The Aves of Maria
folder
Death Note › Het-Male/Female
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
22
Views:
4,483
Reviews:
5
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
Death Note › Het-Male/Female
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
22
Views:
4,483
Reviews:
5
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
I do not own Death Note in any way, shape or form. Any similarities Original Characters have to real life people or other people's Original Characters is purely coincidental. I make no profit from this fic, whatoever.
Acta Est Fabula Plaudite
Acta Est Fabula Plaudite or "The Play Has Been Performed, Applaud!"
***
Mashiro Maria. Takes her usual shower at 18:00 and slips getting out of the tub, hitting her head on the faucet. The impact knocks her unconscious. She never wakes up. The impact triggers seizures and she bleeds to death of severe subarachnoid hemorrhaging before morning.
***
Light found himself turning to that page of the Death Note and reading it over and over and over again, tracing the black characters with the pads of his fingers. There were no other names written there, though the following pages were full of them. He had really written it. Maria was gone.
Wasn't love supposed to last throughout all time, like it did in books and fairy tales? Or was it really more like trains changing at random stations? He had loved Maria, hadn't he? Then how could have he had killed her? He'd felt for her so passionately before, but now he didn't feel anything for her, just a quiet, lingering nostalgia.
He wasn't even sure why he'd given her such a quiet, painless death. Other than his faded affection, there was no real reason for it, and leaving the surrounding page blank seemed almost counter-productive. Yet he just could not bring himself to mar the page with any other names; as if doing so would tarnish and blacken the memory of her.
Was it possible to love a person too much? He had placed Maria on a pedestal, and then all of a sudden he had noticed that something didn't fit into the flawless image he'd created. He had been so enamored with her, spent so much time and energy putting her in a golden light that he hadn't realized that parts of him were falling apart and deteriorated, because he'd only had eyes for her.
But… had he really? Or was it the idea of her that he was in love with?
"Light!" He heard his mother call from the other side of his bedroom door, her knuckles lightly tapping on the wood. "You should get going or you'll miss the train to To-oh!"
"Okay, Mom." He responded, waiting until her shadow had vanished before closing the Death Note. His fingers lingered on the cover as he stowed it back into its hiding place. The drawer slid closed with a soft tap.
The train ride was dull and uneventful. Light was reminded of the boring, depressing times before he had picked up the Death Note. Insignificant people streamed around him, each lost in his or her own world, unaware that Kira himself was in their midst. He wondered; if they knew, would they fall to their knees before him or flee in fear?
A flower vendor wandered around the outskirts of the university, offering bouquets and corsages to the girls that walked by. Compelled, Light approached the wrinkled old man selling the blossoms, only to pause half a dozen meters away. There would be no red spider lilies for sale; it was too early in the year for the traditional funeral flower, and somehow that was incredibly disappointing.
He turned and walked away, feeling the flower vendor's curious eyes on his back.
Takada had saved him a seat in the lecture hall, pettily interested in him as he was. He smiled and greeted her politely, as was expected of him, and focused on the professor, who jumped into the day's lesson without introduction.
"…an obsession that is actually independent of the object of fixation. The object is only borrowed as a pretext, a means, an environment, through which or in which the obsessed person can project his own eternal and essential hunger, thus fulfilling the requirements of death-the dissolution of the ego for something, anything, that exists independently outside of one's self.
"Perhaps that obsession should be controlled. At some point the most mundane catalyst, a skirt or fallen leaf, is enough to provoke a series of captivating chain reactions, while at another time much more important objects will inspire only an absurd indifference…"
Light blinked, ignoring Takada's subtle affectionate gestures as she tried to get him to look at her. The professor's words had struck a chord within him.
Had he ever really loved Maria, or had it been that he had projected his desire for good and righteous people in the world onto her, though he saw none? Had she not been at the right place at the right time, might he had projected that desire onto someone else and fallen in love with that person instead? Or would those desires have not manifested at all?
It was a startling revelation and somehow enlightening. Light felt as if a weight, or perhaps a haze that hung before his eyes, had been lifted. The world snapped back into his mind with alarming clarity.
