Valerie's Writings

Author’s note: I was trying out perspective shifts in this one, and as a result, the story is split into 4 “chunks” by perspective: (1) L/Ryuuzaki, (2) Light, (3) 3rd person narrator (4) L/Ryuuzaki. I hope this isn’t too confusing!

---

The bells are ringing. Chiming, three or four different colours of sound. Great bronze bells swinging like pendulums from the rafters within the walls of the clock tower. Back and forth, back and forth. The sounds are like low claps, vibrating the walls and the floor of the structure. Strange I hadn’t heard them ‘til now. They’re peaceful in a way, but also loud and disturbing.

-

Any person who knows me will say: that guy has no traces, he doesn’t have a past. It’s true, I do act as though I have no past; never had one, never experienced childhood or maybe couldn’t remember it. To be honest I’ve forgotten quite a large bit of it. I don’t think about it often, by any means. I don’t mean to say that I’m ashamed of what used to be, or proud, or that I have any particular feelings towards it. Mostly I endeavor to keep it and any reminder of it separate from me, at a distance from my current life, so as not to jeopardize myself and the investigation. With a position like mine it is easy to forget that I was once very young, and very odd and inexperienced….

My memories almost all center around one orphanage, a place I lived in after my parents died or whatever caused Watari to bring me there. I don’t remember. The place was overrun with kids; there were probably enough of them to make a very small school. Being orphans raised in an isolated environment, nearly all of them were oddballs, emotional wrecks and antisocial overachievers; it was no surprise the way I came out. There were some kids who were always crying their eyes out, every day, and others who would bully the younger ones and pick fights with rivals and steal toys and food and money, every day, and still others who would sit in the corner and play fantasy games in solitude, obsessively, not making a noise for hours. The building was ran on a loose schedule. On some days, we’d gather around on armchairs and couches in a room with old man Watari, and all of us engulfed in thoughtful silence, we’d solve puzzles and analyze intricate stories, trying to beat the others and win the adult’s approval. Even then, as can be expected, I was a loner who lived only for the solution. I was rarely beaten.

But that’s not what I usually think about. When my mind happens to skip over thoughts of the past, I often arrive at the image of this cathedral. Not a very large one, but quite ancient from the appearance. To get there from the orphanage, you went through a cobblestone pathway behind the main quarters; you’d see the dome of the cathedral sticking out over the trees within minutes. Anyone could sneak out there if they really wanted to. But no one did, because they said it was haunted. I may have been its sole appreciator.

The air inside the cathedral was always cool and soothing. From inside, you could barely hear a single sound the world around you was making; only your breathing and your pulse made any noise at all. The ceiling was what made the cathedral so special. It was a wide dome made of hundreds of fragments of stained glass. Looking up at it was like standing under a huge, rainbow-colored umbrella. In the daylight bright colours swept across the surface of the glass, illuminating the stone tiles and the wooden benches below like light from a dazzling prism. It was a mysterious place.

Even if you never went through the giant doors of the cathedral or if you couldn’t see it, you always felt its presence. You knew it was just out of your sight; you could sense it lying there at the end of the lane, looming out from the ground. Even if you tried to forget about it, the bells reminded you it was there. On some days, it seemed like the bells would never stop their chattering, their competitions in making noise; on others, you’d wait carefully at noontime just so you could hear the delicate melody that one time in the day. Simply hearing them chime, at the same time everyday, their voices never failing—even through the rain, the snow, the dark and foggy days, the storms—it gave you a sense of peace with the world. It comforted me, even if I never knew why. When I walked outside alone, or when I sat by myself while the others played in groups, wondering if anyone would notice me, I hoped to hear those bells.

I hear them sometimes, now. It must only be in my mind. Maybe not.

-

Sitting at the console, staring into the caramel liquid in my tea cup, I heard the sound of drumming. It was very faint, coming from outside of the walls. It sounded like rain, rare August rain.

I heard bells.

I put the cup down on the counter and gave a quick glance over at Light, who was still sitting with his back straight and his eyes transfixed on the monitor despite working for hours without a break. I got out of the seat and headed for the stairs leading to the roof. Light didn’t ask me where I was going. I wasn’t sure myself, but there I was, climbing the stairs to the top of the building. My limbs felt an odd compulsion to move, and I let them.

