Tsuki Ja Nai

Pain.

The abrasive surface of the concrete scrapped his backside and the hands gripping his throat dug their nails into his skin. He listened to the motions, the thrusts, the rustling of clothes as he was stripped; listened to the thud of his heartbeat screaming against his ribcage as the burning pain erased all other thought.

Pain.

He didn't even have time to flinch or to catch the face of his assaulter - all he could see was heavily shadowed by night and his head pounded from where it struck against the concrete. He spat and struggled against the stranger, attempting to shout or curse but unable as the hands clung tighter around his throat. It hurt.

'I'm going to die. He's going to kill me.' The fear overshadowed his rational senses, the logical brain he prized himself on had abandoned him to the mere instinctive will to live. It told him to fight or flee, but how could he fight when his strength alone wasn't enough, and his body was bound to his assaulter in the most carnally intimate way? It hurt. It hurt.

'God, god. Don't let me die here. I can't….someone…..someone come….help…..' His voice trapped in his throat by the stranger's violent hands strained to break free, his head reeling from oxygen deprivation. Rationally he knew he'd pass out soon, knew he had to escape before then since death seemed the only end otherwise, but strength failed him and his rational mind was helpless.

Pain.

Darkness.

He felt himself falling, dropping into unconsciousness as the stranger's rough breathing beat against his ears and the harsh intrusion penetrated him deeper and deeper. The last thing he remembered was a sickening warmth spilling inside him and then oblivion swallowed him.

0

Light awoke abruptly, gasping for air; the flashback vivid and real though it'd already been a week. A week to forget, to cast aside the taint against his perfection. A week in which his ego repeated that escaping such certain death meant he was special, important, that him remaining alive proved he was supposed to continue his mission. It was a test and he passed - he lived and did not break.

A delusion echoed from his wounded ego.

'Damn it.' He swallowed back the curse, swallowed back the tears threatening to spill onto his cheeks. It hurt. It tormented him, though he no longer felt the physical pain - his body had gone surprisingly numb from the moment he'd regained consciousness to discover his attacker had fled. It'd seemed surreal then, waking in the darkened alleyway to nothing but Ryuk's bemused laughter.

Almost as though it hadn't happened. As though it was just a vivid nightmare. His ripped and dirtied clothing said otherwise though, as well as Ryuk's questioning him, asking if he'll do the trade for the Shinigami eyes so he could find and kill his rapist.

Rapist. That word brought nausea to Light's stomach that burned as it rose to his throat; the sickening feeling overwhelming he nearly ran to the bathroom, not caring about locking the door before he threw up.

'Why….why….' Light shook as the weakness that comes after vomiting replaced his usual vigor. He couldn't handle it anymore, he had to tell someone - it tormented him, keeping silent. Going to college, acting the perfect student, keeping just enough distance from the other students that he wouldn't betray how dirty his body had become. The taint left within him that dark night, left with the memory of how cold the air felt against his scrapped skin as he picked himself up after he awoke. The stranger had dirtied him, sullied him within and without.

He clenched the toilet bowl with his hands, the knuckles turning bone white. From downstairs he heard his mother's and sister's voices, heard footsteps ascending the stairs. Heard it all from a distance as he trembled and Ryuk chuckled above him - the vividness of the flashback squeezed him in a vice, slowing his innate ability to deflect unfavorable situations and questions before they occurred. As such, before his rational mind could grasp the meaning of those worried voices and the approaching footsteps the knock on the bathroom door disrupted his privacy.

"Light? Are you all right? Is everything okay?" His mother's voice, gentle and worried, asked from behind the closed door. "You're not coming down sick, are you?"

"I'm…I'm all right. Just….just a little upset stomach." Light replied in a sickeningly normal tone, inside the words screamed to be released - a complete confession of how tainted he'd become. As though a giant ball made from all his secrets grew steadily from that night, waiting to explode. Yet he couldn't. He couldn't allow any confession to pass from his lips; his pride wouldn't allow it and neither would the rest of his circumstances.

He couldn't be sure if he admitted to being raped if he'd be able to refrain from mentioning about the death note, about how he wished to kill the person who'd assaulted him so vulgarly. More than anything he wanted that bastard to pay, but if he gave in to the impulse to tell someone he couldn't be sure if he wouldn't let information about the death note slip. That stung his pride the worst, that for once in his self-composed life he was unsure of himself. For the first time he doubted he could control himself if he allowed even a little leeway for his weaker emotions.

'I can't tell them. Even if I am able to refrain from saying anything incriminating, even if it was certain L wouldn't find out anything….I can't tell mom or Sayu….they'll…..just look at me with pity….or pain….' Light bit down on his lip and stood up, his practical side deciding to use the toilet for its more common use before leaving the room. It irked him, how rationally his mind had become to seem - how fascistically logical it looked upon everything since that night.

He had read stories about victims of sexual assault feeling as though part of them had died after being raped, but for him it rather seemed as though his rational center grew larger, more encompassing each day since. Coldly practical, logical, numb….he couldn't feel anything but disgust at how in control he'd remained everyday. His rational side versus his emotional, his logic versus his pride….he felt as though he was losing himself within himself, drowning under the fanatic forms of the two qualities he held higher than all others within his personality.

Extreme logic or extreme pride.

'Damn it. Damn it.' He schooled his expression as he exited the bathroom, thankful that his mom hadn't waited in the hall to pester him with worries about his health. He needed to be alone; needed to think about which side would win. The logical side of himself told him to reveal nothing, to go about as though nothing happened since only a weak and lesser person would be fixated on such a vulgar thing occurring. His emotional side, the side housing his pride, told him to reveal it all since he was strong and great, that justice was his to attain since he was the god Kira and that those who denied him his justice would be punished likewise for such denial.

He no longer knew which side was right, which side would help him get his life back to normal. All he knew was he had to make the guy pay, had to find the bastard and write his name in the death note. His justice would never be complete without that.