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Chapter Text

This is an AU to my main Death Note fic "The Bitten Apple". 

This fic will be what would have happened if Light and MC drifted apart during the Kira investigation, only to find out he was Kira.

This may have minor spoilers to The Bitten Apple (conversations and such).

This will be based post-Kira, if Light never died and was caught instead 

I hope you all enjoy. 

Chapter Text

The room was cold, and far too bare. White walls, floor, furniture (despite the lack of it, two chairs with a table between them), and ceiling. It just felt empty, and of course he knew why, it had been made clear to Yagami Light that he had lost his rights the moment he was arrested in that warehouse - his shoulder still burned with pain from the gunshot. In fact, he had lost his rights so much so that the task force and SPK had admitted to him that had Near not pushed for KAP ( Kira Analysis Project), that he would have been executed in secret. From what he understood a psychologist would be analysing him to perform a study of sorts, he wasn’t sure what exactly the study was about, he just knew it was what was keeping him alive (in honesty, he had hoped that Ryuk would write his name in his death note as he had threatened many times, but as the scene had started to play out he became far too amused with it all, damn Shinigami. What was worse was that he hadn't even seen Ryuk since that day at the warehouse, where even was he?!). He would be meeting with the psychologist twice a week, and he would be restrained, hands cuffed to the table, and feet cuffed. 

What he hadn’t expected was for (L/N) (Y/N) to walk through the door. Her hair pulled back, lab coat on, a clipboard was tucked under her arm and he could see a tape recorder peeking out of her coat pocket. She glanced at him for a quick moment before she looked up at the CCTV screen in the corner of the room. Light glanced at the black and white screen, the picture was crystal clear, he could clearly see the taser secured in her belt as she waved her arm at the camera and brought a walkie-talkie to her lips, “Can you guys see me?” 

“Yep, you’re good, sound is clear too.” a crackled Matsuda’s voice came through. Light’s eye twitched slightly at the voice, a brief flash of Matsuda pulling the trigger that incapacitating him.

She gave a nod to the camera - no, to the people on the other side of the camera, the task force or SPK no doubt. There was a loud thump as she placed the tape recorder on the table between them, she glanced down at her watch for a moment, the room was so silent that the ticking of her watch was a welcomed sound. 

She hadn’t talked to him once since she walked in, he knew he would have to be the one to break the ice. But what was he meant to say? He hadn’t seen her since before his arrest. What was someone meant to say in that situation? What do you tell your (most likely) now ex-girlfriend after being exposed as a world renowned wanted ‘killer’. Without thinking he just said the first thing that came to mind, “So you’re the psychologist on site? They couldn’t hire someone else?” He had a point. Did they have to bring her into this? Surely it would have to be a conflict of interest, they were partners, she was part of the task force, she had known him for years. Wouldn’t at least Near want an unbiased professional?

She didn’t miss a beat, when she responded, still not looking at him,“And raise the risk of leaking classified information? We agreed that it would be easier to use a professional who already had an understanding of the circumstances.”

“Isn’t that an ethical issue?” he raised an eyebrow, she had always been one to abide by ethical standards. It had been the reason she stayed in the task force after L’s death. 

She looked down at him, her eyes finally meeting his, a deadpan expression on her face, “Didn’t take you for one to be concerned with ethics, all things considered.”

Doesn’t change the issue. Is what he would have said but he bit his tongue. He almost wanted to laugh, of all the ways to meet again, this was the last thing he expected, to be psycho analysed by his ex? Someone who had defended him whenever L had accused him of being Kira? It was all too surreal, “Did L put you up to this?” he smirked slightly. L always thought he was one step ahead, although that didn’t save him in the end, it was amusing, however, to imagine that this was all part of his overarching plan, that he expected to die so all these pieces would fall together and that was why he included (Y/N) in the investigation. 

“We had briefly discussed it, yes,” she sat down across from him, she crossed her legs and pulled a pen from her pocket. 

That made him sick. You’re kidding? So he really did think of everything. “I was joking.”

