Predisposed to pride, Light settled with his flawed justice mere days after receiving his notebook. He knew that he was right, and that the world was too flawed to go on alone—and he had to be the one to right the wrongs that had been done to the innocent. He was a god, choosing to sacrifice himself for the sake of the earth.

Until someone he cares about makes a casual comment about Kira a month later.

“No, it’s just a slippery slope. Kira doesn’t even know if their victims are evil or not, despite what the verdict might be. And, crime is a part of free will, right?” You say to him as he lounges on his bed, watching you write at his desk. He stares at you for a while, surprised.

“Really?” Light asks, his voice a chuckle. Internal conflict secretly strikes his heart, and he can’t whole-heartedly consider anything but denial. He sounds ready to argue, sitting up and crisscrossing his legs, but waits a moment longer for you to take it back; despite everything, he keeps things gentle with you. “Isn’t a verdict enough? It’s law that decides. There’s a logical pattern behind the killings; the results speak for themselves.”