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Fic post: two short fics
Title: Belief
Rating: PG
Characters: Light, Sayu, Sachiko
Warnings: None, really
Word Count: 733
Notes: I've been getting Light plot bunnies with alarming frequency lately! Thanks to![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
vashti for looking it (and the second one!) over pre-post.
Sachiko can remember Light and Sayu fighting only once.
Sayu was five, and she'd already eaten all of her New Year's candy. She climbed up on the couch, where Light was reading. "Big brother, I want some mochi."
"Then you should have saved it like I did," Light said, with a little smile.
"But now you have it all and I don't have any."
Light turned a page. "We started with the same amount of candy, Sayu."
His calm seemed to annoy her. "You should be nicer to me, big brother."
Light's expression didn't change, but he set the book aside. "I am nice to you. Who fixed your kite when it was torn?"
"You did," Sayu admitted, still pouting. "But that was ages ago."
"It was two weeks ago."
"Shut up, Light, you're such a know-it-all."
Sachiko glanced up from the thank-you letter she was writing to see if this called for motherly intervention yet, but Light looked more disappointed than angry.
"You should be nicer, little sister," he said, mildly.
"Don't tell me what to do!" She got up and stomped out of the room. Light looked over at Sachiko, gave a little shrug, and picked his book up again.
It wasn't long before Sayu came back, mouth set in a determined line, carrying an unopened package of strawberry mochi.
Light reacted before Sachiko could frame a suitably stern response to this brazen theft. (Truth be told, she was secretly amused.)
"Sayu, those are mine. Stop being a brat."
"You're a brat!"
"Give it back."
"No! You're mean. You don't even want it!"
"Sayu," Sachiko said warningly.
"It's all right, mom," Light said. The anger had drained out of him, and he looked as composed as ever. "You can have it, Sayu."
Sayu glared at him a moment longer, then left with her prize.
"That was nice of you, Light," Sachiko said.
"It wasn't worth fighting over."
The next day, when Sachiko went shopping, she bought two new packages of mochi. She thought, standing in the checkout line, that she shouldn't reward Light for rewarding Sayu's bad behavior, but in the next moment, she felt he couldn't have been expected to understand that, and deserved it more than ever, for having been kind enough to give his little sister what she wanted.
She gave the candy to Light, and he looked up at her with a strangely adult expression, as if he had expected this. He was like that sometimes, so solemn for an eight-year-old. It gave nearly everything he said or did a grown-up gravity. "Thank you, mother."
Sachiko still doesn't know if Light ever ate that mochi. She doesn't know, either, why she thinks of that now, watching Light sit by his sister's bed. He holds her hand and speaks quietly to her, but Sachiko can hear his words.
"I'll make sure Mello pays for this, Sayu, even if I have to take justice into my own hands. Even if it brings me to Kira's attention." He looks more grim than Sachiko can remember seeing him, and she wants to say, Light, don't talk that way, but the memory of the New Year's candy is still with her, and she thinks, He'd say this is worth a fight.
She doesn't know what demon of distrust makes her wonder, the thought acknowledged and banished in the same instant, But for whose benefit is this, really?
Of course Light wants to reassure Sayu that she'll get better, that her suffering will be avenged. He's their light in more than just name, Sachiko's brilliant and beautiful boy, and if she was never sure exactly how to do the best for him, that was only because he was too smart, too thoughtful.
Her whole family, now, is tangled up in the Kira case, and Sachiko wonders sometimes if there was something she could have done, once upon a time, to keep it from coming to this. It's silly of her, she tells herself, as Light kisses Sayu's forehead like he's giving her a blessing, like he's sealing a promise. She couldn't love Soichiro and Light so if they were other than what they are.
Light gives her a bright smile that she wants to believe he doesn't have to fake. "Don't worry, mom. I know it's hard to believe right now, but it'll all work out for the best in the end."
Title: Winter
Rating: PG-13
Characters: Mello, Matt
Warnings: Swearing and real names
Word Count: 810
Summary: He'd wonder later if Mello could possibly have known how right he was.