“I fail to see the humour,” she said in a dry tone, her half lidded eyes stared straight through him, he was sure that this wasn’t how patients were meant to feel in a therapy session, then again, not all patients had a body count in the hundreds of thousands. She blinked slowly before she looked back down at her clipboard and pulled it closer to her, “we never got to cement the idea - for obvious reasons - but it was a potential factor.”

“So you thought it was me?” 

Her brows furrowed while she stared at him, “No, actually. We just discussed the idea of analysing Kira when he was caught, just so happened to be that that was you.” 

She reached her hand out and pressed the red button on the tape recorder before he could even get a word out. 

“Thursday, February eleventh, 2010, 09:00, (L/N) (Y/N),”  she started, “two weeks after the initial arrest of Yagami Light, Kira, this is day one of the Kira Analysis Project, KAP for short, originally proposed by the now deceased L, whose true name will remain anonymous. These sessions will be recorded for research purposes and will be held within an archive when the study is complete.”

He stopped listening, shockingly it seemed he had rights, at least that was what he assumed she was reading to him, she was so detached, cold, he had never seen her like that. Yet, the more she read off her clipboard and eventually looked up at him as she looked up, she was more warm. Was this a front to gain his trust? Did she seriously think that such a dumb trick would work on him.  

“Mr Yagami?” 

“You know my name,” he almost growled.

“Would you prefer to be called Light, or does Kira appease you more?”

He rolled his eyes, he attempted to lean back in his seat only for the silver around his wrists to hold him back, he winced slightly, they were too tight, “Whatever.”

The session seemed to be never ending. By the end of it he knew it had only been three hours - although three hours is far too long anyway - but he felt as though it had been an entire day. The questions weren’t of any importance, he was meant to just answer the basics, when did he find the death note, how did he find it, who did he first kill, along with an explanation of the first few years of his ownership, along with how he had managed to pass the death note to Yotsuba while being in confinement. To his surprise, she didn’t touch on L’s death. 

“This concludes our first session at 11:13, we thank you for your time,” she pressed the red button once more and stopped recording, and placed the recorder in her lab coat pocket. She checked her watch once more, and pulled the walkie-talkie out of her belt, “we’re done here, you're free to collect him.”

***

You sighed after closing the door behind you and leaned against it, you could feel the loud click of the automatic lock through the thick metal. Your heart pounded in your chest, you feared that it would burst out. You held her hand over your chest in a self soothing method as you took deep breaths. You wanted to throw up, your stomach was doing flips while feeling as though it were made of lead. You took in one last breath before you straightened yourself up and brushed yourself down. You had found your timing lucky when a disheveled Matsuda opened the door at the end of the hall and raced towards you.

“Hey are you okay?” he asked, unable to hide the concern in his face as his hand reach out to squeeze your shoulder, he couldn’t control his rambling as he just blurted everything that came in his mind to you, “you were great in there - I mean, I’m not sure how it’s meant to go but one of the reps for Near gave it the all clear so - hey, are you all right?”

You nodded slightly, trying to control yourself, even though you had two weeks to prepare and let all the news sink in, the moment you saw Light cuffed and in the white confinement uniform, it all became far too real. Him. Your Light. He was Kira, there was no doubt, but . . . “I still can’t believe it.”

“We all can’t,” he squeezed your shoulder.

“L knew,” your voice was low, your eyes felt foggy, he always knew, and he stuck by it even when no one believed him, even when you refuted him, insisting that there was no way Light and Kira were the same person, “why didn’t I listen to him.”

“Woah there,” he interrupted your thoughts, no matter how hard he tried to be the strong one while he spoke to you, there was no doubt that he was thinking the same as you, “we did everything we could, he tricked us all.” 

You nodded slightly, and pulled the clipboard scribbled with your notes close to your chest, again, taking in another breath. 

“All we can do right now, is keep moving forward, that’s what L would want,” as much as he was right, it seemed as though he was getting through to himself more than you, “are you going to be okay? With the rest of it I mean?”

