Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The hallways of the penitentiary were barren, void of colors, and reeked of broken spirits. All of those spirits, bemoaning in their self-pity, had deserved their fate. To rot away in the pure, white walls of their quarters, barred from society and any comforts they had before. Justice had delivered them here, it came to thwart their sick livelihoods and left their souls to the dogs of law to feast upon. A feast, whose bones had been left behind here. Empty shells that once held meat were now lifeless, empty, and dead inside. 

That was all that was left here. 

While the building’s colors were primarily white, this place was no heaven. But rather, the gates to hell itself. 

Said justice, walking in the halls under the guise of a visitor, had passed over the property in echoed steps akin to an angel of death. The shadow looked left to right, glancing at the cells it passed by, and disregarded the lives inside every one of them. Those empty husks were no longer of any concern. Their guilt was as undeniable as the dark mop of hair covering the shadow’s head and umbrage under its piercing eyes. 

Justice slept for nothing, and yet sleep has somehow been lost by its own mistake. There was one innocent soul here. A folly of pride left them here misplaced and rotting. Their guilt that had once been so settled before, cracked under the icky foundations of ego.

If justice made a mistake, then does it deserve to be called such? 

‘Justice,’ the silhouette laughs knowingly in its head, ‘As if that had ever mattered at all.’

“Uh, Mr. Ryuzaki? The prisoner is in the room up ahead.” 

The man in question was cut off from his melodramatic thoughts, which was a shame, he quite enjoyed spewing such dark poetry. It was meaningless, but entertaining to do. It was more interesting than giving his attention to the guard speaking, their stench of newbie immediately giving him the excuse to not care about their existence. 

“Ah, I see. If you don’t mind, I’d like to speak with him alone.” 

“S-Speak to him alone —?!”

“Yes, alone. Stand by the door out here, I’ll call for you if I feel the need to do so.”

The guard shifted awkwardly and their partner cleared her throat to add her two-piece. “With all due respect, sir, I don’t think we’re allowed to–“

“Yes, you don’t think, do you? Meanwhile, I for one, know I’m allowed to go inside by myself. If you could please stand outside now, that would be best.” 

His voice was polite, but it was clear that pleasantries were quickly dying out. If you could have even called them that from the beginning. 

The two nodded in unison, one unlocked the door with a shaky jangle of keys, and both finally stood aside to let the meeting commence.

It had been far too long. 

It was his fault that it had been this late.

It was likely too late. 

Hiding his hesitation, L opened the cell door. 

Inside, there was a lone figure, sitting down perfectly cross-legged in the center of the empty room. A straight jacket wrapped around the body appeared to be the only thing keeping it upright. Their posture was abysmal, about as poor as the man who walked in, and long locks of knotted, mute brown hair were splayed messily. It created a curtain around the person's face, making it near impossible to tell what could be going on inside that once beautiful mind. A mind that was undeniably torn and shattered from the events of the past and now. 

Incarcerated in this room was one Light Yagami.

Or better known as Kira, the mass murderer who disappeared five years ago.

He had been here all along. 

But he wasn't Kira, was he? The killer had been free this whole time. 

Was justice only to be served now? Once the feast of law had already finished? When there was nothing left but bones picked clean and empty cups on the table? 

Oh, he had been standing at the door for far too long now. Getting lost in his melodrama once again, L knew Watari would be disappointed, he could almost hear it. 

“Well, the boy isn't going to be let out if you sit here and wallow, is he? Get a move on, make things better.” 

Accompany that dialogue with a polite tut and L could almost see the elder right beside him. The door clicked shut. Nobody else was inside but them. 

There was a faint, humorless chuckle, “Well, I wasn't expecting this today.” 

The voice was quiet but spoken clearly in Japanese. L knew the boy hadn't uttered that language to anyone in years and yet it still sounded crisp. It wasn't surprising, not even impressive, he was well aware of Light’s capabilities. The words were only notable because L was wondering how well-off the inmate’s dictionary would be in these…circumstances, that's all. 

“Is that right? Certainly, Light-kun anticipated us to meet again. He knew the way we finished things could not have been the end. Not for us.”

The faux amusement from before had faded away, “...Did I…?

A few beats passed and Light’s head rolled around on his shoulders before finally settling to tilt toward the ceiling. The curtain of hair fell. Gaunt cheeks and pale skin revealed themselves in their glorious frailty. 

But his eyes, shining and glinting in the light of the single bulb inside the room, were sharp. They glew vibrant cinnamon and speared L with relentless judgment, crazed in their efforts to follow every one of his movements and saddled with a deep pain never forgotten. There was something old about his appearance now, something tired. His hunched shoulders were burdened with an incomprehensible pressure, like broken, clipped wings that nobody could free from their heavy chains. His feral gaze only added to that image, an animal trapped underneath shackles against its will. You want to let it out, to stop its pain. But the second you move, jaws would snap and there was no freeing anyone.  

Light licked his canines, grinning beastly, “What do you want from me?”

L scratched his ankle with the ratty tennis shoe, “Light-kun doesn't think I’m allowed to visit old friends?” 

A sudden snarl ripped through the room, “Don’t talk to me like that! You can't call me that anymore, it's Kira now, remember?! I have been here for five years! If you wanted to visit for a social call, you would've done so sooner! Don’t act like we are friends—!”

He panted from the outburst, his posture rocking back and forth underneath the straight jacket. “You came here to mock me, didn't you?! Got bored of your new cases, huh? Decided to catch up with everybody’s favorite serial killer? You can't just leave me alone, can you?!”  

Light looked hysterical and violent. He bared his teeth and spat out the words with venom, composure forgotten as if it had never existed. And, looking at him now, he most likely never had. But it was okay, L expected something like this to occur. The detective knew the prisoner would have obtained some volatile attributes after serving unjustly for so long. However, it seemed even in his craze that Light understood L had anticipated his reaction, noticing L’s aloof attitude. His tantrum was cut short, realizing it was getting him nowhere. 

“I hate you so much …But I'm simply giving you what you wanted, aren't I? Entertainment? Poke the bear and watch it growl, huh? You're absolutely vile…” 

“I didn't come here to mock Light-kun.”

He clenched his teeth in suppressed rage, “Doesn’t sound like it to me…”

“I have come here to set you free.”

It was silent. 

Those words echoed inside the cell, ringing.

What was one supposed to say to that?

Suddenly, there was laughter.

It was an ugly sound, tearing up the quietude with fervor. L didn't like it. Such a hideous, hopeless sound shouldn't ever have come out of someone as beautiful as Light Yagami. Who, even now as he sat starved and broken, was as captivating as ever to L. He chortled with no joy, no pleasure, no satisfaction. It sounded like Light was making fun of laughter itself. 

“O-Oh, L! Did you stop by to show me a comedy routine—?! Haha—!”

His frame pulsed with mania as his head launched out to release more giggles. Light looked crazier than ever. Straight jacket and untamed hair adding to his stereotypical asylum look aside, L felt unease purely based on the despair in his voice. Despite that feeling, he took a few steps closer to the crazed man. 

“This isn’t a joke for Light-kun. He doesn’t deserve to be here.”

The laughter quickly disappeared.

“I was wrong to place him here, Light-kun can come back home to Japan.” 

Eyes shot from the ceiling back to L’s face.

“…Home…?”

“Yes, Light-kun can leave. He’s innocent and therefore is free.” L was only a few feet away from Light, and only now could he see the bruises and abrasions crawling up the prisoner’s neck. The dark smudges under his eyes were not shadows from the bulb like he thought before, but instead heavy bags that stood stark on his face. What L couldn't see was his legs, too busy swimming in the fabrics of the oversized, pale gray inmate clothes. The attire did not belong on Light Yagami, who much rather preferred to wear form-fitting outfits that showed off his slim figure. It was L’s thing to wear baggy clothes, it was he who didn't care about his appearance. L still wore his loose-fitted jeans and white long-sleeve, how come Light changed? Why did L let him change so much when he was stunning the way he was before? 

How could L let things go so poorly? 

“Does Light-kun not want to leave? I figured by how hard he fought for his innocence that he would jump in joy for the opportunity to change his scenery.” 

Light twitched inside his restraints, “This place…This place is a living hell, I've been dreaming for years to see the sun again…Of course, of course I want to escape…”  

L tilted his head in intrigue. 

“But you're a fool to think I'll fall for that.”

That was the only warning L was given before his feet were swiped and his back abruptly met the concrete floor. Flashes of movement occurred up above as he tried to blink back the sudden brightness he faced from the direct light overhead him. Automatically, he braced his arms to help himself back up but that appeared to have been a mistake. A hand quickly took his wrists and twisted them above his head, pressuring them down. There was a cold presence on his neck. L quickly figured out what it was. A knife.

“Y’know, I’ve been dreaming of this moment since I got here…Seeing you walk in, striking you to the floor, and driving a blade into your pitiful throat…Watching you die…It’s all I ask for, now.” 

Light had him straddled to the floor, his shins digging into L’s thighs to keep him trapped. L could feel Light’s hot breath fanning over his face as he spoke. 

“It became the only thing I could think about, hope for, even…You’ve ruined me, L…For so many things…”

How was L going to get out of this?

“...For a minute, I almost didn't do it, but then I heard your stupid idea of a joke, and well, here we are.”

The only thing sharper than the blade at his throat was Light’s eyes. They pinned him down with a cold gaze better than any weight or pressure could. L had a feeling anything he said wouldn't get through to the young man, but he had to try, didn't he?

“It's a wonder how Light-kun retained his flexibility enough to escape his restraints in such a quick fashion.” 

…

Okay, so there may have been a better option than that-

“Very cute, L, but smooth talk isn't going to save you now. It didn't save me either, remember?” 

L is pretty sure that was one of the worst things to say instantly. The knife had only dug deeper against his neck, any more movements from here and Near was going to get a riveting promotion. However, the detective’s position wouldn't get any better by waiting for it, right? He opened his mouth for a second shot at surviving. 

Light moved up further against him, now sitting in his lap and pushing more of his body to keep him down. 

L’s brain had short-circuited. 

“I-I find it even more curious how he managed to keep contraband on him, I was sure the guards here would be more careful than that.” 

Maybe he should've stopped when he had the chance. 

Light’s eyebrows pinched in confusion? Irritation? Amusement? All of the above? It was hard to tell. “Are you seriously choosing those to be your last words?” He said, trying to get the conversation back on track. 

“What is there to say? Light-kun has made it clear he wants me dead, and nothing gets in the way of what he wants, correct?” 

“Well, there are a few things…”

The hand on his wrists abandoned their post to savagely yank L’s hair up and hold it. Light moved even further to press on his naval and had his armed hand pulled back to strike against the open target. “To name one, there’s this bastard sloth of a detective that put me unjustly in prison for years!” 

The grip pulling on his hair grew tighter and tighter, Light’s armed cranked around before launching to stab and eventually end L’s life. He didn't fight it, it wasn’t like Light was wrong to take revenge, all of his sufferings were L’s fault. The older man had abandoned him, trusted ego over his begging, and left Light to rot when they could’ve worked together, could've been friends, could’ve even been—

The wind reached L’s neck but stopped there. No knife made contact. The grasp on L’s hair suddenly let go and his head unceremoniously dropped against the concrete with a thud. L opened his eyes to look up, not realizing he had them shut tight before. 

Light sat, hunched over like a puppet whose strings had been cut. He held the knife in his hand but had it slack against L’s stomach. His head was down, hair curtaining over his face once more, however, due to L’s unprofessional position, he could still see the prisoner’s eyes. They were dark, unfocused, and blended with a mess of emotions he couldn't put a name to. Looking even harder, the detective noticed there was a wet shine to Light’s eyes. 

Swallowing and sighing weakly, the inmate quietly stood up.

“Forget it. You ruined the moment anyway.” 

