Eternity

-:-

Most people who were in Light Yagami's position went to a place of pure nothingness. Light had seen it before. In his perspective, it was a vast desert with failure hanging intoxicatingly in the air. The desert held no beauty. There were no rolling dunes, and instead of being tan or russet, the sand was black and scorching. The second he stepped into his eternity, he fell to his knees and cursed everything. He gnashed his teeth together, squeezed his eyes closed, gnawed at the corners of his lips until they tore and stung but did not bleed. He threw himself head first into the black sand prison with his eyes wide open, letting the grains scratch his corneas. His skull felt like it was about to implode on itself; so many thoughts. So many horrific deranged thoughts. It was too much for him. It was too much for this place. His eternity melted around him, and soon he was hurtling towards the Earth, his spherical home that he tried his hardest to save, through a liquefying tunnel of space and time.

Light's body hit the piece of sidewalk right in front of his house. There was no pain, only a jarring force that could have rattled the very form of God. The actual God. The God who had not failed in colonizing the world.

He stood up. Everything looked the same, but his trained gaze saw the age in the place. His house held the same empty feeling it did before he picked up that black notebook. But he felt compelled to go inside anyways.

How long had he been gone?

The fact that he had no shadow did not go unmissed. Dead, faraway, and on another plane, Light's mind was still sharp as ever. When he came to the doorstep, he reached for the knob, and he was unsurprised but spiteful that his hand went right through the tarnished metal. Light narrowed his eyes. With this, he could always just walk right through it. To acknowledge that he was just a wisp of wind or a trick of the light, however, was quite unsavory. He thought back to his eternity, and how the harder he thought, the more intense his psychotic emotions churned, the place ceased to exist and he was back home. Albeit still a spirit…he was back because of his thoughts. Was his hysterical breakdown in the desert powerful enough to send him back to the physical realm?

Still a transparent effigy of what his looks during life used to sport, he stood on the doorstep for a whole five minutes wondering if he should once again try to focus his thoughts, to try and make some use of his inner rage so his hand could actually grip the door knob. A tricky and even absurd thing to attempt, but no one was there to judge him anymore. His fate was already sealed.

Minutes passed, and he began to grow bored of staring at the metal knob. He was about to just walk through the walls and say to hell with such a pointless and stupid endeavor, but as he took a step he merely bounced off of the hard painted bricks. A puff of air escaped his nostrils as he fumed. Being a spirit was difficult, confusing, emotional, and moronic. Four things that he hated vehemently.

With the surge of rage in his empty veins, he caught onto the realization fast and touched the doorknob, gripping it, and letting himself quickly into the house. Moving as a ghost was a lot harder than he initially thought. One would assume having no cells, atoms or other building blocks in their body would make them more lightweight.

Calmly pleased with his latest stroke of genius, no matter how many times they struck him each day; Light froze as he heard the familiar voice of the woman who had raised him. Or at least done her best to.

"Hello? Is someone there?" Sachiko's voice called from the kitchen.

For a brief moment it was like he and Dad had never passed away. His mother sounded years younger for that single inquiry. Her next string of words revealed a little more of her real state; one that was a little more mutilated and scarred.

"Light? Soichiro…?"

There was a pang of something in the airy copy of his heart. Her mind was still playing tricks on her…telling her that everything that happened was just a dream; sweaty and filled with nightmarish events.

Implying that her son and husband were still coming home later that night for dinner.

Then he saw her, and stared at his mother in awe and holding his breath if he had any. Of course she didn't see him, but for an instant Light wondered if she had. Doleful, pathetically sad eyes looked at the closed door with heartbreaking disappointment as she discovered that her insanity of losing two members of the family she worked so hard to serve once again had fooled her. Light was never somebody who liked to display affection, even to his family, but his poor mother looked so run down and beaten that he wanted to hug her. But he didn't want to waste the effort. He knew angry thoughts would help him touch things in the physical world; he didn't feel like testing if sad thoughts would. Besides, he didn't like to dwell on sorrow anymore. Not when he had almost drowned in his own mind before he became Kira.

