Gods of Death Can Bleed

by Unknown_qhost

Summary:

"The thing no one tells you about playing god is how quickly it stops feeling holy."

Aria Mordain and Dove Rosewood should have left Light Yagami’s room with a dare and a story. Instead, they walked out with a secret that rewrote the course of their lives- and death itself.
What begins with good intentions unravels into a descent through guilt, power, fear, and betrayal.
Some names you write down because you have to.
Some names you write down because you want to.
And some names-
You never meant to write at all.

Notes:

Hi everyone! This story follows a canon-aligned Death Note timeline through the perspective of two original characters, Aria Mordain and Dove Rosewood. It’s a dark, psychological slow-burn about guilt, power, loyalty, and the cost of survival.
I love these two and this is gonna end up being a two-book series similar to how I did Flowers and Withered.
Thank you so much for giving this story a chance! Comments, kudos, and bookmarks mean more than you know! 🖤

Chapter 1: Truth or Dare

The crackle of a chip bag tore through the hum of the TV, somehow managing to stand out over the canned laughter blaring from the speakers. I was sprawled across the couch like I’d melted into it, one arm hanging off the side, the other shielding my eyes from the flickering screen. A sigh slipped out before I could stop it, loud and dramatic.

It was weirdly hot for November. The kind of heat that sticks to your skin and makes everything feel wrong, like the air forgot what month it was. I glanced sideways, drawn to the sound again. Sayu was beside me, snorting through a mouthful of chips, laughing at whatever dumb sitcom we’d left on.

I didn’t get what was so funny. But she was smiling. Dove lay sprawled out on her stomach in front of us, her legs swinging like a kid. If they were happy, I didn’t need a reason to ruin it. I just leaned back, eyes half-lidded, pretending to care.

“ARIA!”

Lost in thought, I hadn’t realized Dove was calling my name- until a pillow was thrown to my face. 

I snapped my head around. “Jeez, what?!”

Dove rolled her eyes, but had a smirk tugging at the corner of her mouth, “All of our parents left. We have the house to ourselves.”

Finally snapping away from the TV, Sayu practically jumped off the couch, her excitement on display like it owed her something. She scrambled upright, tossing the now-empty chip bag aside like it was suddenly in her way.

I watched her for a beat, then snorted under my breath.

“Is Light not home?” I asked, lifting a brow. “You know if we do anything loud, he’ll rat us out to your parents in a heartbeat.”

“Oh wouldn’t you like to know?” Sayu teased, pitching her voice in a sing-song way.

My cheeks burned. “Dude, no, it’s not-”

“Oh my god, don’t ‘dude’ me. You know it’s true. It's been true since like, middle school.” Sayu snickered, grinning like the little devil you’d see on the side of your shoulder.

“Middle school was like... five minutes ago for you, you little fetus!” I cried back, pelting a pillow in her direction.

Dove cackled from the floor. “She’s in total denial. It’s so funny watching her squirm.”

“You’re telling me if he walked in right now,” Sayu went on, ignoring the pillow assault, “you wouldn’t do that thing you do- where you get all talkative and excited and your voice gets weirdly high?”

“I bet I won’t!” I countered, face flushing.

But then, like flipping a switch, the mood shifted. Sayu’s teasing grin grew sharper, eyes glinting with something mischievous.

“You bet , huh?” she said slowly, dragging out every word like my trap was already premeditated.

I felt my heart drop. I knew that look. I braced myself for what was coming.

“Truth or dare?”

I groaned, smothering my head into the safety of the couch cushions like they’d protect me. This was Sayu’s all-time favourite game, and she brought it up whenever it was convenient for her to squeeze us for information. She had this twisted talent for knowing exactly when to strike, always when you’d least expect it. I snuck a desperate glance over to Dove, a silent cry for help. She met it with a smug little smile, her eyes already dancing with mischief. No escape.

 Dove was fully aware of my feelings for Light. I’d confided in her about Light more than once- reluctantly, stupidly, and now I was going to be dragged, cornered, and picked apart like it was their best story to tell. I could already see it, Sayu at the dinner table, mouth full of rice, casually announcing to Mrs. Yagami that her daughter’s childhood friend is totally, tragically, pathetically in love with her son. Kill me.

I sighed, heart thudding in my chest as I peeled my face away from the couch.

“…Truth,” I muttered.

Sayu’s eyes glinted with something I couldn’t read. She dramatically tapped a finger to her chin, prolonging my inevitable humiliation. She hummed, then leaned in with a sudden spark. “If you had to kiss one teacher to pass this year, who would it be?”

“EW!” Dove mock-gagged. “Sayu that’s nasty. Why is that the first thing on your mind?”

I was just relieved it wasn’t about Light.

“It’s not! It’s not!” Sayu defended herself adamantly, snickering into her hand. “I just know Aria, and if she likes my brother then she’s definitely into those scholarly types.”

Nevermind.

I curled my lip in disgust. “I’d rather fail. If we had any hot teachers that would be another thing, but everyone at our school is like- fifty.”

“Oh my goddd. She’d fail math over kissing someone with a receding hairline!” Sayu clutched her stomach and almost keeled off the couch.

“Aria’s standards are so high,” Dove added, grinning. “She’s gonna die single or in Light’s scholarly arms.”

“Better than kissing Mr. Higa’s BO breath,” I scoffed into the pillow.

Sayu shrieked. “EW YOU NOTICED THAT TOO?!”

I stood up, shoving my cushion to the side as I stepped close to Sayu’s curled over form. “Alright you little menace… Dare.”

“Oh okay, you’re bold now.” Sayu cackled. “Okay, okay. I dare you to-”

“Nope.” I cut her off, smirking. “I’m gonna dare you now.”

Sayu’s smile immediately faded into a pout. “Hey, that’s not how it works!” 

“Too late. You laughed at me, now it’s your turn to suffer.”

Dove gasped with mock horror. “Retribution.”

Sayu narrowed her eyes, but her smirk was already creeping back. “Fine. Hit me.”

I leaned forward, grinning with full evil older-sister energy. “I dare you to prank call that guy from your class. You know….Takeshi.”

Sayu’s jaw dropped. “NO.”

Dove perked up. “Wait, the one who’s obsessed with soccer and has a mullet?”

“YES!” I shouted, launching at her with the energy of a thousand vengeful gremlins. I tickled her mercilessly, sending her into a fit of shrieks and breathless laughter as she twisted and turned, trying to shield her pockets from me.

“No- no! ARIA!” she screamed through giggles, writhing across the couch.

But I was on a mission.

With a victorious grin, I spotted the prize: her flip phone. I snatched it and bolted across the room, holding it high above my head like a trophy as she scrambled after me.

“GIVE IT BACK!” she screeched between laughs, chasing me down while I fumbled to find the contact. “ARIA, I swear- don’t you dare! ”

It rang. The room went dead silent.

“ Uh- Hello? ” The deep voice crackled through the speakers, and Sayu’s face went white.

I dropped my voice to a terrifying sports announcer tone. “Hi there. This is the official Japan Under-17 National Soccer Team!”

“ …What? ”

“We’ve been reviewing your footage, Takeshi,” I said solemnly. “And unfortunately… you suck.”

“ ...That doesn’t exist- ”

“You heard me. Pelting a child across the field isn’t a soccer ball, dude. You need your eyes checked.”

Sayu screamed. Dove was face-down on the floor wheezing.

I kept going. “Your red card’s in the mail. You’re also fined 300 yen per ‘good boy’ back slap. Yeah, we counted.”

The boy on the other end went quiet, then: “ …Sayu? ”

I hung up and launched the phone into the cushions.

Sayu stood frozen in the middle of the room like her soul had left her body.“He’s going to tell EVERYONE. I will never live this down.” She rummaged for her phone, while Dove almost died of laughter in the background. “I’m going to kill you. I’m going to strangle you with my bare hands.”

I wiped tears from my eyes. “I did it for the greater good.”

“You are the worst person I know.”

“And yet,” I grinned, curling back onto the couch like nothing happened, “I’m the funniest.”

Sayu dramatically collapsed beside me, phone clutched to her chest like I’d mortally wounded her social life. “I hope you know I’ll never recover from this.”

Dove wheezed through her last giggle, eyes glassy. “That was foul. Straight to hell, Aria.”

“Alright guys, enough emotional torture for me,” Sayu recovered from her ego’s injury quickly, changing her sights just as fast. Her focus slid to dove, like her next target was already chosen for her. “It’s your turn. Truth or Dare?”

Dove sat upright. “Ohh, I’m not an idiot like you were. Truth.”

Sayu and I exchanged a look. Dangerous.

Sayu leaned in, hands perched on her knees for extra support. “If you could beat up anyone - full on punch to the face- who would it be? No repercussions.” 

Dove’s smile faltered, just for a second. Her eyes dropped to the floor, hands playing with the hem of her skirt. “Hina Aoki.”

The answer was swift, like the name had been tugging at the end of her brain for quite some time. Despite what appeared to me as a drastic change in body language, Sayu didn’t seem to pick up on it.

“Whaaat? But she’s so nice! She always says she loves my outfits, and-”

“She's nice to you .” Dove snapped a little, eyes jumping to meet with Sayu’s. A slight tension rose in the air. “ Everyone’s nice to you.”

Dove and I shared a glance. I already knew where this was going.

“She used to follow me into the locker room,” Dove continued. “Once dumped my entire bag out and laughed when all my stuff hit the floor. Made me clean it up and called me a freak. Called Aria worse.”

My stomach turned. I remembered that day, how Dove’s stuff was everywhere, how she laughed it off like it was no big deal. I had tried to say something then, tried telling off Hina to no result. All that earned me was a swift shove into the lockers. That’s what I got for never knowing when to shut up.

Sayu’s mouth parted in shock. “I didn’t know-”

“It’s okay, it’s fine, really.” Dove said quickly, waving it off with a practiced smile. “They’re all like that, it’s not your fault. She’s got this thing where she acts all sweet around people she wants to impress. Especially guys. Makes it look like we’re just being dramatic when we say something.”

“She made it her part-time job to mess with us,” I added, kicking my feet up on the coffee table. “We just got good at pretending it didn’t matter. ’Cause it doesn’t. She’s ugly anyway.”

Sayu looked down, her expression suddenly more serious. “I’m really sorry. I didn’t know she did all that.”

“I know,” Dove said with a small shrug. “That’s how she gets away with it.”

There was a pause. One of those rare, real ones.

Sayu cleared her throat, trying to shake it off. “Okay... that got heavy.”

Dove gave a sheepish grin. “Hey, you asked. Truth or dare’s a dangerous game.”

“Alright,” Dove continued, sitting up on her knees with an evil expression on her face. “Since we all got tortured, I think it’s time for another dare.”

“No.” I narrowed my eyes. “You are too chill right now. That means it’s gonna be awful.”

“Oh, it is,” she replied sweetly, almost sickingly so- like I didn’t know what kind of stuff she was capable of coming up with. “We’re on an even playing field now. Truth or dare?”

I moaned, flopping backward on the couch. “I hate this game.”

“Truth or dare?” Dove repeated, already too conceited.

Sayu perked up again, the fire reigniting in her soul. “Do it. You have to.”

“Ugh… Fine.” I dragged myself upright, perching my elbows on my knees. “Hit me.”

Dove’s smile spread slowly, the fake innocence falling away like a dropped mask. Her gaze flicked toward the hallway- brief but enough. I could practically see the idea blooming behind her eyes like a poisonous flower. She zoned back in on me, like a predator ready to launch at its prey. “Go to his room and grab something for yourself. A little gift”

I knew who she was referencing. My stomach plummeted. Sayu’s mouth gaped open. “Light’s gonna die if anyone messes with his stuff. Oh my god, Dove. It’s kinda perfect.”

“No it's not!” I screeched. “No, no, absolutely not. Are you insane?!”

“Yes. Don’t be a wimp. Do it.” Dove egged me on. “He’s your little crush. You should be thrilled .”

The two of them started chanting, soft at first, then louder and louder, their voices overlapping in that chaotic energy that made resistance pointless. They pounded fists into the cushions like a war drum. “Do it! Do it!”

My hands flew up in surrender. “Okay, okay! I’ll go!” I hissed through clenched teeth, already regretting every decision that had led me to this moment. “Just know you two suck so hard.”

Sayu and Dove burst into victorious laughter, waving me off like I was a gladiator heading into an arena.

“Yeah, yeah. You better not wimp out!” Dove chimed, practically vibrating from the floor with excitement.

I turned my back to them with an overly dramatic sigh, dragging my feet toward the stairs. I gave them one last theatrical eye-roll and slipped into the hallway, their laughter fading behind me.

The second I was out of sight, everything got… weirdly quiet.

Not spooky. Just quieter.

The kind of silence that reminds you someone might overhear you, or worse, catch you. My footsteps felt harsher than they should’ve as I moved through the house I practically grew up in, but suddenly felt like I was trespassing.

At the top of the stairs, I hesitated. My hand hovered at the railing, suddenly unsure. Why was I even nervous? It wasn’t like I’d never seen his room before. But there was something different about going in uninvited. Something more intimate about crossing that threshold alone, like it might mean something even if it didn’t.

At the end of the stairway, his door stood closed. Not ominous. Just… Light’s . Clean, normal, perfectly aligned with the wall like everything else he touched. Of course it was closed. Of course it didn’t squeak.

I stared at it for a second, stomach buzzing, nerves tightening like someone had knocked on the inside of my ribcage.

It was just a door.

Just a room.

But it was his.

And I was about to walk in.

Chapter 2: Hina Aoki

Summary:

It was supposed to be a joke.
A dare, a scribble, a name, nothing more.
But something about that notebook wouldn't let Aria forget.
And something about Light Yagami's silence felt too heavy to ignore.

I wrapped my hand around the brass doorknob, chewing my bottom lip as the door squeaked open, daring me to step inside. I was met with exactly what I expected, and what I’d seen plenty of times before. A room polished to perfection, appearing almost as if it was ripped straight out of a catalogue. It was neat, polished, and organized to a fault- not in a bad way, just... obvious, given the kind of guy Light was. If you happened to lose something in that room, you would have next to no trouble finding it.

I stepped across the glossy wooden floor, eyes scanning across the array of books neatly placed in his tall bookshelf. Of course they were all lined up by subject. Of course, a solid ninety percent were school-related, and all his pencils were sharpened to the same meticulous length. My gaze glanced at the desk and to no surprise, his desk was spotless and his laptop sat dead center, perfectly closed like it hadn’t been touched all day. It was just so… Light.

There was something oddly comforting about how particular he was with his space. It was predictable, safe. The more I thought about it, the more I wondered why I had been so in my head about it a moment earlier. Even his bed was hospital made, not a wrinkle in sight as the evening rays of light cracked through his window. I caught myself smiling, obviously his room would be like this. It was just so him. Intimidating, sure. But also kind of beautiful in a way I couldn’t explain.

My sights wandered, drifting from the laptop on his desk to the stack of papers tidily placed in the right corner. I didn’t mean to snoop. Not really, but a black leather bound book spine caught my attention against the white sheets. It was placed there not haphazardly, but slightly hidden. Tucked just out of sight, barely- but enough to catch my eye.

I shuffled through, pulling the book out and staring at it. I had assumed it to be a diary, but when the silver letters on the cover became visible- my thoughts shifted.

Death Note

I snickered to myself, shaking my head with an amused smirk as I flipped it open. I examined through the pages, expecting some edgy poetry about how hard it is being literally perfect at everything. As I inspected the first page, I found myself becoming increasingly more and more bewildered. 

“The human whose name is written in this notebook shall die.”

I snorted. Real original, Light. Where did you get this from, Hot Topic?

But then I flipped past the pages of so-called ‘rules’ and got to the ruled lines beneath his handwriting. Names. Hundreds of them if I had to guess. None of which I recognized. Times of death, ways to die, everything was in there, all laid out in that damn near perfect lettering of his.

Quietly unsettled, my lip curled. It was probably a joke- or a weird teenage way for him to vent out his anger. He was smart, maybe it was like a mental reset for him. Maybe it worked? Helped his mental state stay focused? I mean, he was the golden boy. Everyone needed some kind of outlet, right?

Maybe he’s just dramatic. I sighed. Who would’ve thought.

Then I reached a name I recognized. Yesterday’s date. Time of death. Heart attack. A name I’d seen blasted all over the news.

I shut the book a little too fast. Stared at it. Then placed it back exactly where I found it. Under the papers. Spine aligned. No trace.

I turned to walk toward his closet, dare complete, weird day behind me- but something in me froze. My hand hovered near the closet door. My heart beat in my ears. A little voice whispered in the back of my head, like a pull for me to go back.

This is stupid. I thought as I turned to look over my shoulder. 

Before I knew it I was back at that damn desk, perfect pencil in my hands and black book opened to a random page. I paused, mind swimming as I stared blankly into the empty pages, their guided lines waiting for me. Like something invisible had its fingers curled around my wrist, guiding me forward.

I froze, the pencil hovering just above the page, so close it could’ve kissed the paper. My hand stayed there, suspended in hesitation, and all I could do was stare. What the hell was I even doing? If he ever looked through this again- and I was sure he would- he’d notice a new name in an instant. He’d figure something was off. He could blame Sayu, and Sayu would know it wasn’t her, and of course, she'd throw me under the bus without blinking.

There wasn’t any point to it. This wasn’t real. It couldn’t be. I was writing in some edgy teenage vent journal, not summoning death itself.

…But there was something sort of symbolic about it. Something oddly compelling about writing your sworn enemy’s name and wishing death upon them.

I had thought about it in the past, thought about throwing my fist in her face and watching her crumple. All the times that not just Hina- but everyone that liked to pick on Dove and I would laugh in our faces, whisper behind our backs and ruin our chances at making friends. We had horrible reputations, lies spread that we had no idea the source. It was satisfying, sure, but was it worth it?

I blinked.

Let’s see if this actually does anything… or if you’re just some emo freak. I reflected, eyes narrowed as I scribbled down the first name of many that came to mind. 

Hina Aoki.

I didn’t bother adding a time or cause of death. Most of the entries I’d seen were just names- clean and unembellished, like he didn’t need the extra steps. I copied the way he did it, down to the sharp slant of his letters and the spacing between each one. His handwriting was neat, almost mechanical, like it belonged to a machine rather than a person. I tried to match it as best I could, keeping my strokes precise, my pressure light. Just enough to make it look like it had always been there- just another name in a sea of them.

This is just a joke. There’s nothing deeper to it. I justified it to myself, shaking my head as I slid the pencil back into its metal home. I snapped the notebook shut and slipped it back into its perfect little hiding spot, like I hadn’t just forged my name onto someone else’s hit list. The whole thing was ridiculous. A creepy LARP book for Light to feel edgy about. I rolled my eyes at myself.

Relax. It’s not like you summoned a demon.

But for some reason… my fingers hovered over the blank pile of papers, like maybe I should leave it out. Maybe let someone smarter stumble across it and roll their eyes with me. Maybe they’d get a laugh out of it. Maybe they’d explain why I still felt like I’d done something wrong.

I scoffed under my breath, brushing my hands against my jeans.

Like that would ever happen. There wasn’t a person on earth that was smarter than Light, and if there was I sure as hell didn’t know them. That boy was like a teenage prodigy.

Still, I didn’t look back. I just told myself again-

It’s just a notebook.

And walked away like I actually believed that.

 I stepped over to his closet without a second thought, swinging open the wooden doors and snatching the first T-shirt I could find. I had obtained my dare proof, enough to satisfy the girls downstairs, surely. 

And just like that, just as I thought I was in the clear, the sharp click of the front door snapping shut jolted me upright. My breath caught in my throat as the sound echoed faintly through the quiet house, dragging my attention back to reality like a slap.

I second guessed myself for a moment, wondering if my paranoid mind was simply imagining it. I made myself stand deathly still, my heart pounding in my ears as I tried to listen to any sudden noises. Suddenly, the weight of my feet against the floorboards was all I cared about, praying I didn’t step on the wrong side and send a contrasting amount of noise straight downstairs. Maybe it was Sayu? Maybe her parents coming home? My breathing lowered, and I kept myself deathly still, hoping that was all it was- or that I was just imagining things.

Then- there was the faint jingle of keys being tossed into a bowl. A low, monotone voice announcing his arrival.

I bolted. Gripping the stolen shirt in one hand, I slipped out of his room and pulled the door shut behind me with a quiet click. My feet stumbled on the first step and I almost ate it- but I caught myself on the railing and kept going, heart thundering in my chest. I practically flew down the stairs, lungs burning, legs shaking, just barely managing to fling myself onto the couch beside my snickering friends.

I landed in a tangle of limbs and fabric, trying to act cool, even though my pulse was still sprinting.

Dove giggled, pointing an accusing finger at me. “This is what happens when you skip gym, Aria.”

And then, of course, he walked in.

Light’s tall, composed silhouette appeared in the doorway, eyes flicking across the room with that unreadable calm of his. I froze. Just for a second.

Then his gaze landed on me- and then dropped to the shirt in my lap.

Shit .

I scrambled, awkwardly trying to shove it behind my back like it hadn’t just been in full view. Smooth. Real smooth.

“You guys are loud. I could hear you from outside.” He spoke, his voice casual with a hint of disapproval laced underneath. I could feel my nerves vibrating my body.

“Whatever, we’re having fun,” Sayu scoffed, glaring at her older brother. “ You wouldn’t know anything about that. You have like- no social life.”

“Says who?” He hummed, like the comment didn’t even bother him in the slightest. “I just don’t waste my time on meaningless noise.”

I watched with bated breath as his gaze flashed over to the TV, the same stupid comedy playing in the backdrop. His frown rang unimpressed. “But I’m glad you guys are enjoying yourselves.”

Sayu simply groaned in annoyance, rolling her eyes. “Ugh, could you be any more uptight?”

Dove reached over Sayu’s lap, grabbing a potato chip and popping it into her mouth. “He’s just mad he wasn’t invited.”

The crunching sound rang in my ears, but I was so hyper-focused on Light’s movements that it barely bothered me. He didn’t respond to her comment, rather, he just glanced at the room again- me included- and turned back toward the hallway like he hadn’t seen a thing. I couldn’t tell if that was better or worse.

Once the soft click of his bedroom door echoed through the living room, I finally let out the breath I didn’t realize I’d been holding. My lungs ached. I shifted slightly on the couch, trying to play it cool- like my face wasn’t burning and my heart wasn’t trying to claw its way up my throat. My fingers brushed against the fabric behind me, Light’s T-shirt, still hidden, still warm from my grip.

Did he see it?

I replayed the moment in my head, over and over, scanning his expression for any sign. Nothing. He just looked like he always did- sharp but unreadable. If he’d seen it, he would’ve said something… wouldn’t he?

I swallowed hard, forcing myself to believe it.

He didn’t see. He couldn’t have.

Right?

Sayu picked the remote back up, flipping the channel with a smirk. “He’s so annoying. Bet he was eavesdropping the whole time.”

“No way,” Dove snorted, half-laughing. “If he actually heard us, he’d have already stormed down here mid-lecture. You know, all ‘If you disrupt my study environment with your immature antics, it compromises my academic focus’- like he’s writing an essay just to tell us to shut up.”

I forced a laugh to join them, but my mind was somewhere else entirely. My fingers brushed over the edge of the shirt behind me again, the texture grounding me in this moment- but my brain was still in that room.

That name.
That book.
That feeling.

The girls kept talking about snacks, about Takeshi, about whether Sayu’s parents would notice if they raided the snack cabinet or not- but I couldn’t hear them anymore.

My eyes were still on the hallway. On the place Light had vanished into. On the door I’d just come from. Like if I stared long enough, I’d undo what I did. I couldn’t look away if I tried.

It wasn’t real. It couldn’t be real.

And yet, my chest felt tight. My fingers still tingled. The air didn’t feel the same.

I forced a laugh at something Dove said, but it came out weak.

Just a notebook. Just a joke. Light was the exact same as he always was. 

That’s all it was.

And yet, even after I’d gone home and even after I laid silently in my bed- I still hadn’t stopped thinking about it.

Chapter 3: The Cost of Humour

Summary:

Sometimes you don't realize you've broken something until it's too late to fix it. Sometimes it's yourself.

The shine of early morning light hit my eyes, blaring through my eyelids. I groaned, throwing an arm over my face in an attempt to shield myself from the rude awakening to no avail. The sun was too bright, and my timer blaring incessantly didn’t help. It was shrill, bleeding into my ears so much so that I couldn’t ignore it anymore. I groaned into my elbow, then sat up heavily- rubbing the sleep out of my eyes. I was groggy, like always, and exhausted. I was the complete opposite of a morning person, much preferring to do my work at the dead of night then wake up at six in the morning and walk to my stupid highschool classes.

I was still tangled in my sheets as my mother hovered in the doorway, eyes stuck to me like glue. I hardly noticed she was there, until my light flickered on and the steps of her leaving snapped me out of my zombie-like state.

I got to my feet and glanced around my room, half-expecting something to feel... off.

But it was just morning.

Just another regular, irritating morning.

I threw on the first clean uniform I could find, and trudged to the bathroom to brush my teeth. I was halfway through the routine, eyes dull in the mirror, when her voice called out from down the hall. “Still not awake? Honestly, Aria. What time did you even go to bed?”

I didn’t answer. Toothbrush in mouth.

She appeared in the doorway a second later anyway, arms crossed, lips pursed in her signature faux-smile. The kind that looked friendly to strangers but always made my stomach twist.

“You didn’t even say good morning,” she said sweetly. Too sweetly. “But it’s fine. I’m just your mother. Just the person that raised you on her own, with no help.”

I spat out the toothpaste, reaching for the towel. “Morning, mum.”

“You know, some girls your age would kill to have a mother who’s home in the mornings. But I guess I’m just lucky, right?”

I said nothing as I dried my hands. There was never any point when she got in moods like this. All I could do was nod and agree and hope she didn’t take it as a ‘sas attack’ as she liked to call it.

She stepped into the room like she owned it, which… She did. A fact she always loved to remind me of whenever she had the chance. 

“I left your lunch on the table. Hope you’re thankful for it this time.”

“What is it?” I asked, reaching lower to grab my mascara from the drawer.

“Food.”

I paused, and gave her a blank stare.

She uncrossed her arms, and curled a lip at me. “What’s with that look? Is this that teenage attitude that Sachiko keeps telling me about? You know, you should be a lot more like their family. You’re always over there and never ever home. It’s a shame you didn’t end up more like Light.”

“I’m just tired.” I sighed, finally rummaging enough to find what I was looking for. I leaned forward into my mirror, tilting my chin slightly while I combed the wand through my lashes.

“You’re always tired. And distant. And cold.” She sighed, loud and deliberate, like it took effort to breathe around me. “I don’t know where I went wrong with you, Aria. Your father would’ve known how to handle this.”

My jaw clenched. There it was.

“He was the one you listened to. Not me. The big bad police officer always had you in check.”

I didn’t reply. There wasn’t anything I could say that wouldn’t spiral into something worse. So I just tied my hair up in silence, tossing my makeup back into the drawer and slamming it shut. It was the only hint of defiance I could throw back at her. 

Her eyes tracked me in the mirror, searching for weakness like she always did. But eventually, she gave up.

“I’ll be out late tonight. Don’t wait up. Not that you usually do.” She turned to leave, but paused in the doorway. “Try to smile more today, okay? You look prettier when you do.”

The door shut behind her with a click.

I frowned, knuckling white around the sink. 

Yeah, right.

I grabbed my bag, skipped breakfast, and left the house like it was on fire. The air outside was brisk, but it felt better than the heaviness I’d just walked out of.

I walked past the same way I always did. Same convenience store, same paved hills, same old people sitting on their decks watching the crowds pass by. By the time I got to school, the halls were already filling up with backpacks and overused perfume. I made my way to my locker, huffing as I struggled to twist the broken clasp on my lock.

And then- Dove. Sayu trailing behind her.

“Oh my god, Aria.” Sayu grinned, shoving her flip phone in my face. “You won’t believe who texted me after you guys left last night!”

My gaze flickered to the screen. Her phone was just like you’d expect, pink and sparkly and covered in those little plastic rhinestones you’d get from the dollar store. I chuckled, Takeshi’s name on display. I read out the text,

‘Hey, I can’t wait to see you at school today.’

Sayu squealed so loud it startled a few nearby students, slapping her hand over her mouth like she hadn’t meant to make such an intrusive sound. She shoved her flip phone back to her face, smiling from ear to ear. “He texted back !” she whispered with a mix of triumph and panic, bouncing on her toes. “Look what he said! What do I say to that ? Oh my god, he’s so cute, I think I might literally throw up-”

She was rambling at full speed now, eager despite the early morning hours. She turned the phone towards Dove, ponting at each message with her index finger. “Should I put an emoji, or no emoji? Is that too much? Like, he put the smiley but it wasn’t an emoji it was just the text icons so is a full emoji giving away that I’m interested in him? But then what if he thinks I’m dry?”

I parted my mouth to answer, ideas of sarcastic remarks mixed with helpful advice swimming in my head- but the words never made it out. The words snagged in my throat and disappeared as quickly as they came.

Because then- I saw him.

From the corner of my eye his clean brown uniform came into view, then his neatly brushed brown hair. That overly calm walk that always made it seem like the hall was making way for him , not the other way around.

Light.

His footsteps echoed against the tile as he passed just behind Dove. He wasn’t looking at her, or at anyone else- his gaze was forward, distant, like his thoughts were somewhere more important. But then his eyes shifted, barely, but enough to meet mine.

And just like that, the buzz of the hallway dulled. My stomach twisted. The heat in my face flared hotter than Dove’s phone light. I snapped my eyes away, pretending to focus on the split ends of my dual braids.

Did he see me? Oh god, I look like a wreck today. He definitely saw me.

I bit my tongue as I watched him walk by, and a thought arose in my head. I still have his shirt at home.

The idea made my heart pound, like it was more intimate than it was.

The bell shrieked overhead, loud and jarring, and instantly the hallway erupted into chaos. Lockers slammed shut, feet thundered across the tile and voices swelled into a hundred conversations at once. It was like being caught in the undertow of a human current- shoulders bumping, bags swinging, everyone rushing to beat the late bell.

“Ugh, are you serious?” Dove groaned beside me, yanking open her bookbag with one hand while trying to wrangle her blazer sleeve back up with the other. “I forgot my textbook. I don’t have time to go home and get it.”

We started to walk to our classes, trying our best to push past the overcrowding in the halls. “Which class?” I questioned, trying my best to make a path in front of me as Sayu stayed engrossed in her phone.

“History.” Dove sighed. “Kobayashi’s gonna kill me.”

“We have history class together, I’ll just let you borrow mine-”

But before I could finish the sentence—
Yank.

A sharp pull at the end of my braid jerked my head sideways, cutting my words clean in half.

I turned, breath catching. And there they were. A group of guys I knew decently well, but only remembered half the names of. I ripped back my head, eyebrows scrunched and hand clutched to my skull as I tried to weed out which one had pulled my head down.

“Look at Aria’s eyeliner.” Hinata laughed to the other boys, pointing like a show to be displayed. “-And those braids? What is that- Wednesday Adams?”

Rage pulsed hot beneath my skin, crawling up my neck like a rash I couldn’t scratch. I barely heard the rest of what he said- just the way he said it, like he was above us, like I was nothing. My vision tunneled, the crowd around me blurring into background noise. I didn’t think. I didn’t need to.

As I passed him, I slammed my shoulder into his with enough force to rattle his balance.

“Bitch.” I breathed, just loud enough for him and his little group to hear. “You probably get off on these braids from how much fucking porn you watch.”

Hinata narrowed his eyes, but just as he was about to counter- I was dragged through the crowd by a forearm.

“Aria, god!” Dove’s grip on my sleeve was unrelenting, Sayu right beside her. “You need to learn to shut your mouth sometimes. You do this every time and every time you just get the same result!”

“Aria, chill,” Sayu hissed under her breath. “Do you want another detention?”

My expression scowled. “They deserved it.”

“Maybe, but you don’t get a trophy for verbal homicide!”

Dove let out a sigh through her nose like she was tired of having this conversation, and Sayu just kept walking, heels of her boots clicking against the floor like punctuation. The crowd swallowed us up again, the rhythm of the school day pulling us forward whether we wanted to follow or not.

✢ ✢ ✢

I managed to trudge myself to my desk, sitting through lecture after lecture about god-knows what. In hindsight, I should’ve expected that my grades were poor in school. I just couldn’t find it in me to care, the same excitement I had for my favourite shows or artists just didn’t correlate into school. Sometimes I understood why my mother was so disappointed. 

I sat stiff, pen in hand, knuckles aching from how tight they’d curled. My braid hung crooked where he’d yanked it. I didn’t fix it.

The rest of the day blurred. Bells rang. Classes shifted. At lunch, I picked at rice while Sayu sat across from me, scribbling doodles into the corner of her math notebook, eyes narrowed like she was in a silent battle with geometry. Dove had earbuds in, mouthing lyrics I didn’t recognize. We ignored the small comments thrown our way. We ignored the friends that scattered around Sayu and completely pushed Dove and I to the side.

Everything felt weirdly far away. It was a weird day overall. Some days were just like that. My energy tended to shift in that way, and I was never too sure why.

By last period, my body felt heavier than it had all morning, like the act of staying upright was its own kind of rebellion. I was still going through the motions, but barely.

“Aria.” Dove mumbled, voice low and whispered as to not alert the teacher’s attention. “I have no idea what we’re doing.”

She sat next to me in our history class. I was lucky, the teacher didn’t move us despite how loud our laughs were combined when the work periods started. I glanced at her from the corner of my eye. 

“I never do. I don’t know why they teach us this crap. It’s not like I’ll ever need to know about Japan’s trade routes with Canada, and I’m already fluent in English.”

“Dude.” Dove stared blankly like I was an idiot. “We were born in Canada. You’re literally Canadian.”

I gave her a look. “Not anymore I’m not. I couldn’t tell you the provinces if I tried. I haven't been there since I was like- two.”

Then, the teacher’s voice interrupted our very fruitful conversation, blaring over the class. “Students, I have some sad news I would like to announce to the class. Now, I don’t want to hear any comments, I just want to ensure that we all approach this topic delicately, especially with the family.”

Dove and I’s heads snapped to the front of the classroom. Curious.

“I’m sure many of you know Hina Aoki. She was a well-loved member of the Daikoku student body, and it’s with deep regret that I inform you of her passing late last night. We ask that you be respectful in the coming days as we process this loss as a community.”

My heart stopped.

The classroom fell deadly silent, but somehow felt more thundering than ever. 

…What?

The hum of the fluorescent lights burned my eardrums, and the scratch of a student’s pencil almost sent me into a fit. My pulse pounded in my throat, and for a second I couldn’t tell if I was breathing or not.

What did he just say?

The words echoed in my head, a repeated orchestra that refused to die down.

Hina Aoki

Passed away

Last night.

A slick chill coated my palms as I rubbed them together, the sweat making it harder to find any comfort in the motion. My nails dug crescent marks into my palms, like they were trying to anchor me into a reality I couldn’t believe. No, that I wouldn’t believe. This was crazy, a joke. A coincidence? 

My vision blurred slightly at the edges. Everything in the room tilted- not physically, but in that sickening way when your brain suddenly drops weight like an elevator missing its floor.

I felt my stomach lurch. The teacher’s mouth was moving- he was talking, but I couldn’t hear. I couldn’t hear anything but the shallow wheeze of my own panicked breaths. Face white as a ghost, I felt my lunch threaten to rise back up and burn at my throat.

“Is it bad that I wanna laugh..?” Dove hushed into my ears.

My hand shot up. In a daze that felt like an out of body experience, I heard myself ask the teacher to go to the bathroom. With his permission, I sprinted, barely making it to the toilet before I lost the contents of my stomach.

I slowly wiped my mouth with toilet paper, hands trembling. Sweat-ridden forehead laid in my arms, my hands gripped the porcelain for support. The bathroom floor tiles were cold against my knees as I shuddered, staring distantly into the water like the answers I wanted laid at the bottom.

I stayed there for what could’ve been seconds or hours- heart hammering, hands shaking, mind caught in a loop of that name.

It’s not real.

I’m dreaming.

This is all just a coincidence. A notebook can’t kill people.

I could ask Light-

I denounced the idea as soon as it arose.

The sound of the door opening and closing made my breath hitch in my throat, then a voice called out for me. 

Dove.

“You good?” she asked softly, voice barely above a whisper. “You’ve been in there all class. School’s almost over. I brought your stuff.”

“Thanks.”

My voice came out thin, raw. I fumbled with the stall lock and stepped out, eyes down, hair clinging to my cheeks in sweaty strands. One look at Dove’s face told me I looked like hell. She didn’t say it. She didn’t need to.

We stood there for a moment, just existing in the thick, buzzing silence of the empty bathroom. I left for the mirror, and my fingers gripped the edge of the sink. I didn’t want to meet her eyes.

“Hey, Dove..?” My voice cracked. “Can I ask you something?”

She nodded slowly. “Sure.”

“Do you ever feel like you did something…” I swallowed hard. “And you didn’t realize how bad it was until after? Like… way after?”

Dove blinked at me, tilting her head slightly. “You mean like… prank-calling Takeshi?”

Her tone was light, trying to pull a smile out of me. But I couldn’t give her one.

I didn’t even try.

My chest stayed tight, my throat raw. I just nodded- small, automatic.

“Yeah,” I said. “Something like that.”

She wouldn’t believe me if I tried. This whole thing was so obscene that no one would believe me.

Dove didn’t push. She just handed me my bag, her touch careful, like I might break if she brushed me too hard. I hated that I might.

She mumbled something about giving me a minute and waiting outside. I barely registered it until the door swung shut.

I pressed my head against the mirror, staring darkly at the reflection. My blue eyes were almost black, my skin pale and hair stringy.

What if it was all real?

My reflection grimaced.

If it’s not, then why am I remembering the exact spacing of the letters? The way the ‘H’ in Hina was capitalized to look like Light’s handwriting?

That notebook.

I needed to see it again. I needed to know.

Chapter 4: When the Lights Flicker

Summary:

Aria returns to the Yagami house, trying to pretend nothing’s wrong. But when a live news broadcast shatters everything she thought she understood, she realizes she’s in way deeper than she ever meant to be, and there might be no way out.

I didn’t want to go.

I told myself I wouldn’t.

It worked- until it didn’t. The longer I stayed away, the more it started to feel like a bad dream. Like maybe I wasn’t the kind of girl who wrote names into a notebook that handed out heart attacks like Halloween candy.

But then, Sayu called.

“We’re both hanging out and my mom’s making dinner. You coming or not?”

Her voice was light, like we were still just three girls playing truth or dare.

“Is Light gonna be home?” I asked before I could stop myself.

“God, you’re so obvious,” Sayu snorted. “He’ll be upstairs all night doing nerd stuff. Hurry up.”

So, against my better judgment, I went.

✢ ✢ ✢

The wind pulled my hair into my face as I stood outside the Yagami gate, hands shoved deep in my pockets, heart pounding.

The door swung open.

"Took you long enough!" Sayu grinned, waving me in. "Come on, Dove's already inside!"

I slipped off my shoes and stepped into the warm familiarity of the house. The scent of curry floated from the kitchen. Sachiko peeked out, her apron crooked and her face lit with a soft, genuine smile.

"Aria!" she said brightly. "So good to see you, sweetheart. Staying for dinner?"

Light stood at her side, arms crossed, gaze already locked on mine- too calm, too measured.

"Hey, Aria," he said, pleasant and perfect. "Didn’t know you were coming by."

I smiled- or something close enough to it- and slipped toward the living room.

Light murmured something low to his mother, too soft for me to hear, before ascending the stairs. His footsteps faded until the house swallowed them.

Dove slid into his place at the stove, helping Sachiko with easy familiarity. Sayu flopped onto the couch beside me, leaning in close enough that her shoulder brushed mine, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. Like she was letting me in on something no one else was supposed to know. “You know, my brother was asking about you the other night.”

My body froze. I met her eyes, taking in the innocent smirk on her features. If only she knew.

“Yeah?” I asked, trying to keep my voice steady. “What’d he say?”

Sayu smirked, completely unaware of the way my fingers shook against my thighs. She avoided my gaze, tapping a finger against her chin as she hummed. “Uhhh…”

“-I don’t remember.”

I blinked. “Sayu!”

“Whaaat?!” She teased, shaking her head dismissively. “If I did know, I’d tell you! I just remember that he was asking something about you!”

I stared at her, but she just smiled and leaned back, clearly pleased with herself. My fingers fidgeted in my lap. Whatever Light had said, it didn’t matter. Not compared to what I really needed to know.

My eyes wandered toward the staircase. I could still hear the faint creak of the last step he’d climbed. His door was probably shut already. Locked, maybe. He never used to lock it, but now? Now I couldn’t be so sure.

If I went up there now, would he notice? I could always listen in, see if I could catch him speaking about something- but that idea was crazy. Someone would notice.

Or would they?

My breath caught in my throat. I could be quick. Say I needed the bathroom. One more look. Just to be sure. Quiet, swift. In and out.

But before I could move-

“Girls! Light!” Sachiko’s voice called brightly from the kitchen. “Dinner’s ready!”

The words snapped the thought from my mind like a rubber band. I swallowed, startled, as Sayu arched her back forward with a groan, already stretching her arms. 

“Finally.” She muttered. “I’ve been smelling that food for hours, I'm so hungry!”

I nodded, following her to the table. I snuck a glance over my shoulder at the stairs, biting my tongue as Light trod down, and met my eye for a brief second. I whipped my head back in front of me, face burning.

The table was a quiet masterpiece: bowls of steaming rice, glossy miso soup, neatly plated pickled vegetables, and a rich, golden chicken curry that smelled like warmth itself. The scent alone made my stomach twist, though not with hunger. My fingers trembled slightly as I picked up my chopsticks, trying to act normal. Polite. Present.

I took a small bite of chicken, the spices sharp on my tongue, grounding me for a moment- just long enough for Sachiko’s voice to break through the silence.

“So Light, how’s your studying going?” She asked, and Light looked up from his meal.

“Good. I’m going to head to the library after dinner. The entrance exams are coming up, and I’d rather stay ahead than catch up.”

“That’s great, honey.” She smiled. “I’m so proud of you. I know you’ll get in with an excellent score.”

Light nodded, his chopsticks tapping softly. The room settled into warm silence- until Sachiko turned to me, voice gentle. “And, Aria, how’s your mother-”

The front door opened with a soft thud.

All our heads turned. My breath hitched as Soichiro stepped into view, still in uniform, the wear of his long shift carved into the lines of his face. He looked exhausted- like he hadn’t slept in days.

I hadn’t seen him in what felt like weeks.

My fingers tensed slightly around my chopsticks.

He reminded me so much of my dad…

The kind of man who carried the weight of the world so the rest of us wouldn’t have to. Soichiro didn’t even know it, but he’d become the closest thing I had left to a father. Maybe he suspected it, with the way he spoke to me or the way he’d help me with my homework occasionally or let me sleep over with Sayu on school night if my mother was being particularly difficult.

And maybe that’s why I always sat up a little straighter when he walked in.

He stepped in. “Hello, everyone. Hello, Dove and Aria. Nice to see you both.”

His tone was slow, slightly worn out. Despite this, he still spoke to us fondly, as he often did. I smiled at him.

“Welcome home, honey.” Sachiko grinned. “Would you like some dinner?”

“That smells wonderful, Sachiko… but I’m afraid I’m completely wiped out. We had a long night at the station- pulled an all-nighter, actually. I think I’ll head straight to bed.”

It was often like this in the Yagami house. Soichiro was the police chief, a taxing job in of itself- especially in the Kantō region. He’d come home late in the evening, greet his family warmly, then head straight to bed. I felt sorry for him- the way he never had a moment for himself. He believed it was his duty- his job to keep his family in a safe home.

I always wondered why Light aspired to join the same job he did.

My eyes followed him as he went to his room, briefcase in hand. My lips thinned in pity.

Dinner wrapped up quietly, giving way to the scrape of chairs against the floor. We each rose from the table, stacking our dishes and carrying them to the kitchen in a practiced rhythm. Light was the first to excuse himself, murmuring something about needing to gather his notes before the library closed. His footsteps faded up the stairs, steady and deliberate.

The rest of us drifted into the living room. Sayu flopped onto the couch with a dramatic sigh, Dove trailing behind her, already stretching like she was settling in for the night. I eased down beside them, the warmth of dinner still buzzing in my chest, dulled slightly by the tension I hadn’t managed to shake.

Sachiko moved with a kind of motherly efficiency, grabbing the remote and flipping through the channels like she was scanning for peace. She paused briefly, hovering over a romantic comedy- until the screen abruptly cut to a breaking news report.

The shift was immediate. The vibrant colors drained into grayscale as the newsroom’s cold lighting took over the screen. The anchor’s voice blared into the room- sharp, urgent- stopping Sachiko’s thumb mid-click.

“ We are interrupting this program to bring you a live, globally televised broadcast from interpol. With Japanese voice-over by interpreter Yoshio Anderson. ”

Confusion flashed over Sachiko’s expression. Her forehead wrinkled, hand trapped hovering over the buttons on the remote. I glanced at Dove and Sayu, their reactions differing. Sayu sat still, seemingly bored while Dove furrowed her brows in confusion. The TV continued, a man appearing at a station desk with long black hair and a nametag sat neatly in front of him. 

“ I am Lind L. Taylor, more commonly known as ‘L’- The sole person able to mobilize police in every country worldwide. ” The man paused, peering down to the floor before making eye contact with the camera again. “ Criminals have been the target of a killing spree, which has turned into the biggest mass murder case in history. ”

I stiffened.

“ This monstrous crime must be stopped at all costs. ‘Kira’, as the perpetrator is commonly known, will be caught. I guarantee it. ”

Images of the notebook flashed in my mind. My stomach curdled. The criminal I saw…

“ Kira, I think I have a pretty good idea of why you’re doing this. But what you’re doing… Is evil! ”

My breath hitched. My fingers dug into the couch cushions before I even realized I was gripping them. The tension crawled beneath my skin.

Then- suddenly- Lind L. Taylor jolted.

His hand shot to his chest, fingers clawing at his shirt like he was trying to dig something out. A choked gasp escaped him- raw, broken- and then he collapsed, his head slamming into the desk with a sickening finality.

I didn’t move. I couldn’t. My body was locked in place, rooted by the horror blooming in my throat like ice.

That wasn’t acting.

Sachiko gasped, throwing herself to her feet like she wanted to stop this, but didn’t move. She stayed lingering, watching with a hand to her mouth like she was in too much shock to turn it off.

Two suited men appeared on screen, dragging the body away to god- knows- where. The chair sat empty. Silence fell like a hammer.

Then, a distorted and disembodied voice. 

“ This was an experiment to test a hunch I had, but I never really thought… ” The voice was calm, almost stunned- but there was something underneath it. Something too composed. Too delighted.

Like it had been hoping to be right.

 “Kira… You can actually kill people without direct contact…” The voice continued, the static buzz behind it humming like a second heartbeat. “So… My hunch was right. I couldn’t believe it until I saw it with my own eyes, but you can… You’d have to- of course. It didn’t make sense otherwise.”

It didn’t sound like fear.

It sounded like awe.

It ramped up.

“ Listen to me, Kira. If you just killed Lind L. Taylor, the man you saw on your TV. He was a condemned criminal scheduled to die today, at this hour. His arrest and conviction were kept secret from the media, and went unreported even on the internet. Even you had no way of knowing about him, it seems…”

Sayu’s legs curled up, body going rigid as she stared, unblinking. Dove was silent, so silent it scared me. She wasn’t fidgeting absent-mindedly with her shirt anymore, she was fully locked into the broadcast, gaze glassy and lips parted. She wasn’t breathing either. I knew it because I wasn’t.

I felt the couch shake with the pulse of the broadcast, but it might’ve been my legs. Or my hands. Or the goddamn earth.

Sachiko hadn’t moved. Still standing. Still staring. Her hand hovered over her chest like she could hold her heart in place if she pressed hard enough.

The voice continued. “ But I, L, do in fact exist. So come on, kill me if you can! ”

There was a pause, the threat of his words lingering and repeating in my eardrums.

“ What are you waiting for? Come on, kill me! I’m still here, can’t do it, Kira? ”

I hadn’t realized I was nervously chewing on my nails until the metallic taste of blood burst onto my tongue. I grimaced, but didn’t stop. Couldn’t. My body didn’t belong to me anymore. It was all instinct and noise and dread. I waited for a beat, the room gone into utter nothingness.

“ Evidently, you aren’t able to kill me. So there are people you can’t kill, that’s a valuable clue. Now, I’ll give you some information in return. ” The voice was almost amused with this, no breath of relief behind the callout, no masked nerves underneath his commands. “ Although it was announced that this was being televised globally… Actually, it was broadcast only in the Kantō region around Tokyo. The plan was to broadcast to the other areas in turn, but that’s no longer necessary. You are in the Kantō region of Japan, Kira. ”

The silence that followed was unbearable. Like the world held its breath with us. Every creak in the floorboards, every buzz of the TV speaker, every unspoken what the fuck cracked through me like thunder. A chill ran through me that had nothing to do with the autumn outside.

The air in the house wasn’t moving.

None of us were.

“ And, although the police missed this, your first victim was the Shinjuku killer who took eight people hostage in a nursery school. His crime, when compared to those of the notorious murderers who died of heart attacks, was not very serious. Moreover, this case was reported in Japan. Nowhere else. That was all the information I needed. I knew, Kira, that you were in Japan! And that your first victim was nothing but a guinea pig for testing your powers! ”

I couldn’t move, couldn’t gasp or mutter like everyone else in the room could.

Not when every single word he was saying matched the timeline in my head. The Shinjuku killer. The first page of the notebook. I remembered seeing it, remembered brushing past it like he simply hated criminals like every other law-abiding citizen did.

My stomach twisted. I hadn’t even thought of him since.

And now this man- this L - had ripped that entire moment from obscurity, dragged it into the light, and put it on trial in front of the world.

No one else seemed to grasp what it meant. But I did.

“ We broadcast first to Kantō because it has the largest regional population in the country. That you just happened to be there was pure luck. I didn’t expect this to work so perfectly according to plan, but… Now I dare say, it may not be so long until I send you to die. ”

The words crawled across my skin like frostbite. My heart pounded in my throat.

Because if this guy was the one looking for Kira…
And if Light was Kira…

Then how long until he dragged me under too?

“ Kira, it interests me greatly to know how you carry out your murders, but that’s something I can find out after I catch you. ” The voice murmured, raising up to a declaration. “ I’m going to find and dispose of you if it’s the last thing I do! ”

And then, just like that-
“ Till we meet again. ”

The screen flickered.

The soft, cheerful tune of the rom-com returned like nothing had happened, like a man hadn’t just dropped dead on national television. The canned laughter clashed against the silence in the room like nails on glass.

Nobody spoke.

Not at first.

Sachiko remained frozen, her hand clutching the remote like a lifeline. Sayu’s eyes were wide, glued to the TV as if a ghost might appear if she dared to blink. Dove leaned forward slowly, the flicker of the television reflecting off her glasses.

I was motionless, my mind was stuck in a loop.

L.
A test.
He was killed on live TV.

Light is Kira.

From somewhere behind us, the faint creak of a step broke the silence.

I turned, blood thudding in my ears.

Light descended from the stairs calmly, one hand brushing lint from his sleeve like he hadn’t just missed a murder broadcast. He paused near the entrance of the living room, brows lifted slightly.

“What happened?” His voice was perfectly neutral, curious and far too casual.

Sachiko jumped a little like she forgot her son was still in the house, then swiftly muted the show. “Oh, it was nothing, sweetheart. Just something…awful on the news.”

Light’s eyes flicked to the screen. “I see.”

There was a beat. A silence that felt heavier than the one before.

“I’m heading to the library now,” he added. “I’ve got a lot of entrance exam prep to finish tonight.”

He turned toward the door like it was any other evening.

And just like that, he was gone.

The moment the door clicked shut, my body finally moved. Like something inside me had snapped back into place. My hands unclenched from the couch. My legs moved on their own.

“I need to use the bathroom,” I muttered to no one in particular.

Then I stood up and slipped down the hall, heart pounding louder with each step. But I didn’t turn into the bathroom.

I turned toward the stairs.

✢ ✢ ✢

I sat at Light’s desk, locked in place as the leather notebook was before me yet again. This time, flipped open to a page I already suspected held what I wanted to see.

Lind L. Taylor.

My heart thrummed as I read the name again and again, like it might vanish if I stopped.

Light was Kira. I killed someone.

My hands ran themselves through my hair, head propped up on my elbows. 

I couldn’t look at it any longer. That damn name burned on the page. Too loud. Too permanent. My hands moved before my mind could catch up, flipping the paper over like that would erase it. But the weight in my stomach didn’t budge. I turned to another page. Then another. My fingers skimmed over names, dates, more ink pressed down with that same eerie, perfect precision. Each entry felt like it was watching me, like the book itself knew I wasn’t supposed to be here.

Then-

A sudden emptiness.

I flipped again, slower this time, until my thumb caught on something jagged. One of the pages had been ripped out clean.

I blanked, then brought myself back into reality.

He tore it out. Purposefully. That could only mean a few things: He could use the death note while the paper was ripped out, or he was trying to hide something contained on that missing page.

And for some reason, I tore one out right beside it, folding it and shoving it into my pocket. 

My heart was a hammer in my chest as I slipped back downstairs.

" My mom needs me home early, " I said. My voice didn’t even sound like mine.

They barely looked up from the TV.
I slipped out the front door into the cold, gasping for breath.

Fumbling with frozen fingers, I yanked out my phone.

Come over. Now. Don't tell anyone. It's important.

I hit send.

The sky above me was wide and dark and indifferent.
My breath hung in the air like smoke.

And for the first time, I realized:
I might be in way deeper than I thought.

Chapter 5: Just Like Him

Summary:

A body hits the floor on live TV, and Dove stops doubting. Together, they decide who deserves to die next.

A knock rattled through the silence, snapping my head up from the desk. For a second, I just sat there, blinking at the empty page in front of me, its blankness felt louder than silence should ever be.

I was alone. Thank god. My mom had vanished for the night, again. One of her "outings" that never had a curfew.

I pushed myself up, the chair creaking beneath me, and padded down the hallway. The house felt heavier than usual, shadows clinging to the corners like they were listening.

I cracked open the door.

Dove stood on the porch, clutching her sleeves, hair wind-tossed and wild. I looked at her. She looked at me.

"…Why are all your lights off?" She questioned, hesitance clear in her words.

"There’s one on in my room," I responded blankly. 

She glanced behind her shoulder, a tell of her nerves. Then, she turned back to me, face scrunched into something unsure, and followed me into the house. The door clicked shut behind her.

"Your house is like- really creepy when it’s dark like this. Are you summoning Bloody Mary or something?" She joked.

I didn’t say anything- just looked back over my shoulder. When I didn’t answer, her smile faltered a little, but she didn’t press. Just trailed behind me, waiting for an explanation as we headed into my room.

I sank down into my desk chair, the seat rolling slightly under my weight. Dove perched herself on the edge of my bed, watching with bated breath as I rifled through my top drawer. I finally found what I was looking for, a red carton of my mom’s cigarettes that I had stolen from the garage the second I got home. Dove’s eyes widened as I lit it up, taking a deep inhale of the smoke like it was the last breath of oxygen on earth.

Dove scrunched her nose in disgust at the smell. "Dude, in the house? And since when did you start smoking? You’re gonna give me a headache."

"Since today." I coughed, the little white stick still trapped between my two fingers. "You’ll get it once I show you what the hell I found."

I spun around in the chair, the blank sheet crumpled between my fingers. She watched, waiting. The worry in her face flickered- then vanished, replaced with a lopsided smirk.

"What, gonna draw me a picture?"

"You’re not going to believe me-" I started, grip on the paper tightening. "I got this from Light’s room. Writing someone’s name on it kills them."

Dove blinked. Her smirk froze halfway before slipping into something unsure. "Wait, what?"

I held the crumpled paper out like it might burst into flames.

Dove didn’t take it. She crossed her arms instead, eyebrows knitting together. "Aria, you’re really not funny. Sayu’s humour is rubbing off on yo-"

"I’m not joking!" My pitch rose, more harsh than I intended. Taking a slow, shuddering breath, I placed the paper back down, and took another drag from my cigarette, my voice lowering. "I’m not joking this time."

There was a pause. A long one. The air shifted.

Dove’s smile dropped entirely now, replaced by something like dread creeping up the back of her neck. Her eyes darted to the paper and back to my face. She appeared startled by my outburst, her grip on my grey bed sheets tightening. Then, she shook her head. "Are you okay? Like, seriously- have you been sleeping? Is this one of those manic things again because- Aria, come on. Killing people with paper? That’s not real."

I stared into her soul.

