Death Note Fan Fiction ❯ Rules ❯ Chapter 14 ( Chapter 15 )

Rules

 

Chapter 14

 

Light's feet hurt. Slowly, he peeled off his left sock and gazed at the damage. Huge red welts rose on the exterior of both his biggest and smallest toes, and the back of his ankle had chafed so badly that it was bleeding.

 

Goddammit!

 

"Oh, Light, that looks awful," Julie gasped. She crouched down in front of him, helped him remove the other shoe and sock, and examined his wounds. After a moment, she rose and said, "Let me get some cold water for you to soak your feet in. That should help with the pain."

 

"And an aspirin?" Light asked as she moved away.

 

"Of course. Coming right up."

 

Light leaned back into the cushions with a sigh and noticed Elijah for the first time. He had curled himself into a chair across the room and was watching Light carefully as if he might be blamed for the condition of the younger man's feet.

 

"Don't worry, 'Lij," Light said with a small smile. "It's not your fault. It's the fault of those idiots at the roller rink and their damn cheap shoes."

 

"Now, Light," Julie's voice called from the kitchen over the sound of running water, "you don't have to be so reserved just on my account. It's 'those fucking idiots' and 'their piece of shit shoes'."

 

Light couldn't decide what was funnier: Julie swearing like a truck driver or the utterly scandalized look on Elijah's face. In any case, by the time she came back into the room with two aspirin and a glass of water, he had a pain in his side to go with the burning in his feet.

 

The two of them had gone roller-skating, along with their other three friends and two girls that Annie had brought along. Yet another activity to cross off of Elijah's "list". The girls had expected him to be a complete klutz at skating and had bickered amongst themselves as to who would get to teach him, but Elijah had taken to it easily, gliding around the stunned women in circles with his hands in his pockets and a little smug smile on his face. Mark had laughed so hard at them that he forgot to watch where he was going and had run straight into a wall.

 

It had taken Light a few moments to realize why Elijah skated so well without any previous experience, but when he had stepped out onto the rink himself and began to skate, he understood. They were both consummate athletes. Tennis champions. They both had amazing balance and control over their own bodies. Memories from their old match had rushed into Light's head -- it had seemed like another lifetime ago -- and a very familiar competitiveness had gripped him.

 

For the next two hours, Light had been too busy racing, avoiding obstacles, and attempting tricks with his old rival to notice that his shoes didn't fit nearly as well as they should have.

 

"Here you go," Julie said, setting down a large basin of water on the floor in front of him. "Soak your feet in that for a while."

 

"Thank you." Gingerly, Light slipped his feet into the water. The cold assaulted him viciously and he grit his teeth against it, but eventually his skin grew used to the temperature and it began to feel good. He sighed and leaned his head back.

 

"Light?" Elijah had appeared next to him without him noticing. "Do you want anything? Coffee? Something to eat?"

 

"Coffee would be great," Light admitted. Elijah smiled at him and headed off for the kitchen.

 

"Well, I'll be in my study if anyone needs me," Julie announced, straightening up and stretching her back. She patted Light's shoulder as a farewell and walked away, stopping briefly at the kitchen entrance to tell Elijah where she would be.

 

Left alone, Light relaxed further into his seat and shut his eyes. Competing with Elijah had been a lot of fun. Unlike the tennis game when every movement had been a test to see if he was Kira and every action had been measured in percentage points, their games this afternoon had been innocent and friendly. Even when he lost, Light had smiled and laughed, and Elijah had laughed right along with him. It had been a long time since he had just let go and enjoyed himself like that.

 

This list, however, bothered him quite a bit. The moment Annie had first told him about it, he had suspected what it truly meant. He had kept on a cheerful face and congratulated her as she bragged about being Elijah's first kiss, but inside, the darkness had overwhelmed him. And the worst part was that even if Light asked, Elijah wouldn't be allowed to answer.

 

"Here."

 

Light opened his eyes and found a mug of coffee inches from his nose. He looked up at Elijah's face and smiled gratefully as he took it.

 

"Thanks."

 

"You're welcome." The blond returned to the kitchen briefly and then came back with a mug for himself and a small plate of chocolate-chip cookies. He stopped before Light on his way to his own chair and asked, "Do you want one? I know you don't like sweets, but I thought I'd ask." He grinned. "I made them myself."

 

Light chuckled and took a single cookie from the plate. He teased, "So you can cook if there's enough sugar involved?"

