Summary: Sayu Yagami is such a pretty name, meant for a very pretty little girl - not a dead twenty-three year old who'd somehow managed to hijack her body (but one must learn to adapt).
Twenty-Three Percent
| are you insane like me |
.
.
If there is one good thing about reincarnated into a new born infant;
(there isn't)
It's that no one can notice the sudden change in behaviour from one second to the next,
(babies cry, don't you know)
No one knows that you are in fact –
(a lie).
.
.
Sayu Yagami is dead for precisely thirty seconds.
She's cold and blue and so, so cold. She's a still born baby, the doctors say and there's really no hope (hope breeds eternal misery, that's what she remembers).
But; just as one of the doctors finds the courage to tell the parents, the baby heaves a deep breath, unfocused eyes glancing for the first time at the world and then promptly starts to cry.
A miracle.
(that's what they call her)
There's a woman who cries, exhausted and a man who holds her. There's even a two-year-old boy there to greet her with a pair of chocolate brown eyes and a secure smile (even in the chaos of birth she finds him soothing, so, so soothing).
She never finds the courage to point out that she is not actually Sayu Yagami. That, before this, all of this, she was a twenty-three-year-old with a life (it wasn't the best) and a family (she doesn't want to talk about that) and friends (a few of them, here and there).
She is not a miracle, she's just the result of some very bad cosmic joke.
It's not like she can speak anyways (a fully-grown adult cannot possibly phantom how hard it is to speak when you have no teeth and you cannot even understand the language).
.
.
It's awfully fortunate; that she is such a little miracle.
By the time she's two years old, the fake-Sayu realizes that her parents will agree to almost everything she asks for.
She's reasonable, of course – and it's not like stuffed animals appeal to someone who would be twenty-five by now – but she does carry the stuffed bunny rabbit everywhere with her (because that's what a two-year-old would do).
However, despite her best attempts to craft her mask that is believable, the façade slips; sometimes.
She'll say something; something awfully smart, something that a normal child would not know or think or feel and people will stop talking for a second and look at her tiny form, clutching her bunny rabbit in her arms and wonder where exactly she picked that up.
She's lucky that her brother, who is two years her senior, is already considered a genius in his own right. People smile and congratulate her not-parents on both of their genius children.
Light looks at her curiously, his chocolate brown eyes the exact same as hers and the shade of his hair matching her own – there is no doubt that he's her brother – and she asks if he wants to play with Mr. Rabbit.
He usually says no with a shake of his head.
And for years, she'll use the exact same trick to avoid suspicion when she slips.
.
.
"I would like to take swimming lessons." She's five – or, at least, Sayu Yagami is five. All four members of the Yagami household are currently seated at their dinner table, enjoying the usual tea that comes after supper.
Sayu rarely tries to participate in the conversation (she'll say something, something that is out of place or too deep and philosophical for someone her age or even cynical that will earn her looks and then she'll shut down completely), but she does listen.
Both her not-mother and her not-father turn to look at her with surprise. It's very odd for their daughter to ask for, well, anything really. Light blinks at her. He's also not used to this.
"Are you sure, dear?" She's pretty set on it. In her previous life, her mother had been very strict and sports just weren't a priority, but now that she's dead and hijacked someone else's body, not-Sayu thinks that should be allowed selfishness.
And selfishness starts with a swimming pool and a bathing suit.
She nods her head at her mother, notices how both her fake parents give each other a look (it's not like they can't afford it) and then her father nods his head.
Two weeks later, Light says he's trying out for tennis.
Sayu thinks it's because he can't cope with the fact that for once both their parents pay more attention to her – she still congratulates him with a smile though.
.
.
Sayu has not been looking forward to school (no, no, no).
It doesn't help that she already knows everything and more, that in her previous life she'd been on her way to finish her PhD and that her mother had always expected her to excel in academics.
She knows that being mediocre at school would be the perfect jab at that woman, her previous mother (not-Sayu is bitter), probably even more so than her death, but Sayu knows the old her too well to think that she'll just sit back and pretend to be like every other child in her class.
When the day comes and her new mother comes to brush her hair in the morning, Sayu tries to look excited and her mother smiles, so she knows it works. Light says that he'll come to make sure she's all right at lunch.
She doesn't doubt he'll do it. He tries, he really does, to be the perfect older brother. She nods her head, not paying attention, overwhelmed with the number of children in front of her.
It's been such a long time that the fear in her eyes is real. Her mother brushes the hair away from her face, gently nudging her when she remains petrified in her spot.
For once, she would really like to not have died.
But.
Life is full of surprises.
And while the previous her had been downright bad at making friends, Sayu Yagami offers kind smiles and childish pouts and seduces students and teachers alike.
By recess, some brunette claims to be her new best friend and a boy offers her his chocolate bar with a shy smile and shaky fingers and Sayu finally realizes why her brother wears his mask so dutifully.
It's fun to manipulate other people.
.
.
She almost drowns that night (most people would believe it's an accident, that she just hit her head as she rounded the corner, but she actually does it on purpose).
Sayu is seven by then, which means that her old self would already be thirty years old, and she doesn't know why but the number weighs heavy on her head and shoulders, makes her want to do something stupid like test this whole reincarnation process (not that she believes in that).
It takes barely a minute for someone to scream for help and, by then, her head feels heavy as she sinks into the bottom of the pool, a trickle of blood from her head mixing with the water.
In her haze, she'll never say to anybody, she swears that for a second she can see the reflection of red numbers at the top of her head, the color a contrast in the translucent waters. She tries to reach for them, but is quickly pulled to the surface by her coach before she can confirm if there are real.
She coughs up chlorite water, her brain thumping against her very fragile skull and yet she smiles at everyone's concerned face. She thinks that she must be the reason both her parents have that much grey hair.
a/n : Here I thought, sure why not? So, well, this happened. It's not meant to be very deep or philosophical and I'd like to skim through the early years a bit quickly to get to the whole Death Note part. Thank you for reading, let me know what you think and if you'd like more. I hope you enjoyed!