"Hina."

"What?"

"Hina Aoki."  I said again, slower this time. "Heart attack. I killed her. This is the same way Kira kills people. Light is Kira."

Dove stared at me like she was waiting for a punchline that never came.

Then she laughed- short and confused. "Okay, what the hell is this? Some sick joke? You’re seriously telling me you gave someone a heart attack with a piece of paper and a pen?"

"I’m not joking, Dove."

Her expression tilted- just slightly. Enough to show she was getting nervous. Enough to show she didn’t believe me, but didn’t not believe me either.

"Okay…" She crossed her arms tighter. "If you’re so sure about this- then prove it."

That was all the confirmation I needed.

I’d already killed one person- what was one more?

I reached for the remote, fingers brushing past empty pens and old candy wrappers until they landed on the plastic edge. Click. The screen flickered to life, casting a cold glow across my bedroom. I flipped to the news channel, my heartbeat syncing with the static crackle of the broadcast.

If I was going to prove this, I had to do it like Light did. Immediate. Public. Undeniable.

And there he was- perfect. A live report from downtown. A police standoff. The suspect armed, unstable, dangerous.

I leaned forward, breath shallow, waiting for the anchor to say it-

And then it came. His name.

Fuyuhiko Suzuki.

"Watch," I said, positioning the paper closer to Dove’s eye. "I’m going to write his name down, and he’s going to die in forty seconds from a heart attack."

I hunched over the desk, scribbling the kanji down stroke by stroke.

Dove hovered just behind me, her gaze snapping between the flickering news report and the page on my desk, like she was trying to make the connection before it was too late.

"I saw the rules in Light’s room," I mumbled as I wrote, finally finishing the last character. "He has this notebook called the death note. It had lists of rules and one of them was that if you don’t write a cause of death, the victim will die of a heart attack within forty seconds."

The last character dried under my pen.

Silence.

Dove checked the clock. Then the screen.

Then back again.

The news anchor was still talking- something about negotiations stalling. But then his voice faltered.

The camera cut sharply to the scene outside the standoff. A sudden commotion.

One of the reporters shouted. The suspect- Fuyuhiko- had dropped.

Collapsed.

Clutching his chest.

The broadcast caught it all: the confusion, the officers rushing in, the panic bleeding through the screen.

Dove’s hand shot to her mouth.

She didn’t speak.

She didn’t have to.

I shot up from my chair, and laughter erupted from my throat- sharp, cracked, like the sound surprised even me. I darted a finger towards the TV, then swerved to face Dove.

"I told you! I told you he would die!"

Dove was deathly still, a quivering voice peeking through as she looked up at me through her lashes. "…Aria, did you plan this? Like- this seriously isn’t funny and it’s starting to freak me out."

I paused, irritated. My anger bled through into my cry, "You seriously still don’t believe me?! Look at the damn TV, Dove! How the hell could I have manipulated the news station?! Better yet, how could I have predicted the future ?!"

My hand flew toward the screen, fingers trembling as the reporter confirmed it- dead.

A heart attack.

Dove’s lips pressed into a tight line. She didn’t say a word. Just kept darting glances between the paper and my face- like she was trying to decide if she’d just watched magic. Or murder.

"He’s dead…" She started, catching her breath like it might save her. "Oh my god- he’s actually dead. You- no- we killed him. Oh my god- oh my god."

She was spiraling, I couldn’t blame her, the adrenaline was thumping my heart practically in my throat. 

She stood up, and began to pace the same line like a caged animal, speaking with her hands. "That’s murder. That’s actually murder. And Light is Kira? We sat down in his house and watched that broadcast! That L guy is gonna kill him! He’s gonna kill us !"

"I already killed Hina!" The words burst out of me, louder than I meant, trembling at the edges. "And now- now we’ve killed someone else."

I stepped toward her, grabbing her by the shoulders. My chest felt tight, my grip on her arms desperate. "We can’t take it back. We already did it- both of us. You can’t bring him back, and I can’t undo Hina. So what now? We live with it? Pretend we’re still the same people?"

I looked down at the crumpled paper in my desk like it might offer an answer. "We can’t fix it. So we have to do something about it. We have to."

I didn’t know if I was trying to convince her- or shut up the voice screaming in my own head. Either way, something needed to be done with this power. 

"I didn’t want this," she repeated, quieter this time. "But…"

She swallowed, still not looking at me. "Hina was a monster. And that guy on TV… he had a gun to someone’s head. That could’ve been Soichiro- that could’ve been my mom ."

I watched her carefully. Her voice was barely holding together, but her words kept coming like she needed to say them out loud to make them real.

"We didn’t do it for fun. We didn’t do it for attention. We just…" Her arms dropped limply to her sides. "We did what no one else could."

"Yeah, yeah exactly." I nodded, eyes wide and grip loosening. "I was protecting you. We can protect other people from the people Light won’t kill."

She bit her lip, and looked down at the floor like it could comfort her. "Like who..?"

"Like those bitches at school. Like the rapists on the sports teams who walk free. Like people who hurt others and get away with it- because no one knows. Except us." I breathed. The more I spoke, the more it made sense in my head.

We were helping people. 

She finally met my eyes. There was no smile, no excitement-  just a flicker of something resigned, something raw. She wiped her nose with the back of her sleeve, then glanced at me again, cautious.

"We could tell Light."

"No."

She blinked, startled by how fast it came out of me.

"Aria… he’s smart. If we worked with him-"

"No!" I snapped, louder this time. "You don’t understand. He’s not like us. He doesn’t feel it the way we’re feeling it. "

I stood up too fast, letting go of her while my head spun violently. "He killed that guy on the news and then came back downstairs like nothing happened. I saw his notebook- and there were hundreds- no, thousands of names in there!"

Dove looked away, her jaw twitching as she chewed at the inside of her cheek. She didn’t say anything, but the hesitation in her posture said enough. She wasn’t fully on board- and if I was being honest, neither was I. But we were already too far in to turn back.

"If we do this…" She started, hesitant. "We need rules. We need to control it. Not let it control us. No names unless we’re sure. No second-guessing."

I nodded shallowly, "Yeah, and if we ever start enjoying it..?"

She glanced back at the TV. 

Her voice was soft, but there was something behind it- something I couldn’t quite name. Not hope. Not peace. Just the sound of someone trying to convince herself it wasn’t too late.

"Then we stop."

Chapter 6: The Thing in Light's Room

Summary:

Aria’s list is growing. Dove’s grip is slipping. And when a page runs out, Aria risks everything to find another, only to discover something in Light’s room that isn’t human.

By the time winter settled in, our list of names had tripled. It had been thirty days since I looked Dove in the eye and said, "Just one more." 

Since then, there’d been twenty-three more.

The thing no one tells you about playing god is how quickly it stops feeling holy. You stop shaking. You stop dreaming. You stop seeing their faces- just names. Black ink on white paper. And it’s easier- so much easier- when you stop thinking of them as people.

We didn’t use heart attacks if we could help it. Not like Light. Too obvious. Too loud. Our kills were quieter- accidents, suicides, overdoses, drownings. Just enough misfortune to be believable. Just enough doubt to hide behind.

It wasn’t just our school anymore. We combed through forums, message boards- anywhere people left stories no one listened to. Stories about abuse, harassment, cruelty. We read them all. We remembered the names. We made sure they didn’t hurt anyone else.

We weren’t being hurt anymore either.

The halls that used to swallow us whole had started parting like waves. People moved out of our way. Looked at us different. Kinder. Cautious. Sometimes even afraid. I wore my hair down now. No one pulled it. Dove stopped wearing her glasses- she didn’t have to check over her shoulder anymore.

She didn’t write as much as I did. That was fine. The nerves still clung to her, quiet, constant. She observed more than she acted, always sitting with that eerie stillness, like she was waiting for something to crack. She never said no. Never stopped me. But lately... she’d started writing, too. Slowly. Tentatively. Like she was testing ice she already knew would break.

It wasn’t about wanting to.

It was about what had to be done.

We still went to school like nothing had changed. But everything had.

Classes blurred together. Days did too. But Dove- Dove had started slipping. Her eyes stopped tracking the board. Her fingers twitched when the bell rang. Some mornings she flinched at whispers. Other times, she’d just stare … like she was etching our bullies’ faces into memory.

At first, I thought it was fear.

Now?

Now I thought she was breaking.

Not loud or messy. Quiet. Subtle. Like pressure building behind glass.

I kept an eye on her, the way she once scanned the corners of classrooms. One wrong move, and she’d get us caught. And then it would all be over.

✢ ✢ ✢

It was a cold day when Dove dropped her pencil.

It hit the floor sharp, louder than it should’ve- and she didn’t even blink. Just stared at the desk, pale, eyes glossy, like she was seeing something else entirely.

I bent down, fingers curling around the pencil, then looked up at her.

"I had a dream last night," she murmured.

"That’s vague," I said, slipping it into her pink case.

"You were there," she continued. "But you weren’t alone. You were holding someone… a man. He was thin. I thought it was Light, but... he looked wrong. Empty. Like someone who already knew he was about to die."

I stilled.

"It was raining. We were high up. A rooftop, maybe. There were giant screens all around, looping death scenes. Same moment, over and over." She paused. "You kept telling him to stay awake. But he wouldn’t stop staring at you. Like he knew. Like he’d accepted it."

My throat tightened. I hated how vivid it sounded.

"When he died… all the screens glitched. The sky turned white. I think someone important is going to die soon. And I think you’ll see it before anyone else."

I blinked at her. "Jesus, Dove. You’re seriously losing it."

"I didn’t choose to dream that," she snapped. "Try waking up to it."

I exhaled sharply and zipped her case shut. "It was just a dream. And you’re awake now."

I didn’t look at her again.
Because I wasn’t sure I believed that either.

✢ ✢ ✢

The school bathrooms were always freezing. The fluorescent lights buzzed overhead like they resented their job, flickering just enough to make the stall feel haunted. I shut the door behind me and locked it, pulling my sleeves down over my hands as I sat on the edge of the toilet seat.

It had been a week since Dove’s dream, and it hadn’t left me. Not really. But I still had names. Still had work to do.

I reached into my bra, pulling out the now-worn scrap I’d torn from Light’s notebook a month and a bit ago. It was creased and thinning, the edges practically translucent from overuse. Humming under my breath, I grabbed a pen from my hoodie pocket, balancing it against my knee- when I froze.

The page was full.

Not a single blank spot left.

I flipped it. Once. Twice. Again.

Nothing.

My blood went cold.

The names were crammed in- crooked, rushed, desperate. Nothing like Light's clean script. No margins. No second chances.

I tried to force a name in anyway, pressing hard, ink bleeding into ink- but it wouldn’t work. Not like this. Even if the notebook still recognized it, no one else would.

My jaw clenched. I’d been reckless. Stupid.

I needed another page.

There was only one place I could get it.

Light’s notebook.

I yanked out my phone and typed fast, hands trembling as I desperately searched for Sayu’s number.

hey, is ur mom home rn? I wanna bring light’s shirt back. Tots forgot lol

She wouldn’t question it.

Then another text- one to Dove- more serious.

emergency. going to yagami house. don’t say anything. I’ll explain later.

I hit send. Stared down at the useless page one more time.

Then tucked it away, stood up, and walked out of the stall.

My luck was running out. And fast.

✢ ✢ ✢

I didn’t remember the halls. The door. The sidewalk.

One moment, I was staring at a useless, overused page.

The next, the world was grey and humming and wet. Rain poured in sheets, soaking my hood and sticking my hair to my face like veins of ink. My shoes splashed down the sidewalk. I passed the same damn convenience store. The same old people stared from their porches. I tried to light a cigarette on the way, but was only met with disappointment when the rain kept it from lighting.

The Yagami house looked the same as always. White fence. Trim hedges. A porchlight flickering faintly through the storm. The warmth of it made my stomach twist.

I knocked once.

Sachiko opened the door with her usual soft smile. "Aria!" she said, stepping aside. "Come in, sweetheart. You’re soaked!"

I thanked her, walking inside like habit. Like I wasn’t returning to the house of the boy I knew was Kira. "I just needed to return something," I lied, brushing past before she could ask what. "Didn’t want to bother Light."

"He’s out studying. I think he left an hour ago," she offered, turning back toward the kitchen. "Do you want a towel?"

"I’ll only be a minute."

She nodded, oblivious, and I slipped upstairs, feet silent against the wood.

I had been in this room more times in the past two months than I believe I ever had in my life. This was the third- a marking of what I needed, not fear. I had a job to do. Light’s room was exactly as I remembered it. Too clean. Too quiet. I shut the door gently behind me and moved toward the desk.

Desk? Cleared.

Drawers? Empty.

Closet? Nothing.

My pulse picked up. I dropped to my knees, checked under his bed- nothing but dust. Yanked back the sheets, pawed through the trash can, even felt along the edges of the mattress like there’d be some hidden compartment.

Nothing.

A sick feeling rose in my throat. I’d expected this- just not yet. Not this soon.

I smacked a hand to my face, running it along my cheek. But of course it’d be this soon. He’d been called out on live television a month ago. If I were him, I’d have moved everything, burned the damn thing.

Didn’t matter. Not now. I needed that notebook.

I stood still for a second, the air suddenly heavier.

And then-

A voice. A chuckle. Deep. Ragged. Not human.

I went still. The air strained in my throat.

Slowly, I turned.

And felt my heart drop to the floor.

A monster. No, a demon.

I wanted to scream- wanted to run- but my body stood still, locked in place.

Its limbs stretched like shadows, its fingers long and ending with claws so sharp they could rip my eyeballs out. His skin- if you could call it that- was mottled and ashen, like something that had been left out too long in the rain.

And he just stood there, eyes bright and yellow and way too large for his face. His grin was stretched permanently across his jaw. 

My knees buckled, and I tumbled to the ground in horror.

It laughed at me, a low giggle that reverberated through the house. A laugh so wrong and so unearthly I thought I might puke.

"Aria Mordain, huh?" the thing said, voice low and amused- like it was tasting the name.

I didn’t answer. Couldn’t. My mouth was open, but nothing came out.

He tilted his head, eyes glowing like headlights. "Or do your friends call you something dumb, like... AM?" He snickered. "Humans always give each other weird little nicknames. Like it means anything."

Finally, my body worked with my brain, and I crawled to the back wall. My bones were shaking, my words coming out in jumbled stutters as I tried to make sense of what was in front of me. It simply watched, unreadable expression on whatever it called a ‘face’.

"I’m Ryuk." He pressed. "Not that you cared to ask."

I stared, then dared to scramble upright, tripping over myself as I gripped the wall for support. I lifted my head, breaths strained- and stared.

It’s going to kill me. I meddled in shit I wasn’t supposed to. I’m gonna die.

When I finally found my feet, I had slowed my breaths enough to rationalize what this was. Light’s alive. He must’ve made a deal- or something like that. I was stupid to think that using this thing wouldn’t come with some paranormal consequences.

"What-" I struggled, "What do you want?"

Ryuk laughed again- raspy, amused, like watching me spiral was the best thing he’d seen all week."Humans always ask the same thing," he said, grinning with far too many teeth. "What do I want? Nothing."

He chuckled again, shoulders shaking. “I don’t pick sides, I just watch. That’s the fun part.”

It wasn’t going to help. Wasn’t going to interfere. I didn’t know if that was a good thing or bad.

I turned away, forcing its hulking shape out of my line of sight. If I didn’t look at it, maybe it would stop feeling so real. Squeezing my eyes shut, I tried to blot it out- to drag my attention back to what mattered: the notebook. The damn notebook.

Not the towering thing behind me, not the way it stared like I owed it a debt I hadn’t agreed to.

I shook my head. Hard. My throat scraped raw with every breath, like I was trying to swallow glass. 

"So..." I spat, voice breaking through the silence. "You’re Light’s... creature."

The words sounded stupid even as I said them. I was trying to fit this nightmare into something logical- into something my brain could understand- but nothing fit.

"Hah! I'm no one's creature," it chuckled, shoulders shaking. "I'm a Shinigami. Light's just the poor human who picked up my Death Note. Guess that makes him mine, if you wanna get technical."

My hands moved faster, clumsier. I couldn’t let him and his useless words get to me. I darted past Ryuk without looking at him, heart slamming against my ribs, forcing myself to focus, focus, focus- even as I could feel his stare burning a hole straight through me.

I ripped open books, yanked up lamp bases, clawed at vents with trembling fingers. I checked under cushions, behind shelves, under rugs.

Anything. Anywhere.

I wasn’t thinking anymore- just moving, clawing through the room like a trapped animal looking for a crack in the walls.

There had to be something left. There had to be.

I snatched open another notebook, desperately fanning through the pages.

"Tch."

I flinched at the sound- Ryuk’s voice, lazy and crackling behind me. "If you thought you were his secret weapon... well. Guess he thought of that too. Heh."

I paused. 

Then- gradually swerved my head around. 

"...What…?" My hands were shaking. I clenched them into fists at my sides, trying to steady my breathing. "Does he know?"

Ryuk floated upside down, his yellow eyes gleaming like headlights through fog.

He laughed- low, gravely, pleased- and tilted his head.

"Know what?" he said, voice lilting with fake innocence. "That you’re digging through his stuff? That you’re not just the good little neighbor girl anymore?"

He shrugged, floating in lazy circles above me.

"Light's a smart kid. Smarter than you. Smarter than most. He notices things."

He didn’t say yes.

He didn’t say no.

And that was worse.

My mouth went dry. I stumbled back from the desk, pulse roaring in my ears.

He notices things.

It’s not here.

I had to leave.

I yanked open Light’s door too fast, the wood creaking loud in the silence. I froze- but when no footsteps came, I forced my legs to move. Step after step. Down the hallway. Down the stairs.

Sachiko's voice floated from the kitchen, soft and warm and utterly wrong against the ice in my veins. "Leaving already, sweetheart?"

I swallowed hard. Managed something that sounded like a laugh.

"Yeah. Tell Light I said thanks."

My voice cracked on the last word, but she didn’t seem to notice.
Or maybe she did- and was just too polite to say anything.

I slipped into my shoes with shaking hands, shoved open the door, and stepped into the rain without looking back.

The second the door clicked shut behind me, I ran.

Behind me, somewhere inside that perfect little house, I knew Ryuk was still watching.

When I finally managed to get myself home, I knew Dove would be waiting for me. She often was.

I stormed into my room, empty-handed, out of breath and soaked. 

Her eyes tracked every movement as I dropped into my chair, my fingers fumbling to tear the worn scrap of paper free. It hit the desk with a crumple, edges curling, names already bleeding into each other.
I snatched up my pen, scrawling the next name fast- sloppy, crooked, almost unreadable- the ink sinking into layers of older ink like blood into water.

I didn’t breathe. I didn’t blink.

I just stared, willing it to work.

When I finally forced the words out, the silence cracked like glass. Dove flinched, snapping her head up to look at me. 

"There’s something in Light’s room," I said, my voice low, raw. "Something... not human."

The silence stretched- taut, brittle- until Dove broke it with a tiny, uneven voice:

"Was it... cute?"

I turned, staring at her like she’d grown a second head.

Then- a beat- and the laughter hit.

Sharp. Breathless. Half-hysterical.

And deep down, we knew it wasn’t funny at all.

Chapter 7: What's Another Twenty?

Summary:

The rain hasn’t stopped. Neither has the guilt. But when Dove doesn’t return to class, Aria finds more than just a bruised friend... She finds a broken one. The page is full, but Dove wants more. What happens when the quiet one stops flinching?

It hadn’t stopped raining. Not since New Year’s.

The sky stayed the same shade of bruised grey, and everything underneath it- the sidewalks, the schoolyard, even us- felt like it was rotting slowly.

Dove didn’t talk much anymore. Not unless she had to.

We still showed up. Still sat through classes. Still smiled when teachers called on us. But it didn’t feel real. Nothing ever did anymore.

I hugged my books tight against my chest, the cafeteria doors looming closer with every step. Beside me, Sayu juggled the science project she’d been stuck building over the weekend, wobbling under the weight like she was carrying a bomb about to go off. She groaned, tilting like a baby deer on its first time on legs.

"Light could’ve picked literally any smaller project. But nooo, let’s make Sayu carry the whole damn lab." She complained, trying to get a better grip. "Whatever though, at least I didn’t have to do it."

"Here." I shifted towards her, extending out my arms to help. I held onto one end of the canvas while Sayu pulled the other, a dangerous combo as we tried to navigate through the winding corridors.

We finally shoved our way through the cafeteria doors, the noise hitting us like a wall- chairs scraping, trays clattering, voices blending into a messy, constant buzz. Sayu veered toward an open spot against the far wall, and I followed without thinking, sliding into the seat before someone else could grab it.

I dropped my bag at my feet, and peeled back the lid of my lunchbox, picking half-heartedly at the rice and tamagoyaki my mom had packed. Neat little sections of food that looked too bright, too clean, against the washed-out world around me. Even the pickled vegetables sitting in the corner felt heavy somehow, like they didn’t belong there any more than I did.

I shoveled some egg into my mouth, staring distantly into the sea of students. Sayu talked about whatever topic she had on her mind at the moment- from the show she was currently watching to the little mochi cakes she made with her mother the night prior. I tried to keep up, I really did- nodding when I was supposed to, tossing in a word or two like I was actually there.

Somewhere between the talk about TV shows and snacks, Sayu mentioned that Light had finally gotten accepted into To-Oh. Big surprise. As if we didn’t already know he’d ace every test they threw at him. He was Japan’s prodigy kid, it only made sense that he would make it into one of the best universities in the country. She made it sound like he’d won the damn lottery. I barely even reacted, just nodded, feeling the weight of the Death Note scrap burning a hole through my shirt.

But my mind was somewhere else entirely.

The notebook.
The names.
The weight of a hundred deaths balanced between my fingers.

I shoveled another bite of rice into my mouth, chewing mechanically, like that would somehow drown it out. It didn’t really taste like much, but that was to be expected. Since I picked up that damn thing, my appetite had completely disappeared. I didn’t crave takeout like I used to, I didn’t enjoy cooking at the Yagami house and I gagged when the smell of food hit my nostrils.

Luckily, that’s when Dove slipped into the seat across from me, saving me from having to fake it any longer.

But there were always other worries when she was around. Especially when I saw the dead look in her eyes.

"Dove, what do you think? Should I study or finish the last episode?" Sayu added, seemingly engrossed in the meal in front of her.

Dove blinked, then shook her head a little. "Sorry, what did you say..?"

"The last episode!" Sayu pouted. "Of Scarlet City? Dude- how do you not know? Hideki Ryuga’s in it!"

"C'mon, Dove," I said, leaning my arms on the table and shooting her a look out of the corner of my eye. My voice stayed light, almost hesitant- testing the waters. "You’re obsessed with that guy, right?"

"Yeah-" Dove started, appearing almost as if she wanted to snap herself out of it, but couldn’t. "Yeah I do. Uh, you should watch the show, Sayu."

Sayu squinted at her, suspicious. "Wow. Enthusiastic." She leaned in across the table, dramatic, like she was interrogating a criminal. "You usually foam at the mouth when Hideki Ryuga’s involved. Who brain-swapped you?"

Dove let out a small laugh- too sharp, too fast- like she was trying to jam the right reaction into the wrong shape. "Guess my brain got swapped," she muttered, reaching for her water bottle with shaky fingers.

Sayu raised an eyebrow but let it go, grabbing a chip instead.

I didn't.

I watched the way Dove’s hand trembled against the plastic, the way she blinked a little too hard, like she was forcing the world back into focus. 

I couldn’t let her break down in public like this. It was too obvious, and if Sayu was noticing it, then surely others were as well.

I sucked in a breath through my teeth, changing the subject. " Sooo , Sayu. When are we binging that horror movie you said would 'totally ruin our lives'?"

"Oh. My. God." Sayu’s voice immediately heightened its pitch, her excitement on display. "Just wait. I watched it with my dad the other night and he had to turn it off because he said it was too scary for me! But I can handle it." 

She beamed like she was proud of herself. 

"Totally," I said, half-smiling as I stabbed at my rice again. "You didn't sleep for two days after we watched Final Destination , but sure, you can handle it."

Sayu swatted at me with the back of her hand. "That was last year. I’m a changed woman."

Across the table, Dove let out a breathy laugh- the kind that sounded more like she was coughing than laughing.

Sayu pointed at her immediately, mock-offended. "Hey! You’re supposed to back me up, Dove!"

Dove blinked, like she hadn’t understood a word we said.

"Sorry," she said quickly, brushing hair behind her ear, even though it didn’t need fixing. "I just... remembered something. Um, I’ll be right back."

Before either of us could say anything, she was already standing, clutching her bag like it was a shield, weaving her way through the lunch tables toward the bathroom.

I watched her go, my stomach twisting tight in a way lunch couldn’t fix.

The lunch bell screeched overhead not long after Dove disappeared, rattling the tables and cutting through whatever leftover conversation we’d been trying to hold together. I stood, slinging my bag over my shoulder, mumbling a quick goodbye to Sayu, who was too busy shoving the last of her chips into her mouth to care.

The hallways blurred into the same grey shuffle as always- the press of bodies, the scrape of shoes, the stale smell of rain-soaked uniforms.

Third period passed like I wasn’t even there.

By the time the final bell of the day chimed, the sky outside had turned a muted, heavy blue, and the air inside the school felt like it was holding its breath. The downpour was audible, progressing from a soft pitter patter to a louder roar against the rooftops. 

Walking home was going to suck.

It hit me halfway through grabbing my coat- the sharp, wrong feeling I’d been ignoring all afternoon.

Dove hadn’t come to class.

Actually, I hadn’t seen her at all since lunch.

I froze, hand hovering a few inches from the sleeve of my jacket.

Bathroom, right?

She said she was going to the bathroom.

I stood there for a second longer than I should’ve, the hallway noise buzzing around me like static, waiting for the sick feeling in my gut to go away.

It didn’t.

I yanked my coat free from the locker, slinging it over my arm, trying to shake the cold clawing its way up my spine.

Maybe Dove ditched. Maybe she got sick.

Maybe she was already halfway home, laughing at me for freaking out like a mom.

I shoved through the heavy double doors and into the hallway. The noise dulled as the crowd thinned- most people were already heading out, shoes squeaking against the wet floors.

I hesitated when I passed the bathroom, and my fingers twitched at my side.

Stupid .

She’s not gonna be there.

Still- before I could talk myself out of it, I pushed the door open. 

The bathroom smelled like bleach and rainwater. I stepped inside, letting the door sigh shut behind me.

For a second, I thought it was empty.

Then I saw her- crumpled by the sinks, knees tucked tight to her chest, backpack half-open and books spilled out around her like a storm had hit.

Dove.

Crap.

I dropped to my knees so fast the impact rattled up my bones. Dove barely even flinched.

Blood matted the side of her hair, and smeared into the white tile like someone had tried to wipe it away and given up halfway. Her backpack was half-crushed under her, papers fanned out like fallen feathers.

Some idiot part of my brain thought, Well, at least she got out of last period.

I wanted to punch myself in the mouth the second the thought formed.

She didn’t look at me.

Just stared blankly ahead- like I wasn’t there, like nothing was.

My hands hovered uselessly for a second, not sure where to touch without hurting her more.

Then- sharp, sudden- her head jerked toward me.

Her eyes locked onto mine, wild and too bright, and for a second it felt like she didn’t even recognize me.

A burst of something- panic, adrenaline, or sheer survival  snapped through her, and she lurched forward before I could react.

"Aria!" She cried, gripping onto my skirt like I’d fly away. "Where is it?!"

"What?" I tried to take a step back, but was trapped.

"The paper !" She seethed, a little too loud for my liking. "Where the hell is the paper ?!"

"Dude! Keep your voice down!" I hissed through my gritted teeth, looking over my shoulder every few seconds. "Why do you need it?"

Dove hesitated- then dropped back down hard, curling into herself.

But it wasn’t the same as before.

She hugged her knees to her chest like she was holding herself together by force, her whole body twitching with a raw, wired energy. Her eyes were blown wide, glassy and wild, locked on nothing. She gnawed viciously at the nail of her thumb, jaw tight like she was chewing through every awful thing that had ever been said to her.

She tightened her lips as she finally spoke up. "These- these girls came. They followed me in here. They said I was weird. They said I looked funny and talked funny and just wanted attention."

I blinked. "-And the blood’s there because..?"

Her eyes flashed to mine again. "Because I stood up for myself this time. I told them to fuck off, that they were basic bitches with basic interests and the personality of a wet mop."

Before I could stop it, a snort left my nose. 

"They hated it. Everyone always tells you to get up and tell these people off, but the second you do they get angry ." She continued. "They grabbed my backpack like they usually do- but this time- this time one of them grabbed me by the back of my head. And…"

Her sights trailed to the sinks’ countertops.

"They slammed me into it. They didn’t even think twice, they just kept going and going and-"

Something flickered across her face- dark, electric.

A rush of something that made my stomach knot hard.

"-And I want them dead."

I stared at her, the words jamming in my throat.

Dove wasn’t supposed to want this. She was supposed to flinch. To second-guess. She was supposed to be the one who hated it. Not the one asking for blood.

I stayed frozen, mouth half-open, brain scrambling for something to say that wouldn’t make this worse. "Dove," I said slowly, voice cracking. "You don’t mean that."

She blinked at me- once, twice- like I’d just started speaking a different language.

"Don’t I?" she whispered.

Her hands shook where they gripped her knees. She laughed under her breath, a tiny broken sound.

"They didn’t even care if they killed me."

She looked up at me then, really looked, and it was like staring into something hollowed out by fire. "So why should I care what happens to them?"

I swallowed hard, my fingers twitching against my side.

"Dove... even if I wanted to," I said, voice low, trying to keep her steady, "I can’t. The page’s full. I told you that."

Dove blinked at me, slow- too slow- like she didn’t understand the words.

"No," she said, almost sweetly. "No, no, no- there’s gotta be a way."

She laughed again. A short, high-pitched sound that sounded more like a hiccup than a laugh.

"It’s just a notebook, right? Paper’s everywhere! We’ll just-" she flailed a hand vaguely, "-we'll find another one! We’ll fix it! Easy!"

Her words tumbled out fast, giddy and bright, like she was telling me about a great idea for a class project and not about how to kill people.

I watched her, stomach sinking.

"Dove-"

"Seriously!" she interrupted, beaming at me with a grin too wide, too sharp. "It’ll be fine! You’ll see. We'll find another way. Maybe... maybe I’ll just do it with my own hands!"

Another laugh, bigger this time- too big for the empty bathroom.

"Wouldn’t that be funny, Aria?" she said, voice lilting high and strange. "Poetic, even. Getting our hands dirty after all the shit they pulled. Don’t you think they deserve it?"

Something cold and sour twisted in my gut. My hand gripped the hem of my sleeve without thinking.

"You know you can’t-" I started, but was cut off immediately.

"Says who?!" She screamed, rising to her feet. "We’ve already killed how many people?! What’s another ten- no -  twenty?!"

The silence stretched, thick and heavy between us.

I stayed frozen. Brain scrambling.

Dove cracked first.

The tears came fast- angry, ugly- spilling down her cheeks like something she couldn’t hold back anymore.

She wiped at her face with the sleeve of her sweatshirt, smearing it worse, mouth twisted in something that wasn’t grief.

"I’m going to kill them," she whispered, voice shaking with something sharper than fear. "I’m going to kill them all."

Chapter 8: Where Chains Meet Snow

Summary:

In the storm’s aftermath, Aria and Dove stumble upon a new Death Note- and a Shinigami who thrives on human retaliation.

The downpour of rain soaked our hood as Dove and I walked home. We walked at a quicker pace, shielding our heads with textbooks and backpacks- anything we could get our hands on, really. She'd quieted down a little since the breakdown- at least on the surface. But something was still off . I’d expected her to go silent, to shut down like she usually did when things got bad. Instead, it was the opposite. Dove was wired. Buzzing.

She muttered under her breath as we walked, rattling off different ways she could kill the girls who split her head open- methods, details, options- like she was brainstorming ideas for a school project.

The farther we went, the more my skin itched with unease.

The rain came down in sheets, and eventually- we came to the split path to our houses.

"Let’s take the long way," Dove said suddenly, flicking her finger to the left without really looking. Her voice was weirdly casual, too casual for what she'd been mumbling about two seconds ago. "I’m really enjoying this conversation."

I nodded, following behind her. "Sure."

Despite the rain drenching the tips of our hair, Dove barely slowed down. She kept spitting out ideas- murder methods, ways to get another page- like she couldn’t hold them in. It wasn’t just anger anymore. It was excitement. Like the fear had cracked open and something darker was crawling out.

I just nodded, keeping my mouth shut. Part of me wanted to snap her out of it, shake her until she came back to reality. But the way she was talking-like she was planning a game-made my stomach flip. This wasn’t Dove. Not the one I knew.

We passed by the same houses as always, their crumbling new years decorations disintegrating with the rain. Eventually, we came by the old cemetery in the neighborhood. A shortcut.

"Let’s go that way. I’m getting cold." I offered, to which Dove agreed.

The mud sucked at our shoes with every step, thick and freezing against the soles. Somewhere along the way, the rain had given up and turned into wet, half-melted snow, the kind that stuck in your hair and made your clothes heavier. We walked under the flickering yellow street lamps, the storm swallowing everything around us in that ugly, dirty light.

Half the graves were swallowed under layers of dead moss, their names eroded into whispers by years of rain and rot. Dove was walking faster than usual- almost skipping in places, her energy sharp and jarring against the dead silence.

I yanked my black fur hood over my head, tucking my face deeper into the fake warmth it barely offered.

Something was wrong.

I could feel it under my skin, itching at the back of my neck like invisible fingers.

The graveyard’s atmosphere didn’t help. Half of it was swallowed in a low, clinging fog, the other half barely visible under the drifting snowfall, blurring the lines between the living and the dead.

Maybe I’m just being paranoid. I breathed, shutting my eyes.

This place had always creeped me out. It was nothing new.

Even as a kid, I hated it- the way the headstones leaned like they were whispering secrets to each other, the way the trees never seemed to move even when the wind howled. I remembered the four of us- Light, Dove, Sayu, and I trudging past the gates, small and shivering, trying to act braver than we felt. Sayu used to cling to my arm like she thought the dead would reach out and snatch her.

And still, we always came this way.

It was the fastest route to the snack shop from the Yagami house, and nothing- not fear, not common sense- ever got between us and cheap candy.

I squeezed my eyes shut for a second, trying to shove the memories out of my head.

Tried to forget the way Light would flash that cocky little smile and tell us we were fine.

Tried to forget how we actually believed him.

I swallowed hard, pushing the memory down like it was something I could bury if I just shoved hard enough. Thinking about it was stupid. Pointless. Things didn’t go back to the way they were just because you sat around feeling sorry about it. I told myself there was nothing I could do. I almost believed it, too- if I said it enough times- if I said it loud enough.

Like repeating a lie made it true.

We continued our walk, pace picking up somewhat as the snow lined the tops of the gravestones. The trees were blank, not a single leaf left on their frail branches. I shoved my hands into my pockets, reaching for a cigarette until-

"What the hell is that?"

I followed Dove’s finger, pausing as a little black silhouette stood out amongst the white snow.

"It’s snowing-" I started, scrunching my brows. "How the hell is it untouched?"

"I don’t know and I don’t care!" Dove gave a giddy chirp and took off ahead of me, boots kicking up splashes of slush as she went. I barely had time to open my mouth before she was already half a dozen steps out of reach, her bag swinging wildly behind her like she didn't feel the cold at all.

Just as her fingers grazed the cover, wiping away the mud- I knew what it was, and whose hands it had fallen from.

"Dove!" I shouted, voice ripping through the thick, frozen air. I stumbled forward, boots skidding over slick patches of ice and snapping dead branches underfoot. Snow splattered up my legs as I fought to catch up, heart hammering. "Don’t touch that- wait-!"

There was a pause-

And then she screamed.

I sprinted until my legs nearly gave out, slipping hard on the wet ground. I caught myself just before I face planted, lungs burning, and snapped my head toward where Dove was pointing, murmuring incoherently.

Nothing.

She scrambled back from the notebook like it was about to explode, heels skidding against the mud. "Aria!" she shrieked, jabbing a finger at it. "There’s a fucking monster- look !"

I clenched my jaw, forcing myself to scan the graveyard even though every hair on my neck was standing up.

"I know you're there, Ryuk!" I yelled, dropping to my knees next to Dove, trying to steady her. "Stop playing games and come out!"

When no answer came, a cold knot twisted in my gut.

Was this Light? Was this some kind of trap? Was he watching us right now, waiting for the perfect second to strike? To kill us without even needing the notebook? Lure us out like fish on a hook?

There was no way he’d just leave this here.

I barely had time to spiral before Dove spoke- flat, almost hollow, like she wasn’t even fully there.

"She says to touch it."

I glanced at her from the corner of my eye, lips slightly parted, but said nothing. 

My gaze flashed to the notebook.

Death Note

I hesitated, fingertips hovering over the black leather. My mind spun, thoughts of Dove bleeding on the bathroom floor. Thoughts of the countless times I’d been thrown to the ground too- and told I was worth nothing . Flashes of that power- that sick, addictive rush I got from holding just a scrap of it- punched through my mind.

The way it felt to be the one calling the shots for once.

The one with control.

The one who could decide who stayed and who didn’t.

The one who was safe .

I hesitated, every nerve screaming at me to walk away. But that hunger, that gnawing need to feel in control, tightened its grip. I knew it was wrong. Knew it would change everything. But I couldn’t stop myself. I grabbed it without a second thought.

The air shifted.

The sound of rustling chains caught my attention before her legs did. Long, frail legs like she hadn’t eaten in months.

My eyes slowly flickered up, and met with her face.

I swallowed the lump in my throat, but my fear was dulled down to a whisper.

This wasn’t Ryuk. This wasn’t Light’s notebook.

This was hers .

The Shinigami standing before me wasn’t anything like Ryuk. Where he had that crooked, gleeful grin stretched ear to ear, this one looked... broken. Her whole body sagged under the weight of her chains, the dull pink of her skin muted even further by the stormy haze around us. Her face reminded me of those old theater masks- the tragic ones- the ones carved to look like sorrow itself. If sadness had a shape, it would’ve been her. Even her eyes, oversized and sunken, seemed hollow in a way that made my chest tighten against my will.

My shoulders stiffened, grip on the death note tightening.

"You can see me now... right?" Her voice didn't hit me all at once. It unraveled in layers- low and slow, echoing against the cold air like it had traveled a thousand miles just to reach me. It wasn’t loud. It wasn’t sharp. It was heav y, a dragging, ancient kind of sound that sank into my chest and made the world feel thinner somehow. 

"Yeah-" I started, but the words snagged in my throat. 

This wasn’t Ryuk. This wasn’t some joke I was already familiar with. I didn’t know her. Didn’t know if she was friendly. Didn’t know if she was dangerous.

I forced myself to tread carefully, the way you would with something sharp pointed at your ribs. I straightened a little, choosing my words slower this time.

"Forgive my friend," I said, cautious. "She’s...new to seeing Shinigami up close."

The figure tilted her head, chains clinking softly as she moved.

"I know," she said, voice low and mournful, like a memory being spoken out loud. "I’ve been watching you both for some time."

She paused, and the air seemed to fold in on itself around her next words:

"Ryuk may laugh at you. But I know the truth. I know you’re right. There’s something different about you- both of you. You don’t just kill to protect yourselves. You kill because it makes you feel real."

I wanted to smile, but my features remained blank. I shifted downward, playing with the notebook between my fingers. I flipped through the pages, unsurprised to see them all blank, like they were waiting for me. For us .

"Is.. Is it ours?" Dove managed to tremble out, voice cracking in places.

The shinigami nodded.

I thinned my lips.

It couldn’t be this easy. No way. Things like this didn’t just fall into your lap.

There had to be a catch- there was always a catch. Some fine print scribbled between the lines, some hidden clause where we sold our souls without even realizing it.

I tightened my jaw, staring at her.

What the hell did a Shinigami want with two kids who hadn’t even made it to sixteen?

Almost like she had plucked the thought straight from my skull, the shinigami’s voice drifted through the air- soft, distorted, echoing like it had traveled a long, broken tunnel to reach me. "My name… is Myru," she said, her words stretching and fading at the edges. "I dropped my notebook for you… for a reason."

The chains around her wrists clinked faintly as she tilted her head, her glassy eyes staring through me, not at me. "The others… They mocked me. Said I was weak. That I took this world too seriously... because I cared for you humans."

I couldn’t move. Couldn’t breathe. Just listened, the cold settling deeper into my bones. 

"And maybe they were right," Myru whispered, the words laced with a sad kind of venom. "Maybe I was pathetic. But even if I wanted to…" 

She shook her head slowly, chains rattling- "I can’t kill a Shinigami. No one can."

"But you… You can kill humans. And you did - with the book Ryuk left behind."

A ghost of something like a smile flickered across her broken face. "I saw it. The way your eyes lit up.
I saw how vengeance made you alive ."

The last word echoed longest- not loud, but deep, like it clung to the air even after she finished speaking.

"I want to see you do it again."

I caught the way Dove’s face shifted- glowing with something wild and half-formed, a mess of excitement and fear twisted together into something I couldn’t untangle.

"We’ll take i-" she started, voice eager-

But I shot my hand out instinctively, cutting her off with a sharp look.

I turned back to Myru, my words slow, deliberate. Careful. "If we do this, Myru… if we take your notebook… What do you get?"

The graveyard held its breath. The air was too still, too heavy.

For a long moment, the shinigami just stared at us- the chains at her wrists swaying gently with no wind.

Finally, she spoke. Her voice floated out low and echoing, like a memory bleeding into the present. 

"The joy of retaliation."

Dove’s lips quirked upward- just a little. Like she recognized something in Myru’s words. Like she understood.

I didn’t answer her.

I just looked down at the notebook still cradled in my hands, the snow cutting cold lines down my face, blurring everything into a wet, shivering blur.

The leather felt heavier now. Like it wasn’t just a book anymore.

It was ours.

I pressed my palm flat against the cover.

No going back.

Dove said something I didn’t catch- something half-mumbled and excited- perhaps acceptance of our new weapon- but it sounded like it came from miles away.

The chains on Myru’s arms clinked once more- a low, hollow sound- just enough to rattle me back into reality.

Neither of us spoke the whole way home.

Chapter 9: A Moment of Pretend

Summary:

As Light's entrance ceremony at To-Oh unfolds, Aria finds herself caught between nostalgia and reality. Old memories resurface, but the weight of their secret lingers, reminding her that things will never be the same.

The rest of winter blurred by in pieces.

Light made it into To-Oh. His entrance ceremony was coming up quickly.

Sayu got sick twice.

My birthday came and went without much fanfare. Sachiko threw a party for me in the living room- balloons, cake, even a banner… but Soichiro didn’t come. Neither did my mother. He was busy with work, she simply didn’t care. 

Their absences hung heavier than the decorations.

The killings slowed, but they never really stopped. We kept going. Light kept going.

Only now- there were chains clinking softly behind us wherever we walked, a dull reminder that we weren't alone anymore. The news was broadcasting the Kira murders like it was the only thing going on, a constant reminder of what waited for us in the Yagami house.

We learned the rules. We learned how to keep our heads down in public. How to nod at the right times. How to make small talk while hiding the way our eyes flicked- subtle, sharp- toward every person we knew wouldn’t be alive much longer.

February bled into March, both months stitched together by the same cold gray sky, the same endless fog in our lungs.

And then April came.

The cold finally broke- but the tension didn’t.

The morning of Light’s ceremony arrived before I felt ready for it.

I stood in front of my open closet, towel still wrapped around my hair, staring at the sad handful of dresses shoved into one corner.

Sachiko had invited Dove and I to Light’s entrance ceremony weeks ago, smiling like it was obvious we’d be there. Like it was just another celebration, another banner-and-cake moment to paper over the cracks.

I dragged a red dress from the hanger- a long sleeve, tight maxi I'd forgotten I even owned,  and held it up in the mirror.

The color was too sharp. Too loud.

Maybe that was the point.

Myru was hovering behind me, watching with this interested gaze despite the mundane task I was completing. She had done the same thing while I put on makeup, and picked out my jewelry. She was more curious than I thought she’d be.

“You don’t like it?” I asked dryly, holding the dress up for Myru to see.

Myru blinked, the faint glow of her eyes flickering.

"I prefer pink," she said after a moment, voice low and oddly shy. "But it... contrasts your eyes… I don’t hate it."

Well, that was the best I’d get out of her.

“I figured.” I said, eyeing her dusty pink hair and battered lace clothes while I took the dress off of its hanger. "You'd pick pink. It's practically your whole brand."

Myru's shoulders twitched like a shrug. "We don't get much choice in the realm. Clothes are... permanent. Like scars."

That caught me for a second. I lowered the dress slightly, watching her drift lazily across the room.

"If I got you something," I said before I could stop myself, "-like a real dress, from here... would it show up? Or would it be invisible, like you?"

Myru tilted her head again, considering. 

"I don't know," she said softly. "No one's ever tried."

I glanced back at the red dress, then at the Shinigami hanging half in shadow above my bed.

"Maybe not today," I said, wrinkling my nose. "I'm already gonna be surrounded by thousands of geniuses. I'd rather not be the freak who looks like she’s sewing air."

Myru gave a low, creaky chuckle- the closest I'd ever heard her come to laughing.

It wasn't a normal laugh.

I really didn’t hate her company, though ignoring her comments in public could be kind of a nuisance. She swapped between following Dove and I depending on where the notebook went- sometimes we’d half-heartedly joke that we were divorced parents in custody of a shinigami.

But somehow, despite the way she lingered like a ghost, her laugh made the room feel a little less cold.

By the time I finished getting ready, the morning had already slipped away from me.

Dove texted that she was outside, and I threw on my jacket, shoving everything else- the Death Note page, the questions, the weight- somewhere into the back of my mind.

I climbed into Dove’s mom’s car, barely catching a glimpse of Myru trailing after us like a lazy shadow in the rearview mirror.

✢ ✢ ✢

We slipped into the packed auditorium, swallowed whole by a tide of perfume, chatter, and stiff starched suits. The air buzzed with a hundred overlapping conversations, laughter bouncing off the polished walls. Every movement felt like trying to breathe underwater- slow, cramped, forced.

It took effort- a few polite nudges and one awkward shuffle past a woman with a fur stole- but we eventually found the Yagamis near the front, just a few rows from the stage. Soichiro turned at the sound of Dove’s mom’s voice, and his tired face cracked into something warm.

“Lydia. Great to see you again. How’s the family?”

They spoke like old friends.

Of course they did- they’d worked together in the force before the Kira chaos started. She had transferred branches when things got dangerous, but the respect lingered. The history.

I offered quiet hellos all around, nodding politely before sinking into the seat beside Sayu.

“Oh my god, guys! You look so cute! I’d almost think you two went here too!” Sayu gushed, waving her hands at us as if we were a spectacle to behold.

“Like I’d have the grades for that.” I laughed sarcastically, giving her a compliment in return as we took our seats.

The space felt massive. Too massive.

Polished tile stretched in every direction, gleaming like glass beneath my shoes. Soft lights dotted the high, arched ceiling, and the room smelled faintly of roses and waxed linoleum- clean, elegant, and oddly sterile.

Sayu was already whispering under her breath, flipping her phone open and shut in bored rhythm.

I didn’t blame her.

It was nothing like our high school- too big, too bright, making me feel impossibly small.

A sharp tap crackled through the speakers, cutting the crowd's noise like a knife.

Heads whipped up in unison.

Center stage stood a man- older, pressed into a formal suit, clutching the microphone close to his chest. He looked just as expected: calm, polished, a bit boring.

He launched into a speech about tradition and excellence, his voice slipping over the room like molasses.
The words washed over me- heavy, shapeless- until they barely registered at all.

Instead, my eyes drifted upward.

Myru was perched above the stage lights, hopping restlessly between the metal fixtures like a cat too stubborn to sit still. Her jewelry rattled softly every time she shifted, but no one heard. No one looked.

Invisible to everyone but me and Dove.
At least she was entertaining.

I must've zoned out too long, because suddenly the man’s voice sharpened, slicing through the haze.

"And now, we welcome our freshmen representatives."

I straightened a little, clapping my hands lightly, automatically.

“First," the man intoned, "Light Yagami.”

The crowd stirred- applause swelled around us, but before I could even finish clapping, the speaker continued:

"And joining him... Hideki Ryuga."

The name hit the air like a stone dropped into water- quiet, but sending ripples through the room all the same.

Light stood up from his front row seat, something I hadn’t noticed until now. The other guy stood up after him, and I almost gasped out loud.

This… Hideki Ryuga was a complete opposite to the room. His posture was slouched, pale hands shoved into his jean pockets. His hair was black and wild, thrown about in a way that only made Light appear neater- more composed. 

“Dude, apparently the guy next to Light is some genius. They tied on the entrance exams, but he kinda looks like he crawled out of a horror movie,” Sayu whispered, her voice just loud enough for Dove to catch it.

Dove snickered under her breath, leaning into me slightly.

“He does give off an Albert Einstein kinda vibe.”

I cracked a half-smile, but my eyes stayed locked on the stage.

The two of them- Light and Ryuga- went about their speeches, one after the other.

The words blurred together after a while: the same polished nonsense you’d expect from top students. Work hard. Dream big. Make society proud.

I shifted in my seat, slightly bored... but also vaguely unsettled.

There was something clumsy about Ryuga's motions. Not stupid- no, he sounded smart, frighteningly so- but off.

Almost like he didn’t belong here. Like an anime nerd trying too hard to sound wise about which episode contained what obscure lore... except without the excitement. Just pure, monotone detachment.

My gaze flickered back to Light.

Would he be mad that he tied with someone?

He was always the best at everything. Had to be.

Would that needle at him?

I wasn’t sure. Light might not care. But Kira would.

The thought crawled under my skin and sat there.

I tried not to think about it.

Their speeches wound down, applause rippling politely across the room.

At the bottom of the steps, Light and Ryuga shook hands- smooth, civil, the way perfect students were supposed to.

I narrowed my eyes slightly.

Maybe Light wasn’t mad.

Or maybe... he was just better at hiding it now.

✢ ✢ ✢

The ceremony wrapped with one final, dragging speech from some faculty head whose name I already forgot. Chairs scraped back. Programs fluttered shut.

And just like that, we were spilling out of the auditorium like ants from a crushed anthill.

Outside, the sunlight hit harder than I expected- sharp and too bright after the heavy, polished dark of the auditorium.

Families crowded the stairs, snapping pictures, fussing with jackets and bouquets. The air buzzed with noise- camera shutters, laughter, the shriek of a car alarm somewhere down the street.

Sayu was the first to break free from our little pack, practically skipping down the steps. “Light Yagami, Tokyo’s newest golden boy!” she announced dramatically, throwing an arm around her brother’s stiff shoulders.

Light gave a tight, almost convincing smile, letting her cling to him like a medal he was too polite to shove off. “Yeah, yeah. You wish you could make it into To-Oh.”

Dove cracked a smile at the two, like she had completely forgotten that the man in front of her was the biggest murderer in human history. “If they forced me up there in front of all those rich people- I think I’d just jump off the stage and pretend I broke my leg- or actually break my leg. Whichever I felt like in the moment.”

Sayu snorted, clutching her side. "You’d trip on your own shoelaces before you even made it to the podium."

"Exactly," Dove beamed. "Instant sympathy points."

They spiraled into playful bickering- Dove elbowing Sayu, Sayu shrieking fake betrayal, Light rolling his eyes fondly like he’d seen this play out a thousand times before.

I smiled without meaning to.

For a moment, a painfully small, fragile moment- it felt like nothing had ever changed.

Like we were still just four kids, scuffing up our sneakers on the blacktop, chasing each other around the park playing four square until the street lights blinked on. Like we were still crowding the sidelines of Light’s tennis matches, yelling at him to teach us his fancy moves. Like we were still crammed in Sayu’s living room, losing round after round of chess to him- and laughing anyway, because it wasn’t really about winning.

It was just what we did.

Back then, we didn’t care what anyone else thought. If Light’s older friends teased us, he told them to knock it off. If Sayu made new friends at school, she’d drag them over to meet us like it was the most important thing in the world.

No matter what, it always circled back to the same thing: the four of us, stubborn and certain, believing we’d always stick together.

Believing that some things- the best things… never had to end.

At least, that’s what we thought.

Dove caught up to me, grinning, bumping her hip into mine.

"You should’ve seen your face when they said Light tied for first," she grinned. "I thought you were gonna hurl."

"Was not." I muttered, cheeks flushing. "He’s Light. He doesn’t..."

I gestured vaguely. "Tie."

Light, hearing this, glanced back over his shoulder with an easy, teasing smile.

"You know, Aria," he said, "it wouldn’t kill you to have a little more faith in me."

Dove gasped dramatically. 

"Is the genius prodigy asking for validation?" she cried. "Somebody alert the media."

Sayu cracked up. Even I laughed- a real one, bubbling up before I could stop it.

Light just shook his head, mock-patient, like he was indulging a bunch of toddlers.

"You two," he said lightly, "have always been terrible at hiding your jealousy."

It was stupid, it was playful, it was exactly the kind of thing he would’ve said before .

Before everything got complicated. Before he became someone I didn’t fully recognize anymore.

I shoved my hands deeper into my pockets, still smiling, but it felt a little tighter now.

Still, I smiled for the picture.

Still, I laughed when Sayu made bunny ears behind Light’s head.

Still, I pretended.

Because pretending was the only thing we were still good at.

If only for this moment, I could let the lie slide.

Chapter 10: The Weight of Guilt

Summary:

One phone call changes everything. Soichiro’s life hangs in the balance, and Aria’s trust in Light wavers like never before. In a moment of raw instinct, she finds herself faced with a choice: cling to what’s familiar or risk everything to survive.

I lay stretched out sideways across my bed, half-watching Gokusen flicker across the TV screen. The sound barely registered over the furious scratching of Dove's pen. She was curled up in my desk chair, one foot tucked under her, the Death Note propped messily against her knee. Her laptop sat open on the desk beside her, different forums pulled up, their bluish light washing over the room in ghostly flashes.

We had been at it for days, head buried in the death note like it owned us. We took shifts as though this was our full time job- because to us- it was.

Myru hovered near the bed, her dull yellow eyes glued to the screen like she’d never seen anything so important in her undead existence.

She drifted closer, her chains clinking softly as she moved.

"...Strange," she murmured, her voice pulling at the edges of the room like a memory. "They fight so hard... and yet they still want to be understood."

Her glassy eyes flickered, half-lidded in thought. Her voice floated out low and slow, almost like she wasn’t speaking to either of us at all.

"Some fires... don’t die out when they're supposed to," she murmured. "Sometimes they just change shape. Obsession can look an awful lot like devotion... until it burns everything down."

I shot her a sideways look. "The hell are you even talking about?"

For a second, Myru just floated there, swaying gently in the stale air.

"Nothing," she said after a pause, her voice trailing off like a frayed thread. "Just... thinking out loud, I suppose."

We sat there for a long time, the soft flicker of the TV bathing the room in shifting colors- pale blues, sharp yellows, a momentary wash of pink across the walls. Dove abandoned the desk chair after a while, crawling onto the bed beside me without a word. She sank into the mattress, her gaze fixed blankly on the screen.

The three of us drifted in a comfortable silence, the kind that didn’t need filling.

Until-

Footsteps creaked down the hall, slow and heavy.

I stiffened automatically, my muscles locking in place. Out of the corner of my eye, a shadow filled the doorframe.

My mother.

"You two- uh..." she started, her voice catching- stumbling out like she'd forgotten how to speak.

I blinked at her, confused.

My mother never stumbled. She only ever spoke with sharpness, with certainty, like her words could cut.

"Soichiro is in the hospital," she said at last. "He had a heart attack."

The world didn’t shatter all at once.

It cracked. Slow, silent- like ice splitting beneath my feet.

I froze.

I stared at her, rooted to the mattress, watching the doorway like it might swallow me whole.

"What?" My voice cracked into pieces, barely there.

Light.

He did this?

How?

His own father.

I didn’t even feel myself move.

One second I was sitting- the next I was on my feet, stumbling forward, reaching for her sleeve like a little kid who hadn’t figured out how to breathe yet.

"Please- please, can you take me to the hospital? I have to go-"

She recoiled from my touch, pulling away with a grimace like I was something rotten.

"You need to be more independent," she said flatly. "I'm not driving you. If it’s that important, you can walk."

For a second, everything inside me stopped.

The hallway behind her seemed to stretch forever, the room spinning around me, the television still flickering stupidly in the background, the smell of burnt coffee clinging to her like smoke.

The silence was so loud it crushed my ribs from the inside.

I stood there, shaking, the panic roaring in my ears so violently that I almost didn’t hear the faint shuffle of her retreating footsteps leaving me there at the threshold, clutching my phone so tightly in my fist I nearly snapped it in half.