The world was rotten, filthy, and in need of him. It needed him to eliminate the criminals that plagued society and create a Utopic new world filled with only good people. And Light would be the God of that New World.
Smirking to himself, Light allowed his hand to brush against Takada's as the class ended and he made his way to his next class.
"Yo! Light-kun!"
L was waiting for him.
END
***
Mashiro Maria. Takes her usual shower at 18:00 and slips getting out of the tub, hitting her head on the faucet. The impact knocks her unconscious. She never wakes up. The impact triggers seizures and she bleeds to death of severe subarachnoid hemorrhaging before morning.
***
Light found himself turning to that page of the Death Note and reading it over and over and over again, tracing the black characters with the pads of his fingers. There were no other names written there, though the following pages were full of them. He had really written it. Maria was gone.
Wasn't love supposed to last throughout all time, like it did in books and fairy tales? Or was it really more like trains changing at random stations? He had loved Maria, hadn't he? Then how could have he had killed her? He'd felt for her so passionately before, but now he didn't feel anything for her, just a quiet, lingering nostalgia.
He wasn't even sure why he'd given her such a quiet, painless death. Other than his faded affection, there was no real reason for it, and leaving the surrounding page blank seemed almost counter-productive. Yet he just could not bring himself to mar the page with any other names; as if doing so would tarnish and blacken the memory of her.
Was it possible to love a person too much? He had placed Maria on a pedestal, and then all of a sudden he had noticed that something didn't fit into the flawless image he'd created. He had been so enamored with her, spent so much time and energy putting her in a golden light that he hadn't realized that parts of him were falling apart and deteriorated, because he'd only had eyes for her.
But… had he really? Or was it the idea of her that he was in love with?
"Light!" He heard his mother call from the other side of his bedroom door, her knuckles lightly tapping on the wood. "You should get going or you'll miss the train to To-oh!"
"Okay, Mom." He responded, waiting until her shadow had vanished before closing the Death Note. His fingers lingered on the cover as he stowed it back into its hiding place. The drawer slid closed with a soft tap.
The train ride was dull and uneventful. Light was reminded of the boring, depressing times before he had picked up the Death Note. Insignificant people streamed around him, each lost in his or her own world, unaware that Kira himself was in their midst. He wondered; if they knew, would they fall to their knees before him or flee in fear?
A flower vendor wandered around the outskirts of the university, offering bouquets and corsages to the girls that walked by. Compelled, Light approached the wrinkled old man selling the blossoms, only to pause half a dozen meters away. There would be no red spider lilies for sale; it was too early in the year for the traditional funeral flower, and somehow that was incredibly disappointing.
He turned and walked away, feeling the flower vendor's curious eyes on his back.
Takada had saved him a seat in the lecture hall, pettily interested in him as he was. He smiled and greeted her politely, as was expected of him, and focused on the professor, who jumped into the day's lesson without introduction.
"…an obsession that is actually independent of the object of fixation. The object is only borrowed as a pretext, a means, an environment, through which or in which the obsessed person can project his own eternal and essential hunger, thus fulfilling the requirements of death-the dissolution of the ego for something, anything, that exists independently outside of one's self.
"Perhaps that obsession should be controlled. At some point the most mundane catalyst, a skirt or fallen leaf, is enough to provoke a series of captivating chain reactions, while at another time much more important objects will inspire only an absurd indifference…"
Light blinked, ignoring Takada's subtle affectionate gestures as she tried to get him to look at her. The professor's words had struck a chord within him.
Had he ever really loved Maria, or had it been that he had projected his desire for good and righteous people in the world onto her, though he saw none? Had she not been at the right place at the right time, might he had projected that desire onto someone else and fallen in love with that person instead? Or would those desires have not manifested at all?
It was a startling revelation and somehow enlightening. Light felt as if a weight, or perhaps a haze that hung before his eyes, had been lifted. The world snapped back into his mind with alarming clarity.
The world was rotten, filthy, and in need of him. It needed him to eliminate the criminals that plagued society and create a Utopic new world filled with only good people. And Light would be the God of that New World.
Smirking to himself, Light allowed his hand to brush against Takada's as the class ended and he made his way to his next class.
"Yo! Light-kun!"
L was waiting for him.
END