The rest of it. How could you forget, it was seared in the forefront of your mind, your services were not only needed for the research of Yagami Light, but you had agreed to provide therapy sessions for the members of the task force who wished to receive it. Due to the abnormal circumstances of the Kira investigation, there were obvious discrepancies about members of the task force seeking treatment due to being sworn to secrecy; Near had also pushed for the notion that the information remain between the SPK and task force members until further notice. Of course you offered to help and after it was discussed among the group, it was agreed that you would be allowed to provide therapy, provided that you felt emotionally fit to do so. You looked back up at Matsuda, whose concerned look was still fixed on his face, “Yes, of course,” you reached up for his hand on your shoulder and gave it a squeeze, “trust me.”

Chapter Text

You were hunched over your desk, head in your hands while you listened to the recording of your first session with Light, you were supposed to be finalising your notes before you sent it over to Near to be transcribed by one of his men, but you struggled. Your mind wandered off every time, unable to comprehend that it had really happened, it felt like some sort of fever dream, had it not been playing on the tape beside you, you would have believed so. 

His voice was low and tired in the recording. Nothing like what had been described to you when he was apprehended, the majority of the task force seemed to not be willing to relay to you the information of what had happened that day and the SPK wasn’t exactly the easiest to come into contact with. It had been Aizawa Shuichi who had stepped forward to be the one to tell you everything, from Near’s plan, to Light being shot. The man they described, Light - no, Kira - was deranged, a mess, erratic and only a fraction away from trying to kill everyone in that warehouse, had it not been for Matsuda. 

You turned the recording off and pushed the player away. You could still clearly see Light in the forefront of your mind. The bandage around his hand from the gunshot, the same hand that had killed so many, the tired look in his eyes and something behind them, you couldn’t pin what it was exactly, but there was something there. You pushed yourself away from your desk and peeled your lab coat off, hanging it on the hook as you left your office. The task force headquarters had received upgrades since Kira’s capture. One being you now had your own research office, you didn’t exactly need it but who were you to say no, besides, you appreciated having a dedicated workspace, especially a private space, a pin code that changed bi-weekly sent to you by Near. Even if Kira was in custody, there was no room for faulty security. 

You had considered following suit with other members of the task force, who had just moved back into their homes with their families. You couldn’t bring yourself to leave the headquarters, and Near had no objections to you staying, in fact, he had suggested that it was for the best. You suspected he didn’t want to risk information leaking, and with you providing your services to the team, it would be best for you to stay. According to your watch it was nearing three in the afternoon, yet it felt so much later. You were practically considered crashing down on your bed the moment you opened the door to your room, but you restrained yourself. 

Your room had changed over the past weeks, the boxes upon boxes that you had previously kept stacked around the room had since been moved into the storage and archive area of the building. Which had only exposed how bare your room truly was to things outside of the Kira investigation, par some photos set on your bookshelf, one of you with a girl in an overly excited girl who clung onto you, wearing a red jacket that was sizes too big for her stood out to you the most and greeted you every time you walked in. 

Someone had remembered to turn the heater on for you, which you were incredibly grateful for, you weren’t sure if there were still people inside the building to thank. You pulled out your phone and gave a quick call to one of the contacts Near had given you, Stephen Gevanni, you had been taken aback at first as he seemed to be very much over your calibre for him to be taking requests from you, but he was nice enough about it; you let him know that you had locked up the office and had started your notes for the day, and gave him full reign to transcribe the interview if he wanted it done as soon as possible. 

“If you need the code just let me know,” you assured him as you opened your fridge, cringing, you needed to get more food soon, unless you wanted to do cup noodles again. 

“Thank you, I’m sure Near will give it to me. Everything all right there?” He must have heard your disgust in your fridge selection.

“Oh no everything’s good,” you pulled some things out of the fridge that maybe could be turned into some sort of meal for later, “oh also! If you don’t mind could you please look over my notes, I’m not sure if they’re up to par with what Near needs.”

“I can do that.”

He sounded way too serious to you, it made you feel like a toddler trying to talk to a businessman, a lame comparison, but you couldn’t quite place the feeling, “Thank you I really appreciate it, please call me if you need anything.”

You had been glad when the goodbyes were said and you could finally hang up, you rested your head against the fridge shelf, it would have been worse if he were in person. Stupid. You sighed and stepped back from the fridge to let the door close. A scream filled the room as you dropped everything to your feet. Hidden behind the door had been a looming figure, grin grossly stretched from ear to ear, the death god you had come to know. He jumped back when you had started to scream, scrambling with his words on what was the big deal.