My glare followed her down the stairs, rage bubbling hot under my skin.

It took only a second.

I stormed back to the desk, snatching the Death Note and ripping out a page, my hands shaking too much to keep it neat. Dove’s eyes followed me, a flicker of concern blinking across her features. 

"Do you want me to come with yo-"

"No." I snapped back- a little too quickly than intended. "But I need you to do something."

Myru hovered behind me, strands of pink hair blowing faintly as I grabbed Dove by the shoulders.

I was trembling- not from fear, but from something colder, heavier- as I stared straight into her wide, uncertain eyes.

"Keep your phone on," I said, voice low and cracking. "If I text you, ‘The power’s out’- you kill Light. No hesitation. No questions. You write his name."

Dove flinched, her eyebrows knitting together in a pained, confused expression. "You want me to- kill Light?" she whispered. "Aria, I know he’s scary, but that’s... that’s extreme. I still care about him. I know you do too."

I swallowed hard, the words scraping up my throat like broken glass.

"Soichiro might be dead."

The sentence barely made it out. My hands gripped harder, the pressure building behind my eyes until I thought I'd gag on it.

"Light probably killed him. And if he's willing to do that to his own dad-" I grabbed her shoulders tighter, desperate- "then he won't even blink before doing it to us."

Dove shivered under my hands, shrinking slightly at the look on my face.

But after a long, heavy beat- she nodded.

I yanked my coat off the hook, shoving the crumpled scrap of paper deep into my pocket. My fingers were shaking so badly I nearly dropped it twice.

I was halfway to the door-  heart hammering, mind racing- when Myru’s voice cut through the panic.

"Your will guides my hand. Just say the word." She murmured, her dress flowing as she floated into view. Her voice was low, almost… mournful. 

"If you decide you want Light dead," She said, "I'll make sure it happens."

I froze with my hand on the doorknob.

The words hit differently than anything she’d ever said before.

Like a key slipping into a lock I hadn't even realized was there.

Was that what I wanted?

The answer thudded through my chest before I could even think:

Yes.

But not yet.

Not now.

Not when I still wasn’t sure if the person I hated was the same one I still…

…still almost trusted.

I pressed my lips together, breathing shallowly, and shoved the door open.

One crisis at a time.

"Stay with Dove." I commanded, turning the doorknob. "Make sure she doesn't do anything rash. But-"

I glanced back at her, my hand already on the door.
"Thank you," I whispered.

Myru only nodded- slow, solemn- chains rattling faintly in the stillness.

And then I was gone.

I tore out of the house, boots slamming against the pavement, cold air burning my lungs raw.

The world blurred past- streetlights, houses, the smear of gray dawn- but none of it mattered.

Only the hospital.

Only getting there.

Only him.

Light’s face flashed behind my eyes, too perfect, too calm- and the surge of fury that hit me nearly knocked the breath from my chest.

I wanted to strangle him with my bare hands.

✢ ✢ ✢

When I finally stumbled up to the reception desk, I must have said something… or maybe just showed them the message on my phone from Sachiko- because the nurse behind the counter gave a tight, rehearsed smile and pointed me down a hallway.

Room 403.

I moved without thinking, like my body remembered how to walk even if my mind didn’t.

By the time I reached the waiting room, the exhaustion hit me full-force- a cold, heavy thing that hollowed out my chest until even breathing felt mechanical.

The walls were too white.

Too bright.

Too clean.

It hurt my eyes.

It made everything feel fake, like the world outside this building wasn’t real anymore.

I stood there, swaying slightly, dragging shallow, stupid breaths into my lungs, hands hanging useless at my sides.

The sharp, sour smell of antiseptic hit me, and my stomach lurched. I fixed my eyes on the spiderweb cracks in the tile between my boots.

Focus on that.
Not the beeping.
Not the crying.
Not the smell.

I sank into a chair because it felt like the only thing left I could do.

I didn’t even realize there were people sitting across from me until a pair of small, shaking arms wrapped around my shoulders.

Sayu .

Her face pressed against my jacket, tears soaking into the fabric, and I could feel her trembling all the way to her fingertips.

I blinked down at her.

I felt... nothing.

Just a hollow coldness, spreading quietly through my ribs like frostbite.

And somehow, that scared me more than anything else.

I hugged her back out of instinct, eyes blankly staring at the door in front of me.

Was this really happening again?

I remembered holding my mother like this when my father died. The same clinging grip. The same sharp, sterile smell clogging the back of my throat. The same worried glances cutting through the room like knives.

Only back then, Soichiro had been standing behind me- steady, solid, a hand on my shoulder to keep me from crumbling.

Now he was the one behind the hospital door.

Now he was the one lying still, fighting to stay in the world I was trying so desperately to hold together.

I should’ve told him about Light. I should’ve said that his son was a killer.

Maybe things could’ve been different.

My fingers hovered over my flip phone in my pocket.

One text- that’s all it would take.

One message, and Light would be gone.

One message, and all this fear, this sick gnawing dread, would finally end.

But memory slammed into me before I could move.

Unbidden. Unwanted.

I remembered Light sitting beside me the night my father died- his hand wrapping around mine, steady and warm.

I remembered his voice, low and certain, telling me it was going to be okay. That his family would take care of me.

That I wasn’t alone.

The lump in my throat tightened so violently it hurt to breathe. My bottom lip crumpled, and without thinking a tear fell down my cheek.

I held onto Sayu a little tighter.

Then- the door opened. 

The blue fluorescents broke through the waiting room, alerting everyone to its presence.

Light.

I froze, unable to move as our eyes met.

Light stood there like he always did, steady, composed, untouchable- while the rest of the world broke down around him.

I didn’t think. Didn’t choose.

My body moved before my mind caught up- a desperate, stupid instinct.

…And suddenly I was clinging to him, arms wrapping around his torso like I was young again and didn’t know better.

I buried my face in his chest, hating how solid he felt, how the warmth of him wrapped around me before I even realized what I’d done.

At first- he stiffened, but it was brief.

His arms closed around me without any more hesitation, like they were always meant to- one hand steady against my back, drawing slow, careful circles into my jacket.

Comforting. Practiced.

His voice dipped low, smooth and certain, just loud enough to be overheard without seeming like it.

"You're safe now," he murmured into my hair. "He's alive. It’s going to be okay."

I wanted to believe him.

God, I wanted to believe him so badly my chest ached from it.

For one breathless, broken second, I let myself pretend it was true, that the boy who had once held my hand at my father's funeral was still standing here now, telling me the truth.

Protecting me.

Not lying.

Not plotting.

I squeezed my eyes shut, feeling the burn of shame creep up my throat, swallowing me whole.
I clung tighter, not because I trusted him- but because I didn’t know how to stop.

Somewhere behind me, I felt him shift, the faintest straightening of his shoulders, the practiced glance he cast across the room.

I didn’t notice.

Not then.

After a few painstaking minutes, he nudged me inside, a gentle nudge like it was a reminder of what was waiting for me.

I let go of him.

Let go of the fleeting safety, the familiar cologne he'd worn since I was twelve- the one that still clung to my jacket.

Let go of who he used to be. Of who I once believed he was.

My hands dropped to my sides, hollow and shaking, and I turned toward the hospital room.

The door swung open with a low groan that scraped along my spine.

And there it was. The truth.

Soichiro Yagami- the man who carried the weight of a family, a city, a country… Now pale and still, swallowed by a nest of wires and machines, strapped to monitors like he was just another part of the wall. Above him, the TV buzzed out news reports, voices flat and clinical: another list of names, another handful of Kira’s victims.

The sound blurred into static at the edges of my mind.

I stepped into the room. I sat down on a chair, and stared.

I grabbed his hand like his son had once held mine. I felt tears running down my cheeks that I didn’t remember shedding.

He smiled sadly at me.

"I'm sorry," I breathed- the words slipping out before I even realized I was speaking.
"I'm so sorry. I'm-"

The rest caught in my throat, thick and burning.

"This is my fault," I choked out, the words small and broken in the too-bright room.
"All of it. I'm sorry."

He didn’t know what I was apologizing for- the weight I carried, the blood on my hands- but he nodded anyway, smiling softly with the same quiet kindness he'd shown me since I was a little girl. Because that’s the man he was, sympathetic and kind even when he didn’t know what lay under the surface. And now he was punished for the cruel world he lived in. He was punished for being nothing but good.

His fingers brushed weakly against mine, barely more than a twitch- but it was enough. Enough to keep me from falling apart completely.

"It's not your fault," he murmured, his voice rough with exhaustion. "You don’t have to carry this, Aria."

He smiled- small, exhausted, but real- the kind of smile that meant everything when it was given freely.

"You’re a good girl," he said, as if that was all that needed to be said.

As if that was the answer to every terrible thing I hadn’t told him.

And somehow, it broke my heart worse than anything else.

My bottom lip trembled, and I bit down hard, forcing back the fresh wave of tears clawing up my throat.
I couldn't fall apart again- not here, not in front of him.

I opened my mouth to speak-
and caught movement out of the corner of my eye.

A figure.

I froze, breath catching halfway out.

For a second, I thought my mind was playing tricks- like my exhaustion had conjured a figure from the shadows. But no- he was real, sitting just far enough into the room to see everything.

The longer I stared, the more it unsettled me, like it had been sitting there all along and I had only just noticed.

A man.

Or something that barely looked like one.

He crumpled into a chair, knees tucked tight against his chest, barefoot, thin frame folding in on itself like he was trying to disappear. Black, stringy hair fell across his face in uneven strands, shadowing his eyes- wide, dark, unblinking.

For a second, the thought crossed my mind- absurd and terrifying… he looked more like a Shinigami than a person.

Pale as wax.

Still.

He was staring at me- not at the room, not at Soichiro… Straight at me , like he already knew everything I was trying not to say.

I stared back, my mouth clamping shut like it was wired in place.

Just as I opened my mouth again- maybe to ask who the hell he was- the door behind me clicked open.

I flinched, turning my head.

A nurse stood there, clipboard tucked against her chest, her smile strained and professional.

"I’m sorry," she said gently, "but visiting hours are over. Only immediate family members are allowed inside now."

For a second, I just stood there, rooted to the floor, wanting to argue, wanting to stay- but the weight in my chest made it hard to breathe, let alone speak.

I nodded instead.

Small.

Stupid.

I turned back to Soichiro, whispering a quiet goodbye under my breath, my fingers brushing gently against his hand.

Then I pulled away, leaving a part of myself tangled up in the machines and wires with him.

Light, Sayu, and Sachiko slid past me in the doorway, filling the room with the low murmur of their voices.

I didn’t look at them.
I couldn’t.

For as long as I could remember, Soichiro had been a steady force in my life- a constant. Now, seeing him like this, that sense of safety felt as fragile as glass.

The wiry man, the one who looked half dead and half something else entirely- drifted after me into the waiting room.

We stared at each other for a heartbeat.

No words.

No introductions.

Just a long, heavy silence that pressed down on my spine like a hand.

He didn’t blink. Neither did I.

I dropped my gaze to my phone.

My fingers moved on their own, typing a single message to Dove:

I'm out. I'll be back soon. Soichiro's ok.

Chapter 11: Strangers Don't Stare Like That

Summary:

In a hospital buzzing with grief, Aria meets someone she was never meant to see again. He speaks in riddles, watches like he’s peeling her apart, and somehow knows more than he should.
She walks out shaken.
But the worst part?
He wasn’t wrong.

The waiting room buzzed with fluorescent lights, humming low against the back of my skull. I sat slumped in one of the cheap plastic chairs, hands limp in my lap, head pounding with every heartbeat. The world felt thin, stretched too tight, like one wrong breath might rip it open.

As my fingers twiddled with my phone, texting Dove update after update- I really thought about where I was.

If I owned a hospital… My brain started, quiet judgement seeping into my thoughts. I wouldn’t give out these half-assed painful seats to grieving families. Just seems kind of cruel.

I grimaced as I tried to reposition myself, eyes still glued to my phone like it would vanish if I looked away.

I’m just waiting for everyone to come back out. Sachiko’s giving me a ride home.

I stared at the message for a second before sending it, the blue bubble floating up like a lie.

Blip!

Dove responded:
Was Light weird?

My eyes wandered, searching for anything to ground myself with- until they snagged on a figure a few chairs down.

That guy. That man from before. The one who’d been at Soichiro’s bedside.

He was the one from the To-Oh ceremony.

My stomach twisted, cold and fast.

What the hell was he doing here?

A prickle crawled up the back of my neck.

I curled my lip, dragging my gaze back down to my phone, pretending he wasn’t there, pretending I hadn’t seen him at all.

I wished ignoring him would work.

It didn’t.

He’d already caught my eye- locked onto it, like a dog with a bone, and he wasn’t letting go that easily.

"You seem upset," he said, thumb resting thoughtfully against his bottom lip, eyes steady on mine.

Way to state the obvious.

I let out a breath through my nose, shot him a faint, withering look, and turned back to my phone.

"Yeah," I muttered. "Wonder why."

There was a brief pause, then- he broke it.

"Most people don’t apologize for things they didn’t cause," he said, tone flat. "Especially when there’s no blood relation to justify the guilt."

My whole body tensed.

I stared at him, eyebrows pulling tight, but he just watched me calmly, as if he hadn’t said anything out of line at all. My hands curled into fists before I even realized it. Irritation flared into anger, sharp and sudden.

I sat up straighter, planting my elbows on my knees.

"And what the hell do you want?" I snapped. "I saw you before. At To-Oh. Why are you here?"

He didn’t falter- didn’t show any signs of weakness or startle. He simply sat, knees still tucked into his chest, face blank as a board. 

"I don't intend to be rude," he said, absently picking at his thumb. "I'm simply pointing out what is obvious."

Aside from that one day at To-Oh, I’d never seen this guy before.

Not at Light’s matches, not with Sayu, not around Soichiro.

He didn’t belong here.

There was something off about him- something I couldn’t quite place.

"-And what’s so obvious? That you hover around grieving and sick families like some kind of sick masochist?"

"Childish insults," he murmured, more to himself than to me. "Fairly common for someone in that developmental stage."

I frowned. "You want to sit here and assume everything about my life? Okay, I’ll do the same to you." I folded my arms, leaning in closer like I was observing him right back. "You’re rich, probably. Sheltered. No one who’s had to survive outside would do weird crap like sit like that and mutter shit under their breath."

Something suddenly shifted in his expression, a sudden interest. 

I didn’t stop.

"You also don’t have many friends. Or at least real ones. Real friends wouldn’t let you go out barefoot like that." I added, my gaze dropping to the feet perched up on the edge of his chair. "Oh, and you’re really fucked up in the head- like, something really traumatized you enough for you to seek out pain and suffering like this."

I leaned back a bit, feeling a smug smirk play at the ends of my mouth. "Now, how does that feel? Not so nice when the shoe’s on the other foot, huh?"

He didn’t look offended.

He didn’t even blink.

Instead, he tilted his head slightly, studying me like I was a particularly interesting insect under glass.

"...You are perceptive," he said after a pause, like he was genuinely thinking about it. His voice stayed low, almost approving. "Your anger dulls your accuracy, but your instincts are... noteworthy."

He dropped his thumb from his lip, placing his hands flat against the edge of his chair in that strange, hunched posture of his.

"You remind me of someone," he added after a moment, almost absently. "Someone who also thought emotion was a strength."

His dark eyes glinted faintly, unreadable. "They were wrong. But only slightly."

I felt something coil in my stomach, churning it in the wrong way. In a way that made me feel nauseous. Anger? Contempt? Something smug and hot and almost stupid- but I crushed it down before it could breathe. He was just trying to get under my skin, just trying to poke and prod at something he knew nothing about.

Compliments were never free. Especially not from people like him. If you could even call it a compliment.

I took a shallow breath, shooting him a look. “You never answered me. What’s your name?”

"Ryuga Hideki," he said, scratching lazily at the side of his hand. "But names are just noise. They tell you very little about the person wearing them."

Like the actor? My frown faded at the edges, a smirk threatening my features. The hell? How did I not notice that before?

His index finger tapped absent-mindedly against his knee, calm and slow. My eyes trailed down, cocking an eyebrow. “You play with your hands a lot.”

“It helps me think.” He responded blankly. 

I glared at him, unimpressed. “You must think a lot.”

“I do,” he said, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. He tilted his head slightly, studying me. “Do you?”

I frowned. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Some people think only when they’re forced to. When something breaks.” He paused, tapping two fingers together like the words themselves were a puzzle. “Others never stop thinking. Even when it hurts them.”

I blinked, caught off guard. My throat went dry. 

For some reason, I couldn’t tell which one he thought I was.

“You talk like- in riddles. Like you’re some fantasy nerd.” I scoffed, masking it.

His dark eyes flickered up to mine, gazing up at me through his lashes. “Were you targeted as a child- by bullies, perhaps?”

What the hell?

Taken aback, I stuffed my hands in my pockets, trying to not lose my temper in a hospital ward. “What gives you that idea?”

“You come up with insults pretty quickly, like second nature-” He started, “-Like they were said to you.”

I stiffened, the hairs on my arms rising.

He was just some weirdo. 

Just some weirdo.

And yet, something about the way he said it- like he knew - made my muscles tense.

I forced a laugh, dry and sharp. "You think you can read me like a damn pamphlet, huh?"

He shrugged, his posture loose and lazy, but there was something keen behind his heavy-lidded stare. "No," he said plainly. "Pamphlets are informative. People are contradictory."

I stared at him, heart thudding, every instinct telling me to bolt, to shut up, to stop letting him peel me apart like this.

"You don't have to confirm it," he added, voice soft, almost bored. "I already know."

The worst part was-
He did .

I hated that. I hated it so much I could barely stay sitting still.

"You don't know anything about me," I bit out.

"I know you’re angry," he said simply. "And afraid. Both are useful if you can control them. Dangerous if you can’t."

He shifted slightly, a faint creak from the cheap chair under his weight.

Just as I opened my mouth to fire back-

The door creaked open.

Sachiko stepped through, purse slung over her shoulder, a tired smile softening her face. It didn’t quite reach her eyes.

"Aria, honey," she said gently. "You ready to go?"

For a second, I could only nod, words catching somewhere between my throat and my ribs. Behind her, the rest of the family trickled out, Sayu clinging to her mother’s sleeve, Light drifting behind them like a shadow. They paused at the door, murmuring quiet goodbyes to Soichiro that barely floated through the hall.

I turned to follow, feet dragging against the cold tile.

And just as I was stepping into the long, fluorescent hallway toward the elevators-
his voice caught me.

"I hope we meet again," Ryuga said, voice soft and even. His thumb brushed idly against his lip, as though he was only half-present.

"Aria, was it?" He tilted his head slightly, dark eyes studying me like I was a puzzle he hadn't finished yet.

"Your reactions are...unusual. Not unpleasant." he murmured, not smiling, but sounding almost pleased , in that faint, clinical way a scientist might talk to a specimen that survived longer than expected.

I rolled my eyes, shoving my hands deeper into my jacket pockets as I trailed after the Yagamis toward the car. The hospital doors slid shut behind us with a mechanical hiss, cutting off the stale air and fluorescent lights.

The evening was cold, the sky washed out to a dull bruised purple overhead. Gravel crunched under my boots as I kept a few steps behind them, still feeling the lingering weight of that guy’s stare on my back.

Sayu was already chattering about something, her words floating aimlessly through the night air, but I wasn’t listening. I kept glancing over my shoulder, half-expecting to see him there, perched barefoot on a bench or leaning against a lamppost like some kind of half-formed ghost.

I shoved the thought aside and hurried a few paces forward until I was walking beside Sachiko. My voice came out a little more casual than I felt. "Hey... why was that guy here? The one sitting inside?"

Sachiko blinked at me, then tilted her head in polite confusion. "Hmm? Which one, sweetheart?"

"The weird one," I said bluntly. "Barefoot. Looked like he hadn’t slept in a year."

Sayu snorted. "Sounds like half the hospital."

Sachiko gave a soft, distracted laugh, fishing her keys out of her purse. "I'm not sure. Maybe one of Soichiro’s police friends... There are a lot of strange people coming and going at times like this."

I nodded slowly, pretending to let it drop- but the knot in my stomach only pulled tighter.

He wasn’t a police member. He was at the ceremony. A student.

-And strange people don’t usually stare like that.
Strange people don’t talk like they already know something about you.

We piled into the car, Sachiko taking the driver's seat and Light sliding in beside her. I buckled in next to Sayu in the back, feeling that same uneasy crawl under my skin.

Sayu yawned dramatically, stretching out until her head knocked lightly against my shoulder. She didn’t seem bothered anymore.

“Thanks for helping me,” she whispered, smiling sleepily. “I’m such an ugly crier.”

I ruffled her hair, forcing a smile. "You were there for me too. I'm just glad you're feeling better."

As I leaned back against the seat, I caught it-

Light’s eyes. Watching me through the rearview mirror.

Just for a second.
A flicker, like he was trying to measure something.

Not concern.

Not even curiosity.

Just... calculation.

When he noticed me looking, he smiled easily, that same polished, perfect smile he wore like a mask- and turned his gaze casually out the window.

But it was too late.
I had already seen it.

The knot in my stomach twisted even tighter.

We drove through the city in heavy silence.

The streets buzzed with late commuters, headlights streaking past in slow blurs. Neon signs blinked from convenience stores and ramen shops, scattering tired pools of color onto the wet sidewalks.

The sky overhead hung in a washed-out gray- trapped somewhere between night and morning.

Sayu leaned her forehead against the window, half-asleep.

Sachiko tapped the steering wheel lightly to the rhythm of the radio, her smile tight and faraway.

And Light- Light sat forward in the passenger seat, posture easy, gaze fixed straight ahead like he hadn’t even noticed the heaviness in the car.

Maybe he hadn't.

I shifted my weight, trying to focus on the blur of buildings passing by.

Billboards. Crosswalks. Rows of salarymen lit by the glow of vending machines.

It was the same city I always knew.
It was supposed to feel normal.

But it didn’t.

The knot in my stomach stayed right where it was.

✢ ✢ ✢

The week slid by.

Lessons melted into one another, a constant low hum I couldn’t tune out or care about.

Sayu bounced back faster than I thought she would.

Dove kept texting me in bursts: memes, gossip, half-formed jokes that almost made me smile.

The world kept moving.
And I did too.
Mostly.

Chapter 12: We Either Sink, or Steer

Summary:

The second Kira reveals themselves in blood and broadcast. Ukita’s dead. Sakura TV is a war zone.
Dove panics. Aria plans.
Light is slipping into the Task Force, and if they don’t act now, he’ll shape the investigation- and erase them to protect himself.
They can’t hide. Not anymore.
If Light’s already steering the ship, they have to learn how to steer it too.

It was a weekend. Early evening- that slow, heavy part of the day where everything felt a little too quiet.

Still wearing my pajamas, I sat slouched at my desk, the soft spill of sunset blurring blues and oranges across the walls. I’d wasted the day away, no question about it. Most of it was spent half-awake, lying numb in bed.

But it was my turn to use the Death Note- and like it or not, the work still had to be done.

I hunched over the notebook, pen in one hand and the other one scrolling through American school message boards. I had to spread out the locations of my kills. I saw what happened when Light focused his stunt only in Japan. No good things came from following in Light’s cocky footsteps.

I had almost forgotten the first time- the jolt of adrenaline, the twisted surge of satisfaction when I scrawled that criminal’s name onto the page. The sharp, blinding rush of doing something that mattered.

Now, it felt... ordinary. Routine.

Most days, it barely registered that writing a name meant someone out there was actually dying- not just some word scribbled in an old notebook.

But that wasn’t entirely true.

The nightmares still came, every night without fail.

And Myru, with her restless lace and hollow stare, floated close enough to remind me:

Normal girls didn’t carry death in their pockets.

My stomach gnawed at itself, a slow, sour burn I couldn’t ignore even if I wanted to. I didn’t crave food- not really, but the ache still clawed up my ribs when I went too long without it.

Dragging my feet across the floorboards, I made my way to the stairs, one hand skimming the railing for balance.

Halfway down, I spotted her.

My mother.

Slouched at the kitchen table like a storm cloud ready to split open, cigarette smoldering between two sharp fingers.

Typical.

The weight of her mood hit me before she even looked up- a heavy, invisible shove between my shoulders.

Of course she was home. Of course she was pissed.

Some things never changed.

I snagged the battered carton of darts from the table as I passed, plucking the lighter straight from her hand without asking. The flame snapped to life with a quick, angry flick, and I brought it to the cigarette between my lips. My other hand drifted to the cereal box, tipping it lazily into a chipped bowl while the smoke curled up around my face.

"The hell do you think you're doing?" she muttered, voice soaked in that sharp, bitter disdain she always wore like perfume. Her eyes, heavy-lidded and cold, tracked my every movement. "Smoking in the house? At sixteen?"

I stared at her- flat, unimpressed- then dropped my gaze to the cigarette still clutched between her own yellowed fingers.

Without a word, I dragged a slow pull of smoke into my lungs, letting it burn all the way down.

The cereal spilled into the bowl in a dry, clattering rush.

I shook my head once, slow and deliberate, and went on like she hadn't said anything at all.

"Real nice," she muttered, just loud enough to sink under my skin. "Guess all that trauma really turned you into something special, huh? Smoking in my house like you pay the bills."

She laughed under her breath, a brittle, humorless sound.

"Keep it up," she added, shaking her head like she pitied me. "By eighteen, you’ll be packing your bags- and it won't be my fault. I’m not living with some burnout who thinks she's owed the world."

"Yeah, good luck explaining that one," I muttered around a mouthful of cereal. "See how much the Yagamis like you when you kick your own kid to the curb and call her a druggie on the way out."

The spoon clinked against the side of the bowl as I shoved another bite in, barely tasting it.

"Real classy," I added under my breath, not even bothering to look at her.

She didn’t snap back right away like I expected.
Instead, her voice dropped lower, rougher.

"You know I love you, right?" she said, almost like it hurt to admit it.
Her cigarette burned down between her fingers, the ash trembling.

I paused, spoon halfway to my mouth.

The words hit me sideways- not hard enough to knock me over, but enough to make my stomach twist. She always switched up like this, and it always hurt the same amount when she’d go right back to her ‘bad mood days’. 

I wanted to say something- I didn’t truly know what- but was stopped-

-the TV flickered.

A loud crackle of static filled the room, cutting through the silence. Both of us jerked our heads toward it.

The screen went black, then blinding white.
And then there it was:

KIRA

In bold, old English letters. Like a medieval poet had stamped the name on a white paper.

I almost choked on my cereal.

Sakura TV was bottom-of-the-barrel entertainment, the kind of station that thrived on half-baked stunts and sensationalism, always shouting into the void hoping someone would take them seriously. And somehow, the older generations did. Swallowed it whole like gospel.

But something about it felt wrong. The voice- warped and electric through a filter- didn’t sound like Light. It didn’t feel like him. Too excited. Too showy. Like some loser trying on Kira’s skin and loving how it fit. Still... part of me wanted to believe it. Wanted it to be him. That was almost worse.

I wanted to hear him say what he was, even if it wasn’t directly to me .

My mom sank into the couch like she'd forgotten she hated everything. She leaned forward, eyes glued to the screen. I glanced at her, then let my gaze slip back to the TV- cautious, but curious.

“ If this video aired at exactly 5:59 pm on april eighteenth… It is now 5:59 and  thirty-eight…thirty-nine…forty seconds… ”

My brows furrowed.

“ Please switch channels to Taiyo TV. The news anchor, Mr. Kazuhiko Hibima, will die of a heart attack at precisely six pm. ”

My mother flipped the channels like it was nothing. 

Blip . 

Just like that, we were on Taiyo TV.

The man collapsed mid-sentence. The women beside him screamed.

Right at six. Just like the freak said.

My chair screeched as I stood, the legs wobbling for balance before crashing back to the floor. I lunged for my phone, fingers flying as I typed:

Turn on the news. Sakura TV. Now.

The screen blurred in my peripheral, but I didn’t look away. I didn’t breathe. Just stared, phone clenched tight, waiting for Dove to text back- while my mother, entranced with the screen, quietly switched it back to the broadcast.

“ Mr. Hibima has constantly referred to Kira as ‘evil’ in his news reports. This was his punishment. ” The disembodied voice crackled out, “ But one demonstration alone does not serve as absolute proof. I will present you with another. My next target is a commenter who has also condemned me repeatedly. He is scheduled to appear live on air at this time… ”

I stared in disbelief as my mom flipped the channel again. Another dead news reporter. 

I knew Light was cocky. I knew Light had an ego.

My stomach dropped- not in that dramatic, rollercoaster kind of way, but like something had slithered in behind my ribs and started coiling.

This wasn’t Light.

But it was real.

That man was dead. Just like that. Right on cue.

I stood frozen, screen glow washing over me while the air felt thicker than before. My fingers hovered over the phone, stuck somewhere between texting again or throwing it across the room.

Not Light. But still Kira. Still a notebook.

Another one.

That was worse.

Light was predictable, at least somewhat. I could monitor Light. I could anticipate his actions to a degree- but this-

This was a whole new playing field.

“ I trust you now believe that I really am Kira. Please listen to me carefully. I do not want to kill innocent people. ”

My phone chimed.

Dove .

I hesitated.

“ I hate evil and love justice. I do not consider the police my enemies, but my allies in my fight against evil. My aim is to rid the world of evil and create a just society. If all of you will join me in this mission, it can be easily accomplished. ”

My fingers toyed with the charm around my neck as I flicked my eyes between the TV and my phone, nerves buzzing loud in both.

Dude, has Light lost his mind???

I couldn’t think straight. My fingers just typed the only thing I knew for sure:

 That’s not Light.

Dove started blowing up my phone- probably questions, panic, maybe jokes to lighten it- but I wasn’t reading. I couldn’t. My eyes were nailed to the screen, breath stuck somewhere in my throat.

“ If you don’t try and capture me, no innocents will have to die. And even if you do not agree with me, if you refrain from publicizing your views in the media or in public, you will be spared. And then, simply wait. In a short time, the world will be changed for the better. I’m sure you will all agree. I can do it. I can change the world and make it a place inhabited by only good, kind-hearted people. ”

My grip on the phone tightened. I could barely hear my own thoughts over the static humming in my skull.

“ I can do it. I can change the world. ”

The voice echoed like it was pressing a hand to my chest. I needed to breathe. Think. Move.

The next chime from my phone was too loud. Dove again.

I pushed up from the table so fast my chair screeched against the floor.

“I’m going to the bathroom,” I muttered- maybe to my mom, maybe to myself, I didn’t care.

I stumbled down the hall, hand sliding against the wall for balance, like gravity had suddenly tilted sideways. The second I locked the door behind me, I fumbled for the call button and pressed Dove’s name with shaking fingers.

“Pick up. Come on. Come on.”

Eventually, it clicked. Dove yelled from the other end, “Aria?! Was that you? Was that you on TV?!”

“ No !” I hissed through my teeth, clutching the phone tighter to my ear. “Of course it wasn’t! Do you think I’m that stupid?!”

There was a pause- then a gasp through the speakers.

“Oh my god.” Dove’s voice came through the phone barely above a whisper. “They just showed the Sakura TV building. There’s a dead body-just there . On the ground.”

My grip clenched. “Wait- are you watching it right now ?! Is your family there?! Are they hearing you say this?”

Panic clutched my throat. I could already imagine her mom piecing things together from across the room, connecting dots we couldn’t afford to let her see.

“No! They’re upstairs, I swear-” Dove gasped. “Oh my god- Aria . That’s Officer Ukita!”

My stomach dropped.

She was breathing fast, almost hyperventilating on the other end of the call. “He gave me cake once. I was, like, eight? He used to come to the house sometimes. He was friends with my mom.”

She didn’t say the next part, but I felt it. He was nice.

And now he was dead.

Live. On. TV.

“I have to go. I have to go tell my mom. Holy shit- I can’t believe this…” She murmured, voice cracking in places.

I panicked. “You better not say anything. We didn’t do this. Light didn’t do this. There’s someone else out there, Dove. Don’t fucking snitch.”

“I won't! I won't!” She cried, “God, I’ll call you back.”

She hung up.

I took a breath.

I left the bathroom.

I went back downstairs.

I sat on the couch beside my mom.

I lit another cigarette.

She didn’t snap at me. Didn’t tell me to burn it out.

She just… watched the flickering screen.

Quiet, tense.

Like the news had her by the throat too.

The broadcast cut to live footage outside the Sakura TV station- just like Dove said, but it was worse than I’d imagined. Or maybe it had escalated. Either way, it looked like hell.

A police van had rammed straight through the front glass, shards glittering like ice across the pavement. Officers flooded the scene, armor up, shields locked in place like a human barricade. One of the reporters was screaming over the noise, his voice cracking as he tried to narrate chaos.

My eyes narrowed.

Why all this? Why the desperation? Kira needed a face and a name to kill-unless…

Unless they had the eyes.

Myru had mentioned the trade months ago, back when we first touched the notebook. Half your lifespan, in exchange for the ability to see the name and lifespan of any person just by looking at them.

She hadn’t pushed us. Said she didn’t want us dying any sooner than we had to. But she’d laid it out plainly, like everything else.

Dove had agonized over it. I hadn’t.

But whoever this was- whoever was behind this broadcast- they had made the deal.

And they were using it.

“ The police are clearly planning to fight Kira! Their answer is a resounding ‘No’! They are going to fight Kira! ”

I frowned, chewing on my nails.

“ The police are obviously rejecting Kira’s offer to work together! They’re going to go after him! I… Well, let me screw up some courage and say this… ” The reporter paused- afraid- before continuing, “ They’re doing the right thing! This is the right answer! This is how a country under the rule of law ought to respond! ”

A buzz jolted through my phone. I blinked, flipping it open with a snap.

 They’re going to come after us. They’re going to look for more than one Kira. I bet that L guy already suspects.

My stomach twisted. I stared at the message, unmoving, thumb hovering over the keypad. What the hell was I supposed to say to that?

Before I could think of a response, another text appeared beneath it.

 Myru says Light’s already working with the police. With the investigation. He’s not in it officially yet, but he’s involved. 

I read it once.

Then again.

And again.

No. No, that couldn’t be right.

My heart stuttered in my chest- a cold pressure tightening behind my ribs.

What?
How?

It didn’t make sense. How could he be part of the team hunting himself?

How had Light- Light - managed to weasel his way into the one place that could expose him?

And worse... Why didn’t it surprise me?

He had worked for the police force before- solved cases that others couldn’t. He wanted to be a police officer. They knew him. They knew he was ‘trustworthy’.

It was unfortunately too perfect. 

I stood frozen for a moment, phone still clutched in my hand like it had shocked me.

Light was already in. Not officially. But close. Close enough.

And if he was slipping into the Task Force- the one place that could end us- then he wouldn’t just be helping them find Kira.

He’d be shaping the entire investigation.

Guiding it. Steering it away from him. Maybe toward someone else. Maybe toward us.

If we got caught- it was a death sentence.

I felt something rise in my throat, something hot and sick and shaking.

We’re screwed. We’re dead. Our heads on going to be on the news-

No. No- not yet. Not if I acted fast enough.

If Light was already close to the investigation... then we needed to be closer.

We had to know what they knew. What they suspected. What he might say.

Before he had the chance to turn them against us.

Before they knocked on our door.

I texted Dove before I could talk myself out of it.

We need to get in. Somehow. The Kira Investigation. If Light’s there we can’t be on the outside anymore.

Are you crazy?! Dove answered. I could practically hear her voice through her words. We’re gonna die if we’re thrown in there!

I stared at her message, thumbs trembling over the keys.

 Then we better figure out how to survive.

Because it was too late to back out now.

If Light was already inside, steering the ship-

We either sank with it.

Or learned how to steer it, too.

Even the playing field.

Chapter 13: Come In

Summary:

Ukita is dead. Kira has a new face. And Light Yagami is already too close to the investigation. Aria and Dove have one shot to stay alive- by confronting the boy they once trusted, and threatening the god he’s becoming.

It was late when I got to Dove’s house.

The feeling of dread clawed at my back- leaving marks thick enough to make me nauseous.

I let myself in with the usual creak of the front door, not bothering to knock. The hallway light was off, but the TV glow from the living room pulsed against the walls in pale flashes.

Dove’s mom sat hunched on the couch, her face buried in her hands. Shoulders shaking. A tissue crumpled in one fist. The news station was still paused on the Sakura TV coverage- silent now, but screaming in implication.

I froze. Just for a second.

She didn’t look up.

I didn’t say anything. I stepped past her like a ghost.

What could I say? That I knew what had happened? Put my life at risk for a mother grieving her friend?

Of course I couldn’t. It wasn’t my fault. I wasn’t killing innocent people like Light or this… other Kira. I refused. That was the boundary that stood me out from them . I was simply doing what they pretended to.

I slipped up the stairs, unnoticed by her mom. 

As I stepped in Dove’s room- I didn’t really know what to expect, but it wasn’t what I saw. Dove’s room looked like a war zone.

Crumpled tissues overflowed from the trash can like it had given up weeks ago. Soda cans littered the floor in uneven clusters, half of them still fizzing. Takeout bags were piled across the desk chair, stained with grease and scribbled notes. Papers were everywhere- taped to the wall, stacked in the corner, shoved halfway under the bed like they’d tried to escape.

The air smelled like old curry and vanilla body spray.

I stood in the doorway, taking it all in.

My throat tightened, but I didn’t comment.

Myru floated above the bookshelf like it was nothing. Chains coiled lazily around the base of a dusty snow globe, her long, pink frame draped across the top shelf like a vulture. Her glowing eyes blinked slow and lazy, as if this kind of chaos was routine to her.

Maybe it was.

My gaze flicked from the Shinigami to Dove, who was pacing in mismatched socks, her hair frizzed out like she’d run her hands through it a hundred times.

Yeah .

Totally normal night.

“Hey.” She breathed, pausing in place as she turned to greet me. “What the hell are we going to do?”

I dropped to the floor with a heavy sigh, legs folding beneath me as I landed in the mess of Dove’s discarded notebooks. “Pretty sure you were calmer the day we decided to become murderers.”

Dove whipped around so fast her hair nearly hit her in the face. “Yeah, ‘cause back then it was just dumb bullies, nosy cops, and your weirdo crush we were hiding it from- this is, like, a whole new tier of terrifying.” she blurted, pacing across the room again. “Now there’s some new Kira cosplayer on live TV, Light’s probably halfway to the police station in a damn suit, and you wanna just waltz in like, ‘Hey bestie, we know you’re a serial killer?’”  She threw her hands up. “Aria. Be serious. That’s straight up suicide.”

“We’re not just blurting it out.” I kept my voice more even than my thoughts sounded, hands raised. “We’re gonna be careful. Strategic. Not… whatever that is.”

“Okay, then tell me what we’re actually doing,” she said, arms crossed, mascara smudged and breath shallow. “Because right now all I’m hearing is ‘let’s go poke the bear and hope he doesn’t bite if we look cute enough.’”

My lips pursed together. “He can’t just kill us- that's not how he operates. He’s too careful for that- and we’re too close to his real life. It’s risky.”

Dove narrowed her eyes, arms still crossed. “Okay, what the hell is with you? You’re being, like… weirdly calm. And weirdly smart. You’re starting to sound a little too much like him right now.”

I sat up straighter, palms open in front of me like I could physically hold the panic back. “Because I have to be,” I snapped, the words scraping out sharper than I meant. “We’re up against the smartest man in the world and Japan’s golden boy genius- and they both want us dead.”

My voice caught for a second, but I pushed through it. “If I start panicking like you, we’re screwed. One wrong move and it’s over, Dove. We have to be smarter than them. Or at least look like it.”

Dove’s voice dropped to a murmur, quiet and unsure. “Since when did you start thinking like this?”

Something in me faltered- just a beat, like a breath caught sideways.

A flash behind my eyes.

Soichiro, pale and still, strung up in a web of wires that looked more like restraints than medical equipment. The slow, steady beeping of the heart monitor, each sound dragging like it was mourning something I couldn’t name.

And Light… standing there.

Composed.

Like it didn’t even register that his father was barely clinging to life.

No tears. No anger. No fear.

Just calculation behind a smile.

My stomach twisted, the memory folding in on itself like bruised paper.

“Since I saw what happens when you don’t think fast enough.”

Dove didn’t say anything at first. Her arms slowly uncrossed. She sat down on the edge of her bed, quiet, like the weight of everything had finally settled on her shoulders.

The room buzzed with silence- one of those thick, electric kinds, where it felt like the world might snap if anyone moved too loud.

Finally, she let out a slow breath. “Okay,” she said, voice hoarse. “So… what’s the plan?”

I blinked, like I hadn’t expected her to fold so quickly. Like I hadn’t expected to be the one with answers. I stood, brushing my hands down my thighs, pacing a little just to keep the panic from nesting again.

“We can’t just walk in and demand he put us in the task force. He’s smart, yeah, but he’s prideful. If we come in scared, he’ll eat us alive. But if we come in like we already know what we’re doing… like we’re calm, calculated- he might pause.”

Dove tilted her head. “You wanna bluff?”

“Kinda, yeah. We need to think of something- but first, I have a rule.” My eyes narrowed, deep in contemplation. “He’s charming. He’s good with people. Whatever the hell he tells us- we can’t fold. We need to stand our ground.”

“He’s gonna hate that.” Dove winced. “He couldn’t stand when we wouldn’t let him make the rules for the games we’d play as kids.” 

Myru floated down from the ceiling, her chains clinking softly as she tilted her head, interested. “I could,” she said. “If you want him afraid, I can give him something to be afraid of.”

I paused, glancing at the Shinigami- then at Dove.

This was the moment. The point of no return.

“Like what?”

Myru swerved down beside us, looming over our heads tall and pale. “…Threaten his life.”

Dove- caught off guard, had a weary smile on her features. “You’d protect us from him?”

Myru shrugged, slow and drawn out. “You have shown me a greater kindness than anyone in the shinigami realm.”

The words hung in the air like dust in sunlight- soft, weightless, but impossible to ignore. I didn’t know what Myru had gone through in that decaying world of monsters, but I knew what it meant to be invisible. To be used. To be looked at like you were nothing until someone needed something from you. Maybe that’s why we got along- two girls from different worlds, both treated like afterthoughts.

But I wasn’t going to be an afterthought anymore. Not to Light. Not to the Task Force. Not to this game we were playing.

This wasn’t about pride, or revenge, or even justice anymore. It was survival. And if survival meant weaponizing a shinigami… then I’d sharpen the blade myself.

“I don’t want to threaten him, but this is Kira we’re talking to- not Light.” I said. “If it keeps us alive… we might not have a choice.”

The silence that followed was heavy. Not scared anymore- just settled. Like we’d already crossed the line.

“We’ll go slow,” I said. “Careful. We won’t tell him everything. Just enough to see what he does.”

Dove looked up, voice small. “And if he says no?”

I didn’t blink. “Then we’ll force him.”

She didn’t argue after that.

Just let the quiet sit between us.

✢ ✢ ✢

“…Are you sure you wanna do this?” Dove’s tone cracked. 

I sat with phone in hand, staring at Light’s contact like it could burn me. Still, I shook my head yes.

“We have to, or we’re dead.” My hands trembled nervously. “This is it.”

This was it. The last flicker of normalcy before everything snapped.

I wasn’t naïve. I knew the second I stepped into his room, something would shatter, and I’d never get it back.

All the laughter. The easy comfort. The quiet moments where it felt like I belonged in that house just as much as Sayu did- gone.

There’d be no more watching TV on the living room floor like we used to. No more warmth from Sachiko’s cooking, no more second-family safety net. The second I told Light the truth- that I knew who he really was- everything would burn.

He could kill me where I stood. Watch me die, and feel nothing.

Forget everything we ever were.

Was I okay with that?

I had to be.

I had no choice.

My fingers typed out the message before I could stop them, hovering over the send button with a sudden hesitation.

I have something to say. Just for you. I don’t want to text it.

I knew exactly what I was doing and I knew it would work.

That didn’t make it any easier.

My thumb hovered over the screen long after I hit send, my breath caught somewhere between my ribs. Dove peered intensely from over my shoulder.

The silence that followed felt like a noose.

Minutes felt like hours. My palms itched with sweat. I hated how much I wanted him to answer.

When the buzz finally hit- sharp and sudden- I nearly dropped the phone.

My stomach twisted, lungs locking like they didn’t know how to breathe anymore.

Only me? Should I be flattered or concerned?

I nearly threw up my dinner.

Dove swung her arm around my neck, pointing at my device. “Answer! Dude , I’m shaking so bad right now.”

I didn’t answer him right away. I just stared at the message, the words pulsing in my brain like they had teeth.

He knew. He knew something was coming, even if he didn’t know what. And that was bad. That was so, so bad.

Dove practically wrestled the phone out of my hands. “C’mon! What do we say?! Do we go? Do we stall?”

I breathed in through my nose, slow and ragged, and typed:

Can I see you tonight? I need to say it in person.

It only took seconds this time for him to answer, like he was waiting for my response just as much as I was waiting for his.

Alright, I’m home.

I read it once- twice- three times.

Alright, I’m home.

Simple. Easy. Like this wasn’t about to split everything in our lives open. Like this wasn’t going to threaten our very lives.

If this was in some other universe, I would’ve been excited. Now, I just felt this lingering dread hanging off my neck.

Dove leaned over my shoulder again. “Okay. That’s it. We’re going. Oh my god. This is really happening.”

I swallowed hard. My tongue felt like chalk.

“He thinks it’s just me,” I whispered.

Dove’s face dropped. “Wait. Are you gonna tell him I’m coming?”

I stared at the screen. At the glowing message. At the open invitation.

My hands were shaking.

“No.”

The word echoed in the silence between us.

No.

It wasn’t brave. It wasn’t bold. It was inevitable.

Dove didn’t argue. Just nodded, quiet and grim, and stood to grab the hoodie slung over the back of her chair. I stuffed the Death Note into my bag like it was a bomb with the pin halfway out, heart pounding so hard it shook my fingers. 

But I still brought it- just in case. Just in case we needed proof, or whatever Light conjured up.

We didn’t talk much after that.

The stairs creaked under our feet as we crept down, slipping past Dove’s mom still folded over herself on the couch, bathed in flickering news light. She was asleep now- seemingly passed out after crying for so long. The broadcast still paused quietly on that same damn screen in the background, like a reminder of what was waiting for us.

KIRA .

I swallowed the lump in my throat, turning the corner to Dove’s entryway to put my shoes on.

Neither of us looked back as we stepped outside.

By the time we reached the front gate of the Yagami house, my palms were so sweaty I had to wipe them on my jeans twice. Dove kept checking her phone, not reading anything- just staring at the lock screen like it might change.

I turned to her, just before we rang the bell.

“If something happens-”

“We won’t let it,” she said quickly, cutting me off. Her voice was a whisper, but it didn’t shake. “We’ve got the notebook. We’ve got Myru. He can’t touch us.”

But we both knew that wasn’t true.

He could.

The yellow porch light buzzed above us, casting long shadows down the steps as I raised my hand and rang the bell.

A pause.

Then footsteps. Light ones.

Click.

The door opened.

And there he was.

Light Yagami .

Backlit by the warm glow of the hallway behind him, in a soft sweater like this was just a normal evening and not the moment everything would come undone.

His gaze locked on mine first, then slid past me- and faltered just slightly when it landed on Dove.

He smiled. Slow. Controlled.

But not friendly.

“Aria,” he said. His voice was smooth. Neutral. But there was something behind it now- some tilt to the way he stood in the doorway, like he already knew. “I thought you wanted to talk… alone.”

The way his eyes lingered on Dove made the hairs on my arms lift.

I swallowed, forcing a steady breath.

“I changed my mind.”

Light stepped aside with the grace of someone who knew exactly how the night would end.

“Come in.”

And we did.

Chapter 14: Negotiations with God

Summary:

Aria and Dove finally confront Light with the truth: they know he's Kira, and they’re not backing down. But Light plays his own game- and agreeing to let them in might come with strings they can’t cut.

Light’s room used to smell like printer paper and old spice deodorant- a distinct smell I always remembered from my times inside. Now it smelled like nothing. Not clean. Not dirty. Just... empty. Like even the air was being careful not to disturb anything. The blinds were drawn. The floor was too polished. His desk was bare except for a pen that sat too perfectly parallel to the edge, like it had been placed there by a machine. A reminder of what I found there half a year ago. In that damn pile of papers.

Every corner was wrong. I felt it in the back of my neck, that primal itch that says you shouldn't be here . Dove lingered behind me, arms folded tight like she was holding herself together. My own hands were shaking, but I shoved them into my jacket pockets and kept walking. If Light noticed, he didn’t comment. He just closed the door behind us with a soft, final click- and didn’t say a word. The quiet felt rigged. Like a wire we’d just tripped.

“So… You two wanted to talk about something?” He crossed one leg over the other, fingers laced loosely in his lap. Casual. Relaxed. Way too deliberate. “Gotta say, I wasn’t expecting a surprise visit. Feels like middle school again- when you used to steal Sayu’s hair clips and blame it on me.”

A soft laugh, too smooth to be real.

I wasn’t in the mood to reminisce with him. I’d done that enough in my head already.

I sat down on the edge of his bed, the blue sheets still tucked with surgical precision. Dove stayed near the door, tense and quiet. I gave her a small nod. She hesitated, then reached back and turned the lock with a soft click.

I lowered my voice. “You’ll want that shut for what I’m about to say.”

Light didn’t move at first. Just watched me for a moment, like he was deciding whether to laugh or not. Then he gave a small smile- measured, polite, too smooth to be real.

“Sounds serious,” he said, voice still airy. “Should I be nervous, or is this another one of Sayu’s weird dares?”

I raised my eyebrows at him darkly. My fingers pinched on my thighs through my sweater- an attempt to ground myself to no avail. I was nervous- so nervous I wanted to jump from his balcony and run away to another country- but I needed to keep my composure. The slightest hint of fear could be his opening, and I wouldn’t allow him that chance.

I had to play the same game he was playing… So I smiled.

“The Task Force,” I said, matching his tone, maybe even quieter. “The one you’re working with?”

I let it hang for a second.

“We want to join you.”

Light blinked once, like he wasn’t sure he’d heard me right.

Then he let out a soft, breathy chuckle.

“You want to join the Task Force?” he repeated, almost like he was humoring a child.

“Aria… that’s not exactly something I can sign people up for.” He shrugged, unfazed. “I’m not even an official member, I’m just assisting- like I have with my dad’s other cases.”

He leaned back a little, like the weight of the conversation didn’t touch him.

“Honestly, you sound just like you used to. Like you want to tag along and be our little helper again.”

A small, practiced smile.

“Some things don’t change.”

I let out a short, fake laugh, like we were just reminiscing, like this wasn’t the most dangerous conversation I’d ever had.

“You make it sound like I was a kid. We weren’t. You know that.”

I glanced sideways at Dove, then leaned in, resting my elbows on my knees, voice dropping just enough. “But I’m not the same either. I’ve been paying attention. Patterns. Timing. The kind of people he targets. The way he talks- if you can call it that.”

My eyes locked on his. The smile on my lips didn’t quite reach my eyes. 

“I know how Kira kills.”

Something flickered behind his eyes- brief, but there. I caught it.

But by the time I could name it, it was gone. He tilted his head slightly, eyebrows raised in polite interest.

“Is that so?” he said, tone easy. “Why don’t you tell me, then… How does Kira kill?”

“The notebook,” Dove said suddenly- too loud for the silence we’d built.

She stepped away from the door like it had stopped protecting her, crossing the room in quick, uneven strides before sinking into the spot beside me.

“The one you used to keep in your drawer.”

Her voice was quieter now. Hesitant. But the damage was already done.

I chewed the inside of my cheek, cursing internally at the slip up.

But I could use this. Play the game he did. Gauge his reaction.

Light’s eyes flicked to Dove, but only for a second. His expression didn’t change.

“Notebook?” he repeated, voice light. Curious.

Then he leaned back in his chair, arms crossing slowly- calculated ease.

“You think Kira kills people with a notebook?”

A soft laugh, like the idea amused him. But there was a sharpness to it, just beneath the surface.

“That’s a new one.”

My jaw tightened before I could stop it. The fake laugh, the head tilt, it was all so familiar. So performative.

The next words slipped out harder than I meant.

“Cut the shit.”

I leaned forward, voice low, tight.

“You want me to describe it to you?”

Light didn’t flinch. If anything, his smile grew- just slightly.

“I’m just trying to keep up,” he said mildly, voice still feather-light.

He tapped a finger against his knee, eyes never leaving mine.

“You seem very sure about something. But if you want to walk me through your theory, I’m all ears.”

For fuck’s sake.

A laugh slipped out before I could stop it- sharp and bitter, like it had been clawing its way up my throat the whole time.

God, I hated that I let it show. I wanted to bite the anxiety all back, and slap myself back into place. But the way he kept pretending? It was starting to feel like a joke. A really corny one.

“Alright,” I muttered, exhaling hard. “You asked for it.”

I shook my head and leaned forward, eyes locked on his.

“Page one. Rules.”

“Rule one: ‘The human whose name is written in this note shall die.’”

“Rule two: ‘The note will not take effect unless the writer has the person’s face in their mind while writing his or her name. Therefore, people sharing the same name will not be affected.’”

My voice didn’t shake. I’d stared at those words for weeks. I could see them even now- burned into my memory like ink into skin.

But it wasn’t enough- not yet. I needed to drag it out of hiding. Put it right in front of him.

So I turned my head, slow and deliberate, my eyes finding the blue figure I’d been pretending not to see since the second we walked in.

“Isn’t that right, Ryuk?”

The words dropped like a stone in water, measured, final. I didn’t need his permission to say it. I never had.

Dove’s eyes followed mine. She saw nothing. Heard nothing. I would explain it to her later.

Ryuk didn’t miss a beat.

From his perch near the ceiling, he let out a low, rasping laugh- like this was better than any TV show.

“Heh… knew you looked familiar,” he chuckled, hovering slightly lower now. “You humans always act so brave once you think you’ve got the upper hand. It’s hilarious.”

He laughed again, the sound crackling like bones snapping in the dark.

Light didn’t move for a moment. Not even to blink. His expression stayed carefully neutral- but his eyes?

They sharpened.

Something behind them shifted, fast.

He leaned back in his chair slowly, as if trying not to let the tension in his shoulders show.

“So that’s what this is.”

His voice was quieter now. Smoother.

“You’ve seen him.”

He tapped his fingers against the armrest, one by one.

“You know the rules. Or enough of them.”

A pause. Calculating.

“That’s dangerous information to have, Aria.”

And there it was: not a threat. A warning. Polished and pointed.

Kira came out. For the first time, I got to see him with my own eyes.

No, that was wrong. I’d always seen him. I just didn’t want to admit he was right in front of me, hiding behind a mask like a freshly escaped convict.

“I think we both know this isn’t a normal conversation anymore,” I kept my voice steady, even though my palms were still damp. “You know what I want. And I have a good idea of what you’re trying to protect.”

I tried to meet his eyes like I wasn’t afraid of them. “So maybe there’s a way we don’t have to turn this into something worse.”

“-By that, I mean let us in the Task Force.” I repeated, eyes stuck to him like glue.

Light didn’t answer right away.

He just leaned back- slowly, deliberately- as if every inch was being measured.

The smile that had lived on his face since we walked in… vanished. His expression didn’t twist in anger. It didn’t soften in sympathy.

It just... emptied.

Like someone turning off the lights behind their eyes.

For the first time, I felt like we weren’t talking to Light anymore.

And realizing that made something in my chest pull tight- like I was shrinking, fast.

I didn’t let it show.

But I felt it all the same.

“You want me to bring you into a classified investigation,” he said slowly, like he was trying the words out for himself. “With what you’ve just admitted.”

He let the sentence hang. Didn't raise his voice. Didn't need to. “I think you know how that looks.”

His gaze flicked between me and Dove- measured, cold. “You’ve seen a Shinigami. You’ve read notebook rules. But you haven’t told me how.”

He tilted his head just slightly. “Or why. That makes you a liability.”

“Yeah.” I forced a flat tone, even as my heartbeat clawed at my ribs. “You don’t know why. But I can give you a hint.”

Dove moved without a word- as if we’d rehearsed it.

She slipped a hand into her jacket and pulled out the scrap she always kept close, edges worn soft from too many sleepless nights. She stepped forward and held it out- not quite offering it, not quite threatening- just placing it near the edge of Light’s armrest.

“It’s ours,” she said quietly.

Her eyes didn’t waver.

“Touch it.”

Light didn’t reach for it.

Not at first.

His gaze dropped to the scrap of paper like it was radioactive. Like he could already feel the weight of the names soaked into it.

Then his eyes flicked up- back to Dove. Then to me. Slower this time. Assessing.