He took a few steps, and another few. Soon he was wandering around his old house, knowing his ethereal presence was just amplifying the loneliness of the place. He found himself upstairs, looking at his own room, spotless and put away (compliments to his quietly obsessive mother), and his parents room, the bed neatly made and only had to support one person at night. And finally, Sayu's room. Eventually, the angry thoughts gave way to curiosity and observation, so he walked through the walls rather than opening the doors. It wasn't as messy as it used to be when she was younger. Back in the day, it would get so dirty that he would dread going anywhere near it, clean and cut as he was. Now, a few things were strewn across the floor, but other than that, it was just as clean as his. He shouldn't have thought it strange; Sayu was nearly an adult now, able to care for her belongings a little better than when she was a teenager. He was quite able to pick up the vacant vibes in all other areas of the house, but Sayu's room…felt especially oppressive.

He couldn't quite put his finger on it…

What exactly was that vibe?

Turning his head towards the closed door, he heard the front entrance gently open and close. Mom's soft voice, Sayu's soft voice, both of their ridiculously soft, careful, voices, speaking to each other like they were afraid to break each other's weary bodies. Footsteps up the stairs, also careful. And practiced a thousand, no, a million times. Once again, Light held his imaginary breath when Sayu opened the door of her room. He felt like he hadn't seen her face in ages. And though still young and admittedly beautiful, a product like him of their mother's and father's good genes, she looked so incredibly old. Eyes the same as her mother's, Sayu set down her things and began to change out of her work uniform she was required to wear down at whatever restaurant she served at. Light knew he should have averted his eyes, but he didn't. His sister undressed in front of him, but he was paying attention to everything but her bare skin. Everything she did, every tense of a muscle, every heavy sigh, every brush of fabric was so…routine. He remembered a Sayu who laughed a lot, joked a lot, smiled and grinned and smirked a lot.

Mirthful…that was the word.

To call her that now was a laughable idea. To him, Sayu looked like what he was; a sallow pathetic shell of what she used to be. Her stunning looks didn't hide her pain or anguish that meandered slowly in her eyes.

His sister, clad in just a bra and panties, crawled into bed and disconnected all contact with the outside world. Closing her eyes, it seemed she was hoping to suffocate underneath layers and layers of dreams cooked up by her inwardly frantic subconscious to lessen the hurt of her losses.

Light narrowed his eyes. Already his excessive intellect was deducing what was going on and what that vibe was, but he didn't have the patience, nor heart to acknowledge it quite yet. One thing he would relearn being dead, however, was exactly that: patience. Time would no longer move for him.

Grief, he told himself. That's what she's feeling. A simple case of grief.

He moved himself to the corner of the room, and proceeded to watch his sister sleep without blinking.

-:-

Months passed. Another year. The passage of time could only be felt by the changing winds, falling leaves, and the icy puffs of air escaping the blue tinted lips of the living.

Occasionally Light felt the familiar seething feelings erupt with him, allowing his see-through form to touch something solid. A slammed door. A broken window. Busted plumbing. Sachiko could not understand why her house was suddenly falling apart by the seams when she made sure to keep it in tip-top shape. Light enjoyed these little outbursts while he could, but as time went on, they began to fade as well. Much like the very life force of what was left of his family. His haunting of his home calmed down considerably since the cosmos decided to return his spirit to his doorstep, and now the only signs of his presence were soft but frigid gusts of air.

His mother was now a robot with a forged smile, always wiping her knives on her apron and preparing ridiculously big meals that she and Sayu would never in their wildest dreams finish by themselves. It came to the point where his mother was constantly cooking. The house was always warm from the busy oven and microwave, and he knew that if he could still smell, aromas of the culinary kind would fill his nostrils.

Sayu wasn't even trying to pretend anymore. Her face remained hard and stony, like it had forgotten how to smile at all, and only remembered how to frown and crease like she was about to cry. At her age, Light was already a junior in college, but it was obvious that she lacked the drive and the mental state to handle school.

It made his heart ache. Guiltily he finally admitted this to himself; although it didn't beat any longer, it was still there. And he felt it now more than he ever did in life.

