Light Yagami x Male Reader

December 4, 2003 - December 5, 2003

You sat at your desk scanning the whiteboard absentmindedly, absorbing the information while you ponder. Usually the only person who lacked the numbers was you. You had never seen anyone else with only a name. What's even weirder is the fact that his numbers didn't just not exist, they were in plain sight the last time you saw him. Could it be that he now has the same power as you do? It might be a stretch, but it was the only logical explanation you could come up with. To test this theory, you'll have to test Light. That's it. I'll try to become friends with him then casually make a reference. If he acts shocked or nervous I can assume we are the same, if we aren't then he won't hear anything other than a bad joke. You didn't really care about Light. You were just curious. Who wouldn't be? Besides, this is the most interesting thing to happen in your dull life for a while.

"Well then, class is dissmissed." Light immediately sat up and swung his bag over his shoulder, eager to leave.

"Wait, Light!"
He turned his head back no more than an inch and gave a brittle close eyed smile.

"Sorry, I'm a little busy today."

"Yeah but... Are you feeling okay? Did something happen yesterday? You just- you just look tired." You cursed yourself for not even planning what to say beforehand.

"No, I feel fine," he adjusted his bag and walked out the door.

"You don't have anything to do. Aren't you just gonna go home and hang out in your room like usual? Y'know that guy, Light? He was staring at you all day. Hey, are you listening?!" Ryuk babbled on again.

"Don't talk to me. Unlike you people can still hear me when I talk out loud." Once Light got past the school gate he spoke, louder than mumbling this time. "What's not to stare at? He seemed nervous but there's no way anyone would suspect me this early. And of course I have something to do. Something very important."

___

Social anxiety may eating away at you but Light's pretentious demeanor sure spurred you on. He had barely said anything, but you're good at reading people. Although... one could argue that you were just annoyed by everything by default. Sauntering through the cafeteria entrance, you spot Light sitting alone as usual. After arriving at Light's table and receiving an ever-so polite "do you need anything?", you promptly seat yourself on the floor, in front of him to not trip anyone. Pulling out your bag, you swallow a forkful from your bento and raise your head from your back-pain inducing posture.

Well at least he'll pay attention now? Ah, spoke too soon. Light had gone back to eating his food blankly. "Y/n, is it?"
"Yeah."
"..." Belatedly registering he wasn't going to say anything else, you blurt out a question from the top of your head to break the silence.
"Do you... like reading?"
"Of course."
After a few more poorly executed sentences on your part, you were engrossed into the conversation, or rather Light himself. Turns out he'd read your favorite book too. It's expected that he's read it, it's fairly popular after all and considered a masterpiece, however you'd never met anyone who perceived it the same way you do. Something you truly loathe is people who misinterpret your interests. "You know y/n, you're pretty bright. Even I hadn't thought of some of that."

"Bright?" You squeak out a dry laugh. You're desperate for praise, but when you actually procure it you're at a loss how to react. "I... I guess I am. Thank you. I do well in literature, but for other subjects it's only parts. Like tasks that require spatial or abstract intelligence." Shit, he didn't ask for my life story. I sound like I'm gloating.

"Looks like lunch is over. I'm glad we spoke." You force yourself to meet eyes with him again. You're just in time to catch what you swear is a hint of his eyes crinkling, his once polite goody two-shoes semblance of a smile revealing evidence of life.
___

Idly flicking the fabric of your khakis, you watch TV as you await dinner to be prepared.
"We interrupt this program to bring you a special, worldwide broadcast from the ICPO, Interpol."
Worldwide broadcast...? Everyone in the world is watching this? The screen switches to another man, this one wearing a grave expression. He calls himself L and proceeds to rant about how he'll capture and sentence Kira. You'd heard about Kira from the ever abundant background noise at school, but the fact that it was serious enough to air a broadcast like this frightened you. Focusing back on the TV, the man is smirking like a child giggling at his own joke. "Lind L. Tailor" and the number scramble, which had already intrigued you since there were less numbers than the average person, both abruptly dissapear. You blink in shock but the man is already clutching his chest in agony, collapsing onto the desk.