Death is violent. It is relentless, pursuing, and it attacks of its own accord, following a path invisible to those who see with mortal eyes. Humans fear it, waiting for its gaping jaws to snap down, cut them to pieces and scatter them across the cosmos in dripping chunks. Even those who wield death still run in terror from its embrace, knowing that one day those skeletal arms will enclose them, drag them back to the earth from which they crawled. And because it's mysterious, chaotic, no one can follow the bloody red tune death waltzes to. No one, except him. The one with skin of a corpse once trapped in flames, and irises born of shaded gore. The one who courted death's messiah, and ravished his body like a desperate whore, their screams and passions flooding the sky. Oh yes. He could see death's music, those numbers as they dwindled closer and closer to the bitter end. So often they filled him with glee. After all, how often did one get to watch the danse macabre in person, close enough to smell its sweet perfume?
Yet today…today the perfume was rank. It gagged him, disgustingly sweet; the smell of apples rotting under aurora's warmth. Every breath he took infected his lungs with the horrid scent, until it was all he could do not to turn tail, run out of the room and hide from death's design. Yet he couldn't. He was frozen, staring at those rusted steps and the prismatic array of glowing oranges, pinks and reds, faded in through cloudy windowpanes. There would've been nothing special about any of it, were this any other day but one marked on demise's calendar. But there it was. Those damn numbers, ticking away above a head of blood splattered hair. He watched them for a moment, silent as the grave, and then he took a step. Thump. Thump. His heels hit the ground, carrying him slowly to the base of the staircase. His own stupefied waltz, grisly, disturbing. And his partner….
Halting at the foot of the stairs, B swept his gaze across their gore splattered guest. "Oh darling," he sighed, hands stuffed deep in his pockets, lest he disturb the man with his touch. "What did they do to you, Kira-kun?"
The harbinger of justice had no words. Or perhaps he merely couldn't speak, already too close to the end to lure a final word from those poison lips. He simply looked at B with those beautiful eyes, dark as cinnamon and jeweled umber in the light. They seemed to radiate a sad hue, sunglow encompassing his body and making it appear fragile. Not the strong, virile man B so adored, nor the pliant yet resilient flesh that resisted his scratches and nips. No. Such strength belonged to the living, and those who thrived in its embrace. This was the body of a man on the final leg of his journey, ready to cave at any time. Unfortunate, but true. Taking a step forward, he peered into those irises, frowning softly. Yes. The gears were clicking, moving sluggishly behind copper webbing. It was no trick of the light, or a simple mistake. Time was finally running out. Death was waiting for him, ready to sweep him away on ebony wings.
Light….beloved Kira….he was dying.
Their stares were matched, though he held far more sway than the ailing god. It was like watching a candle flicker. With each breath, Light seemed more and more ready to wink out, give in to the pain that had to be excruciating, pulsing through his broken heart and aching sweetly. A staccato of death's beating drum, and it was only going to grow louder as he succumbed to its hungry lure. "Kira." Hunching over, B reached towards the brunette, fingertips inches from a golden cheek. How he longed to touch that battered skin, caress it like a regal pelt. "…..darling. Come on now. Don't be shy! I've seen you in worse condition than this!" His palm grazed too warm flesh, and B purred. Familiar sensation. But disgustingly caused. "Kira-kun. Look at me."
Death's chimes hadn't yet broken his pride. The man shakily lolled his head to the side, cheek pressed to metal and fingers twitching against his thigh. So stubborn, but his silence and struggle were obvious. Tremors attacked him, each sourced from the miniature black holes sucking away at his life force, with only trickles of blood escaping their pull. Suffering gunshot wounds had a sinful way of reducing a body to its weakest point, though B was all too aware that those gaping, gory holes weren't the only wound inflicted on his dying love. Expiry's wielder had finally come to collect, and somewhere, floating in that bloody sky, there was a Shinigami who possessed a notebook. And written on its pristine pages…
He drew his hand back, smirking darkly. He knew far too well what that kanji would spell. Oh, cruel irony. How corrupt your vicious design. "I don't think I need to say it." Red eyes flickered, lifting from Light's torso to the numbers floating above his head. "Do I, beloved?" B laughed through his teeth, husky and bitter. There were barely any left to count. Now the fury waited, eager to tear through his chest and savor the weeping leftovers. For this death, while hardly preventable, may have been postponed, had he only stepped in when he had his chance. He should've taken Light into his arms, yanked him away from the world and its jealous prayers. He hadn't. He'd given them their god, watched with bemusement as everything went to hell around them. It was perfect too. A luscious dance of death. Then L's precious successors stepped up to the plate. Who'd known they would be the true bringer of Kira's destruction? Certainly not him. Had he, B would've cut them down with pride. Then perhaps this wouldn't be happening. He wouldn't be here, and Light…..darling Kira. He wouldn't be dying.
