Me & Her

Me

There is a phone in my hand.

My mind reboots, taking in the memories that I've missed. Dr. Light's shoulders slump once he realises what's happened. I look up at him, pleading.

"Please. Don't".

"I have to," he whispers. "She is a liability, a danger". Anger starts to boil. Determinedly, I hold my ground.

"Is that what they told you?" Why would he believe their word? Why would he believe mine?

"You have to understand what I'm telling you. She is more than dangerous. Three years ago, she killed several operatives. One of them was my friend". He trails off, downcast.

Whatever I'm about to say dies in my mouth, leaves a copper aftertaste.

His friend.

Alyssa never told me that. Perhaps she doesn't remember. Then again, perhaps she does.

Ashes slather my taste buds, leave me empty. Emptier.

"Have you always worked for them?" He nods. Once. It is a struggle to believe him. Or to believe that he believes them. She wouldn't have killed those people. Or would she? I don't really know her at all.

But, if we're the same person, how can Light not bring himself to hate me too?

'He's lying. Always the liar,' Alyssa snaps. All of these questions and answers tangle in my head. Too much. Too fast.

"I...I can't accept anything you're telling me, not without proof. Was there a body? Did you see your friend's body?" Light is fully taken aback. The usual pristine exterior is cracking like a forged canvas.

"Yes".

"How was he killed?" I press on. I know, for once, I know what's right. I know I'm right.

"He was shot". Nodding, I place the phone on the cushion beside me.

"I can't remember much," I begin. "But what I can remember is the truth. I went to a fancy-dress party when I was six and she ruined it. I endured session upon session of various people telling me how to act or how to feel. That day, three years ago, I do remember the blood on our hands. But we never had a gun. Those operatives, they were sent to capture me. They had tranquilisers; they didn't have real bullets".

It's more than I've ever said to him, ever spoken before.

I am standing a little taller, a little straighter. I can feel it. Deep down in a chasm of my mind I wasn't sure existed. The explanation crackles past, leaving more questions than answers. If those operatives didn't have bullets, where did the blood come from? Why did they have to die?

"I've been honest with you," I breathe as he seats himself on the opposite chair.

"Could you be honest with me?"

Dr. Light is silent for a very long time.

'Show him our proof,' Alyssa eggs on inside my brain.

I'm not going to blackmail him, whatever she says.

"At least tell me your real name," I whisper when the fight starts to ebb. Light sighs.

"I am a real psychiatrist. I was instated in the Foundation as a consultant at first, since they raised me from infancy, but... Things got out of hand. My real name is Bohemian Light".