Have I mentioned that Light's personality and mindset is a total bitch when it comes to writing? Seriously. Everything, even parts where's he's not even in the damned scene, are modified by how he thinks and what he would want to do. I cannot count how many sections I've had to rewrite or tweak so far because my mind piped in "But, oh! Light would never do that! Kill off that plot bunny before it reproduces!" For example, I had this whole scene typed up where Light/Kira wrote into a news station (like Misa did with Sakura TV) to announce his victory to the world. Then, I realized Light would never do something so outright, risky, and stupid so two whole pages were deleted with the click of a button.

Yeah. In short, keeping Im-A-Gay in character is obnoxious, but I'll attempt to do my best with it all the same…

Every1235: I'd actually never seen that before until you mentioned it. I was kind of making the ending similar to Takada's death in the way of the whole burning warehouse thing… No intentional similarities. It was really interesting to read. Thanks for telling me about it ^^


"Eating sweets makes you fat."

-Misa Amane


"Oh, honey. Are you okay? How have you been? Have you been resting? You better not be going off to school like this. Bed rest and plenty of relaxation is crucial if you want to begin feeling better - "

"Mom - "

"Do you need to see Doctor Freeta? Your sister saw her once after her dog died - Goldie? The pug? Remember her? - Anyway, she was very good. We'll fly you over to the United States to see her if you need it - "

"Mom - "

"Oh, sweet heart. We're coming home right away. You hear me? No, no. Stop trying to convince me otherwise. What to do… What to do…I know! We'll put you in protective custody. You'll have at least three body guards and of course the police will be watching you at all times - "


"What is it, darling?"

I sighed, running a hand through my disheveled hair and adjusting the phone at my ear. I idly crossed and uncrossed my legs underneath the table. This conversation was going on for far longer than I'd thought it would. Sure, the worry was understandable, but this was the third time we'd had this talk in the past twenty-four hours.

My butt was starting to go numb from sitting in the same rickety, old, kitchen chair for so long and my gigantic portion of raspberry-chocolate swirl ice-cream was rapidly decreasing.

Not pleasant.

"I know that you're worried about me, believe me, I was really worried too for a bit… but I'm fine. Really. I don't need body guards or police escorts or God knows what else to protect me against all those rabid Kira supporters. It'll be fine."

"And you've been resting?"

"You bet cha'."


I scooped another spoonful of ice-cream into my mouth.

"Mmhmm." I swallowed. "Thanks for all the comfort food, by the way." The freezer was now packed to the brim with frozen treats and every counter was littered with boxes upon boxes of unhealthy goodness. "You didn't have to have so much of it delivered though…"

"Nonsense. I'm sure Shinju needed some sweets almost as much as you did."

I glared at said obnoxious female who was currently smirking at me from her spot strewn across the couch - mouth stuffed far beyond carrying capacity with two different kinds of cheesecake. A half eaten box of prepackaged brownies sat in her lap and she had a gigantic red velvet cupcake piled high with creamy frosting at the ready for whenever she finally managed to swallow down all of the cake.

"She's such a huge Kira supporter. She must have been absolutely devastated by Miss Takada's death."

"…Trust me mom, 'devastated' or not, the last thing that demon needs is sugar."

She sighed.

"Oh, well. More for you then." Yeah. Not likely. "Either way, back to the subject at hand. Your father and I will be back in Japan as soon as possible, alright? Two, three days tops."

"Mom, you really don't have to - "

"No, no, no. We're your parents, honey. We should be there for you. And we're taking you to the police station."

"Mom - "

"I know, I know. You don't want body guards. Let me at least take you to the police to see if they think that you should have someone watching over you."

"Alright. That's reasonable. Just… no more body guards. Please."

My mom laughed.

"No offense, sweet heart, but that incident was your fault…"

"You never told me we were getting body guards. Seeing a random stranger walking through the house prompted an immediate reaction!" I defended.

"Still, throwing paint thinner in his eyes was a bit much."

"If he had actually been a serial killer, it wouldn't have been a bit much."

There was some shuffling on the other end of the line.

"I have to go now, honey. The airline is calling us back."

"Okay. Talk to you later."

"Love you."

"Love you, too. Bye."

I sighed, pulling the phone away from my ear and pressing the little, red, 'end call' button. My spoon hit the bottom of the now empty ice-cream bowl and I frowned. I needed more sweets! …but the fridge was ever so far away…

"So, was that the same conversation that you've been having for the past three days, or was there anything new tossed in there?" Shinju asked, having finally swallowed the cheesecake. As soon as the words had left her mouth, she began working on devouring her cupcake.

I shrugged.

"The gist of it all was the same."

"Mmhmm," she mumbled through a mouthful of frosting.

