Death Note: Kira's Eyes

(Ryuk)

Light is jumpy, his head shooting up towards the door anytime a bump or thud occurs in the hall.  Adrenaline pumps through his veins, he sweats bullets as he writes name after name into the Death Note.  I can sense his fear, his concentration, his excitement, and his guilt.  So many emotions for such a small being; humans have become so much more interesting in my eyes.  I might have to stick around for a while.

You're quiet, Ryuk, he tells me telepathically, even his thoughts are in a monotone.

Your emotions have an impact on me, I reply.  I've never bonded with a human before. 

He laughs, the sound barely escaping his throat.  I'm the first human to pick up your Death Note?

I shrug.  This is the first time I've dropped it.

"So," he says aloud, his voice cautiously low, "why me, Ryuk? Did you choose me or was it fate?"

I smirk. "You honestly think that I just chose you out of the billions have humans on this planet?  No, Light, Destiny took it's grip on this occurrence.  You were in the right place at the right time, nothing more."  I move a step closer, an ominous look in my eyes.  "Your destiny is one of great mystery, suspense, and utter despair."

(Light)

Thieves. 
Murderers.
Rapists.
Child molesters.
Terrorists.
Drug lords.

Anybody whose name and face are online are not safe.  My hand trembles as I scribble down all these unworthy names, Ryuk behind me watching me intently.  My destiny, great, mysterious, suspenseful, yet despairing?  Nothing makes sense to me anymore, as if everything has become a mystery; my destiny.  I shake my head as if the action shakes the thought from my brain, but it has a tight grasp.  I really shouldn't worry about anything a shinigami says.  He groans disapprovingly, You should.

(L)

"Criminals everywhere are dropping like flies!" my assistant, Watari, exclaims as he follows me down the hall of a condo that we're renting in Japan.  "I believe your skills are required for this case, sir.  Please consider taking the case, I implore you."

"How exactly are they dying?"

"Heart attacks; all of them."  He takes a handkerchief and wipes sweat from his forehead, having ran up multiple flights of stairs.  "All were either incarcerated or wanted by any local or national government."

I mumble, barely audibly, "That anchorman died of a heart attack."

Watari continues, "They're from all over the world, most have died in the United States."

"The anchorman from Japan was involved in a sex scandal," I proceed, my voice increasing in volume slightly.  "He was caught with teenage girls, yet was set free and allowed to return to work on live television."

Watari looks at me solemnly.  "Go on, sir."

"Whatever's happening, it's centered in Japan."

"So, it's no coincidence that we're here?"

"No, not at all."  I look out the window, the city below me goes on about it's daily routine, unaware of the events that will proceed.  All of them, such a vast multitude, so oblivious to the world changing around them, whether it be for the better or worse.  All around them, the forces of good and evil fight for control, converging and separating then converging again tauntingly, all for control, fight to survive, while the innocent stand by and contribute to nothing but the death toll.  They alone can stand up for what they believe is right, and help whichever force they choose in the battle.  No.  They stand by and let the good decide it is their destiny to defend this vast, oblivious populace while they stand around and weep.  "It's fate," I breathe.

(Light)

News stations everywhere are going crazy with these "sudden mass deaths of the world's criminals."  I don't think they know what to do with themselves.  Can you not imagine a greedy news producer smiling behind a pile of money and gawking at the deaths because they become money in his pocket?  Such selfishness doesn't belong in this world; I'll have to get rid of scumbags like that later.

It's become increasingly difficult to work around my school schedule and continue writing names; I've gotten into the habit of writing a name or two every so often while I'm studying.  I realize how dangerous this is--what if my parents were to walk in and pick up the Death Note?  It would be suspicious for me to hastily throw it in the drawer, and locking my door irritates my father.  There is only one solution to correcting this mistake should it be made, and I have no problem with it.  Killing my family is the last resort. 

Suddenly, my body becomes consumed by shear delight, and I spin around quickly to look at Ryuk, lounging on my bed and devouring a red apple. 

"Where'd you get that?" a laugh shows up in my voice. 

He swallows what's in his mouth.  "There's a bowl full in the kitchen; I took a few when no one was looking."

"You're so happy over a little apple?"  The grin pulling on my face is irritating, I don't want it there in the least bit. 

He takes another huge bite, juices squirting as he crunches it in his mouth and swallows, all within a mere second.  "Apples to shinigami's are quite like alcohol to humans.  They're very addictive, and we can suffer withdrawal symptoms when we go without."  He finishes off the apple--core and all--in one bite.  Disgusting.  Yet I can't stop smiling.  Ryuk answers, as he reads my thoughts, "You understand that we share emotions, correct?  Well, some emotions are more powerful than others.  Before I ate that apple, you were relaxed and focused on your studies.  Obviously happiness is more powerful then indifference, so my emotions dominated over yours."

"That's not fair!" I giggle. 

"That's a bond."

An awkward silence forms around us; I sense malice....

Suddenly, Ryuk jumps off the bed, landing an inch away from my nose.  "You know, you may be able to feel my emotions and hear my thoughts, but there are things that I can do that you'll never be able to do."

I nod my head once, a signal for him to proceed. 

"I can see Heaven and Hell, Light; I know what they both look like."  His eyes narrow menacingly, "But you won't see either of them."

My palms begin to sweat.  "Where...will i go...whenever I die?"

"I don't know," he looks into my eyes deeply.  "Only humans who have used the Death Note know what happens whenever they die."

"When...?"

His voice turns hard, stern and he yells, "I'm not allowed to tell any human when they will die!"  He takes a few steps back, bringing out another apple from his pocket.  "I can see the name and lifespan of any human I look upon.  Shinigami eyes come in handy."  He takes a bite from his apple, both of our eyes dilate in joy.  My stomach rolls; this strange mixture of emotions is almost bringing me to my knees.  I laugh in my chest, his emotions acting like a drug against my system.  "You can have eyes like these, too, if you're willing to make a deal."

He takes another bite, the laughter escapes my lips and I hold my sides as I try to contain myself.  "What sort of deal?"

"You can have eyes like mine for the price if half if your remaining lifespan."

I want to panic, but Ryuk purposefully takes a bite of apple.  No other word except for joy can describe this; it's euphoric, almost.

"Say you have forty years left to live," he begins.  "By making this deal, you forfeit half of your remaining lifespan, giving yourself only twenty years left to live.  But in return, you'll have the power to see any humans name and lifespan, just like a shinigami."

I can see any name?  Know any humans name just by a glance?  Even if they were lying to my face, I would know and have the ability to annihilate them instantly?  It seems worth the deal, only how long will I have left to live afterwards?  What if I made the deal and was to die next week?  Tomorrow?  Today?  It doesn't seem worth the risk.  My head swarms with thoughts, and the mixture of emotions swelling in my chest makes the room spin.  Wave after wave of ecstasy hits me like a ton if bricks.  I can't help but to grin stupidly and shake my head "yes."

He laughs devilishly, "So we have a deal?"

"Y-y-yes."

I feel my chest tighten, suffocating me. and then suddenly release me. I don't feel any different.

Go look in the mirror.

Nervously, I walk out of my room and into the bathroom down the hall.  Above my head, red letters and numbers float, changing in size randomly.  "LiGhT yAGaMi  09 16 2008."

I'm dying next year....