 

Elijah frowned at the implication. As he walked back to his chair, he grumbled, "It's not about the sugar; it's about the directions. 'Season to taste,' they say. How am I supposed to know how much to put in? And meat is impossible." He flopped down in his chair, put the mug and plate on the table next to him, picked up a cookie, and stuffed the entire thing in his mouth. "I tried cooking a chicken breast the other day," he said, somehow remaining understandable through the cookie, "and it looked just fine on the outside, but when I cut into it, the center was raw." Grimacing, he swallowed and lifted up another cookie to examine it. "I like baking. They have everything written down to the smallest fraction of a teaspoon."

 

Light had long ago put the cookie down, and as Elijah groused and complained, he just rested his head in his hand and listened. After a while, the other man noticed Light's silence and the small smile on his face.

 

"What are you looking at?"

 

"You," Light answered unabashedly. "You've changed so much that sometimes I forget who you are." He lifted his head from his hand and reached for his coffee. Teasingly, he added, "But then I see the way you sit or the hunch in your shoulders or those bare feet at all times of the year, and I remember."

 

"Would you like to forget?"

 

The question completely surprised him as did the quiet, melancholy tone of Elijah's voice. Light sat up a bit straighter and looked at him. He had his hands around his calves again and his chin in his knees. His eyes stared at Light without expression, but the younger man didn't have to see the emotion to know that he was hurting inside.

 

"Sometimes," he answered truthfully.

 

Elijah lowered his eyes but said nothing in response. The silence grew between them, and for a long time, Light did nothing to break it. He sat and drank his coffee, waiting. But when he had nearly finished the cup and noticed that Elijah had not touched either his coffee or his cookies, he knew he would have to say something first.

 

Putting the mug down, he stated quietly, "You have a time limit." Elijah's eyes lifted in surprise, and Light held them with his own. "Don't you?" he added, knowing that he would get no answer. "This list of yours. The things you want to do at least once. It means you have to go back." Unexpectedly, Light's throat tightened as he said, "Soon. Before this summer."

 

Slowly, Elijah's eyes closed and he turned his chin a bit down and away. That was all the answer Light needed. In a desperate attempt to lighten the mood, he joked, "Remind me again why you agreed to this deal." His voice was cracking even as he said it, though, exposing his true feelings.

 

"How are your feet?"

 

Light blinked at the change of subject. He sloshed his feet in the water a bit before he answered, "Better. The water's gone warm."

 

"Do you want me to make it cold again?"

 

"No. I think that's enough for now."

 

Elijah nodded and rose to his feet. Light watched him leave the room, confused, but when the other man returned with a towel, he understood. Carefully, he lifted his feet from the basin and let them drip a bit before nodding to Elijah and holding out his hand. To his surprise, the blond knelt down on the ground, pushed the basin aside, and grabbed Light's feet. Without a word, he began to dry them himself.

 

Light's breath caught in his throat. His mind reeled at the memories. Was Elijah trying to break him?

 

"Your friend," Elijah said quietly, his eyes intent on his work, "the one you said I reminded you of. Were the two of you good friends?"

 

Light swallowed hard. And now what was he doing? This man would be the death of him yet.

 

"Not really," he answered. His familiar lies and layered answers had fled, leaving him with only the truth. Light found that the words came easily all the same. Even couched in terms of the past, it was the only thing that seemed right in this situation. "I actually hated him most of the time I knew him, and I have trouble believing he thought that much better of me."

 

"Really?"

 

"Yes. Although, now that he's gone, I can't help but think that if I had tried to get to know him a little better, I wouldn't have hated him so much. We never could have been friends; the situation just forbade it completely. But maybe I would have acted a little differently. Maybe I wouldn't have hurt him as much as I did."

 

Elijah laid aside the towel and gently began to massage Light's left foot. "Are you sorry you hurt him?"

 

Light shut his eyes. These questions were piercing his body, straight through to his soul. "Yes," he answered, again truthfully. "I am."

 

"Well, I think he would forgive you then." The soft words forced Light's eyes open, and he found himself looking into Elijah's half-smiling face. "If you truly are sorry, he'd forgive you."

 

Light couldn't take any more. He leaned forward and grabbed Elijah's shoulders. Desperately, he cried, "There has to be a way to save you! Tell me there is! What can I do? I have to be able to do something!"

 

That sad smile appeared and crushed Light's heart. "I'm sorry, Light. I don't have an answer for you."

 

The younger man hung his head. His arms were shaking, and he couldn't stop them. "I have to be able to do something," he repeated in a whisper. "There can't be nothing.  There just can't. I can take life so easily. Why can't I give it as well?"