“Ryuk don’t do that,” you placed your hand over your chest, “you almost gave me a heart attack.”

“Well I can arrange that,” he laughed in his raspy voice. 

You ignored him and looked down at the food you had dropped to the floor you had heard them splatter when they dropped and inwardly cringed at the thought of cleaning it up later, cup noodles it is, wait a second - “What are you even doing here? No one has seen you since Light - Kira – ugh, since everything,” you kept correcting yourself before just giving up.

“I do have a life outside of your human world, you do realise that, right? You humans are so self-absorbed,” he huffed. Was he seriously offended?

You picked your abandoned food up and threw it in the compost bin, “okay well why are you back?” you rolled your eyes and leaned back on your counter.

“I thought this might be interesting.”

“Interesting huh?” how could you forget, the death god viewed the entire situation like a game, but the game was over, Kira was caught, what more was there to see. Surely this had to have been boring for him, especially if he had disappeared ever since Light was caught. You had forgotten how pestering the death god could be, why would he even want to come back? Did he want to collect his notebook? –

You paused for a moment, “Ryuk, you know a lot about the Death Note right?”

“I wouldn’t say a lot,” he shrugged, even though you had become accustomed to the death gods particular look, you couldn’t help but want to shudder when you would see its skin move, not appearing as skin but more as bits of pieces that had been stitched together on a skeleton, seeming as though it would fall apart if it moved too much, “I would say I know just as much as another Shinigami but there are rules that even I don’t understand.”

You sat down at the kitchen table and rolled an apple towards him, which he had caught just as it tipped over the edge, “Would you like to see things get really interesting Ryuk?”

He took a large bite from the apple, his sharp teeth cutting it effortlessly in half, “Oh?”

“Mhmm, you know more about this than anyone, you’d be a valuable asset to us.”

“Hmm, how true,” he pondered for a moment and finished off his apple, leaving you in anticipation for his response, “no can-do kid.”

You hadn’t realised how tense you were until your shoulders fell in disappointment – that’s what you get for thinking you could out smart a god (even if it was Ryuk); you were about to protest when the death god raised a long bony finger at you.

“However, if for some reason I feel the need to share my knowledge, I just might.”

You narrowed your eyes at him for a moment, clearly this was as close as you would ever be able to get to a deal with him. It would do for now, “All right then . . . mind explaining why you’re in my home then?”

“No one else will talk to me.”

Oh, for God's sake, “Ah. I see. Lucky me,” you got up from your seat, “well you’re out of luck I’m taking a nap soon.”

“No, you’re not!”

You looked back over at him confused, “I’m sorry?”

“C’mooon I’ve known you long enough to know that every time you told Light you were ‘going to bed’ that you were actually going to go watch movies or play video games.”

Fuck. It always would escape you just how much Ryuk had been part of your life, even if you were none the wiser to it all. You rolled your eyes and grabbed your scheduler from your bag before you walked over to your room to crash down on your bed.

You had three therapy sessions to run the next day: Amane Misa 09:00-11:00, Aizawa Shuichi, 11:30-12:30, and last on the list Touta Matsuda, ~4:00. You hadn’t given Matsuda a definitive time. Especially since it seemed that he had been avoiding any conversation about therapy with you. You doubted he would come, but you had let him know that he was free to see you or call you any time after four or before nine.

Ryuk’s raspy voice cut you out of your thoughts, “So this therapy thing you’re doing.”

You jumped slightly and shut your planner, “What of it?”

“Do you think I could get that? I feel like I went through a lot too.”

You held back a laugh and threw your planner on the bedside table, “A Shinigami going to therapy? Sounds a bit outlandish, do you guys even do that in – wherever it is you’re from.”

“No,” he sighed.

“What no one talks to you there either?” you smirked and turned the television on and flicked through the channels.

“You and Light are both quite rude you know that?”

“Yeah well I didn’t murder millions under the delusion I was a God, so I’ve got that going for me.”

“You think you would have done things differently?”

There was a look in his eyes that disturbed you, as though he was challenging you, you stared back at him for a moment, unsure of how you were even meant to respond, “Is that supposed to be a trick question?”