He stepped away from L, turned his back to him, and sagged over to the corner of the cell, blade still in hand. Actually, now that L had a better look at it, it wasn't a knife at all. It was a box cutter. Where on earth did he manage to get that?

Light flopped to the floor and set his gaze on L once again. He steeled himself and guarded the mess of emotions L had glanced at earlier with such ferocity it kept the older man pinned to the floor for a few moments. Sitting up, L decided to sit cross-legged rather than in his usual crouch, going for an uncanny kind of feel. If Light could make him uncomfortable, then so could he. 

He decided to get straight to the point to cut the tension in the room, “Why didn't Light-kun kill me? He was more than justified to do so.”

An unamused snort was his response,  “I figured if you were allowed to use me for sick entertainment, then I could too. It's been forever since I've had a good conversation and killing you would’ve ruined that chance.” 

They both knew that first statement was a lie.

“Of course. In any case, my questions still stand. How did Light-kun manage to remove his straightjacket by himself? Where did he get the weapon? I own this building, so any issues with the security would be helpful to know.” 

Light craned an eyebrow up, the question of “Are you really asking that?” going left unsaid. L gestured to the abandoned straightjacket left in the middle of the room. 

Sighing, the inmate answered, “I learned about straightjacket maneuvers at the beginning of high school while I was bored. Once they stuck me into this thing, my past curiosity had paid off and I’ve been practicing…” 

L finished his sentence, “…For this moment?”

Light scoffed, “Not everything is about you, asshole.” 

To normal people, that was true, but for Light, perhaps that wasn’t. 

“And the box cutter?”

The inmate turned his head to the side swiftly in an aloof gesture, “Your guards are idiots, L. They come in here with whatever toys they want to use to mess with their favorite prisoner and drop a few on their way out. It was like taking candy from a baby.” He rolled his eyes mockingly. 

“The ones guarding this door do that?”

He shrugged, “I didn’t see them when you came in, so maybe? Does it matter?”

L’s voice grew harsh, “It’s a very serious matter, I don’t want the guards to behave so horribly in my establishment.” 

“Right, we can’t have any more prisoners sneaking in contraband—” 

“It’s important because Light-kun shouldn’t have experienced such cruelty when he’s already gone through enough.”

Light’s shoulders craned forward in aggression, “Oh, quit acting like you’re some noble hero! What did you honestly expect?! You told the prison that I’m Kira to people who would’ve despised him most! You knew what you were doing! You didn’t care before, so stop pretending you do now!” 

He was panting again, the little show of anger once again taking a toll on his weak body. Light’s body shifted to face the corner and away from L. “Disregard my earlier statement. Leave me alone. I’d rather stay here another 5 years than talk to you.” 

Ouch , that one hurt. 

“But Light-kun doesn’t have to stay here for that long, he can leave, remember? I understand he wasn’t Kira.” 

The figure curled in on itself, “Please stop saying that…” His voice was pitiful, like he was holding back fresh tears. Arms wrapped around to hug the torso in an effort of self-comfort. 

The unforgiving tension present with silence came back again. L didn’t know what else there was to be said. 

But he could try. 

“Light-kun looks awfully pale, has he not had any outdoor time?” 

The body grew smaller, if that was even possible, “They haven’t let me out, said it was ‘too dangerous’ and that ‘if Kira could kill from long distances, then he could possibly escape to long distances.’ Morons, they don’t understand anything.”

“But surely, he’s been outside of his cell, right?”

Light glanced back with steel in his gaze, “Why do you care? I don’t need to tell you any of this.”

“It’s imperative that I grasp Light-kun’s situation. Would he rather us sit here and do nothing? What he's done for years incarcerated?” 

It was a low blow, but the line proved to be effective. The younger man sighed, and continued, “At first, yeah, I was allowed in the common areas as long as I was flocked by two officers. The cafeteria, the showers, the fake courtyard…They stopped letting me out a while ago, things got too…violent.” 

“Would Light-kun care to elaborate?”

“...No, he wouldn't.”

L didn't want to push it, not when the conversation finally entered some form of stability. They should move on if he wanted to build the bridge between the two in a timely manner. 

“Would Light-kun care to hear about any of my recent cases? He's still interested in law enforcement, yes?” It seems a shift in the conversation was the correct choice if the tension slowly unwinding from Light’s body was anything to go by.

“I don't know, am I? That particular interest hasn't really served me well lately. Literally.” 

“Then would he like to hear about any of my other activities since the Kira case?”

Light’s face twitched into a brief scowl before settling back into his usual resting bitch face, “...Sure.”

L thought for a while.

“Anyways, so back to the cases—”

“Seriously, L? You can't think of anything else?”

The older man sunk his face into a childish pout, “Light-kun is well aware my career takes up the majority of my time.”

“I mean, I figured your life was sad and miserable but I hoped you had at least something going for you besides sitting on your ass pressing keys left and right—”

“Perhaps we should change the topic of discussion, yes? 

The brunette made a snort that almost sounded genuine, “Whatever you say, L.”

His brow furrowed briefly at that, “I'm aware I hadn't mentioned it before, but I would appreciate it if Light-kun didn't use that certain alias here, I’m going by Ryuzaki Rue, an agent of L’s just checking up on the penitentiary.” 

“Calm down, L, there aren't any cameras here, are there? And before you lie and say there are, I've already checked several times in my time here. If you try to refute that by saying they just recently put them in while I was asleep, I also know that the guards were only aware of your visit two days ago, and I haven't slept since.” Ah, there it was, that insufferable smug face that irritated L on his best days. He didn't miss it one bit. 

He didn't want to break this good vibe, however, so he egged the inmate on, “Only two days, Light-kun? That's nothing. In fact, he should know that the longest I've gone without sleep is—”

“13 days and 16 hours, L, I know.”

He tilted his head in confusion, “I’ve told Light-kun this story? I can't recall.”

Light chuckled and finally turned around enough to face the other man, “Of course, you don’t remember, you looked pretty out of it. I woke up one morning to find you sleeping next to me, you drooled yourself awake a few minutes later and told me you were disappointed to have fallen asleep because you were trying to break that record. I remember telling you there was no point because your best couldn't ever be recorded worldwide without your name and you counter-argued by raising my percentage like a brat.” 

“Light-kun is the bratty one between us, he shouldn't think I forgot about that one time he tripped me down the stairs-”

“I didn't trip you down the stairs! You were too busy licking a syrup stain off your shirt and slipped on the steps!” The younger man was laughing now, his gaunt cheeks held up by mirth. L cracked a crooked smile back, pleased to see his strategy working and witness a lovely scene he knew was rare. 

But just as soon as things brightened up, they grew dark quickly.

Light’s head staggered down to look at the box cutter between his hands, “B-But all of those moments didn't matter, h-huh…?” His previous shakes from laughter now turned unstable, twitchy, and crushing on his body. “Heh, I guess-I guess not…not to L…They didn't matter then a-and don't matter now, right…? Because, because I'm Kira after all…haha…” He whimpered, “...You never cared about me.”

His expression fell, L didn't know whether he should be disappointed in himself, sad for Light, or both. “That’s not true-

Cinnamon eyes shot up and pale brown locks of hair swayed around furiously, “Then WHY?! Why are you here if not to make fun of me?! Why do you keep saying I can leave now?! Why did you imprison me here when you said you loved me—?!”

This was too much, too quickly, all L could do in response was turn his head away and swallow in shame. “Light-kun deserves an apology better than I could give him.”

He didn't say anything in response, clutching the weapon tightly to his chest in hostility. The man never answered any of his questions, after all. 

L sighed, “There's been an update on the Kira case, heart attacks are piling up unexpectedly and internationally at a pace never seen before…Seeing as you have been here under close scrutiny for many years, therefore marking you as not the perpetrator, the Japanese government has asked for your safe return home with compensation and sincerest apologies from law enforcement. And, while you're under no obligation to, L had offered to personally retrieve you to Japan so that he could offer you a position back on the task force to perhaps personally deliver retribution to the killer you’ve been framed as. Of course, it's understandable if you refuse both condolences, and the U.S. government has suggested they bring you to Japan instead, or anywhere else if you decide to start anew someplace else…” The ending words, “away from me” went unspoken. 

There was a quiet clack that echoed throughout the cell. Light dropped his blade, body stiff and face completely gobsmacked. 

“Y-You’re lying…you have to be…”

L removed all stoicism from his expression the best he could before slowly shaking his head in silent rebuttal. Light knew L enough to discern he was telling the truth.

A shaky palm covered the young man’s mouth in shock as his body leaned against the wall, unbalanced and stupefied, “Oh, God…” Tears started slipping down the stretched face without any regard for their audience. Silent crying soon turned into desperate, painful sobbing. “I can leave—! I can leave—!” A breathless voice kept panting out that phrase over and over again, undeniably relieved but dripping with a despair of all kinds. 

Justice, sitting in front of its one true victim, was at a loss for words.

Chapter Text

The heavy footsteps from the guards were the loudest noise inside the building. Probably the loudest noise the entire prison had ever heard since its opening. Every prisoner from inside their cell had perked up and stood at their doors to witness what appeared to be someone being escorted to their execution. From the outside, at least, that’s what it looked like. 

‘Good thing it’s quite the opposite.’ L hummed to himself. The inmates weren’t made aware of the situation for obvious reasons, but more so, they shouldn’t even have known Light was convicted as Kira. The detective specifically only informed the security and supervisors of that little tidbit for precautionary measures, but it made its way to the criminals anyway. L should’ve guessed the staff here would be spiteful enough to tell those most hateful of Kira that he was within the vicinity, powerless and hardly cared for. If what L has managed to understand from their previous conversation was right, his carelessness made life only more miserable for Light. 

L gritted his teeth, ‘I should’ve made more protective measures for Light-kun, but instead I…’ He didn’t care at the time, or at least, he tried not to care anymore. Maybe he should think less about the what-ifs for now, or else he would run himself as haggard as the convicts. They appeared to be making quite a stir, too. This was the most entertainment the inmates had gotten in a while, and it was obvious they were relishing the experience, unless of course L’s ears were failing him as of a few minutes ago. Which could have been possible, seeing as how things were starting to get violently loud enough to pop anyone’s eardrums. 

“Look at little Kira…Guess the guards got tired of dragging your sorry ass around, eh? They’re finally putting you down like the pup you are…” 

“Haha–! Karma’s a bitch, ain't it?! Now you're getting killed off, asshole!”

“Hey, how come he's allowed to walk unrestrained?! You fuckers didn't give Earl that same privilege when it was his time on the chopping block–!” 

Unlike L, Light appeared to be enjoying all of the attention, grinning smugly at every cellmate they walked past like they all were pitiful little ants and he held the lens underneath the sun. Sometimes, he even waved at the inmates with the mocking grace of royalty if they provoked him enough. The escorting to L’s private jet which was meant to be low-key had suddenly escalated to a marching parade and Light got a kick out of all of it. All of the guards and L, on the other hand, were getting antsier and antsier as time went on. Their coordinated walk turned into a brisk jog once Light flipped the bird to a certain prisoner and a brief scuffle broke out. Breaking the youngest official free from that convict’s grip through the slot bars wasn't fun for anyone.

Two officers began manhandling Light down the hallway to the exit because he moved too slowly to keep up with the new pace. Despite not having his restraints, he was still limping behind. Even so, he was laughing like the cat who got the cream. Noise, noise, noise, it was too much for L to take in all at once. Footsteps, shouts, banging walls, breathless laughter, all coming in from different directions. If L didn't learn masking years ago, he would be covering his ears in futility. 

He heard the door opening and finally, there was silence. 

He looked up to see Light, shoving his way through the guards and taking a few steps further into the outside world. 