“…Yours.”
He said it like he was trying the word out. Like it didn’t quite make sense.

Then he leaned forward just slightly, his voice quiet and perfectly unreadable. “You’ve used it.”

It wasn’t a question.
It was a fact.

He reached out- not rushed, not hesitant, just… deliberate- and touched the edge of the paper between two fingers.

Nothing changed on his face.

But something had changed in the room.

His eyes flashed up, meeting with Myru’s.

He could see her now.

Really see her.

And in that moment, I knew- he finally understood we weren’t pretending.

This wasn’t some game between kids anymore. Not with a Shinigami standing at our backs.

Not with death on the table.

“Ryuk,” he said smoothly, barely turning his head.

“You’ve been watching her this whole time… and didn’t think to mention it? ”

His voice was calm- too calm. Like he was trying not to show how much it bothered him.

Ryuk chuckled, biting into an apple with a crunch. “Didn’t think you’d notice. You’ve been a little… distracted.”

Light’s glare didn’t shake him. He tilted his head toward the corner.

“She’s been around longer than you think.”

The air shifted. A faint metallic drag echoed as Myru stepped into view, her dull ragged dress whispering across the floor. She didn’t look at Light.

“Still hanging around humans?” Ryuk asked, floating a little higher. “Figures. You always liked the broken ones.”

Myru’s voice was quiet, detached. “At least I don’t watch them fall apart for fun.”

Ryuk snorted, grinning. “Oh, come on. The Spine Pit? You cried over some kid that wasn’t even yours. Didn’t get a second added to your lifespan. Thought you were broken or something.”

Myru didn’t blink. “The whole setup is wrong.”

Ryuk’s grin widened. “Still soft.”

He looked back to Light, amused. “She’s not like us. She actually cares. Weird, right?”

Myru’s chains gave a faint rattle, like they were too dry to breathe.

Light’s eyes narrowed slightly- a tell of something darker. If I hadn’t known him for so long, I wouldn’t have picked up on it-

But I did.

“You and I aren’t so different.” His tone cooled down, calm- almost gentle. The mask was back.

“You’ve always cared too much. About people. About fixing things that can’t be fixed,” He tilted his head slightly, voice steady. “You want a better world, Aria. Just like I do.”

“Don’t talk to me like Dove’s not here.” I snapped back, tightening my grip against my arms. “This is a group conversation now.”

I glanced at Dove, half-expecting a nod- but paused.

Her face was lit up like a kid at a fireworks show, wide-eyed and in awe as she stared at Ryuk like he was some kind of rock star.

Right. I’d forgotten. She’d touched the notebook scrap, sure, but she’d never actually seen him. This was her first time.

Of course Light caught it. His brow lifted slightly, then his eyes flicked back to me- casual, unreadable, like he already knew what I was thinking. Like my point was void.

He let the silence drag just long enough to make it feel deliberate.

Then, his voice cut back in- measured, sharp.

“You’re clearly not just here to show off your Shinigami. So say what you want, Aria.”

He leaned back slightly, as if giving me the floor, but I knew better. It was bait.

“You’re asking to be brought into a classified investigation. Give me a reason I shouldn’t treat this as a threat.”

Just like that, we were back to it.

“Because I know you're low on members. If Dove’s mom quit because of the Kira threat- then it wasn’t just her. We can be of use, helpful volunteers if you wanna put it that way.”

The words came out more confident than I felt about the theory- but still, Light’s features didn’t waver.

“So you’ve been watching us.” He responded in the same manner, like this conversation bored him. “Monitoring personnel changes. That’s not something most high schoolers do in their spare time.”

He sat in silence for a brief second. Maybe in thought. Maybe calculating the risk.

“It’s not wrong,” he added when I didn’t follow up, nodding once. “We are short-staffed. But if you think I’d bring you in just because you noticed a resignation, you’re underestimating what this job actually is.”

Then his gaze flicked briefly to Dove, then to Myru.

“And overestimating how safe you’d be inside it.”

I stared, face blank. “Honestly? I don’t care how we get in. That’s not the point.”

I met his eyes, steady.

“I’m not here to argue for permission, Light. I’m here to figure out if you’re going to make yourself a problem.”

Light exhaled through his nose, slowly. His tone was cold again- measured, almost rehearsed.

“You’re under the impression that I can let you in.”

He looked between us, like he was trying to decide how much to bother explaining.

“I don’t have the authority to make that decision. Not yet. Involving two high school students- both in possession of a death note- wouldn’t just be reckless. It would draw unnecessary attention to me, and no one would take you two seriously anyway.”

A pause. His eyes flicked to mine.

“And I’m already under scrutiny.”

He let that sit for a moment, eyes thinning.

I sighed. “I really didn’t want it to come to this, but we’re gonna have to be let in somehow. And you’re going to have to be the one to do it.”

He leaned back again, more dangerous this time. “Is that so? Why’s that?”

“Because Ryuk may not pick sides, but Myru does.”

The words hung thick in the air- tense and loud.

He understood the implication. 

“We’re involved whether you like it or not, so might as well keep us as friends and in your sight,” I continued, refusing to break eye contact. “L obviously likes wild cards if you let you in- what’s two more people?”

Myru hovered at my backside, observing like my guardian angel. Light didn’t blink. He didn’t even move an inch- frozen in his chair like he was contemplating our very existence. 

Finally, when he spoke up- I had half expected him to outright say no. Maybe threaten our lives. Maybe kill us then and there, calling our bluff. His face didn’t show anything I could work off of. He looked almost bored- like this whole thing was a tedious stain on his shirt.

“You talk about being wild cards like that’s a strength.”

His eyes met mine again- blank. Dead- almost.

“But wild cards are unpredictable. Dangerous. And the people in charge of this case don’t keep wild cards. They discard them.”

He let that land before standing, slow and smooth.

“Still…” he added, adjusting his sleeves like the matter barely interested him.

“If I do let you in under the pretense of oversight, of course- don’t mistake it for trust.” His gaze sharpened. “It just means I’d rather keep you somewhere I can see you… than where I can’t.”

Then he turned, back toward his desk- dismissive.

Like the conversation had ended on his terms after all.

That told me all I needed to know about what to look forward to.

He stayed turned away, hand resting on the back of his chair like he hadn’t just been backed into a corner.

“You’ll be presented as independent researchers.”

His voice was even, unbothered.

“College-bound. Curious. Possibly assistants, nothing more. Any further involvement will raise suspicion I don’t intend to attract.”

He glanced over his shoulder, just once.

“Play it smart, and I can keep the others from looking too closely. But the moment either of you make this harder than it needs to be…”

He didn’t finish the sentence.

He didn’t have to.

Dove finally snapped out of her Ryuk-induced trance, bringing her head forcefully down from the clouds. “Make it happen, and we won’t have to repeat this conversation ever again.”

Light turned fully then, finally facing me. His eyes weren’t blank anymore.

They lingered- just a second too long.

Calculating. Angry.

Like he’d just realized I wasn’t going away. That he’d have to account for me now.

I held his stare, jaw tight, even as something cold threaded down my spine.

This wasn’t a win. Not really.

It was a warning. A reluctant compromise.

It was a leash.

And I had no doubt he’d yank it the second we stepped out of line.

Chapter 15: Conference Room B

Summary:

Aria and Dove are summoned to the police station for their first official meeting with L. What follows is less of a conversation and more of a test- of loyalty, guilt, and how far they’re willing to go to protect what they've done.

By the time we got the call, the notebook was already drying on my desk- ink set, names confirmed, deaths long over. We hadn’t heard from Light since that night in his room. No apology. No follow-up. Just silence. Then, three mornings later, a message from someone higher up. Polite. Vague. Telling us where to go and when. Not an invite. A summons. The same office where Light’s dad worked. Where my dad used to work.

I knew the building. I’d been there more times than I wanted to count- but now it felt... off. As Dove and I approached those same glass windows we used to press our faces against as kids, something crawled under my skin.

What if we messed up? What if I did? What if Dove did?

Didn’t matter. Thinking like that would only make it worse. Look guilty, get treated guilty.

I took a breath. Last drag of my cigarette. Crushed it under my boot.

“You know they have security cameras outside the building.” Dove huffed, giving me the side-eye. She hated when I smoked.

“And?”

“And if Soichiro goes over the footage he’ll see you smoking.”

My hand gripped the metal door handle and swung it open. “They don’t check that shit anyway. Not unless something happens.”

The lobby greeted us with high ceilings and scattered plants, all a little too green to be real. The reception desk stretched across the far end of the hall, where an older woman and a younger guy clacked away at their keyboards like nothing out of the ordinary was happening.

I glanced at Dove over my shoulder. Her eyes twitched as she smoothed out her plaid pencil skirt.

Not a good sign.

I bumped her lightly with the back of my hand. No words. Just motion. We kept walking.

I got to the metal counter with a last stride, placing both my hands on the surface for some sort of stability. It hid my nerves. That was good.

“Hi. My name is Aria Mordain,” I said, voice steady as the receptionist looked up from her screen.

“Dove Rosewood,” Dove followed, her tone polite, practiced.

The receptionist was polished- grey two-piece suit, blunt bob, red lipstick that didn’t suit her face.

My gaze drifted to the desk behind her. A bottle of neon-pink nail polish sat open, half-used.

Quiet day, then.

“Ah… Miss Mordain, Miss Rosewood.” She only peered at us from the corner of her eye before continuing to type. “Do you have an appointment or something to report?”

“An appointment.” Dove said casually, taking a long breath out her nose as if she’d expected to be put in handcuffs the second she revealed her name. “At five thirty.”

The woman gave a curt nod and returned to her screen. “Dove and Aria… Dove and Aria… Oh- there you are. You two are listed under Chief Yagami.”

She reached to the side and grabbed a clipboard, the wood clacking sharp as she handed it over. “Sign here, then have a seat. Someone will be down to escort you shortly.”

I took the pen first.
And hesitated.

It was stupid. I wrote my name all the time- tests, homework, even fake sign-ins. But every time without fail there was something about seeing it on paper, in permanent ink, unerasable. It made my chest tighten like I was writing it in that notebook. Like the letters themselves might turn on me.

I swallowed the feeling and scribbled Aria Mordain in rushed cursive, the motion faster than it needed to be. Then I shoved the clipboard toward Dove, not meeting her eyes.

Once she was done, we took a seat on a pair of square benches by the window. I stared out at the glass, watching the first signs of spring creep into the city. There weren’t many trees- just the ones planted with purpose, too neat to be natural. But still, the buds were there. Tiny, stubborn things. Little bursts of life pretending they belonged here. A little sense of the outside in the caging streets of Tokyo.

I had always wanted to live in nature. In a cottage far away from everything. Now it seemed like a distant dream.

I was totally zoned out, eyes locked on the glass and the world beyond it, until a sharp smack to my arm yanked me back.

I jolted, snapping my head toward Dove- expecting some rambling joke or whisper.

Instead, I came face to face with a man in uniform.

Curly hair. Big nose. Sharp eyes that looked like they didn’t miss much.

His nametag read: Aihara .

I blinked.

“You two girls come with me.” He said blankly, gesturing at us with his hand. “We’re going to floor three.”

So we followed him. No questions. No glances. Just the sound of our shoes echoing down the polished hallway.

Past the desk. Through the hallway. Into the elevator. 

The ride up was dead quiet- just the hum of cheap ceiling lights and the low, anxious buzz building in my ears. The kind of silence that makes your heartbeat sound too loud.

Then Dove broke it.

“What do you think they’re going to say to us?”

Her voice was low, but it still felt like a pin dropping.

I turned to answer- but Aihara beat me to it.

“Just answer the questions honestly.”

Cold. Flat. Like concrete hitting skin.

Dove flinched. I shut my mouth.

We didn’t talk after that.

Third floor.

The doors slid open with a ding that felt too bright. Waiting for us was another man- a tad shorter, warmer posture, and a face that looked like it smiled more often than it scowled.

Way less threatening. Way too friendly.

“Hey, you two must be Aria and Dove!” The man beamed the second the elevator doors slid open, practically bouncing on his heels. “The Chief’s mentioned you- uh, I mean, in passing! I’m Taro Matsui. Totally normal, boring guy. Welcome!”

He laughed awkwardly, scratching the back of his neck. “You’re gonna, uh, do great. Probably. Hopefully.”

The way he fumbled over his name didn’t go unnoticed. No one trips over a name they’ve lived with their whole life. I kept that in mind.

Behind him, the other man- Aihara- folded his arms.

“They’re not on the team,” he grumbled, shooting Matsui a glare. “They’re here for questioning. That’s all.”

Matsui’s grin faltered at Aihara’s correction, but he covered it fast- gesturing down the corridor like we were being given a tour of an aquarium, not led to an interrogation.

“Right this way!” he chirped, walking a little too fast ahead of us. “You’re gonna be in Conference Room B.”

The floors up here didn’t squeak like the ones below. They were heavier. Softer. The kind of silence that muffled your footsteps and made every breath feel too loud. Like the building itself didn’t want to draw attention.

As we turned the corner, I caught sight of the door. Just a plain slab of beige with a brushed metal handle. No nameplate. No label. Like it wasn’t meant to be found unless someone wanted you to.

Matsui opened it.

“Here we are.”

Whatever I had expected it wasn’t this. The room was smaller than I thought it’d be- bare walls lined with soundproof padding, stale air that hadn’t moved in hours. One table. Three chairs. Nothing else. The room had no windows, giving a suffocating feeling I didn’t much care for. This was the kind of room meant to strip things away- noise, distraction, comfort. Even time.

Dove hesitated before sitting. I didn’t.

I crossed the room, pulled out the nearest chair, and let the legs screech against the tile. It sounded worse than it should’ve. Meant to. I glanced up at the camera, just once.

And then waited.

Matsui offered a quick, sheepish smile and mouthed good luck before pulling the door shut behind us.

The lock clicked.

Aihara took the third chair without a word. He opened his briefcase, pulled out a laptop, and placed it on the table with quiet precision- like he’d done this a hundred times. Maybe he had. The screen blinked to life.

Dove glanced at me. Smiled softly. Whispered under her breath “We’re gonna do great.”

I smiled in turn. We both didn’t really believe in the words, but we had to.

The laptop screen lit up in a burst of sterile white.

And there it was.

That same ornate L. Old English font, center frame. Just like the broadcast. Just like Lind L. Taylor’s execution.

I didn’t need a name. We both knew who it was.

Then, from the speaker-

A voice. Sharp. Distorted by the grain of technology. No greeting. No warning.

“ State your full names. Then tell me why you’re here. ”

“Dove Rosewood.” She spoke swiftly- a little too quick.

“Aria Mordain.”

Aihara’s eyes watched us. Every movement. Event shift in our demeanor. 

“We came to help with the investigation,” I said, fingers fidgeting with the cross around my neck. Casual. Calm. Not too rehearsed. “We’re family friends of Chief Yagami- but I’m sure you already knew that. Dove’s mom worked the original Kira case back in the day. We’re not idiots. We know how serious this is. We just want to help. However we can.”

“And if we happen to get credits for college or, like, community hours or whatever-” Dove chimed in, her voice sweet but steady, “-that’d be a nice bonus. We’re both planning to go into similar fields, so this would look amazing on a resume.”

A complete lie.

Good .
I glanced at her.

She was getting better at this.

There was a pause after Dove finished. Not long. Just enough to make it uncomfortable.

The kind of pause that said: I heard everything. I’m calculating what it means.

Then the speaker crackled.

“ Experience, ” L repeated, like he was testing it to himself. “ Most teenagers pursue internships or part-time jobs for experience. Not government-level murder investigations. ”

I tensed. Dove sat a little straighter.

Still no real emotion in the voice. No judgment. Just cold logic wrapped in static.

“ You believe yourselves qualified, then? ” 

Another question. Direct. Neutral. But loaded.

I caught the way Aihara’s eyes flicked between us and the laptop. Distrust. Maybe guilt. Definitely stress. He didn’t look angry. Just… worn.

My lips tightened. I wasn’t qualified, Dove much less so. I had to speak better. Had to act the part.

“I know better than to put myself on the same level as anyone here. I’m not trained. I haven’t even graduated high school.” I paused- not for drama, just to breathe. Then I kept going. “But I also know you’re low on people willing to risk everything for this. And no offense… but from the outside, it’s starting to show.”

I felt Dove shift slightly beside me. I didn’t stop.

“I’m not a genius. But I’m not blind. What we can offer isn’t expertise- it’s insight. People like us… we notice things differently. We don’t follow procedure. We don’t second-guess instincts because someone told us not to. That kind of perspective can be useful.”

My fingers grazed the edge of the table, steady. “If nothing else, we’re eyes you haven’t used yet. And in a case like this... I think that matters.”

There was silence.

Then-

“ You seem to speak for yourself and Miss Rosewood’s behalf often. Is that usual for the both of you? ”

Aihara’s gaze flashed sideways at this- not accusatory. Simply watching.

Dove’s posture tensed a little. Like she didn’t know if she or I should speak first.

I couldn’t signal her- not with a camera pointed right at us. So I did the next best thing. Turned my head, slow and deliberate, just enough to make it clear: her turn.

C’mon Dove. My mind raced. You know he’s testing you. Pull through with me on this.

"Well…" Dove started, her voice dipping softer as the words came out. "It’s kinda always been like this. Me and Aria- we grew up together. Same age, same street, same... everything, really."

She laughed under her breath, but it didn’t reach her eyes. "People used to mess with us. A lot. And I- I always wanted to say something, but I never really could. Aria did, though. She was loud about it. Sharp. Said everything I couldn’t get out fast enough."

Her gaze dropped to the floor, voice smaller now. "I guess we just got stuck in that rhythm. I let her talk because she’s better at it. Doesn’t mean I’m scared of her or anything. She just… has more bite than I do when it comes to stuff like this."

A faint crackle of static.

“Mm. So she speaks for you because you trust her to say the things you can’t.”

A pause- long enough to notice.

“ And the people who picked on you… ” His voice doesn't rise or fall. It simply was .

“ Do you think they deserve to die? ”

Dove froze like someone had hit a nerve. Her spine straightened, eyes darting from the tabletop to the speaker above. Her mouth opened just slightly- but no sound came out, like the words had tangled before they reached air.

Beside her, I clenched my jaw until it ached. Shit .

The bully angle was too close. Too specific. We thought we’d been careful- not too many from school, nothing that would scream pattern. But would that be enough to fool him ?

I felt it in my gut. L was circling. Not accusing, not yet. Just watching. Weighing.

I almost stepped in. Almost covered for her.

But then- she spoke.

“I think… I think that people don’t understand how much damage they can do to others. But the victims understand. They don’t forget and I know I sure as hell never will.”

I tapped her knee under the table. Gentle but firm. An attempt to tell her to rein it in .

Something shifted in Dove after that- like a thread snapping. Her eyes stopped darting and locked onto the camera above us, not scared anymore, but sharp. Almost angry.

“But killing someone’s permanent,” she said, quieter now, but with more force. “Getting picked on, being hit, called things… sucks. But people grow out of it. Sometimes. They say sorry. Or you look back and realize how dumb and awful you were as a kid. But killing?” She shook her head, slow. “That’s it. That’s all they’ll ever be. You freeze them in time at their worst moment. No one gets better after that.”

A pause. Static buzzed, then crackled.

“ And you, Miss Mordain? ”

I didn’t hesitate.

“No,” I said flatly. “I don’t think they deserve to die.”

There was a pause. No voice. Just that low hum from the speaker and the soft click of the laptop as Aihara shifted beside us.

Then L spoke again. His tone was the same- unmoved, analytical.

“ Yet someone is killing people like them. ”

Another pause. He let the implication hang, just long enough to get under your skin. Then:

“ One of you answers with conviction. The other hesitates. That kind of imbalance often leads to tension in a partnership… or a misstep. Sometimes, one person speaks a little too much. Sometimes, the other lets them. ”

My eyes narrowed at the screen, tense.

I knew what this was.

I had seen enough movies and cop shows to understand what he was doing. When in a duo, the interrogator always tries to break them apart. See what they confess when separated.

I was going to make sure that didn’t happen.

“It can be a strength.” I said, words drawn out for effect.

Remember that. Remember us.

“If used right. That’s what you’re doing right now. Aihara is watching our physical reactions in person, feeling out our energy. Spotting things that you might not see from a camera. But you’re asking the questions, not him. That’s an imbalance, but it works in your favor. It’s what you and I both use to survive.”

The speaker buzzed, silent for a beat too long.

Then L’s voice returned- measured, quieter than before, but unmistakably focused.

“ Interesting, ” He said.

Another pause. You could almost hear him lean in, even if he wasn’t physically there.

“ That level of awareness is uncommon. Especially in someone your age. ”

The glow of the screen grew louder in the silence.

“ Aria Mordain… if I didn’t know better, I might think you’ve been preparing for this far longer than you’ve admitted. ”

Dove shifted beside me.

“But I wonder, ” L continued, “ what someone like you might be capable of if given enough reason. You say imbalance is a strength. So tell me- what happens when the wrong person holds the weight? ”

The speaker buzzed softly- then clicked off.

No goodbye. No dismissal. Just that final line, still echoing in the cold, windowless room.

Dove’s hand twitched slightly against her lap.

Aihara stood, closed his laptop, and didn’t look at either of us. “You’re free to go.”

We didn’t say anything as we left the room.

No one told us where to go, but we knew the way. Down the hallway. Past the elevators. Back through the lobby.

He didn’t follow us. Didn’t watch us leave.

I don’t remember pushing open the building’s front door. Just the sting of sunlight cutting across my face and the heavy slam of glass behind us.

We were outside.

Finally .

Dove stopped a few paces ahead, hugging her arms. I lit a cigarette with shaking hands.

The first drag hit my lungs like punishment.

Neither of us spoke right away. The world moved around us- cars, wind, a pigeon hopping off a curb- but it all felt too fast. Too loud.

Like we’d been in a vacuum, and the pressure just came back.

I broke it first, voice flat. “Did you mean that?”

Dove raised a brow, dropping her arms. “Mean what?”

I exhaled smoke. Watched it twist in the air. “That this is worse than bullying. That we’re doing the wrong thing.”

Dove pressed her lips together, eyes flicking anywhere but mine. Not nervous. Just somewhere deep in her own head. “No,” she said finally. “That’s just what I figured they wanted to hear. The good, polite answer. Like writing bullshit in a politics class just to pass.”

She turned to look at me, expression unreadable.

“I know it’s the ‘morally correct’ thing to say. But I don’t really care about being morally correct anymore.”

Her voice had lost its usual softness. What was left was colder. Clearer.

“They don’t know what it feels like. What it really does to you. When people treat you like nothing for long enough, something in you snaps. And after that… you stop giving a shit about right and wrong. You start thinking about what’s deserved. ”

Her stare hardened, not at me, but at the sidewalk- like the memory was burned into it.
“I didn’t do anything to deserve getting my head slammed into a sink.”

Chapter 16: Pattern Recognition

Summary:

A broadcast. A false name. A dead officer. Aria and Dove are asked to analyze the Sakura TV incident, but they know it’s not really about analysis. It’s about performance. And this time, the audience is L.

It had been a week and a half since the interrogation, but it still lived under my skin like smoke that wouldn’t clear.

We’d been attending remote briefings since. Daily check-ins, “training exercises,” short interviews where nothing was ever said directly, but everything felt like a test.

We hadn’t seen L. Just Watari’s voice through a modulated speaker, asking polite questions and logging polite answers.

It was very rare that we spoke to L like we did the first time. Watari was his stand-in, sending us emails, meeting arrangements, the like.

We didn’t really know who he was or what purpose he served, but we served his instructions to the best of our ability.

None of it was honest.
Not lies exactly- just… edits.

It was easier to edit. Bend the truth. More believable.

In a sense, I picked that up from Light. But I’d never give him that credit. We were different. I would never delude myself the way he did.

Dove thought we were passing. I wasn’t so sure.

Then one afternoon, it changed.

Watari’s voice came through the unknown number like usual- steady, calm, just slightly too formal. But this time, there was no check-in. No warm-up.

“You’ve been assigned a new task,” he said. “A pattern recognition exercise. Please review the broadcast attached and report your conclusions by the end of the day.”

A file appeared in the secured email.

Sakura TV.

I didn’t need to open it to know what it was.

They wanted to see what we’d say. What we’d pretend not to know.

Luckily, we had an upper hand in a sense. We didn’t attend as many physical meetings like before. Most of what we did was in the comfort of our own home. That gave Dove and I an advantage. We could talk without scrutiny. We could do our tasks directly next to each other without the pressure of being watched.

We could keep our damn stories straight. Write names in the notebook at the same time. A little ironic, all things considered.

I opened the file on my laptop, its cold glow slicing through the low light of my room. Dove lay beside me on the bed, one arm slung over her stomach, the other nervously picking at the blanket. Papers were everywhere- crumpled, bent, stained with highlighter and half-dry pen strokes. Not notes- just scattered thoughts, scribbled questions, and desperate theories pretending to be methodical.

We weren’t detectives.

But we had to look like we were.

This was our shot, our way in.

And if we messed it up, we wouldn’t get another.

“What do they even want us to do? The whole world has seen this shit already.” Dove grumbled, turning over the side and grabbing a bag of candy off the side table. “You don’t really forget the whole spectacle they put on.”

“The thing is-” I sighed, clicking play on the trackpad. “We don’t have to point out anything genius. We’re playing a game only we know the rules to. We just have to point out something that two teenage civilians shouldn’t recognize.”

The false Kira’s voice started echoing the same sentiments we’d remembered. The same theatrics, same words that shook the nation. Same demands from the police. 

“That doesn’t sound like Light. He would never talk like some band kid. I think he’d rather die.” Dove commented.

“Yeah, well. We’re not supposed to know how Kira usually talks.”

“Right.”

The video kept playing. The reporter’s voice shook, faltered- panic bleeding through as the air in the station grew thinner. I watched Officer Ukita sprint into frame, gun drawn, face set in grim resolve. Brave. Stupid. He never even made it through the front door.

He dropped.

No sound. Just the body hitting pavement. A moment that should’ve made me flinch.

But I didn’t feel fear. Not yet. Not guilt, either.

All I felt was the heat of the laptop and Dove breathing next to me, too quiet.

There wasn’t room for anything else. Not now. I could feel all that later.

I leaned in closer, jaw tight, eyes scanning every flicker of the footage- not for answers. For angles. What detail could we highlight? What observation would make L hesitate, just enough to let us in?

We didn’t need to solve it. Just sound like we almost had.

That was the game.

The footage rewound again.

Ukita was mid-stride- gun drawn, charging toward the station like a man already dead.

Dove leaned over my shoulder, squinting at the paused frame. “Wait. Zoom in. Right there- his chest.”

I dragged the scrub bar back a few seconds, then paused again, freezing Ukita in profile. The badge on his uniform glinted in the light, just barely visible.

“Enhance, NPA-style?” I muttered sarcastically to myself, clicking into the resolution settings and leaning in.

The name on the tag wasn’t Ukita.

It read: Yoshida.

I frowned.

“That’s not his real name,” Dove said quickly, sitting up straighter. “Right? It’s an alias. I think my mom said his full name was Hirokazu Ukita.”

“Must be,” I mumbled, eyes locked on it. “Kira killed him anyway.”

Dove went quiet.

I went quiet.

The silence lingered like fog- heavy, unmoving.

My eyes stayed fixed on the name badge. Yoshida.

Not Ukita.

Alias. They probably all had them. That meant the Task Force was following L’s rule from the beginning- Kira needed a name and a face to kill.

But Ukita died anyway.

His real name wasn’t visible. Just his face. And he dropped on the spot.

Did they realize what that meant? That this Kira didn’t need both?

They had to. But they hadn’t said it out loud yet.

Because we weren’t supposed to know.

They probably didn’t expect us to remember the first broadcast either.

I felt something shift in the back of my mind. A click.

Perfect.

“He didn’t say his name,” I said.

Dove looked over, confused. “What?”

I dragged the video back again, slower this time. “The reporter never said his name on air. Not once. And the badge? It’s fake. If that was the only identifier...”

I sat back a little, my heart starting to race in a way that felt too sharp to be fear.

“He was killed anyway.”

Dove’s eyes widened. “So?”

“So that means what we said weeks ago- about the second Kira not needing a name, just a face- it wasn’t speculation.”

I turned toward her fully now, voice low. “It was true. They just didn’t know we knew how to prove it.”

She blinked, then a grin tugged at the edge of her mouth.

And I knew.

We had what we needed.

Now it was just a matter of phrasing it right.

✢ ✢ ✢

From the corner of the room, Myru stirred- long limbs folded against the wall, linked metal draped loose around her shoulders like a shawl made of rust.

“You two look far too smug,” she said lazily, her voice echoing like smoke. “That usually means trouble.”

Dove sat up. “We’re writing a report.”

“Mm. You’re writing a performance.” Myru tilted her head, amused. “The part where you know exactly what happened but act like it’s just a hunch. Very Kira of you.”

I rolled my eyes. “Don’t compare us to him.”

“I didn’t. You did.”

I pulled my laptop closer, fingers hovering over the keyboard. “We just have to say enough to sound dangerous. Not too much. Not too little. Enough that we sound smart but not too much so.”

Myru drifted closer, peering over my shoulder with a faint, unsettling frown. She never smiled. Sometimes I wondered if she was even capable of it. “Then let me help. I’ve been watching you little humans longer than you’ve been alive. I know what makes them twitch.”

“What, you’re gonna ghost write our report to L?” Dove snickered under her breath. “Didn’t think you were much of an author, Myru.”

“If I fail, you may erase what I’ve written.”

I looked at Dove, then at the screen. What did we have to lose?

I slid the laptop toward the edge of the bed.

Myru slithered forward from the shadow near my dresser, the torn whisps dress flowing softly behind her like magic. Her bony hand stretched out, claws catching the light in quiet flicks. She crouched beside the bed, curious as ever, and touched the keyboard like it might bite her.

To anyone else, it would’ve looked like it moved on its own- keys tapping down like a phantom breeze. But we saw her.

She fumbled at first. Awkward. Precise in the wrong ways- pressing with her whole finger when she should’ve tapped with a nail. But she adjusted. Learned. There was something eerie about it, watching something so inhuman try to use something so human.

The screen filled with fragments- half-thoughts and clipped phrases. She moved slowly, deliberately, then paused- tilting her head.

A final tap.

Then she slid the laptop back toward me without a word.

I took it, heart thudding, and read what she’d left behind.

Report – Pattern Recognition Exercise
By Aria Mordain & Dove Rosewood

Broadcast reviewed. Observations as follows:

– Officer enters the scene, uniform badge reads “Yoshida.”
– Not his real name.
– Name never spoken aloud by the reporter.
– He dies anyway.

This suggests either:
A) Kira’s powers have changed.
B) This is a different Kira with a different method.

Based on tone shift and vocal cadence, we lean toward B. The ideology differs dramatically from known traits, including the initial execution of Lind L. Taylor.

We believe that this Kira may only need a face. No name required.

This changes the rules. And whoever’s playing wants you to notice that.

Dove leaned in close beside me, wide-eyed, her breath catching on the edge of a laugh.

“Okay,” she whispered. “That’s actually really good.”

Myru reclined against the wall again, and surely would’ve smirked if she could. “Told you,” she murmured, voice like rusted silk. “I’ve watched your kind lie better than gods. I’ve watched you two interact for longer than we’ve met.”

I stared at the screen. It wasn’t our style. Not entirely. But it was good. Creepy-good.

Myru’s claws clicked faintly as she stretched against the floorboards. “You’ll want to rewrite it, of course. Add your cute little flourishes. Make it sound like it came from inside your skulls.”

I didn’t answer her. I was already editing, fast.

“Keep the structure,” Dove said, watching over my shoulder. “The tone’s weird, but it’s the right kind of weird. It’ll throw them off just enough to take it seriously.”

I nodded once, jaw set, fingers flying.

The final version looked like us again- sharpened edges, fewer metaphors, just the right amount of intuition.

I hit send before I could second-guess it.

Dove watched the screen flash confirmation. Then we waited.

We waited for hours. 

The kind that didn’t pass normally- long and stretched, like time had been slowed. Dove lay sideways across my bed, flicking candy wrappers at the wall. Myru hovered near the window, silent and spider like, tracing circles in the fogged glass with one claw.

I kept re-reading what we’d written. Again and again. Looking for flaws. Weak spots.

Was it clever enough? Subtle enough?
Would L even blink?

Would this- paired with every word we’d bent and twisted for days- be enough to make him let us in?

The laptop screen dimmed from inactivity. I tapped the trackpad. Still nothing.

Outside, the city had gone to sleep. Inside, my heart hadn’t.

Then- just after midnight-
a chime.

A new message.

FROM: UNKNOWN  

SUBJECT: Follow-up

“Your report has been reviewed. Further correspondence required.  

Arrival time: 5:00 PM sharp.  

Location: Hotel Kurono.

That was it. No signature. No reaction. Just instructions.

The screen went dark again.

Neither of us moved.

Myru let out a low, breathless sound- not quite a laugh. More like recognition.

“They saw you,” she murmured. “And now they want a closer look.”

I swallowed hard.

Dove sat up straighter, holding her knees. “Do you think we passed?”

“No,” I said. “I think the real test starts now.”

Dove’s eyes narrowed.

I shut the laptop. The room shrank around the weight of it.

We’d spent weeks learning how to perform.

Tomorrow, we’d find out what happened when the audience clapped back.

And whether we were actors, or bait.

Chapter 17: The First Move

Summary:

It’s just a hotel room. Just tea and carpet and soft lighting. And still, Aria can’t shake the feeling that this is where everything might fall apart.

I hadn’t slept all night. Not much. Maybe an hour here or there, between chain-smoking darts and pacing holes into the floor. I couldn’t eat, couldn’t sit still, couldn’t think in full sentences. My brain kept looping the same questions like static: Was I going to meet L tonight? Would I see his face? Did he already know what Dove and I had been doing?

By noon, I’d gone full ghost- barely touched my food, barely blinked. My stomach twisted so bad it felt like it was punishing me for even considering solid food.

Four o’clock came fast and slow at the same time. I changed into the nicest thing I owned- a white button-up shirt tucked into a grey skirt, tights that were slightly uneven, and boots that felt too heavy for how quiet I wanted to be. I never dressed like this. It didn’t feel like me. That was probably the point.

Dove showed up right on time, her expression unreadable. We ran through the same routine: don’t say too much, but don’t say too little. Just enough to make us sound sharp- like we belonged in the same room as L and the Task Force. Play it up- but not too much. Stay just below suspicion.

Neither of us said much of anything else when the taxi pulled up.

Under any other circumstance, taking a cab to meet a mystery man in a hotel would’ve been sketchy as hell- like something out of a bad horror story or a news headline. But this wasn’t just any guy. It was L. Or someone pretending to be him. Or someone worse.

I tried not to think about it as we slid into the back seat. The door shut with a low thunk.

We sat in silence for the first few minutes, just the hum of the engine and the wet sound of tires on pavement. I kept staring out the window, watching the world blur by like it might hold some kind of answer. It didn’t.

We’re being paranoid, I told myself. He doesn’t know. Not enough. We were careful.

But deep down, I wasn’t sure anymore.

The city buzzed past for about half an hour before we pulled up to the entrance of the hotel lobby. It glowed a soft yellow against the multi-coloured lights outside, a warm contrast to the sick feeling in my chest.

We stepped inside without another thought, my cheek caught between my teeth, biting down hard enough to taste copper. The lobby was sleek- polished floors, muted lighting, the kind of place that made you feel underdressed no matter what you wore.

The receptionist glanced up as we approached, her face polite but distant. Before I could say anything, she handed over a keycard without a word. No request for ID. No questions.

Just a smooth, professional, “Welcome. Enjoy your stay.”

I took the card, blinking down at it like it might burn my fingers. Room 701.

I glanced at Dove. She raised her brows, just as confused as I was. We hadn’t even mentioned our names, hadn’t said who we were meeting. Somehow, they already knew.

Strange .

We didn’t linger. The elevator chimed open at the end of the hall, and we moved toward it without another word. Every step felt heavy, like the air itself was watching.

Room 701. No turning back now.

The elevator doors slid shut, sealing us in with our own tension. Dove fidgeted beside me, fingers tugging at the hem of her sleeves. I shoved my hands into my pockets to keep them from giving me away.

The ride felt endless, numbers crawling by on the panel. I focused on breathing, trying not to think about what waited for us. When the doors finally opened on the seventh floor, we stepped out into the dimly lit hallway. Room 701 loomed at the end, door slightly ajar.

Before I could knock, it swung open. A man stood there- tall, silver-haired, impeccably dressed. He almost looked like a butler.

My lip practically curled in confusion, but I held it together- my face blank.

"Good evening," he greeted. "You must be Miss Mordain and Miss Rosewood."

His calm and polite tone had a hint of monotonousness to it, like he hadn’t lived a human day in his life.

I nodded my head. “Yeah, that’s us.”

The room felt too quiet, like the air itself was holding its breath. Soft yellow lamps glowed from the corners, casting long, muted shadows that stretched over the minimalist decor. A sleek laptop rested on the coffee table, its screen blank, while a pot of tea on the sideboard sent thin curls of steam drifting upward.

The man closed the door behind us, his movements smooth and deliberate. He gestured for us to enter, and I hesitated, drawn to the windows that stretched from floor to ceiling. The city lights outside were vivid, spilling color into the room as if mocking the tense calm.

I swallowed and stepped forward, the thick carpet muffling my footsteps. Dove moved silently beside me, her eyes darting around, trying to take in every detail. The man guided us to the sofa, and I lowered myself onto the pink flowery cushion, which felt too soft and too deep, like it was trying to swallow me whole.

He moved across the room with an effortless grace, picking up the kettle from the sideboard. As he approached, he poured hot water into the delicate china cups in front of us, the steam drifting up like soft ribbons. Then, with the same calm precision, he dropped single bags of black tea into each cup- almost like he was leaning into the butler image on purpose.

We murmured quick thanks, our voices barely above a whisper. The room felt dense, like it was waiting for us to speak first, daring us to break the uneasy silence.

The man set the teapot down gently, his movements deliberate. "Before we proceed, I must ensure that you are not carrying any items that could be deemed dangerous," he said, his tone courteous but firm.

Dove stiffened slightly beside me, and I fought the urge to tense up.

"Please understand," The man continued, his gaze unwavering. "This is a standard precaution for anyone meeting L in person. Your cooperation would be greatly appreciated."

I tried to ignore the page of the notebook burning a hole in my chest- tucked safely away in my bra.

Surely he wouldn’t check that.

I swallowed, giving a small nod. "That’s... fair. What do you need us to do?"

His index pointed to the corner of the room- a metal tray neatly placed on a table like it belonged there. "If you would kindly place any personal belongings- phones, bags, or sharp objects- on the tray provided behind the screen, I will collect them once you are finished. You may keep your essential items, but they will be checked."

 My eyes followed it, pressing my lips together. At least he wasn’t patting us down.

Even if he did, a blank notebook page wouldn’t yield anything.

I stepped up alongside Dove, tipping the contents of my purse onto the tray: a lipstick, a lighter, some tissues, my wallet, and my phone. Dove did the same, her hands moving a little too quickly. Once we’d set everything down, we returned to our seats without a word.

The man gave a slight, polite bow. “Thank you for your cooperation. You may sit. I will inform L that you are prepared.”

His voice was soft but firm, and I couldn’t help noticing the way his eyes seemed to assess me even in that brief moment. Without another word, he moved toward the door, his posture as composed as ever.

As he turned to leave, I couldn’t help myself. “Hey-” I called, just loud enough to make him pause. “You’re Watari, aren’t you?”

He glanced back, his expression mild, almost amused. “Indeed,” he replied, his tone calm and unhurried. “That is correct.”

I’d suspected as much. His voice had a familiar ring to it- smooth, calm, measured. It wasn’t distorted or filtered like L’s usually was with his voice changer, and that alone made it stand out. I couldn’t place where I’d heard it before, but it clicked now that I was seeing him in person.

Before I could think too hard about it, Dove spoke up, her tone somewhere between curious and nervous.

“Are you... L’s dad or something?”

I shot her a look, but Watari didn’t seem phased. He paused for just a moment, as if weighing how to answer, then gave a slight, almost amused smile.

“No,” he replied gently. “My role is that of an assistant. Nothing more.”

He left after that, like he’d never been there in the first place. My hands were folded neatly in my lap as I stared down at my teacup, a bowl of white sugarcubes placed in the middle of the glass table like a centerpiece. I debated putting them into my drink, but stopped myself.

I didn’t feel in the mood to have much of anything in my stomach.

We sat in silence, the kind that felt too long to breathe easily through. Watari had been gone longer than expected, and the longer the quiet stretched on, the more I felt like I was sinking into it. I kept telling myself to stay calm, but my thoughts kept looping like static. Was this another test? Was L watching us right now, waiting for us to slip up?

My eyes started to dart around the room, scanning the corners, the laptop on the coffee table, even the lamp in the corner. Nothing obvious- no blinking red lights, no cameras that I could see- but that didn’t mean they weren’t there.

Dove caught the way my gaze kept flickering from one spot to another. She shifted closer, her voice barely above a whisper. “Are they... watching us?”

I didn’t answer right away, just kept my focus on the sideboard, wondering if there was a lens hidden in one of those ceiling carvings. “I don’t know...” I mumbled, trying to sound casual, but my heartbeat thudded louder in my ears.

I couldn’t just get up and check- that would look paranoid as hell if someone was watching. I forced myself to sit back, pressing my hands into my lap to keep them from fidgeting. Dove glanced at me, biting her lip, probably trying to mirror my calm, but I could see her fingers twitching against her knee.

I took a slow breath, trying to level my thoughts. “If they are, we’re not giving them much of a show,” I muttered, half to myself.

Dove shot me a sideways glance, trying to force a grin. “Maybe they’re just messing with us. L probably has bets on how long it takes us to crack.”

I almost laughed, but it came out more like a breath I’d been holding too long. “If that’s the case, I’m not giving him the satisfaction.”

Dove whispered, barely audible, “Do you think he’s already testing us?”

I couldn’t help but glance at the laptop one more time, almost daring it to flicker to life. But it didn’t- just sat there, blank and untouched, mocking me with its silence.

“Like I said, I’m not sure.”

“Sooo… What do you think he looks like?” Dove asked, a small smirk daring to play on her features. “Do you think he’s gonna be cool?”

“He’s probably gonna be some old guy,” I responded, thoughts snapping away from the camera search. In my mind, the image came together- wrinkles etched deep into his face, a shabby trench coat hanging off his shoulders, and a comb-over barely clinging to his scalp. The picture was ridiculous, like something straight out of a cheesy detective show.

I almost snorted at the thought. It didn’t fit the reality of what I knew about L- sharp, elusive, always a few steps ahead. But still, the mental image stuck, and I couldn’t help but picture him squinting at a magnifying glass like some cartoon gumshoe.

Dove caught the hint of a smile on my face and raised an eyebrow. “What’s so funny?”

I shook my head, brushing it off. “Nothing. Just... imagining L in a trench coat. Doesn’t really fit, does it?”

Dove gave a small, nervous laugh. “Yeah... kinda feels wrong. Like picturing Soichiro as a cartoon cop.”

The absurdity almost made me relax. Almost.

Then- my phone lit up. Bright, bluelight against the warm tones of the hotel room. I couldn’t see it too well from the distance, but as I squinted my eyes the notification sender’s name cleared out.

Light

I paused. He was never a texter- he rarely even texted his own mother. What the hell was he texting me for?

Dove’s eyes followed mine. “Oh… what the hell does he want?”

My nerves ramped up.

My phone sat on the tray like a loaded gun, just out of reach. The screen flickered again- Light’s name, bright and sharp against the muted room. If I grabbed it now, would it look suspicious? Would L think I was hiding something?

But what if it’s important? Light never texts. Not me. Not even his family. Was it a warning? A trap?

My fingers twitched against my knee, aching to reach for it. No. Stay still. 

Wait . Light’s under suspicion too. He’s working with L and the Task Force. This could be a setup- a test to see how I’d react under pressure. Would I seem too eager? Too hesitant?

But what if it’s not a test? What if something’s happened? Something I need to know before I walk into this?

No. I couldn’t risk it. Not here, not now. If I broke the silence to grab it, it’d look too obvious. L would see right through it.

I bit the inside of my cheek, forcing myself to breathe. Stay still. Act natural. Don’t give anything away. I couldn’t let one text- one tiny ping- unravel me.

But my fingers still twitched against my legs, like they were aching to reach for it. I couldn’t help it. I was stuck between needing to know and being terrified of what knowing might mean.

I clenched my hands tighter, fingertips digging into my palms. The air felt too thick, like the steam from the tea was choking the room. My phone stayed silent, but I swore I could feel it pulsing with unspoken threats.

My gaze flicked to Dove, hoping to see some of my own fear mirrored back. Instead, she was biting her lip, trying to sit still. I let out a slow breath, barely moving, as if any sudden motion would break the fragile calm.

Would L even care that I checked it? Or was that exactly what he was hoping for?

I couldn’t decide. The silence pressed in, and I couldn’t tell if the phone held threats or answers.

My fingers twitched again- betraying me- as the room held itself, waiting.

Then, without warning, the door swung open.

I jerked upright, my hand instinctively moving toward my pockets as if to cover something. Watari walked in with the same effortless calm as before, carrying a tray with fresh cups. His expression didn’t change- like he hadn’t just caught us in the middle of our own private crisis.

“Apologies for the delay,” he said, setting the tray down with precise, practiced movements. “L will be meeting with you both shortly.”

If he noticed that not a sip had been taken from either of our cups, he didn’t mention anything. Instead, he stood behind the empty sofa chair, one hand resting gently against the backboard.

Now that it was right in front of me, I debated whether this was a good idea in the first place or not. Was I even ready for this? I wasn’t a super genius like Light, I couldn’t just mask away every feeling I had and infiltrate the one place I was most wanted.

Back when we were kids, Light always had that way of looking at me- like he could see every thought I didn’t want to say. I’d never been good at hiding what I felt. Now, I had to be.

What the hell was I doing?

I couldn’t let him see fear. If I was going to survive this, I had to act like I belonged here- like I wasn’t just another suspect waiting to crack.

Just as my doubts started to creep up over my back, the door clicked again.

 A shadow stretched long across the carpet, spilling into the room like spilled ink. I couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe- just watched that silhouette take form, hunched and unnatural, framed by the hallway light. My pulse roared in my ears, too loud. 

The silhouette moved, slow and deliberate, like it had all the time in the world to decide whether to step into the light or stay hidden. My pulse pounded harder. L wasn’t just entering the room- he was making a point.

This was it.

Chapter 18: Unpredictability

Summary:

Aria expected anyone but him. The man from the hospital. The one who stared.
L reveals himself, and nothing about the meeting feels safe. Words are weighed like weapons. Questions are traps. And by the end of it, Aria’s not sure if they passed a test- or walked straight into one.

The door creaked open, and I expected anyone but him . My pulse froze mid-thump, locking me in place as he stepped into the room- barefoot, hunched, thumb pressed to his lip. That face. That weird, eerie face from the hospital. The same guy who just sat there, watching me like I was some animal that wandered too close. My brain scrambled for an explanation, but it wouldn’t stick. 

That’s L ?

My thoughts crashed over each other, loud and panicked. He wasn’t supposed to matter- just some creep who stared. But now he was looking at me like he already knew everything. Like he was dissecting me.

My mouth dried up. My hands turned clammy. Had he sought me out in the waiting room on purpose?

I clenched my fists to my sides, eyes narrowed, biting my tongue to stop myself from saying something arrest-worthy.

To add fuel to the fire, Dove leaned close to my shoulder, maintaining her eye contact with this supposed ‘L’. “Wait… isn’t that the same guy that tied with Light at To-Oh?”

“Yeah.” I swallowed the lump stuck in my throat. “The one from the hospital, too.”

“The one you yelled at? That creep is L?”

I clenched my jaw, forcing the word out like it burned. “Apparently.”

Light was there both times, even shook his hand at the ceremony. He had to know. There was no way he didn’t. Was this some twisted power trip? Did Light know how desperate we were to meet L and just… dangle him right in front of us without saying a word?

Ryuga- or L- had that same recognizable posture: hunched shoulders, one hand in his pocket, the other pressing his thumb to his lip. He wore the same outfit as the last two times I’d seen him. I wondered briefly if he ever changed.

His black eyes switched from Dove and I with a detached curiosity, slightly intrigued but not enough that we took up all of his attention.

His gaze landed on me, lingering just long enough for a faint, almost amused smile to twitch at the corner of his mouth.

“You seem surprised.”

I fought the urge to spit.

Trying to keep my voice steady, I attempted a response. “You didn’t exactly introduce yourself honestly last time.”

L didn’t blink. His eyes traced my face, lips still half-curled in that almost-smile. "If I had introduced myself properly, it would have influenced your behavior. It’s more useful to observe people when they aren’t aware they’re being watched, wouldn’t you agree, Miss Mordain?"

A half laugh left my lips, almost in disbelief. “Oh I knew I was being watched. You made that pretty damn clear.”

I hadn’t meant to sound so sharp, but the words slipped out anyway. L’s lips curled into a faint, mocking smirk, and I knew right then I’d screwed up- just enough for him to look closer.

I snuck a glance at Dove, noting the desperate look she shot me.

“Look, I’m not trying to be rude or disrespectful. I’m sorry.” I turned back to L, forcing myself to exhale the tension. “It’s just... you gave off a weird vibe- especially since I didn’t know you knew Light or Soichiro. It felt like some random stranger was judging how I reacted.”

L tilted his head slightly, eyes fixed on me. “If you hadn’t known who I was, would you still have apologized?”

The room fell silent. L’s stare stayed locked on me, unblinking- like he was surveying every twitch of my face.

I hadn’t wanted it to come to this- locked in a standoff with L- but part of me had always known it was inevitable. Should I be honest, or would that sound defensive? Would a lie be worse?

Before I could say something- anything- Dove beat me to it, flashing a quick, nervous smile.

“So... is this the part where you tell us you’re just a stand-in? ‘Cause honestly, you’re really nailing that whole creepy, dead-eyed stare. Feels like another Lind L. Taylor trick or something.”

I whipped my head toward Dove, eyes wide, mouth hanging open- half bewildered, half shocked.

I had expected L to share a similar reaction- but he didn’t. He kept his gaze locked and loaded on mine, expression unwavering.

“Funny.” He answered simply, not breaking his gaze. “You’re observant. I’m not going to fault your deduction, but I can assure you that I’m the real thing.”

“Either way,” He continued, humming against his finger. “Human behavior often changes when one is aware they’re being monitored. You’ve demonstrated that, Miss Mordain. And I’m sure you will now too, Miss Rosewood.

The soft, bitter scent of black tea didn’t help as L sank into the sofa across from us, his movements deliberate and unnervingly calm. He sank into the cushions, reaching across the glass table to grab some sugarcubes. To my astonishment, he grabbed not one, not two… but five sugarcubes and dropped them into his steaming drink.

Watching him now, It hit me: we’d probably been on his radar long before that hospital encounter. Chances were, he already knew who we were the first time we saw him at To-Oh. That realization made my stomach ache.

Was there any point that I messed up? Said something I wasn’t supposed to?

I needed to feel out the situation. L knew enough to show his face- either he trusted us, or he didn’t value his life. I had to figure out which.

“You know, Light never mentioned knowing you personally. I thought he was just working under the Task Force with his dad,” I said, keeping my eyes on every twitch of his expression.

He didn’t falter. He stirred his drink with the spoon, holding it at an odd angle- like he’d never used one before.

“That’s interesting,” he murmured, tilting his head just slightly. “Light’s involvement with the Task Force isn’t public knowledge. I’m curious- how did you come to that conclusion?”

His tone was calm, almost casual, but I could feel the weight behind the question. He was testing me, digging without digging, as if he already knew the answer but wanted to see how I’d react.

I paused. We obviously couldn’t just tell him that Myru had told us- that was out of the question. We needed a convincing lie, but not one that Light could accidentally mess up. 

“Honestly, it wasn’t that hard to figure out. Light’s been involved in investigations before, right? His dad mentioned it a few times back when we used to hang out at the Yagami house. And with the Task Force being low on members lately, it made sense they’d recruit someone they already trusted. Light’s always been kind of... determined to help his dad out whenever he can.”

L nodded slowly, taking in what I had just said. He leaned back into his sofa, taking a small sip of his sugary concoction. “So you simply believed it based on a hunch?”

“That’s not exactly a ‘hunch’,” I replied, eyebrows knitting together. “It’s more like connecting the dots- Light’s been involved in cases before, and with the Task Force being short on members, it just made sense. It helped that Light wasn’t home as often as he usually is.”

L tilted his head slightly, his gaze unwavering. “Unpredictability is both intriguing and risky. In theory, someone like you could be useful- yet at the same time, a potential threat to the confidentiality and integrity of our mission.” He gave a faint, almost indifferent sigh. “I don’t mean that as a criticism, of course. I simply prefer to be honest about my concerns.”

My jaw tightened, the weight of his accusation sinking in, even though he wasn’t saying it outright. Typical. If L suspected me of something, he wouldn’t just come out and say it- he’d hint, imply, push me to react.

“With all due respect,” I said, lifting my chin and gesturing with my hands, trying to sound steadier than I felt. “If you really thought I was a threat, you wouldn’t have shown your face to me. Let’s be real- if I were the Kira from that broadcast, you’d be dead before you even made it home. You’re risking showing your face to us because you see something in us being on your team.”

I was going to prove him wrong. I could handle his accusations and mind games without losing my cool. I wasn’t about to fold that easily.

Just as L opened his mouth to respond, the door clicked open. Watari stepped in, moving with quiet precision as he collected L’s empty china cup and placed it on the tray. He glanced at us- calm, unreadable- then shifted his gaze to L, staring silently, like he’d just walked into the middle of something important.

“Perhaps they would be more at ease if they understood your methods, sir. These are young girls, not police officers.” 

Watari’s voice was calm, but carried a quiet weight- almost understanding, like he’d spoken to people our age before. It threw me. Had he worked with teenagers?

L didn’t respond directly, just hummed softly to himself. “Maybe you’re right. But still- I’d prefer to assess their ability to handle what may come their way- should the situation demand it.”

Dove quickly interjected, adding her input without much thought. “Yeah, we’re just here trying not to have a heart attack. You guys seriously need to work on your whole ‘comforting presence’ thing.”

I elbowed her lightly, trying to keep it under the radar while I muttered, “Dove...”

L hummed again, as if processing the critique. “ Noted.”

How the hell was that noted? I scrunched my face, bewildered.

As the tension in the room settled, L spoke up without looking directly at us, his voice calm and thoughtful. “It’s curious... Back at the hospital, Miss Mordain, you didn’t seem frightened when you yelled at me. Most people avoid confrontation, but you appeared... comfortable with it. Almost as if you’re accustomed to thriving under pressure.”

I froze, unsure if that was a compliment or a warning.

L leaned forward slightly, resting his palms on his knees, almost like a bird perched on a wire. His gaze remained steady, voice low and contemplative. “I’m curious... Do you typically act before considering the consequences, or was that particular situation something you’d already adapted to?”

He was baiting for something, I knew that. I just didn’t know what . 

Though, something about his tone suggested he was genuinely curious.

I straightened my back, holding my shoulders tight. “I have a feeling that if I told you the answer, you still wouldn’t be satisfied.”

L paused, thumb returning to his lip as if weighing my words. He didn’t respond right away, letting the silence stretch out. Sensing the friction, Watari moved with practiced precision, setting down another cup of hot tea in front of L.

Finally, he responded softly. “You may be right. Though, I find that the most satisfying answers are rarely the most direct. They tell you more about a person’s psyche.”

I blinked, slightly confused.

“Well, I guess we’re not really good at being direct, either.” Dove inserted, laughing a little to herself. “Or, you know… Normal. So… Guess we’re even?”

L gave her a slow, puzzled look before the faintest hint of a smile flickered on his features. Deliberate. “In that case, perhaps we are.”

He leaned back again, looking almost content- as if the conversation had gone exactly how he wanted. The calm on his face threw me off, making me wonder if I’d missed something important. Maybe he was seeing things I couldn’t.

That worried me.

L spoke evenly, his gaze still fixed on me. “As I mentioned, unpredictability has its uses... provided it doesn’t spiral into something uncontrollable.”

I pressed my lips into a thin line, forcing down the sharp retort itching at the back of my throat. I wasn’t about to dig myself in any deeper. I could tell the meeting was coming to an end, and I had to plead my case while he was still right in front of me.

“You brought us here for a reason. I’d like to think it’s because you see potential, not because you’re looking for someone to blame.”

L’s eyes narrowed- just a fraction. “Potential and blame are not mutually exclusive,” he murmured, his tone thoughtful. “Those who act without thinking often find themselves at the mercy of those who do. I’m curious to see which side you’ll fall on.”