“No, but it’s all very curious how you’re so quick to judge, the Death Note has fallen on this earth countless times before Light, and it will continue to fall long after you’re all gone, so I’m curious to see how you think you’re any different to all owners that have come before,” he said simply, his intense stare never leaving you, “some may have not been very high on the morality scale, but there have been many before like Light, those who seemed to have a righteous sense of Justice, those who seemed destined for something more, each and every owner became something that many would never suspect them.”

You wouldn’t kill anyone, the very thought made you sick inside, was this a hint? Was Ryuk saying that the Death Note encourages people to kill? That it corrupts them?

Before you could question him any further on your thoughts he started to laugh, “Who knows, maybe you’d be part of the select few who rejected the power of the Death Note and forfeit ownership; that’s the noble route you’d like right?”

You stared up at the ceiling, dead air filled the room as you thought about his question, would you have forfeited it? If it had been you that day who had found the note could you have easily become Kira? Could the roles have been reversed and you would be the one being interviewed by a shrink?

You closed your eyes. No. There was no use thinking about such things. It didn’t happen. You didn’t find the notebook, and you didn’t become the criminal with the highest body count in history, you didn’t manipulate the people around you to meet your ends, you didn’t kill innocent people for the sake of ‘Justice’, you didn’t view yourself as a God among men and used your cult like following as a steppingstone. You weren’t the one who lied to your friends and family for years. You were not the one locked in a cell. You were here, and you were going to help. You were part of a team that wanted to be sure that something like this could never happen again. You were going to study the effects of the Death Note. 

You were going to help the world recover from its trauma.

Chapter Text

“Do you want to talk about your relationship with Light?”

The tick of the clock had been maddening. The slow drawn out clicks as you sat across from a woman you could hardly recognise. Her head hung low as her chest rose and fell with deep breaths, as though it had been stolen from her and she wanted nothing more than to get it back. You were inclined to believe this theory. The graphic visual of the doctors removing her feeding tube still at the forefront of your mind. Misa Amane had been on suicide watch from the first day she was taken into the care of the Task Force after Light was caught. At first it had been simple measures of having her on watch, but it had soon escalated. She was required to be restrained at all times, and never allowed alone in a room. Even while she was alone with you currently for her session, you were aware that just outside the door were her doctors, ready to jump in should anything happen. Her self-harm had escalated to that she would refuse to eat, attempting to starve herself, or to choke on her food. That is what had led to the most recent precaution, the feeding tube. You had hidden your cringe when it had been removed, the gagging noise that had left her throat as she doubled over, trying to keep whatever it was inside of her stomach. 

You had insisted that it be removed for her session, as how else would she be able to talk to you, especially as she was not allowed sharp objects anymore, out of caution of what she may do to herself. In honesty, while you did have professional reasons for the removal, it also just sickened you to see her that way, and perhaps, these visits with you could be a small moment of solace. If you were to judge, you weren’t sure if you were helping. It seemed that each mention of Light had only made her shrink more into herself, as though if she could make herself small enough she would simply disappear. 

You paused for a moment and placed your clipboard on the table, the loud thunk had made the woman jump slightly, “How about we talk about something else?”

She still said nothing. Her eyes fixed on the floor, her nails lightly picking at the skin of her cuticles, the only movement she had been able to make while strapped down. 

You tilted your head, leaned over to the recorder and turned it off, the sound of the click  seemed to have caught her attention, and she looked up at you, for a brief moment there was a small confusion in her eyes. You had just given her a gentle smile, the act almost painful, your face had never felt more heavy as you looked down at her, “I don’t think it’s a good day for it, I don’t want to force you.”

Her lips parted slightly but she soon closed them, stopping herself from speaking, you could hear a small hmph .

“You can go back to your room if you like,” you started, “but if you like, we can just sit and chat for a bit, you still have an hour.”

She squirmed in her seat slightly, a small sigh escaped her as she looked to the side. 

“Or we can sit here for a bit until you’re ready to go back,” you assured her.

