Tsuki ja Nai

Tsuki Ja Nai

Chapter 1

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.