The building has sixteen floors, so it took a bit of time to reach the top. When I reached the exit to the rooftop and pushed open the door, I realized what I had been hearing wasn’t a faint drizzle: it was pouring outside. The wind whipped at me, freezing cold; the sky bulged with storm clouds. It seemed logical not to go any further. Still, I felt drawn towards the outside. The noise sounded to me like it had whispering lips and tongues, beckoning me closer. Or I suppose I simply wanted a breath of fresh air. I wanted to be alone.

Out there, it was like being surrounded by a perpetual wall of noise, crashing down in sheets. Drumming on the concrete, throbbing and thrumming around me. Clattering against the metal struts of the satellite tower. The rain was relentless today. Within seconds I was soaked, and even the skin under my clothes was wet and cold as ice. I felt like I should be shivering and moving somewhere under shelter, but I found I didn’t care enough to do anything. I just stood there letting it pour on me. I lifted my face, letting the wind tear at it and the rain hit my eyes.

I had to experience this at least once in my life, I thought. Just standing still under the downpour. After all, who knew how many chances I had left.

This might be my last.

I tried not to let it get me down. I had anticipated a situation like this, hadn’t I? All along I’d known. The possibility of death, and failure, had followed me closely every day for the past weeks and months. Watari had tried his best to shelter me from direct danger, but I chose to oppose him, in so doing entering my life and identity into the gamble. Every time Kira made his next lethal move, I gathered the faltering strands of my courage and swore to myself again that justice would take priority over everything including my own life. Nothing had changed significantly since those times. The risks just happened to be far greater now than ever, that was all.

So what. Nothing was over yet. It was still just a race to see who could put the other to death first. Once I confirmed that the 13-day rule was a fake, I could hope to arrest Yagami Light and Amane Misa once again. The critical fault: doing so would require at least thirteen days, and unless my theory was mistaken, Light would undoubtedly try to sabotage it….

I won’t make it.

With a painful lurch in my stomach, I realized I couldn’t survive for thirteen days—not unless every one of my suspicions about Yagami Light, and Amane Misa, had been unwarranted. Yet, unless I went ahead with the plan, there was no other way to prove the two were guilty.

How will it feel to die from one of Kira’s heart attacks? I wondered, a shiver crawling up my spine. Two or three seconds of pain, and then no more? And then everything I had worked towards would be over. In two or three seconds, it would all be rendered meaningless.

Suddenly, I was standing under the umbrella of the cathedral again. I saw the stained glass glowing vividly above me, yellow and blue and red. Feeling protected beneath it, fearless within its walls.

I hear them, too!

I felt a thrum of excitement inside me. The drumming of the rain no longer sounded like rain. Quite clearly, I could hear a series of short chiming bells ringing above the slashing howl of the wind. They must be somewhere far below in the city, but I could hear each ringing toll perfectly, as if the bells were calling out for someone. The sound was so otherworldly, I thought I must be imagining it. But no, I could hear them. I pictured them swinging on their hinges, rising and dropping, and rising…

It was a while later when I noticed someone standing on the side and watching me. It looked like he had just gotten there.

It was Yagami Light.

I turned to look at him, wondering what he must be doing here. He was wearing a puzzled, faintly amused expression on his face. Obviously he had followed me. So, I thought, he won’t let me out of his sight even for a few minutes. I tried not to contemplate the meaning of that just now.

He was calling out something to me. The noise of the rain, and the bells, was practically deafening, drowning out anything he said. I cupped a hand behind my ear to show I hadn’t heard.

With an exasperated expression, he raised his voice and yelled the same message. This time, I heard what he said, just barely, but I couldn’t reply without shouting myself, and I wasn’t in the mood for a shouted conversation. So I again raised a hand to my ear, smiling this time.

Finally, and with obvious annoyance, he stepped out from the roofed area and entered under the downpour, shielding his face and watching his feet carefully as he moved to navigate the puddles. He stopped a little distance from me, frowning skeptically.

In the back of my mind I knew I must look a sight, sopping wet and standing here outside for no apparent reason. But the only thing on my mind at the moment was Light. Between the two of us, we rarely ever smiled at each other or laughed over a joke like normal friends. His was a difficult face to read, probably intentionally so. A mind like his meant anything was possible: behind that plain expression, could he be even now plotting the death of his enemies? Could Kira be at work behind those unassuming eyes?

And yet, to be wary of him was not so simple. It was frustrating…. Despite all this and all that had happened, I still could do nothing to shake the feeling, however distant and vague, of liking for him. It was only natural, I supposed; we had been through so much together, so many days, meals, hotels, fights, emergencies. Despite everything, it had always been possible—since the very beginning, the very first day it all started—for the two of us to get along perfectly well. Finding an equal match in brains was not such an easy task for me.