A moment passed in silence.

I frowned down at my phone and lazily traced designs on the table with my finger. This whole incident had put a huge sidebar in my life. Because I was on leave from school for my 'fragile mental state,' I had yet to continue my project. Never mind the project, I'd missed three whole days worth of classes so far. And that was just up to this point. Who knew how long my mom would keep me home? The make-up work pile would be monstrous.

That, and…

I sighed, playing with a stray strand of hair that had fallen in front of my eyes.

I may have been acting like I was fine, but even I couldn't lie to myself. Sure, I'd had a few nightmares about seeing the two motorcycle riders crash into the brick wall. Sure, I'd thrown up a few times. And, sure, I was a bit paranoid that some obsessive Kira maniac might hunt me down in my sleep. But the absolute worst part was the endless guilt - the feeling of 'I could have done something' even when you know that there was no possible way you could have. It's awful to feel like you didn't do enough to help someone. That guilt was what was bothering me.

Maybe I did need to see Doctor Freeta after all.

"Hey, fat head. Cart your rear-end over to the couch. We're going to watch a good, old American tear jerker. Titanic sound good? Subs on, of course. My English still sucks."

I laughed.

"Got enough food over there?"

Shinju looked around with a careful eye… it almost looked like an animal observing her habitat.

"Maybe not enough for two hours…"

"I'll grab some spoons and a couple of containers of ice-cream from the freezer."

"You do that. Make one of them mint, 'kay?"

Minutes later, I was curled up on the couch with a quart of cotton candy flavored ice cream in my hands and heavy, fuzzy, blanket resting over my shoulders. The movie was playing on the television and Shinju was already making wise cracks about the production and cast of characters. She made some half-assed joke about Cal's feminine eyebrows and laughter bubbled past my lips.

Maybe I didn't need therapy, I thought absentmindedly, digging into the pink and blue hued ice-cream with the dull edge of my spoon.

Maybe I just needed my oddball friend to be there to cheer me up.


"Holy mother of - "

I looked up from my fridge-raid, eyebrows arched in a silent question.

"What is it?"

Shinju didn't respond, just continued to stare open-mouthed at the television screen. I rolled my eyes and closed the refrigerator door, bottle of lemonade in hand. I trekked back over to the couch and plopped back down in my previously claimed spot.

"Hello? Anyone home? Shinju?"

"SHH!" she snapped. I blinked owlishly.

"What is it?"

"I said shush! Just look at the TV!"

I sighed and turned to stare at the glowing screen. Shinju cranked the volume and sat leering at the program playing out in front of her, utterly transfixed. After a moment or two of seemingly unrelated clips playing against background music and a flurry of commercials ranging from sleep aids to bananas, the reporter reappeared.

"Welcome back. As mentioned before our commercial break, the station has received some fresh news involving the Kira case that may enrage quite a few anti-Kira activists."

Shinju squealed and clutched her own blanket tightly beneath her chin. I rolled my eyes and took a swig of my lemonade.

"You dragged me away from the fridge for this?"

"Shut your face. I can't hear what the lady's saying," she complained, continuing to raise the volume.

The posh looking woman on the television screen shuffled the papers in her manicured hands and cleared her throat before beginning to read.

"Earlier today, it was confirmed officially that the Japanese Task Force originally assembled as an attempt to track down and incarcerate Kira in 2003 has been disbanded indefinitely."

Shinju shot out of her seat as she cheered, hopping excitedly around the room. My brow furrowed at the news. I'd just talked with them, the task force… I'd only talked with them three days ago. What the Hell had happened? I leaned forward to get a better look at the screen, resting my elbows on my knees.

"According to our sources, most of the force was killed when an explosion set an empty warehouse known as the 'Yellow box' on fire. Unfortunately, the officers situated in the area did not make it out of the building before its foundation caught flame and collapsed."

My eyes narrowed. Something about that explanation sounded… off. An abandoned warehouse just exploding? Not likely. Something, or someone, would have had to set it off.

"A large portion of the members of Japan's police force suspect Kira activists were the ones to set off the explosion."

Well, that answered that question.

"Many believe that it was some sort of twisted response to the death of Lady Takada - Kira's late and much beloved spokesperson."

I gulped, feeling that familiar ice-ball of guilt form in my stomach. Shinju smirked.

"Nice going."

I sneered back at her, eyes narrowed venomously.

"Shut up."

"After this horrible occurrence," the reporter continued, "the few remaining members willingly resigned from the case at the request of the current head of the NPA in order to ensure their safety."

I hoped Matsuda was still alive. He'd been friendly enough. It may have seemed a bit heartless for me to say so, but if someone had to have died, I secretly hoped that Yagami, Light was the one. The world was better off without jerks like him. All the others had seemed like fairly decent people.