The bouts of ghostly anger ceased, and Light knew that he would have to accept making his presence known in other more benign ways. But he didn't know how. The days went by and the urge to be able to communicate in some way to his family grew stronger. He liked to think that he had forever to find new techniques, and he certainly did. However Sachiko and Sayu would eventually wither and die. And it definitely wasn't certain that they would acquire the same fate as he.

Guilt and regret was not something he often felt when he was alive, and suddenly it was now creeping up on him like all of it in the world was secretly reserved for him. He truly wanted to cleanse the world of the wicked, to wash the planet's soil free of all the blood that had seeped into it. And he still did. But as he watched his family die the slowest of deaths, death by sorrow and grief, he finally felt a burden on his vaporous shoulders. Because he used the Death Note, because he had become Kira, his family was now in shambles.

It sickened him. Sometimes he wished he could just vomit, get rid of the grating feeling in the pit of his stomach. The more statue-esque his mother and sister became, the more helpless and racked with remorse he became in turn.

Light finally realized what was so wonderful about life. People walk their paths feeling powerless and weak their entire lives, but the truth was they had the capability to do something about it. They had the ability to change the world if they could. For him, it was finding a deadly notebook, for others it might be…anything. Nobody knew that in life. They figured they were stuck in neutral forever, until they exhaled their last breath.

It wasn't a situation of him not realizing his helplessness now. He truly was helpless. As a ghost, there was virtually nothing he could do to change the world. A privilege so many had and didn't cherish, which now he coveted.

He was no longer an angry ghost. Now, he was overflowing with unhappiness.

The house grew colder.

Light now knew what the vibe that latched itself onto Sayu's body was. It was the exact same kind of depression that had struck him when he was a teenager. Seventeen, bleak, and sinfully deceiving to others about his inner struggle to get out of bed in the morning. All who saw him just thought he was a handsome genius from a stable family, assured to throw off grading curve in every class he went to. Each person he met thoroughly missed the pitifully dead look in his dark copper eyes. They knew nothing of what went on beneath the surface; the very composed and calculated surface. A sea, black like oil, bound him to a sadness that he did not understand nor could escape from. So many times had he wished he could just…ignore the suffering of the world like everyone else. Even those stuck in amidst the bloody chaos tried their hardest to ignore…and succeeded in going about their daily lives until they were ended by a raid or a bombing, genocide or religious war. And yet there he was, living comfortably in a warm house with both of his parents and a sister who had still been kept from harassment and rape…

Even then, he was still so malcontent.

That same despondent mood clung to Sayu like a leech, and was sucking the energy straight out of her body through a straw. After a while Light found it difficult to merely look at her. She was following in his footsteps, on the way to becoming a crude imitation of the exuberant girl she once was, except there would be no Death Note or miraculous object of supernatural properties to save her from the void.

He felt guilt for what he put his family through, but in no way did he feel guilt for killing off those criminals. Even in death, finding the note was the best thing that ever happened to him. It didn't matter that it bestowed on him a premature demise. He was able to grow out of that depression, slip into a sweet, sweet horrific madness, and change the world so that even in the most war-torn parts of the world, children would no longer be burying their parents and vice versa. It was true he would've felt a little better about it had it didn't include the factor of fear; but the results, the results. 'Means to an end', he wanted to shout at L, to Near, to all those stupid people who failed to understand anything. For geniuses, such a simple concept of peace couldn't get through their thick skulls.

Light, a wraith whose presence had once again become something of a normal element in the Yagami household, stood in his now designated spot when night fell; the corner of Sayu's room. His eyes glowed crimson, much like they used to when a glint of evil brilliance hit him like a bolt of jagged delectable lightning, but this was certainly not the case anymore. Like a ghost possessed, despite that he had no body to house the intrusion, he walked to the edge of his sister's bed, knowing that if he touched her porcelain cheek, his hand would freeze her blood, or if he ran his fingers through her hair, the strands would sink through his dematerialized form like the softest sand. The question as to why he even felt the need to console Sayu brewed in the back of his mind, but he quelled the useless speculations for once, and stared down at the girl, harnessing the feeling of regret that he still felt quite new to.

