talking to the moon [drabble]

2

"I know you're somewhere out there."

He should have left. He shouldn't still be standing there, looking down at his enemy's grave.

He'd already relieved his desire to gloat and cheer over the dead body of who the world knew as detective Ryuzaki - otherwise known as L.

Why had light returned?

There was nothing more he could do, nothing more he wanted to do ;
Returning to the grave was something light needed to do.

Perhaps he could finally grasp some form of closure,
or maybe this would confirm he could never reach such a thing -
Not with what little remorse he had left always tugging at the back of his mind to remind him that L was dead, and he was dead because of Light.

Thousands of people were dead because of Light.

He fell to his knees as the names of all these people clouded his mind.
Scribbles on paper, black ink trailing along the dotted lines.

Perhaps the saying 'the pen is mightier than the sword'  wasn't as ridiculous as Light Yagami had allowed himself to believe.

Who would have thought a pen could bring so many people to their demise?
Who would have thought a pen could possess so much power?

" You're somewhere... far away. Far, far away."

A shiver ran down the young man's spine, causing his body to shake with small vibrations.
He hovered over the grave once again, his silhouette illuminated by the pale moonlight.

Light fell forward, fingers gripping the dirt. The thought of dirt building under his nails wasn't his concern - odd, since hygiene and things of the like were some of the utmost important things to him.

His body shook, though no longer because of the cold air whipping the exposed parts of his neck. His torso wasn't convulsing with the psychotic laughter that often spilled from his lungs - no, now, his eyes had begun to water. Hot tears were streaming down his cheeks - they were flushed, puffy.

" I want you back. Come back. Please, come back."