The young man gasped quietly and moved his head slowly left and right to take in everything he could see. Drink the atmosphere and gulp it all in. He looked in shock, his lips were trembling, and he relentlessly brushed aside his overgrown fringe so he wouldn't miss a second of the reality before him. The world looked so much bigger than Light, who shakily stood in the midst of it all with his long hair and gray clothes, malnourished and bruised as all hell. Light was practically camouflaged in the concrete of the runway where L’s private jet stood. Grand, dry cliffs of the Santa Monica mountains where the penitentiary was buried never looked as overwhelming as they did now. Tilting his head up to breathe in the sunlight, Light looked disappointed to see it was buried by clouds in the murky sky. 

A gust of wind passed by, and the younger man looked shaken by it. His knees trembled until the same guards who dragged him out took hold of him again. Light was gasping for air. L couldn't tell if it was because he was hyperventilating from the shock or because he was desperately trying to swallow as much of the fresh air as he could. Either way, it was pitiful to look at. 

“Take him to the plane and ensure he doesn't fall,” L ordered the two and followed behind closely as they navigated his friend(?) up the stairs. Opening the door to the jet stood Watari, who dismissed the officers and helped Light take one of the seats. L immediately sat down in his usual crouch across from him, the window on the wall between the chairs granting them ample space from each other. 

“Is Light-kun okay? Should I have Watari give him some water?”

Light semi-glared and whimpered back in response, clutching the smooth arms of the chair in an attempt to gather his bearings. “Sh-Shut up…” He was still having trouble breathing. L frowned a little at the response, “Does Light-kun not want me to do anything to help?”

Light rapidly shook his head before launching it harshly against the back of his seat, panting harder and intensely gazing at the window with a want L couldn’t name. So, he decided to push harder. “Things would be easier if Light-kun made it more clear what he wanted from me. He doesn’t have to handle the issue on his own.” His mentor discussed with him prior to arriving methods of repairing his relationship with the brunette, one of them being open communication. However, it didn’t seem to be working as of late. 

Watari gave L an admonishing look as he returned to Light’s side and held something up to his face, “Eat this, it might help.” Light opened his mouth for him, panting and eyes glazed in weakness. Gently, Watari placed an ice cube inside. 

Like magic, Light sucked on the ice and steadily found his air back by breathing through his nose. His chest expanded and fell to a reasonable place. Eventually finishing the frozen treat, he opened his mouth to speak, “Thanks…” It looked like it physically pained him to say that. 

The elder nodded politely in return, “Of course,” brandishing a paper from his suit jacket, Watari held it out to L, “Ryuzaki, here is the menu for the restaurant nearby that you wanted to see, tell me what you two want and I’ll retrieve it before we leave.”

Grasping the paper between his fingers, L read it over from the front and back, taking longer than necessary as he thought of ways to strike up a conversation. Taking the easy way out like the coward L wasn’t , Watari bowed to the two men and departed from their vision. Figures he expected L to steer the situation on his lonesome. 

“Did Light-kun enjoy seeing the outside world after so long?”

Light snapped his gaze to L with hostility, “ Gee , L, I don't know. Did I?” 

L shrugged his shoulders, “I'll admit, I didn't expect Light-kun to have such a negative reaction. Does he want to talk about it?”

“L, you're the last person I’d feel comfortable talking to about my feelings. Since when were you into being a therapist? When you found out that you weren't so good at being a detective after all?” The other man rolled his eyes and bit back.

The older man barely stopped himself from ducking his head in shame, “Perhaps Light-kun would like to order some food?”

He crossed his arms and sighed, “And now he's a damn waiter…” Light held his hand out for L and pinched his lips together in irritation. Confused, the detective placed his hand on top of Light’s, looking into the other man’s gaze questioningly. “What does Light-kun want?”

So much for open communication. Face shifting into bewilderment and embarrassment, Light snatched the paper from L’s other hand, “The menu, dumbass! God, why do you have to be so socially inept?” 

He pouted, also embarrassed, “Light-kun is well aware my career is–”

“Yeah, yeah, very demanding, I get it. Now be quiet, I would like to read this in silence, thank you.” To be honest, L found his attitude grating. It was completely deserved, sure, however, if L had to continue putting up with it for the rest of the investigation, then he was going to need to start drinking like every other adult in their thirties. Granted, he was only 29, but it was his birthday in a few weeks, so starting early would be a non-issue.

Smirking mischievously, Light tossed the menu back to L and called out, “Watari, I think we're ready to order!” 

Being summoned upon, Watari speedily made his way over. Wherever he came from, the detective didn't know. “Yes?”

L decided to go first, “Get me a strawberry parfait, a serving of castella, a cup of chocolate coffee jelly, and hm, let's see….” he put his finger under his chin, “a plate of their wagashi. That should be it, I believe. What does Light-kun want?”

Light’s face, turning expressionless, swiveled to Watari with a deadpan look. “May I please have a serving of their miso soup, yakitori, udon, tonkatsu, tempura, onigiri, and grilled unagi? Thank you.” He spoke without any inflection like it was obvious what he wanted before he even spoke. Completely void of humor. However, both Watari and L couldn't help looking at him like they were waiting for a punchline of some kind. 

Coughing awkwardly, Watari replied, “...Is that all?”

Light mimicked L’s previous pose. “Actually, now that I think about it, could you also bring me a brown sugar boba tea? Sorry for the trouble.” He didn't look sorry at all.

Ever the gentlemen, Watari collected the menu from L and made his way out of the jet, “It's no problem at all, I should be back in about an hour. Or maybe longer, due to a large number of items. I'll see you boys later.” He tilted his head at Light in question, as if waiting for him to crack. No such thing happened. The elder took his phone out to call for a ride and left with efficiency. 

L observed Light further. The brunette’s legs refused to straighten out and sit reasonably. Back when they were chained to one another, Light sat with poise, either crossing his legs or keeping them tidy together. Looking at him now, it’s like his legs were forever trapped as a bendy straw. His current position seemed to be akin to a foldable chair, his rump sideways and knees pulled against his chest. Light’s head leaned on the soft arm of the seat, staring listlessly at the ceiling. He seemed to be off in his own world now. L doesn’t think he could drag him from there no matter how hard he pulled. 

Minutes passed by, and L watched the sun go down from the plane’s window. It’s been so long but they still haven’t taken off. How much time has passed? How much time did L waste? How much of Light wasted away in the time he was wrongfully imprisoned?

Seconds later, the door unlocked and Watari stepped inside. L could hear the telling crinkle of plastic bags from behind him. Stretching his neck back, the detective could catch sight of Watari slightly struggling with the heavy amount of takeout in his hands. Light seemed to be kicked out of his mind palace once he sniffed the savory air of hearty broth and grilled meats.

“Sorry for the delay, but it took a while to get back here, I hope you gentlemen weren't too bored.” Neither of them even realized it had been well over an hour. L would've felt bad for making his caretaker unnecessarily distressed by his absence if his stomach wasn't gurgling so much. “It's of no issue, Watari, when do you think we will take off?” 

Sniffling, the elder replied, “I believe I could get the jet moving in two hours, give or take.” 

“That is sufficient enough.”

Light crossed his arms and scoffed, “Christ, L, would it kill you to say ‘thank you’ or even ‘please’?”

Watari set up tray tables in front of the two men as they spoke, awkwardly setting up another one in front of Light when he realized that his orders wouldn't fit on just one. L watched with pensive interest, “It seems unnecessary to do so. I'm not one for social conventions.”

He chuckled half-heartedly, “Understatement of the century.”

“All done, I'll be nearby if you need anything else. Ryuzaki, would you like some tea?” 

“Yes, Watari, the usual.” The detective hardly paid him any mind, too enraptured by the specimen in front of him. 

His mentor left for the small kitchenette in the private jet. Distantly, L could hear the clinking and stirring of porcelain. He scrutinized the younger man in front of him, who had unwrapped and opened the feast in front of him with vigor. Light began furiously taking bites of everything at once, he tore into the cooked flesh, inhaled the noodles, and slurped down the broth without hardly breathing. If L didn't feel freaked out by the animalistic display, he would've been impressed by the sheer amount of speed at which Light was eating. His cinnamon eyes suddenly shot up and pierced at his own gaze, feral and accusing, as if daring him to comment. Unfortunately for Light, L wasn't going to hold his tongue this time, (not like he ever did before). 

“Light-kun has quite the appetite, I see.”

Producing a huff that sounded more like he was choking, Light swallowed his most recent bite, “Is that some kind of joke? L, thanks to you, I was fed suspicious slop and mystery jerky once a day for five years. I’m dying for some actual food, okay?” While the response was hostile, it was clear that L’s acknowledgment of his changed eating habits was embarrassing him. Taking a loud sip of his boba tea, Light made the effort to eat slower, cheeks dusted with pink. Watari returned with a tray containing L’s warm tea and a mini honey jar. His mentor placed it down next to his food, which had hardly been touched, “Here you are.”

Straightening his back, Watari glanced over at the brunette and nearly keeled over at the sight of Light abandoning his utensils and instead stuffing his face with his fingers. He fumbled a cough and promptly excused himself to finish starting up the plane. While it hardly looked like he noticed, L did observe that Light started wiping his hands with a napkin soon after. Deciding to give the younger man some privacy, the detective started picking at his food, and once he nibbled as much as he could stomach, he started setting up his tea. 

Pouring an excessive amount of honey into the brew, L couldn't help but get the feeling that he was being watched, and the lack of noise from Light’s loud chewing was unnerving him. He looked up to meet a forlorn gaze staring back at him. A sad smile played on Light’s lips, “No more sugar cubes? That's…surprising to see.”

L looked down at his reflection in the tea, “I had…lost my appetite for them...” He trailed off, not having much else to say. He didn't want to mention how sugar cubes reminded him of the Kira Investigation, of creating sugar towers in front of a wall of monitors, of sitting next to Light, of hearing his laughter, of just Light in general. Sometimes, when they both found things were going too slow, Light would knock over his towers in mischief, but L would build them up again and again. At one point, during some ungodly hour at night, the brunette helped the older man create the largest stack of sugar cubes he had ever seen. Remembering those things and missing them have tainted the taste of the sugary treat. 

Light raised a brow at the copious amount of honey he poured, “You still love sugar though, huh?”

“Light-kun knows me so well.” L smiled at him. 

He turned his head, letting the curtain of hair fall over his face, “Not really…”

The conversation turned stale once again. L bent his head back down to his drink, scrutinizing his reflection yet again. He had a feeling this was going to become routine for the rest of the investigation. If only they could just talk.

Light quietly ate as L reminisced. 

『••✎••』

Light had been breathless and sobbing for five minutes now, and didn’t seem ready to stop anytime soon. The inmate rocked himself back and forth and muttered the same phrase over and over again, holding himself in an effort to make himself look smaller than he was. As L stood there awkwardly, he couldn’t help but discern that Light was beginning to tear the skin off his arms with his fingernails. It was hard to notice at first, with his pale skin being nearly as mute as his gray clothes, but the sudden appearance of a bright, dripping scarlet caught his eyes. L rushed over at the sight as quickly as he could. He pulled Light’s hands away from his arms and tried to look into the prisoner’s eyes behind his hair. They were puffy and unseeing.

“Light-kun, please calm down.”

“C-Calm down—?!”

“Yes, please,” L moved his grip from Light’s hands and placed them onto his shoulders to ground him, “You’re hurting yourself.” The brunette didn’t look like he heard him, yet L saw his eyes starting to focus the more he spoke. 

“I can—I can go h-home…”

“Yes, you can.”

“B-But Kira…He’s—he’s still out there?”

“Seeing as you’re here, indeed he is.”

The detective puts his hands under Light’s armpits and guides him to stand up, the box cutter abandoned on the floor between them. The inmate’s legs shook and he leaned most of his weight on the man in front of him. Light desperately held onto L’s arms, “Don’t f-fucking touch me…” 

“Light-kun needs my assistance.”

He dug his nails into L’s sleeves, stinging him but only hardening his resolve, “I don't need your—! How dare you force me into the investigation again?! After everything you and the Task Force did—!”