For the first time since he started watching her sleep, she suddenly stirred. Light froze, eyes abandoning their constant moroseness for a moment and widening. Sayu whimpered, rubbed her legs together anxiously, and desperately clutched her pillow to her nearly bare form. Slender brows pursed together in concern, and he wondered what the hell she was dreaming about to make her react in such a way, especially when she had become a glass statue whether she was awake or sleeping. Nothing roused her anymore; what in sleep was making her…

…Cry?

She was crying?

Light's mouth ran dry as a slender liquid crystal seeped from one of her eyes, ran over the bridge of her nose, and trapped itself in the valley of her other. And they just continued to come, without a care in the world, because as far as she was concerned it was the only time when the world wasn't watching her, so she could let loose, if only this once.

"Dad…Daddy…"

He had no stomach, but his abdomen ached with ghost pain and he wished he had something to throw up. Something other than the emptiness now filling up with flagrant sorrow for his sister's tribulations. Part of him wished to flee, not caring how hard it actually was to move as a ghost since his ties here were so regrettably strong. So maybe he couldn't run away. But maybe he should have just gone back into the corner, to watch her and do nothing for the rest of their lives…

"…Light…"

Like a child about to fall to their knees and weep, Light's hands slowly came up and gripped his brittle hair from the sheer lunacy of the way she said his name. He couldn't handle this emotion, guilt, he thought with more spite than he ever had even during his hateful life. It made him want to shrivel up and disappear forever. Maybe he did belong in the nothingness that was supposedly meant for him…maybe he did need to be sent to purgatory. Maybe this arrangement, which at first seemed fortunate, was actually the most appropriate hell for him; a place in which he could see, from the view of his powerless form, the havoc that he unknowingly wrought instead of vanquishing like he had wanted.

His stubborn psychosis that was still with him in death refused to let him regret killing the common criminals; he was still sore about his failure of molding a brilliant utopia. But there was no utopia for Sayu…not even in her dreams. It was probably no different for his mother, but for the moment he stood there, frozen in time, at the same time watching it wither away in the form of tears and the trembling bare white shoulders of his sibling.

Sayu.

Sayu.

SAYU!

"Sayu…"

Startled by the sound that came from his mouth, he clamped a hand over his lips. Had he really just said that…had that really come out of his throat? Did he truly…speak? Light had never been able to use his vocal chords before; after a while it seemed logical to assume that he didn't have them anymore. But her name trickled out of his mouth like it would have five years ago. Tentative, gentle…perhaps even a little exasperated. The voice of a true older brother.

"L-Light…?" She replied softly, as if replying to him.

He should have gone back to the corner.

Before he could concede to anything else, he willed his voice to sound once more. Dreams were in another dominion completely; had he been able to reach her all this time? Sayu may have been sinking within herself, but she wasn't as far gone as his mother. Talking to the older woman while she slept seemed almost useless. It was probably his heartlessness talking, but Mom had less of a life to live than her daughter did. It wasn't worth it.

With much effort in moving his ethereal body, he leaned down next to her sleeping face. "Can you hear me?" Light asked. His voice was so frozen…he could have sworn that it was the culprit for suddenly frosting the tips of her hair. But even as the temperature dropped considerably in the room, Sayu did not wake; only stirred.

"Where'd you go, Light?" She whispered desperately. Her throat was clogged with sobs.

"Nowhere. I'm right here." Light assured firmly in her ear.

She stopped forming whole sentences for a few moments, her lips moving and saying things that he couldn't make out.

"I'm…I'm so cold."

"You're cold?" He repeated dumbly, but he was too frighteningly fascinated with his sister's mumbled exchange to care about how stupid he was sounding.