Silence filled the air for a moment as you looked at her, her blonde hair fell into her eyes. You smiled slightly at her and pulled your clipboard and recorder closer to you to place them in the bag you had brought in with you, “thank you,” she said softly, her voice almost too quiet to register. You wondered if she had spoken a word since she had arrived.

“No problem,” you assured her, you pulled your coat off and folded it on your lap, “white really isn’t my colour, I wanted to wear my black coat but apparently everyone thinks I should do the lab coat look.”

Her lips quivered slightly, “I loved that coat on you.”

“Yeah?” you smiled, “you helped me pick that one didn’t you?”

Her smile wavered for a moment as she nodded, her gaze flickered to the floor. 

“Think I should wear it next session?” You half joked as you fiddled with a loose thread on the coat. She shrugged slightly, and looked around the room, her shoulders were less tense and had lowered, she seemed calmer and finally was comfortable enough to take in the room.

“I don’t know about you, but I hate this room,” you sighed, “it’s so … barren.”

She glanced at you from the corner of her eye, it was clear she was unsure if it was a comment that she was meant to reply to or if it were some statement that you were speaking out into the world. 

“I was thinking of maybe getting some pictures to hang up, maybe table books, something to not make it feel so - dreary. What do you think?”

She craned her neck to take in the stark white room. Empty and clinical. Her voice, while still soft, was more steady as she spoke, “Maybe a throw blanket.”

You looked over the room as you hummed to yourself with a nod, envisioning the room with just a pop of colour, perhaps warmer lights, “I think that’s a good idea, perhaps at our next session, you’ll see a slightly better room,” a soft chuckle left your lips, “I can’t promise anything grand, I’ve never had an eye for design like you.”

A soft breath escaped Misa, one that almost sounded like a laugh, “You had the brains though. The ideas.”

All those years ago you had felt embarrassed that L had actually paid you any mind, that he had validated any of your thoughts. You could remember how you felt almost flustered on how he had wanted to have it written into an official document for him to keep as reference. You would say it was a found moment, or even a prideful moment of your future career, but, it was hard to be proud or joyful about it when you looked up from your notepad and saw the blonde woman sitting before you, her eyes glazed over as she stared straight forward, through you. All of that, had led you here.

The remainder of the session had been nothing of particular note. The two of you had sat in silence until a beep sounded from your watch indicating that time was up. You had said your goodbye to her, reminding her of her next appointment, you had made sure you had left the room before her doctors came in, if anything, you needed to give her privacy. You had at forest expected your radio to blow up upon your exit to be scolded about what the hell was that session, but had been pleasantly surprised when you entered the office space. While they would not admit they fully understood your methods, they did seem to grasp that you were attempting a slower more gradual approach for Misa, to try and make her more comfortable in speaking with you. You had felt relieved that at the very least, they understood what you were trying to achieve. One of the assistants hired by Near, had even praised the idea. 

There had been very little time to compose yourself. You had another session in thirty minutes. At the very least, you had been glad that you did not have to return to the cold empty room. Aizawa had insisted that he would prefer to at least have his session on the balcony if he had to have it at the old Task Force headquarters - that had been a point of contention for most, the fact that they had to return to the old building, for most, it was something that they would rather leave in the past. However, to prevent the chance of information leaving the walls, it had been insisted that the sessions take place in a controlled environment. While most had not been a fan of the idea, they had understood the reasoning (it would not, however, prevent them from complaining the entire time). 

It would have been a lie to admit that you were not slightly preoccupied during your session with Aizawa, a slow anxiety built within you as you thought of Misa. You had been (against your professionalism) pleased that as this was his first session, he was not yet at the stage where he was willing to discuss his concerns. Instead, his session had felt more like a catch up among old friends. He had brought coffee along for the both of you - which had been followed by a short apology as he had not been sure if that was appropriate. That had been a difficult process to navigate. How were you meant to behave around someone that you had sent the better amount of your years working closely with. In your mind, you had justified that these were unique circumstances (you were unsure of how many psychotherapists/analysts had faced a supernatural murder case).

“You’ve seen Light now haven’t you?” he asked, his thumb grazed along the lid of his takeaway cup, “is he-?”