Notes: I was delighted to find that there was a total lunar eclipse visible in the UK the night all the Higuchi stuff went down, and I had to write something that used it.
Matt woke up to someone shaking him.
"C'mon, get up!" That impatient whisper: Mello, of course.
"What time is?"
"Two-thirty, get a fucking move on."
Something landed on his head. Matt groped around, found it was his fleece jacket, and kicked at the blankets until he could sit up. "In the morning?"
Mello huffed. He was dressed to go out, with his own jacket, and a black wool cap flattening his bright hair. He'd been preoccupied and sulky for the last few days, but now he looked feverish and excited.
"Okay, okay, I'm up. Turn 'round."
Mello rolled his eyes, but looked away as Matt got dressed as quickly as he could in the dark. He still felt muzzy and slow, but whenever Mello dragged him into something like this, it was always worth it.
He followed Mello through the silent halls, into the moon-flooded common room, out the door to the grounds, where their breath made clouds even before Matt lit a cigarette.
"Where're we going?"
"Out to the hill. Don't whinge," he cut Matt off before he could do just that. "The walk won't kill you."
The grass crunched under their feet, and Matt looked up at the full moon. It seemed huge and heavy the way it sometimes got in autumn. It was kind of spooky. He jogged to catch up with Mello, who was stalking along at his usual quick pace. "What for, Mel?"
"I want you to see something."
Mello flopped onto the grass on the side of the hill that faced away from the House, and sat with his elbows on his knees. Matt sat more carefully beside him, making a face as the damp started to seep into his jeans.
"We're almost fifteen, Matty. Things are going to change."
"What's gotten into you?"
Mello shrugged one-shouldered, staring up at the moon. "You know how historically, the world'll swing one way, but you can't see what's changing until after?"
Matt nodded, even though he didn't see what Mello was getting at yet.
"You ever wonder," Mello went on, "if people feel it coming anyway, before anything even happens? Like in Poland in the '30s, or Russia in 1919. You think they knew?"
"I don't know, man. What do you think's coming?"
"I'm not sure yet. Watch." He pointed to the moon.
Matt hadn't known it was the night of an eclipse until a shadow started to grow across the moon. "Oh, wow." He shivered, and Mello leaned against him, and they sat like that, watching the whole thing.
"You dragged me out here for that?" Matt said, but quietly, when it was over.
"Not just that." Mello looked more peaceful now, but still solemn. "We're brothers, right?"
"Of course."
"I want it to be official." He pulled his switchblade out of his pocket, and Matt could feel himself pale, but he nodded.
Mello shifted around so they were facing each other. "Give me your hand, then."
Matt swallowed hard, and did.
Mello made a quick, straight cut on each of their thumbs, and pressed them together. Matt met his eyes, and he knew what he wanted to say, his own contribution to this ceremony, but it was a moment before he trusted himself not to stammer. "We... I think we should tell our names."
It was Mello's turn to hesitate before nodding, but he didn't look uncertain. He seemed to want to give the moment the weight it deserved. He closed his other hand around their thumbs, still bleeding, still held together, and leaned over and whispered into Matt's ear, "Mihael."
Matt pushed Mello's hair out of the way with unsteady fingers, and whispered back, "Mail." It felt like the most important and daring thing he'd ever done.
Mello tilted his head closer. Just his cheek against Matt's hair, and just for a moment, but it felt like a hug. He said, "Thank you," so quietly that Matt was never sure afterward that he hadn't imagined it.
Then Mello sat up straight and licked the blood—their blood—off his thumb with a grin that made his eyes seem more feral than usual. The spell, if it was a spell, was broken, and Matt let out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding.
"Give me a cigarette and I'll tuck you back in," Mello said.
"Dude, you're so weird."
A little more than a month later, Matt sat at his window, looking out into the night. He couldn't see the moon for the rain. Mello hadn't said goodbye. Matt played his words back in his mind: You can't see what's changing until after. Only one thing could have made him leave like that.
"I don't care what happens," Matt said, to the rain and the night, to the moon he couldn't see, and to one boy traveling alone. "Some things won't ever change."