“I told Light-kun he won't be forced to do anything! If he wants nothing to do with me, then he can say so!” L was beginning to become as irrational as the man clutching onto him. Emotions were running high for the two of them, desperate puffs of air shared between their faces. 

Light’s eyes were shining with a wet rage, “S-Shut the fuck up! You and I both know that's a lie! If you aren’t trying to pressure me, then why didn't you just let an ICPO member, or hell, even the warden tell me what was happening?! No, you're here because you've missed your favorite toy, huh?!”

The prisoner was right on the first part, L did come personally as a way to coerce Light into swaying on going with the detective, but he didn't do it for reasons as nefarious as what the brunette was suggesting. He did it to pay back for what he’d done, to hopefully repair the lives he ruined, and perhaps if Light would let him, see if they could continue where things they left off between them…When the world was just a wall of monitors, the clamor of typing, hands held in secrecy, and a queen-sized bed.

It was wishful thinking, but L had to try, didn't he? 

L had checked out once Light’s speech had turned to nothing but expletives. He knew this approach to the situation wouldn't convince the inmate anymore, so he decided to play on the less sympathetic side of Light. The side that convinced L he was Kira from the beginning. 

“I understand that Light-kun doesn't want to go back, and he has every right to, however, he must understand that there is an egotistical, self-righteous serial killer who kills people by simply writing their name down on the loose. Additionally, the murderer, who claims to stand for justice, had consciously framed Light-kun, an innocent, to take the fall for their deeds for five years. Even worse, they think they can come back as if nothing happened.”

Light was silent now, his head tilted downwards in dark contemplation. It was clear he knew what L was trying to accomplish, judging by the angry yet resigned scowl on his lips. He was playing into his hands by listening, but it didn’t seem the inmate wanted to stop.

“Doesn’t Light-kun want to bring them to justice? No strings attached?”

From underneath the curtain of brown hair, a menacing smirk emerged on Light’s face. L saw it and instantly knew what it meant. The prisoner was starving for retribution.

The game was afoot once more.

『••✎••』

L felt Watari’s hand placed on his shoulder, breaking him out of his trance, and he looked up. His mentor’s face, dragged down by age, was further sunken by the frown present. “Watari, is something the matter?”

Watari gazed at him with sympathy, “L, do you understand what you’re getting yourself into?” 

“What do you mean, Watari?” L hoped he wasn’t going to be a victim of another lecture, the elder seemed to be fond of them lately. 

“I’m trying to say that this isn’t going to be a walk in the park, you’re deciding to shoulder a burden that will deliver you heartache, are you ready for that?” 

The detective understood that his mentor was only trying to be kind, but it was getting tiring to hear the same scolding over and over again. It’s always, “You can’t force forgiveness” and “It will hold unnecessary strife you’re not prepared for” or something like that. Seriously, how old does Watari think he is? He understood the issues his decision and, by extension, Light’s decision would introduce. Things were already difficult to shoulder when L thought it was best for Light to be thrown in prison, it would not improve now that everyone knows his deduction was wrong. Regardless of whether or not L brought Light back to the Task Force, the situation had already turned for the worst. If anything, this new responsibility would improve things. ‘God, it’s going to be a nightmare once the Task Force is reassembled.’ He couldn’t help but bemoan to himself. 

Now that he thought about it, why did Watari think it was appropriate to discuss this right now? Light was sitting right in front of them and—

The elder, as if sensing his thoughts, chuckled and nudged his head forward. L glanced in the direction in front of them to the seat across. 

Light was sleeping like a baby, a deep rest brought upon by what appeared to be a food coma. The takeout containers from the Japanese restaurant, (well, as close to Japanese as a Los Angeles restaurant could get), laid empty on the tray table in front of him. He rested in a fetal position facing L, cheek squished against the arm of the chair and hair splayed everywhere. The twilight sky outside the window, the dim lights from the bulbs of the ceiling above them, and the utter peace in Light’s expression, all made him look so beautiful. This, this was the Light that L knew. Effortlessly stunning. Gracefully tranquil. Beguiling, but without even trying. Still reeling from their interactions earlier, L was taken aback. It was so strange to see him so calm again. 

L desperately wanted to reach out, to feel the once vibrant, gingerbread hair that was silky to the touch, and test if it was as soft as he remembered. He wanted to caress his cheek and find out if the skin remained smooth and supple. He wanted to run his fingers along the younger man’s lips, see if they were still luscious—he just wanted so much. But he can’t do anything. He couldn’t do any of those things with Watari standing right behind him. Furthermore, he shouldn’t attempt touching Light in that way while he was asleep. He lost that privilege long ago. 

It ached in a way that nothing ever had before. It was like there was a gap somewhere in L’s chest and brain that left him floundering for a missing piece. Every action L took felt so hollow when it wasn't connected to Light. The detective experienced that unimaginable emptiness for years but it hadn't felt as potent as it did now. Now, where Light looks like he did before but L still couldn't touch him.  

He wished he could speed up the process, that he could press a button, and all of a sudden things were fixed between him and Light. But reality didn't work that way. Truthfully, it pissed L off that life didn't work as simply as a computer did. Maybe Watari had a point in reminding him constantly of the strenuous situation he found himself in because L might’ve messed things up worse if he hadn't heard it again and again. Genuine connections between humans weren't his forte, which was intentional, the detective didn't usually care for such things. 

‘It seems Light-kun is my exception,’ L broke his gaze away from the brunette, ‘as usual.’  

Watari must've caught L dipping back into his melodrama, because he tapped him on the shoulder after a few minutes, “Do you think I should move him to the couch? I have a feeling he'd be much more comfortable there.” 

The detective was only half-listening, he turned his eyes to the window, “Yes, go ahead.”

This was going to be an exhausting flight. Unfortunately, things were only going to get more difficult from now on. There was still the Kira Task Force to deal with.

Chapter Text

Sunlight beamed onto his back from the partial opening of the curtains behind him, warming him faintly and shining light into the room. On the bed, Light stared at a sight he wasn't expecting to see that morning. His body’s internal clock awakened him at the right time, which was 7 AM, so the current deviation from routine was a little startling. On any normal day, L would be typing away or eating beside him, loud and awake. If Light knew that wasn't going to be the case today, then he would have brought a camera. 

In front of him was L, sleeping. Knotted, black hair somehow looked even messier, there was a slight drool from his lips, his legs were kicking around at Light’s, and he made indiscernible mumbles that could only hint at whatever was happening inside his clever mind. All in all, he looked like a mess. However, it was a mess that came across as charming to Light. Even the untouchable L can look adorable. 

Of course, Light didn't mean that in a weird way. When he says adorable, he means it in the way you would describe a soggy, homeless cat. Unnerving to look at, maybe a little sad, but so cute you can't help but want to take off your jacket and bundle it up to bring home. Yup, no other way than that. 

…He didn't mean the jacket part weirdly either.

As annoying as the endless kicking was, Light couldn't bring himself to stop it. He kept staring at L’s face, and its utter inactivity. While the detective didn't usually express himself outwardly, he always had intense, piercing eyes 24/7. Useful for unnerving the Task Force into submission, but not very inviting to his roommate. Especially since that onyx gaze is usually turned on him with accusations on a barbed tongue, (Not that it isn't any fun–Light took great pleasure in their rivalry, despite his actual innocence concerning the Kira Case). So, to see his face removed from all of its sharp edges, L seemed…soft, for lack of a better word.

Tranquil, at peace, and completely relaxed, could work too. Such a guarded man looked uncanny to be so rested. The sight was endearing, but he didn't know how else to feel about it. His face felt hot, and his heart was thumping a little too loudly, but Light was positive that was only because he was afraid of what would happen if he got caught staring. 

Light was still confused, though. How come L was sleeping? Had he crashed just now or did he plan on resting tonight? Light imagined that L only went to bed once he was asleep and always woke up before him so that the brunette couldn't “slaughter him while he was unconscious” or something. Granted, the younger man only hoped that was the case because the idea of L deciding not to sleep for several nights in a row until he dropped was deeply concerning. Seeing the charcoal bags under his eyes was bad enough, but thinking about where they came from was even worse. 

Knocking himself out of his sleepy thoughts, Light thought about it for a little longer. Sometimes, he would have nightmares and find himself waking up at some ungodly hour of the night, and L would still be awake on his laptop. Sighing to himself, Light realized that L must be doing what we hoped wasn't the case, the previously mentioned “working ‘till he drops”. Oh well, maybe the teen could enforce some bedtime rules, if only he could just get Watari on his side…

Without even realizing it, Light had dramatically gotten closer to L’s face. He must have been subconsciously doing it while he was thinking. The morning air was really awkward now. Light could feel L’s breath fanning over his face and see the pores on his skin. It was bizarre to be so close to the detective while he was defenseless. Light would feel like a creep if he didn't think it was justified to infringe on his personal space after the lack of privacy L had given him lately. It had only been two weeks since the two were chained together, and Light already felt like he was going crazy. 

L suddenly snorted loudly in his sleep, jumpscaring Light, and making him shoot up from his previous position rapidly. In good time too, seeing as L was starting to open his eyes and blink a few times in what looked to be confusion. Sighing to himself, Light’s chain mate looked disappointed as he sat up, half-asleep.

“Aw, I was trying to break my record…”

『••✎••』

L observed silently as Light’s face twitched into consciousness. A familiar, cinnamon gaze slowly emerged from under their tired eyelids and a fringe of hair. Groggily, the brunette’s eyes connected with L’s, targeting him apathetically. He frowned, “What do you want, L?”

His face only was a few inches separate from Light’s as he crouched next to the couch, “Light-kun should know that it's currently 1:04 AM and we will be landing in less than an hour. I was about to wake him up to tell him that.” 

Light sighed in resignation while shoving L’s face aside and sat up, “Right, and that's why you were watching me while I was sleeping.” 

“I was having trouble deciding how to wake Light-kun up. I considered yelling in his ear, poking his nose, or giving him a wet willie.”

“...Remind me never to sleep around you again.”

“Duly noted.”

They both looked up at hearing Watari’s voice over the private jet’s radio, “Gentlemen, we should be arriving in Tokyo soon at 1:30. Remember to buckle up properly when we are landing.”

“You knew Watari was going to be saying that over the intercom, which would have woken me up just fine, what’s the real reason you’re bothering me?” Light crossed his arms in a sassy irritation. 

L sighed, taking a second to cuss out Watari in his mind, “In truth, I’ve come here to discuss the ICPO’s compensations.”

Light smirked, “I was wondering when you’d finally bring it up, it was obvious the ICPO would want to give me some “hush money” after setting me free. Apologies aren’t enough to stop me from running my lips to everyone about my unjust imprisonment.” He finished off with a mischievous giggle. 

“Glad to know Light-kun’s shrewdness had not deteriorated in his time at the penitentiary.” 

“Very smooth, L, now, I believe we were talking about compensation?” Light’s smug, little smirk turned into a mocking grin. “Hand it over.” 

L rolled his eyes and pulled a check out of his jeans pocket, “All governments affiliated with the ICPO pitched in the funds for reparations, and while the years Light-kun served were minimal compared to most wrongful convictions, they provided him with an extravagant allowance due to the sensitive details of the Kira Case and my involvement.” The brunette snatched it out of L’s palm. 

A few minutes passed of Light ruminating over the check as he read it. The younger man had it pinched his fingers before creasing it and then repetitively smoothing it over. L watched with rapt interest, he wondered if he would figure it out. 

“37,577,115 yen? That’s a peculiar number, and why is it in yen if several different countries of the ICPO pitched in? Surely, you’d expect it to be in U.S. dollars…” Light mumbled to himself quietly. He looked up and their eyes met, L was still hunched over him. 

As if finding the answer there, Light gritted his teeth in irritation, “Seriously, L? Another way to manipulate me into going to Japan?!”