 

The gentle pressure began anew on his foot; Elijah had gone back to the massage. "I think that's why you're a Kira supporter, Light," he commented easily, as if Light were not Kira himself. "You can't stand not being in control. Not being able to change things that you perceive as wrong or bad. You can't accept that sad things happen to good people. It's a tribute to your kind heart, I suppose. To want to keep others from pain. But you need to learn to trust that, eventually, the universe will sort itself out. That all suffering souls will find peace."

 

"You're talking about the next life, aren't you? That's bullshit."

"Is it?"

 

Frustrated and ashamed, Light sat back against his seat. Of course it wasn't bullshit. Heaven and Hell existed; Ryuk had said so. And someone somewhere had sent L back to live as Elijah. But it didn't matter. He wanted Elijah to stay in this life.

 

"Light?"

 

"Yeah?"

 

"If someone gave you something -- like a book -- where you could write down two people's names and the one would die and give the rest of his life to the other, would you use it?"

 

Suddenly, all of Light's senses were alive with excitement. Did such a thing exist? The being that had revived L, did it have a book like that? Why not? Shinigami had Death Notes, so why couldn't creatures that brought the dead back to life have, for lack of a better word, Life Notes? Was Elijah giving him the answer he wanted? His mind whirled with possibilities and plans. Ryuk hadn't seen any ethereal being floating around Elijah, but that didn't mean it didn't exist. He could bring Ryuk back and have him search for it. Have him steal the book away. He might go broke from all the apples he'd have to use to bribe the crazy Shinigami, but it would be worth it. He would gladly give up his pocket money and then some if it meant keeping Elijah alive.

 

"Would you?" Elijah prompted at Light's silence. He had moved on to the right foot, massaging gently.

 

"Of course!" Light answered. "I'd use it without a second thought!"

 

"I wouldn't."

 

The soft statement brought Light's train of thought to a screeching halt. "What?" he whispered, disbelieving what he had heard.

 

"I said I wouldn't use it. Not for any reason."

 

Light growled deep in his throat with a growing anger and frustration. What kind of sick joke was this? It was certainly not funny. "Why not?" he demanded.

 

Elijah's fingers worked without the slightest pause. Carefully, he squeezed and molded the pad of Light's foot and occasionally ran a strong touch up or down the arch. Nothing in his movements or in the calm expression on his face suggested that the smallest bit of distress existed in him. He answered steadily, "Because if I've learned anything in the past year, it's that life is a precious gift that should be treasured above all else. It should not be taken lightly or treated with disrespect. There is nothing, not in this world or the next, that compares."

 

"But what of the people who pollute and pervert their lives with anger, hate, violence, and greed?" Light insisted. "Surely they are undeserving of the gift they've been given. What's wrong with wanting to give that gift to someone who'll appreciate it? Someone who will treat it properly and with respect?"

 

"What's wrong with it is that you'll be taking it from someone else," Elijah replied without hesitation. He lifted his eyes and gazed into Light's face. "Don't you see? It has nothing to do with law, morality, or ethics. It's simply that life is such a wonderful, amazing thing that I would never be able to bring myself to take one second of it away from someone else. Even if they're wasting it away, people deserve every single moment of the life they were given. I believe that. So even if I could, I wouldn't take life from anyone." He dipped his head again and finished softly, "Even to save myself."

 

Light hung his head in defeat. All his excitement and passion drained out of him.  There was nothing left to say. The door on this conversation had closed, the coffin nailed. Elijah was going to die before the semester ended, and there was nothing, absolutely nothing that Light could do about it. He felt utterly helpless and alone.

 

"Light?" Elijah whispered after a moment.

 

"What?"

 

"Are you crying?"

 

"No." He bit his lip hard, trying to stop the tremors in his shoulders.

 

Smiling sadly, Elijah laid Light's foot down in his lap next to the other one. "Good," he replied, playing along with the lie. "I've cried enough lately for both of us." Gently, he rested his hands on Light's ankles and leaned forward to touch the top of his blond head against the brunet's.

 

Light didn't know how long they sat there together. He didn't know how long it took him to stop the unfamiliar tears, how long before the stinging in his lip -- bitten so hard that it bled -- faded away into a dull ache that resembled the one in his chest. He didn't know how long he sat there and listened to Elijah breathe, listened to the ticking of the grandmother clock in the hall. He didn't know how long the comfortable spell lasted, wrapping them both in a kind of sorrowful peace.

 

But he did know that however long it was, it wasn't long enough.