Rating: PG
Characters: Light, Sayu, Sachiko
Warnings: None, really
Word Count: 733
Notes: I've been getting Light plot bunnies with alarming frequency lately! Thanks to
vashti for looking it (and the second one!) over pre-post.Sachiko can remember Light and Sayu fighting only once.
Sayu was five, and she'd already eaten all of her New Year's candy. She climbed up on the couch, where Light was reading. "Big brother, I want some mochi."
"Then you should have saved it like I did," Light said, with a little smile.
"But now you have it all and I don't have any."
Light turned a page. "We started with the same amount of candy, Sayu."
His calm seemed to annoy her. "You should be nicer to me, big brother."
Light's expression didn't change, but he set the book aside. "I am nice to you. Who fixed your kite when it was torn?"
"You did," Sayu admitted, still pouting. "But that was ages ago."
"It was two weeks ago."
"Shut up, Light, you're such a know-it-all."
Sachiko glanced up from the thank-you letter she was writing to see if this called for motherly intervention yet, but Light looked more disappointed than angry.
"You should be nicer, little sister," he said, mildly.
"Don't tell me what to do!" She got up and stomped out of the room. Light looked over at Sachiko, gave a little shrug, and picked his book up again.
It wasn't long before Sayu came back, mouth set in a determined line, carrying an unopened package of strawberry mochi.
Light reacted before Sachiko could frame a suitably stern response to this brazen theft. (Truth be told, she was secretly amused.)
"Sayu, those are mine. Stop being a brat."
"You're a brat!"
"Give it back."
"No! You're mean. You don't even want it!"
"Sayu," Sachiko said warningly.
"It's all right, mom," Light said. The anger had drained out of him, and he looked as composed as ever. "You can have it, Sayu."
Sayu glared at him a moment longer, then left with her prize.
"That was nice of you, Light," Sachiko said.
"It wasn't worth fighting over."
The next day, when Sachiko went shopping, she bought two new packages of mochi. She thought, standing in the checkout line, that she shouldn't reward Light for rewarding Sayu's bad behavior, but in the next moment, she felt he couldn't have been expected to understand that, and deserved it more than ever, for having been kind enough to give his little sister what she wanted.
She gave the candy to Light, and he looked up at her with a strangely adult expression, as if he had expected this. He was like that sometimes, so solemn for an eight-year-old. It gave nearly everything he said or did a grown-up gravity. "Thank you, mother."
Sachiko still doesn't know if Light ever ate that mochi. She doesn't know, either, why she thinks of that now, watching Light sit by his sister's bed. He holds her hand and speaks quietly to her, but Sachiko can hear his words.
"I'll make sure Mello pays for this, Sayu, even if I have to take justice into my own hands. Even if it brings me to Kira's attention." He looks more grim than Sachiko can remember seeing him, and she wants to say, Light, don't talk that way, but the memory of the New Year's candy is still with her, and she thinks, He'd say this is worth a fight.
She doesn't know what demon of distrust makes her wonder, the thought acknowledged and banished in the same instant, But for whose benefit is this, really?
Of course Light wants to reassure Sayu that she'll get better, that her suffering will be avenged. He's their light in more than just name, Sachiko's brilliant and beautiful boy, and if she was never sure exactly how to do the best for him, that was only because he was too smart, too thoughtful.
Her whole family, now, is tangled up in the Kira case, and Sachiko wonders sometimes if there was something she could have done, once upon a time, to keep it from coming to this. It's silly of her, she tells herself, as Light kisses Sayu's forehead like he's giving her a blessing, like he's sealing a promise. She couldn't love Soichiro and Light so if they were other than what they are.
Light gives her a bright smile that she wants to believe he doesn't have to fake. "Don't worry, mom. I know it's hard to believe right now, but it'll all work out for the best in the end."
Title: Winter
Rating: PG-13
Characters: Mello, Matt
Warnings: Swearing and real names
Word Count: 810
Summary: He'd wonder later if Mello could possibly have known how right he was.
