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Your life is drawn on your skin.Every culture has a version of this saying. It is hardly a saying at all, more of an obvious fact. If an event or a person is important, significant, even if you don't realise it at first, an image related to them will appear on your skin.
Cultural responses to the marks vary. In Japan, for example, it is considered horrendously rude to show them in public - it is one of the worst social gaffes in existence, and it is far from uncommon for people not to know all of their own family's marks.
When Light is four, and showering with Soichiro, he learns that the noblewoman on Soichiro's chest is Sachiko's mark. The bubbling fountain on his side is Sayu's.
Light's mark is a gibbous moon. It's on Soichiro's shoulder blade, small enough to be covered by Light's own palm.
Light doesn't let himself speculate on what it means, that of their small family his mark is the smallest, tucked somewhere where Soichiro cannot even see it.
If he did, he might wonder why he has no marks at all for his parents.
To know a man, look.The symbology of the marks is personal. To really know what they mean, you must ask the person who has them - and if they answer truthfully, the revealed meaning can open new insights into the person who wears them.
Provided, of course, that you are willing to analyse them honestly.
Around Light's left ankle is a puppy. It shows up when he is six and first has to watch over Sayu. He supposes it is accurate enough - Sayu is as cute and helpless as your average puppy, after all.
On Light's upper arm is a book with the pages ripped apart. It appears when he is seven, and knows that the teacher is wrong, and cannot stop them from teaching the rest of the class lies.
On his hip is a shattering vase, pictured in the moment of impact with some invisible bludgeon. It comes when he's eight, and sees his mother overlook the model he spent hours carefully making for her in class in favour of cooing over the handful of dirty flowers Sayu holds out with a bright smile, that she spent all of three minutes picking.
On his right shin, an overturned cup endlessly spills dark juice. It fades into existence when he is eleven, and finally accepts that he will never find anyone who truly shares his point of view.
When Light is twelve, he wins the Junior Tennis Championship, and a trophy the size of his fingerprint appears on his upper arm. He likes it.
Then his father strongly suggests that he should stop wasting so much time and energy on such useless pursuits. The next time he looks at the trophy, it's tarnished and dented, looking like such a useless piece of rubbish that if it were solid he would throw it away in embarrassment.
When Light turns thirteen he receives his first bodysuit, the skincoloured underwear that is designed to hide all of a person's marks. He smiles and thanks his parents.
The next morning, he wakes up to marks that look exactly like tearstains covering his cheeks.
Light becomes very good at using concealer and foundation.
No marks, no soul.This is a common superstition which persists despite multiple scientific studies proving that it is merely a genetic anomaly.
Light's body is littered with ruin and devastation by the time he is seventeen, and he denies to himself how seriously he considers 'falling' beneath a train. The world around him is rotten, and the proof is hidden on his skin.
The Death Note sends a shock through him, his first murder a larger one. He studies himself obsessively before a mirror, trying to find the new mark - surely something this special would mark him? - and slowly realises that the opposite is occurring: instead of a new mark, the Death Note is preventing any more from appearing.
He likes it all the more for that, for the prevention of those useless cries for attention and help that no one ever noticed or recognised. The only thing that could be better would be if it could erase the ones already there; but that might draw attention, and he is safer seeming as he was when he could still be marked by the world.
(He never guesses why he is no longer marked.
The dead never are.)
The signs know.Several people have been known to question why the marks associated with someone they dislike are so beautiful. The answer generally lies in the effect this person has had on them and their life, regardless of whether that effect was intended. Conversely, one of the more trusted signs of a harmful or abusive relationship is an ugly or threatening mark.
"Light-kun's been crying!" Matsuda protests, and Light cringes at the stupid, stupid marks on his face and the meaning that he doesn't want anyone to guess, especially not insulting, prying, rude detectives who accuse him of mass-murder.
He hears his father's shamed explanation that they aren't real, they're just marks, and he's had them since he was thirteen.
He wishes the ground would swallow him.
(And yet, even in the humiliation and the shame and the embarrassment, he doesn't think longingly of throwing himself beneath a train as he did during his perfect normal life.)
L acts like he doesn't quite believe how long Light has had the tearmarks. Light glares at the cameras and, feeling petty, refuses to talk for six hours.
Days later, he finds himself freed to a different confinement, chained to L by his left wrist.
L pauses when they are getting ready for bed, staring at his back.
"What?" he asks suspiciously.
L looks up at him. "Light-kun has a new mark."