His words lingered, hovering over my back like dead weight. My shoulders stiffened.

L continued, his eyes still on mine. “And when faced with both, it’s better to keep them close- where I can see for myself.”

Just as the weight of L’s words started sinking in, pressing down on me like a lead blanket, Watari’s voice cut through the fog in my head like a knife. “Sir, I believe it would be prudent to discuss the next steps.”

“Ah, that’s right.” L clinked his spoon against the rim of his cup, then straightened his posture ever so slightly. “Yes, I’d like to see how far this potential can go. From now on, I’d like for the two of you to address me as ‘Ryuzaki’. We’ll discuss your formal integration into the task force at a later time. There are still a few assessments I’d like to conduct.”

L’s voice remained serene, almost neutral. “Unpredictability often walks a fine line between potential and danger. I’m curious to see which side you’ll land on. Your integration will help me determine that.”

Silence wrapped around us like a noose. I could feel Dove’s gaze flickering between me and L, waiting for me to say something- anything- that wouldn’t put us in deeper trouble. I couldn’t tell if L was impressed or just amused. Maybe both.

“Understood,” I managed to choke out, my voice a little too flat for my liking.

Dove gave a hesitant nod, her fingers still fidgeting with the edge of her sleeve. “Yeah... Ryuzaki. Got it.”

He didn’t smile. Didn’t nod. Just watched us like he was still deciding something. Watari stood by the door, polite but firm, signaling the conversation had ended.

L’s voice cut through the quiet. “That will be all for tonight. Watari will escort you back. I’ll be in touch.”

As we stood to leave, I couldn’t help but glance back at him one more time, half-hoping to catch a break in that mask of calm. Nothing. Just that same, inscrutable stare.

As we made our way out, L’s words echoed in my head. Unpredictability. Potential. Blame. Was he testing me to see if I’d slip? Or did he just want to see how I’d react when cornered? Either way, I couldn’t let him decide my next move.

Dove and I didn’t speak as Watari led us down the hall. My mind raced with a thousand questions, but none of them seemed safe to ask. When we reached the elevator, I caught a glimpse of my own reflection in the mirrored doors- pale, tired, eyes sharper than they should be.

When the elevator doors slid shut, I let out a breath I hadn’t realized I’d been holding. Dove shot me a sideways glance, still trying to process everything. “Did we just... pass some kind of test?”

I didn’t know. And that gnawing uncertainty wrapped itself around my thoughts like barbed wire. Maybe we did. Maybe we didn’t. Maybe this was just the beginning of whatever game L wanted to play.

As we walked out into the cold night, I couldn’t help but feel that I’d just signed a contract without reading the fine print.

Chapter 19: A Piece I Can’t Afford to Lose

Summary:

Light shows up at Aria’s house uninvited, slipping between charming guest and cold manipulator. As the walls close in, Aria pushes back for the first time- only to realize how far Light is willing to go to keep her in check.

Dove and I had split at the intersection, her footsteps fading behind me as I kept my head down, still trying to wrap my brain around everything that had just happened. It wasn’t until I was halfway home that I finally pulled my phone from my pocket, half out of habit. A message blinked up from the screen- the one I’d missed earlier. My stomach dipped when I saw Light’s name at the top. I hadn’t checked my phone since before the meeting. 

I swiped it open, breath catching.

We need to talk. I’m coming over.

My shoulders stiffened.

That was hours ago. Was he already at my place? Waiting for me? Why the hell was he even there?

My pulse quickened, and I picked up the pace, practically jogging the last stretch to my front step. I fumbled through my purse for the keys, fingers clumsy and frantic, before finally shoving one into the lock and twisting it open.

My stomach dropped. There he was, sitting at the kitchen table like he owned the place- calm, collected, not a single trace of impatience on his face. He looked like he belonged there, like this was just another casual visit, and not the ambush it felt like.

He turned his head, raising a brow with that familiar, dry tone. “You didn’t answer my text.”

My grip tightened around my phone, shoulders tensing. “You’re already here?”

His smile was polite but empty, not quite reaching his eyes. He picked up his glass, taking a measured sip before speaking, his tone light but pointed. “It’s important. Besides, I’ve been here before- your mom was happy to see me.”

Of course she was. I tried my best to hide my grimace.

Almost on cue, my mother walked in- tired, shoulders slumped, hair flat. She moved like a shadow, dragging a cloud of exhaustion behind her. But the moment she saw Light, her expression brightened, a rare hint of joy softening her features- something she never showed for me.

“Oh, Light! I almost forgot you were here.” She glanced around, sighing dramatically. “Sorry about the mess. I keep telling Aria to clean up, but you know how she is- never listens. I bet your place is spotless, huh? You must be so responsible.” 

She shot me a look, like I’d betrayed her. I bit my bottom lip so hard it drew blood, trying not to lose my cool as I glanced over to Light.

His polite smile remained perfectly intact- so gentle it bordered on insincere. A subtle pang twisted in my gut as he addressed my mother.

"Ah, my mom likes to keep things tidy," He said with a light chuckle, brushing off the compliment without directly agreeing. "But I know how busy things can get. Don’t worry about it."

There was something layered in the way he said it- like he took twisted satisfaction in the pedestal my mom put him on. It wasn’t just about being polite or charming, it was the way he seemed to delight in being the golden boy. Like he enjoyed the fact that my own family placed him above me without a second thought.

Then his eyes flicked to mine- just for a second. An almost invisible smirk twitched on his lips, so quick I barely caught it. A silent acknowledgment that he knew exactly how easily my mom had taken his side, and how little it took for him to overshadow me in my own home.

Like he relished in it.

"You’re such a good friend," My mom gushed, placing a hand on Light’s shoulder. "I’m always telling Aria she should be more like you. You know, he came over to help you with that project you’ve been whining about."

I sighed without meaning to, my voice coming out bitter. “Thanks, Light.”

"Of course. You mentioned feeling a bit overwhelmed, so I thought I’d drop by and see if you needed any help. I did a similar project a few years ago, so I figured I could offer some guidance."

As he stood from the barstool, his hand rested easily on the frame. My mom’s eyes softened even more. A smile crept onto her face, almost dreamy.

“You’re always so considerate, Light,” she said, her voice almost too fond. “You really take care of her, don’t you?”

He moved past his seat, his hand brushing just above my shoulder blade- light, almost reassuring. His smile remained humble, effortless. “I just want to help where I can,” he said smoothly, guiding me toward the stairs like the considerate friend he played so well.

I didn’t miss the way his hand skimmed my shoulder, easy and unassuming- just enough contact to frame it as guidance, not force. My mom seemed completely charmed, smiling at him like he was a blessing dropped into her life. I forced myself to breathe, shoving down the knot of frustration in my chest.

“Why don’t you two go work on that project?” My mom suggested, her voice bright and oblivious. “I’ll bring up some tea in a bit.”

Light nodded, keeping that calm, effortless smile. “That sounds great. Thank you, Mrs. Mordain.”

I didn’t trust myself to say anything. Instead, I just glanced at him, forcing a neutral expression as he motioned for me to lead the way upstairs. I went ahead, trying not to look back.

We reached my room, and the second I closed the door behind us, I couldn’t hold it in anymore.

“What the hell are you doing here?” I whispered, keeping my voice low in case my mom was nearby.

Light didn’t even hesitate. As soon as the door clicked shut, he reached over and locked it, his polite mask slipping away in an instant. His tone dropped, low and commanding.

“Tell me everything.”

I hesitated, pressing back against my desk, both hands gripping the edge for support. I didn’t actually think he’d do anything drastic, but my body reacted on instinct- tense, like it was bracing for impact.

“Everything about what...?” I managed, my voice tighter than I intended.

“About your meeting with L.” He stepped away from the door, a step closer to me.

His eyes darted around the room, scanning the corners and walls like he was searching for hidden cameras or microphones that didn’t exist. Then, just as quickly, his gaze snapped back to mine- sharp, unyielding, as though he was dissecting every flicker of my expression.

He paused, giving me time to answer. I almost held my breath.

I swallowed, trying to keep my voice steady. “He told us to come to the hotel room. Me and Dove went, saw Watari first, and then L came in. Nothing bad happened. He mostly just... called me unpredictable and tried grilling us for information. I didn’t give him anything.”

I hesitated, replaying the encounter in my head, feeling the tension tighten around my ribs. Then it hit me, and my gaze snapped back to Light, more focused this time- jaw tightening. “Wait. You knew who he was, didn’t you? He was the same guy from the hospital with you and your dad. A warning would’ve been nice.”

Light didn’t miss a beat. His expression remained calm, almost amused, as he leaned casually against the doorframe. “I thought you’d put that together on your own,”He said smoothly, his tone light but edged with something sharper. “You’re smarter than that, Aria. Or at least, I thought you were.”

He feigned disappointment and straightened, the faintest hint of a smirk ghosting across his lips. “Besides, you were so confident in handling it back then. I figured you didn’t need my help. If I’d told you who he was, you would’ve overthought it. Made yourself look guilty. This way, you were natural- unguarded. If L really is suspicious, I just gave him the most convincing proof that you had no idea who he was.”

His patronizing tone was really starting to get under my nerves. He never talked like this growing up. Sure, he had an ego to him but never acted so blatantly like I was beneath him.

I gripped the edge of the table, knuckles white, leaning in to make myself seem bigger than I felt. Chin up, eyes locked, I refused to let him see how small I really was.

“Why are you acting like I’d screw this up?” My voice hardened, raising just enough that my mother wouldn’t hear from downstairs. “We did what we were supposed to. He didn’t suspect anything. He thinks you’re Kira a hell of a lot more than he thinks we are.”

Light’s eyes narrowed just a little, his expression calm but calculating. He leaned forward, his voice low and smooth, almost soothing despite the edge in his words. “Are you sure? Because you seem pretty on edge. I’m not doubting you, Aria. Just wondering if you overlooked something. Something that could bring us both down.”

“Of course I was nervous!” I shot back, sharp and unsteady. “And I still am! That guy sees through people like it’s nothing- like he was testing us, just waiting for one of us to crack. And now you just show up at my house out of nowhere? I can’t even remember the last time you were here!”

For a split second, his eyes flickered- less cold calculation, something more raw and annoyed. Almost as if he was taken off guard by how firm I was being. “Did he imply that he suspected you?”

“No. he just… kept talking about unpredictability. Like it was both a strength and a weakness.”

Light’s eyes narrowed. “And how did you respond?”

I took a breath, trying to piece together the right words without sounding like I was second-guessing myself. “I said it wasn’t always a bad thing,” I admitted, feeling the tension prickling at the back of my neck. “That sometimes... thinking too far ahead makes people miss what’s right in front of them.”

A flicker of something- half irritance, half approval- crossed his face. He shifted his weight, leaning casually against the wall, arms folding across his chest like he was anchoring himself in place. His gaze stayed fixed on me, intense.

“You need to be more careful.” He exhaled through his nose. “If he thinks you’re erratic, he’ll focus on you. You’re smart, but your reactions make you a liability. That’s why I’m handling this."

“I’m not just some pawn you can move around.” I bit back.

“No. You’re a piece I can’t afford to lose. But that means keeping you from making mistakes.”

His tone shifted- almost gentle, but not out of affection. It was more like the way someone speaks to a younger sibling- condescending, with a hint of superiority. Yet beneath that subtle softness, there was a trace of something sharper, possessive, as if he was quietly reminding me that while I was useful to him, I was still breakable.

“You do know that if you slip up, L won’t just come after you. He’ll come after everyone connected to you- including me.” He added. A reminder I didn’t need.

“So that’s what you’re really worried about.” I let out a frustrated breath, running a hand through my hair as I shook my head.

“What I’m worried about,” he murmured, slanting in just enough for the glow of the TV to catch the sharp line of his jaw, “is you losing sight of how much is on the line.”

Something flickered behind his eyes- not just anger, but something sharper, heavier. It didn’t make sense at first, didn’t fit with the calculated frustration I was used to. Almost like he wasn’t just pissed off about me screwing up- like there was something else clawing at him.

“Remember this.” His tone was low, almost instructive. “If L backs you into a corner, don’t let your instincts take over. You’re smarter than that. Show him.”

He watched me carefully, like he was measuring whether his words had settled in. After a moment, he straightened, the tension in his posture loosening just slightly.

“I’m glad we understand each other.”

He moved away from the wall, adjusting his collar like he was brushing off the conversation. “I’ll see myself out. Your mom will wonder why I’m up here so long.”

As he turned to leave, his hand lingered on the doorknob, and his eyes flicked back to mine. For a second, something darker stirred in his expression- like he couldn’t quite place what had shifted between us. Then, with one last calculating glance, he turned and unlocked the door, slipping back into that polite, effortless persona he’d worn downstairs.

As he stepped into the hallway, I heard him casually greet my mom, voice warm and composed as if he hadn’t just cornered me in my own room. The door shut softly behind him, leaving me standing there, the air feeling heavier in his absence.

I glanced down at my hands, still clenched white-knuckled against the desk. Forcing myself to relax, I let go, moving to sit on the edge of my bed.

I dropped back onto the mattress, trying to steady my breathing. Light’s words echoed in my head- not just the warning, but the way his tone shifted when he called me a piece in his game.

Myru’s shadow loomed over me, stretching long across the wall. “Humans are strange,” she mused, her voice low. “He wants you to be strong but keeps treating you like a broken thing.”

I wanted to answer but I couldn’t, my mind still drilling itself with conflicting thoughts. Conflicting thoughts about him- about our situation- about everything .

“I hate that he thinks he knows me.” I finally spat out. “I’m not that same girl from last year that would’ve done anything he asked. I have power now, just like him.”

Myru stayed quiet, hovering nearby like she always did when words failed her. I sighed, reaching into my jean pocket and pulling out my flip phone. The screen glowed dimly, the old message still there.

We need to talk. I’m coming over.

I stared at it for a moment longer before pressing delete, wiping it from existence. The screen went blank, but the uneasy feeling didn’t leave.

Why did this feel worse than facing L?

After deleting the message, I let my phone drop onto the bed, the screen fading to black. I stared at the ceiling, forcing my mind to go blank, but the tension wouldn’t let up.

Myru shifted in the shadows, her silhouette blending into the dark. I didn’t look at her. I didn’t want to see that quiet, knowing stare.

I wasn’t that girl anymore. I couldn’t be. I just had to convince him- and myself- of that.

The house creaked around me, settling into the night. I pulled the blanket over my shoulders, trying to bury the chill that lingered in my bones.

Maybe sleep would make it easier to forget.

Chapter 20: Azalea and Dahlia

Summary:

Aria and Dove attend a task force meeting for the first time. New aliases are assigned, Light takes a commanding role, and L reveals a test broadcast to bait the second Kira- whose response comes sooner than anyone expected.

It had been a week since Light showed up at my door, and the world hadn’t quite settled back into place. The car was stuffy despite the heater’s low hum, the leather seats sticking to my thighs through my tights. The sky outside was a bruised gray, fading into night, and the street lights flickered by in uneven intervals, casting long, jagged shadows through the windows. Dove sat beside me, her fingers tapping a restless rhythm on her knee. Up front, Light’s silhouette was framed against the dashboard’s dim glow, his head slightly tilted as if listening for something. Outside, I caught glimpses of Myru and Ryuk drifting behind us, their forms distorted by the warped glass, floating like uneasy ghosts in the growing dark.

Soichiro had picked us up that evening, mentioning that L had called for another task force meeting. This time, we’d be meeting the rest of the team- or at least, what was left of it.

Even with Light in the car, having Soichiro there brought a sense of comfort- like I was safe, protected. He didn’t play any music as he drove, the silence stretching out until he finally spoke up after what felt like an eternity. 

Even then, the quiet pressed down like the car had doubled in weight, each breath too loud, each movement too noticeable.

“So, girls,” Soichiro began, his voice steady but laced with that familiar concern. “What are you telling your parents about where you’ve been going lately? Our meetings might become more frequent, and I don’t want them worrying.” His hands tightened slightly on the steering wheel, eyes focused on the road ahead.

I lowered my chin into my chest, sighing. “My mom’s really not home enough to care. You know how she is.”

“My parents just think I’m at Aria’s or your house.” Dove piped up, tearing her attention away from the window. “They don’t ask most of the time.”

Soichiro gave a quiet hum of approval, his gaze never leaving the road as he guided the car through the dim, winding streets. The city lights blurred past the windows, casting fleeting patterns on the seats as we made our way to the hotel L had specified.

Trying to ease the underlying tension, Dove chirped up again- this time more bright. “If we keep meeting in random hotels like this, I’m gonna start feeling like some kind of spy or something.”

Her smile was too bright, too forced, like she was trying to cover up the tension crawling under her skin. I had told her about my conversation with Light. She knew that there was something brewing under the surface.

Light’s deep brown eyes flicked to her in the rearview mirror, just for a moment- before shifting back to the road.

Soichiro chuckled under his breath. “That’s one way to put it.”

I could tell our last conversation had been circling in Light’s head since it happened. I knew that look- the one he got when he was dead serious, calculating. The tension between us had been suffocating ever since we met up with him after dinner. I couldn’t tell if he was planning something or just simmering with anger. Maybe both. He hadn’t said a word to me the entire ride. I wasn’t sure if anyone else felt it, but I knew he did.

What the hell is up his ass?

“You girls feeling nervous?” Soichiro asked, his tone gentle but steady. “I know this is a big responsibility, and I don’t want the pressure from the case weighing on you too much.” He glanced back at us from the front seat, his expression soft with worry.

Dove let out a lighthearted laugh, trying to brush off Soichiro’s concern, but Light cut in, his voice slicing through the moment- sharp and final. “They’ll be fine.”

His words sounded more like a challenge than reassurance, like he was reminding us that we were still under his control.

I couldn’t tell if his words were a solace to his father- or a warning to us.

✢ ✢ ✢

The ride ended not long after that, and we pulled up to a nondescript hotel, parking in the side lot. We climbed out, heading in through the back entrance. I stuck close to Soichiro like a safety net, with Dove at my side and Light trailing just behind. Every few steps, I’d steal a glance over my shoulder, catching his eye before quickly looking forward again, a chill creeping through my veins.

There was just… something different about him now. Something unsettling.

As we made our way through the narrow halls, Dove leaned closer to my shoulder- whispering in my ear. “Is it just me, or does this place feel more like a fancy jail than a hotel?”

I bit my lip, sneaking a final peek back at Light and our shinigami, catching the rigidness in his posture. “It’s not just you.”

Ryuk let out a gravelly chuckle that only the three of us could hear, bouncing off the tall ceilings. “Humans build such big, important-looking places… but they mean nothing.”

Myru’s chains gave a soft clink as she moved, her tone quieter. “Maybe it means something to them.”

Ryuk just gave a low, amused grunt, like he couldn’t wrap his head around the thought. I shot a look at Dove, who was staring at them openly, and nudged her to keep moving.

Damn Ryuk . I thought, trudging along. 

A few days ago, I’d told Myru to stay quiet in public unless it was absolutely necessary- her voice had a way of pulling Dove and I off track. But Ryuk didn’t seem to care about that. He was loud and disruptive, completely ruining the careful plan we’d tried to set.

Finally, we reached our destination- a makeshift meeting room tucked into the suite. A conference table sat at the center, a laptop open on top, surrounded by a few scattered chairs. A whiteboard stood off to the side, marked with a few hastily scribbled notes.

This time, the task force was already there. A tall, broad-shouldered man let us in, giving a curt nod as we stepped inside. By the window stood another man with curly hair, casting us a skeptical glance. I recognized him, along with the guy in the corner who was fumbling with projector cords, as the two who had first introduced us to L. The one in the corner seemed particularly lost, tangled up in wires and muttering under his breath.

And then there was L, perched in his unusual crouch on the sofa, eyes fixed on the laptop in front of him.

L greeted us with a polite nod, which the four of us returned in kind. 

We stepped in, choosing our seats alongside the group. Without lifting his head from the laptop, L spoke, his voice calm and measured. “It’s good to see you again. From now on, you will not address us by our real names during meetings. To maintain privacy and protection against Kira, I will be assigning aliases for the two of you.”

Dove shot me a confused glance. 

“Of course, you may continue to address Light by his real name to avoid any unnecessary confusion, but his last name will be changed to Asahi, much like his father.” L said, his tone even and unbothered. His finger lifted, pointing directly at me. “You will be Azalea.”

I felt my mouth twitch involuntarily.

He shifted his gaze to Dove. “And you will be Dahlia. Please memorize these names and use them exclusively in this context.”

Dove blinked. “Those are flowers, right?”

“Yes.” L nodded. “It’s better to use names that won’t draw unnecessary attention if overheard.” 

He played absently with his fork, and it was only then I noticed the small slice of strawberry shortcake that accompanied it. He popped a bite into his mouth, mumbling through chews. “I also found the names fitting for the both of you.”

L took another slow bite of his shortcake, barely glancing up. “Like I said, to maintain security and minimize risk, we will be using aliases during meetings and any related discussions,” he began, voice calm and precise. “I will introduce each member, and they will confirm their alias.”

He gestured toward himself with the fork. “I am Ryuzaki.”

Aizawa straightened, stepping forward slightly. “My name is Aizawa. You can call me Aihara.”

Next was Matsuda, who gave a quick, almost nervous wave. “Uh, I’m Matsuda. My alias is Taro Matsui.”

Mogi nodded from his place near the door. “Mogi. Kanzo Mogi.”

Soichiro spoke up from beside Light. “My alias will be Asahi.”

Finally, L gestured toward the laptop screen where Watari’s voice crackled through. “Watari will continue to use his real name.”

L set the fork down, his fingers tapping lightly on the table. “Please memorize these names and use them appropriately. Any deviation could compromise our efforts.”

Aizawa took a step forward, giving us a good glance over. “You two better get used to it. You slip up, and it could put us all at risk.”

At this, L’s gaze finally lifted from the laptop, his thumb brushing lightly against his bottom lip as his dark eyes settled on us, assessing. He shifted slightly in his seat, the faint creak of the chair breaking the stillness before he spoke.

“I understand that you may have already heard about the false broadcast I asked Light to create. We needed to assess the possibility of a second Kira by provoking a response.”

I hadn’t heard of this. Of course I hadn’t. 

My eyes darted to Light, standing there impossibly still- calm and composed, like this was just another ordinary day. Why would L make him create the response if he suspected him? It had to be some kind of test. But giving Light that kind of control seemed reckless- like handing him a perfect opportunity to subtly reach out to this new Kira.

I swallowed thickly. “Did it work?”

L paused, briefly peering at Light before answering. “No response so far. It’s possible that the second Kira is more cautious than expected. Or, they might not have seen the broadcast.”

“We’re still monitoring for any changes,” Matsuda chimed in, a bit too eager, his attempt at professionalism almost endearing. He glanced at Dove as he spoke, his eyes lighting up just a little when he caught her looking his way. “If there’s a reaction, it might take a few days.”

Dove gave him a quick smile, and Matsuda straightened up, like he was trying just a bit harder to sound competent. I couldn’t help but notice the way his attention kept flickering back to her, like he was trying to figure out how someone like her ended up mixed in with all this.

L cut in just in time to stop me from snickering to myself. “It’s also possible that the original Kira does not see the second as an ally. We must consider every possibility.”

He then focused his attention back to the group. “Your role, Azalea and Dahlia, is to continue analyzing the broadcasts for inconsistencies. Light will guide you through the process.”

My heart sank just a little. 

Light gave a small, measured nod- as though taking on the role of our handler was effortless, barely worth acknowledging.

Aizawa, on the other hand, wasn’t as subtle. From behind my crossed arms, I noticed him lean toward Mogi, mumbling something just loud enough for me to catch out of the corner of my eye.

“I’m not comfortable with kids being involved in this,” Aizawa muttered, his tone low and uneasy. “Whatever L’s planning, I don’t like it.”

Mogi gave a low grunt of agreement but stayed quiet. They both looked at us like we didn’t belong there, and I couldn’t tell whether their irritation was directed at us- or at L’s decision to connect us with the investigation.

Matsuda must have overheard, because his expression faltered for a second before he quickly bounced back, trying to lighten the mood with his usual optimism. “Hey, it’s really great that you two noticed something off with the first broadcast!” he said, his tone too enthusiastic. “That’s what we were thinking too, so you must be pretty sharp! We could definitely use more eyes on this- every bit helps!”

I nodded, agreeing in a way that blended me in the most. I didn’t want to appear too out of place when eyes were already on me.

The meeting started winding down after that, with a few scattered conversations but nothing too important. Matsuda complimented Dove’s outfit, trying to sound casual but coming off too excited. Light kept his distance, barely looking my way. Soichiro and I chatted briefly about Sayu- how she missed us- but I didn’t have much to say on that. I obviously couldn’t tell him I spent my time writing names and talking to a god of death. 

L was giving us final instructions on continuing to monitor public reaction to the Kira response broadcast- when his laptop screen flashed white. 

His signature ‘L’ popped on screen, and Watari’s voice sliced through the room. 

“Ryuzaki.” He said, tone more urgent than I’d ever heard it. “We’ve received a reply from the second Kira.”

I froze, heart pounding.

Dove shot me a worried glance.

The room went still, tension thick enough to choke on. Light straightened, and for a split second, his calm shattered- jaw tight, fingers curling against the chair. Then it was gone, his expression smoothing over like nothing had happened.

Was he… afraid?

Silence. The kind that seemed to hang in the air like a noose, pulling tighter with each breath. Light didn’t move, his expression bordered serene, but his fingers were still curled into his palm.

Send the tape," L commanded, his voice slicing through the tension like a razor, eyes never leaving the screen.

Chapter 21: Echoes of Godhood

Summary:

A word they never wanted to hear- “shinigami”- rings out from the screen. As L falters and Light locks down, Aria feels the walls closing in.

The screen flickered to life with a dull, blue glow as Mogi clicked play. No one moved. The air was thick, the kind of heavy that presses on your chest before anything’s even said. I sat stiff in my chair, my eyes flicking toward Light, whose calm mask hadn’t cracked- yet. But I could see it in the way his shoulders sat just a little too still, his jaw set just a little too tightly. Across the room, L hunched over, hands wrapped around his tea like it was anchoring him to the present. The broadcast began with static, sharp and cold, before the second Kira’s voice broke through: high, bright, disturbingly cheerful.

“ Kira, thank you for responding. I will do as you say. ”

A chill crawled down my spine. I loosened my grip on the hem of my skirt, fingers numb. Around me, the room buzzed with quiet excitement- relief, maybe- that the plan had actually worked.

“ I want to meet you, Kira. I don’t think you have the eyes, but I won’t kill you, don’t worry. ”

Dove’s eyes went wide. I stiffened, following her gaze as it flicked- just for a second- to Light.

He stood tall and rigid, his eyes blown- not with shock, but something heavier. Anger? Strain? Whatever it was, I couldn’t say I felt much different. This second Kira was going to give us up at this rate.

“Having the eyes ?” Aizawa pressed, arms crossed. “What does that mean?”

L didn’t answer, perched in silent concentration.

Its distorted voice kept going through the laptop’s speakers. “ Please think of a way we can meet without the police knowing. We can confirm each other when we meet by showing our shinigami. ”

A jolt ripped through me like an exposed wire. My jaw clenched so fast my teeth clicked. I didn’t mean to flinch, but I did- hard, like I’d just been slapped.

Shinigami . Out loud. On camera.

What the hell were they thinking?

Dove had gone quiet beside me. Too quiet. Her posture had stiffened, but she wasn’t even breathing through her nose anymore- just sitting there, hands clutched so tightly in her lap I could hear the fabric straining.

She hated hearing the word out loud. Hated what it reminded her of.

Then- a loud thud.

My head whipped to L- just in time to see his chair topple backward, crashing to the floor with a sickening thud. He let out a sharp, startled cry- raw, involuntary.

The room froze. No one moved. No one knew whether to help or just watch.

L’s arms were flung skyward, trembling like he thought they might catch him.

Something about it made my skin crawl.

Matsuda was the one to rush forward first, leaning down and offering him a helping hand. “Are you alright, Ryuzaki?”

L stared, eyes stretched too wide, like he couldn’t blink even if he wanted to. His breath hitched, words stammering out as he locked onto the screen- as though something might crawl out of it and grab him.

“A shinigami?” he choked. “Are we supposed to accept the existence of such a thing?”

My stomach clenched, churning in a way that made me sick. I forced myself to breathe manually, trying to regulate myself while my head spun.

We’re screwed if they keep running their mouth like this. I can’t stop them- I can’t even find them. Can’t threaten what I can’t see. I don’t even know who the hell they are.

L straightened himself, brushing off his pants, but his gaze remained fixated on the screen- face paler than usual.

“Shinigami…” L murmured, almost to himself. “That’s the first time Kira had claimed something so… supernatural. It can’t be possible.”

Were they stupid? Giving away our cards to the very people we needed to hide it from the most?

I peeked over at Light, trying to gauge his reaction to no avail. His features were unreadable, sights fixated on L.

“He’s scared,” Dove whispered suddenly. Almost like she was reading my thoughts.

I blinked. “Who?”

“Light,” she said, still watching him. “Not angry. Scared.”

I wasn’t sure if she was right. But it unsettled me more that I didn’t immediately disagree.

“You’re right, Ryuzaki.” He finally spoke. “Shinigami can’t possibly exist.”

Beside me, Dove shifted her weight, fidgety and tense. I could feel the unease rolling off her in waves. She leaned in, just enough that her breath brushed my ear, voice barely a whisper.

“Do you think they know?”

I didn’t dare answer- not with everyone watching. I just gave the slightest shake of my head, keeping my mouth shut and my face tighter than my nerves. Mentioning Myru in this room would be suicide. Literally. Even though she was hovering not too far behind us.

L hummed under his breath, positioning himself back up onto the sofa. “The original Kira also made a prisoner write something that suggested the existence of shinigami.”

I focused back on Light, narrowing my eyes- lower lids squinting involuntarily. Seriously? Is he stupid too?! Or just trying to provoke L in any way he can think of?

“Then should we assume this is the same Kira- the person using the same word?” Soichiro asked, stepping forward with quiet authority. Arms folded, brow furrowed, he stared at the screen like it might shift under pressure. His voice was steady, but heavy- like he was already bracing for the fallout.

“That’s not possible, dad.” Light interjected “If this was the same Kira, then there’d be no way he’d reply to our videotape. Why would Kira go along with our plan to stop L from going on TV?”

“So they’ve teamed up,” Aizawa muttered. “The real Kira and this second one. They’re using the word ‘shinigami’ to muddy the waters- confuse the investigation.”

L straightened slowly, fingers brushing the armrest as he pulled himself upright. His limbs were still a little shaky, but his voice- his voice had already snapped back into form, cold and analytical.

“That’s also not possible. As Light said, if they were working together, then they wouldn’t stop their plan to kill me. The second Kira is working from their own feelings. Their own desire to meet Kira in person.”

The idea that someone would want to meet Light that badly- like he was some divine figure- threw me. I’d grown up with him. He wasn’t a god. He was just a boy who used to wipe out on his bike and come home with gravel in his palms. Smart? Sure. Charismatic? Absolutely. But holy? No. He bled like the rest of us.

Would someone really risk so much just for the chance at meeting him?

I spoke up, trying to sound steady. “So you don’t think this other Kira actually cares about killing criminals? They just want to meet their idol?”

Light frowned, locking his arms across his chest in that casual, practiced way- like he already had the answer. He brushed right past what I said, barely acknowledging it. “Maybe this shinigami term is describing their ability to kill? ‘Confirming each other by showing our shinigami.’ We could think of that as meaning that they will show each other their ability to kill people.”

“Yes… At the very least, this term ‘shinigami’ means something to these two people. We at the very least could try and learn more about this.” L interjected, almost cynical in his tone.

Clever cover. I’ll give him that.
Not entirely a lie, either.

Dove shifted beside me, her voice low and a little uncertain. “Then what do we do? Do we send a response back?”

My thoughts spun, nerves tightening. If there really was another Death Note user, it meant another threat- one Light had probably been calculating around long before I realized. Did this second Kira even know what they were doing? It didn’t seem like it. And if Light responded again, who knew what kind of coded message he’d slip in- something only they’d recognize. Hell, he could use it to get rid of me and Dove, and no one would even notice.

Myru would . I reassured myself. If either of us die before our lifespan dictates, then she’ll know who’s responsible.

L’s voice cut through my spiraling thoughts- calm, final, and somehow… reassuring.

“No. From now on, we’ll let Kira and the second Kira handle everything.”

L snapped back into his usual rhythm, his tone unreadable as he instructed Watari over the phone to replay the video.

“We’ll broadcast this reply on the six o’clock news. We can assume that the second Kira is very happy about receiving a reply from Kira. He succeeded in getting Kira’s attention, and used terms only the two of them can understand.”

I snuck a quick glance at Ryuk and Myru, unease prickling under my skin, then turned my eyes back to L.

“Obviously,” he continued, straight-faced. “Kira must be paying attention to this back and forth between the second Kira and the one we’ve created. From Kira’s point of view, he’d definitely want to avoid the second Kira getting captured by the police. Kira may start worrying about what will happen if he doesn’t interfere.”

L’s brows scrunched in concentration, his words deliberate and even. “It’s possible that the real Kira may send a reply next time.”

Dove fidgeted beside me, hands tense in her lap like she was trying to piece everything together and falling short. I doubted it- but even I couldn’t say that for sure. Light’s moves made less and less sense to me as time passed, like he was twenty steps ahead of something I couldn’t even comprehend yet.

L sank into the sofa, a flicker of thought pulling across his face. “I’ve also been thinking about what the second Kira would do if no reply comes from Kira. The second Kira would probably release more information to the police and media that Kira wants to keep secret, in order to pressure Kira into meeting him. That would be very interesting.”

He dragged out the last sentence, locking eyes with Light like he was daring him to flinch. Across the room, a shadow passed over Light’s face- barely noticeable, but enough to show he’d realized how much this could cost him.

“And it would be even more interesting,” L continued, “if Kira sent a reply to avoid this. In that case, we could gain some physical evidence against Kira via the copies he sends us.”

He didn’t look at Light when he said it- at least- not directly. But the words hung in the air like a trap just waiting to snap shut.
It was obvious who the warning was meant for.

L was speaking to all of us, but his target sat just across the room, perfectly still.

At last, L brought the meeting to a close, his voice even and final.
“Closely examine every piece of mail sent to any television station. If they do receive something from Kira or the second Kira, I will decide whether they can be broadcast to the public or not. For now, let’s gather all the evidence we can on the second Kira.”

The meeting ended, but the silence lingered- coiled, unfinished. Chairs scraped. Papers shuffled. I didn’t move. Across the room, Light stood motionless, appearing smooth as glass. Whatever he was thinking, it wasn’t over. Not for him. Not for me. And definitely not for Kira.

I stood slowly, the ache in my legs catching up to the tension in my spine. Dove didn’t move right away either. She just looked at me, wide-eyed and pale.

“I don’t like this,” she whispered.

I didn’t either. But it was too late to stop any of it.

Chapter 22: If I Sleep Here, I Might Not Wake Up

Summary:

Sayu invites Aria and Dove over for a sleepover- blankets, snacks, and matching pajamas. It should feel safe. But the house is still haunted by the boy upstairs.

Nothing had happened in two weeks. And somehow, that was worse.

No new tapes. No late-night calls. No whispers from L or suspicious glances from Light. Just stillness- long, dragging, unnatural. I kept telling myself that it should be a relief. That silence meant safety.
But it didn’t.
It felt like the eye of something circling, waiting to strike.

We still wrote names. Not messy- just enough to feel it. Myru hovered, silent, chains humming like she was tracking something only she understood.

And still, I could tell- she liked it.

The nerves always crept in between pen and paper and the news- if there was any. It wasn’t like Light. No clean forty seconds. No instant results. We had to wait. Guess. Hope. Sometimes the names vanished into silence. But when confirmation came- suicide, asphyxiation, car crash, whatever we picked- it left our minds just as fast. Like it had never been there at all.

I didn’t feel guilty anymore. It was just something we did. Like brushing your teeth. Taking out the trash. The rush was gone. It was a chore now. Mundane.

And yet- when I spotted it buried in some forum thread, or slipped into the corner of a foreign broadcast… one less monster in the world…

It still made me feel something.
Not guilt. Not relief.

Control.

At least this time, it wasn’t me or Dove on the other end.

It was evening when I got Sayu’s text:

Hey girl, wanna sleep over? Bring Dove. I miss you guys. Feels like I never see you anymore! :(

I stared at my phone like it might crack apart in my hands. It had been a while.

Being in that house was harder now. Knowing who was really upstairs. Watching someone wear the face of the boy I used to trust like it still belonged to him.

Sometimes I wondered if I’d ruined everything by not keeping the Death Note to myself. If Dove and I would’ve been safer if I never said a word. If I’d just kept pretending.

Maybe. But it didn’t matter. I made the call. And now Light Yagami- Kira - wanted me dead.

Still, I said yes.

I wasn’t sure why. Habit, maybe. Or some stupid part of me that still wanted to pretend everything was normal.
Either way, it didn’t take long to pack my things and walk with Myru to the Yagami house.

✢ ✢ ✢

Dove was already there when I arrived, curled on the couch with her shoes half-kicked off and a soda in her hand. Sayu had launched herself into a hug the second I stepped through the door, her energy like a shock to the system- warm, loud, and untouchable.

She’d gone all out.

The living room looked like it had time-traveled. Futons lined the floor like we were ten again. Blankets were piled high by the TV. A mountain of snacks and soda cans were waiting for us, glowing under the dim light of a salt lamp she must’ve stolen from Sachiko’s yoga room.

“Ta-da!” she beamed, yanking a crinkly shopping bag out from behind the coffee table. “I got us these.”

Matching pajamas. Not just any- soft little nightdresses with different patterns, like she’d assigned them based on memory.
Mine was navy, dusted in tiny constellations.
Dove’s was a faded pink, patterned in delicate bows.
And Sayu- obviously- had cherry blossoms.

She looked so proud of herself. Like we were still just girls, untouched by anything heavier than a pop quiz.

And for a second, maybe we were.

I smiled. A soft, sad thing. “Thanks, Sayu, these are really cute.”

We got dressed after that, putting on a new show Sayu was obsessed with on the TV. We didn’t really watch it though, we talked to each other almost like nothing had changed. 

Almost.

“My dad took my mom out for a date, isn’t that so cute?!” Sayu gushed, holding a plush bunny close to her chest. “When I’m older, I want a relationship like that. My husband better take me on all the dates in the world!”

Dove reached over, grabbing a chip from the bag. Sayu pouted like she owned the whole thing. Dove snickered. “If your husband isn’t paying for your dates and snacks and letting us eat your leftovers then you better file for divorce.”

Sayu pointed at Dove with a smile, talking through her chews. “Deal. You’d totally be my lawyer.”

I rolled onto my side, picking at a loose thread in the futon. “I wanna be the one testifying dramatically in court. Creepy silhouette in the back row. Maybe part of some secret mafia. Something sick like that.”

The joke came out smoother than it felt. Maybe I was getting better at faking it.

“You’d look sooo cool like that. I could see it.” Sayu chirped, rummaging her hand back into the bag. The sound crinkled across the room. “I’d be a total diva, fur coat and everything. Like those gold diggers on TV.”

“Oh please,” Dove teased, playfully rolling her eyes. “Like you have that in you.”

“I totally do!” Sayu whined.

“Do not.” I retorted.

Sayu pouted, her bottom lip jutting out in mock offense. The night rolled on with soft chatter and the rustle of snack bags, school gossip flickering between us like background noise- until she suddenly stilled, eyes sharpening with something unreadable. She leaned in, slow and theatrical, like she was about to drop a bomb.

“Oh my god, you guys. I totally forgot to tell you- but you have to swear not to tell anyone.” Sayu’s voice dropped to a whisper, barely above the rustle of blankets, like she was afraid the walls might be listening.

I nodded. Dove drew an invisible X over her heart, all wide eyes and mock solemnity.

Something lit up in Sayu’s gaze- a glint sharp with gossip and satisfaction.

“My dad sat us all down the other night- well, like, two months ago? Maybe? I totally forgot to say this- apparently he’s working on the Kira case. Like, for real. Light was there too, and they were talking all serious, and he said the FBI got involved and sent, like, twelve agents and all of them died. And now he’s going around saying stuff like, ‘I might not come home one day,’ and that he’s putting his life on the line and blah blah- it’s totally freaking me out. And my mom. And Light too, probably. But seriously, you can’t tell anyone. It’s supposed to be, like, super top secret.”

I blinked, hard. The floor tilted for half a second, the line between normal life and everything we were hiding snapping thin beneath me. My hand hovered mid-crunch around a chip, but the hunger had drained from my stomach.

“Twelve?” I said, trying to breathe through it. “That sounds like a horror movie.”
The laugh I gave was weak- more exhale than anything else. I prayed Sayu wouldn’t notice.

I didn’t know.

How the hell could I have known? When was this? How?

Why would he do that- wipe out twelve innocent people when his entire god complex was built on “justice”?

Next to me, Dove went still. Her fingers clenched around her soda until the can gave a quiet pop.
“They all died?” she asked, too fast, too high. “Wait- did they say how?”

Her voice cracked just a little at the end, and Sayu didn’t catch it.
“Dude, no,” she said, flopping backward against a pillow. “I asked, but he wouldn’t tell me anything. I was like, freaking out- especially after the heart thing- and he just said it was his duty, or whatever. Some ‘uphold the law’ speech.” She rolled her eyes. “So weird.”

I couldn’t breathe. Not properly.

If Sayu knew even one more thing - even a name- this whole thing could collapse. Light would know. L would know. Everyone would know.

I shot Dove a look. It was brief, sharp. Don’t push it. Don’t react.

She caught it immediately. Nodded a beat too fast and stared back at the TV like she was hypnotized.

“That’s…” she said, too flat, too careful. “That’s crazy. They really need to catch this guy.”

Inside, we were both unraveling- thread by thread.

“You guys are never around though.” Sayu’s tone dropped a little, quieter now. “That’s probably why I forgot to tell you. I barely see you guys at school.”

My stomach twisted.
Sayu’s voice wasn’t accusing- not really- but it landed that way. Soft, almost hurt. Like we’d left her behind without meaning to.

I didn’t know what to say. What could I say?

That we were too busy committing crimes to hang out in the cafeteria?

Dove blinked hard, guilt flickering across her face before she forced a light laugh. “We’ve just… had a lot going on. Exams. Applications. You know.”

It sounded flat, even to me.

“We miss you, though,” I added quickly, trying to steer the mood somewhere lighter. “You’re literally the only reason we still know what joy is.”

Sayu snorted a little at that, but her gaze lingered. Searching. Like she was still trying to figure out what had changed.

Too much, I wanted to say.
Way too much.

“Wait- do you guys have secret boyfriends or something?” Sayu grinned, trying to nudge the mood back into something light. Her eyes flicked to me, playful but a little sharp. “Is it Light? Be honest. You used to write his name all over your notebooks, like a total loser.” She laughed, nudging my arm. “You’d find the dumbest excuses to come over just to see him, don’t think I forgot.”

“Oh yeah,” I muttered, voice dry. “My tragic middle school villain origin.”

Sayu snorted. I forced a laugh, yet something in my chest twisted.

Dove gave me a look, like she knew I wasn’t joking as hard as I sounded.

Light’s name felt like acid in my throat.

The night mellowed after that.

Sayu changed the subject- something about a girl in her class who got caught passing notes and how "it was so retro it was kind of cute." Dove laughed along, tossing in a few half-baked jokes, but I could feel her energy waning. The air grew softer. Heavier. The kind of quiet that settles over a room once the sugar fades and the lights dim.

Eventually, Sayu yawned mid-sentence and declared she was “literally going to die if she didn’t lie down.”

We cleaned up just enough to feel responsible, then rolled out onto the futons. Sayu curled up in the middle like always, hugging her bunny to her chest. Dove tucked herself under the blanket beside me, already half-gone. Her breathing evened out in minutes, soft and slow.

I stared at the ceiling.

The soft hum of the fridge in the next room. The tick of the old wall clock. Somewhere upstairs, floorboards creaked- just once. Light’s room.

I didn’t move.

If I sleep here, I might not wake up.

A dumb thought. Light wasn’t going to come down and strangle me to death- yet some irrational part of my brain refused to let me believe that wasn’t the case.

I checked my phone out of habit. No new messages. No alerts. Just the quiet glow of the screen on my face, and Myru’s shadow standing at the end of the hallway, her eyes already on me.

Still awake.

Always watching.

After a while, I got sick of it. Maybe I was just dehydrated- needed some water after all those salty snacks. 

I crept out of the living room on quiet feet, careful not to step on the squeaky floorboard near the hallway. The kitchen was dark, lit only by the faint amber glow of the stove clock. I moved by memory, reaching into the top cupboard for a familiar shape- my old mug. Faded white, with my initials in chipped blue paint. Sayu had made it when we were ten.

I turned the faucet on low. Water filled the cup with a soft rush, the kind of sound that shouldn’t have felt so loud.

The silence after was thick.

“You’re up late.”

The voice cut through the dark like a knife. I flinched- nearly dropped the mug.

I turned.

Light was leaning against the wall by the hallway, arms crossed loosely, posture casual in that deliberate way of his. His face was in shadow, but his eyes caught the light- watching me, too calm.

“Didn’t think you’d be here tonight,” he said, voice smooth, almost warm. “Can’t sleep?”

Behind him, Ryuk hovered near the ceiling, grinning like always, his wings hunched against the wallpaper. His shadow crawled along the tiles.

I swallowed and didn’t answer right away. The ceramic felt too cold in my hands.

“Yeah…” I muttered, my eyes drifting more to Ryuk than to him. I wondered if he looked at Myru the way I looked at Ryuk- a walking reminder of the threat that kept him from killing me.

“I’m cold.”

Light tilted his head slightly, a faint smile tugging at his mouth like it was just a casual observation.

“Not surprising,” he said lightly. “You’re barely dressed for it. My mom always cranks the AC at night.”

His tone was so normal, it made my skin crawl. Like we were just having a friendly chat. Like nothing was wrong at all.

“You really don’t have to look at me like that, you know. I’m not the villain here.”

The comment felt like a punch to the gut.

I didn’t answer right away. My eyes flicked toward the living room- toward the two shapes bundled in blankets, breath slow, undisturbed. Then back to him.

I didn’t want to drag it out. The longer I stood there, the more exposed I felt. But something itched at the back of my mind- something I had to say without really saying it, in case someone wasn’t as asleep as they looked.

But Light would know. He’d read along the lines.

“I’m just… on edge lately,” I said quietly, letting my words hang there like fog. “You hear things- about people dying. Innocent people. Like those FBI agents.” I paused, pretending to fumble with my mug. “If someone like that’s willing to do something that extreme… it makes you wonder who’s actually safe.”

His eyes didn’t waver. Locked on mine like he was trying to peel something back, layer by layer. It wasn’t just a stare- it was invasive. Intimate in the worst way. There was heat behind it, sure, but also something colder, meaner. Like he was waiting for me to flinch first. Like he already knew I would.

Then, he smiled. Of course he smiled.

“I wouldn’t overthink it.” he said flatly. Like a lie hidden under false reassurance. “You’ve always been close with our family. It’s only natural we’d look out for each other… isn't it?”

He said it more like a demand than a question.

I stared at him- barely breathing- understanding the implication.

“Yeah.” I finally choked out. “Of course we would.”

I didn’t say anything else. Just turned and walked, slow and deliberate, across the room. Myru watched from the railing, silent and unreadable, but I didn’t look at her. Not yet.

Light didn’t move. I felt his eyes on my back the entire way- unblinking, patient, like he could wait me out forever.

The kitchen light flickered off behind me. Ryuk stayed perched on the fridge like some omen in stone.

I climbed back into the futon, curling onto my side, back to the room. Back to him. I tugged the blanket up to my shoulders like it could shield me from the weight of his gaze.

I hoped Myru had seen everything. I’d ask her tomorrow. Maybe.

For now, I just stared at the shadows dancing across the ceiling, trying to will my heartbeat into something steady.

I didn’t close my eyes.
Not once.
Not until the sun came up.

Chapter 23: The Girl Who Worships Kira

Summary:

Pink pages, shopping lists, and secret codes. The second Kira wants a date. Unfortunately, Aria and Dove know who she’s targeting- and what happens to people Light doesn’t need anymore.

In the two weeks since the sleepover, life moved forward like nothing had changed. But underneath the surface, everything had.

L moved us again- another hotel. Brighter, colder. The kind of place that smelled like money and disinfectant. No open windows. No comfort.

We were gathered in the main suite, cables coiled across the carpet, screens buzzing low like static. L perched on the couch like he hadn’t moved in hours. Almost like a gargoyle. Matsuda fidgeted. Soichiro sat too straight. Aizawa looked halfway to leaving. Mogi was silent.

Light was next to me. Unbothered. Of course.

Dove sat on my other side, fingers twitching in quiet bursts. Myru hovered behind us, chains humming.

We were all just waiting for L to speak. The task force- the whole nine of us- gathered like sleep-deprived sardines.

“Two days ago, a package was sent to Sakura TV. It contained a diary, backdated to last year. The intention behind it is obvious. I’ll pass along the most relevant page- read it carefully.”

He passed it around. Aizawa frowned. Matsuda blinked too much. Soichiro didn’t move. Light’s face stayed glass.

Dove tilted her head, lips parted like the words didn’t make sense yet.

Then it landed in my hands.

A cheap spiral-bound notebook, fraying at the edges. The pages were pink-tinged and overly neat, like someone had tried too hard to make their madness look pretty.

I scanned quickly- until my eyes caught on the twenty-second. Then the thirtieth.

May 22, 2003: My friend and I showed off our notebooks in Aoyama .

‘Notebook .’ The word landed like a pin to the spine. She knew what that meant. What it really meant.

A few more entries followed- notes about some guy she liked, what he wore, how he looked at her once. A list of shops, a reminder to buy new boots. All fluff and sugar and emptiness.

May 30, 2003: We confirmed our shinigami at the Giants Game at the Tokyo Dome.

It was bait. Obvious. Deliberate. But not stupid.

The notebook reference wasn’t decoration- it was a code. A subtle flex. Something they were betting the police wouldn’t catch.

But I did.

They wanted to meet Light. On the twenty-second.

I said nothing. Just handed the notebook back, careful not to let my fingers linger.

L took it without looking at me, laid it open on the table, and scooped a spoonful of pudding into his mouth.

Chewing slowly, eyes on the page, he finally said, “Thoughts?”

Matsuda raised his hand like we were in a classroom instead of a murder investigation. Fingers straight, posture too eager. I didn’t even have to turn- Dove’s eye-roll was visible in my peripheral vision.

L, for whatever reason, indulged him. “Matsui.”

Like he was calling on someone who wouldn’t pass but needed a turn anyway.

Matsuda lowered his hand and leaned forward, voice too bright. “Should we go ahead and broadcast the diary? That’s what they want, right? It sends a message back- to both of them. Lets them know we’re paying attention. It could push the second Kira to act. Or force a meeting at the Dome!”

He looked around like he thought we’d all start clapping.

Aizawa didn’t move for a second. Then he exhaled slowly, arms crossing tighter over his chest. “Broadcasting this gives them exactly what they want. Whoever wrote it isn’t just reaching out- they’re performing. Every line is rehearsed. They want us watching.”

He nodded toward the open diary on the table. “Look at the way they frame it. The Giants game. The Tokyo Dome. They’re not just confirming their killing methods- they’re choosing a location. Dropping it like a casual memory, hoping we’ll gloss over it. But it’s obvious. That’s where they want to meet. Even if it said last year.”

Aizawa glanced at L, then back down at the page, brow furrowed. L hummed under his breath, acknowledging the comment.

I stepped in, careful. Just enough to seem useful- without giving anything real away. “The second Kira’s a girl.”

My voice was casual. Like I hadn’t known the second I saw the handwriting.

L’s spoon paused midair, just for a second. His brow lifted slightly, expression unreadable. “Interesting. And what leads you to that conclusion?”

Then he took another bite of pudding, like it was just a passing thought- not a hook he’d cast deliberately. My brows knitted together.

“No guy writes like that. The shopping, the crushes- it’s not just what they’re saying, it’s how . It reads like they’re trying to be seen a certain way. Emotional drama. Like they want Kira to notice them, think they’re... cute, maybe. Approachable. I doubt half of it even happened.”

I didn’t mean for it to sound bitter. It was just an observation. Detached. Analytical. That’s how it came out- how I thought it came out.

But Light was watching. Just for a second. A look that hovered somewhere between curiosity and threat.

He was always watching now. Like he knew I knew. Like it was a dare.

I shuffled in my seat under the weight.

“An interesting observation,” L said mildly, setting down his empty cup. “I reached a similar conclusion, though perhaps for different reasons.”

I shrugged it off as he continued talking, acting as if it was any throwaway comment.

But the more he talked, the more I thought of this second Kira. The more the idea crawled under my skin. It tugged at the hairs on the back of my neck.

“If we broadcast the diary, then we’ll also have to announce that the Giant’s game is cancelled.” L weighed his options, but my mind was elsewhere entirely. “If we don’t broadcast the diary, then the second Kira won’t act.”

Aizawa shifted his weight, arms folding across his chest. When he finally spoke, his voice was calm, but carried that clipped edge it always had when he was done humoring people. “If the game gets canceled, one of them might take it personally- and then god knows what. We’re dealing with people who kill to send messages. Disappointment could be enough to trigger a response. Or a slip.”

“That shouldn’t be a problem.” L interjected, spoon already halfway to his mouth, somehow armed with a new cup of pudding like it had materialized from thin air.

I stared.

How much sugar does this guy eat?

My face twisted before I could stop it- somewhere between disbelief and mild disgust.

“The second Kira seems to revere Kira. Let’s assume that he’s sworn to the Kira we created not to kill unnecessarily anymore.” He turned his spoon around in small circles. “Anyway, for now let’s broadcast the diary and announce the cancellation of the game. And also that we will be closing off the streets around the Tokyo Dome and conducting an investigation there. We received so much police cooperation during that Sakura TV incident, I believe we could manage that.”

Dove nudged my arm with her elbow- just enough to break my focus. I shifted slightly, catching her mouth the word bathroom without ever saying it aloud. Her eyes flicked toward the door. I gave the smallest nod.

L was still talking, voice steady and half-lost in another spoonful of pudding. No one seemed to be paying attention.

I stood quietly, keeping my movements slow and normal, like I wasn’t doing anything worth noticing.

The door creaked.

“Hey- uh, where are you two going?”

Matsuda.

I turned back, a neutral smile. “Bathroom. We’ll be quick.”

“Both of you?” Aizawa’s voice was low, sharp. Not a challenge- but close. Skeptical.

I switched gears, letting my eyes flick briefly to Matsuda as I softened my tone- just enough to land in that harmless, offhand register. “You know how it is. Girls don’t go alone.”

I added a quiet laugh, light and unbothered, and let the door click shut behind us before anyone could push further.

We reached the bathroom without anyone following. The second the door shut behind us, I scanned the corners- walls, ceiling, light fixtures. No cameras. No mirrors angled wrong. Clean.

I reached into my coat pocket, fingers brushing the cardboard edges of the carton. Pulled one out, lit it with a flick that echoed just slightly too loud in the tiled room. The smoke curled slow and thin as I leaned back against the counter, letting the silence settle.

Myru phased in through the far wall like smoke bleeding through concrete. Metal dragging. Eyes unblinking. Dove stood at the mirror, picking absently at a spot on her cheek, avoiding eye contact like it might trigger something. Her reflection looked more tired than she did in real life.

“So what’s up?” I asked, one arm crossed over the other.

Dove didn’t answer right away. She kept staring into the mirror like she was waiting for her reflection to blink first.

“I saw it too,” she finally said, quiet but sharp. “The Aoyama line. The sharing notebooks thing.”

She glanced over at me, then back at herself. “She’s not just trying to get Kira’s attention- she wants him. Like, worships him or something. She thinks it’s romantic. Like they’re soulmates just because they both have notebooks. Like she thinks they’re meant to be.”

Her fingers twitched at her sides. She bit the inside of her cheek. “What if he likes that? What if she says all the right things and plays innocent and suddenly we’re the problem? What if he doesn’t need us anymore? He wouldn’t keep all of us.”

She paused. Not dramatic- just honest. Flat. Frightened in that particular way Dove got when she didn’t fully understand what scared her yet.

“We have to kill her.”

My jaw tightened. I took another slow drag, eyes on Dove’s reflection instead of her face.

“We don’t even know her. Or what she wants.”

It came out quieter than I meant. Maybe just for me.

I straightened, flicking ash into the sink, forcing my voice back into something steadier. “Besides. Myru’ll protect us… right?”