He shook his head as he looked at me, his face already streaked with rain.

“What are you doing out here, Ryuuzaki?”

He suspected everything, as always. Though he tried to sound casual, I knew he just wanted to uncover my intentions, if any. Even if there clearly was no reason this time.

“Nothing worth mentioning,” I said, turning away from him. In the background I realized the bells were still chiming excitedly, ringing again and again through the rain. I concentrated on the sound. I wondered whether to mention it.

“The church bells…” I began, nodding up at the sky.

Light’s frown deepened. “Church bells?”

“Yes,” I said. “They’re really loud today, hm? I wonder if they might be having a wedding at the church… or maybe…” I thought of going on and saying “a funeral,” but didn’t.

Light was looking at me like I’d gone crazy.

“I don’t hear anything,” he said, after pausing to listen for a moment.

“Really?” I said with surprise. “Oh…”

From the way he was staring at me, he seemed to think this was all a big joke of mine, and was tired of it.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Ryuuzaki.”

I looked away. He was probably right. I had been sure I had really heard it this time, but it must only be my imagination again. It was true, they had been ringing for an awfully long time. I could still hear them chiming, far in the distance.

No. It was in my head.

“Sorry. It’s true,” I said, “everything I say is nothing but nonsense. You don’t need to believe any of it.”

At first he seemed surprised at the honest confession, but then he merely laughed. “Hmm, that’s right,” he said, chuckling. “Most of what you say turns out to be completely off the mark. If I believed it all, there’d be no end of trouble!”

“It’s true.”

Who knows what made me say what I said next. Even though I believed what he had said was true, I didn’t like to see him acting so smug; when in fact, with respect to credibility, he fared worse than me.

I glared at him. I felt cross for the first time in a while.

“But, doesn’t the same apply to you?”

“What are you talking about?” he said innocently.

I knew, whether as Kira or just as my friend Yagami Light, he wouldn’t appreciate what I was about to say. But I didn’t care. I was feeling strangely tired around him today, tired of pretending….

“In your whole lifetime, have you even once uttered something completely true?” I asked.

His reaction came almost instantly. I knew a person like him would hate being called a liar more than anything. By the look on his face, he seemed displeased enough to throw a punch at me had he been any closer.

And then, just as soon as it had contorted, his expression smoothed out, as if he were saying to himself, I’m used to tolerating this abuse.

He sounded completely neutral when he answered: “Of course I might tell a lie every now and then. Who doesn’t? Humans are not perfect; you can’t expect them to always be honest. But,” he said in a different voice, meeting my eyes carefully, “I’ve made a point of never telling lies that hurt others.”

I nodded. His response was not unexpected, of course, but it was still strange to hear him admit, essentially, to being untrustworthy and dishonest with me. Something foolish inside me had probably hoped he would have been able to say, truthfully, “I didn’t lie about us being friends.” Of course, that was stupid….

“I see. I thought you would say that.”

I thought also that he would continue to argue stubbornly about human nature, but instead, he dropped the subject and, wiping his face with a hand, merely shrugged in the direction of the indoors.

“Come on, we’re getting soaked. Let’s just get back inside.”

I wanted to stay just a little longer, but even I had to admit I was becoming too freezing wet to be comfortable. And besides, I was expected to be present at the console during all but a few hours; the “break” had gone on long enough. Following his suggestion, I made my way across the roof and went through the doors after him.

Just as I slipped inside, I realized I couldn’t hear them any more. There was no high chime breaking through the clattering rain. They were gone. Now, it was just rain and wind. It made me a little sad.

When we got inside, the guy was acting even stranger than before. We had found towels to dry ourselves off with, and while he was in the bathroom, I sat on the stairs busily mopping up my hair. The clothes would probably be wet the rest of the day, and I hadn’t brought any change for them. That Ryuuzaki. Even when he was just being his stupid old self, he was causing all sorts of trouble for me.

Or maybe he had been hoping I’d go home early today, instead of hanging around investigation headquarters and observing what went on like usual. Ha, a little bit of rain like this won’t be enough to do that for you, L. It was obvious he suspected my continued presence here as the actions of Kira, but at this point it didn’t matter much to me. Soon, he’d be finished; if it wasn’t Rem who did it, it’d be Misa… or even me, if I was lucky. Either way, these days were definitely some of his last.

