Death Note Fan Fiction ❯ A Balm for Social Failure ❯ Flight: Part 1 ( Chapter 31 )

[ X - Adult: No readers under 18. Contains Graphic Adult Themes/Extreme violence. ]

A Balm for Social Failure

(Chapter 31: Flight: Part 1)
Light x L

L begins to suspect something is missing from his life. He believes the key to be in social interaction - his weak point. At the appearance of the enigma named Light Yagami, he is challenged to rise to the occasion.

Disclaimer: see ch. 1 for full disclaimer

A/N: This was going to be the longest chapter EVAR. (There just didn't seem to be a good place to split it.) But instead, I split it in two and give you TWO CHAPTERS AT ONCE! ((Sorry it's a day late. things came up.))

Note: Guys, I love you. I swear I will not rush anything!

The fic will end where it needs to, not before, and not after. ;)

As always, your reviews mean a lot to me, and I shower you with my eternal gratitude. (hugs)

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Chapter 31:

The apartment was just as Mikami had left it.

The door had been locked and a single light had been left on in the spacious kitchen area, glinting off of the chrome appliances and the glossy black marble counter-top.

He looked carefully over the living room, slowing his steps, ever cautious. The couches appeared as they always did, with their stylishly low seating, lack of arms, dark oak veneer, and the boxy grey microfiber cushions. The tatami mat that lay in front of it, the dark oak coffee table and the matching end tables were perfectly aligned.

The white carpet that ran throughout the apartment was spotless.

Or at least, it had been. Mikami had not stopped to take off his shoes. Years of habit bade him remove them at the door, but his need for being prepared begged him to disregard the potential sullying of the floor covering. It soon wouldn't matter. Once he'd secured Light and left this place, he'd never be able to come back.

He would miss this place, the container of all his worldly possessions, and the sanctuary its meticulously styled interior afforded him.

It had once been quite barren, when he'd first acquired it at the beginning of his career. Prosecuting attorneys could make good money, but that did not happen overnight. He would regret the loss of the Amani living room set and his books, kept in neat rows on the recessed bookcases, and the flat screen television they bracketed, but they were just things. Trivial things that were nothing more than a pleasant distraction from a life he struggled to make purposeful.

His line of work had ultimately been disappointing. For all of the influence and prestige such a position promised, he too often found himself powerless to affect much in the way he wanted. He had to endure the courtroom, share it with clients that were better off dead, and battle his disillusionment as judge and jury passed verdicts that made him want to tear everything apart around him. Justice. It was a fallacy. What this job had garnered him was box seats to the inexorable truth of it all. Money. Connections. Charisma. These things could rewrite reality for those that possessed them and, no matter the crime, would allow you to swing things in your favor.

Facing this every day, he had been beginning to lose all hope.

Until Kira.

Kira, the God who was not moved by mortal persuasions. The God who showed no mercy to those whom he judged. The God who was unbound by mortal law. The embodiment of justice.

Kira had given his life meaning again. And to directly serve him... to be a part of that divine cleansing...

It was no wonder he was risking it all.

He put his hand on the handle of the bedroom door, tension riding him like an electrical storm, ready to bolt if anything was amiss.

It was no wonder he was here like this now, stalking through his own home like a burglar fearing detection. He would do anything for Kira. Anything to further his purpose, even if it put him at odds with human laws.

He pushed the door inward.

The room felt empty, save for the lone figure on the king-sized bed.

Just as I left him.

His earlier anger had spent itself. He realized this as he looked at the brunette, whose eyes were closed. Perhaps it was his ruminations that had dispelled it, or perhaps it was the feeling of being hunted that jiggered down his spine which made him feel closer to his God; it was the two of them against everyone else.

Time felt condensed and fleeting, but stopped somehow. He had to hurry, he knew that, but he felt strangely hesitant to disturb the resting figure.

Mikami scoured the room with his eyes as he stepped within, searching for anything foreign. When he came up with nothing, he slipped over to the bathroom to check there as well, and then to the closet room. Nothing, and more nothing.