There was a pause- then the familiar hum of chains shifting.

“I can’t protect you,” Myru said softly, in that same complex way I’d grown accustomed to. “But I can avenge what’s left.”

“Oh, perfect. That’s so comforting.” Dove threw up her hands, pacing a step back from the mirror. “Good to know we can sleep tight knowing we’ll be avenged. I won’t roll over in my grave while Light’s out there using it as a doormat!”

I didn’t know what to say. I wanted to help- but how do you comfort someone when you feel the exact same dread clawing at your own ribs? That same fear. That same quiet terror.

Was killing the second Kira the answer? Or just the first move in something worse?

“Wouldn’t that just put a spotlight on us?” I muttered, eyes fixed on the mirror but not really looking at it. “She dies right after we figure out who she is? L’s not stupid- he already knows Kira and this second Kira are trying to connect. He won’t see that as a coincidence. He’ll think someone’s interfering.”

I turned toward Dove, locking eyes with her. “And not just interfering- competing. He doesn’t want her dead. He wants her cooperating. Controlled. Useful. If we mess that up, we’re not just suspects- we’re liabilities more than we were before. And there’s only two ways that ends.”

I let it hang there a beat.

“L catches us and it’s death row. Light wanted her on his side and it’s a heart attack.”

Silence settled thick between us. My fingers tapped out a rhythm I couldn’t place- nervous, restless.

Dove didn’t answer. She chewed at the edge of her acrylic, sharp and distracted, eyes locked on the sink like it might offer a better idea.

She knew I was right. She just didn’t want to say it. She wanted a better way.

Myru had moved closer.

Not dramatically. Just enough to be felt. Like gravity thickening.

Dove’s shoulders twitched, but she didn’t look at her. Neither did I. Not right away.

“You weren’t always this scared of him,” I said finally, voice low. “Light.”

It wasn’t an accusation. Just a truth I’d noticed. A shift.

Dove blinked hard at the mirror, then finally turned toward me. Her mouth opened. Closed. She shook her head, like trying to clear a radio signal.

“I didn’t think he saw me before,” she said. “Back then, he was... up here.” She raised a hand, flat and high. “Too far above to care. He looked past me. Through me. You were the one he talked to.”

She bit her thumbnail, eyes flicking toward Myru and then quickly away again.

“But now he sees me. And I don’t think it’s a good thing. I did back then but I don’t now.”

That landed in the pit of my stomach.

“I heard you guys the other night,” she muttered, still chewing on her nail. “At the sleepover. The way he talks to you- it’s not the same as how he talks to me. If he even does.”

She shifted her weight, arms crossed too tightly now. “He looks at you like you’re some kind of- like, equal. Like you're dangerous. Like L.”

“But me?” Her laugh was hollow. “He barely looks at me at all. Not unless he needs something. And that’s what scares me, Aria. Because when he doesn’t see you as a threat, you’re not worth keeping around.”

She paused, staring at the sink like she expected it to answer. “I think he’d replace me. With her. With this girl who worships him, says all the right things, doesn’t ask questions.”

Her voice cracked just slightly. “I don’t think he’d even blink if I disappeared.”

Myru stayed silent. Still. Watching us both like she was waiting to see who blinked first.

I didn’t answer her. Didn’t know how to.
There wasn’t anything comforting left to say. Not when we were both thinking the same thing.

We stayed like that for a few more seconds- silent, still, the bathroom buzzing faintly with fluorescent hum and the smell of smoke clinging to the air.

Then I stubbed the cigarette out in the sink. Watched the ember die.

“I won’t let him. I’ll kill them both if they try.” I muttered.

“Come on,” I added, straightening. “They’ll notice we’re gone.”

Dove nodded, slow and hollow, then turned toward the door without a word. Myru didn’t move. Just hovered there, unblinking, like she already knew what would happen next.

“You’ll be there,” Myru murmured. “They always are.”

Whatever the hell she meant, I couldn’t dwell on it now. We stepped back into the hallway, the buzz of voices from the meeting room growing louder with every step. I rolled my shoulders once, like that would shake something off.

By the time we opened the door again, I had my face back on.
Dove didn’t.

“You two,” L said, shifting his gaze without ceremony, eyes settling on us as though we were the next logical variable in the equation. “You’ll accompany Light and Matsui to Aoyama.”

A little taken aback, I stiffened my posture. “What?”

“While you were gone, we decided to investigate each location mentioned in the diary,” L said plainly. “The four of you are the most likely to blend in with the crowd. You’ll pose as students, observe, and take note of anyone suspicious- particularly those who may be carrying a notebook.”

He paused, eyes settling on me with quiet intensity.

“There will be plainclothes officers nearby as well, in case that provides any... comfort.”

Everyone stared at us, expectantly. As if we had a choice in the matter. 

“Yeah,” I breathed. “Should be simple.”

Dove nodded beside me, her expression unreadable.

But nothing about this felt simple.

Not with Light watching.
Not with Myru silent.

Not with the twenty-second inked in someone else’s notebook- waiting.

Chapter 24: Smile for the Crowd

Summary:

They’re playing tourists in a crowded city. But Aria knows they’re bait- and someone’s watching. Maybe more than one someone.

The twenty-second crept up faster than I wanted.

It was too hot for May- thick air, warm pavement, sun in my eyes. Matsuda drove the four of us into Aoyama like it was nothing. Light said we’d be meeting his college friends for cover. He’d introduce me and Dove as classmates. Matsuda, as his cousin. Simple. Normal. Just four people out for the day.

As we stepped outside into the city, it was the kind of heat that made everything feel sluggish- skin sticking to fabric, sidewalk haze blurring strangers into watercolor. We stood just outside the café where Light’s friends had gathered, pretending this was casual. Normal. Like we weren’t bait. Like we hadn’t been sent here to smile and watch and wait for a murderer in a crowd of nobodies. Light adjusted his collar like it mattered, glancing back at us with that polished, easy charm he wore like a second skin. Dove clung to her purse like it was armor. Matsuda looked like he was trying not to sweat through his shirt. And me? I was craving the cigarette I couldn't whip out in front of Light, already regretting saying yes to this field trip from hell.

Light slipped into conversation like he’d been waiting for the stage lights. I watched him closely as he introduced us, taking in the smiles, the posture, the way his so-called friends leaned in when he spoke- like planets orbiting something bigger.

“This is my cousin, Taro,” Light said, tone smooth and just formal enough to sound effortless. “And these are my classmates- Azalea and Dahlia. We’ve been working on a few projects together. Taro’s new to Tokyo, so I wanted to show him some of the sights with us.”

They didn’t know. Obviously, he hadn’t said a word. They looked like normal, hard-working college kids- well-groomed, polite, unremarkable. A little too put-together. A little too clean. Nothing about them felt dangerous. Just safe. Predictable. Basic.

“He’s also single, by the way,” Light added with a practiced smile, voice light, almost amused. There was a teasing note to it- like he’d slipped into a version of himself tailored for public consumption. “Any volunteers?”

As they laughed, my eyes drifted to Ryuk- silent, looming, grinning like he was in on the joke. A reminder that this Light was a mask. Polished, popular, and perfectly fake. He wasn’t a friend to me anymore. Maybe he never was.

Ryuk stared back with those bulging yellow eyes of his. Maybe he knew what I was thinking.
It probably amused him.

Dove leaned forward with a grin. “He’s really observant, too. Like... freakishly good at remembering faces. It’s kind of his job.”

My stomach twitched.

“Retail,” I cut in, smiling just a touch too fast. “He used to work in loss prevention at one of those department stores. Now he can’t go five minutes without pointing out someone’s suspicious bag.”

That earned a polite chuckle from the group. Matsuda, bless him, just nodded like that was true.

Light didn’t say a word. But I felt his energy shift.

And Ryuk’s grin only got wider.

We melted into the city crowd like we belonged there- pointing out cafés, neon signs, train routes, tossing half-hearted jokes that sounded just real enough to pass. Light’s friends weren’t awful, but they weren’t exactly memorable either. Like people designed by committee. I couldn’t picture any of them once they left my sight. No habits, no flaws, no edges. Just silhouettes that happened to talk.

It made me wonder why Light kept them around.

Matsuda- Taro, for the day- was doing fine. Casual, smiley, harmless. Exactly what he needed to be. I caught him leaning toward Dove once, lowering his voice like it was a secret.

“Am I doing okay?”

She nodded a little too fast, all bright-eyed approval. “Totally,” she whispered, but her gaze never left Ryuk. He hovered like a shadow just above the pavement, smiling like he knew something we didn’t.

I watched her watch him. There was something strange in the way her eyes lingered- like Ryuk fascinated her in a way Myru never had. Not fear. Not even awe. Just... interest.

I didn’t know what that meant.

But we kept walking. Playing tourists. Playing bait.

My eyes skimmed the crowd wherever we went, slipping over heads and backpacks and sun-glinted hair. I didn’t know exactly what I was searching for- maybe a glimpse of a notebook, maybe some girl watching Light a little too closely. Someone out of place. But there was nothing. Just a blur of strangers, all blending into one shapeless mass of shoppers and students and wandering nobodies. No one stood out. Everyone looked the same. Too loud, too normal, too busy being nothing.

But then- just behind an ally- I spotted something.

Not something. Someone .

I recognized the hair. The build. That was Mogi from the task force.

Is he stalking us? Did L set him up for this?

I was sure I saw him- just for a second. Civilian clothes, tucked into the crowd like wallpaper. Mogi, for sure. Watching from the corner of a bookstore awning, just far enough to stay unnoticed by the others. But not by me.

I could’ve said something. Could’ve pulled Light aside, whispered it to Dove, made a joke of it even.

But I didn’t.

If I pointed him out, Light would pretend he didn’t know. Dove would get nervous. And Mogi- he’d stop tailing us. Disappear into the crowd and try again another day, somewhere I wouldn’t catch him.

Better to let him think I hadn’t noticed.

But part of me knew what that meant.

Of course Light was a suspect. That wasn’t news. I’d made peace with that weeks ago. But I should’ve figured L wouldn’t leave him alone with just Matsuda- not for something like this. If Light really did bump into the second Kira today, that was game over. For all of us.

So yeah, Mogi made sense. Quiet. Careful. Watching.

Not that L trusted Dove or me either. That part was obvious. But I wasn’t delusional- I didn’t expect trust from him. Not after a few months. Not ever, really.

One of the guys- Yuji, maybe? Dropped back to walk beside me. Hair too perfect. Smile too polished. He looked like the kind of guy who only flirted when he thought it made him look charming.

“So… Azalea, huh?” he asked, grin sliding into place like it was rehearsed. “Gotta say, you don’t exactly blend in.”

I just kept walking. Kept scanning the crowd, voice flat. “Oh, really.”

He took it as encouragement anyway.

“I mean, in a good way,” he added. “You’ve got that whole dark, mysterious thing going on. It works.”

I turned just enough to glance at him- flat, unimpressed.

And then Light’s voice came in, casual and clean. “If I were you, I’d keep my distance,” he said, just loud enough to carry. “She’s got that kind of face that makes you forget she’s dangerous.”

Everyone laughed. Even Yuji gave a sheepish chuckle, rubbing the back of his neck like it was all in good fun.

But Light didn’t look at him.

He looked at me.

And I knew that tone.

It wasn’t just a joke. It was a warning. Not to Yuji- for me.

Play the role. Stay sharp. Don’t get soft now.

I gave a little smirk, the kind that could pass as teasing, and kept walking. Didn’t say a word.

We paused near a street vendor selling matcha ice cream and yakitori. Dove drifted toward a rack of sunglasses like it was magnetic, her fingers grazing over the plastic lenses like they were diamonds.

Matsuda trailed after her, pretending to study the selection too.

"You know," he said, a little too loudly, "I used to wear sunglasses like these back in high school. People said I looked like a spy."

Dove glanced at him, wide-eyed. “Oh my god, you mean like Cool Spy? Or like Mall Cop Spy ?”

Matsuda blinked. “Uh… cool? Probably?”

She giggled, plucking a pair of oversized white-rimmed shades from the rack and holding them up to his face. “Try these. Total James Bond.”

He actually did. With more enthusiasm than I thought possible.

Dove stepped back dramatically. “Wow. So undercover. I almost didn’t recognize you.”

Matsuda grinned, clearly thrilled. “Really?”

Light glanced over, deadpan. “She’s joking.”

The grin faltered. Dove just smiled sweetly and whispered, “You almost pulled it off.”

Then she wandered off again, humming under her breath and still holding the glasses like a trophy. Matsuda followed, still blushing and pretending not to be.

Light looked at me, expression unreadable.

"Careful," he muttered, just under his breath. "He's easier to distract than you think."

I said nothing. Just smiled. Tight. Rehearsed. I was getting good at that now.

Mogi was gone. Slipped out of view somewhere between the bakery and the alley with the rusted shutters. Too far for comfort. I kept scanning for him anyway, half-hoping he’d resurface- half-hoping he wouldn’t. It was that kind of day.

The rest of it blurred- soft heat, hard silence. Uneventful, truthfully. But not calm. More like a string pulled tight behind my ribs, stretched past its limit, waiting for the snap. Not peace. Just restraint.

And then- something.

Across the street. A flash of movement. A girl.

She stood across the street, half-shadowed, gaze locked on Light like she’d been waiting all day. Too still. Too focused. Then- gone. Blink. Empty sidewalk.

Gone like she’d never been there at all.

I didn’t say anything. Didn’t break stride. It could’ve been a trick of the light, a shape I invented just to give the tension a name. Or maybe not.

We kept walking like nothing happened.

The sun dipped low, burning gold into the pavement. The heat softened into dusk, and the city took on that strange glow it always wore before night settled in for good. We looped back around, ending where we started- outside the campus gates, everyone lingering in small clusters with drinks in hand and sugar-sticky fingers. Half-finished snacks. Laughter that didn’t mean much.

“This was fun,” one of Light’s friends gushed, all sparkles and sincerity. “We should totally do this again sometime. It was awesome meeting the three of you!”

I smiled on cue. “Yeah, of course. I hope you liked the city, Taro.”

“Yeah, it was great!” he grinned, hands stuffed into his pockets. “Thanks for taking me out, guys.”

I needed that cigarette like a sedative. Didn’t care if Mogi saw. Let him think I was suspicious. I just wanted five minutes alone.

Even if he did tail me, he’d see that the most interesting thing I was meeting up with was my lighter.

I slipped around the back of the building, lit it up on the third flick- then paused.

Voices.

I crept closer, hugged the wall.
Dove.

She was crouched beside the alley, talking fast- breathless, giddy. “Do you sleep? What do apples taste like to you? Have you ever met a ghost? What happens if someone rips the notebook in half?”

Ryuk loomed over her, crouched low like he was listening for fun. Grinning wide. “No. Sweet and juicy. Yes. And nothing good.”

Dove’s eyes lit up. “Wait, really? Like actual ghosts?”

“Sort of. You wouldn’t like them. They’re whiny.”

She giggled. “I dunno, you seem pretty whiny too.”

Ryuk barked a laugh. “You’re lucky you’re interesting.”

“Lucky?” Dove grinned up at him. “You’re lucky I’m not scared of you.”

“Who says you shouldn’t be?”

She went quiet for half a second- then shrugged.

“You don’t scare me,” she said. “You look like you’d talk through a horror movie and spoil the ending.”

Ryuk tilted his head, still grinning. “I would. ”

I stayed behind the wall, exhaling smoke slow. Watched her chat with a monster like it was nothing.

And Ryuk? He just smiled.

Like he knew exactly how this ended.

By the time I circled back, the group was already dispersing. Sunset painted gold across the pavement like someone had spilled it from the sky. Light was laughing. Matsuda was waving. Dove was humming, spinning her sunglasses on her finger.

It all looked normal.

Casual.

Like we hadn’t spent the day pretending we weren’t bait.

But I’d seen Mogi in the alley.

And Dove talking to a god of death like he was a friend.

And the girl across the street with wide, too-knowing eyes.

No one said anything as we walked home. Just the sound of footsteps. And somewhere behind us, the faint scrape of something not quite human. Still watching. Still waiting.

Chapter 25: Check, Not Mate

Summary:

L calls Aria in alone. No Dove. No Task Force. Just her- and his suspicions. A name from the past resurfaces, and suddenly the line between paranoia and exposure feels razor-thin.

It was May twenty-fourth, and the silence was louder than ever.

Two days since Aoyama. Two days of waiting for fallout that hadn’t come. When the message arrived- L wanted to speak with me alone- I didn’t flinch. Not outwardly. But I felt it in my gut.

A weird, twisty feeling that crawled under my ribs the second I read the message. He didn’t ask for Dove. Didn’t ask for the Task Force. He asked for me . Just me.

I hated that.
Didn’t know what it meant- only that it wasn’t good. L didn’t do casual meetings. If he wanted something, it was for a reason. And reasons like his usually came with nooses.

By the time I got to the new hotel suite, I’d already spun through every scenario twice. Maybe three times. Had he caught me? Did he know about the notebook? About Light? About me? If he had, what then? Lie? Beg? Run? It wasn’t like I could count on Light to bail me out. He’d probably watch me fall and call it justice.

So I walked in. Sat in the chair across from him like I wasn’t sweating through my sleeves.

He was already there, crouched in his usual position, eyes heavy on me. The monitors blinked behind him, humming like they were keeping score.

No sweets today. Weird what your brain latches onto when you're trying not to spiral.

There was a pause- too long to be casual. Just long enough to rattle me.

Not curiosity. Not judgment. Just dissection.

“Thank you for coming,” he said at last- calm, flat, like he was reading a script. Like I’d just stepped into my own autopsy.

I decided I wasn’t going to beat around the bush. If this was just my paranoid head conjuring up something that wasn’t there, I’d rather know sooner than later. “So this isn’t a trap, right? Just a casual one-on-one with the guy I’m supposed to trust? Should I be flattered or concerned?”

If he picked up on the sarcasm in my voice, he didn’t make it known. He simply sat there, barefoot as always, hands loosely falling over his knees. "Flattery isn’t the goal. Isolation reduces variables. Though, your choice to frame it that way is interesting.”

He shuffled around in his seat a bit, maybe trying to get into a more comfortable position, though his posture didn’t change much. The silence that followed felt deliberate. Loaded. Calculated.

Then, finally, he spoke.
“Tell me about Aoyama,” he said, voice soft but toneless. “I’m interested in your impressions. What you noticed. What you thought was strange- whether or not it felt that way at the time.”

His eyes didn’t blink much. Just stared- steady, hollow, unreadable. Like I was something under glass. Like he already knew the answers and wanted to see how I’d lie.

I was aware that I was being analyzed.

“Well…” I stared, debating what I should and shouldn’t be saying to the detective sitting across from me. “I didn’t see anyone I’d deem suspicious. I did notice a girl staring at our group from across the street, but I didn’t get a good look at her before she got lost in the crowd.”

I thought about it a little more, and suddenly, Light’s words from weeks ago replayed in my mind.

If L backs you into a corner, don’t let your instincts take over. You’re smarter than that. Show him.

I straightened my back, slow and deliberate. If this was a game, I wasn’t going to play it from the back foot. I wasn’t here to fold.

“Really?” he echoed, flat but not disinterested. He tilted his head slightly- just enough to break the stillness, not enough to read. “That’s disappointing.”

This was my in. My offense. 

“I did notice something else that interested me, however. Though it didn’t involve the second Kira.”

L’s eyes lifted, slow. A subtle pause. Like a breath held between moves in a game.

“Oh?” He leaned forward just slightly, elbows resting on his knees, thumb grazing the edge of his lip. “Then by all means… share.”

“Mogi was there.”

I let it hang for a second. Let him sit with it.

“You had him tailing us. He was trying to stay hidden, so that means you didn’t want us to know.” I didn’t say it like an accusation. I said it like a fact. Because it was, and I knew that’s how L liked things.

L didn’t blink.
He just shifted slightly, gaze still fixed on me like I was a chess piece that had moved out of turn.

“Yes,” he said plainly. “I assumed you’d notice.”

Another pause.

“I was more curious whether or not you’d mention it.”

L shifted slightly in his seat, drawing his knees in closer. Not relaxed. More focused. “I asked Mogi to follow you,” he said simply. “Light is a suspect. But I assume you already knew that.”

I did, but I didn’t expect him to throw it out there so blatantly. 

I tried to keep my face neutral. “I suspected it.”

“So are you. And Dove.”

My spine stiffened. Not enough to spot, maybe. But I felt it.

He said it so plainly, like it was already written down somewhere. Like the only thing left was watching me react.

I didn’t flinch. Didn’t look away.

“That’s a bold guess,” I said, letting it hang just long enough to sting.

Then I shrugged- slow, unbothered, like I wasn’t calculating every word.

“I get it, though. Kind of. We’re convenient suspects, right?” My eyes flicked to his, steady. “Still… I’d love to know what made you say it out loud.”

It was a deflection. He’d know it. I knew he’d know it. But I wasn’t about to let him pin me without a fight. If he was testing me, I’d test him back.

“At the time, ” he said, tone monotone but precise, “I allowed your integration into the Task Force under the assumption that you and Dove were responsible for the tapes.”

He didn’t blink.

“You were close to the Yagami family. Proximity. Emotional ties. Unpredictable behavior. Above-average intelligence. Statistically, it made sense.”

I didn’t let my stance waver. No- more like I was frozen still in place. “So you let us in thinking we wanted to kill you? Did you not think if we were the second Kira that we’d just see your face and it’d be over, then and there?”

“Yes,” he said plainly. “I considered that. ”

He rested his chin on his knees, blinking slowly.

“But the second Kira is theatrical. They want attention. Recognition. Connection. Not silence. You didn’t kill me. Which told me something far more valuable than distance ever could.”

He didn’t stop there. Of course he didn’t.

“To be perfectly honest, I suspected you far more than I did Dove.”

I blinked, but said nothing. The hum of the monitors behind him suddenly felt louder.

“You’re impulsive,” he continued, “but calculated. The type of person who breaks the rules, not because you’re reckless- but because you’ve already accounted for the consequences. You’re emotionally entangled. With the Yagami family. With Light. With Deputy Chief Yagami. You also appear to have taken on a guiding role in your friendship with Dove. To me, it resembled a common pattern: a dominant and passive pair. One guiding, the other enabling. If one of you were to kill, you’d be the one holding the knife.”

It didn’t sound like an insult. It sounded like math.
Like he’d already solved for X, and I was just waiting for the equal sign.

“But you say that as if you don’t still suspect me. And I don’t see much evidence in what you’re saying.” My hands tightened into fists in my lap.

“I do, and there is,” he said, unflinching. “But my suspicion has dropped- roughly thirty percent. The second Kira appears far more… performative. Eager for praise. Submissive to the original Kira’s influence. You don’t seem like someone who takes orders well.”

He let the silence linger for a second, then continued.

“Though, if you were a third Kira- operating independently… that would make more sense. Especially considering the pattern of deaths around you. Hina Aoki, for instance.”

He didn’t move. “A long-term bully, from what I gathered. Died suddenly. Heart attack. Same month the Kira killings began.”

Another pause. Heavy.

“Coincidence?”

I didn’t flinch.
But everything under my skin did.

It was the way he said Hina.
Not like it was a guess.
Like a move. A hand sliding across the chessboard- straight into check.

The hum of the monitors behind him was louder now- too loud. My palms were sweating. My lungs couldn’t decide whether to freeze or race.

My stomach had dropped. Not a plummet- just a slow, sinking shift. Like standing in water and realizing it’s deeper than it looked.

Of course it was Hina. Of course he picked her.

Out of all the names. All the deaths. He picked the one I tried to forget the hardest. She deserved it. That’s what we told ourselves, anyway. Said it like a prayer. Like that would make it true.

But now her name was in this room, dripping off his tongue like evidence.

And suddenly I wasn’t sure if it had been justice. Or just convenient.

My jaw tightened just slightly.

“I’d say it is.” I said, too quickly.

Mistake.

I felt it the second the words left my mouth- too defensive, too fast. I was supposed to be calm. Detached. But L’s gaze didn’t break. It stayed right on me like he was watching a spider try to crawl off its own web.

I forced a shrug, tried to look bored. “Bullies die sometimes. Doesn’t make me Kira. Honestly? I always wondered if Kira did kill her, but that girl was a walking health hazard. Smoked like a chimney, drank like a dropout, probably did a few other things I don’t wanna picture. If it wasn’t me, and it wasn’t Kira, it was karma and a drug problem.”

But he’d already planted the thought. Already tilted the scale. He’d named the exact person I thought no one would ever notice. He didn’t even care about her. She was just a thread he pulled to see if I’d unravel.

And god, I could feel it- how close he was. How much closer he’d get if I slipped just one more inch.

So I leaned back. Crossed my arms. Smirked like it was all beneath me.

But inside?

Inside, I was already screaming.

He didn’t comment on what I said. Either it didn’t matter to him, or it wasn’t worth addressing. His gaze stayed steady.

“I asked to speak with you alone because you’re difficult to read,” he said, tone flat- clinical, not unkind. “That’s not a flaw. But it does make you... singular.”

There was the slightest change in his posture- not leaning in, not emoting. Just narrowing the space between silence and intention. “Dove would repeat everything back to you, word for word. But you wouldn’t do the same. You’d filter it. Reshape it. Use it. That makes you more useful. And more dangerous.”

The tension didn’t disappear, exactly- it just changed shape. Less like a threat, more like a game. The kind where neither of us wanted to fold first. There was something unspoken between us now, not quite trust. Just recognition. The kind that sharpens rather than softens. We were both here by choice, circling the same unknown, not because we had to- but because neither of us could stand not knowing.

“I think you’ve got the wrong idea,” I said, keeping my tone even, open, just leaning the side of honesty. “Yeah, I’m more confrontational than Dove, sure. But that doesn’t mean I offed Hina. I don’t agree with Kira. If anything, that’s why I’m here- why I wanted to risk my life on this. Because I want it to stop. I want things to go back to how they were, or at least… something close. Not some nightmare where one person gets to play god and decide who deserves to live. That’s not justice. That’s ego.”

It wasn’t even a full lie. Light didn’t get to decide how the world turned. He didn’t have that kind of authority- no one did. That was the difference between us. He wanted to rewrite everything. Start over. Play god. I just wanted protection for the ones who always slipped through the cracks. The overlooked. The forgotten. Not the whole damn planet. Not the Earth. That was insane. Delusional. He wasn’t a god. He was just a boy with a notebook and a messiah complex.

L didn’t push further. Didn’t chase the thread. Instead, he stood, slow and deliberate, like the conversation had been a formality rather than a search for truth.

“If you’re hiding something- which I strongly suspect you are- I’ll find out,” he said evenly. “But not today.”

I nodded, gathering my things and heading towards the door with a beating heart. “Thank you for your time, Ryuzaki.”

I didn’t say anything else. Just walked out like I hadn’t cracked open my spine and handed him my nerves.

But I knew what this was now.

L wasn’t testing for guilt. He was testing for limits.

And I wasn’t sure how many I had left.

Chapter 26: White Noise and Neon Light

Summary:

After the second Kira sends a message, the Task Force scrambles to make sense of what it means. Aria watches the case spiral and finds herself clinging to whatever fragments of normalcy are left- convenience store dinners, Sayu’s movie night, and Soichiro’s steady voice. But safety is always temporary.

The next day, we were called in again. This time, it wasn’t just me.
Everyone was there. The full Task Force. Watari’s voice crackled in from the speakers, and I wasn’t alone under the microscope.

I’d told Dove about the meeting the night before. Not everything- just enough to make her sit up straighter.
Enough to keep her from slipping back into that dangerous comfort I’d seen in Aoyama. The way she laughed with Ryuk like it was a joke. Like none of this could collapse on us at any second.

I told her we were suspects- her, me, Light- all of us on the radar. L didn’t have proof, not yet. Nothing he could act on. Just theories. Speculation.

She had stared at me a little too long after I said it. Her fingers twisted in her sleeves, her mouth opened, then shut again.

But she didn’t cry. Didn’t panic. Just nodded once and said, “Okay.” Like she was memorizing it for later.

That was good. That was exactly what I needed. Not a spiral. Not a tantrum. Just focus. Just enough fear to keep her sharp.

The group combed through the evidence like it meant something. Like we were piecing together a puzzle instead of staring at blank whiteboards. But there was nothing. No strange faces. No suspicious figures lingering at any of the three locations. No usable footage. Every angle we checked led to the same dead end.

No second Kira. No smoking gun. Just shadows and static and the sound of our own theories collapsing on themselves.

We were at a loss, and worse- we knew it .

Until Watari’s voice cut through the speaker.

“ Ryuzaki, Sakura TV has received a message from the second Kira. The postmark is the twenty third. I’ll send you the file over this computer first. ”

L reached for the laptop with that same uncanny delicacy he applied to everything- like the object might bite him. His fingers hovered for a moment, then tapped at the keys with mechanical precision, as if mimicking something human rather than being it.

The screen lit up. White static buzzed faintly, then parted.

And there it was- that name. Stark and sharp against the blur of noise. Familiar. I felt my chest tighten before I even read it.

“ I was able to find Kira. People at the TV station, policemen, thank you all very much. ”

I almost shot out of my chair.

What?
How- when the hell had this happened? I’d been with Light the whole time in Aoyama. He hadn’t said a word to anyone we didn’t know. That was three days ago .

Had they met up afterward? Behind my back?
How would she even find him in all of Kantō? How would she know ?

My eyes flicked to him.
Light. Just barely in my peripheral. Frozen. Eyes wide. Shocked.

Too wide. Too frozen.
No. An act. It had to be.

I couldn’t think the way I used to. Couldn’t take faces at face value anymore. Not when all of this- this entire game - was masks.

What mattered now wasn’t him.
It was us .
Me. Dove.
What the hell did this mean for us?

Aizawa actually did shoot up from his chair, the legs scraping harshly against the floor. His palms slammed against the table, rattling the empty cups. “‘Found him’? This is bad.”

Soichiro stood too, slower but no less tense. His voice was low, grim. “Yes… So Kira and the second Kira have joined forces.”

I might’ve believed it- if L hadn’t cut in, his tone flat and unbothered.
“We can’t be sure they’re together just yet.”

He didn’t even look at them. Just toyed with the string of his tea bag, fingers tugging it back and forth like he was tuning a violin. His eyes never left the steam curling up from the cup. “Until now, the second Kira had talked about wanting to meet Kira. Now she’s mentioning ‘finding him’. It’s possible that she has merely located Kira, but has not contacted him yet.”

He looked up now, glanced over at Dove and I, then at Light. Possibly a threat. Maybe a challenge. “I think that we can say that up to the twenty third, they have not joined forces. If they had, I doubt Kira would have the second Kira tell us that she ‘found him’.”

Weirdly, his voice calmed me.
Like actual, physical relief. Like my lungs worked again.

And then I caught myself.

Was I really buying into L’s reassurance just like that ? Was I that easy now?

No. He was L. The smartest detective on earth. I’d seen what he could piece together from nothing but scraps. It made sense.
Still-
Didn’t mean I had to like how quick I was to lean on him.

L took a slow sip of his overly-sweetened tea, the motion as casual as if he were reading the morning paper instead of planning a global manhunt. He set the cup down with a soft clink, unbothered.

“At this point, the police will have to send out a message directly to the second Kira.”

Matsuda blinked, eyebrows lifting like he wasn’t sure if he’d misheard.
“Message?” he echoed, puzzled.

“Yes.”
L didn’t look up. His fingers were already moving across the laptop again, rapid and precise. From where I was sitting- just across from him- I couldn’t make out the screen, only the dull reflection of his hands in the gloss of the table. “We’ll have the police offer the second Kira leniency in exchange for the identity of Kira. This will be even more effective if Kira doesn’t know who the second Kira is yet.”

L turned toward Soichiro, voice calm, almost detached.
“Asahi, would it be possible to offer the second Kira immunity for information leading to the capture of Kira?”

Soichiro shook his head right away, though a hint of disappointment passed through his expression.
“She’s killed at least eight people that we know of, so unfortunately we cannot.”

L nodded, shifting his attention back towards the group. “Then we’ll remain vague about that and offer as much leniency as we can. Something along the lines of that she’ll be treated as a hero and the police will not come after her.  I want this as soon as possible.”

His eyes darted to the clock briefly. “It’s seven twenty-five pm right now. Prepare for something to run on every station at around eight fifty-five.”

A quiet chorus echoed around the table- a near-unanimous, “Understood.”

No one said anything else. There was nothing left to say.

The meeting dissolved not long after. Sofas scraped back, papers shuffled, the soft clink of cups being cleared. We’d agreed to broadcast the police’s response- leniency in exchange for betrayal- and that was it. That was all we had.

For now.

The building emptied around us in slow waves- murmured goodbyes, the soft click of doors, the low shuffle of coats being pulled on. No one spoke to me directly. That was fine. I didn’t think I could’ve answered. I was beyond exhausted.

I followed Soichiro and Dove out to the lobby, my limbs moving like they weren’t mine. Light was just ahead of us, already pulling out his phone.

Soichiro glanced over. “Light, are you coming with us tonight?”

Light paused, eyes flicking up with that same calm mask he always wore. “No- I should head back and finish some coursework. I’ll grab a cab.”

Thank god.

I didn’t say it. Just kept walking.

We reached the car and climbed in, the doors shutting with a soft thunk behind us. The seatbelts clicked into place- a quiet, practiced rhythm. Light wasn’t here, which meant I got shotgun for once. Small victory. But lately, those were the only ones I could count.

The city drifted by outside in a blur of neon signs and blinking storefronts, all smeared against the windows like wet paint. The engine hummed low beneath us, steady and comforting in a way nothing else was anymore.

Soichiro cleared his throat softly, one hand resting easy on the wheel. He glanced over at us in the rearview for a beat before speaking. 

“You both handled yourselves well tonight,” he said, voice low and sincere. “I know this isn’t easy work, but you’ve been a real help to the team.”

Dove brushed it off with a half-laugh, something light and automatic. “We’re trying our best! Sometimes it's so hard to catch up with you guys.”

I didn’t say anything. Just stared out the window as that familiar weight settled in my chest- heavy and wrong. I didn’t deserve praise. Not when everything I was doing felt like a slow, quiet kind of betrayal.

“Still,” he continued, voice softer now. That same paternal tone he often dropped with us. “You’re not just kids anymore. It’s strange to see.”

I swallowed something bitter.

We hit a red light. Soichiro’s hand rested on the gear shift, his thumb tapping against the leather like he was thinking something over.

Then he said, “Have you two eaten today?”

Dove perked up in the backseat, caught off guard. “Uh… I had half a melon pan this morning? I think some instant ramen for lunch...”

Soichiro let out a tired exhale- more sigh than laugh. “That’s not enough.”

He turned the wheel gently at the next intersection, flicking on the signal. “There’s a konbini up ahead. I’ll grab you both something.”

I opened my mouth to protest, then shut it. I didn’t have the energy to argue. And part of me- the part I tried to ignore- didn’t want to.

We pulled into the lot a minute later, the harsh glow of the convenience store bleeding out across the pavement like a spotlight. Soichiro parked without another word. The door chimed softly as we stepped inside, fluorescent lights buzzing faintly overhead. Dove darted off ahead- straight to the aisle with the fruit sandwiches, like she’d been here a hundred times before. I trailed behind, the chill of the coolers brushing past my arms. My fingers closed around a spicy salmon onigiri without really thinking. Just something to hold. Something to do.

Not long after, Soichiro was at the register, scanning Dove’s pile of sugar and snack cakes with an expression that bordered on amused resignation. He glanced over his shoulder and beckoned me forward with a tilt of his head. 

“Did you find something, Aria?” he asked, voice even. “I don’t want you going to bed hungry.”

The register beeped steadily as he paid, the sound sharp in the quiet, too bright store. I stepped forward and handed over my onigiri, and he didn’t even look at the price before setting it on the counter with the rest.

It looked normal, felt almost real- but something twisted in my stomach anyway. A knot and something else I didn’t want to name.

When we stepped outside, he made his way to the vending machine just beside the doors, fishing coins from his coat pocket. Dove and I sat down on the narrow bench, wrappers rustling as we opened our food in quiet.

He returned a minute later with three cans, warm from the machine’s coils. He handed them out without comment. Mine was fruit tea- my favorite.

Of course he remembered.

“It’s not much,” he said as he sat down beside us, unwrapping a nikuman with steady hands, “but I hope you two know you’ll always have a place with us.”

I looked down at the tea in my hands, watching the faint swirl of steam rise from the opening.

“Thank you.”
The words came out quieter than I meant them to. Quieter than I felt.

I wanted to believe him. I really did.
I wanted it all to still mean something- the warmth, the routine, the way he said “us” like it still included me.

But people like me didn’t get homes. We got hiding places. And I couldn’t picture a world anymore where the Yagami house was anything but a memory I’d already overstayed.

We ate in silence after that. Dove kicked her feet lightly under the bench. Soichiro finished his bun, then dusted his hands off on a napkin like it was any other night.

For him, it probably was.

We got back in the car a few minutes later, the warmth of the canned tea still lingering in my hands as we pulled back onto the road. The city blurred by again, quiet and bright and unreal.

My phone went off.
Sayu.

Movie night at mine tomorrow! Dove has to come and you better too. Or else my mom will make her famous popcorn and I’ll eat it all! ;))

I stared at it for a second. Dove leaned forward from the backseat and peered at it, grinning. “Soichiro, your daughter is trying to blackmail us with popcorn.”

Soichiro chuckled under his breath- that quiet, tired kind of laugh only a parent could master.

“That sounds like Sayu,” he said, shaking his head as he turned onto the next street. “She never negotiates fairly, but she does take her movie nights seriously.”

I didn’t know how many normal nights we had left. But I wanted this one. Just one more.

I found myself thinking that a lot lately. And I wasn’t sure if it would ever come true.

Chapter 27: Static Silence

Summary:

Another message. Another performance. The tension between masks and monsters frays at the edges- and Aria is running out of room to pretend she’s not part of it.

The silence didn’t last.

It never did.

By morning, we were back under fluorescent lights, coffee going cold on the table, this second Kira’s voice spilling out of the monitors like it never stopped. It felt like no time had passed at all- like the night had been an afterimage, something invented. The warmth. The tea. Sayu’s text.

Gone.

Replaced by theory and protocol and Light pretending to be calm just a little too well.

And then there was the second Kira’s reply- fast, almost eager. A response to the police broadcast from the night before. I’d watched it when I got home. It was exactly what I’d expected: veiled threats dressed up as gratitude. A promise of cooperation that felt more like bait. Whoever it was- scared, maybe. Or just thrilled to be seen. We’d know soon enough, once L decided to play it for the room.

I was getting sick of the voice distorter.

We were waiting on Light. But not for long.

I couldn’t remember a single time he’d been late in his life- not to school, not to dinner, not to anything that mattered. I knew that wouldn’t change today.

When the door finally opened, I heard it before I saw him- that soft click, the shift in air.
And then he was there.

Something about him felt… different. Charged, maybe. Like static just before a storm. He moved the same way, spoke the same way- but there was a current under his skin I couldn’t quite name.

His gaze swept the room- calm, practiced- until it landed on me.

And stayed.

Just a second too long. Just enough to notice. Just enough to make my skin prickle.

Then, finally, he looked away.

“Hello,” he said, like it didn’t mean anything.

L didn’t look up. Didn’t acknowledge him with so much as a blink- like he hadn’t pulled me aside two days ago to tell me just how much he suspected him. Suspected us .

“Light. You’ve come at a good time. We’ve just received another response.”

Light slipped off his coat and hung it neatly, glancing back over his shoulder. “Again? That was fast.”

“Yes…” L reached for the remote, clicking it once. The monitor flickered to life, revealing that same washed-out screen I’d grown familiar with. “It says that this will be the final one.”

Well, thank god for that.

But the second the voice kicked in- warped and syrupy- I knew better.
This wasn’t over. Not even close.

“ I have decided not to contact Kira. I thank the police for warning me. But I will help Kira and rid the world of evil until Kira accepts me. ”

I blinked.
That wasn’t the response I was expecting.

Still, it made a weird kind of sense. Light never liked working with other people. Group projects were always beneath him- mostly because, according to him, everyone else was an idiot.

“ I will first pass judgement on the criminals that Kira hasn’t yet punished. And then I will spread this power to those that deserve it, and make the world a better place. ”

I narrowed my eyes. Spread the power ?

What the hell did that mean?

Were they planning to hand out pages of the Death Note like party favors? Just start tossing them into mailboxes and hoping for the best? Or was this second Kira full of shit from the start- all theatrics and no real plan, just playing god on a sugar high?

Against my better judgment, my eyes drifted to L- waiting to see what he'd do, what he'd say.

He paused the footage with a sharp click. The silence that followed felt heavier than the static.

Then he sighed- not loudly, but like the breath had been sitting in his chest too long.
“Seeing this…”

He let it hang for a beat.

“It makes me feel that Kira and the second Kira have joined forces.”

Something in my chest twisted.

There it was. Said out loud.

He didn’t sound dramatic about it- no raised voice, no panic. Just calm certainty. And somehow, that made it worse.

I kept my face neutral. I’d gotten good at that. But inside, every alarm I’d been trying to ignore was going off at once.

Of course Light stepped forward- like this was his cue, like he couldn’t help himself.

He asked the question I knew was coming before his mouth even opened.
“Why do you think so?”

L had a donut this time. He wasn’t eating it- not at first. Just turning it slowly on the plate with one finger like it was a chess piece.
“You didn’t feel it?” he said, eyes still on the donut. “I figured that you’d have the same impression, Light.”

It was strawberry-glazed. He took a small bite, almost like he was stalling, then went on through mumbled chews.

“First, after all that effort to meet Kira, the sudden one-eighty? Also…” He paused just long enough to make it feel intentional. “The thing about passing judgment on criminals Kira hasn’t in order to be accepted. Why wasn’t this done before? She just didn’t think to do it? Most likely, the person was told by Kira to do it.”

He set the donut down. “And Kira ordered that operation to be kept secret.”

I leaned forward a little before I could stop myself, the idea popping into my head just as quickly as it left my lips. “Unless the order wasn’t explicit. If Kira hinted at it, even vaguely, someone obsessed with him might interpret that as a command. They’d act without being told directly.”

It was a good point. One that would’ve helped him. But Light didn’t even glance at me.

“I don’t think that’s relevant,” he said smoothly, eyes on L. “We should stick to what we know.”

I blinked.
The hell?

Was that stupid? I didn’t think so. I figured it might shift the spotlight- at least a little- if they had met. Buy him time. Give him cover.

But he shut it down like I’d said nothing.

So either I was wrong…
Or he was just being a dick.

I scoffed under my breath. If either of them noticed, neither of them said anything.

“If what you’re saying is true, Ryuzaki, then Kira’s acting without thinking very much.” Light continued like I hadn’t said a word.

I shifted in my seat, arms crossed tighter across my chest.

“Yes,” L spoke, thumb resting lightly against his lower lip again. “Was the situation one where he wasn’t able to put much thought into things? Or does he want us to know they’ve joined forces to see how we’ll react?”

He paused, just for a breath, then turned his eyes back to the screen. The white glow lit his pupils like static.

“Though, this does make it even less likely that Light is Kira.”

I felt my stomach twist.

So that was it, then. Light got the benefit of the doubt- again.

Did that mean L was circling back to us now? Was that why he pulled me aside? Why he’d looked at me like he already knew something I didn’t?

Soichiro almost said what I was feeling, standing up from his sofa chair with a newfound vigor. “What do you mean, Ryuzaki?!”

“If Light was Kira, then I think he would have the second Kira threaten me to appear on TV again instead of sending a message like this. If we don’t know if they’re working together, then we’d just assume that it was only the second Kira’s doing.”

He thought about it for a second, then continued. “The second Kira could just say ‘I cancelled this the first time because Kira told me to. But now I no longer think that the warning came from Kira himself’. Or something like that.”

The silence that followed stretched a little too long. No one moved. No one spoke.

I shifted in my seat, arms still crossed, jaw tight. I wanted to say something- anything- but the words stuck. Not after the way Light had shut me down. Abrupt. Dismissive. Like I wasn’t even worth the breath.

I needed to figure out what that was about.

Light stepped closer to L- just slightly into his space. Closer than most people ever got to him. It was subtle, but it set something off in me. Off-balance. Eerie. Maybe it was just me.

“Ryuzaki…” he said, voice smooth.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were Kira.”

My nose scrunched. Was he being serious?

He only added on to his point- much to my dismay. “If you’re L, then I know L’s personality. No matter the threat, there’s no way L would appear on TV. And there’s no way he’d let someone else take his place. You would’ve definitely thought up a way out of it.”

I seriously wanted to choke him out. He had an out- a clean one, right there- and instead of grabbing it like a normal person, he went out of his way to make himself look even more suspicious. Like he couldn’t help himself. Like it was a game and he was bored.

And I was supposed to sit here and pretend this was fine? That he wasn’t dragging us both closer to the edge?

Clearly L didn’t seem all too phased. He simply turned his head around- slowly- with the ghost of a smile. “Heh, can’t get anything past you.”

I hated that. I hated all of it.

Because Light had just pushed the needle deeper into both of them- and L had let him.

And me?
I was just supposed to sit here and act like I didn’t feel the floor cracking under us.

That was my role now. The one I had willingly chosen.

Soichiro’s expression didn’t soften. If anything, it got tighter. He took a step closer to Light, jaw set.

“Light… Even if you’re just making a point- stop saying stuff like ‘If I were Kira.’ Even though I know you’re not Kira, it doesn’t sit well with me.”

I didn’t blame him. It didn’t sit well with me either.

Because Light didn’t even flinch. No guilt, no second thought- just that same calm, polished face he wore when lying through his teeth.
Like being trusted wasn’t something he valued- just something he expected.

And watching Soichiro defend him like that… like there was no doubt in his mind?

That part almost hurt.

“Yeah. Sorry, Dad…”

He dropped his gaze, voice softening just enough to sound respectful- rehearsed.

I’d heard that tone before. The same one he used when he got caught with a forged hall pass in middle school and still managed to walk away with extra credit.

It wasn’t real. It never was.

“Aria,” Light said, turning to me with that easy, practiced calm. “You’ve been quiet. Care to share your thoughts?”

What the hell?

After shutting me down like I was nothing- now he wanted to loop me back in?

I stared at him for a second, trying to figure out what game he was playing. My brows drew in before I could stop them. I gave him a look that said exactly what I couldn’t say out loud, but I spoke anyway. Maybe a part of me wanted to spite him. 

“I just think it’s strange,” I said carefully, “how quickly this message came after the police broadcast. If the second Kira doesn’t know who Kira is, she shouldn’t have anything to gain by responding so fast… unless she’s trying to prove something to him. Or cover for someone.”

“That’s a fair observation, Azalea,” L hummed, tapping his thumb against his lip.

“The timing is unusual. Desperation often reveals more than intent.”

Light’s expression flickered for a moment. A quick glance in my direction. A swift glare.

“Either way,” Soichiro coughed, clearing his throat, “Light wouldn’t ask anyone to protect him. That’s not the kind of person he is.”

“Yes… Light isn’t Kira. Or rather, I don’t want Light to be Kira, because…” L dipped his tea bag into his steaming cup, staring at it with tired eyes.

“I feel that Light is my first ever friend.”

My stomach dropped.

Not because of what he said- but because of who he said it about.

Friend.

L, of all people. The one who watched us like puzzles, who second-guessed every word out of our mouths- and this was the person he chose to believe in?

I looked at Light out of the corner of my eye. Calm. Still. Not even a twitch.

No, he was bluffing. He had to be. He knew exactly what to say. Exactly how to play it. This was L, not some highschool friend.

“Yeah, you’re a good friend to me too, Ryuzaki.” Light stuffed his hands into his pockets. “I miss you at school. I’d like to play tennis with you again sometime.”

“Yeah,” Ryuzaki turned over his shoulder, a small smile on his face. “Same here.”

The silence that followed was somehow worse than the conversation.

Just when I thought no one was going to move, Dove shifted in her seat and raised a hand halfway, like she was asking a teacher for permission.

“Sorry- um, not to be rude,” she said, glancing between L and Soichiro, “but Aria and I promised Sayu we’d go over to her place tonight. Movie night.”

It took everything in me not to laugh. Of course Dove would pick now, of all moments, to remember that.
Though, part of me was grateful to get out of there. I'd rather pretend everything was normal with Sayu than with Light and L playing buddy-buddy.

L didn’t respond, but Soichiro glanced at the clock and gave a small nod.
Aizawa stood, moving toward the door. “I’ll walk you out.”

We stood, collected our things.

Dove smoothed down her pink skirt with both hands, like it made the moment more official, then gave a quick wave to the room as we stepped through the door.

Light didn’t look up. L didn’t say goodbye.

That was fine. I didn’t need them to. I didn’t want them to.

The door clicked shut behind us. That silence had felt like static. This one, at least, felt like mine.

Chapter 28: Usefulness

Summary:

Popcorn goes cold. Misa arrives. Lines are drawn in silence and smiles. And Aria learns what it really means to be necessary.

The popcorn was cold, the plot made no sense, and Sayu was on her fourth eye-roll. Dove had slipped into that late-night delirium where everything was hilarious, even the horrible dialogue on screen. I was only half-watching, legs tucked under me on the couch, the soft flicker of the TV dancing across the walls. For a few quiet seconds, it felt like nothing had ever gone wrong. Like I hadn’t just come back from yet another lengthy mind fuck.

The door clicked open.

I didn’t look up right away. I figured the meeting was over, that Soichiro was dropping Light off like usual.

Then Sayu sat bolt upright.

“Oh!” she said, brushing popcorn off her sweatshirt. “That has to be Light.”

But when I glanced toward the hallway, it wasn’t Soichiro who walked in.

It was Light- alone. No coat. No briefcase. No father in tow.

And beside him, hanging off his arm, was a girl I had never seen before.

She was blonde. Blonde. Very blonde. Pigtails. Cropped leather jacket. A skirt so short I wasn’t sure it qualified as clothing. Her platform boots clunked like they had authority across the wooden floorboards.

She was laughing- no, giggling- about something, head tilted against Light like she belonged there.

Light didn’t look like he agreed. His posture was stiff. His smile, too neat. His eyes scanned the room- then landed on us. Sharp. Brief. Dismissive.

So did hers.

Dove blinked. “Who the hell is that?” she whispered, leaning toward Sayu. “She looks so cool.”

Sayu didn’t blink.

“That’s his new girlfriend,” she whispered back, eyes wide. “I think they started dating, like… a couple days ago? Me and mom aren’t supposed to tell dad.”

I froze. Time didn’t stop, but it sure felt like it tried.

Light had never had a girlfriend. Not ever.
He always said he was too focused on school, or some other perfect excuse he could hide behind. Back then, that used to crush me.
Now?

Now I just felt a sick sort of realization in my gut.

But the girl lit up, something unreadable flickering across her face as she clung to Light’s arm a little closer. “Hiii! You must be Aria and Dove, right? Misa Amane! That’s me! I’m Light’s girlfriend.”

There was a beat. Her head tilted. “It’s so nice to finally meet his… friends. You’re both so cute! Adorable.”

The way she said it rubbed me the wrong way. It wasn’t bathroom-small-talk-girly- it was sharper. Like she was sizing us up. Judging the way we looked, the way we moved. Like she already knew what box to put us in.

Light didn’t even give us a moment to respond. He placed a gentle but firm hand on the small of her back, subtly guiding her to the steps. “We’ll be upstairs.”

Then they were gone- and we were alone again, stuck in the silence they left behind.

The movie kept playing, but it felt like background noise now. Just flickering colors and bad dialogue filling space that suddenly felt too big.

None of us were watching.

Not after that .

“Sooo…” Dove started, staring at the empty space where the two had just been. “Do you think she’s like a model or something? She’s super pretty, she totally could.”

“Oh my god, don’t tell anyone but she totally is.” Sayu gushed, shaking her head with exaggerated disbelief. “We can’t tell anyone- because apparently it’ll screw up her career or something- but she’s been in a bunch of magazines and stuff. I was looking at them all last night.”

The two continued their conversation, but my head was spiraling. I couldn’t keep a single thought down.

A few days ago. They started dating a few days ago.

No. No, this doesn’t make sense.

She has to be the second Kira. It’s too fast. Too clean. Too fucking obvious.

Light doesn’t date girls like that- pigtails, fake laughs, the whole cutesy act. That’s not his type. And her voice- it matches. The diary. The tone. Everything.

L was right. They met. They’re in this together.

Shit.

I need to get Dove out of here. Fast. Before she says something. Before Sayu picks up on anything.

Just then- a voice.

His voice. Calling down from the upstairs landing.

“Aria. Dove.” He spoke like he was giving instructions, not offering a choice. “Misa would like to meet you properly.”

Dove tilted her head, one brow raised- confused, but not alarmed.

I, on the other hand, felt like I was about to be sick.

Still, we followed.

Because what else do you do when the devil calls you upstairs?

✢ ✢ ✢

She was already there when we walked in- perched on the edge of Light’s bed like she owned the place.

Light stood by his desk, too calm, too still, like he was pretending not to stage-manage the entire room. Ryuk said something to Myru- teasing, maybe- but it barely registered. Dove hovered near the doorway, uncertain. She didn’t sit.

I did.

Right in Light’s desk chair, close enough to feel the shift in the air around him. If this was going where I thought it was, then fine. I wasn’t going to be the one standing. I wasn’t letting us walk in just to be backed into a corner.

Misa played with the hem of her jacket, staring daggers at us. Her voice was sickeningly sweet despite the look on her face. “I’ve seen you two before… in Aoyama. You didn’t have lifespans above your heads. Just like me. Just like Light.”

I didn’t dare move. Not an inch.

I was right. She was the second Kira. She had the eyes.

I glanced at Dove.

Whatever dazed curiosity she'd had before was gone- wiped clean. The blood had drained from her face, lips slightly parted like she’d just swallowed the wrong thing.

Yeah. She got it.

She wasn’t charmed anymore. Not even close.

“They already know more than most, Misa. I’m sure they get the picture.” Light dusted something off his sleeve. “But we all benefit from being careful. Especially tonight.”

I swallowed something thick in my throat. What was this? What did they want out of us?

“You told the whole world about shinigami.” I breathed through my nose, trying to come off more dominant than I felt. “You mentioned the notebooks. Out loud. I get that you were trying to reach Light, but you could’ve blown everything. L’s already on our asses- you just handed him more ammo.”

Ryuk chuckled, low and ragged, like gravel grinding against itself. The sound rippled through the room, bouncing off the walls.

I didn’t look at him.

My eyes were locked on Misa.

Her expression shifted- first confused, then sour. Like she couldn’t decide whether to be offended or surprised. Maybe she didn’t think I’d push back. Maybe she thought I’d roll over like everyone else.

Her voice pitched upward, defensive and too sweet to be sincere. “I just wanted to help Light! Why are you making that a problem?”

It came out whiny. Petulant. And maybe a little desperate.

When I didn’t answer right away, she leaned forward- elbows on her knees, smile stretched a little too wide. “You two are so close with Light, huh?”

Her tone was light, but her eyes weren’t. “You’re pretty smart. I can see why he keeps you around.”

She let it hang for a second. Then, softer- almost sing-song:

“But if you ever tried to hurt him… or take him from me… You wouldn’t last very long.”

If Dove had been drinking anything, she’d have spit it across the room.

The silence was thick-  suffocating.

She let out a shaky laugh, trying to cut through it.

“Haha, oookay… creepy.” She waved her hands a little, like she was swatting the air. “I swear, no one’s trying to steal your boyfriend or whatever. We’re good. Super not interested.”

Misa didn’t flinch.

Didn’t blink.

Didn’t even pretend to believe Dove.

She was already leaning in again- the sweetness gone. What was left was sharp. Intentional.

“You know, if I ever thought you were getting in his way… I’d kill for him.”

Her smile sharpened at the edges.

“He’s my knight in shining armor. I’d do anything for him.”

I felt Myru’s chains shift behind me- faint but sudden, like even she clocked the threat.

Dove had gone stiff beside me. Silent.

And then-

“Misa.”

Light’s voice.

Not loud. Not angry. Just final.

She froze.

He didn’t look at her-  just spoke with quiet precision.

“If you kill either of them… you’ll die.”

No drama. No emphasis.

Just a fact.

For a second, I thought he’d brought us here to be threatened.

But now… I wasn’t sure.

Was that a warning to Misa? Was he actually defending us?

Or just reminding everyone what Myru would do?

Either way, Misa backed off a bit. Wide-eyed and pouty. No one spoke for a while after Light’s warning, but her eyes never left us. It was as though she was trying to see through Dove and I, see what kind of threat we posed to her newfound relationship. 

I should’ve seen this coming.

The way L described the second Kira- obsessed, desperate, worshipping Light like a god- of course she’d want him for herself.

