It's a short way to fall from grace

[near_your_enemy]

It really is just nothingness.  Sort of.  Maybe, without the memories.  'Of course I killed him, Ryuk.  Would you honestly expect anything less of me?'  There are a few flickers of words, but not much else.  A rosary on the bedpost.  The wooden beads shining in the fragile light, the hand-painted maidens carefully flowing onto each small bead, all

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[near_your_enemy]

There is more walking, until he feels like he can almost support himself again, and he lifts himself from where he'd been leaning against the wall to try to walk on his own. This is when N first realizes that his hands are completely torn up.

He can't remember for a moment, and then it's just like, 'Oh, that's why there were five hundred something cranes in my bedroom'. And then he can remember the frantic folding, and why couldn't he feel the pain?

And then there is more walking. And more.

And before he knows it, there's a familiar figure in the hallway with him. N blinks for a moment, before taking a step back, hazy memories trying to blink through. Still, not quite getting what had happened.

"M... Mihael?" His voice is raspy from the screaming and lack of water for the past four or so days. "...is that you?"

[near_your_enemy]

He blinks at the response, before shrugging and letting his eyes drop. He's too emotionally drained for this.

"...I don't know."