"Yeah…I don't want to be cold…"

Never had he felt bound to act this way. He looked at Sayu, pathetic damaged Sayu, and once again felt the pain of remorse. Disgusting…just so disgusting. But he did nothing to stem the flow of anguish. Narrowing his eyes, he spied the ample amount of space in her bed, feeling a surge of ugly discretion at what he was thinking about doing. Taking a deep breath…or at least the chest movement of one, he concentrated hard and went to grab her thin comforter. It was possible that he could just fall right through her mattress and the floorboard if he wasn't careful, but he did what he did best and took a chance. He gripped the blanket and slipped inside of the bed next to her. Miraculously his body stayed on top of the mattress, and suddenly he found himself physically closer to Sayu than he ever remembered being. Her face was so near; he could see every crease of her pretty weary face, every dried tear rivulet in the creases on both sides of her nose.

"Still cold?" He asked.

Her lips parted without saying anything, like the Dream Sayu was considering her answer.

"…A little."

Overcome, he reached over and touched her shoulder, slightly amazed that he could actually feel her hair standing on end from being chilled.

"I'm sorry. I'm no help."

Dream Sayu shrugged. She still looked sad.

"I can't go on without you." She said.

"Don't say things like that, Sayu. Of course you can."

"But look at me…I'm…fading."

Light said nothing to that. It was the truth, after all. She was fading; in fact she was so far gone that he was unsure whether she would ever recover. But he had to tell her that she would. His pride reared its head as he thought that his word should still mean a lot to his younger sibling, regardless of whether he was alive or dead.

"You and Dad…gone…mom…I don't…" Her haunted emotional tone stirred his shapeless insides.

"And soon I'll be gone too…I'm hopeless."

"No…" Light said softly at first and shaking his head.

"I'm…helpless."

"No." He repeated, a little more forceful this time. His hazy grip on her shoulder tightened; she must have felt it, because she flinched.

"Don't ever, ever feel helpless. You're not, no matter what you go through." Light whispered harshly. More tears leaked out from Sayu's ducts. It was baffling how she was still asleep, even as she conversed with her dead brother.

"Sayu…" He said, and he scooted closer to her, making sure that he stayed on the mattress. Dream Sayu was probably staring at him intently, with those big brown watery eyes of hers.

"Don't…" Closer. "…Ever…" Their bodies were touching. "…Feel helpless."

He enveloped her in his arms made of dry mist. It might have been his imagination, but he almost thought he felt the wetness from her tears on his shoulder.

"It's obvious you're not ready to let it go…but you have to, eventually."

Sayu was not a genius. She was not abnormal. She was not extraordinary or unusual.

But she was his sister, and she deserved happiness. Living in her cavity of sorrow would make it so she could never achieve that. She needed an outlet; reassurance that her world had not fallen apart just yet. That the entire world had not fallen apart just yet. Even if it wasn't true, she needed anything. Something that wasn't destructive…yet dramatic. Something that would pull her out from the black quicksand before she was swallowed up forever...

"Don't…don't…" He stuttered.

Now he was just as incoherent as she was…and he hated being incoherent. Don't what? Don't what?

He took another fake breath.

"Don't be like me."

A fresh swell of tears gushed from Sayu's eyes, and she finally stopped moving, stopped talking. She asked no more questions about where he went or why he left, nothing more about how she could no longer live without his existence. He wanted her to find something to help her out of the same hole he fell into when he was seventeen. Something that affected her, and no one else. Even then, he felt no regret for the lives he had taken. But without hurting a hair on Sayu's head, he had ruined her life.

The early hours of the morning approached, and he still held her. The tears had ceased. The sting still remained in her chest, and his as well, but the tears had ceased. He thought about getting out of the bed and moving back into the corner, but his body denied satisfying the thought.

The afterlife was strange indeed. Holding his sister in her defacement, he wondered if this was the eternity that the notebook had foretold. It certainly felt like eternity, holding his sister like that for a few hours.

And yet…the time passed peacefully for a little bit.

Yes, this was eternity. Certainly not the nothingness that was prophesied.

-:-

Well this took a ridiculous amount of time to produce, and problems with my internet didn't help.

This is probably going to be my last Death Note oneshot for a long time. I thank those of you who stuck around.

If anyone chooses to review, I would like something specific in your comments, if it's not too much to ask. I'd like to know if there has been any growth from the earlier chapters to the later ones. I just want to know from the reader's standpoint if I'm improving.

Keep in touch. I'm always in the mood for a chat. :3