You could tell he wasn’t even sure what he was asking. What was the correct thing to say about Light, someone that all of you had trusted - well, less so for Aizawa. You were not part of the team during Light’s initial captivity, but you had been made aware that Aizawa had a complex relationship with Light. You wondered, even if for a moment if that made it harder, to suspect Light had been the culprit, and being right. That even though you were correct, it changed nothing. You chose your words carefully, “I’m not at liberty to discuss our session; but yes, I’ve seen him.”

He nodded slightly, “Right. Yeah.”

“I’m sorry.” You weren’t completely sure what you were apologising for. For not telling him about the session? For seeing Light? For agreeing to do the sessions with him? For not insisting he be put to death? For not believing that Light was Kira? For being his lover?

Oh God.

The last thought made your stomach drop. A pit formed in your throat as a deep shame washed over your body. You felt the hollowness in your cheeks as your face drained of all colour, your grip on your takeaway cup ever so tighter. You had been one of the few people around Light the most and you had never noticed anything. You had most likely been around him when he was executing his Kira duties. Shared the same bed. Yet you noticed nothing. Nothing. Your mind fluttered to find any thought of when you may have found him acting unusual that you had just brushed off as stress or some other external factor. How did you not see it? How could you let it happen?

You let this happen. 

                                      You let this happen. 

                                                                           You let this happen. 

                                                                                                                     Yo  u let   t  h   is ha pp e   n. 

                            Y   ou     le  t  thi   s  ha ppe  n

Yo   u                L e        t                                    thi   s                 H a p   p          e n.

                                              It            s     yo u     r     fau           lt 

          Yo                          u                            kil                      l e      d  

“You feeling alright?” Aizawa’s voice snapped you out of your trance, you hadn’t realised you had been staring off in the distance. 

You forced out an awkward chuckle, “Sorry! I just realised I need to get done later, running logistics,” it was an awkward lie, but believable enough it seemed. 

“You better be getting paid well,” he shook his head as he took another sip from his coffee, “you’d have to pay me the big bucks to stick around here.”

“You bet,” this laugh had been slightly more genuine. 

He had been the one to cut his session short, his daughter had been unwell at home and he wanted to pick something up for her on his way home. He had seemed unsure of how he was meant to say goodbye, settling with a handshake before he promptly left. Which left you with little more than an empty coffee cup and your thoughts, neither of which were desirable. One at the very least was something you could amend. Instead of a coffee, perhaps a tea would do. 

You had hoped that tea while you worked on your notes would be able to help you calm down. To put your mind at ease. In hindsight, you understand why it wouldn't help. Why on earth you thought working on Misa Amane’s notes would help you feel less anxious about Misa Amane felt like your dullest moment to date. You had only been pleased that it did not make you work slower, it seemed to have the opposite effect on you, deft hand working to make sure that you could send your notes away as soon as possible. Perhaps to be reviewed at a later date when you were not as distressed. You made a minor note about the need for a review at a later date, although you kept your reasoning vague - the last thing you needed was for a scolding on not even lasting the first week of sessions. 

Once finished, you glanced at the clock on the wall, it was almost four in the afternoon, you checked your phone and saw that you hadn’t yet received a confirmation text from Matsuda about if he would have a session with you. Just as you suspected, there had been no response. You hesitated for a moment before you quickly added to your text. 

MATSU

How are you feeling? Did you want to meet today?

It doesn’t have to be a session

You sighed as you started to pack up your belongings. You quickly sent an email to Gevanni, warning him that there would not be a lot to transcribe along with your notes. You had not heard back from him regarding if your notes were up to par with what Near needed, you didn’t wish to push the matter as you had only asked him about it the previous afternoon. While Gevanni had the reputation of working impossibly fast you did not wish to force him to work at that pace. It would also suit you best if you did not hear back from him so soon, you still found him somewhat intimidating to speak to let alone work with. He always had a dryness to his tone that made it hard for you to know if he was upset or displeased, normally you would want to see someone like that in person so you could check their body language, but Gevanni also seemed to just have a stone cold appearance that did not give any indication of his mood. 

Your phone chimed and you half expected it to be a message from Gevanni letting you know that he had finished transcribing your work. The thought made you chuckle slightly.

MATSU

Please, no session. I am happy to meet with you though.