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Misa Amane stood weeping, alone, looking out the window at the city rushing away beneath her. It was like a song, still playing no matter what happened around it; completely oblivious to the rest of the world. But the world had changed greatly for her. Her whole world had changed… because Light was gone. And the rest of the world had changed… because Kira was gone. But Light had been Kira, and as much joy as it brought Misa to know that Light had been a god… Light had been a god. Now he was dead. He had dedicated his life to making the world a better place… and his dream never came true. But the song kept on playing… just the same.
Do not weep, maiden, for war is kind.
Because your lover threw wild hands towards the sky
And the affrighted steed ran on alone,
Do not weep.
War is kind.
Misa Amane stood, alone. Crying for a love that was her light; a savior that was the world's light; that was, in every sense of the word: Light… and now everything was darker than the blackest night. But the song played ever lasting… even in the vacuum of space.
Hoarse, booming drums of the regiment,
Little souls who thirst for fight,
These men were born to drill and die.
The unexplained glory flies above them,
Great is the battle-god, great, and his kingdom –
A field where a thousand corpses lie.
"They wrote songs of Kira, to sing for him as he was their savior. Kira was the one who saw the evil in this world and used his power for good to save us. The criminals who terrorized and plagued this world for their own selfish desires were punished for their crimes. Any man who dared set foot out of the law was slain, for their sins were unforgivable. Our god was glorious and was praised for all his graciousness. He fought a noble battle with wickedness to make this world a better place for those he deemed worthy, leaving nothing in his wake that could soil the new world he had created."
Do not weep, babe, for war is kind.
Because your father tumbled in the yellow trenches,
Ragged as his breast, gulped and died,
Do not weep.
War is kind.
Sayu Yagami lay on her bed, sobbing as she gasped for air through trembling lips. Her father was dead; he had died fighting to stop Kira. He had been shot, and caught by debris in an explosion. He had been tossed and bruised when the bombs had detonated and was rushed to the hospital. He barely had the strength to say goodbye to her brother, who had also been on the team with him. But Light had said he had died peacefully, and with honor… so she was partially happy that he had not died a painful death. The thought eased her tears as she cried herself into a pleasant dreamed sleep.
Swift blazing flag of the regiment,
Eagle with crest of red and gold,
These men were born to drill and die.
Point for them the virtue of slaughter,
Make plain to them the excellence of killing
And a field where a thousand corpses lie.
"They built monuments for Kira, to praise him in for he was their god. Each was grand, and all were crafted with only the finest materials. They all gathered there to praise him, thanking him for sparing them and supporting his reign and decisions. It was Kira who showed men the evil of their ways by eradicating that evil. Kira showed man that the world could be a better place if only they would embrace his ways, which they did. The new world he created was far improved from what it had been because he removed the weakest links in the chain."
Mother whose heart hung humble as a button
On the bright splendid shroud of your son,
Do not weep.
War is kind.
Sachiko Yagami cried at the foot of her son's grave, the last one there in the dusty twilight just after sun set. It was hard for her to cope after he husband had died, but now with her son gone too she wasn't sure she could keep living her life. Light, her dearest son, had always been the one family member she held closest to her heart. Not because he was handsome or smart, but because he was her first child and he had always been the one there for her, weather it was helping with Sayu or just spending time with her when it was obvious he could be spending the afternoon with others. She had always been proud to call him her son… and she always would be. And it was with that thought that she dried her tears and left the cemetery… she would miss Light, but she comforted herself with the thought that he was in a better place now.
Fin