Chapter Text
(TW: Violent depiction of dying)
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“You only live once.”
That is actually incorrect. You live every single miserable and boring day that you are alive, until you die for the first and final time.
Oh, except maybe for Light Yagami.
You could say Light was just special in that regard that he has experienced death over 240 189 times, at least Ryuk thinks it’s been around that many. Admittedly, it became hard to keep track after seeing the first 69 954, with Light playing mostly the role of every horrific run of the mill criminal with a dash of falsely accused innocent he’s killed. Ryuk patiently waits for Light’s greatest hits between those deaths, but alas those were always so fast and fleeting before it turned into filler again.
Ryuk, along with some other fellow shinigami watch from their perch overlooking the deep little pit housing Mu’s latest form of entertainment. Snickering as Light begs for his life for the hundredth time and screaming names and apologies until his throat is hoarse; watching the scenes and locations shift like channels on TV as Light convulses from heart attack to heart attack. They stare as he tries to escape the pit again in the brief respites where he isn’t getting mauled by oncoming traffic; breaths held as Light paws exhaustedly and futilely at the gritty stone walls until his fingers bleed, because maybe just maybe he could actually get himself out of the hell he made for himself this time.
Light manages to pull himself up a few centimetres of the rough surface before he slips and the sudden appearance of a truck rams into his side killing him instantly.
Again.
“I wish your human was a little more creative with his killings,” yawns a Shinigami perched beneath Ryuk who is leaning closer over the edge to watch Light’s body hurtle towards the wall closest to them, “all the interesting ones are few and far in-between and it’s getting a little boring watching him cycle through the classic heart attack, heart attack, car crash, and heart attack again. Pity the other ones finished so quickly…”
As if it really matters. It’s not like the shinigami actually have anything better to do. Ryuk has seen them place countless bets on Light, how they would guffaw at guessing what death correlated with Ryuk’s brief account of the God of the New World. Now that he thinks about it, Ryuk really ought to thank Light, since the Shinigami Realm has never looked so… lively.
Turning back to what’s left of the little god from the traffic accident spasms uncontrollably, bits of shredded skin and shattered bone drag themselves across the bloody asphalt like maggots in search for trash to burrow and feast on. Several recomposed limbs find the sockets for their respective joints, as they piece back together the gross and messy puzzle that is Light Yagami.
The scene shifts once again, only this time it’s some high-rise office building. Ryuk watches as the shinigami split into factions between bets of death by falling from the skyscraper or the oh-so-popular choice: heart attack.
Jolting awake and panting from the gift of life being dragged and stuffed back into his body, Light’s eyes dart across the office walls in an effort to reorient himself. Minutes pass before slowly, as though afraid to get up, he pushes himself off the black carpet tiles while gripping a nearby desk to steady his shaking legs.
Eyes fly to the windows displaying the sky up above then to the sheer drop to the city pavement below. Light’s eyes then slide to the elevator at the opposite end of the room. It’s only a few paces away. Hands still gripping the table, Light awkwardly angles his freshly stitched back together body towards the exit and takes a step forward.
Ah. Well. It’s generous to call it “a step forward”. Light more or less tumbles into the swivel chair next to the desk then like a puppet on strings, Light rightens himself to start typing on the computer atop said desk.
Light doesn’t move or interact with the other people there. There is no reply from him when the boss tells him about rescheduling next Friday’s meeting, but Light’s fingers relay the information accordingly into the computer. Lunchtime rolls around and laughter erupts from the breakroom as everybody laughs at Light’s story about his kid falling off a surfboard from when he took his family to the beach. Light’s hand slaps the table and his body trembles and curls in on itself in uncontrollable mirth, but no sound ever actually comes out from Light. The entire day his lips were forcefully pressed together into a thin line. There was only silence, darting pinpricked pupils from window to the elevator, and the occasional twitch.
The workday finally ends and Light takes the leather briefcase from his desk and stills for a moment in the middle of the office floor. For several minutes he stands there a few paces away from the elevator unmoving. Fingers curled around the briefcase handle twitch a few times experimentally, before smoothly gripping it so tight that Light's knuckles started to turn white. Ryuk notes that Light enters the elevator with steps much more hurried than the original’s should have been and hits the button to the rooftop with a lot more force than necessary.
“Hmmm. It should’ve been ground floor…” Ryuk mumbles, leaning in vaguely interested.
Surprisingly, the levels increase quickly, as the elevator rises higher and higher towards the top. Light holds down the close-door button and starts counting to himself. The elevator comes to a halt at the rooftop level and the doors slide open, Light moves to exit, slamming against the roof's bulkhead door. The wind whips at his hair violently as he runs across the space, feet stumbling every other tile and hurriedly approaching the ledge. He's almost there to the ledge, he quickly turns to look up to the sky looking ready to jump to some unseen platform-
Before clutching his chest and collapsing like a puppet being cut of its strings.
Heart attack again...
The shinigami erupts in a cacophony of noise as bargaining chips and rewards are traded back and forth between the winners and losers. Ryuk, still perched above, can’t help but agree with the earlier shinigami’s comment, it is getting a little boring, but maybe it’s because Ryuk has already watched this show in its entirety before. The first few thousands have been interesting, watching the determination burn in Light’s eyes as he analysed the situation and the ways he could potentially get himself out of the predicament he found himself in. Remembering how Light attempted to bargain with Ryuk and the other shinigami and when that failed, he had the audacity to curse at them. How fascinating it was then, albeit a little disappointing too, to watch the fight in the man’s eyes slowly die, reducing himself to a screaming, crying and begging mess as it dawned that there was no real way of escaping. That isn’t to say Light gave up on his escape attempts either, as disappointing as it was Light’s attempts became sloppy and was seemingly driven by a maddening desperation than intentional and purposeful action, but Ryuk supposes that it can’t be helped when one’s death was orchestrated to be so fast and efficient.
Ryuk’s disappointment in Light’s thwarted escape attempts was however soothed when Light got to live through the deaths of people he personally knew. Ryuk couldn’t help but chuckle at the jolt of recognition in Light at the scene that lay before him and if he was particularly lucky (which Light often was here), was face to face with Kira himself.
Such a shame they’re now slowly approaching the end. Roughly 2000 left to go before everything returns to the boring status quo, and Light becomes nothing but the ash and dust the Shinigami kick up in frustrated boredom…
Unless?
Getting up from his perch, Ryuk begins to stalk away from the enclosure. It really would be a shame if Light was extinguished so soon, not when there’s more entertainment to be squeezed out of his tiny and insignificant life.
“Bored already Ryuk?” a shinigami jokes as Ryuk unfurls his wings.
“Not at all,” Ryuk turns back with a wide toothy grin, “I’ve got an idea for the old man to make this a little more interesting.”