Re-emerging (open RP)
After the disaster in Hogsmeade and the meeting with his God, Mikami had barely left his room for over a fortnight. The house elves had agreed to bring his food there (although some of them were still unhappy with him for lasering parts of the Great Hall), and he'd taken some books from the library on his way back from Slytherin. Most of them were first-year level spell books, but there were a couple of extremely thick volumes on wizarding law. Those also made good makeshift weights. He still hadn't found a gym anywhere.
He had to keep working, keep learning. There had to be something he could do for Kira, even here, even now. Something to atone for his failure, to make things right again. He'd been letting things slide, and this was the result, but it wasn't too late. The end hadn't come yet. It had for Near, but not for Light Yagami, and God was the only one who mattered. Surely that future could be changed.
(If not, then he'd destroyed everything. He couldn't afford to let himself think of that.)
But there was a downside to constant studying. He'd run out of books a lot sooner than expected. So now, a slightly pale, withdrawn Mikami was in the library, counting the number of pages in the textbooks and occasionally weighing two against each other.
Feel free to talk to him. He needs the distraction, poor thing.
He had to keep working, keep learning. There had to be something he could do for Kira, even here, even now. Something to atone for his failure, to make things right again. He'd been letting things slide, and this was the result, but it wasn't too late. The end hadn't come yet. It had for Near, but not for Light Yagami, and God was the only one who mattered. Surely that future could be changed.
(If not, then he'd destroyed everything. He couldn't afford to let himself think of that.)
But there was a downside to constant studying. He'd run out of books a lot sooner than expected. So now, a slightly pale, withdrawn Mikami was in the library, counting the number of pages in the textbooks and occasionally weighing two against each other.
Feel free to talk to him. He needs the distraction, poor thing.