Death is one lazy bitch and its Master is more than a little fucked.

Pomme d'Api

| the sun is slowly rising |

.

.

"Are you proud, Harry?" Ryuk asks a sunny afternoon, mouth full of apple, glossy red skin stuck in between his sharp, abnormal teeth.

When Harry looks at them –

Misa; seated on a table, blond hair mirroring in the sun and feet dangling off the edge, too far to reach the floor, Light; hands in his lap and eyes darting back and forth as if waiting for someone to meet his gaze and L; crouched in his chair, fingers holding a fork that keeps digging in an almost endless amount of sugar pie –

Harry's memories are a bit fuzzy, a bit weird, a bit fucked; but it's there (a girl with a lot more hair than Misa's and a dark auburn and a boy with bright red hair, the colour of fire and him, in the center of it all, laughing and with textbooks scattered all over the floor in front of them).

"Proud?" Harry asks, baffled at the Shinigami's words. Ryuk turns curious eyes towards him, apple juice trickling down his corpse like jaw. "Should I? Feel proud…"

He's just handed a powerful weapon – two powerful weapons – to three very unstable people. One, who is driven by justice, the other, by boredom and megalomania and the last one by blind devotion and a need to belong.

Ryuk lets out a low chuckle while his hand disappears in the burlap sack that seems to contain an infinite number of fruits because it never seems to diminish.

"Won't Death be pissed off? That you changed the entire timeline?" Harry let's out a laugh at that, it's a slow one, the kind that builds up until it's only breathless giggles, as if the Master of Death hasn't heard something this funny in years.

"Most definitely." Harry says, when he finally regains his composure.

Three pairs of eyes have landed on him (Light, with his eyebrow raised, Misa, who wants to understand the joke and L, crouched slightly to the left to have a better look at him, fork hanging between his lips).

Death is one lazy bitch and the amount of paperwork Harry has just caused it will most definitely piss it off. Not that Harry cares; about whatever Death could do to him (he's already dead and meaningless threats are just that, especially not to him).

"Harry?" Misa says, blue eyes studying his movements and with a smile on her face. "What's so funny?" Clearly, the other two want to know also, but are too, well, a bit afraid to ask.

"Oh…" The Master of Death waves a hand in front of his face and smiles sweetly at the blonde. "Just giving Death a bit more work." He answers truthfully, knowing very well that no one could possibly understand just how ridiculous and childish Death can be.

They all blink at him at the same time – they can't understand.

"Do you need to lie down?" Misa is concerned and Harry would laugh if it weren't for the fact that she actually looks genuine when she says it.

"I'm fine, Misa. Would you like some more pie?"

She shakes her head because she has to watch her weight, but Harry makes a plate appear anyways because that's how he solves all of his problems and L doesn't waste anytime digging into the plate, even if it manifested out of thin air.

It looks like Light wants to comment or say something, anything really – but the bell of the shop chimes and whatever is on his mind can wait because Harry's attention is now on the new customer.

.

.

"Is Death a person?" Light asks, a few minutes after closing time. Chairs move magically around, placing themselves on tables. There's a cloth that washes counters without any help and Harry knows that Light is mildly impressed by the whole ordeal.

Harry bites his lip for a second, considering the question and then shakes his head.

Ryuk lets out a deep throttle, obviously fascinated by the exchange (his two-favourite people, trapped in a small, dimply lit shop, talking about concepts that would make most humans balk – it keeps the boredom at bay).

"It's an entity." Harry says, trying to come up with a reasonable answer. "It does like to wear the bodies of its victims, but it doesn't have one of its own."

Each body Death has worn flashes in front of Harry's face in that in that moment – he does possess the memory of every Master of Death before him – Roman emperors and kings and queens, peasants barely clothed and librarians, men of the peace and preachers, school boys and pretty girls.

Light raises an eyebrow; but, in his eyes, there is something appropriately appalled at the thought (Death wears dead bodies like one would a t-shirt, blue lips devoid of oxygen and eyes a molten yellow).

"And you are its Master…" It's not so much a question, but Harry can see the curiosity behind the melted brown chocolate eyes.

"If you are thinking of taking Harry's place, Light…" Ryuk starts out, quite pleased at interrupting the conversation. "That's impossible. Harry is the last one that will ever exist."

Is that what Light wants – to take Harry's place? Harry will never quite understand those men and women obsessed with power; the boy has a Death Note in his hand; a tool that most humans will never even know about and yet he's eager for more.

"I don't need to." Light shakes his head and he obviously wants to ask why Harry will be the last Master of Death, but he knows better than that.

"No…" Ryuk answers with a grin. "I suppose you don't." Light probably wouldn't know what to do with the sheer amount of power that the position brings, no, he's much better only having a weapon than becoming a weapon.

Besides, with Harry on his side, someone he can try – and fail – to manipulate to his whims, he doesn't need to bother himself with the rest; infinite timelines and countless possibilities.

Harry blinks at the scene; the Shinigami and the eighteen-year-old university boy having a staring contest, and then shrugs his shoulders and continues to will objects to move on their own and end up in their rightful place.

He's faintly aware of the change in the air, of the sudden chill that would make even supernatural creatures like Ryuk shiver, but it's only when the bell of his shop chimes that Harry looks up and tilts his head to the side.

A middle-aged woman, with heels that clack on the floor, makes her way inside the shop and promptly stops when she notices that they are people staring at her (Light, who obviously looks ticked off that someone didn't bother to read the 'Closed' sign in the window and Ryuk, who shudders and wants to disappear, but simply can't because someone is preventing it).

"Well…" The woman starts out, discolored eyes staring back at the Death God and the emperor of the New World. "Isn't this nice…"

Anyone else would only notice the amusement, but Harry has had enough practice to recognize the displeasure in the new arrival's voice. Blue lips seem stuck between a smile and a snarl and Ryuk moves away, finding refuge behind to cash register and closer to Harry).

Light raises an eyebrow impudently, not quite realizing what exactly is going on.

"So, these are your new friends?" And Harry smiles then as he nods his head. "Why don't we all have a lovely chat. It's always nice to meet my Master's friends, especially those who give me more work."

Light's face seems struck with the sudden realization (this is very, very dangerous and he should thread lightly because Death is childish and immoral and has no qualm in killing a pretty boy with a lovely face and delusions of grandeur).

And Harry –

Harry smiles.

"I'll make tea."

a/n : Hiya peeps! It's been a while. No, I am not dead and the rock I crawled under was not very comfortable, so I decided to come out from under it and write another chapter. I really like Death as a character and I thought, well, why not make Death and Light meet. Next chapter will be all about what they have to say each other, with L and Misa and some weird stuff that only my brain can come up with. I started school and work is, well, work, but I'll try to be as fast as I can. Thank you all so much for your lovely reviews and all the follows and favs, you guys rule the world. Please tell me what you thought, drop a review, hope you enjoyed and thanks for reading.