I guessed I had better “enjoy” his company while I still could.

I could’ve gone ahead without him, but I sat there waiting until I heard him step out onto the stairwell behind me. I could tell he was watching me from the way he just stood at my back without moving.

“Wow, we sure are soaked, aren’t we?” he said in his low, flat voice, as if what he was saying wasn’t obvious. It irritated me, how he made it sound like he didn’t have any recollection at all of how that had happened.

I wiped my forehead with the towel and then brushed it through my hair, my eyes closed impatiently. “It was your fault for standing out there, remember?”

“Yeah. Sorry about that.”

His voice was always quiet, but today I was noticing he sounded even more resigned than usual. It felt strange. Maybe he was just tired, but it sounded like more than that… considering the talk about bells and that other nonsense.

Whatever, I thought. It wasn’t the first time I’d suspected the guy had problems.

I heard him moving closer, but with my eyes closed, I didn’t realize he was right in front of me until I felt him touch me—doing something that, even given his past history of actions, caught me completely by surprise. He was crouching on the stairs below where I was sitting, and while I wasn’t watching, had grabbed one of my bare feet in his hands. Even when I had opened my eyes and seen him there for several seconds, I couldn’t believe what he was doing. I wanted to pull away, but something about the way he was looking at me made it difficult.

“What are you doing?” I said, incredulous. I knew my eyes must be wider than ever, but whose wouldn’t, in a situation like this?

He seemed a little put off by my reaction, but didn’t let go. “Oh, I just thought…” he was mumbling, “since you were drying yourself so fervently… maybe you needed some help.” He looked up at me without embarrassment, as if what he was doing was completely normal—while the eyebrow I was cocking at him grew even more pronounced. Yet his expression seemed to silently ask for my permission; I knew he would probably stop if I insisted.

His hand was cold; so was my foot. It felt too weird.

“I’ll throw in a massage?” he said, his expression unchanging.

Personally, I thought if he wanted to do it I wouldn’t mind; but even for Ryuuzaki this didn’t seem normal. Why was he being like this all of a sudden?

“At least let me atone for dragging you under the rain,” he explained. “I’m not too bad at it, either.” He lifted one of his hands to show what he meant.

He hadn’t really convinced me. I was almost about to point out to him that we were both grown-up guys, in case he’d forgotten; though, from the look on his face it was obvious that didn’t matter to him. Playing the part of his friend, I supposed there was only one choice.

“You do whatever you want,” I said, turning my head away.

“I will.”

He said nothing more, and his hands began to work immediately. I had never had this done to me before, and the last person I expected to learn it from was Ryuuzaki… L. His grip on my foot felt bone-crushingly tight, like he was trying to cause me pain rather than help, and for a second I wondered if this was his idea of some kind of joke, or revenge. He sure was putting a lot of effort into it, even though only his hands moved.

I winced as he pushed something in what felt like a very wrong direction.

“Hey!”

“You’ll get used to it soon,” he said calmly, not looking up.

It went on for minutes, without either one of us talking. It wasn’t so bad after a while, but I couldn’t relax enough to enjoy whatever he was doing. But there was no doubt that he was genuinely trying to do it well, and as always all I could think about was whether, after all the months of suspicion and what he had said just ten minutes ago about my lying, whether he honestly liked being around Yagami Light, even knowing he was Kira. Because that was what he seemed to be trying to say here….

But, I thought, you don’t like Yagami Light enough to stop chasing after Kira, now do you.

And what d’you know, Ryuuzaki: you were right. The same does apply to me.

I felt a cold spatter of water hit my foot, and immediately realized it had come from Ryuuzaki’s sopping wet hair. I paused to look down at him, but he didn’t stop the massage. Until now, I hadn’t noticed how wet he was still; his wild hair was stuck to his face, the long ends dripping all over the stairs and onto his shoulders. He looked miserable and cold as hell; no wonder his hands still felt like ice against my skin.

Without thinking about it, I bent forward to wipe his forehead with my towel; almost as if he had expected it, he didn’t move away while I did it.

“You’re still soaking,” I said chidingly. I was going to continue what I was doing, but he finally let go of my foot just then.

And then he said something strange, something that made me stare at him. He was looking at the floor, and from the way he hesitated, I knew he had been waiting to say this all along.

“It feels so sad, doesn’t it?” he said, using a low voice. He sounded as plainly unemotional as usual, but this time there was no hint of a joke in his expression; it took me a second to realize he meant what he had said. I hardly had time to give him a questioning look, before he had fixed me with a hard gaze. “It’ll soon be time for us to say goodbye.”