He moved, at last, over to the brunette and touched his shoulder. He thought it odd that the other would have fallen asleep at a time like this, especially after their earlier disagreement, but there was no time to dwell. "God," he said softly. "We have to leave. They're coming and we are out of time." Amber eyes opened, far too clear to have been truly asleep, and vastly different from the incensed eyes he'd seen when he'd left.

"Where are we going?" the brunette asked flatly.

He took his God's hands in his so he could unfasten the chain that held him to the headboard. "Somewhere they'll never find us."

He felt Light's hands jerk slightly in his.

Frowning, Mikami looked up. He searched the brunette's face, but it was impassive and those eyes looked away. But there was something deeply disturbing to him about the other's flinching back.

"Maybe you should just leave me here - escape on your own."

"I couldn't abandon you like that--" Mikami reached out and touched Light's face. The skin of his cheek was soft and supple beneath his fingertips, as usual, but something felt wrong.

"Please. I'll be fine. I was fine before you took me away, was I not?"

Wrong, wrong, wrong, Mikami thought. Just what was it that felt off? There wasn't time for this!

He captured Light's chin with his fingers and turned the boy's head towards him. Those eyes remained averted. Determined now, and desperate for a quick answer to this pressing feeling of abnormality, Mikami tilted Light's face up to his and kissed him, catching a flash of wide eyes as he did so.

Echoed in the kiss was the same thing he'd sensed earlier, something like... fear.

Light's body was rigid, his mouth reluctant, and his bound hands were pressing weakly at Mikami's chest. Mikami deepened the kiss to see how he would react, his heart pounding faster in his chest.

This behavior...

This was nothing like before... if Light was trying to pull his strings, he was employing an entirely different method. Always before, the brunette had an aura of control. Of power. Just now, however...

His tongue stroked at the brunette's, feeling the tremulous quality of his mouth, and he found himself pushing the bounds of decency as he waited for the reaction he expected. It was not until he also ran his hand up the boy's thigh that the hands against his chest balled into fists and shoved him back.

"Don't touch me," the brunette said harshly, master of his own voice, though his body language ruined the effect.

This was not the harsh reprimand he could have expected. Light sounded cornered, as if uncertain of himself or the situation at large.

"Something is wrong with you," Mikami stated, gaining elusive eye contact. Hostility is a common recourse of those who feel fear...

"Something is wrong with you," Light snapped back. "Whoever is after you is welcome to it. I want no parts of it."

What could have happened in 15 minutes, but...

Mikami flashed back to when Misa had given him the notebook.

She had seemed a bit off during the time between renouncing ownership and touching the notebook that Mikami held out to her as instructed. She'd been startled, then, at the presence of her Shinigami and had doubled over, clutching her head for moments afterwards. She had never specified why touching the notebook after giving it up was important, but he suspected it had something to do with memory.

Mikami felt his hands grow cold, and anxiety clamp tightly in his gut. "You don't know who is after us?"

"After you," Light corrected. "And no, I fail to see why they would be after me as well; I've done nothing but get myself abducted."

He didn't remember? But.... Kira was the source of the notebook's power, was he not? Unlike Misa, if he'd lost his memories, was there even a way to bring them back? Would the notebooks even work if Kira was gone?

"You've forgotten? Forgotten everything?" Mikami said frantically, taking Light by the shoulders and shaking him. "Kira... the notebooks..." Would Kira have done this to him? Abandoned him in a fit of ire? He recalled the haughty look he had seen on the brunette's face, and he knew his capricious God was capable of it.

Panic was sluicing his calm, analytical thoughts.

Light's lovely face paled. "I don't know what you're talking about!" His eyes were devoid of the cunning they typically possessed.

Mikami felt something within him beginning to snap. He could feel that Light was assessing his situation, deciding what course of action to take, the expressions to make, how to act. Just like he had during the kiss. It was painfully similar to the way Kira's mind had worked previously, but there were no sharp smiles here, only confusion and the facade it was being swept under. Mikami's hands were shaking.

