Snow flurries like running birds, against the tall squealing silhouettes of Tokyo... His heart, felt as if countless rocks flung and crashed into it- causing the organ to shatter...Shatter across the white wood of birch, wondering. Wondering if he will manage to escape the trap of snow- which spread against each crack like acrylic modeling paste. Amongst his hands, clenched behind his fingers- the notebook stood still. Still in the movement as blood pushed down the fibers, warping the form for eternity's breath.
Light walked over to the window, reflecting on his busy surroundings...He always loved, loved his home...The cold winter months, with sticky skyscrapers overhead...But his hometown encouraged his tendency, to feel lonely.
Behind those tall silhouettes, a shadow plundered around. Walking forwards...Forwards to the building with a twist walk- almost...like a walk of the undead- where the shadow's tendons, where much shorter. His heart sunk as he knew who the shadow belongs too, Naomi Misora. A selfish shadow.
The brunette gulped, his eyes focusing on his own reflection. Greedy, smart...Those who knew him saw him as an angel, those who didn't know him saw him as an antichrist or bringer of life. Once...Long, long ago...he recused an old man from a burning building- but not even that scene, prepared for what Naomi had in store that evening.
Snow covered him, as he found himself outside...As the female came closer... But Light understood that rotten glint in her eyes.
"You killed my husband...I want revenge," she said in hushed tones, before suddenly...she disappeared...Hurring away in the distance...That night, couldn't hush his minds...As not even a cup of matcha tea...Could calm the butterfly nest of his stomach. ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