Light pauses. For some reason, he hadn't thought that he would be marked by his father pretending to shoot him.
Though he cannot think why he would ever expect not to be.
"What is it?"
L's eyes drop to Light's shoulderblade - the mark must be in the same place as his father's mark for him, Light realises, with an incredibly inappropriate surge of dark glee - and he looks uncomfortable. "A dead tree. One that seems to have been struck by lightning."
"How large is it?" he asks, then turns to look for a mirror without waiting for an answer, well aware that L cannot answer the question he means.
The ruined stump of a lightning-struck tree, too badly burned even to make out the species, is a near-perfect match in size and position to the mark on Soichiro that corresponds to his son.
Light can't quite stop himself from smiling as he sees it.
He doesn't even care when the smile raises his Kira percentage.
Surprisingly, L allows Light to conceal his tearmarks each day before they leave their room, and to wear clothing that hides his other marks from the rest of the taskforce (and Misa). Light has no such shelter from L's own surveyance, however, and spends a good thirty minutes each day being intensely scrutinised.
"What are you looking for?" he finally demands.
"Light-kun has no marks related to Kira."
Light rolls his eyes and tries to force patience into his voice. "That's because I'm not Kira."
L frowns at him. "Would Light-kun deny that Kira is having a profound effect on his life?"
"So are you, but you haven't left any marks," Light retorts snidely.
(The very next day they both realise that the handcuff on Light's wrist is underlaid with a mark that matches it. Light tries not to feel that his own body is mocking him.
He fails.)
"And besides, do you have any marks from Kira?" Light asks sharply.
L eyes him consideringly, then casually strips off his shirt to reveal his upper body.
Light stares. He's always politely ignored L's marks, refusing to stare for fear of another Kira point being added to his percentage, but now he has permission he has every intention of taking in as much as he can.
All of L's marks are wounds. Above one wrist is a pale scar, as if someone had sliced his arm open at one point. On his left upper arm is a horrifically detailed burn scar. On his lower ribs is a wide purple bruise, just turning yellow at the edges.
And over his heart is a small, deep cut, with a rivulet of dark blood leaking from it.
L meets Light's eyes, unashamed. He points at the marks in order, saying a word for each one. "Ei." The scar above his wrist. "Bi." The burn. "Misora." The bruise.
Light mouths the last one with him. "Kira."
Light can't find anything to say after that, and L replaces his shirt in silence.
"Light-kun should tell me what his marks are for, now," L declares. "Once is once."
It's only fair. It's not even something L is forcing from him with only vague promises of later reciprocation.
"Later," Light mutters.
That night, he finds himself giving L a tour of his body, starting with the oldest mark that lies around his ankle. "Sayu."
L stares, and does not coo over how adorable his feelings for his sister are. "Is she aware you see her as a living shackle?"
Light smiles despite himself. "No one else ever noticed that."
The tour continues until Light reaches the newest of his marks (except the mark around his wrist that they will both find tomorrow) and pauses, unsure of when exactly it developed.
"Light-kun?"
He shrugs carelessly, eyes still on the suzumebachi on his shoulder. "Misa."
L's stare grows more intent. "That does not seem like an indication of a healthy relationship."
"We aren't in a relationship," Light growls in frustration. He cannot remember why this is the symbol for Misa that his subconscious has chosen.
It's ridiculous. It's not as if Misa could ever be a danger to him.
(In the back of his mind, something whispers, 'It's not the first sting that kills you. It's the second.')
As the days go by, Light finds that his left inner forearm is becoming littered with chainlinks. He studies the first one closely, surprised, and then flushes with anger and refuses to let L see it.
Written - carved - into the link are the words, 'I like being able to talk to you.'
A chain slowly grows, looping over itself again and again, and as soon as Light recognises the pattern it is making he starts slathering his arm with as much makeup as he uses on his face.
One long loop, a circular loop, up slightly and then down and up diagonally, a sideways loop and a half-loop beneath it leading to a curve, and then the chain drops down to loop beneath that curve before rising to another circular loop and then a final curve.
Or, as anyone who can read English would realise, the words "love you" written out in a chain which has the reasons in each link. As a final humiliation, after the curve of the 'u' the chain degenerates to a line of dots leading up his elbow, to a much smaller cuff neatly circling a gothic letter 'L'.
Light has no idea why his body has decided to lie.
'You don't make me hide who I am.'
'Your smile is cute.'
'You see past my face.'
'You can keep up with me.'