Of course it was this kind of mess.

I wasn’t about to get Dove and I dragged into this shaky alliance. Not when our lives were already on the line.

I needed to stand up for myself. For both of us. Like I always did.

“Why should we keep quiet about this, Light?” I bit through the silence, cocking a brow. “You keep adding people to this little group of yours, Light. How long until someone talks?”

I crossed my arms tighter.

“It’s getting messy fast, and we don’t really want to be on the receiving end of that.”

Dove went still, but I knew she agreed with me. Misa only blinked, curling her fingers tighter into the blanket.

He turned to me- slow, deliberate.

Not angry. Just still. Too still.

His eyes were unreadable, and his voice- low, clinical- felt like it had been rehearsed in his head before he ever opened his mouth.

“If Misa were to kill either of you, your shinigami would retaliate. She’d die immediately. There’s no advantage in that. No one wins.”

He stepped forward just slightly, close enough that his shadow stretched long over the chair I was sitting in. The dim light from his desk caught in his eyes, making them gleam with something cold.  “And I know how to kill a shinigami. I know how far they’ll go, so don’t threaten me either.”

I matched his stare. Didn’t break it. Didn’t blink.

Dove slumped her shoulders, an unimpressed expression on her features. “So we’re all just hostages then.”

Light didn’t turn. Didn’t blink.

He just watched me, still as ever, the corners of his mouth curling ever so slightly-  a smile without warmth.

“No. We’re all necessary.”

Finally- he turned- just his head to look over his shoulder at the two of them. “And I don’t waste what I find useful.”

The silence that followed was stiff, practically suffocating. 

Misa muttered bitterly under her breath. “Fine, whatever you say, Light.”

Dove shot me a grateful half-smile. 

Light’s tone snapped the air clean.

“We’re done here. Go get some sleep. I’ll handle the rest.”

No room for argument. No hint of invitation.

I stood first. Dove followed, slower this time- eyes darting between us like she didn’t know where to land. Misa said nothing. Just watched us go with a sulk painted across her face, like she was the one who’d been wronged.

We stepped out of the room.

The door clicked shut behind us.

So that was the deal.

Stay silent. Stay useful.

Stay alive.

Dove was quiet as we crept back down the stairs. Still pale. Still shaken. Her shoulder brushed mine on the last step, like she needed to know I was real.

Sayu looked up from the couch, remote in hand, popcorn bowl balanced in her lap like nothing had happened.

“Everything good?”

I nodded.

“Yeah,” I lied.

“Just girl stuff.”

We sat back down. The movie kept playing.

But I didn’t hear a second of it.

My mind kept looping, over and over again- not on what had just happened, but what it meant.

She saw us in Aoyama.

She knew what we were.

And Light… he was willing to kill her for saying it out loud.

Chapter 29: The Devil You Never See Coming

Summary:

As rain beats against the windows, Aria and Dove spiral deeper into research, resentment, and doubt. The storm outside is nothing compared to the one growing between them.

The clouds hadn’t stopped crying since last night. It wasn’t the kind that let up, either- just kept falling in sheets, like the sky was trying to scrub something off the earth. It clung to the windows in thin, trembling streaks, blurring the neighborhood into a mess of shadow and light. The air smelled like old tea and rain. Dove was curled up on the floor with my laptop, legs tucked under her, surrounded by snack wrappers and scribbled notes. I lay beside her, staring at the ceiling while the storm tapped against the glass like it was waiting to be let in.

She read aloud from an old Misa interview. “Justice belongs to the beautiful,” she quoted, lips curling.

I didn’t look over. “Funny. That’s what I said the first time we wrote a name.”

Dove had come over under the pretense of helping me with homework, but that lasted maybe five minutes. We were knee-deep in Misa research by now. Sayu had mentioned she was a model, which sent Dove spiraling almost immediately- because modeling meant exposure, and Misa Amane wasn’t exactly subtle. She had fan pages, old interviews, paparazzi photos, blogs. Her face was everywhere. Public enough to be a problem. Loud enough to be dangerous.

Then again, Light wasn’t exactly the subtle type either. Maybe she was right- maybe they were a match made in narcissistic hell.

“You know…” I muttered, eyes still glued to the ceiling, but not really seeing it. “Sometimes it feels like this is all my fault. Like I’m the one who handed you the forbidden fruit and said, ‘Hey, take a bite.’”

She glanced over to me- quiet, with brown hair falling in front of her face. “Dude. What?”

I shook my head, dismissing the idea. “Nevermind.”

We kept scrolling in silence, the occasional crunch of chips filling the gaps. Notes were scrawled half-heartedly across the backs of old worksheets, barely legible. Then Dove suddenly sat up a little straighter, her eyes narrowing at something on the screen.

“Aria. Come see this.”

I scooted closer, leaning in over her shoulder. It was some old Q&A interview- Misa smiling way too brightly while answering questions about Kira like she was talking about her celebrity crush instead of a mass murderer. She went on and on about how amazing he was, how he was saving the world. I felt my stomach twist. It was less ‘public statement’ and more J-pop fangirl energy, like she was one heart emoji away from writing his name in glitter gel pen.

“Dude, she totally worships him,” Dove snorted, tapping the trackpad to pause the video. “Poor Light. He’s got himself a full-blown Kira cult fangirl. Tragic.”

I wanted to laugh, but the unease sat too heavy in my chest. If we found this stuff in under an hour, L probably saw it days ago- if not the second it went live. She wasn’t just public about loving Kira. She was practically handing herself over. And that made things a hell of a lot easier for him.

“Light was so damn confident yesterday,” I muttered, the memory crawling back like it wanted to settle under my skin. “Smug, even. He knows she’s like this. That’s probably why he’s keeping her close. She’s got the eyes. She’s useful.”

“Should we have taken the eye deal?” Dove asked, propping herself up with a grin. “I mean, yeah, creepy shinigami deal and all, but it would’ve made things a lot easier. No more name-hunting. Just a quick peek and bam- karma.”

“No,” I said, a little too fast. I let out a breath through my nose, trying to soften it. “We don’t need that. We’re not trying to be gods. We’re just... trimming the rot. The names are already out there. We’re not rewriting fate- we’re just nudging it.”

Dove opened her mouth to respond-
But my phone buzzed.

I didn’t look at it right away. Just let the glow sit there on the edge of my vision- until something in the text pulled at me. A name. Sharp and familiar. I turned my head before I could stop myself.

I didn’t want to see who it was. But my fingers moved before my brain caught up- muscle memory, bad habit, or both.

Light

I picked it up, opening the message in front of Dove.

She’s not nearly as sharp as you. Don’t bruise her ego too bad, though I doubt you can help it.

The silence stretched just a second too long. Dove let out a short breath that was almost a laugh. “Okay, wait- he’s obviously talking about Misa, but you think that little dig was aimed at me too?”

I didn’t look up at her, gaze fixated on the screen. On the message. “No. He was talking about Misa.”

“We literally talked about this, like, forever ago- he doesn’t see me as a threat. Wouldn’t shock me if that text was his way of killing two birds with one smug little message. He probably figured you’d be the only one to catch it anyway. You’re the one who actually calls him out on his bullshit.”

She tapped her fingers against the floor excessively. “But no- maybe it’s a good thing. If he’s not watching me- he won’t see me coming.”

I stared at her, mind racing. She wasn’t wrong- Light did see me as the threat, not her. But flipping the board now, this deep into the game? That was dangerous. Too dangerous. I inhaled slowly, steadying myself before I answered.

“I don’t think we should mess with it,” I said, quieter. “He’s already watching me- I can handle that. If he starts clocking you too, we lose the only advantage we have. Better to keep that card in our back pocket for when it actually counts.”

Dove crossed her arms, brow furrowed. “So what, I’m just supposed to stay quiet and play small so he keeps his eyes on you? That doesn’t sound like strategy- that sounds like giving up half our leverage for free.”

“It’s not about playing small.” I tried to argue, emphasizing my point with my hands. “It’s about controlling who Light watches and when. If he underestimates you, that’s our leverage. Real power doesn’t always have to be loud.”

“That only works if he never catches on,” Dove said, her voice quicker now, like she was trying to outrun the thought. “You’re betting everything on staying his favorite target- but what happens when he gets bored? Or decides I’ve been hiding something this whole time? He’s not an idiot, Aria. If he ever turns that spotlight on me, we’re dead.”

I exhaled through my nose, pinching the bridge as tension gathered behind my eyes. The worst part was, she wasn’t even wrong. I just needed her to understand why I was still right.

“I know the risk, Dove. But I also know how Light operates- or at least- I think I do. This dynamic we made has probably bought us time.”

Dove didn’t appear too convinced. She shook her head dismissively while her voice tightened. “Being seen as harmless doesn’t feel like power, it feels like I’m invisible. Like I don’t matter. I don’t want to just sit here playing backup for you and Light- I want to do something. He could get rid of me at any second just because I’m not useful enough to his creepy little ‘cause’ or whatever.”

Her words hit deeper than I wanted to admit.

Of course I didn’t want her to feel sidelined- we’d been dismissed our whole lives. That’s why we started all of this in the first place. But that didn’t mean she got to throw herself into danger just to feel seen. She wanted to stand out? Fine. But one wrong move and she’d end up dead- or worse, locked up and branded a murderer for the rest of her life. I couldn’t let that happen. Not to her.

“You think I want this?” My voice cracked, despite my best effort to keep it level. “I don’t like the way he looks at me. I don’t like knowing he’s already planning how to kill me every time I’m in the room. But this is the dynamic we have. And it’s better he sees one of us as the threat- not both.”

Dove scoffed under her breath, shaking her head. “You don’t get it. That’s exactly the problem. If we both stepped up- if we made him see us as a team, not just you dragging me around behind you- he’d have to recalculate. He’d see we’re more dangerous together. That we’re not afraid of him. Right now he’s playing divide and conquer, and you’re letting him.”

I stared at her, mind racing. She wasn’t wrong- Light did see me as the threat, not her. But flipping the board now, this deep into the game? That was dangerous. Too dangerous.

The conversation died off without resolution, tension still hanging in the air. Dove went back to scrolling, fingers tapping quietly against the trackpad. I stayed where I was for a moment, stuck in the weight of it all, then shifted toward the window and lit a cigarette, exhaling slowly outside the rain-streaked glass.

Dove suddenly spoke, breaking the illusion of calm. “We still want the same thing, right? Better people, justice for the victims. I only write names when I know it’s deserved.”

I blinked, glancing over my shoulder at her. “Yeah, of course we do. I don’t really write names as often anymore. It just makes me feel more stressed out.”

“Why don’t you just give it up to me, then?” Dove pushed herself up onto her elbows, still lying flat on her stomach. “Maybe Light would get off your ass if you didn’t have it anymore.”

I considered it for half a second- just getting rid of the damn thing- but the thought landed heavy in my gut. Not just dread. Fear. Not panic exactly. Just… the kind of feeling that makes your skin prickle, like you’re about to lose something you can’t admit you need.

I hated how fast I dismissed it. Like some part of me thought I needed it to stay alive. As if having that power made me more than I was. I wasn’t even sure who I’d be without it anymore.

Before I could answer, Myru cut in- unintentionally saving me from something I wasn’t sure I knew how to respond to.

“If she gave it up… she’d lose all memory of it. Of the notebook, the deaths, the deals. Even knowing it existed at all.”

I stayed still, quiet. 

Just for a moment before bringing the cigarette back to my lips and taking a drag.

I wasn’t ready to lose that. Maybe not ever. I would be too vulnerable. Too out in the open, and Dove couldn’t do this alone.

“Well, maybe we don’t do that, then,” Dove huffed, the words clipped. But she shifted fast, her tone going lighter as she smirked. “No way in hell I’m dealing with this Kira crap solo. I’d lose my mind in, like, a day.”

Dove smiled like she was trying to lighten the mood, but something in her voice stuck- too fast, too forced.

I gave her a look, one she pretended not to see.

We both knew this wasn’t funny. Not when one wrong word could get us killed. Not when people like Misa were smiling their way through murder on national TV. Not when Light was pretending to protect us with one hand while holding a knife behind his back.

That’s when Myru spoke, her voice almost thoughtful.

“You underestimate how fast masks slip.”

I flicked the butt of my cigarette out the window, watching the ember vanish into the dark, then shut it quietly.

No reaction. No comment. Just the usual poker face.

I stood, the room stretching quiet around me, and walked to the desk. My fingers hovered at the drawer for a moment before curling around the handle.

Inside, tucked between old receipts and ink-stained paper, was a single torn scrap of the Death Note. I didn’t take it out.

Just touched it- lightly, like it might burn me. Like I needed to know it was still there.

If he insisted on playing God, I’d be the devil he never saw coming.

Chapter 30: Do Not Inform Yagami Light

Summary:

Some mornings feel heavier than others. Aria starts the day pretending everything is normal- but ends it with proof that nothing is. The line between safety and surveillance is starting to blur.

My house had been quiet that morning. Not the peaceful kind- just empty. No groceries. No note. No mother.

Again .

And this time she just had to bring her cigarettes with her. 

Sayu had texted late the night before. “Come for breakfast. You know we’ve got food.”
She didn’t say because I know she didn’t come home , but she didn’t have to.

I’d had more meals at the Yagamis' in my life than I had at my own kitchen table. That used to bother me. Now it just felt routine.

By the time I reached their front step, the smell of miso and warm rice was already drifting through the door. I let myself in without knocking.

Sayu was perched at the kitchen counter, barefoot in her hoodie, slicing melon and strawberries into neat little triangles for her lunchbox. The radio hummed faintly behind her. Light sat at the dining table, sitting like he’d been staged for a catalog shoot in a crisp button-down and slacks, slowly chewing on an apple. Soichiro was probably already at work. Sachiko, I guessed, was out getting groceries- if she wasn’t, the fridge would be full by now.

The news murmured from the radio, something generic- finally a break from all the Kira talk.

“Aria!” Sayu chirped, leaning out from the kitchen with a grin. “Do you want some fruit?”

I slid into the seat across from Light. Whether it was instinct or some half-baked power move, I couldn’t tell. Maybe both. Maybe I just wanted to see if he’d flinch.

He glanced up- just once- from his textbook, then returned to scribbling like I wasn’t even there.

“Sure, thanks Sayu.” I finally answered.

Sayu came over a moment later balancing a plate of toast and fruit, each piece cut impossibly neat. She set it down in front of me with a soft grin. I returned the smile, small. She slid into the seat beside me, setting down two ceramic cups. Steam curled from the green tea as she passed it around, her sleeves brushing against the table.

Sayu shifted her attention to Light fairly quickly, mumbling through the bite of buttered toast in her mouth as she sat down. “You’re in your serious genius mode today. What, is your secret girlfriend stressing you out?”

He only offered a soft smile, his eyes not leaving the book. “I slept well. It’s one of those days where everything lines up the way it’s supposed to.”

My body stiffened a little on instinct, eyes narrowing. I didn’t comment. There was nothing to comment on , but the way he said it rubbed me the wrong way.
Then again, most things he said rubbed me the wrong way.

His eyes flicked to mine- just a touch too long- calm and direct. Like he’d heard something I hadn’t said out loud.

“You have a habit of showing up when things fall apart.”

His voice was calm. Almost amused. Not a hint of accusation. He even had that same smile on his face.
But it didn’t feel like a compliment.

My eyes darted to Sayu, searching her face for any sign that she’d caught it- caught how weird that was. That his voice sounded too calm. That he was looking at me like that. But she didn’t even glance up. Just kept humming under her breath, the same off-key tune from earlier, like we weren’t sitting at a table with a monster.

She popped another piece of melon into her mouth, chewing lazily, eyes half-lidded as though she was still waking up.

We didn’t say much after that. Sayu finished her fruit. Light went back to scribbling. And I just sat there, pretending this was breakfast and not some silent battlefield.

When I finally stood to put my dishes away, Light didn’t even look up. But I felt his eyes follow me anyway.

Sayu followed me to the kitchen, reaching over for her own cup. “Remember when you used to sleep over on school nights? Back when our dads were working together all the time?”

She laughed, light and teasing. “I miss that. Those sleepovers were the best. And I got to make you that mug you always used-remember? I had no clue what I was doing with pottery.”

I glanced at the mug in my hand- still a little lopsided from when Sayu made it in fifth grade, the glaze chipped on one side.

I used to bring it home after sleepovers, back when my dad and Soichiro were working cases together. He’d always call it my lucky charm. Said it proved I had a second home- just in case he didn’t make it back from one of those long nights.

He never said it like a joke, but I always laughed anyway.

That mug outlasted him.

He left like it was any other day. Same coat, same half-joke about forgetting his badge. I didn’t know the case they were working would end in gunfire. I didn’t know that’d be the last time I saw him standing.

“I wish I didn’t break the one I made you.” I gave out a half-hearted laugh. 

One that didn’t quite reach my eyes.

✢ ✢ ✢

School dragged on.

Not in the ‘God I’m so bored’ kind of way- more like every clock tick felt long. Too loud. Too slow. Like the whole day was running five seconds behind real life. I went through the motions. Took notes I wouldn't reread. Answered a question I didn’t hear myself say. My grades had dipped over the months- obviously- but I still tried. Pretended I wasn’t exhausted all the time. Pretended I wasn’t watching my own hands too closely when I held a pen.

Writing names does that to you, I guess. Drags something out that you don’t even know was missing until it’s gone.

By lunch, my head was full of static. I told Dove I needed to catch up on homework- half true- and ducked out before she could argue.

I just needed quiet. 

Something normal. Something with rules I didn’t have to guess.

A worksheet. A list. A space to fill in answers where there was only ever one right one.

I sank into one of the cracked swivel chairs at the back of the computer lab, the kind that creaked if you moved wrong. The hum of the clunky desktops buzzed around me, each one lined up in rigid rows like they were preparing us for some corporate dystopia.

This corner was my usual spot. Far from the door, far from people. No classmates. No whispers. No awkward hallway run-ins. Just me, a stack of half-crumpled worksheets, and the white glow of the lab's flickering lights.

I opened my English comprehension packet and smoothed out the first page with the side of my palm. The question was simple. Something about tone and inference. I already knew the answer. I’d known it before I even finished reading. This class always came easy.

English wasn’t something I had to think about. It was in the background of everything- our house, our arguments, the news channel my dad always left on. Even now, when I read the prompts, it didn’t feel like work. It felt like remembering something I already knew.

Most kids in my class stumbled over the readings, circling verbs like they were foreign code. But for me, this was the one subject that made me feel like I wasn’t completely behind. Like I wasn’t failing.

I scribbled an answer for question three, the ink bleeding slightly through the thin paper. My handwriting looked worse than usual. Probably because I hadn’t eaten much. Probably because I hadn’t slept.

I froze mid-sentence, pen suspended just above the paper, as the glow from the monitor beside me shifted. A soft ping followed- barely audible under the lab’s hum. An email window flickered open across the dusty screen. 

I hadn’t touched the mouse. Hadn’t even logged in yet. Maybe someone had forgotten to log out?

I glanced around. No one else was near.

I didn’t know what pulled me in- boredom, maybe. Or just that twitchy curiosity that always came when I wasn’t supposed to look. But something about it made my fingers itch.

I clicked the notification.

Sender: [Private - Encrypted Source]
Recipient: Aria Mordain
Subject: Task Force Briefing – Confidential

Message:
You are required for a Task Force meeting tonight.
Details regarding time and location will be delivered via secure channel.

This message will self-delete within 24 hours.
Do not reply.
Do not inform Yagami Light.

– R

I froze, fingertips hovering over the mouse like they’d been caught mid-crime. The air in the lab felt suddenly more suffocating, the hum of the fluorescent lights too loud, too sharp.

Without breathing, I clicked out of the window. Logged out. Shut down the machine. The whir of the fan died in my ears like a final warning.

I didn’t mention it for the rest of the day. Not to Dove. And definitely not to Light.

But I couldn’t stop thinking about it. Couldn’t stop the spiral.

Had L figured it out? Had he caught Light? Was that why we couldn’t say anything? Were Dove and I next?

I decided I’d tell her after school, when we walked home together- where no one else could hear.

✢ ✢ ✢

Eventually, the day ended. It dragged like wet cement, but the final bell came all the same. Dove found me at my locker, cheerful as ever. Her voice bubbled like it always did, bouncing between some story about Sayu’s new crush and a pop quiz she'd half-guessed her way through.

I nodded when it felt right. Mumbled here and there. But I wasn’t really there.

We walked the same route home we always did- past the vending machines, past the overgrown bushes behind the gym, past the rusted bike rack no one used anymore. Everything looked the same.

But it didn’t feel the same.

The email sat behind my eyes like a ghost. Every time I blinked, I saw it again. The words. The warning. The way it felt like a trap.

Dove kept talking. I kept walking. But my mind hadn’t left the library.

Finally, Dove squinted over at me, hitching her bag up with a dramatic sigh. “Okay, spill. You’ve been, like, weirdly quiet all day. Did Light say something creepy again, or are you just mentally dissociating into space?”

My eyes tiredly glanced over to her, then back to the pavement. “He did.”

She didn’t buy it. “... And ?”

“Did you get that email?” I turned to her, arms crossed. “The same one I got?”

Dove blinked. “What ema- wait-” She whipped out her phone mid-step, nearly dropping it as she fumbled to unlock it. Her brows scrunched. “Shit. Okay. Uh…”

She stopped walking. I watched her expression shift from confused to pale to very, very awake.

“Oh my god,” she breathed. “I didn’t even check. Aria, what the hell is this?”

I didn’t answer.

She looked up at me, phone still clutched in her hand. “We’re dead, aren’t we?”

“Not yet,” I muttered. “But we’re definitely being watched.”

We walked for a little longer, the tension lingering in the air. Dove gripped her phone like it might bite.

“What do we do?” she whispered.

I didn’t answer right away.

Because I didn’t know.

And that scared me more than anything.

Chapter 31: Like Moths to the Flame

Summary:

Misa’s been caught. Bound, blindfolded, and silent- she’s more dangerous now than ever. As the Task Force reels from the reveal, Aria and Dove find themselves backed into a corner, watched from all sides. Every breath is a test. Every word, a weapon. And when loyalty turns into liability, there’s only one person left who might have a plan to survive it.

The elevator doors slid open into silence. Not quiet- silence, like the kind that thickens before a verdict. No chatter. No rustling papers. Just the dull hum of static from somewhere inside the suite.
I stepped out first, Dove trailing behind me, and clocked it immediately: Light wasn’t here. His chair sat empty. His usual teacup was absent. Soichiro stood stiffly by the monitor, arms crossed. Matsuda’s mouth was pressed into a line. Aizawa looked like he hadn’t slept. And L- L didn’t turn to greet us. Didn’t even blink. He just said, flatly, “I believe the two of you should see this.”

And I knew.

Whatever it was, it was bad.

Worse than bad.

But we walked forward anyway. Step by step, toward the flickering light of the screen like moths to something that burned. My pulse roared in my ears, but I couldn’t hear anything over the sounds of my footsteps. Couldn’t think. Couldn’t brace.

And whatever I thought we might see- it wasn’t her .

It wasn’t Misa Amane, tied to a steel board like she was dangerous, like she was radioactive, blindfolded with pitch-black sunglasses, arms pinned together like an asylum patient.

It hit like a slap. Like a body dropping.

Dove gasped beside me, but I couldn’t breathe.

My lungs didn’t work.

“That-” Dove stumbled, eyes blown wide. Terrified . “That’s Mis-”

She stopped herself, but it was too late. L knew. The room knew.
They knew we knew Misa.

“O-oh- wait, I think we’ve seen her before... Like, with Light, right? That’s his new girlfriend or whatever? Yeah, that’s probably it.”

Her piss-poor attempt at backtracking didn’t fool anyone. Not the Task Force. Not L.

My eyes dared to shift in his direction- and I caught it- I caught the way he stared at her.

My blood went cold. Freezing cold. I couldn’t move.
I could only think.

How?

How the hell did this happen? How did Light let it happen? Did he plan it?

My chest clenched so tight I thought I was going to pass out.

We’re dead.

We’re dead.

L didn’t turn to face us when he spoke. He just sat there, one thumb to his lips, eyes fixed on the screen like it wasn’t even disturbing.

“Several strands of hair recovered from the videotape matched Amane’s DNA profile,” he began, voice almost clinical. “Fibers from her clothing were also found- specifically from a black pleated skirt and a white cropped jacket. Both were in her residence when we searched it.”

Dove stiffened beside me. I didn’t move. My nails pressed deeper into my palms.

“We also found cat hair on the tape,” he continued. “White Persian. The same breed she features in a number of magazine interviews. Even her garden contributed- pollen from a specific flowering bush unique to that location was detected on the envelope adhesive.”

He paused.

“Voice analysis was inconclusive,” he added after a beat, as if that mattered. “But the match in hand movement, posture, and height confirmed it. Amane Misa is the second Kira. There is an overwhelming amount of physical and circumstantial evidence linking her to the original Kira broadcasts.”

I couldn’t move. Couldn’t breathe. My eyes were glued to the screen like blinking would break something.

I wanted to scream. Run. Pretend none of this was real.

But I didn’t.

I just stood there- frozen, locked in place, as if the moment itself had teeth. 

Was this really it?

I snuck a glance over my shoulder, slowly taking in the scene before me. Aizawa stood rigid with tightly crossed arms. Matsuda shifted uncomfortably from foot to foot.

And then- there was Soichiro. He wouldn’t meet my eyes. 

Had L told him something? Told him that we were under suspicion?

I didn’t get a word out before L spoke again, slicing clean through the silence- probably noting how long we’d gone without breathing. “She has not spoken once. Not to deny the charges. Not to ask why she’s been restrained. Not even to request legal counsel. It’s as though… She's waiting. For what, I can’t be sure yet, but I expect I’ll find out.”

That gave me enough to relax my shoulders. Just a bit.

If we were going to be arrested, he wouldn’t have told us that. He wouldn’t have handed out details that worked in our favor.

Her silence- that had helped us.

A lot.

As long as she kept her mouth shut, there was nothing to connect the deaths to us. No names. No trail.

And she hadn’t said a word.

Which meant we were still safe.

Right?

Unless this was a test. Unless he was saying it to see how we’d react.

Unless he already knew.

Dove leaned in, her hand brushing against mine for only a second. Maybe to remind herself that I was still there. “This is freaking me out… Look at how they have her.”

I hadn’t planned to respond- I couldn’t if I tried- but Aizawa must’ve caught her whisper anyway. 

“You don’t have anything to worry about. Unless, of course, you’re Kira.” He crossed his arms. “We have to take precautions. Until we know exactly what we’re dealing with.”

At this, something snapped in Dove. She whipped her head around, eyes harsh and telling. “ This is necessary? For fuck’s sake, this is a small girl! What the hell do you think she’s gonna do, bite your head off?”

“You think I like seeing her like that?”

His tone sharpened, just for a second. “Then maybe you should be asking why someone that ‘small’ could be capable of this. We don’t know what the hell we’re dealing with!”

Dove’s voice cracked through the air like a slap.
Aizawa fired back without missing a beat, but before it could escalate further-

“Enough.”

Soichiro’s voice cut through the tension, low and commanding.

He stepped forward, gaze flicking between the two of them- between Dove’s shaking shoulders and Aizawa’s clenched jaw.

“No one wants to see her like this,” he said, calmer now. “But we’re not dealing with a scared girl. We’re dealing with Kira. Or someone who might be.”
He looked directly at Dove.
“I understand you’re upset. But we can’t afford to let emotions cloud judgment right now.”

I had fully expected Dove to back down like she usually did- especially in front of Soichiro- but she didn’t. She took an authoritative step, tone cracking slightly from desperation. “What about Light? He’s not even here- so what, he’s a suspect now more than before? You think he’s not gonna end up like that too?”

She motioned toward the screen. “Tied up, blindfolded- like some kind of animal?”

I couldn’t tell if Dove was defending Light or just trying to buy herself time- one last, desperate attempt to avoid ending up like the girl on the screen. Either way, something in Soichiro’s expression cracked. His features didn’t shift much- just a subtle drop in his eyes, a crease in his brow- but it was the kind of quiet collapse that made my chest ache.

“She’s right.” L interjected. “I have reason to believe he is the original Kira. Until further notice he’s to be treated as our prime suspect. Until Misa speaks, he is not to be allowed in or near our meetings.”

The room stalled- like someone had hit pause on the world but left the tension running. No one moved. No one breathed.

And Soichiro…

He didn’t snap. Didn’t shout. He just looked older, like the weight of it all had finally settled into his bones. Not anger. Not even shock. Just that quiet, hopeless kind of heartbreak. Like some part of him already knew.

But maybe he didn’t.

Maybe that was just me, projecting again.

I didn’t know.

I didn’t know anything anymore.

His voice softened. Quiet. “You think I wouldn’t see it if it were my own son?”

“You wouldn’t.” L on the other end was blunt. Straight to the point. “Not if he didn’t want you to.”

“Light has been made aware of her arrest,” L continued, his tone never shifting. “Officially, it has been filed under drug possession. However, he understands that she is under suspicion for her connection to the Kira broadcasts.”

Another pause, this one colder.

“He has not been informed of her current restraints or condition.”

I swallowed hard, but the bile didn’t go down easily. It clung to the back of my throat, bitter and burning, like acid trying to eat its way out. My chest tightened. Every breath tasted sharp, chemical, wrong.

Light knows.

What’s he going to do now?

What the hell can we do now?

Nothing? Just sit and watch as our tower of cards falls right in front of our faces.

I swallowed again. Thicker.

Aizawa stepped in- just a little. Close enough that I could feel the shift in air between us.

I flinched. Not visibly, I hoped. But I felt it.

His voice dropped low, steady.

“You holding up?”

It wasn’t gentle. It wasn’t kind.

It was a checkpoint. A pressure test.

I nodded before I even processed it.

He watched me a second longer than necessary, then turned away.

I watched him move from the corner of my eye.

He was going to be an issue too. He was way too invested in our reactions. Too sharp. Too focused. He wasn’t just watching the screen anymore- he was watching us .

And maybe Dove felt it too. Because a second later, her fingers twitched against mine.

“Can we-” she started, words cracking. “Can we go? Just for a bit? This is... a lot.”

Everyone turned.
Her voice sounded too small for the room.

L tilted his head slightly, eyes unreadable. Then he looked at me.
Just for a beat.

“Of course,” he said. “Take all the time you need.”

“ We just need air,” I said, before Dove could fall apart completely. My sentences stayed even, barely. “This kind of thing- it’s hard to watch.”

No one questioned it.
Not even Aizawa.

I grabbed Dove’s arm before she could say anything else and pulled her toward the door. She didn’t resist.
We left without another word.

Outside, night had already swallowed the sky. The streetlights buzzed overhead, casting that too-blue glow that made everything look a little sicker. 

Pigeons scattered at our feet as we stepped onto the curb.

I fumbled through my bag with shaking fingers, finally fishing out a cigarette with the grace of someone digging through wreckage. My other hand clutched my flip phone like it was a lifeline- as though I could dial some authority that wasn’t already tangled in this mess.

But I was the mess.
We were both in it. With them. Against them. I couldn’t even tell the difference anymore.

We sat on the curb, silent.
Fingers trembling.
Teeth pressed to lips, to cheeks- anything to keep the wrong words from slipping out.

 

“What do we do?” Dove finally choked out. “What if she tells them everything?”

I took a drag, the smoke curling in my lungs like something mechanical. I stared past the streetlights, past everything.

The cold wasn’t just outside- it was in me. Not fear. Not exactly. Just that hollow, weightless feeling that came after.

I couldn’t tell if I was terrified or numb.

“She hasn’t said anything. And if she’s as loyal to Light as I think she is, she won’t.” The words came out before I could second-guess them. I wasn’t sure I believed it, but it sounded right.

Dove pulled her knees into her chest. A lifeline that I could tell didn’t help much.

“ …Are we next?” Her voice cracked slightly. “She hates us, Aria. I saw it- like, really saw it. She made that pretty clear. What’s stopping her from selling us out if it gets her back to her little ‘knight in shining armor?’”

For once, I had nothing. No quick lie. No clever deflection. Just empty air and the sinking feeling that this time, I couldn’t fake my way through it.

“I don’t know.” I finally spoke, eyes glued to the glowing embers of my dart. “I don’t know what she’s waiting for.”

Dove didn’t respond. Her silence said enough- she was thinking the same thing I was, just waiting for me to say it out loud.

The smoke stung my eyes. Or maybe that was something else. I blinked it away.

“If she breaks,” I said slowly, “it’s over. Not just for us. For him too.”

Dove looked up, guarded.

“And?”

“And… he knows that,” I muttered, raking my nails against the seam of my jeans. “Light’s smart. If there’s one person with a reason to keep her quiet, it’s him.”

Dove’s brows furrowed. “You think he has a plan?”

I hesitated. The answer sat bitterly on my tongue.

“I think... if we want to stay ahead of this, we need to know what that plan is.”

There it was. The admission I didn’t want to say out loud. It hung there, sour and heavy.

“You mean… we need to talk to him?” Dove asked, like the words themselves were poison.

I didn’t answer right away. I just took another long drag and stared ahead into nothing.

“Yeah,” I said eventually. Quiet. Bitter. “We do.”

“Even if Misa wants to sell us out?”

I swallowed.

“ Especially if she does.”

We were running out of time, and fast.

I hated it, but we had no other choice.

Chapter 32: The Ones He’ll Remember

Summary:

They don’t ask permission this time. Aria and Dove go straight to Light- past the warmth of the Yagami house, past the false safety of routine, and straight into the lion’s den. Misa’s capture changes everything. With the walls closing in, trust turns toxic, and loyalty becomes a weapon.
But Light already has a plan. He always does.

We didn’t announce ourselves this time. No polite knocks. No warning. If he was planning something, we had to catch him off guard- if that was even still possible.

We didn’t go back to the task force meeting. We didn’t say goodbye. We left the hotel and went straight to the Yagami house. Straight to the place that made my stomach turn the closer we got. 

Because deep down, I already knew what we’d find. And I was terrified I’d be right.

But there was no avoiding it. There was no pretending what was right in front of us wasn’t real. We had to tough it out- had to brave yet another confrontation.

So we knocked on the door. We put on false smiles when Sachiko answered.

“Oh, girls! What a surprise- come in, come in.” Her voice was light, hands wiping gently on her apron as she peeked around the door. “Sayu’s out with a friend, but I just finished making dinner. Are you hungry? There’s more than enough.”

She smiled like she always did- soft, motherly, and oblivious to the weight we carried.

But we hadn’t come for warmth tonight.

“No thank you, Mrs. Yagami.” Dove flashed one of her bright, harmless smiles- the kind she saved for adults and tight situations. “We just wanted to talk to Light about something from To-Oh. Thought maybe he could help us study a bit.”

Her voice was sugar. Too much sugar. But Sachiko didn’t notice.

“Oh, of course! Good for you girls- so responsible.” She clasped her hands together, then gestured to the stairs behind her. “I’m sure your parents must be proud. Light’s upstairs in his room, go on ahead.”

I nearly said as if , but the words caught in my throat. Instead, I stayed silent as she disappeared back into the kitchen. Dove and I stepped past her, our footsteps ringing a little too loudly in the quiet hallway, each creak of the stairs tugging at my nerves.

Light’s door was closed. No sound.

Just before my knuckles hit the wood, Dove leaned in and whispered, “He knows we’re coming. He always knows.”

I glanced at her, nodded, then rapped my fist against the door.

I didn’t wait for him to let us in. My hand closed around the door handle, and I pushed it open without hesitation- like ripping off a bandage.

He was already at his desk, hunched over some notebook. For a split second, my heart jumped- but it wasn’t that notebook. Light would never be so careless. Just a decoy, probably homework. Ryuk was sprawled out on the bed behind him, flipping through a magazine with those long claws, holding it by the edges like it might burn him. The same way L held documents- like he didn’t trust what they contained.

Light didn’t bother to turn around. He just glanced over his shoulder, voice flat and unreadable.

“Took you long enough.”

I’d hoped to catch him off guard- just once. But of course, no such luck. Instead, I was the one thrown off, left with the sinking feeling that he’d already seen this coming. Like he’d been waiting, three steps ahead, smiling to himself the whole time.

He gave a casual flick of his hand, wordlessly inviting us to sit. I didn’t move an inch. Dove, of course, settled next to Ryuk like it was any other afternoon. For half a second, I caught her glancing at whatever magazine he was flipping through with those twisted claws, like she was actually curious.

I shot her a look sharp enough to cut.
Don’t get distracted. Not now.

She got the memo rather quickly, straightening her back and forcing herself to make eye contact with Light. “We’re not here to play chess, Light. They’ve got Misa.”

He raised his brows. Not surprise, something else entirely. I took my opportunity to add in. “L thinks you’re Kira, Light. You’re his prime suspect. So what’s your plan? Because if you go down, we’re not going with you.”

I expected excuses. A carefully constructed alibi. Some cold, flawless logic to reel us in. But he didn’t even flinch. He just turned back to his notebook, pen scratching lazily across the page like we weren’t even there.

“I have it under control.”

My nose scrunched. There it was again- that unbearable smugness, like we were just background noise. Like we were lucky he hadn’t stepped on us yet.

“Well, what is under control?” I demanded, raising my words just enough. “Whatever your plan is, we need to be a part of it. We’re stuck in this shit too.”

He looked back over his shoulder, then returned to his writing. 

“It’s better if you don’t know,” he said, not even looking up. “The less you’re involved, the less danger you’re in. You should trust me on that.”

If there was ever a moment I wanted to hit him, it was this one.

Whether he was being vague on purpose just to toy with us, or he genuinely thought we were liabilities not worth the truth, I couldn’t tell. Either way, it lit something ugly in me- hot and sharp and crawling up my throat like bile.

“Don’t shut us out,” Dove said, standing up- stronger than I’d ever seen her with Light before. Desperate times, desperate moves, I guess. “We’re part of this too. You can’t just keep us in the dark.”

“Then trust that I'm handling it.”

I didn’t sit back down. I didn’t just take what he was throwing at me. No, I needed answers. I needed a reason to keep fighting.

I took a slow, deliberate step towards him, narrowing my eyes. My voice dropped low, steady but laced with something sharper than frustration- a mix of hurt and warning.

“I’m not asking for your permission,” I said. “You don’t get to decide what I can or can’t know anymore. We’re in this together- whether you like it or not.”

He finally looked up, meeting my gaze with a slow, almost lazy smile- one that doesn’t reach his eyes. His tone was quiet but sharp, like a knife sliding out from behind velvet.

“If you knew,” he said smoothly, glare sharp, voice steady but carrying that quiet menace, “it would unravel everything I’ve arranged. It’s not about doubting your competence- my plan depends on secrecy. On everyone being kept in the dark.”

He paused, a faint, almost imperceptible smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

“But I trust you two enough to understand when the time is right. Some sacrifices have to be made for the bigger picture.”

Each time I saw him, his words felt colder, more distant- less arrogance, more like a chilling emptiness. I glanced at Dove. Her face had drained of color, pale and tight with unease. Before I could even ask what was wrong, she suddenly stood, her movement sharp and urgent.

“If you’re going to wipe your hands clean of all of this and leave us to get caught in the crossfire, at least say it to our faces.”

I’d thought about it before, but hearing her say it aloud sent a cold wave of anxiety through me. If he really planned to erase something- something we weren’t supposed to know about- then how could I be sure he wouldn’t just sacrifice us ? What if we were the ones he’d throw under the bus as the second Kira?

Almost like he’d read my thoughts, Light’s gaze slid from Dove to me- sharp, cold, and unsettling. His voice cut through the room, but it felt like the words were meant only for me.

“You really think I’d let them get to you?”

I paused. Swallowed. He continued.

“That’d be stupid- no- reckless. You could easily turn it straight back on me.”

“Then that’s not trust.” I cut through, folding my arms. “That’s control.”

He stared blankly for a second, like I was stupid.

“In what world do we trust each other, Aria? This isn’t about trust. This is survival. This is about reshaping the world- making it better for everyone.”

Dove stayed standing for a moment, eyes locked on Light’s unreadable face. The colour had returned to her skin, but just barely. Then, quieter:

“You say this is about survival. But survival isn’t just strategy, Light. It’s not about outsmarting everyone. It’s about who you’re willing to protect- and who you’re willing to let go of. And if you’ve already decided we’re expendable… just say it.”

He sighed, finally a sign of emotion- frustration. "You're making assumptions. I choose my words carefully- you should listen more closely."

“I’m reading between the lines.” She bit back. 

But beneath the surface, I saw through it all. That brave front was nothing but a mask- her eyes flickered with fear. Fear of what it meant if he truly gave up on us. Fear of the fallout waiting just around the corner, ready to swallow us whole.

She gave him one last hard look, voice steady but softening just a touch. “Light, don’t forget why you started all this. Because if you lose sight of that... there might not be anything left worth fighting for.”

Without waiting for a reply, Dove headed for the door. Just before stepping out, she glanced back and said quietly, “Meet me outside when you’re ready, Aria. I’m not walking away from this- just giving us both some space.”

The door clicked softly behind her, leaving the room charged and silent.

I stepped forward- quick, almost too quick. Instinct told me to follow her- to breathe. To remind myself I still could.

I reached for the handle.

Light moved- almost quick. Just a slight shift of his chair, the soft scrape of it against the floor, one hand resting lightly on the edge of the desk. Not blocking me outright. Just enough. Subtle. Intentional.

I stopped.

His eyes met mine- steady, dispassionate, utterly unreadable.

"You don’t need to follow her yet," he said quietly, like it was a suggestion. But it wasn’t. He stared at me as though I was already halfway gone.

My throat tightened. I didn’t answer, not right away. My fingers twitched at my sides, the ghost of adrenaline starting to stir. “What is there left to say? I just wanna see if she’s alright.”

“She’s emotional,” Light replied, calm as ever. “That kind of energy spreads. You’re smarter than that, Aria.”

“I’m not emotional,” I shot back, jaw tight. My eyes flickered from him then to the door, bottom lip caught between my teeth.

Light tilted his head slightly, as if studying me. “I’ve never underestimated you. You know that.” A pause, soft but surgical. “Which is why you’re still here.”

There it was again- that razor veiled in cotton. A compliment shaped like a threat.

I met his eyes. “Then let me go.”

“I didn’t stop you,” he said, and it was true. Technically. He hadn’t moved closer. Hadn’t raised his voice. But the space between us felt locked, caged by something unspoken.

Then, with that same unnerving calm, he leaned in- just slightly. Not enough to be intimate. Just enough to invade.

“If you ever cared about me,” he murmured, voice low and precise, “don’t start questioning me now.”

He wasn’t asking for reassurance. That would’ve meant admitting he needed it- something Light Yagami would never do. No, this was different. He was reaching into the past like a weapon, dragging out the part of me that once loved him just to see if it could still bleed.

I stayed silent.

Because giving him anything now would be surrender. And I couldn’t afford to lose. Not to him.

I caught the twitch at the corner of his mouth- barely there, but it told me enough. I wasn’t giving him what he wanted.

“You won’t betray me, will you?”

It wasn’t a question. It was a command passed down like law. A verdict disguised as trust.

But it wasn’t the words that rattled me.
It was his eyes.

They used to hold so much- intellect, calculation, even warmth when he wanted them to. There were moments, brief and rare, where I could almost believe he cared.

But not now.

Now they were hollow. Not vacant, exactly- there was too much behind them for that. But empty, in the way a locked room is empty. Something shut off. Sealed away. No flicker of emotion. No hesitation. Just that chilling calm of someone who’d already decided the ending.

He let the words hang.

I shook my head no. Faster than I thought I would. Faster than I wanted to.

Finally, there was something I recognized on his face. Something almost human. Satisfaction.

Then, he stepped away. “When all of this ends… I’ll remember who stood by me. There’s no place for betrayal in the world I’m creating.”

I didn’t look back. I slipped out of that room like it was burning behind me- no goodbye, no parting glance. Just the sound of my footsteps down the stairs, too fast to be casual, too loud to be calm.

Sachiko called something from the kitchen- warm, oblivious- but I only managed a half-hearted wave as I passed the doorway. My fingers barely lifted.

The front door shut behind me.

Dove was already waiting at the gate, arms folded tight across her chest, eyes scanning the street like she couldn’t stand to look back either.

She searched my face for half a second- didn’t need long. Whatever she saw there was enough.

“What did he say?”

I kept my eyes forward, the words sticking like grit in my throat. “Told me not to betray him.”

Dove let out a breath through her nose, jaw tightening as she stared ahead. “As if we even could.”

We didn’t speak as we left- because some things are too heavy for words, and some things were too scary to admit out loud.

Chapter 33: Days Without Sunlight

Summary:

Misa has started to speak.
But not the way Aria feared.
As her captivity stretches into its fourth day, the task force watches from behind glass while she begs for death and pretends not to remember a thing. Every word she says tightens the noose around all of them. And when L turns off the monitors, answers a call, and calmly announces that Light Yagami is on his way-
everything changes.
Because when Light walks in and says “I might be Kira,”
no one knows who’s lying anymore.

I woke before the sun. Again.

The world outside was gray, still blinking itself awake. But in here, everything felt sealed shut. Like time had stalled.

Four days since they took Misa.

I hadn’t slept. Barely ate. My body was drained, but my mind wouldn’t stop circling the same thoughts, looping them like static.

My phone buzzed.

We’re having miso and eggs. You should come.

Sayu.

I locked the screen without answering. I couldn’t sit across from Light right now and pretend I belonged at that table. Pretend I was normal. Instead, I sat up slowly, reached beneath my pillow, and pulled out the scrap. Blank. Heavy.

I stared at the paper. Just one name. My fingers twitched like they already knew what to do. Anything to stop feeling this powerlessness.

I didn’t even notice her until the air shifted behind me. Myru.

“He’s already three steps ahead,” she said, quiet and cold. “Are you just going to sit here and let him win?”

I didn’t answer.

Because I didn’t know.

✢ ✢ ✢

Another email. Another summons. Another slow, crawling dread I couldn’t shake.

What choice did I have? When the world’s greatest detective- the man hunting Kira- called, you went. You walked in like you had nothing to hide. You smiled just enough. You kept your lies tidy.

Dove and I moved through the hotel like we were trespassing. Every hallway felt too quiet. Every light too bright. The carpet swallowed our footsteps, but the silence rang louder than anything.

Room 208.

I opened the door, heart thudding.

They were already inside. Of course they were. No one even looked up- eyes locked on the monitor’s glow. Shoulders hunched. Coffee gone cold. Four days of watching, of waiting, of unraveling someone else's mind.

And now we were here to see what was left.

I sank into the couch beside Dove, the cushions sinking too low, too soft- like they wanted to swallow me whole. My eyes drifted to the laptop perched on the coffee table.

Misa’s face filled the screen- what little of it wasn’t covered by the blindfold. Pale. Sweaty. Her hair stuck to her temples in damp clumps. The grime of four days without sunlight or dignity clung to her skin like a film. She looked thinner. Emptier.

Drained.

L didn’t even glance our way when he spoke. “We’ve monitored Misa Amane continuously since her confinement. She didn’t speak for the first two days…”
“Only yesterday did she begin talking.”

Oh.
Oh god.
She talked.

My stomach twisted so fast I nearly doubled over. She had started talking- to them . To him .

Did she confess? Did she slip up? Did she say something- anything- that could trace back to us?

With her track record and his brain, even one wrong word could unravel everything.

“What did she say?” I managed out, trying to stop my words from cracking.

He glanced at me from over his hunched shoulder, thumb grazing his lip. “She’s been begging us to kill her… Repeatedly. It’s interesting. Even in such desperation, she’s revealed nothing of how Kira kills.”

A pause.

His eyes stayed on mine, unblinking.

“That kind of restraint... It's rare. Especially in someone who doesn't know.”

I knew what he was implying. My jaw clenched.

“That’s… kinda cruel,” Dove whispered, her voice barely above the hum of the laptop fan. She didn’t look at anyone- just kept her eyes locked on the screen like she was trying to see past it. “She’s been in there for four days, right? Blindfolded, tied up, begging for someone to kill her… and we just keep watching.”

Just as L leaned forward, ready to speak, the laptop crackled to life. Misa’s voice filtered through the speakers- thin, hoarse, unfamiliar after I hadn't heard it in a week.

It scraped down my spine like static.

“Mr. Stalker… please stop this… this is a crime.” She muttered, “If you let me go, I won't tell anyone.”

She sounded… genuinely scared.

The task force clustered around the laptop like it was an exhibit in some twisted zoo.

Maybe they’d gone numb after hours of watching her- just another part of the job, another subject under glass.

But me? I couldn’t shake the unease crawling under my skin.

She looked too small. Too human. And no one else seemed to care.

But I guess thinking that made me a hypocrite.

“Okay then,” Misa’s voice was becoming increasingly more desperate as she went on. “How about taking off the blindfold? I’d really like to see you.”

My eyes narrowed. Was she seriously pretending? Because if I didn’t know the truth, I might’ve actually believed her. That’s how good it was. How real it felt. Too real.

“What, does she think we’re all idiots?” Aizawa muttered, arms crossed tight across his chest. “Give me a break.”

Without a word, L reached across the coffee table and plucked Matsuda’s phone from where it sat. Matsuda made a faint noise of protest- half surprise, half panic- but L didn’t even blink. He dialed, put it on speaker, and set the phone down like he was laying a trap for all of us to hear.

“Mogi, when you apprehended Misa Amane, did you tell her she was suspected of being the second Kira?”

I heard his voice from the other end, its signature monotonousness seeping through. “Yes… As you instructed, I came up from behind, covering her eyes and mouth and said ‘you’re arrested under suspicion of being the second Kira.’ She didn’t resist me putting the handcuffs and eye mask on. She seemed to understand what was happening.”

L gave a quick, almost dismissive thank you and ended the call with a soft click. 

My fingers picked at each other in my lap, restless and doubtful. I couldn’t shake the feeling that something wasn’t adding up- or worse, that I was already behind. “Then… Why is she acting like this?”

L didn’t even glance my way. He just brought the mic to his lips, thumb pressing the voice button with a sharp, deliberate click. His eyes locked onto the screen- unblinking, surgical, like he was about to dissect her.

“Misa Amane.”

“What? Mr. Stalker? You’re going to let me go?” Misa’s voice crackled through the audio- high, trembling, confused.

L didn’t flinch. “Before you went to sleep, you were almost completely silent before asking us to kill you. Yet now you’re playing coy?”

“What are you talking about?” she snapped. “You’re the stalker who knocked me out and brought me here. What? You wanna play some kind of examination game or something…?”

Silence. The kind that creeps in like smoke.

L’s voice stayed even. “Why are you tied up there right now?”

“Huh? Why…? Maybe because I’m an idol?” She gave a breathy, nervous laugh. “I’ve never heard of a stalker going this far, though.”

I wanted to scream at her- stop pretending. But it was obvious why that would be a bad choice. Still, I bit my tongue.

Without warning, Matsuda’s hand shot out, snatching the mic off the table. His voice cracked through the room- louder, sharper, rawer than I’d ever heard.

“Enough! Amane, stop messing around!”

She shrieked, shrinking back and trembling in her restraints. “I… I’m scared… Please stop this… Let me go! Let me go!”

Dove couldn’t bear to look anymore. She twisted away, jaw tight, eyes clenched so hard it looked like she was trying to block out the world itself. I swear, if it weren’t so damn awkward, she’d have covered her ears too.

“Oh yeah… the bathroom… I need to go…” Misa stuttered, wiggling to play up the performance.

L’s voice cut through the tension. "It's only been five minutes since you last went to the bathroom. Please hold it in."

Misa’s voice cracked with panic, the desperation sharp and raw. "But that’s the only time you untie me! Let me go! Let me go! You get to see me pee again, isn’t that what you want?! YOU PERVERT!"

I felt a sick twist in my stomach. Most people my age were sitting in classrooms right now, maybe bored or daydreaming. And here I was- watching this girl being torn apart, piece by piece.

L didn’t relent. He pressed on, his tone cold but deliberate.
“Amane… Let’s seriously talk about what we were discussing before you passed out. Do you know Light Yagami? Why did you approach him? We know you’ve met with him several times. You’re going to keep denying that?”

There it was. The question I’d been dreading.

Misa’s voice faltered for a moment, then came the confession. “Huh? Of course I know my boyfriend… But how did you know that? You’re good. Though, not as good as Light.”

No sooner had Misa’s words hung in the air than L’s phone buzzed sharply against the table. Without breaking his gaze, he fumbled into his jeans pocket and pulled out his flip phone, holding it up like a silent challenge.

Calm but firm, his voice cut through the room. “Turn off Misa’s visuals and audio.”

The screen went dark. I shifted uneasily and did as he instructed, the sudden silence feeling heavier than before.

L didn’t answer on speaker this time. Instead, he brought the phone close to his ear, eyes narrowing with a sharp, unreadable expression.

He murmured quiet affirmations- nothing more. His face stayed unreadable, giving away nothing about the conversation. Then, almost casually, he slipped out a room number and location. Without another word, he ended the call, the soft click of the phone hanging up echoing in the tense silence.

“Who was that?” Soichiro asked, hesitant.

L didn’t move, his tone expressionless. “Light Yagami.”

Light Yagami.

The name hit me like a punch to the gut, the room suddenly feeling too small, too tight. My heart slammed against my ribs like a warning drum- what the hell was he doing? What did he want?

Was this it? The thing he didn’t trust us with?

Soichiro rose slowly, like his body weighed more than it should. His face was a mess of contradictions- creases of grief pulled at his brow, but there was something else there, too. Fear, maybe. The kind you try to hide but can't quite smother. It twisted his features into something I barely recognized. Not the strong, composed officer. Just a father. One who looked like he was about to lose his son.

“My son’s coming?”

Dove perked up, suddenly alarmed. “But… Isn’t Light banned from meetings?”

“Yes,” L said calmly, brushing crumbs from his lip. “But I’m interested in what he proposed.”

He didn’t flinch. He just cut another neat piece of cake and brought it to his mouth like nothing had changed. I watched him chew slowly, thoughtfully, as if the sugar mattered more than the dread twisting in the room.

“I’ll, uh- I’ll go get him.” Matsuda’s voice cracked mid-sentence as he fumbled for the door. He didn’t wait for a response. Just backed out and slipped into the hallway, leaving the door ajar like some invisible pressure had blown it open.

No one spoke.

Soichiro sat hunched forward, hands clasped too tight, sweat glistening along his hairline. Dove was twisting a strand of hair around her finger so tightly it looked like she might rip it out. And me- I was stone. Rigid in my seat, eyes locked on that doorway like it might swallow me whole.

My whole body screamed run . My brain pulsed with names- their names. I could end this. Right now. Before he even stepped inside. All it would take was ink, pressure, resolve.

But I didn’t move.

I just waited.

Waited for Light to walk in and turn this meeting room into a battlefield.

The seconds stretched. Long enough to hear the hum of the air conditioning. Long enough for someone to cough. Long enough for me to picture what I'd do if he walked in smiling.

The door creaked.

Footsteps. Slow, careful ones.

Then he appeared- tall, polished, unbothered. He didn’t look at all as nervous as the room felt on his arrival. Like he wasn’t walking straight into enemy territory.

“Ryuzaki…” His voice was low, almost reverent- tinged with something that sounded too much like regret. “Like I said on the phone…”

A pause.

Then, calm as anything:

“I might be Kira.”

Chapter 34: The Confession That Wasn’t

Summary:

Light says the words: “I might be Kira.”
And suddenly, everything breaks.

The room fractures under the weight of his supposed guilt- real or rehearsed, no one can tell. Aria can’t move without risking exposure. Dove can’t breathe. Soichiro is crumbling, L is watching, and Light…
Light is stepping forward with open wrists and hollow eyes, offering himself up for confinement.
But Aria knows him too well.
This isn’t surrender.

“I might be Kira.”

The words didn’t make sense at first. They just… hung there. Warped, delayed. Like I’d heard them underwater.

My brain didn’t move. My lungs forgot how. Everything in me stalled- except for the pounding behind my ribs, sudden and deafening.

He said it. He actually said it.

I couldn’t look at anyone. Couldn’t speak. Couldn’t let it show.

Because if I moved wrong- if I flinched or gasped or went too still- someone would see it. Someone would know.

My breathing slammed against my skull, loud and ragged. The room tilted. For a second, I thought I was going to pass out.

But I didn’t.

I just sat there, locked in place, watching the world smear at the edges like a dream going wrong. My body wasn’t mine. Nothing felt real.

Soichiro’s voice cut through the haze- sharp, panicked, raw. “It can’t be! What are you saying, Light?!”

He lunged toward his son, grabbing him by the shoulders, shaking him hard like he could shake the words out of him. “Have you lost it?! Please snap out of it, Light! Answer me!”

Light didn’t look up. His eyes stayed on the floor, mouth clamped shut.

