Chapter Text
“No! Please! It’s not me!” His own, usually composed voice is begging, desperate.
The men dragging him out of his house hide their faces beneath masks.
Their grip on him is tight, and he knows he can’t escape.
“I’m not Kira! You have to believe me!”
Struggling wouldn’t help him anyway.
L glares at him from a distance, climbing out of the helicopter.
“Officers, please escort Kira into the back of the helicopter. He will be safely transported to a maximum-security prison.”
What? No… No. No! NO!
Light screams out in anger, unintentionally convincing the detective of his guilt.
“NO!”
The last thing Light sees before the end of his old life is his father’s tearful, disappointed face by the house…
Directed at him.
______
Light woke up with a gasp. He clutched at his heart and tried taking deep breaths. Slowly sitting up, the convict wiped away the sweat on his forehead from the dream and reached for his lamp, one of the very few luxuries he had been allowed since he had no window, but only after his therapist had informed the prison ward that Light’s sanity was at an even greater risk if he were constantly trapped in the dark.
Glancing at the door, Light saw a tray of food near the cuff port and reached down for it, not caring that the slop served was truly disgusting. He shoved it down nonetheless since the next meal wouldn’t be coming for another couple hours, and the prison guards always came by to collect the trays after each mealtime.
Soon, the familiar clank and rattle of the metal door shifting started. Light stood up to offer the guard his tray as he did every day.
But the visitor at the door was not one Light had been expecting to see… ever. The convict collapsed back on the bed stunned as if a shinigami itself had paid him a visit, and his tray clattered to the stone floor.
“Light,” L greeted him at the door, his face expressionless.