'I like your physique.'
'I want to help you.'
L loses his patience and yanks Light's arm out so that he can see what Light is hiding.
It's the first time Light ever sees L blush. His face turns such a dark red Light almost thinks he is dying.
'When I surprise you it's a good thing.'
By unspoken mutual agreement, neither of them ever bring up the secret written on Light's arm. Light can tell that L doesn't believe it any more than he does.
That doesn't stop Light's sleeping time from being unbearably awkward for the next few nights.
Things don't really improve when he realises that L's Kira mark has changed - a red camellia is growing out of the wound, its roots holding in the blood.
Red camellias can mean 'in love'. They can also mean 'perishing with grace'.
Light is honestly unsure which interpretation makes him the more uneasy.
In the helicopter, Light doesn't think, just demands "Let me see!" and snatches the Note from Ryuuzaki's loose grip.
He screams as the changes he's experienced over the last five months are erased, then plays the part of the naive fool he was and asks whether L really thinks people could be killed by a Notebook, setting the stage for his offer to check the names in it against Kira's victims - and thereby earn himself the vital seconds unobserved that are all he needs.
L agrees, shocked by the truth that he cannot believe, and Light turns away - but in his triumph he is too careless, and the cuff rides up his wrist, taking his sleeves with it and baring his skin.
His unmarked skin.
L spots the lack of marks before Light and realises what it means, even if it makes no more sense than the monster that has suddenly appeared. He seizes Light's arm, holds it in a grip of steel, and says with terrifyingly emotionless certainty, "Kira."
Light-who-is-Kira is as bewildered by the disappearance of his marks as L, might have appreciated the loss if he had known it would happen, known he would need to hide it, known that -
The Note is torn from his hands. Before two pairs of disbelieving eyes, the chain and cuff return, clearer than ever.
Light stares at L, horrified. "I'm Kira." He is Kira, which means that L has allowed his enemy close enough to learn everything about him, all the weaknesses he doesn't know he has. The next words are almost silent, completely without thought because if he lets himself think Light knows he will never say them. "Kill me."
L's hand tightens on his arm, bruisingly strong. He doesn't answer, and Light tries not to think about how he will die - will L dare spend the time setting up an official execution, or will he simply be shot?
"Light-kun is not to touch the Note, or any other evidence we may acquire."
Light bows his head in acknowledgement.
"Light-kun is not to have further contact with Amane Misa."
Light blinks, unsure why L feels the need to specify that when the remainder of his life will surely be too short -
"Light-kun is not to attempt suicide."
Light looks up, trying to understand what L is saying.
L stares back at him. "I am petty and immature. Now that we have a sure method of telling whether Light-kun is Light-kun or Kira-kun, I have no intention of losing the first and only person who has marked me with something other than a wound."
It is, Light decides afterwards, the worst possible place for a first kiss. At the time it happens, he is too busy mapping the inside of L's mouth with his tongue for rational considerations.
It is not the ring, but the mark.Several people place a special significance upon being 'sign-married', referring to having marks related to your partner. These people tend to be viewing the matter backwards; in most cases, the marks come from having spent a significant part of your lives together, not from being somehow destined to do so. What is a truer sign, and is only known of in six percent of cases, is when the mark is shared - that is, part appears on one person, part on the other. Naturally, there are a great number of modern myths regarding this type of mark.
Light stares at L's right wrist in disbelief. "I don't know how you did it, Ryuuzaki, but you'd better get rid of it before my father sees it." He ignores the way Watari's moustache twitches with amusement.
L smiles at Light, his 'naive and clueless' persona firmly established. "But then how will he know we're married, Light-kun?" Before Light can answer that he shouldn't, that he doesn't want his father to know, L grabs his left hand and tugs it hard enough to pull it out of his sleeve, baring the matching cuff. "Let's go show him!"
Light is convinced that this is a terrible start to a new relationship.
He doesn't notice the teartracks on his cheeks slowly changing, until no one would ever think he'd been crying. He doesn't even realise that he forgot to apply his concealer today, in his rush to hide the evidence of what he'd been doing with L last night.
Soichiro does, though, and that may be why his reaction is closer to approving than Light ever expected - though he can't quite hide his wince at the thought of being publicly associated with Ryuuzaki.
Light notices it.
For the first time, Light is willing to lose his father's distant approval, because for the first time he has something worth giving it up.
Though when L is unbearably smug at being worth it, Light thinks he might need to reconsider.
(He never does.)