Gnashing a fang into his tongue, he tasted copper and salt. The appeal was lost. This-it was premature! Light had been cut down at insanity's prime. B had always prayed they would have years until the brunette would take his last gulps of air, rather than the dust and filth that awaited them both. For everything dies. But Kira….the god of the new world. His death was stolen, ripped from B's clutches. This wasn't how it was supposed to be! He was the one who possessed the messiah, where others only dreamed of seeing his radiant countenance. He'd courted him, raised him. Watched until he was ripe, then showered him with gifts that shattered what little sanity might've been clinging at the threads. Now look at his efforts. Broken, tearful, lying on those steps and waiting for the black cloak of night to embrace him a final time.
Ha. B licked blood off his lip, cocking his head to the side. Through all of this, how wrong he'd been. How utterly, viciously wrong. "Well, you've certainly made a mess of things, haven't you? Tell me darling. When did you plan on actually killing them off? Hmm? Before or after they stripped your elaborate design down to the bones?" Staring at his broken beauty, he let out a mocking sigh, patting bloodstained hair. "And now look at you. All shot up like a defenseless animal. My poor, sweet, beautiful Kira-ku-"
"….Don't." His voice little more than a raspy croak, Light drew in a breath and looked at him. The sound was harsh, limbs snapping beneath stilettos. "Don't you-nghhh…" tears dripped mercilessly down his jaw, rare and priceless as painite and mocking in their magnificence. They were made crueler with every lurch of his tawny fingers, until the man gathered the strength to jab a finger at him, still wearing that defiant smile. Not even death would pull a scream from those lips. For that, B adored him. Those screams were his alone. He refused to share them, when he'd already been robbed of a final life. "Don't you dare mock me….B…"
Such a pitiful creature, yet strangely elegant. A master of beauty, even in the throes of death. B wished he could paint it, or perhaps eternalize it within a frame of gold and rainbow glass; a true depiction of earth's messiah. Certainly Kira would appreciate the religious connotations. "Always you….heartless bastard. I…should've known you'd c-come…" lips, cracked and splattered with gore, lifted at the corner. "It…is you…..right? I'm not h-hallucinating?" His entire body strained with the effort to reach him, touch him with those trembling fingertips. They were dark red, and B watched the blood drip from them and splatter the steps, darkly aware of the clock's intangible chime. "…B?"
"…No beloved. You've always managed to avoid crossing that particular threshold of insanity. Unless it's a new development? You haven't been hiding things from me again, have you, Kira-kun?" Slow, jerky footsteps made a resounding thud in the warehouse, echoing back and meshing uncomfortably with their breathing. Light silently watched him approach, and it was clear to see that his strength was fast fading. He could barely keep his arm uplifted; already it was twitching, hungry spasms torturing the limb, as if it were a lifeless hunk of meat suffering Frankenstein's experiments. "Careful," B crooned, wrapping pallid digits around his wrist. "Straining yourself won't do any good." Not now. Squeezing, he felt Light's pulse. It was barely more than a flutter, too soft to time and painfully sporadic. His eyes weren't lying then. As if they could. The only deception here was his own mind.
"Wouldn't it?" A choked laugh rattled his chest, and Light closed his eyes, bitterly smiling. "I'd die quicker. That…that'd certainly be s-something good."
A quick death? Was that really what he wanted? B shook his head, resting his knee against a step and towering over the tortured brunette. Even if he had the power to change this, he certainly wouldn't make Light's death quicker. That'd be such a waste. "Cowards aren't well favored in the afterlife, Kira-kun. Don't you want to make a good first impression?" His words were cruel, cutting. He'd said worse, of course, and never felt guilty for it. Nor was he going to start now. Light needed to hear the truth. Maybe if he embraced it, accepted it, then it'd be easier for him to do the same. "Keep your eyes open darling. It's rude to ignore people when they're speaking!" Snapping his fingers before Light's face, B smirked. "Cowardly and rude. I never thought I'd see the day! Kira-kun, why didn't you tell me that all it took to curb that spirit of yours were some bullets? I might've saved your precious team the trouble and shot you myself~!"