Despair was welling up within him, debilitating in its force.

"God," Mikami cried out. What then, had he worked for all this time, only to be left bereft of hope? He embraced the boy that was no longer Kira but the empty shell that once housed him, sorrow carving angry marks within his soul. "My God... why have you forsaken me?" The body in his arms felt fragile. Mortal. But it was beautiful... still so very beautiful. Hot tears spilled down his cheeks.

He could almost hear Kira laughing at him, endlessly amused at this little prank he'd pulled.

He looked up into wide amber eyes. Beautiful amber eyes. The flicker of fear there made God's death all the more real, all the more wrenching as he realized it wasn't only God he had desired, but God's vessel as well.

"Light..." Mikami said, speaking the mortal name as he bore the boy's body down onto the mattress. The brunette's entire body tensed, and he held it to him as he drank of those protesting lips. They were like wet silk against his mouth, and warm, inspiring fire within the cold shards of his grief.

If he couldn't have God, he could have God's image.

It wouldn't matter now, he could be as irreverent as he liked...

He brought Light's bound hands over his head and held them there. He ignored the boy's struggles. It's your fault. KIRA... You abandoned me! He had been betrayed in the cruelest way - when his back was turned. He had given Kira nearly everything... It was his mistrust of people that had made him withhold his name... but he had wanted to believe. He wanted to believe in Kira, offer him his life, to be used but never tossed away.

Light's skin was hot beneath his hands and trembled as he memorized the graceful lines of his hips.

He could lose himself in this body.

He could make his claim upon the perfection of this flesh, and within it, calming the maelstrom of his thoughts before spiriting him away.

He would.

He would break the innocence in those accusing, jewel-like eyes.

"Teru, stop this," the boy said then.

Calm. He sounded too calm and collected for this. Too in control. Too mocking with the pleading use of his name. "You never fed me anything but lies, did you?" he whispered sharply against the softness of his cheek. Coy. That was what the brunette had been earlier, when he said he'd never lain with a man. Anger leaked into his words, threats, "Who else had you besides Misa?"

It was so very hard to reconcile the two beings in his head. Light. Kira. He knew this was no longer Kira, and yet he was holding this boy accountable. Wanted to. There were too many similarities. He could see the ghost of Kira within him, haunting his mannerisms even now.

The brunette was shaking his head, wide-eyed as he denied it. "I never slept with Misa."

Lying by omission. Misa wasn't important. We both know she wasn't important!

"That isn't what I asked you," Mikami said harshly, sliding the protesting boy's pants down off of his hips. He watched the change in that lovely face, the way trepidation infected the serene mask he was struggling to wear. It started to fracture and crumble as he took vulnerable flesh in hand. "Who?"

"No one!" Light insisted, thrashing to get away. "No one, I swear! Don't do this!"

"Did they touch you like this?" he whispered in Light's ear as he stroked him. He felt cruel. Spiteful. Justified. "Did you cry out, or did you keep your silence and quietly shake?" Light's earlobe was delicate and soft between his lips. His scent was worth drowning in.

"No, no," Light said, though his body contradicted him by responding to Mikami's words.

---

Inside his head, trapped in his head, Light was in turmoil. He didn't know what was going on - all of his thoughts were dark, hazy and garbled - but he knew what was going to happen.

Disassociate.

He felt a vague attraction for this dark-haired man, and yet he felt sickened by it at the same time. And somewhere in all of it was the sense of impending doom, a fear for his fate at this man's hands, and the disjointed knowledge that the punishment he was undergoing would be fitting for some reason.

His mind focused on a different, more stable line of thought, following the shining thread of it, not minding the way everything else faded into the background.

He'd tried to prevent this, but had failed most spectacularly. He'd suspected something was strange when Teru acted differently towards him than he had before. But amnesia? How could he have anticipated such a thing or known that it would be the catalyst to set off the ticking time bomb that the man had embodied these last few days? The man was crazy, to say the least. Calling him 'God'? Keeping him locked in a room and chained to a bed?