Now it was L’s turn to smirk, “Why must Light-kun accuse me of such things?”

The brunette practically hissed, “You converted my check into yen—! If I had refused to be a part of the Japanese Task Force, you would’ve handed this to me earlier as a subtle way of guilt-tripping me!”

“It wounds me how nefarious Light-kun thinks I am.” L suddenly pivoted away towards the cockpit to hide the grin threatening to break out on his face. 

“ Augh –get back here, jackass! I'm not finished with you yet!”

“I don't want to participate in a conversation in which I'm being vilified.”

“Yeah, well, get used to it! I mean, how do I know if you didn't steal any of my money?” L could hear the impish smile cracking on Light’s complexion.

The detective turned back around in bafflement, “What purpose would it serve me by stealing from Light-kun?” 

Light crossed his arms, leaned against the sofa, and picked at his nails, “It's not like you haven't done me dirty in the past…” It was clear even Light didn't believe his malicious accusation, “And besides, you kinda owe me some form of compensation. I mean, after all of the horrible things you did for the sake of your investigation…” 

L glanced at the check clutched in Light’s hand, bewildered, what more could Light-kun want? Material-wise, he means. The money he received was no chump change, it was about 7 times more than the average Japanese household’s annual income.

The older man was almost scared to inquire, “How can I prove my goodwill to Light-kun? Is there something he wants from me?”

“That’s a loaded question, you sure you want to ask that? You'd have to prepare for some repercussions.” He snorted in response. 

That was a good point, judging by Light’s behavior, he was subtly asking L what he thought he should give him. This could either end very well or very poorly. “I could pay you for your time on the task force and...How about a house?” 

The first answer, the brunette expected, the second one, however, was a surprise. Which was a shame, because it was the right one. “A house?”

L shrugged nonchalantly, “I’d like to demonstrate to Light-kun that I'm capable of providing him with proper, comfortable housing. It was irresponsible of me to let him exist in such a horrible facility, so he can ask me for any home he desires, no matter the price.” 

“Any house?”

“That’s what Light-kun heard.”

Light suddenly stood, jarring L in the close proximity they found themselves in, their noses almost touching, “Even if it’s stupid? Say I want a garish, golden fountain decorated with sea shells in the main hall of a mansion, will you buy me it? Or maybe I want to live in a treehouse whose size rivals a skyscraper. Will you build it, just for me?” The younger man had his hands behind his back in mischief. 

L gulped and whispered back, “I told Light-kun I’d give him anything he desires, didn't I?”

There was a moment of neither party saying anything. 

The younger man sighed wistfully, “Fortunately for you, I'm not in the mood to discuss construction, but I hope you'll keep your word. I suppose I'm going to have to study up on some architecture, eh?” It seemed Light didn't want to unpack L’s earlier statement, it felt like the two of them were having vastly different conversations. Just as quickly as he stood up, Light flopped down on the couch, smiling sadly to himself as he gazed once again at the check. 

“Light-kun seems quite cheerful today.” Or at least he did . Something in their conversation made Light not want to participate in banter anymore. L knew it had something to do with what he said, but what it was exactly the detective just couldn't grasp. 

He brushed off L’s comment, “My brain’s excited to get a change of scenery, is all. Don't worry, I'll be back to my lovely self by tomorrow.” His gaze set off to be somewhere else, somewhere L couldn't reach. 

“Gentlemen, please buckle in your seatbelts, we're landing very soon.” 

『••✎••』

On opposite sides of the limo, L and Light both buckled into their seats as Watari finished carrying the last suitcases into the trunk, most of the luggage unsurprisingly being his own. L was a very low-maintenance creature, (unless you count his dessert intake, then his food costs topple both men present), he had only 5 versions of the same outfit, used 3 in 1 soap for showering, never brushed his hair, didn’t sleep if he could help it, and sometimes shaved when Watari reminded him to. Some might say he was a hot mess, but he liked to refer to it as cost-beneficial. Therefore, he only had one duffel bag of his personal effects. 

Light similarly had limited luggage. He held no possession of any items besides the clothes on his back and the frown on his face, which was expected, seeing as he was in prison. Although, the scowl did seem to be sunken even further than usual as he stared at an invisible object of hatred. 

“Light-kun looks upset.” 

An agitated sigh was his response.

“We’ll be entering the city soon, does Light-kun want me to roll down a window for him?”

The body across from him shifted to face the glass behind him with a noncommittal blink, turning his back to L in silent answer. 

The detective leaned forward and pressed down on the window switch at Light’s side. L knew there were other windows he could have opened, but he selfishly wanted to get as close to Light as he could. He felt Light’s hot breath on his neck and his eyes touching his outside of view. The second he sat down again, a resident ache clenched L deep inside with burning. A soft gust of wind blew into the car, blowing Light’s hair softly and making the room instantly cooler.

Minutes passed of silence.

“Perhaps I should buy a car?”

“…Huh?”

“The money, maybe I could buy a car with some of it.”

L didn’t know where this came up, but he tried answering anyway, “That’s not a bad idea. What kind of car would Light-kun think of purchasing?”

“Hmm…” Light’s head craned back towards L slightly, “Maybe a sports car? Something big and flashy that purrs like a kitten when I turn on the ignition.” The detective could see a small, but playful smile emerging from under the curtain of his long, flowing hair. 

L attempted to smile back, “I didn't realize that Light-kun was into fancy cars.”

Light shifted to almost face him, “Oh, I'm not. But when you're stuck in a cell for years, you realize that there are many things you didn't realize you wanted.” 

The older man thinks he will have trouble relating to the conversation if he doesn't start driving Light’s head away from the prison. “What color would Light-kun like his car to be?”

“Red, definitely red. It's bold, eye-catching, and will make up for my severe drop in sex appeal.”

If L was drinking something, he would have dramatically choked on it in response to Light’s crass comment, “I’d argue that Light-kun is still quite handsome.”

His head launched back in a taunt, “ Ha–! L, I know I look like a cryptid, if you're going to lie about something to my face, you might want to get better material.” Ah, that self-deprecating attitude was new, Light didn't look like he was fishing for compliments, so the remark was genuine. 

Five years ago, L found Light to only pretend to be humble in his appearance when around other people. Despite his efforts, everyone knew that Light looked like a man ripped straight out of Greek mythology. Ethereal, untouchable, and practically glowing no matter the location. Light acted like he didn't see it, but L knew that was just a mask to make himself look more approachable to others. The unnecessary amount of time Light spent in the bathroom when the two lived together attested to the fact that everything about his appearance was planned to perfection. That, and the vast number of hygiene products used to maintain said image was also evident. 

“Light-kun shouldn't speak so low about himself, especially when there are less attractive people in the room.” L pouted in humor. 

“If you actually cared, then you would put effort into how you look, so don't feed me that bullshit. Besides, you're hardly that ugly.”

They had finally entered the heart of the city. Abruptly, neon colors filtered through the tinted windows of the limousine, coating the interior with splashes of vibrant reds, oranges, greens, blues, and pinks. A symphony of countless voices in conversation, cars driving by, chimes from nearby advertisements, and the distant thrum from a plane up above overflowed the room in their suddenness. Distantly, L could smell the aroma of sizzling food and smoke breach his nose. However, all other thoughts unrelated to the man in front of him were put aside.

Light’s face was utterly stunned. The younger man gaped at the bustling outside world, the striking lights outside painting his body brilliantly. Like he was haunted, the brunette pulled himself closer to the window, his head poking out farther and farther. Unlike before, when the outdoors seemed to have slowed down the song of reality for Light, the world felt like it was getting louder and louder the more he stayed in it. Transitioning from the quiet shock of earlier, Light’s demeanor slowly shifted to manic joy when he swerved his body back to L. 

“Open all the windows!”

Jumping up from his seat, L quickly followed his crazed command. He moved from switch to switch, rolling down the windows and blasting the room with simultaneous gusts of wind. His own hair was now constantly blown around and his clothes were shifted back and forth. Light looked even worse off, the length of his hair and somehow baggier clothing being further affected by the wind. 

“Look, L, look–!”

L was looking, he watched as Light rushed from window to window, sticking out his head from each one further than the last. His open smile was filled with mania as quiet, but breathless laughter left his lungs. “It's home, L, it's home! Don't you see?!”

The detective couldn't help the awkward smile from breaking out on his lips. From an outside perspective, he must’ve looked stupid hunched in the middle of the limo staring at Light with what he knew could be called an utterly besotted expression on his face. There was no stopping it, however, when L realized that even in his craze, Light’s presence was still as gripping as ever. His heart now burned with fondness. 

“Yes, Light-kun, it is home.” He quietly said.

Nothing was going to stop him from fixing things. With this scene forever in his head, L would do what he can to return things back to normal. The snapshot of Light’s careless smile would ring in head forever as an echo of the joy the brunette used to feel before things went awry. 

But maybe the smile should’ve rung as too careless, because seconds later, Light’s frame exited his view with inhuman speed. Without warning, the car door in the back was thrust open and Light looked like he was about to lunge out at any second. Blinking from his sappy thoughts, L rushed over as quickly as he could and tried to yank the younger man’s body from the door.

“Are you insane—?!”

Light didn’t even look like he noticed the detective, his gaze staying outside the door to the city. “Let me see…J-Just for a second…” His body seemed to be fixed on that one spot. 

“L-Light-kun can look later, preferably not when he’s about to jump out of a moving vehicle!” With one last pull, L managed to jerk the brunette away and hastily shut the door, hitting his head on the ceiling in the process. It was strange that it took so much effort in the first place, the man hardly weighed anything. 

Minutes later, Light finally noticed him as they both lay on the floor, “Hehe…” 

L crooked his eyebrow irritably, still slightly panting from earlier, “What’s so funny to Light-kun?”

“I just realized something, what do I need a car for?! I don’t have a driver’s license! Haha—!”

L could only groan and faceplant on the elongated seats as Light choked on his laughter. 

『••✎••』

“Ugh, I don’t want to be here again…”

“Unfortunately for Light-kun, it’s the most effective residence for the investigation, so I suppose he’ll just have to suck it up.” While things have calmed down, L was still tense from the earlier encounter. All he wanted now was to eat some ice cream. 

Light grumbled as he stepped out of the vehicle inside the building’s parking lot, “I’ve been ‘sucking up’ shitty prison life for five years, Ryuzaki, I’m sick and tired of it. Got a problem I feel better about complaining?” What a pain, even when L’s justifiably upset, the younger man still makes him feel bad for it. 

Watari walked in front of the two as he inputted the safety codes and bypassed the security systems. The elder carried L’s duffel bag, leaving his own luggage inside the limo for picking up later. L murmured, “Light-kun doesn’t have to bring up the prison constantly…”

In front of him, Watari coughed loudly in interjection as Light snapped his head to the detective and bit back, “Oh sorry , Ryuzaki, I'll do my best to try and forget about the whole thing for your sake, ‘kay?” The older man pouted and turned his head away in guilt, he knew he shouldn't have made that comment, but he did anyway for the sake of being petty. That's something to work on as of now.

Light tripped L on their way up the staircase, making L immediately decide that it was instead something to fix tomorrow as he licked his finger and jammed it into the brunette’s ear in retaliation. ”Gah–! Ryuzaki, you're so disgusting!” Light screeched, L snickered haughtily, “An eye for an eye, Light-kun, I've said this before, haven't I?” Bickering along the way, the men started making progress up the floors through the stairwells, only faltering in speed when it looked like Light was having trouble keeping up. By the end of it, the younger man looked ready to punch him before someone interrupted them with a polite hack.

“Gentlemen, here are your rooms.” Watari gestured to two doors on opposite sides of the hallway.

The brunette looked around in confusion, “This is a different floor than last time.” 

The detective and his mentor met eyes briefly, seconds later, L answered, “We figured it was good to have a change of pace, spice things up a little.”

“Oh…” The younger man looked lost, “Which one is mine?”

