Disclaimer: Pinkfeline does not own Death Note.

AU – A story I thought up while doing the laundry at work. Not meant to be refined, so the style will be a little choppy – I intended it that way. Will be Yaoi.

Only Silence

There had been nothing immediately wrong. There had been no noise coming from the room, but that was normal. Light was generally a quiet boy, easily able to blend into the background noise if he so wished. Quiet and studious. The crack beneath the door showed that the light was off, meaning he must have finished his work by now and was most likely watching the TV on mute. Maybe even in deep thought, as he was oft to fall into.

Asleep?

No. It was too early for him to be asleep, but then he had been working on some case with his father. He did seem more tired, but again it was hardly unusual considering. Light had been back for three days now, returning to his studies at To-Oh University. He had been working hard these last couple of days as he caught up the work he missed. Light was so dedicated to his work and it made her swell with pride when she looked at what other young men Light's age got up to. Light never gave her grief as those other young men gave their mothers. No, Light was a very well behaved child.

Probably sleeping then.

Still, she just wanted to check, just to see her son's innocent face once more. He was growing up and soon would leave to make his own home and living. She had to make the best of what time she had.

She knocked at his door softly, loud enough to be heard if he was awake but not so that he would wake if he were asleep. She received no answer, yet her hand strayed to the door handle anyway. She felt strangely nervous, Light valued his privacy a great deal and perhaps would get angry with her for invading his little sanctuary.

Still, she just wanted to see his sleeping face, her little angel that was growing to be a fine young man. She just wanted to catch one last glimpse, one that she could store in her memory to be viewed in the years to come when he would no longer be a resident at the Yagami household but had a family of his own.

Softly she turned the handle and pulled the door gently. The light from the hallway spilled from behind her, into the dark of the room. There was no gentle voice asking the purpose for her intrusion, no comment or welcome. Only silence.

She paused.

She listened.

Silence.

There were no sounds of life, no gentle breathing from a sleeping figure, no movement. Only silence. The room felt chilly and terribly dark. Her eyes had yet to adjust to the gloom and the light from the hall was not helping.

Hesitantly she stepped into the room, her hands shaking slightly as she gently pulled the door closed behind her. The silence grew heavier. When she listened she could hear it, the gentle motion of air being drawn in and out. The sounds were her own.

"Light?"

She called his name in a breathless whisper.

No answer came.

Her eyes were adjusting now, and she was able to trace the lines of the room. There the desk, neat as always and the small television perched to one side. The deep hollows of the bookshelves, filled with various titles of a nature that she would mostly likely be unable to comprehend. She knew that his intelligence was of a higher nature than her own, higher than most certainly. Again she felt pride.

The moon lent the curtains a silver glow, swaying gently in the soft breeze that flowed, giving the appearance of something as insubstantial as a ghost. Still her eyes travelled onwards. The gentle curve of a figure, bare to the light of the moon and still cradled in shadows. Graceful long limbs, the long curve of an elegant neck and the soft gentle outline of his jaw. She had had similar features in her youth, the same lithe grace that her son now possessed. The soft strands of chestnut hair and his almond eyes watching her from the shadows covering his face.

His eyes watching her.

Her breath caught in her throat in surprise. His eyes were open and staring at her, unblinkingly and cold.

"Light?"

Still she softly called his name in a breathless whisper.

He did not react.

He simply kept on staring.

She moved closer in concern. Was something bothering him? Was he angry with her for entering his room uninvited? Why did he not speak?

A soft rustle, the curtains stirred by the breath of wind. Her own short uncomfortable breaths. He did not blink.

She neared his bed, her foot stepping into something cold and wet.

She froze.

Light lay on the bed but not under the covers. Turned on his side, legs pulled halfway into foetal position and his arms laying crossed at the wrists in the curve of his body. He wore only sleeping trousers and socks and despite the chill in the room did not shiver.

Did not move.

Still the cold liquid at her feet made her cringe and sweat nervously. Something was not right, and she was beginning to detect a strange odour to the room. Still her concern for her only son made her push such little observations aside.