I tried to breathe, but the air caught halfway down and stuck. It scraped my throat raw. I coughed- sharp, loud, too loud.

The whole room turned.

I froze. Couldn’t move. Couldn’t even flinch. Every muscle locked, and I sat there like a statue barely holding together.

Matsuda’s brow furrowed, his voice too gentle. “Are you okay, Aria? I know this is a lot- ”

I shook my head fast, still choking. “It’s nothing.”

Too fast. Too fake. But it was all I had.

I didn’t dare look at Light.

He can’t mean it. He doesn’t mean it.

He’s performing. Testing the room. Testing me.

But it felt real. Too real. And that terrified me.

He hadn’t flinched. Hadn’t stammered. His voice hadn’t even cracked.

Light stood there like he’d rehearsed this- still, careful, composed. Not cold, exactly. Just… detached. His eyes stayed low. His voice was even.

And then, softly, “Dad… If Ryuzaki is L, then he’s undeniably the best detective in the world. If L has decided that I’m Kira, I probably am.”

I fought the urge to throw up.

Soichiro was stunned, mouth trapped agape and hands still stuck to Light’s shoulders. “What..? What are you saying, Light?!”

Light’s gaze shifted- slow, deliberate- toward L, still curled in that ridiculous crouch on the couch. The rest of the room followed, heads turning like a wave pulling toward shore.

L just glanced back, expression blank as a board. “Yes, it’s true. In my mind Light is most definitely Kira, and thus I’ll probably be questioning him soon.”

My heart pounded relentlessly against my ribs, the tight feeling in my chest only getting worse the more they talked. I really wanted to beg Light to shut up- even shove my hand over my mouth if I had to- but it was too idealistic for the situation I was forced in.

Light- despite every silent plea screaming in my head- kept talking. Fronting repentance and guilt. Like he was laying out evidence for someone else’s trial, not his own. He was walking them, step by step, toward the only conclusion they couldn’t afford to believe.
Toward himself.
Toward Kira.
Towards us .

“The people that FBI agent Raye Penber was investigating before he died… People that went to Aoyama on the 22nd… And the person that second Kira suspect Misa approached after coming to Tokyo… It all points to me. If I was in L’s position, I would conclude that I’m Kira too.”

The words echoed, too steady, too rehearsed. He sounded reasonable . That was the worst part. I didn’t know who the hell Raye Penber was- but maybe that was for the better.

“That means… That while I have no consciousness of it… I might be Kira.”

I couldn’t hold back the way my shoulders stiffened at the mention.

Really? That’s his new move? Pretending this was all subconscious? Who the hell would believe that?

But they would believe it, some part of me knew that. Maybe not all of them, but Light could put on a damn convincing act. 

My jaw locked around nothing but my own teeth, caging in the words I couldn’t say. All I could muster out was, “That’s… That’s not possible. You can’t be… You can’t be Kira .”

I spat out the last word like venom on my tongue.

I could perform too.

Dove stared at me like I was the only thing anchoring her to the room. Her leg bounced under the table- fast, relentless, like a countdown she couldn’t stop. She didn’t speak. Didn’t blink. Then Light turned.

His gaze found mine, slow and deliberate, like he’d just remembered I was there.

His eyes caught the light- sharp, glinting with something I couldn’t name. Not quite triumph. Not quite madness.

“I know…” His voice held that fake sincerity, the kind that makes it feel mocking if you were aware of the truth. “I can hardly believe it myself. But lately… I’ve started wondering if I’ve ever truly understood who I am. What if…”
A pause, just long enough to seem human. “What if I’m losing control of my own mind?”

“C’mon, Light. You know you’re not.” I came across more dire than I’d intended, but that wasn’t an issue. Any person would be in my situation. It was the appropriate response. “You’re the smartest guy in Tokyo, hell, in Japan! If you were losing your mind surely you’d know! If you were Kira, you’d be smart enough to figure it out!”

I thought that maybe boosting his ego would help him think rationally. I thought that maybe if I begged him- he'd snap back into reality.

But when I saw the flicker of a glare flash only for a second- I knew I had thought wrong.

“I may not be conscious of it,” His facade was back. “But maybe when I go to sleep another version of me comes out and does the killings…”

L raised his brows, unblinking- unamused in that detached, clinical way that made everything feel colder. Across the room, Soichiro had started to pace, heavy footsteps echoing off the floor. He looked like a man unraveling in real time- hands twitching, breath uneven, his composure fraying with every word.

“Why would you say something like that?” he snapped, voice breaking at the edges like it couldn’t decide whether to beg or accuse.

Matsuda stammered, and I couldn’t tell whether he was close to tears or not. “Light, he’s right. This isn’t like you at all!”

Mogi stood rigid, arms locked tight over his chest, his expression carved from stone. He didn’t speak- he never did when it mattered most- but the weight of his silence said enough. Aizawa hovered beside him, still as a shadow, his dark eyes locked on the monitor- on Misa- as if he could will the truth out of her image. And L didn’t move. Not a shift, not a breath- just a ghost in a chair, watching everything and everyone with that unreadable stillness that felt almost inhuman.

Flat, and unflinching, he shook his head. “That didn’t happen.”

For once, I saw real surprise on Light’s face. Or maybe it was fake, too. I didn’t know. “What do you mean, Ryuzaki?”

“There were actually about five days when we had cameras installed in your room.”

I paused. The world around me paused.

Five days? When?
What did I say? Did I speak to Myru aloud? Did I whisper a name?
Were the cameras there when I wrote Hina’s name in the notebook?

My eyes met with Dove’s. A recognition of shared fear.

Light knitted his brows together. “Cameras…? You went that far, Ryuzaki?!”

“Yes.” L played with the hem of his white shirt. “You were sleeping normally at night.”

“Then… During those five days I didn’t act as a shinigami?”

“Right… unfortunately there was no activity…” The way L said unfortunately rubbed my skin the wrong way. “Since criminals died even when you didn't gain any information on them. My conclusion was not that you weren’t Kira, but that you made no mistakes to reveal yourself as Kira.”

“So am I Kira then?” Light asked, tone quiet- almost apprehensive, like the answer scared even him. “If you look objectively, it seems probable.”

A slow, icy weight settled over the room. He said it like it was math. Like it was inevitable. Like he wanted to believe it.

Soichiro flinched. “It can’t be, Light…” His voice cracked. “You’re thinking too much.”

But Light didn’t stop. Of course he didn’t. His words came steady, rehearsed- but dressed up to look raw.

“I have to be honest…” he said, eyes still not lifting. “Sometimes I think that some serious criminals should be killed…”

My breath caught. The way he said ‘should’- as though that’s all it was. A hypothetical.

“…And not just criminals,” he added. “There are many people who, deep inside, I think would be better off dead.”

There it was. That carefully veiled truth, bleeding through. Masked as vulnerability. Spoken like a confession. But I knew better. This wasn’t guilt- it was his attempt to come off as sincere.

Admit to something small. Don’t admit the rest.

But it was cut short. Matsuda raised his voice- panicked- desperate. “Light… I’m like that too. I’m always thinking that some people should be dead. Most are probably like that. But that doesn’t mean you'd actually kill them, right?! The criminals died even when you had no information on them. The cameras proved that.”

“No.” Aizawa finally spoke up, shifting closer to the group. Authoritative. “During that time we were low on members and only watched him in the house. We figured that would be enough, but it’s not like we watched him twenty-four hours a day. He was at school and left freely whenever he wanted… If he figured out he was being watched, then he could’ve done the killings once he left the house.”

There was a silence. It hung over the room, cold and suspenseful. 

I wanted to say something- anything- to pull the heat off Light. To steer it. Deflect it. Whether this was his plan or not, it was reckless. Suicidal. He was going to burn for it, and he’d drag us down with him.

I scrambled for an answer. Some excuse. A fix. But every thought I reached for collapsed the second I touched it. Nothing worked. Nothing that didn’t scream Kira. Nothing that didn’t tie us straight to him.

We were trapped.

We were exposed.

We were screwed.

And then, L said it.

What I was dreading.

“I really don’t like where this is going but… Fine. Light Yagami will be restrained and placed under confinement for an undetermined amount of time.”

The air snapped- like the room stopped breathing. Like I did.

No one moved. No one spoke. No sound, no mercy.

My hands trembled violently against my thighs, the only proof I hadn’t dissociated completely. But it wasn’t grounding- it was horrifying . This was real. Too real.

Light was going to be arrested. The killings would stop.
He’d be caught.
We’d be caught.

I couldn’t breathe. My chest clenched like it was collapsing in on itself. My thoughts spun too fast to hold onto- jagged and useless.

Did he expect us to take over?
Kill for him?
Die for him?

No. No- he would've warned us. Something. Anything.

Then Soichiro's voice cracked through the silence:

“W…what?!”

It hit like a gunshot.

I flinched, my whole body jerking, and everything inside me shattered.

L only continued, blank as a board. “But in that case, if we’re doing it, we’re doing it right now. You will not be allowed to leave my sight before then.”

“It’s impossible. There’s no way my son could be Kira.”

Soichiro’s voice cracked like something breaking in half, trying to hold onto faith that was already slipping. His fists were clenched, face pale and shaking, like saying it out loud might somehow undo the reality forming around us.

But then Light stepped forward- calm, composed, terrifyingly certain.

“It’s okay, Dad,” he said, steady as stone. “I’ll do it- no, I want to do it.”

My stomach turned. What was he doing? Why was he saying this like it made sense? Like volunteering to be locked away was just some logical next step?

“There’s no way I’ll be able to keep pursuing Kira,” he continued, “if somewhere in my mind I suspect myself.”

My hands gripped my skirt so tightly I thought I’d tear through the fabric. I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t blink. This wasn’t happening. It couldn’t be.

“But you have to agree not to let me out until you’ve determined for sure whether I’m Kira or not,” Light went on, turning toward L now. “No matter what I say, Ryuzaki.”

He was serious. He meant every word. He was giving himself up.

L nodded, his tone unreadable. “I understand,” he said, quiet and cool, like this was just another move in a game. “But I can’t imagine how long it would take for my suspicion of you to dissipate, so be prepared for that.”

Then he looked at Soichiro. “Mr. Yagami, can you come up with a reason why Light will be away from home for a while? You’ll need to.”

The words ricocheted around the room like bullets. I couldn’t keep up. I wanted to scream. I wanted to run. I wanted to do anything but sit there and watch Light walk himself into a cell like it was some grand, noble gesture.

Soichiro blinked, clearly shaken. “This is all so sudden… Why should my son be put in a cell and-”

“Give it up, Dad,” Light interrupted, firm but not cruel. “I need to do this for myself. And if I’m not Kira…” His eyes swept the room, voice solemn. “I swear I’ll catch the person who’s caused this to happen to us.”

I stared at him, heart pounding like it was trying to break through my ribs. What the hell was he playing at?

This wasn't a strategy. This was suicide.

I could only stand frozen, breath caught in my throat, as L gave the quiet command to Aizawa.

Aizawa moved without hesitation- stepping forward with cold precision. His hands went behind Light’s back, the metal cuffs snapping shut with a harsh, echoing click that seemed to reverberate through my chest.

Light didn’t struggle. Not even a twitch.

Then came the noise-cancelling headphones, heavy and isolating, muffling the world around him.

And just before the blindfold was slipped on-

His eyes caught mine.

A look flickered there, so faint I almost doubted it was real. But no, it lingered, undeniable.

They were wide. Sharp. Open, like he was absorbing every detail, committing it to memory.

No questions. No blame.

Just a quiet, haunting farewell.

As if through those eyes, he was silently taking a photograph of me.

Saying goodbye- or worse- I’ll see you later .

My breath caught in my throat. I nearly gagged on it.

But I didn’t look away. I couldn’t.

Don’t give him that .

The door slammed shut behind him, a deafening finality that echoed in the hollow pit of my chest.

All I could feel were the jagged crescent scars my nails had torn into my palms- raw, burning, bleeding silently beneath my skin. My eyes stayed locked on the empty space he’d just occupied, refusing to look away.

He was gone. But the weight he left behind pressed down on me like a crushing storm, suffocating, relentless.

Chapter 35: Monsters and Men

Summary:

Light is gone.
The handcuffs clicked, the blindfold dropped, and the room hasn’t breathed since.

Left behind in the wreckage, Aria unravels. L pushes. Dove freezes. The Task Force splinters. And Soichiro Yagami makes a decision that will break something in both of them.

When the people you trust start volunteering for their own cages,
what's left to save?
What’s left to say?

I hadn’t moved in over an hour. Just sat there, hunched forward on the couch, elbows digging into my knees, fists twisted in my sleeves like I could wring the panic out of them. My head was heavy in my hands. Everything felt swollen and far away- like my body had been filled with static. I could hear Dove breathing next to me, could feel her eyes glancing my way every few minutes like she wanted to say something but didn’t know how. 

No one said anything. The room was too quiet. Just the low hum of the monitors and the soft tick of a wall clock somewhere behind me, dragging time forward like it hated every second of it. Light was on the screen. Cuffed. Gone. And I couldn’t look at it. Couldn’t let my eyes go there.

Soichiro finally stood up. I heard him rub his hands over his face, and heard the quiet, rasping sigh that followed. 

“I’m going out for some air,” he said, voice hoarse. “You two should do the same.”

My throat burned. God, I wanted to. Just to get out. Just to feel something that wasn’t this.

But before I could move- before my muscles could even remember how- 

“Aria. Dove.”

L’s voice, low and level, cut through the silence.

“Sit back down.”

I froze, every muscle locking like a trap had just sprung. 

The command hadn’t been loud, but it hit like a gunshot. My breath stalled. Dove’s eyes flicked toward me, wide and searching, but neither of us moved. We sat back down- slow, cautious- as if rising too fast would set something off.

The door opened behind us. Soichiro stepped out first. Matsuda followed, unusually quiet. Mogi brought up the rear. The soft click of the latch sliding shut behind them felt like a seal.

A wave of nausea rolled through me. We were alone.

Alone with L.

He didn’t look up. Just kept typing, the quiet clack of keys filling the room like a metronome. On the monitors, Light and Misa sat in separate cells, silent shadows framed by fluorescent buzz. The sight alone sent a chill up my arms, raising the fine hairs like static.

Then, without warning- no shift in tone, no glance our way- L spoke.

“...You both appear unwell. More so than the others… with the possible exception of Soichiro Yagami. Why is that?”

I stared- bewildered for only a second- before answering.
“Seriously...?”

He didn’t blink. Didn’t show the slightest hint of emotion, only the dry study of the two subjects before him. “You appear more affected than the situation would reasonably warrant.”

And then- something cracked.

The way he looked at me. That twitch of his lip against his thumb. The way he acted like none of this mattered- like it was just another puzzle to prod and pull apart. Every lie we’d told. Every line we’d tiptoed. And for what? This ?

No.

The pressure behind my eyes wasn’t even sadness anymore- it was rage, sharp and hot and rising fast. My chest burned with it. My voice came out louder than I meant it to- shaking, cutting through the room.

“Don’t pretend to care. Don’t act like you understand. You’re not capable of sympathy, Ryuzaki.”

I stood, breath hitching.

“That was my childhood friend. The boy I grew up with. And now he’s locked in a goddamn cell and being accused of mass murder- and you sit there like it’s just another experiment to watch unravel.”

A pause.

“That’s not an answer.” L concluded, very matter-of-fact. “That’s emotional language. Try again.”

Maybe Dove sensed it- the shift in my posture, the twitch just beneath my eye, the way my fingers trembled against my leg like they were holding back something sharper than fear. Maybe she saw it coming before I did. 

Maybe that’s why her hand hovered in between me and the detective on the other side, like she was trying to anchor me before I snapped.

“Okay, that’s enough- this isn’t an interrogation. We’re all just-”

L was the one to cut her off with a cold, disinterested look. “Emotion clouds judgment. I’m only looking for the truth.”

And that was it for me.

“You want truth?! Fine. The truth is, I’m exhausted. I’m anxious. I’m scared. And I’m sick of this game you keep playing- pretending you don’t know how we feel just to watch us squirm. You think just because you’ve trained yourself not to feel anything, the rest of us should do the same?! Sorry, I’m not a robot. And I know you’re not either.”

I didn’t even pause to take a breath. I just stood up- and stepped closer to him, the words spilling out of my mouth before I could stop them.

“You think you’re untouchable, but someday this is all going to catch up to you. I don’t care how many cases you’ve solved, how many monsters you’ve outsmarted- eventually, something’s going to break through that shell you live in. And when it does, it’s going to ruin you. Because you’re not above it. You’re human. And sooner or later, that’s going to hurt.”

His eyes flinched wide- not enough to betray him, but enough for me to catch it. Just for a second. A flicker of something- shock, maybe. Recognition.

I tried to breathe. In through the nose, out through the mouth. Control it. Control anything.

But every breath felt like it caught on the edges of my ribs. Too shallow. Too jagged. My chest was rising too fast, hands clammy, the room too still.

And then L- still sitting there like nothing had cracked- lowered his gaze to the floor. His voice barely audible like the word haunted him..

“…monsters…?”

I didn’t wait for him to continue. I didn’t wait for his smart-assed words or his unrelenting questions. I whipped around and turned my back to the both of them, storming to the door without another sentence.

I barely registered the echo of Dove’s footsteps behind me- staggered, hesitant, like she wasn’t sure if she was allowed to follow. The air felt too thick, buzzing with everything I hadn’t said. I just needed to leave. I just needed out.

But before she could reach me, L’s voice cut through the silence like a scalpel.

“Dove stays.”

He didn’t raise it. Didn’t look up. Just said it flat- quiet, deliberate, like he was confirming a fact already decided.

It wasn’t really a question- it never was with him. More of a command dressed in quiet civility.

Dove froze mid-step, halfway to the door. Her hand hovered near the frame, uncertain. She turned toward me, eyes wide, searching. I met her gaze, heart hammering. My chest felt too tight to speak, so I just nodded- once, sharp. That was enough.

“I just want to talk to her,” L said softly, almost to himself. “Privately. As a friend of Light’s.”

Dove hesitated a second longer, then backed away slowly, her movements stiff like she was trying not to flinch. She sank back into her seat without a word.

I looked at her one last time before stepping out. Don’t say too much , my eyes told her. Be careful.

She caught it. Nodded. But I could still see the reluctance pulling at her posture.

Then the door shut behind me.

And I was alone.

I didn’t wait. Didn’t linger by the door, or press my ear to the wall. Whatever L wanted from Dove, he’d get it- he always did. I just needed to move. Get out. Breathe.

My boots hit the stairs hard- too loud in the sterile quiet. I could’ve taken the elevator, but my brain didn’t register the option. I just kept going, each step faster than the last, like if I stopped, I’d shatter right there in the hallway.

By the time I reached the lobby, my chest was tight, fingers already twitching for another cigarette. I pushed through the stairwell doors like they were an exit out of my own skin.

And then I saw him.

Soichiro sat alone on one of the benches near the far wall, slouched forward with his elbows on his knees, phone dangling from one hand. Unread messages glowed up from the screen, ignored. His shoulders were set in that kind of tension only hopelessness could shape.

I stopped short, the cold air catching in my lungs.

Before I could even say his name, he glanced up- like he’d sensed me coming. His eyes were tired. But he managed a faint, broken smile.

“Didn’t expect to see you again so soon.”

I hovered, choosing not to sit right away. I couldn’t. “You okay..?”

There was a pause, then Soichiro let out a defeated sigh.

“I’m going in too.”

I blinked, confused. “What?”

“I asked L to put me in confinement. Alongside Light.”

My heart dropped like a stone. My stomach twisted so violently it felt like the floor had tilted under me.

No. No, not him too.

My voice caught in my throat, brittle and fraying.

“Why-” I choked out, eyes blown wide, lungs barely working. “Why would you do that?”

It wasn’t just disbelief. It was panic. Like the last solid thing in my life had suddenly cracked straight down the middle.

He shook his head. “Because if my son is Kira… I don’t know what I’ll do. And I can’t let that part of me endanger anyone else.”

The way he said it made something cold crawl down my spine. My stomach turned, bile rising sharp in the back of my throat.

Was I a terrible person?

I was letting this happen to him. Letting him throw himself into the fire when I knew- deep down- I already had the answer he was breaking himself to find.

He’d be ashamed of me. Disappointed.

I couldn’t take it. I couldn’t face the weight in his eyes- the sadness, the resignation- so I looked away.

“You don’t have to do that,” I muttered. “You’ve already done enough.”

“Maybe.” His voice was quiet, worn. “But I made a promise to protect people. And I can’t protect anyone if I let this blind me.”

My thoughts started spiraling- guilt, panic, the unbearable weight of all the lies we were standing on- but he cut through it, grounding me with a firm hand on my shoulder.

“You should leave,” he said gently. “The Task Force. You and Dove. This… this isn’t something you should be carrying.”

I froze, staring at his hand like it might brand me. I couldn’t breathe for a second.

“I want to help,” I said, barely above a whisper. “I want to catch Kira.”

Because if I leave, it’s over. My mind wandered. If I leave, I lose whatever scraps of control I have left.

He studied me, the expression on my face, the way my shoulders had tensed. He took it all in, then nodded slowly. “You remind me of Sachiko sometimes. She always held her ground, even when I was the one asking her to run.”

I didn’t say anything. Just stared at him, my throat tightening, vision going hot at the edges. My chest ached with everything I couldn’t say- everything I’d buried too deep to speak aloud.

He looked at me for a long moment, still resting a hand on my arm- steady, warm, familiar.

“Just…” he added softly, a little rough around the edges. “Take care of yourself.”

A beat.

“Promise me that.”

And for a second, it felt like he knew. Not everything. But enough.

I stepped forward without thinking and threw my arms around him, holding on like the ground might give out beneath us. He hugged me back just as tightly- like he knew. Like this might be the last time.

Because maybe it was.

His heartbeat was uneven beneath my ear. His breath came slower than it used to. His health was slipping, his mind fraying at the seams, unraveling thread by thread.

Because of all of this.
Because of Light.
Because of me.

And I held him tighter. Just in case.

His uniform still smelled like old fabric softener and engine grease- familiar in a way nothing else was anymore. Something solid. Human. Almost like home.

And I hated how much I wanted to stay there.

Because I knew I couldn’t.
Not anymore.
Not after this.

So I let go.

Chapter 36: Eyes on the Glass

Summary:

School no longer matters. All that remains is the static routine of surveillance and silence. With Light, Misa, and Soichiro in confinement, Aria spirals into a state of numb vigilance- watching, waiting, dreading the moment everything might shift again. Dove clings to hope. Aria doesn't.

School didn’t matter anymore. I only left the house for Task Force meetings- wake up, drag myself to the hotel, sit through hours of static, go home, collapse. Eat if I could. Sleep if I was lucky. Repeat. Home felt smaller. Staler. My mom kept pretending nothing had changed- asking about school, Sayu, food. I stopped responding.

I didn’t want her voice. I didn’t want the reminder of what life used to feel like.

All I wanted was to keep watching.

Light. Misa. Soichiro.

I watched because I was afraid not to. Afraid something would shift- a crack, a slip- and I’d miss it.

And if I missed it… then all of this really would’ve been for nothing.

I didn’t know what to believe anymore. Part of me still reeled from the insanity of it- Light, cuffed and blindfolded, volunteering to be locked away like some twisted martyr. It felt impossible. Terrifying. And yet, there he was. Dove, meanwhile, clung to it like it meant something. She called it brave- said maybe this was his way of proving us wrong, of getting out of this mess.

But I wasn’t convinced. Neither was she.

I saw it in the way her hands fidgeted when she talked about him, the way her voice dipped trying to defend him. I told her maybe Soichiro was right- maybe we should walk away from all of it.

But Dove just got quiet. She was scared of him, even if she wouldn’t say it. Scared of going against him. Maybe, to her, it was still safer to work with the devil than risk making him our enemy.

I didn’t know if either of us believed the comfort we offered each other anymore.

The next meeting was no different.

Dove and I sat side by side in the same hotel conference room we’d been trapped in for a week now. The air was cold. The blinds were half-shut against the afternoon glare. My legs were tucked beneath me on the chair, arms folded tight. Dove looked pale- more than usual. Her fingers twitched in her lap every time the clock ticked. No one spoke.

Only the sound of L’s typing filled the space. That same soft, relentless rhythm. Constant. Mechanical.

I kept my eyes on the monitors.

Three cells. Three lives behind bars.

And out of all of them, it was Soichiro I couldn’t stop watching.

He looked worse than either of them. His hair was disheveled, graying at the edges. His shoulders slumped forward like something in him had caved. His breathing was shallow- barely enough to fog the glass in front of him. He hadn’t moved in a while.

It made something tighten in my stomach.

He was unraveling. Quietly. Painfully.

And I was watching it happen.

Some part of me- some small, desperate part- had hoped Light had a master plan. That maybe the killings would continue. That it would all prove he couldn’t be Kira.

But they didn’t. The killings had stopped.

Completely. Instantly.

And just like that, whatever hope I’d been clinging to was gone.

I was curled in a chair beside L, arms wrapped around my knees, legs tucked tight to my chest. We’d been staring at the monitors for hours now, saying nothing, just watching. At some point, I realized I’d mirrored his posture exactly- perched like a bird, just like him on the couch. But I didn’t bother to shift or feel embarrassed. If L was right about increasing your deduction skills by sitting like this, then maybe I was better off.

Still, nothing on those cameras told me anything I didn’t already know. Maybe it was just his superstition after all.

He pressed a slender finger to the intercom button, speaking into the microphone. “Yagami.”

Soichiro shot up like something had sparked through his chest. “What happened?! Good news?! Bad news?!”

L didn’t answer right away. He just watched, head tilted slightly, and for a fleeting second, I could’ve sworn something flickered across his face- sympathy, maybe- but it vanished before I could name it.

“No…” L said softly. “Try to relax… Nothing will be accomplished by stressing yourself out. This could take a very long time. Perhaps you should rest in a more comfortable place?”

But Soichiro only grew more tense. His gaze snapped from the floor to the camera trained on the room. “Impossible! There’s no place on earth I could relax right now. No matter what the results, I’m not leaving without my son!”

I couldn’t focus on whatever the two of them were talking about. I could barely tear my eyes from the monitors long enough to remember basic things- like using the bathroom. I hadn’t even realized how close I’d gotten to L and the table until the brush of my thigh against the leg of his sofa startled me. I nearly jumped out of my seat- and he cast me a sidelong glance.

“Azalea, would you like to speak to them?”

I blinked out of my trance, slowly turning to face him. “Really? Even though you suspect me?”

“I really don’t see the harm.” He mumbled around his mug, taking a sip. “You’re within my line of sight, if you intended to kill me, I’d simply apprehend you.”

I pressed my lips into a thin line and turned my eyes back to the monitors, their cold glow casting shadows across my face. My fingers hovered for a moment- just long enough to feel the weight of the choice- before I slid the microphone closer, its base scraping softly against the table.

I knew who I wanted to talk to first. I clicked the on button.

“Soichiro.”

At the sound of my voice, his head jerked toward the camera- startled at first, then visibly relieved.

“Aria?”

I nodded instinctively, like he could see me. “Are you okay?”

There was a pause. When he answered, his voice was low, ragged around the edges.

“I’m holding on,” he said. “Doing what I can. I just… I wish we had some news about my son.”

The line settled into silence. I tightened my grip around the microphone, jaw locking as something twisted in my chest. “You know L wasn’t bluffing, right? You can relocate whenever you want- to somewhere more comfortable. You don’t have to stay here.”

I wanted so badly for him to take the offer- to walk away while he still had the chance, to choose peace over this slow, suffocating isolation. But of course, he didn’t. He was too loyal. Too steadfast.

“Nothing would feel comfortable until I get answers. I appreciate the offer- but I’ll stay.”

I drew in a slow breath, pressing my forehead against the microphone’s support bar, trying to ground myself. Frustration clawed at the edge of my voice- but I couldn’t let him hear it. I straightened, forcing composure into my tone.

“All right. I’m here if you need anything. And… if you want me to pass a message to Sachiko or Sayu, I can.”

There was a pause. Then:

“I appreciate that. Thank you.”

I clicked the mic off and turned my gaze to Light’s monitor. He sat there with that hollow, innocent stillness- like he was the one being wronged- and something in me snapped. It made my blood boil in a way I couldn’t fully name.

But I had to talk to him. We hadn’t spoken since the day they locked him up.

“Well… it doesn’t look great,” I said evenly after switching the mic back on. “You’re not exactly helping your case. The killings stopped the moment you were taken in.”

I wasn’t sure what point I was trying to make- the words just spilled out like I had one. Maybe I was saying what I thought the Task Force wanted to hear. Either way, Light looked up from where he sat on the floor, gaze cutting toward the camera, unimpressed.

“Admittedly, it looks incriminating,”  he said smoothly. “Though you’ve always been… perceptive, haven’t you?”

His wording was vague enough to pass as flattery- maybe even harmless commentary. But I knew that shift in his voice. Fine. If that’s how he wanted to play it, I could thread my words past L just as easily. If this was chess, then I was done playing defensive.

I barely parted my lips to speak before he cut me off.

“Maybe this is what it takes. To prove where someone really stands.”

His eyes never left the camera- a warning aimed with precision. Cold, deliberate. He knew I’d be watching, and he made sure I felt it.

I didn’t answer right away. Just stared at the monitor like it might flinch first. Somehow, even through a screen, that cold stare still managed to crawl under my skin. I curled my fingers tighter, willing the feeling to pass.

“Then pick a side. Justice or not, the truth’s going to come out anyway.”

“Suppose we do find the truth eventually,” he said, voice too calm to be casual, “I wonder what roles we’ll all end up playing in it.”

I paused.

I stared.

I wanted to scream. Wanted to call him a dick.

Maybe worse.

But I didn’t.

I just sat there, fists curled tight in my lap, breathing through the heat in my chest- until L reached over and switched the intercom off himself.

His voice was soft, barely above a whisper. Not really to me. Not really to anyone.

“Excuse me. I’ll handle this part.”

Just as quickly as it was there, his quiet tone vanished. It was replaced by that analytical, straight to the point kind of speech as he clicked the mic back on.

“Light, it’s only been a week since you’ve been placed in confinement. Are you alright?”

Hunched over on the floor, hands cuffed behind his back, that same bitter glare still carved into his face- he didn’t even look up when he spoke.

“Yeah… I know I look pretty bad in here right now, but this pride… I guess I’ll have to get rid of it.”

And then- suddenly- something shifted.
Not the room.
Him .

He blinked. Once.
Twice.
Like something had short-circuited behind his eyes.

Then his head snapped up toward the camera, and for the first time, he looked genuinely panicked.

“Ryuzaki…” he said, stumbling over the word, stammering in a way I’d never heard before. “It’s true that I suggested the confinement idea and chose this for myself… but I just realized something!”

I didn’t move.
Just leaned closer to the monitor, heart thudding, eyes wide, lips parted without sound.

“This is pointless! I’m not Kira! You need to let me out of here!”

And for the first time in months, I heard something real in his voice.
Not that perfect act. Not calculation.
Actual, human emotion.

Was I imagining it?
Inventing something just to make this easier to swallow?
No. No, it was too sudden. Too raw.
Unless… unless his mask was finally getting to me.

I hated the thought. It sat in my gut like poison.

I was too focused on Light’s voice to notice the twitch in Dove’s eye. The way her brows scrunched into a tight knot. The whirlpool of doubt and panic swimming sickeningly in my stomach distracted me from anything outside of my own thoughts.

The corner of L’s mouth curled into something confusing, and the Task Force standing behind him stood with different expressions of shock. L scooted closer to the mic. “I can’t do that. I promised I wouldn’t let you out until I determined whether or not you are Kira. That is also what you wanted.”

Light only shook his head, the look on his face so strange, so jarring, it sent a chill crawling beneath my skin. Something about it was wrong- too raw, too shaken.

“Something was wrong with me then! Do you really think Kira could do these things without being conscious of them?! I don’t know what kind of power Kira has, but he definitely exists and has committed these acts by his own free will! I have no consciousness of those acts, so I’m not Kira!”

There was desperation in his voice- sharp, frayed, clinging to every word like he meant it.

Out of the corner of my eye, I caught L’s expression shift.

And for once…
He actually looked taken aback.

The only other time I’d seen anything like it was when he first heard the word shinigami - like something had clicked in a way he hadn’t prepared for.

“I too do not believe that Kira had no awareness of his actions…”

But just as quickly, the moment passed.

L straightened. Cold again. Calculating.

“But if you are Kira, everything still fits if we just assume that you can’t accept the fact that you’re Kira. The killings stopped immediately after you were confined. I believe that you’re merely hiding the fact that you’re Kira.”

“Ryuzaki, listen carefully- I’m not Kira!” Light struggled in his cuffs, like he just realized he had them on. “I swear I’m not lying, I must have been framed! I can think clearly now, and that has to be it!”

I stared, frozen, my heart hammering so loud it drowned out everything else. There was a sharp, tightening pressure behind my eyes- like my skull couldn’t contain the thought forming fast enough.

Framed?
Framed?!

Was that it? His plan all along- to pin it on me, on Dove, even Misa, and watch us fall?

My stomach lurched.

No.
No.

He wasn’t going to pin this on us. He wasn’t going to burn the whole board just to keep playing god.

I wouldn’t let him.

I couldn’t let him.

I’d bring him down with me.

And as I stared at the screen- watching him lift his gaze to the camera with those mock-innocent eyes, the Task Force murmuring behind me like background static- I let the silence settle.

I thought about all of it.

The lies. The games. The trap he was building for the rest of us.
And the one I’d build for him in return.

If he was going to drag us down,
then fine.

I’d make sure he came down with me.

Chapter 37: Static Between Gods

Summary:

The hallway echoes with tension and unspoken grief as Aria and Dove’s alliance begins to crack. Doubt, anger, and desperation blur the lines between survival and complicity. Aria tries to detach- tries to pretend it’s all already over- but Dove won’t let go. Not of the scrap. Not of Ryuk. Not of her.

The hallway buzzed with that cheap fluorescent hum, just loud enough to make the silence feel fake. I leaned against the wall near the exit, one arm crossed, the other flicking ash from a cigarette I barely remembered lighting. My blazer still smelled like nerves and burnt coffee. My hands wouldn’t stop shaking.

Dove showed up quietly, sleeves pulled over her fingers, close but not too close. Neither of us said anything for a while.

She murmured, “I think Ryuk left the cell.”

I exhaled through my nose.
“Doesn’t matter,” I said. “Not anymore.”

And maybe I meant it. Or maybe it was just easier to pretend none of this mattered than admit I didn’t know what came next.

But Dove caught it- of course she did. Her eyes cut toward me, sharp and searching, her mouth twisting like she’d tasted something off.
“What?”

I didn’t answer. Just turned and started walking, boots echoing faintly against the linoleum. The hallway stretched too long, too quiet.

She followed, her steps quicker now, voice rising behind me.
“Wait- what do you mean, ‘doesn’t matter’? Are you serious? Of course it matters!”

Her words chased me down the corridor, louder than they should’ve been. I didn’t turn, just shot a glance over my shoulder- too fast, too obvious. Was anyone listening? Anyone that shouldn’t be?

She caught up fast, and before I could say anything, something brushed my hand- dry, thin, familiar.

Paper.

My head snapped around. Dove was right beside me now, eyes set, holding out the scrap like it wasn’t a live wire. She pressed it into my palm.

“Something’s changed,” she said, steady. “We have to figure it out.”

I ripped it from her fingers, pulse spiking hard.
“What the hell are you doing?” I hissed, voice low and sharp. “Don’t just flash this around like it’s a fucking receipt!”

“We have to figure out what this means , Aria!” Dove pressed, ignoring the look on my face. “If Ryuk left the cell, that means he’s not with Light anymore- how is that not important to you?”

I snapped before I could stop myself.
“What is it with you and Ryuk?” The words came out sharp, heat crawling up my neck. “Let it go, Dove. Just drop it .”

She froze, staring at me like I’d just said something in another language. Her voice dropped, quieter now- less angry, more raw. “You’re not even taking this seriously, are you?”

Her expression was unreadable for once- no smile, no sarcasm. Just that hollow look people get when something starts to crack.

I shook my head- not to dismiss her, just to keep something from boiling over. The anger wasn’t loud. It was cold. Heavy. Sitting in my chest like it was trying to crack something open from the inside. I tried to breathe, but my thoughts were slipping sideways, sharp and useless.

My voice cracked anyway.

“Light’s already thrown the whole Kira identity under the bus,” I spoke. “We’re next. Everyone’s going down- and we’re going with him.”

“What are you saying?” Dove stepped forward, voice tight with disbelief. “He has a plan, Aria. He has to. He’s not stupid- if we go down, he knows we’ll drag him with us- ”

“Then what is the plan? ” I snapped, louder than I meant to. The words hit the air like glass. “Tell me, Dove! What if the plan is to sell us out? What if that’s always been the plan?”

She flinched, just slightly.

I kept going.

“L’s not gonna let him walk. You think he’s just gonna shake hands and move on? We’re all going down! Whether Light takes us with him or not- doesn’t matter. We’re already on fire.”

Dove’s face fell like I’d said something unforgivable. She blinked hard, like trying to steady herself, then said quietly- but firmly- 

“This matters , Aria. All of it. The Note. Ryuk. Light. We don’t just wake up from this and pretend it didn’t happen.”

I saw it hit her- the way her expression crumpled, and I could tell something in her had been quietly hoping I’d say anything else. And maybe I had. Maybe I meant to. But I felt it too. That same weight settling behind my eyes, dragging everything down with it.

I let out a breath. Shoulders slumped. No fight left.

“I’m tired, Dove.” My voice came out flat, almost hollow. “You want to pick it apart, chase every scrap of meaning- fine. Go ahead. I just want it to stop.”

But instead of backing down, Dove straightened- shoulders tense, tone rising with that tight, too-fast rhythm she got when she was really pissed. 

“Are you seriously forgetting you’re the one who pulled me into this? I was studying for exams, Aria. I had a normal life! And then you found that notebook and decided we had to play detective or god or whatever the hell this is-”

Her hands flew up in frustration.

“Now I’m stuck wondering if some name in a cursed notebook’s gonna kill me in my sleep, and I have to act like it’s normal to talk to a shinigami like she’s our third roommate. That’s not on me. You started this.”

I didn’t say anything at first.

For a second, I just stood there, staring at her like I didn’t recognize the girl in front of me. My mouth opened, but nothing came out. Because she wasn’t wrong.

But hearing it- out loud, from her- it stung worse than I thought it would.

“I didn’t… I didn’t know what it was,” I muttered, the words catching on my tongue. “And maybe I was wrong. Maybe we’re just idiots with a murder weapon and no idea what we’re doing.”

My voice cracked a little, too quiet to sound angry.

“I thought maybe we could fix something. Just once. Maybe we could matter.”

I shook my head, more at myself than at her. I didn’t apologize. I couldn’t. I didn’t know why, but I couldn’t.

She just stood there, waiting- like there was something I was supposed to say that would make this all make sense.

I took a breath that felt like glass in my throat.

“Go live your life while you still can, Dove. Go see Sayu. I don’t know- buy a movie ticket, flirt with someone, pretend the world’s still normal.”

I looked away.

“Because I can’t look them in the eye anymore. So go do the shit I can’t.”

She blinked- once, then again- like she couldn’t believe I actually meant it. Then she shook her head, voice quiet but steady. 

“You say that like I can just go back, too.”

Her eyes didn’t leave mine. “We’re in this, Aria. Both of us. Whether we want to be or not. It’s too late to pretend it didn’t happen.”

She stepped closer, slow, careful. Reached out- not for me. For what I was still clutching in my fist. The scrap.

“Give it to me,” she said softly. “If you’re done thinking about it... I’m not.”

For a second, I almost let her take it.
Just one second.

But something in me flared- loud, instinctive, wrong - and I yanked it back before her fingers could even graze it.

She stared at me, startled.
“Dude. What?”

I clutched the scrap like it meant something. Like it could protect me.
“Is that what this is now?” I hissed. “A competition? Who gets to play god better?”

Dove scoffed, eyes narrowing, one brow lifting as if I was being ridiculous.
“Oh my god- what are you, Light? No. It’s called survival.”

I met her stare, voice low and cold.
“Same thing.”

Dove flinched- visibly. Just for a second. Then her expression hardened.

“Wow,” she said, flat. “Okay.”

Her arms crossed tight over her chest, like she was holding something in- or holding herself back.
“You really think that? That trying to survive makes us just like him?”

Her voice cracked, just slightly.

“I thought we were doing this together. I thought you still gave a shit.”

She didn’t wait for an answer. Just turned, pacing a few steps down the hallway like she needed distance before she said something worse.

I almost stopped her.
Almost.

But then I didn’t.

My hand twitched, useless at my side, and I turned without a word.
Walked away.

Back down the dim hallway, past flickering lights and the echo of our argument still clinging to the walls.
Back into the hotel room that felt colder than it had a few minutes ago.

Everyone was gone.

Except L- still seated, still silent, like he hadn’t moved at all. Like he’d been waiting.

I stood in the doorway, not moving. The lights were off- every single one- leaving the room steeped in a low, underwater kind of black. The only glow came from the monitor, casting sharp lines across L’s face and catching the edges of the papers scattered around him like ghosts. My shadow spilled into the room, stretching long across the floor, over the back of his chair.

He didn’t look up.

I cleared my throat, then spoke before I could stop myself.
“You’re gonna need glasses if you keep sitting that close to the screen, you know.”

It wasn’t a joke. Not really. Just noise. Something to fill the space so I didn’t have to hear my own thoughts echoing.

He turned slightly, enough to glance at me over the arm of the chair- elbows tucked to his chest, knees drawn up, posture in that same unsettling curl like he was always mid-thought.

“If anything,” he said, voice flat and unbothered, “this is excellent training. I’m simply preparing for a future where everyone’s eyesight is worse.”

He blinked once, slowly.

“I suspect I’ll adjust.”

And somehow, I ended up at the table.

Drawn to the glow of the monitors, the quiet chaos still humming beneath the silence. Drawn to the man who had spent weeks trying to catch me. Kill me, maybe. Who would, if he found enough proof.

And still, I sat beside him- watching the same footage. The same suspects. My friends. My family.

The Death Note scrap burned in my pocket. Heavy. Too real. I kept my face still, blank. Like if I gave anything away, the room might swallow me whole.

I leaned back just enough to breathe. My voice came out quieter than I meant, a little too light.
“So… should I start investing in that kind of tech now?”

L didn’t look at me. His eyes stayed locked on the screen, the pale blue flicker casting long shadows across his face.

“With your current age,” he said, like he was answering a math problem, “you wouldn’t be able to invest in anything legally. But in the near future? Possibly.”

He turned then. Slow. Deliberate. His gaze met mine with the kind of focus that made my skin feel too tight.

“That is- if you aren’t arrested first. For being a third Kira.”

I didn’t flinch. Just exhaled through my nose, voice dry.
“Wouldn’t be the craziest headline as of late.”

Then came a sound.

A voice cutting through the low hum of the monitors. Familiar. Too familiar.

Light.

I hadn’t noticed the shift at first, but he must’ve been talking to L before I came in- because now he was speaking again. Not calm. Not careful.

Desperate.

His words came rushed, like he was trying to claw his way out of something invisible. There was a strain in his voice I hadn’t heard before. Something almost broken.

It didn’t sound like him.

It sounded sad.

“I know why you’re suspicious. But if I really were Kira… wouldn’t it show? Wouldn’t something be different about me? Some sign in my behavior? I don’t remember any of it… because I’m not him!”

I looked.

Didn’t speak. Didn’t blink. Just let the glow of the screen wash over my face as his voice filled the room.

No reaction.

Just Light and silence.

Chapter 38: The Game Begins Again

Summary:

Two weeks after Light gives himself up, the killings return. As the Task Force reels, Aria is forced to confront the possibility that innocence can be weaponized- and that maybe, just maybe, the monster never left at all.

It had been several days since Light gave himself up to the police. Since he stopped looking at me like he knew things I didn’t. The Task Force still hadn’t decided what to believe- if this was strategy or sincerity, amnesia or performance- but the silence between us had stretched so long it started to feel like truth. Somewhere in the quiet, something shifted. Now I sat alone in the monitor room, tucked into the corner with one knee drawn to my chest, eyes fixed on the screen in front of me. The low hum of static filled the space, a white noise kind of nothing that made it easier not to think. On the monitor, Light sat cross-legged on the edge of his cot, murmuring something too soft to catch. His posture was stiff. Worried. His face had the same openness I remembered from before any of this started. He even smiled once- absently, to himself. He looked like a stranger wearing the face of someone I used to love. And when he shifted slightly toward the camera, not knowing I was there, something inside me pulled taut.

He used to scare me because he felt like a god.

Now he scared me because he didn't.

L shifted silently in the chair beside me. He’d been a near-constant presence over the past few days- watching, waiting, rarely speaking unless he had something sharp to say. As much as he unnerved me, there was something oddly comforting about his dry commentary and blunt delivery. Like no matter how twisted everything got, there was still one person in the room who didn’t lie. He just said what was on his mind.

“Coffee?” L asked, holding the kettle out toward me without looking.

I shook my head. “I’m good. Thanks though.”

He gave a small shrug and poured another cup for himself, drowning it in sugar. The smell alone made my teeth ache.

I thought that would be the end of it- that we’d lapse back into our usual silence. But then, without shifting his gaze from the screen, he spoke. “If Light Yagami was Kira… this isn’t defeat. It's an adjustment. People like him don’t change. They evolve.”

“That’s really cryptic.” I sighed, resting my chin on my palm. “You really wanna believe he’s Kira, don’t you?”

He paused, pressing a thumb to his lower lip, eyes never leaving the monitor. “I wouldn’t say I’m convinced. But statistically, I’d estimate a seventy percent chance this behavior is deliberate- subconscious or not.”

I leaned back slightly, arms crossed. “He doesn’t really look like he’s fighting anymore,” I said, half to myself, half to steer the suspicion away from us. “Feels like something in him just… gave out.”

“Even damaged tools can cause harm,” he said flatly, his gaze flicking from the monitor to me and back again. 

A hint, maybe. Or a warning. I couldn’t tell the difference anymore. 

Or maybe I was just looking for one. I didn’t want to think about it.

I let the silence settle again, heavier than before. L sipped his coffee like it wasn’t laced with judgment. The monitor flickered. Light yawned and attempted to stretch in his confines, like none of this meant anything at all.

I needed air.

Without a word, I stood and slipped out of the room, the door clicking shut behind me. The hallway was dim and sterile, that same low hum following me out like a headache. I dug through my coat pocket for the lighter I hadn’t used all day, the crumpled cigarette carton crinkling like dry paper in my hand.

The side stairwell was quiet, mostly empty this late at night. I pushed open the door, letting it shut behind me with a soft metallic thud. The cement steps bit through the fabric of my skirt, a cold pressure against my spine that made it hard to tell where I ended and the building began. I sat hunched near the base of the stairwell, tucked between flights like a forgotten thing. The fluorescent light above buzzed with that soft electric whine, too faint to fill the silence, but loud enough to make it feel artificial.

For a while, it was almost peaceful. The kind of peace that comes not from stillness, but from giving up the fight.

Then- footsteps.

Not heavy. Not rushing. Just… there. Soft rubber soles skimming concrete. I didn’t look up. Didn’t need to. I already knew it was her.

I saw Dove’s hair before I saw her face, then the soft swish of her dress trailing behind her. She paused when she noticed me, mid-step, like she hadn’t expected anyone to be out here. Like maybe she’d been hoping to be alone too.

We hadn’t really talked in days. The silence between us felt heavier than the cold.

She fidgeted with the hem of her floral skirt, eyes flicking toward mine, then away.

“Hey,” she said quietly.

“Hey.” I repeated.

We just stared at each other for what felt like forever- a quiet hesitation. Neither of us knew what to say. 

She broke the silence after a beat, her voice low and uncertain, like she wasn’t sure if saying it out loud would make it real.

“I think I believe him,” she murmured.

My festering thoughts abruptly halted.

“…What?”

“Light. He seems different, Aria… I don’t know. It feels real.”

I stared at her, expression blank. Eyes unblinking. 

Was she serious?

The silence stretched between us, long enough that I could hear the static from the security feed buzzing faintly through the stairwell door behind me.

“You believe him?”

The words came out flat. Not loud. Not accusing. Just… hollow.

She fidgeted, arms crossing over her chest like she already regretted saying it. “I’m just saying… if this is an act, he hasn’t broken character once. That has to mean something, right?”

I scoffed- sharp, involuntary.

“Yeah. It means he’s good at pretending. We know this.”

Her expression softened for a moment into something hurt. But she turned away just as quickly. “You’re looking for the monster. Maybe he’s just not there anymore. Maybe something happened.”

My eyes narrowed, lip curling in disgust at the mere thought. “Or maybe he’s just waiting for us to lower our guard.”

She crossed her arms tighter, like holding onto herself was her only lifeline. “You want him to be Kira, don’t you?”

That stopped me. 

“What, are you wearing a wire or something?”

I hadn’t meant for it to come out like that- harsh, almost like a bark- but Dove flinched anyway, her posture shifting like I’d shoved her.

“Wait- no, that’s not what I meant,” she said quickly, hands lifting like they always did when she was backpedaling. “I meant… because he’s Kira, you have someone to blame. You get to be angry and cold and sure of everything. But if it wasn’t him-”

She cut herself off, but I already felt it. That thought she didn’t want to say. And I hated her for it.

“If it wasn’t him,” I snapped, “then what? Then it’s my fault? Then I made all this up?”

“I didn’t say that.”

“You didn’t have to.”

For a second, neither of us moved. The cold bit through my sleeves, but I didn’t feel it anymore.

“You want it to be over so badly you’re ready to let him off the hook,” I said, quieter now. “You’re not seeing clearly, Dove. You’re just scared.”

She looked at me like I’d slapped her.

“You think I’m not scared all the time?!” 

Her voice cracked. “You think I haven’t spent every second of the last month wondering if I was next?”

I looked away. I didn’t have an answer for that.

And I didn’t want to give her the one I did.

“We’re all scared, Aria. That’s what he did to us. But this- whatever’s happening now- it doesn’t feel like the same threat. You keep acting like it’s impossible for things to change, but… maybe you’re the one not seeing it.”

She hesitated, then added, softer: “I’ve been with Myru this whole time. I know why she’s quiet. I know what she sees. And I think I do too.”

“What.” I responded, deadpan. “What does she see.”

“She watches him like she’s waiting for something that never comes. That edge she always had around him- it’s gone. And I don’t know. Maybe I’m wrong, but… I don’t think she sees Kira in him anymore. And I’m starting to wonder if she’s right.”

I shook my head, slow and disbelieving. She was being hopeful when we couldn’t afford to be.

“I think you’re seeing something that isn’t there,” I said quietly. “You’re hoping for a miracle. But this isn’t that kind of story.”

“Then what kind of story is it?!” she burst out, more desperate now. “What do you even want out of this? You keep changing your mind, Aria, and I can’t tell what the hell you believe anymore!”

I didn’t answer right away. The words scraped against my throat, but nothing came out.

“I don’t know,” I whispered.

“Then figure it out ,” she snapped, voice low but shaking. She brushed past me, heading up the stairs. “Because I need to know what side you’re really on.”

I watched her go, her footsteps fading up the stairwell like an echo I couldn’t call back. The words stuck in my throat like splinters- sharp, dry, useless. I wanted to follow her. Apologize, maybe. Argue more. Something. But I didn’t move.

The cold crept in through my coat. I sat there for a long moment, staring at the spot where she’d been, unsure if giving her space was the right thing or just the cowardly one.

Eventually, I forced myself to stand. My knees ached from the chill as I brushed off my skirt and started up the stairs- slowly, quietly- back into the walls of the Task Force meeting. Back into the lie we were all still living.

The hotel room was cloaked in that familiar kind of artificial darkness- no lamps on, just the cold blue glow of the computer monitors casting long, flickering shadows across the walls. The air felt stale, like no one had moved in hours. I slipped back inside, quiet as I could, just in time to catch the tail end of Aizawa’s voice cutting through the static.

“You expect us to believe you don’t remember anything ?” He barked, arms stiffly crossed. “Not even why you turned yourself in?”

Light’s voice emitted statically from the speakers, despairing. “I told you already… I thought maybe I was involved. Somehow. I don’t know why. I just felt like- like it was the right thing to do.”

“And what about now?”

Light thought about it for a second, confusion woven into his tone. “Now I just feel like I’m being punished for something I can’t prove I didn’t do.”

Dove stood a little off to the side, arms folded tight against her chest. Her gaze didn’t leave the monitor. She wasn’t relaxed, not exactly- but something in her had gone still. Like she wanted to believe him. Like she already was.

Part of me wished I could be that naive. To pretend he was the person I once knew him as.

But I couldn't allow myself to feel that way. Not now. Maybe not ever.

Not when he looked like prey for the first time in years.

L’s pale fingers curled around the intercom, plucking it from Aizawa’s hand with deliberate slowness. He leaned forward, speaking into the mic’s ridged mouthpiece in that low, mechanical voice the modulator always warped into something inhuman.

“Light Yagami,” he said calmly, “if you were released… how would you choose to use your freedom?”

“How would I use it…?” Light echoed softly, his eyes lowered in thought. For a second, the question seemed to catch him off guard. But when he looked up again, his voice had steadied.

“I- I’d catch Kira. That’s what I want more than anything. But if you mean right away… I’d go home. I’d eat dinner with my family. With my mom, Sayu, and my father. Maybe Aria and Dove, too… like we used to.”

I didn’t breathe. For a second, I couldn’t.

It was the way he said it- like he believed it. Like he really thought that somewhere in this mess, there was still a version of us who sat around a table and passed the rice and talked about school and didn’t have blood on their hands. There was something cruel in how softly he said it. Like it was still sacred. Like it hadn’t been dragged through everything we’d done. Like putting it on paper wouldn’t seal whatever future I had left.

He looked so calm. So clear. And for one sick, impossible moment, I almost believed him. Almost let myself picture it. Just like Dove.

But that was the trick, wasn’t it? He always knew how to sound like the boy we all used to trust.

Even when he was lying. Especially when he was lying.

The silence shattered.

A voice- panicked, breathless- cut through it like a blade, followed by the sharp slam of the door.

“Guys! Guys! Check out the news!”

Matsuda burst in like he’d sprinted through a storm, his hair plastered to his forehead with sweat, a crumpled newspaper clenched in his fist. His breath came in short, sharp bursts as he rushed across the room, nearly tripping over himself.

“Ryuzaki- look at this- ” he gasped, thrusting the paper forward like it might burn through his fingers.

L didn’t flinch. He took it between his thumb and forefinger with surgical calm, holding it like evidence at a crime scene, even as Matsuda kept rambling- half explanation, half panic.

“Two weeks’ worth of criminals- dead! All of them! All at once! Every single one of them had a heart attack- just like before! It’s him. Kira’s back!”

The words barely registered at first. They just hung there- floating, weightless- until they dropped like lead.

My stomach twisted. Not fear. It was worse than that. It was the feeling of being right when you didn’t want to be. Of a nightmare confirming itself in real time.

Kira’s back.

Light .

I looked at the monitors without meaning to, like the answer might already be there, sitting cross-legged and waiting. But he hadn’t moved. He just sat there in that blank white cell, silent and untouchable, hands folded neatly in his lap. He couldn’t hear any of this- couldn’t know. But somehow, he was already still. Already motionless.

But I knew. I knew that look. That stillness.

He was smiling on the inside.

He must’ve been.

But L didn’t look surprised. Not even rattled. If anything… he looked disappointed. Like he’d been hoping to be right.

He lowered the newspaper with a slow, mechanical grace, eyes flicking back to Matsuda- dark, unreadable, void of urgency.

“So,” he said quietly, almost like it was a thought escaping him, “the game begins again.”

I turned back to the monitor. Its glow edged across my cheekbones, cold and clinical.

I looked at him. The way he sat- contained, composed, like nothing outside that cell existed anymore. There was something behind his eyes. Not malice. Not calculation. Something softer. Something I hadn’t seen in a long time.

No. Who was I kidding?

I hadn’t seen it in years.

Whatever had surfaced in him now… it wasn’t new. It wasn’t Kira. It was Light. The version of him from before everything cracked open. The one I used to trust.

But that’s the part that scared me the most.

Because this wasn’t some monstrous transformation. He didn’t kill a girl and become something else. That hunger had always been there, underneath the charm and the perfect grades and the quiet smiles.

Maybe it still was. Maybe it always would be.

And maybe…

Maybe I didn’t know what scared me more- what he was, or what that made me.

Notes:

Hope you liked the first chapter! Would love to hear your theories/thoughts as things unfold... it gets darker from here. As my pics always do lol!

Series this work belongs to:

• Part 1 of Death Note