What? I frowned at him, not understanding. Was he going somewhere? Without informing anyone in advance? It was definitely possible—and it might be enough to foil my plan of killing him for some time. Judging by his expression, though, he didn’t seem to be planning anything at all; and I doubted he could suspect me enough already to just leave headquarters like that. Maybe he was just continuing the nonsense from before. Whatever it was, I didn’t like it.

Before I could ask, his cell went off. He excused himself in a mumble and answered the call immediately, turning away from me.

“I see,” I heard him say quickly into the phone. “Right. I’ll be there in a second.”

I heard him give a small sigh as he flipped the phone off, pocketing it, and then turned to me. “Well then. Shall we go, Light?”

I nodded, noticing he had returned to normal again. He was already leaving without me, and I hurriedly got up to follow. I felt suspicious as ever of him. Whatever he was planning, it seemed like his preparations had been completed. If he was leaving for someplace, I wanted to find out where and why immediately.

I followed him in silence through the dark corridor to the elevator, and he didn’t speak at all until we had reached the main console where everyone was already waiting.

-

They were all quite unsettled about what he had done. Matsuda was shouting, “Ryuuzaki, are you going to explain this?” as he made his way into the room, Light following behind him. The other members of the task force were gathered in front of the computers, turning around to look at him with clear doubt and surprise on their faces. He ignored them and took his place behind the main computer, which was currently emblazoned with a large “W”.

“Watari,” he said softly.

“Preparations have been completed for the transfer of the notebook,” the voice answered from the computer.

A blaze of voices broke out as the task force—and, as he had expected, Light—made various heated objections, while he attempted to explain and get them to settle down.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Light shouted angrily at him.

Ryuuzaki didn’t look at them; he faced the console and was calmly observing the screens in front of him.

“I have requested permission from a ruined nation to use the notebook in an execution.”

“But who’s going to be writing in it?” Matsuda protested desperately. “You have to continue writing names every 13 days for eternity, or you die!”

“We will make a probationary deal with an inmate who is due to die within 13 days,” Ryuuzaki explained. “If he is alive after 13 days, we will remove him from death row.”

If his theory was correct, he knew Light would be bristling at this right now. Then kill me, Light! he thought. After thirteen days, it will be your turn to die. It was too late for Yagami Light now; soon, if everything went according to plan, they would have to say goodbye. Kira was trapped.

His heart raced, excited that things were moving forward again.

But it was the chief this time who stepped forward and shouted at him: “But—but you cannot do this with people’s lives!—”

“We are almost there!” Ryuuzaki yelled back, losing his calm for an instant. “Once this is done, the solution will be just one step away!”

And then, just as he finished speaking, the power went out and they were all left in the darkness.

-

It is no coincidence. This is happening in order to stop me. Someone conspiring against me. True, there is a storm outside, but this is more. The overhead lights have all shut off, leaving the room awash in the white light of the consoles, running now on auxiliary power. I can feel my heart pounding, and I have every reason to be afraid, but I don’t move. Everyone else is panicking and shouting enough already as it is.

I think of contacting Watari to get to the root of the problem, but before I can speak, I hear a noise coming through the speakers. Even through all the noise and confusion, I recognize it immediately. Watari is gasping in pain.

I don’t jump to any conclusions yet, but the heavy dread is like a physical pain. The blood in my head pounds hotly. My chest is solid ice. Time has suddenly slowed to an excruciating crawl.

I call him through the screen. I pray that he has just injured himself by accident, or at least that the attack has not been fatal. But the noise he is making grows louder, nearer, more severe. He sounds just like he is dying.

“Watari!” I yell. No one else in the room seems to have noticed what is happening to him, and for a second there’s silence as everyone turns towards me.

And then, in the very next instant, it happens, and I realize it is all over. It takes only a second, but it changes everything. Suddenly, nothing matters but the present; nothing but these very seconds count. It is as if my entire lifetime is a tangible thing, and I am holding it in my hands now, trying not to let it shatter or be stolen. My hands are shaking.

Watari has done as I instructed, and has erased all the data from the investigation off of the system, as his last duty. It is all gone. He is dead.

“What’s happening?” I hear people yelling behind me. “All data deleted!” “What is the meaning of this?”

