1Full Summary: All In The Blood (working title) - We can all agree that Light indeed yielded to the Evil of the Death Note all too easily, but what if he'd literally had it in him all along? After Light gives blood at a blood drive at his high school, a new force of Evil unleashes itself upon the world in the unsuspecting form... of a twelve year old car crash victim? Supernatural humor, no pairings decided yet, possible shounen-ai and such, medical-type lingo abounds! Rated T for safety.
Disclaimer: I do not own, nor am I in any way affiliated with the creation of Death Note, either the manga, the anime, or the many other items associated with Tsugumi Ohba and Takeshi Obata's creation. I do this for fun, not profit. I do not own the idea for "All In The Blood," it belongs to the lovely Ruin Takada, who has gratefully allowed me the chance to write out this idea, just to see where it goes.
Warnings: Light Yagami has a God Complex, and I am going to use that to an extreme level in some parts, seeing as this entire story revolves around his evil being genetic. Hopefully, you won't be too disappointed in me for this.
Author's Notes: Well, you can read it up there. I'm going to be trying out writing this fanfiction, with help from Ruin Takada when it's required (and, since I've never given blood before, for the first chapter or so, it will be required). For this moment, I'll have the Prologue to work on. I hope you all enjoy.
Song for Inspiration: Poets of the Fall, The Poet and the Muse.
Prologue:
Reshaping Destiny
The posters had been up in the hallway all week, bright red shapes on white paper with cheery requests for everyone to "Give blood today!" There had been announcements on the intercom, the teachers had all reminded the students, and everyone who could donate blood was going to. And that everyone included Light Yagami, a fresh-faced donor to the blood drive. The seventeen year old boy smiled as he walked through the pristine hallways, mostly ignoring the waves and greetings of people around him, the peons he rarely gave the time of day to. Yes, he was working to create a new world, to create a better world for them, but they didn't know that. They had no idea that they walked the same hallways as a God. No, not a God - God. That was who Light was - who Kira was. And he was a merciful God, wasn't he? Of course he was, and it was for that reason and that reason alone that the blood drive had become important to him. After all, who wouldn't want the blood of God running through their veins?
"Hey, Light. Are you ever going to tell me what these posters are about?" A raspy voice sounded from behind him, drawing the student's attention from the blood drive to the creature behind him, one that could only be termed as a monster, at least through appearance: tall, skeletal body, large, bugged out yellow eyes with a red iris, wild hair, and tattered wings folding out from its back, holding it aloft behind him. Its voice was one of the few things that could point it out as male, though only just, and it leaned closer to the brunet male to try and hear the answer. It saw Light roll his eyes and heard him whisper the words that no one else could hear, "Ryuk, I told you, they're for the blood drive."
"And what's that?" Ryuk was curious about this thing called a blood drive, something Light could tell easily from the tone of his voice. He probably didn't even know what blood was, and all that the Shinigami knew about "driving" was in cars. There was another puff of rank air against his ear as the creature whispered, "Tell me."
Why can't you just read the posters and figure it out? Light thought, keeping his pleasant expression on for anyone who was observing him, which was quite a lot of people. He couldn't have his image compromised by speaking to himself - after all, no one could see Ryuk but Light, seeing as he was the holder of the Shinigami's Death Note, which bound them together. If anyone noticed him talking to himself, he would have screwed up, which he couldn't let happen. And not screwing up included not talking to Ryuk in public, something the idiotic Shinigami still didn't seem to get. What else could I expect from him... A slight shake of the head and a clearing of the throat was all Light needed before he spoke, his voice even softer than before, "A blood drive is where people all get together to donate blood. It's usually taken up by a company like the Red Cross in America, and sent to hospitals for people awaiting blood transfusions. Sometimes the blood is turned into medicines, but it's mostly for transfusions. And don't ask me what a transfusion is. You know you aren't supposed to speak to me in school."
He had repeatedly told Ryuk that it was impossible for him to keep up a sane outlook, a normal, human outlook, if he was talking to himself. The Shinigami knew that and, to be honest, Light knew he didn't really care. After all, Light was just here to entertain him, as far as Ryuk was concerned - beyond that, he really had no purpose, no reason, nothing. And, as his entertainment, Ryuk thought Light should talk to him whenever Ryuk deigned to speak to him. And right now, it seemed the Shinigami needed to speak to him. After all, most of the words he had said were things that he had no knowledge of: what was a transfusion? Why was something called a Red Cross? Light was certain he knew what America was, at least - the lessons with his geography book had been very helpful during this, but Ryuk needed answers, and he wasn't above doing whatever it took to get them. Light knew this, so he wasn't too surprised when he felt a bony finger with a long nail dig into the skin of his back with the whispered words, "Tell me."
The feeling of one of Ryuk's nails digging into his back was painful enough to cause Light to wince and grit his teeth, something he usually did around the annoying "God of Death." He smoothed his features back out as he made it to his first class of the day, heading for his usual seat by the window. He could more or less sense Ryuk's annoyance with him now, and a small smile crossed his features. Serves you right. You'd think that repetition would teach you, but no, you just have to play stu-
"Students, settle down, settle down," the voice of the teacher, Mr. Higurashi, called. Light's head rose just in time to catch his next words: "It's my job to inform you all today that those of you who are donating blood and who have received your time cards are to go only when your time comes. Teachers will be checking the cards to make sure you aren't just trying to get out of class by saying you're donating. Remember that if you don't have a card, I can't let you leave."
There were some muted groans from people in the classroom, those idiots who thought that they could use something like a donation to get away from the tedium of books and droning speeches that were the norm. It was people like that, the ones who didn't care, that Light despised almost as much as he did the criminals that set out to ruin what he saw as his Perfect World. They were what was wrong, what needed to be corrected. They were nothing like him, nothing like God. Nothing could compare to him.
And in just a few short hours, he thought as he looked at the clock, his hand reaching into his pocket to pull out the time card he'd been given when he volunteered for the blood drive so he could check the time on it, I'll be able to prove it.
Brown eyes flickered down to the piece of paper in his hand, noting his name, Yagami, Light, his age, his blood type of A positive, and the time he would get to leave the tedium of classes to prove his worth to himself (not that it truly needed proving): noon.
Perfection.