Light seemed to be having trouble controlling his body's functions, but his lashes slowly flickered upward at that, and he laughed. B thought it was a laugh anyway. The sound was wet, thick, like sewage draining down a pipe. There was probably blood in his lungs. "No you wouldn't…l-liar." Losing the willpower to hold up his head, he simply let it fall to the side. And yet, his copper irises remained firm, fixated onto red and refusing to break contact. "You'd think of something far more painful."
Well. That was hardly a lie. Only through pain was true love realized, and B would never forgive himself if his memories of Kira-kun ever began to fade. He wanted to remember him always, until death did them part. Though it seemed death was fast approaching on raven wings. His trained ear could hear the oozing drip of blood into Light's lungs, poisoning his body while his failed heart stuttered to an end. Death was waiting in the wings, and no amount of wishes or curses were going to save the brunette now. "Come now darling. Would you ever forgive me otherwise?" B reached out and pinched Light's chin between his thumb and forefinger, angling his head towards the sunset's glow. The coppery hue gave him some semblance of health, a bittersweet lie they both knew to be false. Still, his darling was a vain creature. In this, B could give him some peace. "Shh, shh," he quieted the man when he attempted to speak, watching a streak of red paint the corner of his mouth. "Don't waste your strength. It must hurt so terribly."
"You know it does," Light husked, the same blood on his lips coating each syllable in a cloying stickiness. He didn't have long. The numbers were ticking down, one by one, until there were but a scarce few minutes left. Even at the end, he was so stubborn. For that, B respected him. Of course, he'd respect him more if Light wasn't dying at all. Of all the treasures he'd ever possessed, the value of Kira's life resting in the palm of his hand was one B had valued above all others. Lawli didn't deserve such a pleasure, and neither did his little hell spawn! It was always meant to be B and Kira at the end, greeting death hand in hand. Now that little wretch Near had stolen his future from him. All of B's hard laid plans….
A shuddering rasp of air forced his attention elsewhere. The minutes had morphed into seconds, Light's flesh growing pale despite the sun. And how disgustingly appropriate. As the sun set on the day, so too did it on his beloved's life, tearing away the strings that connected him to this world. It was all so…poetic, really. "You're dying," B caught a bead of blood on his finger and tasted it, the almost nauseating sweetness of death that had always been missing from the flavor that was patented Kira. Madness, insanity, a resilient fervor few could appreciate. Such a pity he had to witness it like this. "I apologize for my lack of preparation, but you caught me by surprise. I had so many things planned! But you've always been a spoilsport, haven't you darling? You just couldn't let me have my fun." B sighed, smearing another droplet across Light's lips. He barely felt a single breath stir against his skin. "Shall I spare your corpse their probing hands and bury you myself? I know how sensitive you are about these things. I'll even dig the grave myself~! Nice and deep, to keep all the monsters away."
"Nothing could k-keep you away, B. We both know that." Lips hitched ever so slightly at the corners, then fell as Light sucked in a bone chilling gasp of air that visibly gave him stress. But the stress soon bled away to a sluggish acceptance, and he slumped listlessly against the steps, auburn lashes pressing flat to his ashen rose skin. B waited, letting his hand fall to that beautiful throat, his gaze hovering above Light's head as he counted down the seconds. Five, four, three, two….
And so it was done. That final breath was expunged before death completely grasped Light in razor claws and carried him far away, leaving B there, alone, with only the corpse of his lover for company. How sentimental. Poe would just adore the two of them. "You know Kira-kun, I had expected a far more dramatic ending from you," B chastised, tucking a bloodstained lock of hair behind Light's ear as he swept his arm under that trim, weighted form and hoisted him up. Like this, he simply looked asleep. Oh death, ever sweet with its lies. They grated at the murderer's skin, but he held Light to him anyway and tucked that dark head under his chin, smelling the sweat and drying copper on his skin. "I should be disappointed in you. I suppose it's understandable though. You died so gracefully, no surprise there. You were even kind enough to wait for me to come!" It was hard to be angry with him after that.
B buried his hand in silken hair and looked to the window with its glowing red panes, the sky outside painted with azure. Night was approaching. He'd have to move fast, if he wanted to keep his little promise. And he would. Light was lost to death's design, but that didn't mean that what should have been had to be forgotten. A need for penance was roiling inside B, clotting like jam on his arteries. The death of Kira was unjustly taken, ripped from his clutches before he even had a chance to fight for it. For that, he would see the world burn. After that…well…..B smirked, peeking at the boneless figure in his grasp.
That would just have to a be a surprise for them both.