This forced intimacy was only a logical conclusion to those things.

He'd seen it coming. He'd tried to head it off, but he was doing something wrong. Light had assumed that pushing Teru away when he'd kissed him would be a bad move, that it would be unexpected, but it seemed to go against what the man had expected, gaining him a closer scrutiny than ever before.

It was exceptionally hard to think. He felt distant, as if what was taking place was happening to someone else.

He struggled to pull his bound hands from the man's grip countless times. He was not strong enough.

"You're... wasting time," he heard himself say at one point, in a voice that sounded odd to his ears. Was it his voice? "Wasting time... on something like this. Fool. They're coming."

The response sounded like it was far away. He could barely make it out. It sounded like 'God?'

"If you like," his own voice replied. "Unchain me."

It was hazy, like a reflection in disturbed water.

Light missed the next snatches of dialog. His head was starting to pound and he felt nauseous.

Through the pain, however, he was starting to notice things. He could see the room again, his clothes were perfectly in place as if they had never been moved, and his head lay upon Teru's shoulder as his cuffs were being unfastened from the chain that attached to the bed. He had the distinct impression that some time had passed, but he had no way to mark it.

"I feel sick," Light said, unnecessarily.

Teru paused in what he was doing to hold his hand against Light's forehead. He seemed displeased with what he found. Worried. "You'll just have to bear with it." But his voice soon filled with new purpose. "You were right, we have to leave immediately."

"..." Leaving. The cuffs fell from his wrists. The word sparked unease within Light to rival the unpleasantness already residing in his head. Leaving was bad. Something...

"Wait here" Teru said. "I just need to grab a few things."

---

Mikami left Light sitting upon the bed, his head lolling to the vicinity of his knees.

It was irrational, odd and incomprehensible... but Kira was not gone. That voice, his God's voice, had spoken to him. He could never mistake those gripping tones.

He grabbed a duffel bag from the closet room and threw some clothes into it for both of them, along with a few bottles of water.

There was something different about Kira... his voice had surfaced like a shape in deep fog, becoming clear and then fading back again. He was not wholly present, but he had not entirely disappeared either. And, perhaps, he had not intentionally left me stranded. His memories seemed corrupted, but he was quick to ask about the notebook Mikami had mentioned. His speech, his mannerisms, and his eyes... all of them were right again.

His transgressions upon Kira's body would be overlooked, if he could only manage to get them out of here fast enough.

He was worried, though. He had no idea how much time had passed.

Not only that, his God had slipped away from him again, and Light had taken his place. He had no explanation, unless Kira was not always Kira, and this was merely the first time he'd witnessed the change. Or were Light and Kira the same, and something had happened to cause the strange split? Mikami frowned. What if Kira was merely trying to regain himself after such a thing? And here, he'd acted so out of hand towards God's mortal flesh in the interim... It was inexcusable.

He spared a glance at Light as he threw a few more items into the bag.

Kira or not Kira, he'd admitted to himself how much he desired the brunette. It manifested itself differently, depending on the being in control, but it was just as strong. With Kira, he had to be ever so cautious, waiting for that sharp voice to crack upon his ears with displeasure and rejoicing when it did not. With Light, the gloried shine dimmed enough to show that he was human.

Stunning, but human.

Vulnerable.

The feeling of Light in his hands... it had been more affecting than he'd thought. Seeing such helpless fear and frustration on the face he marked as Kira's... It had been nearly as thrilling as Kira himself allowing him close.

What would he choose, were it presented before him: the human or the mad god?

Would he always fear Kira, and death at Kira's hand? Or could he hope to gain his trust and favor?

Could the human counterpart be made to accept him, even without chains?

It was not, however, his choice to make. Whatever version the brunette became, it was important only that Mikami was with him and that no one would stand in their way.