"The Chief of Police made this statement involving the matter during a press conference."

The image on the screen transitioned into a slightly grainy looking video taken in a small, whitewashed room filled with men in suits and metal fold up chairs. The shot focused on a middle-aged man with a receding hairline and large beads of sweat resting atop his upper lip.

"Since 2003, my men and women have been hunting down Kira to no avail. This was not the same as pursuing a regular criminal." He readjusted his orange and yellow striped tie. "I have lost a number of my finest officers in those seven years and refuse to lose anymore to this case. If L couldn't solve it, I don't know a soul in the world who can." Again, he fiddled with his tie. "To spare the innocent lives of my police officers and the grief of their family members, I am officially pulling Japan's police force out of the Kira case."

I sat back against the couch as the image of the sweaty man faded back to the elegantly made-up reporter.

"This is great!"


She sighed.

"I knew you wouldn't be enthusiastic."

I frowned and answered with a halfhearted grunt. Shinju frowned and plopped back down on the couch.

"You've got that 'thinky' look about you. What is it?"

I sighed.

"It's…strange. I just talked to the task force three days ago after the whole motorcycle incident. I can't believe that in barely seventy-two hours, they no longer exist. The Kira case is done and over with. Officially."

"Are you upset that Kira wasn't caught?" she asked.

I shrugged halfheartedly, averting my gaze to glance out the window.

"I never cared either way."

Shinju rolled her eyes. She retained her serious composure for all of five more seconds before her face cracked in a gigantic grin. With another squeal, she collapsed back against the couch in a fit of ecstatic giggles.

"I still can't believe it! We won. We actually won! Not that I ever doubted Kira to begin with… but we still did it!" she cheered, throwing her hands up into the air. "Do we have any champagne?"

"Why would we have champagne?" I frowned. I despised the smell of any alcoholic product alone, let alone the acrid taste, and Shinju was far too lazy to shop around for anything other than junk food.

"Incase we needed to celebrate!" she shot back, hopping over the back of the couch and skipping to the kitchenette. She yanked open the refrigerator door and stuck her nose in, snooping around inside.

"Celebrate what?"

"A marvelous occasion such as this!" she beamed. Shinju began opening cabinets and drawers and closets before finally sighing and settling on an unopened bottle of melon flavored soda. She pulled two mismatching glasses from a cabinet and headed back over to the couch.

The brunette placed the cups on our small coffee table with a 'thud' and filled them to the brim with fruity, green colored, soda. She slid one in my direction, lifting the other high in the air.

"To Kira!" she toasted, tapping the edge of her glass against my own.

I cradled the cup in my hands, staring into the fizzy, green liquid. Slowly, I raised the rim to my lips.

You're drinking to a murderer.

I paused.

Kira killed those men. They were innocent. He killed them because they got in his way. Who else has he killed that you don't know about? Not just criminals, I assure you. Murderer. Murderer. Murderer.

Shinju guzzled her own drink and reached for the bottle to pour herself another round. I knew what she would say if I voiced my thoughts: Who cares? That was right. Who did care? Kira had distorted everyone's judgment when it came to 'good' and 'bad.' A handful of people, hardworking, everyday, men who had families and friends and lives, were killed off as easily as if I'd snapped my fingers… and people were celebrating.

Sacrifices are necessary to win any war.

There was a moment of silence in my mind while the other part of my brain digested what my subconscious had blurted. My face twisted in self disgust at my train of thought and I stood from my seat, heading over to the kitchen.

"Huh? Masami? Where are you going?"

"I'm not thirsty."

I walked over to stand by the sink, knuckles snowy white from my death grip on the cup. I tipped the glass upside down, emptying its contents into the shining basin. The emerald liquid pooled at the bottom for a moment before swirling downwards and into the drain.


Light took a drawn out sip from his mug of tea, allowing himself a moment to savor the minty yet sweet taste. He leaned back into the comfortable material of his couch with a content smirk on his lips.

The female reporter who had described Kira's victory to the world had long since disappeared from the glowing television screen. Her image had been replaced by clips and live feeds sent in by roaming reporters who were questioning people on the streets. The responses of the interviewed were exactly as he'd predicted.

There were those who were over exuberant to the point of being ridiculous - much like Misa. Many of those clips were cut short. Then, there was the typical response of the average citizen. They seemed pleased and were more than willing to accept Kira. Then, of course, there were the people who disagreed with Kira's principals; however, knowing that Kira had won, they were now reserved - either choosing to not be interviewed or subtly claiming that they were shocked by the outcome.

Light took another sip from the steaming beverage. He retrieved the remote and flicked to the next channel. Another news anchor was repeating the tale of the Task Force's downfall. He smirked.