Watari gestured to one of the doors and handed Light the key card for it, “I'll be taking orders for breakfast every morning from 6 to 8 AM, my number is on the list of contacts located on the bedside drawer. If you have any needs, I'm just a call away. I have placed your preferred items of toiletries and clothing inside prior to your arrival. Also, try not to make too much noise at night, we have other people sleeping in the rooms above and below this floor.” 

Light startled slightly, “Other people–?” 

“They're just some people I hired for the investigation, Light-kun will see them tomorrow.” L interceded quickly to prevent another sore engagement.

Light gently took the card from his mentor’s hands, quietly made his way to the door, opened it, and kept his back to the other men the entire time. “...The task force, what about them? Are they here too?”

L shook his head even though the younger man couldn't see it, “No, they denied the choice when it was offered, however, all members of the Kira Task Force from five years ago were adamant about returning to the case. They'll be here tomorrow at 9 AM.”

It almost felt like the conversation was over, until—

“And what of Soichiro Yagami? Should I expect him as well?”

“...Yes, he also insisted on returning to the investigation.”

Light’s head tilted downwards as he let out a quiet, sardonic chuckle, “Of course, what else did I expect…?”

Wartari, as usual, started making his way out of the hallway once he realized things were getting tense. L watched with despondence as he left. He sighed and turned his head to the man in front of him, who had already opened his door. 

“Does Light-kun want to–”

The door clicked shut.

“...Right.”

Chapter Text

Soichiro could only pray that the sweat emerging all over his body wasn’t noticeable, but it was a pitiful Hail Mary when you had the world’s greatest detective standing not even ten feet away from you. He was nervous, everyone knew it. His wife knew it when he left the house that morning, his daughter knew it when he accidentally woke her up checking on her room, and even the cars behind him at the stoplights knew it. He had always been a painfully honest man when he didn’t want to be.

But how could he not be anxious? 

His son, his child, his first-born, was arriving at HQ any minute now. 

Normally, the thought of Light assisting in a case would evoke a very different feeling. Pride, being the best example. However, Soichiro could only feel the tell-tale signs of vomit emerging from him. He was anxious because his son was coming for all the wrong reasons. 

A suspect being put to the test. Could you believe it? Soichiro couldn’t.

The chief had no idea where L had got the ridiculous notion that his son could be Kira. For his entire life, Light had been nothing but an upstanding student and dutiful son, the direct opposite of the kind of person capable of mass murder. The very thought of Light being near such crimes made Soichiro’s stomach drop in ways it never had before. He was so lost on what led to such suspicions, sure there were some coincidences here and there, but that’s all they were, coincidences.

His eyes from behind their frames twitched over to the detective in question, unable to figure him out no matter how hard they stared. 

Everything was going to be fine, L would see that Light didn’t know anything, and then his son could go home happy and safe—

The doorbell rang.

The hotel room door opened before he had any time to process the noise.

His son stepped into the room.

L stood up and shook his hand.

Soichiro couldn’t breathe.

His child, grown and yet still so young, smiled at the detective as he introduced himself for what was definitely not the first time. His demeanor was completely neutral, maybe even a little coy, as he bantered with the man in front of him as if it were as easy as breathing. Their energies bounced off each other like life-long friends. It almost seemed as if Light had been there the whole time, he blended into the room better than any painting could, slotting into place like a puzzle finally finished. Even the team themselves looked more reassured, their shared anxiety with the chief dissipating as they witnessed the collected countenance of their lead suspect. 

While his father was panicking, Light was as cool as a cucumber. 

L guided his son towards their workspace at the hotel’s table and Light’s eyes caught his own. The young man softly smiled, the warm crinkle in his eyes showing itself as it always had since he was a toddler babbling throughout the house. It poured an ointment on the nervous, sweaty heat of Soichiro’s body, and he could finally feel himself breathe. 

Light wasn’t nervous, so he shouldn’t be either.

Everything was going to be fine.

『••✎••』

L smacked his lips once, twice. He could taste the musty morning breath that held a tint of the expired gummy worms he had eaten last night. At least, he’s pretty sure they were expired. He found them stuffed in one of the folds of his duffel bag among other treats he forgot he packed. L only really dug into his stashes if he was too cranky to call for Watari, so he had no actual idea of how old those previously mentioned gummies were, but, he supposes he'd be able to tell later in the day if his stomach decided to kick back. 

The detective decided to shift his gaze away from the blaring light of his computer screen and could tell dawn was getting ready to move in. His empty room, white noise being the only toll, could use the company. Watari must've turned the thermostat down because it felt unusually cold in the area. Stepping out from his crouch, feeling the cold carpet with his toes, L could hear the faint creaks of his protesting back. He shuffled quietly around the room, haphazardly throwing his clothes and toiletries into a pile to prepare for his shower. 

Fun fact about L, he didn't always take showers in the morning. 

When life was simpler, L usually bathed himself whenever it was convenient. Many days, he forgot to do even that because he became so fixated on a certain case or was bombarded by several to maintain the top 3 titles of World’s Greatest Detective. Occasionally, Watari would have enough and cram his body into the human washing machine he built for him (which, yes, he’s aware is weird) when the ridiculous lack of hygiene was too much to bear.

But after…But after living with Light, who maintained a daily schedule so anal it was almost neurotic, he couldn't help but have to adjust to some changes. One of those is daily showers, which brings him here. 

Scrubbing at his hair, sensing dead skin uncomfortably collecting under his nails, and pressing his body against the corner, L still felt that the hot shower could be warmer. There’s no jangle of the chain, no piercing aromas of bergamot orange or sometimes eucalyptus, and no hands shampooing his locks better than he ever could. It was all so empty. It felt empty when he returned to Wammy’s, but in a tolerable way because of its change of scenery. Now that he’s back here, at headquarters, where it all began, the crippling feeling of wrongness hits L like a semi-truck. 

He palms at the tiled walls and tries to grip them, only for his hand to slip on the wet surface each time. It escapes him over and over again. L needs patience, he needs to breathe, things will be fine, as long as he makes it so. It didn't matter that when he stepped out of the shower his hair turned into icicles against his face. It didn't matter that the second L could feel the cold air hit his skin he rushed to wrap a towel around his body like he was on fire. And finally, it didn't matter that none of the goosebumps on his flesh ever truly left regardless of how hard he rubbed at them. 

Walking outside of his room, the detective glanced over at Light’s door. The young man was no doubt already downstairs, showing him up like he always did. ‘ But then again,’ L thought with a shiver, ‘ it is my fault for not getting ready quickly enough.’ The very idea of the hermit being late to something because he was too busy bathing sounded ridiculous. That was usually Light’s job. It wasn’t L’s problem that the brunette’s morning routine didn't coexist well with his, maybe now Light will get to the debriefing early like he always wanted. L didn't know how long he stood there, staring at a closed door, but he moved once the icy floor was giving him cold feet. 

When L stepped down the sleek staircase to the main workroom, he was once again used to the aching chill.

“Yo, Ryuzaki!” A gloved hand waved from the couch near the opposite stairwell, its owner not bothering to turn his head to the newest occupant of the office. Sitting down as if he lives there, Matt’s boots are branched out on the table, his neck cranked as he plays on his gaming console, and he is all cuddled up with Mello who sat so close to him he might as well have been sitting on the teen’s lap. Speaking of the spitfire, whose head swiveled so quickly to L he swore he could've heard it crack, he sat with his arms crossed and legs similarly positioned to Matt’s but with a sassier nature. Mello’s stabbing, sapphire gaze deadlocked onto the detective and immediately made his presence known, “Christ, did you slip in the shower?! We've been waiting for over an hour!”

“It's only been 45 minutes and 13 seconds, Mello.” A monotone voice quietly interjected. Because the boy was so silent, the detective almost didn't see him, which was odd, considering his pale complexion and white pajamas completely contrasted with the black tiled floors and blue walls. Looking over to the opposite side of the table, L could make out the gleam of fluffy, white hair as Near sat on the floor, no doubt playing with some toys. 

As if to battle with Near’s demeanor, Mello shot out of his seat like a rocket, “No one asked you, sheep! My point still stands,” the blonde turned back to L, “What the hell took you so long?” 

Tugging on Mello’s wrist, Matt still had yet to look away from his game, “Chill out, dude, it's our first day. I'm pretty sure he’s allowed to be late after the bell rings.” The detective genuinely couldn't tell if that remark was to jab at him, Mello, or if it was just Matt being himself. 

Before L could find out, another voice decided to pitch in hesitantly, “Uhm, Ryuzaki? Where's Yagami-kun?” It was Matsuda. 

Near the main monitors was the not-so-former Kira Task Force, all standing in varied poses of tension and apprehension. They looked like they were trying to be still, but the tell-tale tapping of shoes and constant rearranging of arms gave them away. One man didn't bother trying to hide his stress. Soicihiro Yagami was pacing back and forth in front of the opposite stairway, muttering to himself quietly and messing around with his face to adjust his glasses, straighten his mustache, and put his hand under his chin. He was only 54, yet the gray strands overtaking his black hair and frown wrinkles made him look so much older. After hearing Matsuda’s question and L’s lack of response, Soichrio finally stopped moving to peer up with trepidation. 

The detective decided to respond, “If he hasn't come down yet, then he's probably still changing.” 

“‘Probably’? So, you have no idea?!” That explosive anger was familiar, at least Aizawa didn't change. Or maybe he should have, seeing as it was usually directed at L. 

Ide, who L completely forgot he gave the okay to join the investigation, set his hand on Aizawa’s shoulder to settle him down. “Calm down, Shuichi, it's not like they live together, how would he know?” 

Leave it to the new guy to make the room even tenser. Everyone who knew the irony of that statement shuffled some part of their body in discomfort. 

Aizawa exhaled impatiently, “I know, you're right, I guess I'm just a little…” The unspoken words everyone felt were left hanging in the air. 

Matsuda chose to speak again, “Maybe he's just getting used to things, y’know? I can't imagine how different things are for him now that he's not in prison.”

That didn't make anyone feel better. 

“Well, if I were him, I’d be busy stuffing my mouth with Watari’s breakfast munchies before concerning myself with any of you assholes.” Matt waved his hand flippantly toward everyone else in the room. Mello scoffed, “Seriously? Munchies? ” Finally, the gamer decided to look away from his device in mock offense, “Uh, yeah? That word fuckin’ rocks, Mells.” 

Near mumbled to himself not-so-quietly, “Make that 49 minutes…” 

A beep emerged from one of the monitors, “Ryuzaki? I believe it's important that I inform you that Yagami-kun has yet to ask me for anything to eat. I do not believe he's left his room yet, someone should go check on him.”

Their youngest officer perked up, “I'll do it–” “It's best if I do it, Watari. I'll be back soon, everyone, make yourself useful.” L did not want to give Light any surprises if the reason he's yet to arrive isn't pleasant. Besides, the detective thinks his mentor was trying to hint at him doing it anyway. L briskly went back up the stairs, worry nipping at his feet.

The room went quiet as their boss left, all waiting with bated breath. 

Matsuda piped up to break the silence, “U-Um, he didn't give us anything to do…?” 

『••✎••』

L inhaled and exhaled, reminding himself to maintain caution and patience before entering the room. His hand was held halfway between his torso and the door, it slightly shook with indecisiveness. Steeling himself and remembering that Light was not a wild animal and that he was being absurd, L knocked as politely as he could. 

Knock, knock.

…

Nothing.

The worst thoughts immediately came to mind. His ex-suspect wasn't in a very good headspace. Should he have put Light on a suicide watch? Murder watch? That was also plausible. Did he order a pizza without L or Watari knowing and then kill the innocent delivery guy? Is L going to open the door and find a dead body covered in pizza toppings? Knowing Light, the body was probably disposed of by now. Assuming the worst, the detective used his ‘skeleton’ card and whipped open the door. 

