AMERICAN STARLIGHT │ american psycho, death note

III

Patrick had offered a ride home on his cab, but Light insisted he had done enough. In truth, he didn't possess the mental capacity to endure another meaningless sermon. The subway station was only a fifteen minute walk from the restaurant, but Light didn't mention that. Somehow, he felt Patrick wouldn't take kindly to the fact he made use of public transport. Both the station and the train were almost unnervingly quiet, and there were no other passengers in his carriage. The tube lights flickered as he settled into one of the faded seats, wrinkling his nose at the faint odour of urine. 

He noticed a black notebook on the seat opposite him. Had it always been there? Light could have sworn he hadn't seen it a moment before. The wine from dinner must have been affecting his judgement. He hesitated before leaning forward and picking it up. It was nondescript, but seemed expensive, with a sleek leather cover and reasonable weight. The owner would probably want it back. He would hand it in to a station attendant tomorrow. He flipped the notebook over and noticed an embossed title on the front of the cover.

"Death Note?" he muttered out loud. It was probably just some edgy teenager's diary, but even they deserved to have their belongings returned to them. It would be nice to be a Good Samaritan.

The studio apartment Light was renting was modest, but suited his needs perfectly. Unlike back home, where his sister's stuff was strewn everywhere, his new home was immaculate. He kept only the bare necessities and everything was always exactly where it should be. The stocked fridge was the only sign a living, breathing human lived here.

He took a quick shower to wash off the subway grime before collapsing into bed. He was on the precipice of dormancy when the ring of his phone jolted him awake. He reached over to grab his phone, eyes still bleary and hit accept on the video call.

"Hi! How are you!" came his sister's bubbly voice through the screen.

Light sat up, fully awake now. "God, Sayu, I was asleep. What did I tell you about time differences?"

"Oops, I'm sorry," she said guiltily. "But you're awake now, so I guess it's fine."

Light considered hanging up.

"God, what have they done to you? You've only been in America a week and you're already getting chubby!"

"Sayu..."

"Okay, okay I'm sorry!" she laughed, throwing her hands up in mock-surrender. Really though, how's it going? Mom's worried sick about you. I had to stop her from trying to post side dishes to you the other day."

Light chuckled. Knowing their mom, Sayu was probably only half exaggerating. "I'm doing fine, really. Just getting settled into the new job."

"You're so boring!" Sayu whined. "Tell me about the fun stuff! Clubs, girls, that kinda thing. Hey, have you managed to go to Dorsia yet?"

"Does mom know that's what you're thinking of these days instead of your college application?" Light raised an eyebrow. "No, I haven't been yet, it seems pretty exclusive. My mentor did take me to this other restaurant though, you wouldn't believe the price of the bill."

"Ugh, don't remind me about my application." she groaned. "Everyone's on my ass about it. You'll help me with it, right? Wasn't yours one of the best in the country?"

"Of course I'll help, but I'm not going to be very useful to you if I don't get to sleep. I'll talk to you tomorrow, okay?"

He put his phone back on the side table and pulled the duvet over his head. Hopefully he would get at least a few hours of sleep before he had to go to work. But it wouldn't come. Instead, Light found himself thinking of the notebook from the train. He tried imagining the type of person it's owner was. The title made him think of a friendless highschooler, one bad day away from causing a national tragedy. But the full grain of the cover was much too luxurious for a teenager. He knew he should at least look inside, see if there was an email address or phone number he could return it to.

Silently mourning the few hours of sleep he had intended to get, he left the warmth of his bed and retrieved the notebook from his briefcase. He hadn't noticed it before, but it was icy to the touch, almost like metal. Light flipped through the pages, but they were all empty. No identifying information whatsoever. It would be unfair to the original owner, but since there was no way of finding them, Light considered keeping the notebook. It was the perfect size to carry around and take minutes of the meetings he had to sit in on. He turned to the first page to write down his information, not that he would be careless enough to misplace it, when he noticed text printed on the inner cover.

The human whose name is written in this note shall die.

This note will not take effect unless the writer has the person's face in their mind when writing his/her name. Therefore, people sharing the same name will not be affected.

If the cause of death is written within the next 40 seconds of writing the person's name, it will happen.

If the cause of death is not specified, the person will simply die of a heart attack.

After writing the cause of death, details of the death should be written in the next 6 minutes and 40 seconds.

Light scoffed. Was this some sort of prank? Some kid probably left it there hoping a person more gullible than Light picked it up. It was well thought out, he had to admit. They were clearly dedicated. It was a shame he'd been the only person on the train. But America was expensive, and he wasn't going to complain about free stationery.