Notes: I was delighted to find that there was a total lunar eclipse visible in the UK the night all the Higuchi stuff went down, and I had to write something that used it.
Matt woke up to someone shaking him.
"C'mon, get up!" That impatient whisper: Mello, of course.
"What time is?"
"Two-thirty, get a fucking move on."
Something landed on his head. Matt groped around, found it was his fleece jacket, and kicked at the blankets until he could sit up. "In the morning?"
Mello huffed. He was dressed to go out, with his own jacket, and a black wool cap flattening his bright hair. He'd been preoccupied and sulky for the last few days, but now he looked feverish and excited.
"Okay, okay, I'm up. Turn 'round."
Mello rolled his eyes, but looked away as Matt got dressed as quickly as he could in the dark. He still felt muzzy and slow, but whenever Mello dragged him into something like this, it was always worth it.
He followed Mello through the silent halls, into the moon-flooded common room, out the door to the grounds, where their breath made clouds even before Matt lit a cigarette.
"Where're we going?"
"Out to the hill. Don't whinge," he cut Matt off before he could do just that. "The walk won't kill you."
The grass crunched under their feet, and Matt looked up at the full moon. It seemed huge and heavy the way it sometimes got in autumn. It was kind of spooky. He jogged to catch up with Mello, who was stalking along at his usual quick pace. "What for, Mel?"
"I want you to see something."
Mello flopped onto the grass on the side of the hill that faced away from the House, and sat with his elbows on his knees. Matt sat more carefully beside him, making a face as the damp started to seep into his jeans.
"We're almost fifteen, Matty. Things are going to change."
"What's gotten into you?"
Mello shrugged one-shouldered, staring up at the moon. "You know how historically, the world'll swing one way, but you can't see what's changing until after?"
Matt nodded, even though he didn't see what Mello was getting at yet.
"You ever wonder," Mello went on, "if people feel it coming anyway, before anything even happens? Like in Poland in the '30s, or Russia in 1919. You think they knew?"
"I don't know, man. What do you think's coming?"
"I'm not sure yet. Watch." He pointed to the moon.
Matt hadn't known it was the night of an eclipse until a shadow started to grow across the moon. "Oh, wow." He shivered, and Mello leaned against him, and they sat like that, watching the whole thing.
"You dragged me out here for that?" Matt said, but quietly, when it was over.
"Not just that." Mello looked more peaceful now, but still solemn. "We're brothers, right?"
"Of course."
"I want it to be official." He pulled his switchblade out of his pocket, and Matt could feel himself pale, but he nodded.
Mello shifted around so they were facing each other. "Give me your hand, then."
Matt swallowed hard, and did.
Mello made a quick, straight cut on each of their thumbs, and pressed them together. Matt met his eyes, and he knew what he wanted to say, his own contribution to this ceremony, but it was a moment before he trusted himself not to stammer. "We... I think we should tell our names."
It was Mello's turn to hesitate before nodding, but he didn't look uncertain. He seemed to want to give the moment the weight it deserved. He closed his other hand around their thumbs, still bleeding, still held together, and leaned over and whispered into Matt's ear, "Mihael."
Matt pushed Mello's hair out of the way with unsteady fingers, and whispered back, "Mail." It felt like the most important and daring thing he'd ever done.
Mello tilted his head closer. Just his cheek against Matt's hair, and just for a moment, but it felt like a hug. He said, "Thank you," so quietly that Matt was never sure afterward that he hadn't imagined it.
Then Mello sat up straight and licked the blood—their blood—off his thumb with a grin that made his eyes seem more feral than usual. The spell, if it was a spell, was broken, and Matt let out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding.
"Give me a cigarette and I'll tuck you back in," Mello said.
"Dude, you're so weird."
A little more than a month later, Matt sat at his window, looking out into the night. He couldn't see the moon for the rain. Mello hadn't said goodbye. Matt played his words back in his mind: You can't see what's changing until after. Only one thing could have made him leave like that.
"I don't care what happens," Matt said, to the rain and the night, to the moon he couldn't see, and to one boy traveling alone. "Some things won't ever change."