He looked upon Light and the pathetic state he was in with sympathy. The boy's face was ashen. Mikami stroked his hair gently, a light, comforting touch. "Just one more thing and we can go." Once they were underway, he could take measures to see that the brunette got to feeling better. The bottled water was all they could manage until they were out of the immediate area. A drugstore would be a feasible stop sometime after.

"I don't think I can," Light said with difficulty. "Need to lie down." He had a hand to his head.

Mikami kept him upright, and knelt before him. He forced Light's eyes to his. "You're Kira. If you stay, they'll kill you." Light looked dizzy as well as in pain. His eyes were drifting as they squinted partially closed. "Do you understand?"

"Didn't before..." Light said in a faint voice.

---

The concern on Teru's face didn't make sense to Light. He thought he remembered the man doing... something... to him earlier. Something bad? Something... he didn't know. His head began to hurt when he tried to think of it.

But how could the man believe he was Kira? That didn't make any sense either. He wasn't a murderer. Kira was a murderer, a sociopath... he'd been helping the investigation that was working to stop Kira... He couldn't be a murderer...

Kill you...

Something about that rang a bell.

Where had he been before Teru took him away?

Wasn't he being held against his will? ((Kira.)) For... ((KIRA.)) He didn't know the reason why, but he supposed being a suspect in a murder case would make some sort of sense, though it seemed outlandish. But, he remembered someone there with him...

Black hair... dark eyes... Ryuuzaki.

Yes, Ryuuzaki. A detective who was working on the case. He didn't want Light dead. At least, Light didn't think so, but the name recalled a painfully tight feeling in his chest. It made him uneasy. They'd been fighting.

Did Ryuuzaki want him dead?

---

Mikami left Light's side.

He did not know for sure that anyone would try to kill the brunette if he were to be recaptured, but the information couldn't hurt if it motivated Light to come quietly.

The last thing he needed was the notebook which he had hidden in the cabinet beneath the sink, behind a piece of particle board backing that he'd loosened up.

Upon experimentation, he'd discovered that ink used in the death note, and the death note itself, were impervious to water. It was something useful to know, when considering out-of-the-way hiding places. Trying to write within a soggy death note was, however, annoying at best.

Once he had that in his bag, he could sling Light's arm around his neck and help him out of here...

Mikami walked out of the bedroom and froze.

In between the living room and the foyer stood a wild-haired spectre with white skin and flashing red eyes.

"You," he said in a strained voice, disbelieving his eyes, though he knew their perception was accurate. This was bad. Very bad.

It smiled viciously. "Mikami Teru."

---

Light heard a voice in the living room. It did not sound like Teru, but he wasn't sure.

He felt a moment of fear, thinking that the apartment had been overtaken by whoever was after the dark-haired man and, apparently, himself, but pushed his body to make it to the doorway. If they wanted him dead, he was dead already.

Dizziness skewed his vision and twisted his stomach. He leaned against the wooden door frame.

If someone was there, he could not yet see them past the dark-haired man's shoulders.

Then, Teru shifted, and he saw it.

---

Mikami turned as he heard a sharp intake of air from the vicinity of the bedroom. Light.

"R-Ryuuzaki?"

There, in the stuttered, false name of the intruder and in the expressions crossing Light's face as the brunette looked past him, was everything Mikami needed to know - L Lawliet, a look of vengeance and possessiveness on his pale face, was the enemy to all he held dear. The threat he'd told Misa to beware of. The threat Kira himself had ambiguously warned him from remedying.

This man...

This man had been his competition all along.

The superior look in his black-rimmed eyes said it was so - confirmed it. The sudden upward tilt to his lips, infuriating to behold, told him that this man had known his God in ways Mikami had only ever dreamed.

Slick, polluting anger filled him.

Delete.

Light was his. Kira was his God alone...

Delete. Delete.

His voice... his lips... his body... they couldn't belong to another. They were meant only for the most devout - those that would work to support his vision, not those that would tear it down! Not those who sought to destroy him! Or was that their plan? To tear Kira apart from every angle like wolves, defiling and corrupting every piece of him until he was nothing? This was their thanks for a pure world?!