I explain. I sound calm. My heart is nearly exploding, bashing my ribs like the clanger on a giant bell. But no one knows how afraid I am. Maybe there’s still a way… maybe there’s still time…

How could this have happened? Even I don’t know. Think, think! As much as I want to think otherwise, Light couldn’t have done it. He wouldn’t kill Watari first. Watari’s identity is too much trouble to expose. Light couldn’t have done it.

I almost feel sick, with the way my heart’s beating. I’m sweating. I have to think.

Light, no; Amane Misa—no, it wasn’t them! Someone else… who else…

I catch my breath, realizing there was a factor all along that I had never even considered, blinded as I was by the two Kiras: the shinigami!

“Where is the shinigami?” I say, my voice loud and clear. Even I am surprised at how calm I sound. People said I was always frighteningly calm in an emergency; I never believed it until now. No one would even guess that I know who will be next to die.

The voices of the others falter uncertainly as everyone in the room realizes, with a rush of panic, that no one knows where she’s gone. So it’s her. My mind tumbles haphazardly over the possibilities: to have killed Watari makes her an enemy of the investigation. That means, for whatever reason, she’s on the side of Kira… of Light. Bearing that in mind, we can assume she was lying before when I asked about the torn notebook. Then, it works out: I was right. On that night in the helicopter with Light, he must have…

I notice the tears standing at the edges of my eyes. The image of the cathedral flashes in my mind for a second. I take a deep breath and it disappears, along with the tears.

It’s all right. I still have time. It’s not over.

I’m more convinced than ever that Yagami Light is Kira. I know I must defeat him. The only thing I have left to do now is to defeat him. My mind has no other thoughts. All the emotions have suddenly hardened into a pure courage.

Although my throat has gone completely dry, I still manage to speak. I don’t turn to anyone, I just yell, loud and clear:

“Everyone! It’s the shini—”

My chest explodes with pain. I don’t finish. I never finish. It’s too late. It takes me several seconds to believe it has really happened, even as the fissure of pain erupts inside me.

The brilliant light in front of me blotches out and turns black. I think I’m about to throw up, but nothing comes and then my throat’s blocked, I’ve stopped breathing. My head throbs. Can’t see. Can’t move. Blood rushing. Panic like I’ve never known. I realize it’s my whole body that’s paralyzed. I should be struggling but I’m not; nothing moves. I don’t think I’m alive. I feel weightless. I’ve lost track of where I am.

I hear them. The noise thunders in my ears, vibrating every inch of the world. Each toll brings them closer and larger, until I hear nothing else. And then I see it, too. The cathedral’s roof spreading above me like a painter’s canvas. The colours are so vibrant, even brighter than my imagination. The light of the sun strains through the glass, warming my eyes. The bells… I realize, they’re playing for me.

Brightness fades. I see Light’s face staring down at me. I’m puzzled. He looks so shocked. I realize that nothing matters to him right now except me. It means I’m dying. Strangely, I feel nothing.

One last conversation, that’s all I wished for. Enough time, enough strength, to tell him. I wanted my lips to move enough to say to him and to everyone: “You’ve won, Kira.”

He’s holding me, and through the darkness I see his eyes watching me without blinking, darting everywhere across my face, and I think he might start crying or screaming, realizing now that Ryuuzaki has been killed. But his face doesn’t move. He only stares at me, every muscle frozen in shock.

And then I understand. I understand the game that I have been playing with him for months and months, the game that I have lost.

Because he gives me a smile. As if the flood of relief is too much for him to resist, as if he has waited unbearably long just to experience these few seconds of triumph. He knows what I wanted to say, and he agrees. The smile that flashes across his face transforms him and everything I’ve known about him in a single instant. It is the most genuine smile he has ever shown me.

Right, L, a mocking voice rings in my mind. You have lost.

I see the smile crease his lips for only a second longer—

you must be so happy now, Light…

—before the face slips away from L for the last time, and the darkness becomes total.

-

The bells were clanging insistently, one after the other, urging him away. Light blazed in his eyes as the stained glass umbrella appeared in front of him once more. But even this was growing dimmer, the image fading more completely every second.

Light. I guess I never was wrong, was I?

No one responds but the bells. There is nothing else.

I mean, the bells, Light. You can hear them, can’t you?

Then he realizes he is gone, too.

Light, I knew it…

You always could hear them.

-

The bells were ringing. They sounded so brilliant, echoing the same melody again and again as if they didn’t know how to stop, happily scattering their music to the skies. They rang and rang and rang— and then they, too, became silent.