Chapter Text
Human school is interesting.
Technically speaking, Ryuk has seen most of human history and then some, but he’s done so from quite a distance. From up above, human beings shooting at each other and shouting at each other and killing each other with knives and spears and swords means hardly anything at all; and he’s never even looked at art. It hasn’t occurred to him.
Shinigami make carvings and clothes. They love to decorate themselves, and to carve beautiful things with which to gamble. But that’s as far as it goes. Ryuk has always been strange, drawn to humans and to human things, but he wasn’t so strange that he hadn’t thought of this. The idea of imbuing meaning into anything for the sake of it simply was not part of his vocabulary, and so he’d never thought of looking any closer at the odd little drawings humans made, or the winding lies they told each other and called stories.
But the likes these things, now. He loves to sit behind Light as he flips through the channels on television, or grab a controller and make the funny little people in video games do just about whatever he wants and he likes this now, watching Light stand at his desk and read with a book open in his hand, words in precise and accented English.
“Tell that its sculptor well these passions read
Which yet survive, stamped on these lifeless things,
the hand that mocked them, and the heart that fed —“
The air in the room is still except for the occasional cold stream of air that comes from one of the back windows, which a girl with bobbed hair had surreptitiously opened while the teacher was looking away. It’s cold outside, but the bodies in here keep it warm. The walls are painted dark, and that makes the whole thing feel small and somehow stifled, but there’s a quiet intensity to Light’s voice that opens up a door to some distant place. It is clear that he’s walked through it and is living in whatever world the poet spun.
The other students are watching him, too, or at least most of them — some are looking down at their desks, or casting vague glances at one another, lost in their thoughts the way humans always are, but most of them have their eyes on Light. They’re looking at him like he’s an interesting curiosity. With fondness, mostly. Often they treat him like he is a pet of theirs, or as if he were a younger sibling, the way Light treats Sayu.
Ryuk likes this. He likes that humans like Light; he likes that they know he’s precious, too. Special. Not like the others. Not better, either, but different, unique as a sliver of glass in a bed of stones.
“What does that mean?” the teacher asks. He’s got a low, droning voice. Not unpleasant, but vaguely reminiscent of the gossamer wings of a fly.
Light gives a brief translation, which is mostly right. Ryuk could have offered him the tongue of a Shinigami too, so he could speak any language he wanted, but he hadn’t bothered because he was quite sure what the answer would have been.
The teacher nods. He does not correct Light’s mistakes. Maybe he hadn’t noticed, or maybe they’re minute enough that he doesn’t care. “And can you explain it?”
Light looks up from the page, looking momentarily disoriented. “I just did.”
“You translated it. Can you explain the meaning?”
Light looks back at the paper. He squints. “It’s about a statue of an ancient king who did amazing things in his lifetime. So it’s about … the passions that are left behind. The king is dead but the sculpture is still here, so the king won’t be forgotten. Even after you die, your legacy stays behind.”
The teacher frowns. “What about the last three lines?”
Ryuk plays them back in his mind.
Nothing beside remains. Round the decay
Of that colossal Wreck, boundless and bare
The lone and level sands stretch far away.
Light’s frown deepens. He doesn’t like this, Ryuk can tell; it’s too close to humiliation, to being told is wrong, which is the worst thing that could ever happen to him.
“It’s about what I just said,” he says, and Ryuk can tell the teacher is about to expand when the bell rings and the interaction ends. Bully for the teacher, really. Ryuk doubts that Light would go so far as to kill him but he’d probably think about it if this went on for much longer.
Light packs his books into his bag silently. The boy next to him taps the desk beside him. Pupal humans are always touching one another — the boys with a kind of restrained violence, the girls with something that seems closer to the affection they’re trying to convey if Ryuk could speak in broad strokes — but they never touch Light. It’s part of that kindness they show him.
“Hey,” he says. “You mind coming to the library again to help me with English? My grades are in the toilet, so …”
“Yeah,” says Light, and flashes him a smile. “Sure. I have to run, but we can plan after lunch.”
“Thanks,” says the boy. “Seriously, you’re a lifesaver.”
Light stands up, but the boy keeps talking. “By the way, I don’t know if anyone told you there’s like, a thing in Ueno park this weekend? If you want to come?”
“No, I didn’t know that.”
“Well, if you do.”
“Thanks,” he says, and smiles again. “I’ll think about it. I’m sorry, but I really do …”
“Yeah, yeah, of course, go on. Sorry for keeping you.”
“No, anytime. Really. Thanks. See you later.”
He hitches his messenger bag over his shoulder, then walks out into the hallway.
Ryuk follows him, silent, as Light paces past the other students, quick and purposeful. He’d say something, but they can’t talk with so many people around. His shoulders are tight, and he’s biting at the inside of his bottom lip. He takes a direct route for the bathroom.
Ryuk follows him to up to the stall, then stops outside. He’s quite sure that Light is going in there to fist his hands into his hair and tug, the way he always does when he’s upset, but he’s learned that humans are very private about the elimination of their waste, and Light seems to expect any places where they do so to be treated as forbidden spaces. On the whole, Ryuk prefers not to be on the wrong end of Light’s anger, so he does so. No skin off his back, as it were.
When Light comes back out, his hair is sticking up on one side, so Ryuk know she was right, and his eyes are very faintly pink. Ryuk taps his own hair, and Light smoothes his hair down then heads to the mirror to straighten his tie and his jacket. He adjust his bag again, then heads back out into the hallway.