"You!" Mikami snarled, jealous rage fountaining in his blood, the feel of Light's skin so fresh in his mind, the taste of him... "I should have killed you when I had the chance!" The taste of him rested lightly on his tongue like communion, like promises, and this man sheared through that like a wicked scythe; L Lawliet would destroy it all. He wanted Light and his eyes spoke of death.

"No!" Light shouted as Mikami made a break for the notebook.

---

Light thought at first that Teru was going to attack Ryuuzaki physically, a fight that would definitely be in the more well-built man's favor. Ryuuzaki seemed to as well, because his slighter body tensed at the other man's fast approach, but the lawyer veered before reaching him, darting into the kitchen.

The notebook! Light knew, somehow, that a notebook was hidden there. He scrambled after the dark-haired man, ignoring everything else. It didn't make sense, but he knew that it allowed the one using it to kill. He had to stop this! Vertigo washed through him, making him clumsy. "No!" He wasn't going to make it.

---

Mikami wondered moments later why he didn't just go for the scrap of the notebook he kept in the leftmost kitchen drawer that contained notepads and pens. But it was too late to change now. He wrenched the cabinet under the sink open and ripped away the loose board, triumphant fingers closing upon the death note and the pen conveniently clipped inside of it.

Delete!

He flipped it open before either of the others could reach him, and started scrawling the name with quick strokes.

Delete, delete, delete!!

His hand spasmed on the 'a' and he dropped the pen.

No...

Harder this time, the pain in his chest made him double over. He glared up at the man he'd tried to kill. His pale face was expressionless, his gaze shadowed; he might well have been a god of death for all the humanity he possessed. "How?" The man had the eyes, the red glow to them made it obvious to his own enhanced eyes. Just as the Shinigami's gaze appeared to be overlaid with a film like backlit blood, so were the eyes of those that had made the trade. But how could L Lawliet kill without a notebook? Without even a scrap of it? HOW?! "What did you..."

The world listed then, and Mikami felt cool tile press against his cheek. He barely registered that he'd collapsed on the floor. The pain shredding his chest was unbearable.

"Don't touch him," was all the black-haired man said in response. His words were meant, not for Mikami, but for the brunette who had dropped to his knees before him.

The last thing Mikami saw as his vision grayed was Light, held in place by a white hand that gripped his shoulder like a vice, his face written over with shock and horror.

The last thing he thought, though the pain drove nearly everything else out of his head, was that as last sights go, it was not a bad view.

---

TBC

A/N: I would like to have a moment of silence for Teru. It was seriously, excruciatingly painful for me to see things turn out this way, and it was very difficult to write. I think that with time, he would have redeemed himself but circumstance demanded his downfall. Infatuation, and yes, even love, had twisted him, but in the end (unlike the manga) he stayed true to Light/Kira. At least the last thing he saw was Light with an expression he could construe as caring - he didn't need to know that with Light's missing memories, anyone's death, right in front of him, would have been upsetting.

Just think. Since L said 'Mikami Teru' before Mikami did anything, he was killing him in cold blood. And, if he had not set the ball rolling, would Mikami have even tried to use the note? He was convinced kira was the source of the notebooks' power, and Kira's presence at this point was sketchy, so he probably would not have made a dive for it in the first place.

Conversely, if Mikami had not believed in Kira so devoutly, he would not have snapped, would not have wasted time molesting Light (giving L time to both receive the death note and come to the conclusion that he should trade for the eyes), and he might have had a chance at getting them out of there. Even if he was still caught by L, things would have played out quite differently and he would likely have remained living.

---

MIKAMI HATERS: I know you are out there. (You told me your little secret in reviews, haha!) Now is your chance to do a little dance over his unfortunate end. Forgive me if I do not join in the festivities, but I do hope you enjoy yourselves as you have suffered his presence for several chapters. :) Now the focus will be solely on L and Light again. (I do look forward to this, greatly.)