evandar

Title: Rosary
Author: Evandar
Fandom: Death Note
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Character death
Disclaimer: I do not own Death Note or any of the characters herein.
Notes: This is fairly weird, which as it's based on Episode 25, is understandable in my opinion. Um...this is also a GiftFic for

shido, who gave me my first ever RL "write more!" review. Thanks for getting my ass in gear, I hope this is a suitable reward despite the rampant WTF-ery.

Ryuk had never understood humans. He found them interesting, but he could never understand them. That was why, even though Light couldn’t see him, he still hung around the headquarters for the Kira Task Force watching the two most interesting humans he knew; after all, Misa didn’t need him around all the time. And he wondered – how could he not? – if either of them had any idea how interesting they were.

Shinigami can’t have sex. That was why, when Light finally managed to talk Ryuzaki into bed, Ryuk found his level of interest go up a notch. Their whispered endearments – not supposed to be said or heard – and their frantic, desperate touches hidden under the cover of darkness were little more than sport to Ryuk. When Light said “I love you”, he laughed so hard he fell through the wall he had been hovering by.

Hail Mary,
Full of Grace,
The Lord is with thee.

“Have you ever, from the moment of your birth, told the truth?” Ryuzaki asked.

Light stood silently, watching as huge raindrops fell from the sky to batter Ryuzaki’s fragile-looking body. His hair, heavy with water, was no longer wild and spiky, and instead fell around his face, stark against his too-pale skin. Light wondered for a moment – forgetting his plans as Kira long enough to stare in awe at the person he knew must die, and wonder if Ryuzaki had any idea how beautiful he looked.

“I meant it when I said I love you,” he whispered, and Ryuzaki smiled.

He riseth from supper, and laid aside his garments; and took a towel, and girded himself.

After that he poureth water into a basin, and began to wash the disciples’ feet, and to wipe them with the towel wherewith he was girded.

John 13: 4-5

“Ryuzaki, what are you doing?”

Ryuzaki looked up from the foot he held gently in his hands – Light had such pretty feet – and into Light’s shocked eyes. They almost appeared red in the harsh light of the room, but the genuine look of surprise in them was reassuring.

“It will help you dry off,” Ryuzaki aid. “And I’ll give you a massage too: I’m quite good at it.”

“Do what you want,” Light muttered, clearly embarrassed by the situation. But the soft gasp he gave when Ryuzaki’s long, bony fingers gently dug into the arch of his foot was the most rewarding noise he could have made at that moment.

Like this, concentrating on the feel of delicate bones and tendons, and the returning warmth to the foot he held, Ryuzaki found he could ignore the sound of the bells still ringing – so loud, so close, maybe a wedding? – in his ears.

And while he yet spake, behold a multitude, and he that was called Judas, one of the twelve, went before them, and drew near unto Jesus to kiss him.

But Jesus said unto him, “Judas, betrayest thou the Son of Man with a kiss?”

Luke 22: 47-48

A soft, fluffy white towel landed on Ryuzaki’s head, jerking him out of his solemn reverie – had Christ felt this way at the last supper? Knowing that one of the men whose feet he washed would betray him to his death? For a moment, his wild thoughts becoming too much, Ryuzaki wished he had taken the Bible a bit more seriously when he had been made to study it.

Light was looking at him with concern. The artificial light behind him looked strange to Ryuzaki, as if it were trying to give him a halo in the shape of a rose window: the red of the stained glass in Ryuzaki’s mind matching the tint in Light’s eyes.

“What’s wrong Ryuzaki?” he asked softly – oh why did Kira have to return to him? Why, oh why, oh why?

“I’m sad,” Ryuzaki said. “You’ll find out why soon enough.”

Light frowned at him slightly. He took the towel back into his hands and gently began to dry Ryuzaki’s hair. He leaned forward, pulling Ryuzaki up so that they could kiss. Light regretted it for a moment; regretted that Ryuzaki had to die, but the feeling was brief, and it was lost to him the moment Ryuzaki’s phone rang.

Ryuzaki shoved his free hand into his pocket as he answered the phone, indicating for Light to follow him with a tilt of his head, to twist the rosary beads he kept there around his fingers. They were the last remnants of a childhood spent in a French Catholic orphanage apart from the echoes of Notre Dame’s bells in his head.

Mother of God,
pray for us sinners now,
and at the hour of death

Whenever he had watched his victims die before it had been impersonal: he had never known them, never held them in his arms, or kissed them softly in brief, stolen moments away from prying eyes. He had never wanted to cry for them before.

Light’s breath caught in his chest as the teaspoon fell from Ryuzaki’s fingers. When the detective went rigid – too rigid – in his chair, Light thought that he was the one having a heart attack. He darted forward at the last minute when Ryuzaki fell; catching him before he hit the ground and holding him close in his arms one last time.

Ryuzaki’s eyes were still open, the spark of life fading slowly from them, and Light stared into those big, black eyes and prayed that Ryuzaki could see past the triumphant smirk of Kira and see his tears as well.

Neither of them heard Ryuk’s hysterical laughter as it rang through the air; mocking the grief and despair of the Task Force. All they could hear were the tolling of bells.

‘A funeral,’ Ryuzaki decided: his last thoughts before his eyes slipped closed. ‘Mine.’

Amen.