There was still nothing. 

Stepping inside, L glanced around, searching for a dead body with either brown hair or a uniform cap. Seeing nothing out of order, the detective walked out of the living room and into the bedroom. Finally, there were some things to work with. The blankets and pillows meant for the bed were thrown messily around, and the mattress itself was off-kilter. If L didn't know that Light was alone in his room, he would've assumed that he just caught the aftermath of a really bad fight. That, or perhaps the results of some rough… activities.  

Blegh , he thinks he prefers the pizza murder now. 

The light to the bathroom was on, and the door was slightly ajar. 

He hears something, quiet whimpers. 

Moving slowly to the bathroom, L stuck his hand inside and pushed the door further. 

Trembling, curled in on himself on the ground, his back against the corner near the tub, and as naked as he was the day he was born, was Light.

“...That’s me…?”

Light was whispering, his hand over his mouth in terrified shock. He appeared even paler than before. L, confused, tried looking to where Light’s horrified gaze was set. Glimpsing to his left, L could see the mirror where it was placed above the sink, shining innocently. Its gleam is as perfectly non-threatening as any inanimate object should be. ‘ Oh, I see.’ L understood what the issue was now. He was going to have to be candid in handling this.

“Yes, Light-kun, it was you.”

Jumping, Light’s eyes twitched over to where L stood, “W-What?”

Keeping his head down, L slowly walked along the wall to reach where Light was. “I’m guessing that the facility didn't allow Light-kun to see his reflection.”

He shook his head, gaze now completely caught on L’s movements. This was promising, he was distracted from his appearance. L now met his eyes, towering over Light as he leaned on the wall next to him. “Light-kun shouldn't worry so much about the way he looks.” 

“...I-I knew it was b-bad…but I didn't expect–I never thought that…” He whimpered and tried covering it up by crushing his hand further over his lips. L sighed and kneeled down next to him. “May I touch Light-kun?”

“ No–!” The younger man flinched away and tucked his head underneath his arms in panic, trying to make himself as small as possible. “G-Get away from me, you bastard.” 

L let the man keep his space and put his hands up as a sign of peace. “I just want to move Light-kun’s hands, is that okay?” 

Light cried out from under his hair, “Go away! Leave me alone–!”  

“I swear that it'll be the only part of Light-kun’s body I’ll touch. I promise.” 

“S-So, what?! You think I'll believe you because of some half-assed oath?!”

“Light-kun,” He spoke to him with as much sincerity as he could muster, “please.”  

The detective let his proposal settle for a few minutes. The brunette rocked himself back and forth, once, twice, three times. He seemed to be considering L’s offer in his hysteria. “You pro-promise?” The question was as shaky as he was. 

Hoping to appear as genuine as he felt, L nodded, “Yes, I promise.” He usually hated repeating himself, but this was the exception. “You can even watch me, I won't do anything without your permission.” 

Taking his word for it, Light languidly nodded back. He slowly lifted his head and stared down at the detective’s moving hands from over his arms. Being as slow and deliberate as he could, L grabbed Light’s hands and gently pulled them off of his knees, revealing the brunette’s blotchy–but not yet wet–face. He stacked Light’s palms on top of his left hand, and caressed them lightly, making sure that the younger man could see their limbs in full view. Maintaining his gaze on Light’s face, L spoke, “What was Light-kun trying to do?”

The brunette coughed, a little embarrassed, “I-I was trying to take a shower.” 

L had noted the towel on the toilet seat earlier, “I see.” 

Flushing slightly and finally getting some color back, Light punctured the detective with his eyes, “Can you s-stop looking at me like that?!” At least the younger man was back in the moment, holding his hands was helping to ground him. 

“I apologize, Light-kun.” He looked away. But not really. Truth be told, he kept his vision away only until Light stopped looking at his face and back to their hands, satisfied. Once that was done, L turned his view back to solely the person in front of him. 

It was…well in a short summary, it was awful. 

In a long summary, L became witness to a myriad of scars, bruises, and even more disturbing, faint bite marks all over Light’s skin. It was disgusting to think of every single different implication behind each wound, L wanted to observe them like he would anyone else on a case file or autopsy report, but this was Light. Someone who he knew never had injuries like these before, someone who he knew had soft, flawless skin in the past, and someone he knew hated them far more than L ever could. He wished he could ignore them, but on Light’s pale skin, they stood out like bright, red flags. Unable to be forgotten. 

L must've made his discomfort too obvious because Light’s voice soon cried out, “What did I just say?! T-That’s not–you’re not helping–!”

L broke his gaze away from Light’s body, “Light-kun wants me to help?”

“N-No! But if you're here anyway, doing this–” the brunette said, gesturing at their hands, “then you might as well, okay?”

He was still reeling from earlier, but L tried to respond pleasantly, “Of course, what does Light-kun want me to do?”

“...First off, you could turn on the shower for me…” He grumbled.

“Alright,” L stood and made his way to the shower next to the bathtub, reaching for the shower handle, “lukewarm, as usual?” Light didn’t respond, but he already knew the answer. The water sprayed down loudly, not too hot, and not too cold, perfect for hair maintenance. 

L wiped off his sweaty hands on his jeans, his unease getting to him. “What’s next?”

“…Clothes, I forgot to grab them.” 

L ambled out of the bathroom, “Light-kun was very excited to bathe, wasn’t he?” After closing the door, he dug through the closet, noticing that all the clothing items inside still had their tags from wherever Watari bought them. Most of them were just copies of Light’s old clothes, while others were hand-picked by L himself. He thought the gesture would be appreciated, but his efforts might have been pushed in the wrong direction. It was strange to figuratively tiptoe around Light, who used to be the only person in the world he never had to treat as such. Back then, they danced around each other, sometimes with no masks, sometimes with several. It was special. L didn't want to say he was disappointed, because that would imply he expected Light to have never changed, but he has to admit that nostalgia gave him higher hopes. 

Pushing those thoughts out of his mind and into a safe, L snagged some garments that he thinks look acceptable and tiptoed back. 

Light remained sitting on the floor, still bare, but more composed. His skin was pinker from the heat and steam collecting in the bathroom. His shoulders and kneecaps shone with a rosy hue in a detail L noticed that could only mean he'd been staring for too long. The mirror was now foggy, every tiled surface a little moist, and L already could feel a sweat coming on. “What else?” He asked, trying to be heard over the patter of the shower. 

“I'll shower now, o-obviously.” 

The younger man made no attempt to move. 

“...And when is now, Light-kun?” 

“Argh–! I'll get there when I get there!” Stubbornly, the brunette slammed his hands onto the floor and tried to push his body up, only for his knees to buckle at the last minute and make him fall back onto his bum. “J-Just give me a sec!” It was a depressing view L couldn't help but watch, like a car crash. 

Flopping over a few times, his legs uncooperative, Light started to look like he was becoming hysterical again. He cried out on his last attempt, pounding his fist to the wall behind him in frustration. His brows were pinched and he clenched his teeth so hard that sooner or later they would crack like glass. L returned to Light’s side.

“Is there something wrong?” L questioned.

His breathing grew panicked, “I-I can’t move my-my legs!” 

Looking down, there didn't seem to be anything currently wrong with them. Besides the splashes of red and purple scabs and bruises, nothing appeared to be hindering the brunette’s movement. Was this a mental barrier? “Light-kun needs to calm down.” 

“Hah-How?! I can’t get up–!” If something wasn't done now, he was going to start hyperventilating, which would bring a whole lot more issues L didn't have the capacity to treat properly without crying to Watari for help. 

L kept his voice down, “Shhh, if Light-kun will let me, I'll help him up and guide him to the shower. Is that okay?” 

Like before, Light pierced the detective with a hostility unique to his cinnamon eyes,  “I don't want your disgusting hands touching me!” The brunette backed away, holding himself tightly as if to maintain some form of modesty. His knees pressed together roughly in a hard smack that would leave a nasty bruise later, as if Light needed more on him. It was unsettling trying to avoid mentioning the violent streaks that appeared in a plethora of vibrant colors. 

“I'm sorry, Light-kun, but there’s no time to wait, we must move quickly if we want to catch Kira.” It was awful to use that incentive again, like pretending to toss a dog a bone. However, it was effective. At least, that's what L thought was happening.

The anger deflated from Light, he hung his head feebly, and his voice gave off an aura of quicksand, sinking endlessly, “N-No, please…don’t touch me…”

God , this was so hard to get through. “Can Light-kun look at me, please?”

The younger man was shaking uncontrollably, but he made an effort to peer up. It was a testament to Light’s strength that he maintained a sense of control even under his near-inconsolable state. That, or he distrusted L so much that he refused to be more vulnerable than he already was in front of him. The detective wanted to say it was the first speculation that was the case, even though deep down he knew the second stepped closer to the truth if it already wasn't. 

“When I held Light-kun’s hands earlier, did I do anything besides that?” L continued.

The brunette shook his head, “No, but, a-as if I'm going to trust you–”

“I'm not asking for Light-kun’s trust, I'm asking for his logic. If my commitment to Light-kun’s comfort was under siege, wouldn't have I stepped over his lines earlier? It's understandable not to believe in me, but my current actions can be counted on.” 

The room was steaming even more. If the mirror was foggy before, it was a cloud now. L could feel sweat coming to collect on his brow and hands. His face and ears felt hot like he was under the morning sun. Which, now under consideration, didn't make sense. L put the water temperature as lukewarm , didn't he? Taking a brief glimpse over to the dial, the detective took notice of its leaning on the red side. Did he mess up when rotating it? He remembered trying to be careful, but he wouldn't put it past himself to have slipped with how sweaty his hands were earlier. Not to mention how distractedly tense he was before. 

“I…” Debates were flying through Light’s eyes, his awareness coming back closer and closer, he took a breath, “O-Okay, but please , be slow…” 

A sad smile emerged on his face, “Of course, Light-kun.” 

Moving in a way that Light could view all the motions of his limbs, L placed his arms under the brunette’s shoulders, doing his best to keep his chest away from Light’s so as to not overwhelm him, and hoisted him up as gently as possible. It still was too fast. Scrambling slightly with his uncooperative legs, Light nearly slid into L. Suddenly, the younger man’s arms clawed onto L’s back in desperation to maintain balance. The detective winced as the nails dug into his skin through his shirt but made no noise. 

He grunted, “I-Is Light-kun okay?”

Trembling in his arms, he responded quietly, “..Mhm…” Light clutched onto him closer, moving up his body further against L’s. 

“That's good. I'm going to move now, alright?” He felt a nod against his neck. 

The hot breath on his neck set his whole body on fire. Flames licked at every part that L was in contact with Light. If he thought the room was warm earlier, it suddenly was volcanic now. L sensed that every expanse of his skin was flushed with a red-hot fire he only dreamed he could experience again. Light, tucked against his body, was a hearth that set his core ablaze. Trying to cool down, but hoping this warmth never went away, L took deep breaths in and out. He stepped forward a few centimeters and felt Light feebly follow along with him. 

L wanted to give the younger man his space, but when touching him felt this good, he just couldn't stop himself. If he didn't know any better, L would've held him tighter and never let go. However, he did his best to maintain his promise as the two of them moved gradually to the shower. 

L could slowly feel one of his hands slip further down Light’s back, the perspiration being the only reason he wanted to believe why. While one hand remained under Light’s shoulders and branched across his lats, the other now cupped the spine of his waist. The detective felt ashamed he enjoyed it so much when it was borderline stepping on their agreement. 

He stopped enjoying it once his palm touched telltale indentations of scars. 

Reaching the glass door of the shower, L shuffled Light inside, but not without getting himself slightly wet from the stream of warm water. Stumbling awkwardly, the younger man collided with the corner of the shower. Once he was lying against it, Light let out a quiet sigh of relief. L tried not to feel hurt by the other man’s blatant ease at their separation. 

