Boys Don't Cry

The New World Has Come

[I kinda broke the "Wammy's House" rule with this, but I rewatched episode 37 and had to write this. Besides, it relates to L... kinda.]

He ran.

He saw himself years ago, a gentler face.

He ran.

He saw himself waiting, still.

He ran.

A pant attempting to advance into a cry was stifled, and his lungs threatened to give up altogether, like that of a fallen detective.

He ran.

He saw himself walking in the morning into the final exams, recognized by the others he passed.

He ran.

His hair bounced, and he wore a calm expression as he carried a notebook in his hands.

He ran.

The sun was setting into shades of saffron and cornflower blue, a placid color.

He ran.

He panted, and held his shoulder as he ran, as it was shattered and bleeding.

He ran.

He picked up the pace.

A shinigami watched him, a silhouette with a smile against a fuchsia compilation, like blurred floral print.

In the end, someone always has the upper hand.

A small choke escaped his lips as he entered a warehouse.

He saw a set of stairs.

The bloody eyes of the shinigami watched as the hand wrote each symbol. "Moon"; Yagami.

When he lay upon them, he knew death.

Like a broken doll, eyes still open. His mother's eyes.

A blonde girl in a black dress, trimmed in white, stood on the ledge of a roof as the fuchsia sky turned to darkness as the wind moved her hair and her skirts. She was very much alive.

Her eyes sparkled with light... or rather, were dimmed, for they sparkled now. Her dainty red lips complimented the perfect orbs reflecting the waning day. She closed them softly, as delicate things are to be treated, until they are broken.

He thought of the detective again, how even in death he had triumphed. How odd is it to be inside your mind, but a dead body, ceased to function?

His eyes slipped closed into the medium of nothingness, against the scenery of beautiful creation.

And it became dusky, the crescent moon revealing what the world had lost moments before.