Light stood for a few moments before calmly walking into the kitchen and pouring himself a cool glass of water. He leaned on the kitchen sink and gulped it down.
"It must be all the stress," he reasoned. "I had some kind of waking nightmare."
As he concentrated on slowing his heartbeat, he listened to the howls of the wind. He could not believe how badly his mind had let him down; that he should be experiencing night terrors! He brushed his hands over his fevered face. It was humiliating. No matter that no one else would ever know, Light knew, and he was the most important person to himself.
He looked out the window situated above the sink. Aside from the distant balls of Christmas lights a few families had put up in their homes, the landscape was in total darkness. He focused on his reflection. It had been made slightly murky and distorted through night's black touch.
"You certainly are a worthy opponent, L." He said to his reflection; his dark half. "No," he sniggered, "rather you were a worthy opponent. The fact that you have God concerned and anxious," he cocked his head, a mad look in his eye which he did not recognise as possessing, "well done, L. Well do-"
Suddenly the sitting room's old oak Grandfather clock chimed out.
Lights heart leapt into his throat. Spinning around he faced the sitting room door.
Loud and ominous, unforgiving Time counted down his fate.
Light coughed, as if choking on fear. His rationality left his soul, vanishing like steam, such as it was.
Light was afraid, afraid!
And Time waited for no one.
Despite being God, he did not plan on meeting demons! Were the lazy and stupid Shinigami he dealt with not enough?
The last chime reverberated throughout the house.
He had never noticed how loud the clock was before. How did the Yagami's sleep through it?
Breathing heavily, Light began to look around manically. Where was it? This new horror? No doubt waiting to leap out at him!
Grasping a butcher knife from out of the drawer, crouched low like a native hunter in the jungle, Light stalked through the kitchen, entrance hall and kitchen.
No mist, no voices, no ethereal lights.
He stood upright, his relief matched only by embarrassment.
How could he have been so scared?
He laughed breathlessly.
"Back to bed Light." He muttered. He went back to the kitchen and picked up his glass, planning on taking it to bed with him. He closed his hand around the cool beaker, feeling its solidity and consequently feeling back in reality himself. With an almost a genuine smile, one Light had owned once upon a time, he looked up into the window.
A pale hand smashed against the window pane.
He leapt back, his hair rising and his eyes widening once more.
The hand curled. It belonged to a slim female. God, he hated women. The nails of the hand scratched down the glass before slamming against it again, demanding to be let inside.
Light shook his head. No, he was not going to play this game anymore!
Keeping his head down, he marched resolutely out of the kitchen and headed upstairs.
There was that voice again, so pretty and so inviting. Well, Light had never been enchanted by any woman, nor did he plan to and this Being was no exception.
The voice seemed to multiply and grow louder and more insistent, like the autumn wind through the branches of a tree; light and gentle one moment, demanding and forceful the next.
Storming into his bedroom, Light immediately slipped and fell painfully to the floor, the glass he had been carrying smashed into pieces. Ice, rather than water, sprayed out from inside it, Light noticed. The ice from earlier was still present in his bedroom.
He scowled and began to get to his feet when something, with a loud BANG, slammed against his window. His eyes shot up; the curtains were closed, shutting whatever was out there out of sight. However, with a BANG, it hit the window so hard that the curtains flew inwards from the force. The window began to rattle in the wooden panes. Looking around, Light saw the books on his shelf begin to shake and fall to the floor. The floorboards began to rise; putting his hand over them he realised that cold air was blowing up through the cracks.
It was as if Nature was trying to get into the house. Again, it was blurring the boundaries and Light felt queasy at the very notion.
He would have to open the window. Giving this thing what it wanted would be better than this unnatural travesty.
Slipping and sliding in the most undignified manner, Light ran to the window and ripped open the curtains. Instantly the violence in the room halted. Light gaped.
Floating outside his window was...an angel?
No, it was too small...
But it had no wings.
The creature smiled at him. A light, wholesome glow surrounded its small body. Light began to realise that it was some form of human toddler, or more specifically, a little girl. Her face had an innocence within it that reminded Light of that fool Matsuda. She wore a single white dress. Ebony curls complimented her equally dark eyes. Still smiling with rose bud lips, the cherub child blinked at him patiently.
With a marked expression of bland indifference, as Light was not one to swoon idiotically over pretty children especially ones that could glow and float, he opened the window. With a flash of miracle white light, the spirit-child disappeared. He frowned. Then he noticed a light behind him; he turned to find the spirit-child floating in his room. It smiled at him once more.
"So, you are the Spirit of Past?"
"I am." The melodic voice that answered belonged to an adult female, though this was a more humanised version of what he'd heard earlier. Light also noted that the spirit had not moved its lips. He knew it had been the spirit that answered but the voice seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere.
His eyes scanned its minute body with displeasure.
"Do not underestimate me, Yagami-Kun," hummed the ghost child. "Take my hand; I have to take you now, for my time is short."
"What if I do not?" Light challenged, hardly intimidated by the small female.
"Then Higuchi's fate will be yours as well."
He sighed and leaned forward to grasp the small hand. Suddenly the room felt as if it were spinning and the child's glow shone brighter all around them. Light squeezed his eyes shut, wind beginning to make them sore.
His body rose from the floor as he felt it become physically lighter.
The spinning became faster. Unable to withhold his curiosity, Light opened his eyes slightly to squint at what was around him. Though the twisting light around them was technically white, Light could see the occasional flashes of red, blue, pink and other rainbow colours.
Around them were whispers and noises similar to what he had heard in his bedroom. At one point he heard a child's laughter to his right, whilst simultaneously hearing the distraught sob of another to his left.
Whilst not as frightening as the experiences he had endured earlier, Light certainly felt uneasy. He realised that it wasn't exactly time itself they were travelling through, as if time were an impersonal entity, but rather they were journeying through the human consciousness of all mankind. It was through memories that they travelled, and so every cry, every yell of pain, every gasp of joy was completely real and human and personal. For someone like Light, who had such issues with emotions, being enveloped in their physical form was alarming.
Eventually, to his relief, the sensations began to grind to a halt.
"Open your eyes, Yagami-kun and see your history."
Opening his eyes, he saw that they were outside his family home. Sparkling new snow was heavy on the ground and the light grey skies alerted him to the fact that it was early morning. The front door of their home opened and out ran a young Sayu and Light, Light being around twelve years old.
Wrapped up to stave off the cold, and kissed and coddled by their mother, the siblings waved goodbye and headed off to school. Light and Past followed after them unseen.
Poor Sayu, compared to Light she was so plain. Her straight, black hair and dark almond eyes made her a typical Japanese girl; she was distinctly average. Adult Light could see all the appreciative glances his younger counterpart received from others in the street as he strolled down it like he owned the place. Adult Light smirked; he had always been destined to rule. He was like Alexander the Great or Augustus Caesar- living proof that Greatness is born.
"So Big Brother," Sayu was yapping away while struggling to keep up with her brothers' strides, "please help me with my homework tonight?"
"Of course, Sayu," he smiled indulgently at her.
"Erm, I know I'm annoying Big Brother; I wish I was as clever as you."
Young Light turned to her, "You are clever Sayu; you just need more confidence."
'Wow,' thought Older Light, 'I was a great actor even then.'
She beamed with pleasure before the two parted at the entrance of their school. Light went to follow after his younger self, but realised the spirit of past was not with him. He turned to her, confusion on his face.
"We follow your sister," she instructed.
Light was flabbergasted; of what use or interest was Sayu?