She leaned closer to him as she reached the side of the bed. He did not move, did not blink and was staring at the door now instead of her. His eyes had not moved, she had.

The sheets beneath him were curiously dark; whether because of the shadows or something else she could not tell. The strange odour was stronger as she drew closer to her boy. The smell was familiar, sickening and brought with it an intense dread that chilled her to her bones.

"Light, honey?"

Her voice was a broken whisper now, cracking with the edges of panic.

He did not answer.

She reached out, her hand coming to rest on his cheek. It was ice cold beneath her fingers. Her fingers grew numb with horror, but containing it she let her finger drift down that elegant neck, searching for his pulse.

Her fingers unexpectedly plunged into soft flesh, cold liquid trailing sluggishly over her fingertips before she had time to pull back with a scream of terror. She could see it now, the dark gash that marred that slender throat. Indeed it was not shadows that stained the sheets beneath her son; it was his own blood.

She was unaware of her shrill cries, unaware of the fact that she was clawing desperately at the door; blood slicked fingers unable to grab the door handle correctly as her hand shook violently with fright.

Distantly she heard her daughter calling her name. She sounded panicky. Sayu was trying at the door, opening it.

No.

"No!"

Sachiko flung herself at the girl before the door could fully swing open. She was up before her daughter, flinging the door shut before pulling Sayu to her and fleeing downstairs.

The investigation headquarters were significantly more quiet with Light's absence. With Light gone, L had no one to argue with, no one to fight with and he found the change somewhat dull. Still it was a small sacrifice if it meant he would catch Kira.

As far as Light was concerned, he had been cleared of all suspicion and was free to return home and resume his daily routine. L himself had told Light that he was highly disappointed that Light was not Kira, but in the end the evidence concluded Light's innocence.

Naturally it was all lies and L was more intent than ever to observe Light. Now that the boy thought that he had managed to convince the team of his innocence, he would certainly return to his self-righteous duties as Kira.

Light would be cautious the first few days, suspicious and bright as the boy was. L had let him have a couple of days reprieve, letting the boy settle before the monitoring would begin. Light was not to know that he was being monitored, however, which made the operation tricky considering the boy's intellect and deductive ability.

It had only been three days and L was impatient to get his eyes back on his suspect. Even now he sat brooding, knees pulled against his chest in his signature position, a spoon dangling from the corner of his mouth. His eyes were half-lidded, deep in thought as he mentally scanned all he had learned about Kira thus far.

A call from Watari broke him out of his thoughts.

"There is a phone call for Yagami Soichiro"

"Put it through"

L turned his attention to Soichiro, letting the man's phone dangle between his fingers and answering it.

"Soichiro! Soichiro!"

The hysterical voice of a woman blared from the little mechanical device and he quickly thrust the phone back to Yagami.

"Your wife I take it"

Soichiro took the phone with no little confusion.

"Sachiko?"

His voice was deep, even and questioning.

"Sachiko, please calm down. What's wrong?"

"I don't understand, please Sachiko control yourself"

"Sayu……?"

"………………….."

L watched with a new intensity as he noticed the elder Yagami growing unnaturally pale very fast. Whatever was being said, it was not good news. L wanted to know what was going on. No matter, all phone calls were being recorded so he would find out soon enough.

When Soichiro collapsed on the floor, hands gripping the mobile phone until his knuckles turned white and looking distinctively shocked, L felt himself getting unsettled.

Soichiro did not speak, even as Matsuda had rushed to his side to help him up, did not even acknowledge the existence of the others in the room. Those words, fallen from the lips of his little girl, words that could not pass Sachiko's own echoed hauntingly in his mind.

"Yagami-san. If you could please explain the situation."

Ryuzaki's monotone managed to break through the fog that was clouding his mind, barely. He opened his mouth to speak, but words would not come.

It was as if the world had been pulled from under him and all he could do was fall into the darkness. Darkness that was without light. Life that was without Light.

Finally in a voice horse with anguish he managed to speak.

"Light……Light is dead."

TBC.

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