The genius had done a splendid job of fabricating a believable and verifiable lie about the event that occurred the day earlier. He'd had an alibi - thanks to Misa, the infatuated ditz - and no evidence could ever be found to incriminate him. Nothing. Except the book in his lap.

Light opened the death note and idly glanced through the long lists of names. Pages upon pages of carefully planned executions filled the book spanning from when he'd first picked up the notebook almost seven years ago to not three hours ago. It was like an autobiography of Kira.

"Still looking through the death note? Feeling nostalgic?"

Light didn't bother to greet the Shinigami.

"What do you need, Ryuk?"

"Can't I just stop in to say hello?" the death god cackled. "But if you really want to know, you're out of apples again."

Light's golden-brown eyes continued to rove over the pages.

"Tell Misa."

"But she's been acting whacky all day since her memories of the notebook were restored," Ryuk whined. "What if she buys the wrong kind again? Or worse, what if she doesn't even buy apples?"

Light sighed, running a hand through his mused hair.

"Go with her then."

"I told you. She's been acting funny. I don't want anything to do with her."

Light's brow furrowed a bit.

"Funny how?" The last thing he needed at the moment was for the blonde model to have a breakdown. One, he still needed her for a new Shinigami Eye Deal, and two, if she ran out on the street screeching about being the second Kira (even if Kira had won), there would be trouble.

"It's like she's thinking really hard about something… which is really weird."

Light rolled his eyes. After another moment of flipping through the death note, he closed the book with a 'snap.' He glanced halfheartedly back into the kitchen.


"Yes, Light-kun?" she beamed, popping her blonde head out of the doorway.

"How are you feeling?"

"Oh, I'm fine! I'm fine! Thank you for asking, sweetie~" she giggled. Light stared silently at her for a moment before the model let out a heavy sigh and leaned somewhat dramatically against the doorframe, hand placed over her heart. "I'm just worried that if I make the eye deal again, then I won't be around for all of our children and their children! I want a family with a little girl and a set of twins, both boys that look just like you but have my eyes of course, and I - "

Light went back to flipping through his death note. If all Misa was worrying about was future issues involving a family, he didn't care. As long as she remained loyal and had a set of working eyes, she was useful. That's all that mattered. She was a tool. That was all she would ever be.

He flicked to the next page.

Besides. She wouldn't be around long enough to worry about constructing the 'perfect little family.'

"Oh! I forgot to tell you!" Misa chirped, plopping down on the couch next to him and snuggling obnoxiously into his side. "A man from the Japanese Police Force called to tell you about your new job on the force. You start tomorrow!"

Light's eyes flickered.

"I see."

It had been easy enough to secure a position in the Japanese Police. His father's reputation had been more than enough of a foundation to start upon. For now, he had a simple 'desk' job with little actual

"I was hoping you would start a bit later," the blonde lamented with a heavy sigh. "I wanted to spend some more time with you~"

"Work is work."

"AH! Right! I forgot to tell you! Do you think I could come of my little 'retirement.' Gosh, I hate saying retirement. It makes me feel so old! All those grey hairs and wrinkles…" she shuddered. "Anyways," she continued, face alight, "I was offered a role in this new movie and the money is really good and there's all these perks that come with it -"

"Do what you want."

"Aww~ I knew you'd be supportive!" she giggled.

Ryuk stared apprehensively at the blonde model, silently debating whether he could deem her sane enough to head to a store, purchase apples, and safely transport them home. After a moment of silence, he seemed to decide that eating the apples would be more than worth jeopardizing the fruits' safety.

"Hey, Misa. Can we go buy some apples?"

"But we have some in the kitchen!"

"But those are green apples."


"They're not red."

Misa sighed dramatically, falling back against the couch pillows.

"Fine, fine. Light-kun, do you need anything at the store?"

The genius didn't bother to glance up, simply continuing to browse through the pages of his death note. Misa let out yet another heavy sigh, pulling herself off the couch with a series of languid stretches.

"You and that book…"

Ryuk cackled, following her to the doorway and waiting as she slipped on a pair of chunky black heels and grabbed her equally bulky and dark purse.

"He may need a few extra pens. I bet he's gonna' go through a Hell of a lot of names."

Light smirked as the door closed behind them, fishing for the ballpoint pen in his pocket. He reached for the television remote and the TV hummed to life. He skimmed a few channels before landing on a standard news station. His eyes watched carefully as names and pictures scrolled across the glowing screen before placing the tip of the writing utensil against the lined paper and beginning to scratch away.


Sorry for the long-ish wait. I think I explained my current laptop/typing situation on my other Fanfiction and I don't really feel like retyping it (or just copying and pasting it, but whatever…)

Until next time~