The detective was reminded of his earlier mistake when he saw Light’s reddened skin. “I apologize for the heat, Light-kun, I know I said lukewarm, but–” As L was reaching for the shower knob, another hand stopped him mid-way. Tilting his head over, the detective saw Light’s gaze through his hair, which looked far away and despondent. 

Slowly moving his head to the side and up, long locks gave way to a sullen face, whose pink face contrasted with its blue countenance. His complexion bathed in the warmth like a cat to the sunlight. 

“No…No, this is fine.” It was the first time the brunette had spoken calmly during their entire interaction, “I almost forgot how…” 

Time froze in the heat for a few minutes, both men basking in the warmth in their own ways. 

However, all good things must come to an end. 

Like the sudden snap of a twig, Light’s back hunched over and he faced L with a snarl. “Get out,” he said, twisting his face with cruelty, “You got what you came for, didn't you?! Now leave–!” His teeth grit and set off sparks. The atmosphere was now volatile and L could swear he was choking on embers. Straightening himself in case things got violent and to spare his feelings, L swallowed his pride and moved out of the volcano that was the bathroom. Once he stepped out of the room, the blazing heat that burned on his skin had dissipated. 

He missed it already.

It was a couple of blinks later that L found himself walking back down the steps to the main office space, his steps counting down the time he had to come up with a valid excuse for Light’s absence. He didn’t want to disclose the private moment they shared for obvious reasons, or even make Light have any fault in general, but it had to be realistic enough that it didn’t make L look like a fool himself. His successors were in the room, after all. 

Steeling himself, the detective turned to the other occupants of the room once he reached the bottom of the staircase. Everyone’s eyes were on him, even Matt looked up from his game to glance over. Soichiro had stopped pacing, but he still looked restless once he noticed Light wasn’t with him. 

“There has been a slight miscommunication. Watari and I had told Light-kun last night to sleep off his jet lag for as long as he needed but neglected to mention the meeting time. He’ll be down in a few moments if everyone will remain patient.” 

L could hear Mello without seeing him, “Few fucking moments, you gotta be kidding me— ow! ” He was going to assume Matt cuffed the blonde’s head, rightfully so.

Near shrugged, “As long as the investigation will continue, patience is a low price.” The teen then proceeded to have his toy motorcycle crash into a plastic limousine, sound effects and all.

The task force didn’t look even slightly reassured.

『••✎••』

Time passed in an overbearing silence when they heard the tell-tale taps of shoes near the area on top of the stairwell, the noise walking at a progressively slower pace the louder it became. It didn’t miss anyone’s ears when the steps stuttered and suddenly halted at the very top of the staircase. Those close by could easily crane their heads up at the right angle to see shoes freezing in place, their gait insecure and anxious. The successors seemed curious, but those who knew who was above them immediately seized up. The task force, including L, all waited with bated breath. As if they never stopped at all, the shoes moved into the steps with a steady, purposeful stride that still hadn’t stopped echoing. 

With his hand on the wall’s rail, Light held his head up high as he walked down. His previously scruffy hair was now pulled elegantly into a ponytail, washed and brushed. It still looked dull compared to its previous shininess, but it was an improvement that nearly put L beside himself. The outfit he picked out looked great on the brunette, the green turtleneck and black jeans were sufficient to Light’s style and a perfect reflection of the past outfits he used to wear. There was something off though, and L squinted slightly to put his finger on it. 

It was obvious now that he thought about it, but the extra folds and creases framing the young man’s body were a new, unwelcome addition to his wardrobe. Even with the added belt around his waist, Light looked too small in his clothes. When L had bought the wardrobe, he didn’t think that Light would lose such a substantial amount of weight, and it was becoming his biggest regret at the moment.

Because now Light stuck out like a sore thumb, while the others might’ve seen his hair as the biggest change, L knew intimately how well Light fit into his clothes in the past, how snug the form-fitting sweaters used to be. What used to be wonder now turned into unsettlement in L’s gut. Light did his best with what he had, but his fringe didn’t completely cover the bruising on his forehead, the modest clothing didn’t hide his pale skin, and his confident head raise didn’t compensate for the gauntness of his cheeks. L felt gross to compare the Light of the past to the Light of now, it was all so unfair. 

Perhaps he should’ve given Light more time to recuperate himself, maybe held back the first meeting by a week? It was too late now, anyway.

It seemed he wasn’t the only one taken aback either.

Because once Light hit the bottom of the steps, there was a pathetic, choking noise coming from behind him. The detective wished he didn’t turn around to look, but he did anyway. 

Soichiro Yagami stood on shaking knees as he took in his firstborn with his very own eyes. The first time in 5 years. 

The chief looked like he had seen a ghost rather than a living, breathing person in front of him. L’s mind for an ugly second almost agreed with that sentiment. Time froze between the two of them, connected only by bad blood. Father and son stared at each other, no words exchanged, but a million things going unsaid. Feelings of betrayal, anxiety, sadness, and grief, all wafted in the air and suffocated its occupants. L could see Light’s slight shock in his eyes as well, as if the younger man couldn’t believe what he was seeing either. L told him Soichiro was going to be attending, so why did he seem surprised to see it?

L was the only person in the room who saw Light’s feelings emerge and shut down.

Straightening his posture and clearing his throat, Light was the first to break eye contact in an unreciprocated gesture, turning to L as if nothing even happened. Or more so, as if an invisible wall had been placed between him and everyone else, both physically and emotionally. Soichiro still stared on, frozen in time. 

“Are we just going to stand around or is there an investigation we can get to? It’s the only reason I’m here, remember?” Light said to both L and un-subtly to Soichiro. 

L could feel the cold wave of dismissal strike into Soichiro’s heart harder than any heart attack would and had no idea how the chief was still standing from it. Selfishly, the detective was glad he wasn’t the only one being treated to Light’s newfound cruelty, but deep down he knew his situation was very different from Soichiro's. At least Light had a reason to come back to his father, with them being related and all. With some heartfelt apologies, L could easily see Light packing his bags and skipping off to reunite with his family. What attachment did he have to L? Nothing, there was nothing there, not anymore. Just some half-baked blackmail and revenge plots. 

L still wanted to hold on as long as he could.

Clearing his throat as well and unnecessarily, L made his way to the wall of monitors where all the computers sat. None of them had even been turned on. Mogi and Matsuda shuffled away to give L easy access to his laptop, their movements similar to penguins trapped within an icy storm. Opening it and turning back around, L met Light with his own indifference, “There has been a notable change within Kira’s victim pool that we’ve thought could use our attention first. Does Light-kun think he can sift through them and give us his thoughts?”

Light crossed his arms, “Who’s we? I was told this was the first day of investigation for the task force.” If the younger man didn’t already look put off, he certainly did now. 

“Well, yes, but my associates and I had done some previous combing to save time.” L waved distractedly to his successors behind everyone. 

“Associates—?” Light turned and immediately met Mello’s eyes, who stood up from his previous sitting position to cross his arms confrontationally. Matt waved casually, trying for an easy-going vibe as usual. Near stayed still and peered at the newcomer like he was inside a petri dish.

Mello took the confusion as a personal insult, “Got a problem with that?” 

Eyes sharpening and head raising haughtily, Light didn’t hesitate to match the blonde’s energy, “No, welcome to the team.” He said in the most unwelcome tone one could give. He didn’t seem impressed at Mello’s introduction. The other man scoffed and scoffed hard, “As if I need a welcome from you —“ Matt once again jabbed him into shutting up. 

Light sighed and turned away back towards L. The detective didn’t want to admit it, but he was embarrassed by his successors. He didn’t particularly care if Light made a relationship with them or not, but they were an important part of his career that he hoped Light could tolerate at least a little bit. Now everything felt more hopeless than before, and L couldn’t help but feel an irrational anger directed at Mello, his most confrontational heir.

“I suppose this case had to come with a few scruples…” Light made his way to the computers, sitting down habitually in his old chair, and acknowledged everyone’s existence for the first time since coming downstairs, “Well? Is anyone else going to be useful?”

『••✎••』

Far beyond mortal eyes, a desolate land of dusty sand and tremendous bones from unknown beings lay nearly dormant. Gods of death, what once had been creatures of fearsome glory, now reside uselessly in their boredom. Some gambled with bones, others slept, and many observed outlandish worlds in viewing pools with lazy eyes. 

One Shinigami, sighing to himself and walking towards another, wished he could be amongst the average population. His insect-like body and bandage-wrapped face were unpleasant in comparison to the God of death he was approaching, who sat on a throne of skulls and was plated in gold head-to-toe with shining jewels. Armonia Justin Beyondermason sat with his chin tucked on his lengthy hand, staring off despondently into the vast nothingness of their world. 

Mumbling awkwardly, Sidoh spoke, “Uhh, Armo-Justin…?” 

The higher-ranked being sternly interjected, “It's Armonia Justin to you.” 

Sidoh couldn't help himself, he gulped, “U-Um, I have a problem I think I gotta report?” He phrased it like a question, but there was no doubt that he was in hot water at the moment. 

“If you're asking me to force Deridovely to give you back your dead skulls, then my answer is no.” The two were barely in conversation and the other was already trying to check him off. 

“Augh, I wish that was the problem, but uh, have you seen my Death Note anywhere? I-I haven't written names in a while and I kinda need it.” Sidoh was doing his best to keep cool, but it was so hard to be calm when your death was now incoming. 

“Last I heard, Ryuk had snuck it past the old man saying it was his.”

The other Shinigami didn't quell his panic, “W-What?! Why didn't y-you stop him–?!”

Armonia didn't look like he cared any more than he did before, “It wasn't any of my business.”

Disregarding the fact that it very much was his business, seeing as the golden God of death was the King’s right-hand man, Sidoh slowly came to the horrifying realization of what Armo-Justin had said. 

“Wait, please don’t tell me…” 

“Yup, go to the human world if you want it back. Have fun.”

Sidoh bemoaned in self-pity, “Awwww, can’t you do it? Please? I don’ wanna go…” 

The shiny Shinigami waved his hand flippantly, “As I said, none of my business. Go fix your own problems, I’m not interested in whatever spat you got yourself in with Ryuk, as far as I’m concerned, he lives in that realm now.” 

“T-This is so unfair–!” 

Shifting his head in the opposite direction, Armonia seemed to be done with the lesser God. Sidoh continued to whine openly a few more times before he dragged himself kicking and screaming to the staircase down for the human world. It looked like he didn't have a choice. Either he has to be among the smelly humans or crumble into dust, and considering how painful it sounded when others died, Sidoh thinks he's better off with option one. 

Spreading his wings of cloth, the Shinigami flew down the gleaming stairs.

Chapter Text

Kanzo Mogi has always been a quiet person. While his stature suggested an otherwise, perhaps more boisterous personality, Kanzo always had the opinion that his thoughts were best presented through body language than any actual words. Not that he didn’t speak at all, but monosyllabic phrases and gestures were his go-to rather than complex phrases. 

For example, if someone asked him if he knew about any relationship between L and Light, he would simply shrug. 

It started relatively gradually, he noticed L and Light would sit closer together while they worked, hold eye contact longer than necessary, and somehow finish each other's sentences consistently. It was minor things like that. Kanzo didn’t observe any indication that anyone else noticed, not even the Chief. Sometimes, Matsuda would ask weird questions, but Matsuda was a pretty strange guy himself. 

He doesn’t know what happened, but sometime at the beginning of September, these minor things progressed rapidly. For a couple of geniuses, (Or, Kanzo supposes, a genius couple), they were really bad at making it subtle.

Still, Kanzo seemed to be the only task force member to notice. 

Rounding at the end of hallways, he’d catch them holding hands like lovesick teenagers. Watching their “dates'' with Misa, Light would laugh harder at L’s jokes than anything Misa would say. Even in the middle of lunch, when all task force members are present in the office, L could be seen sharing his desserts with his cuff-mate. 

Now, Kanzo isn’t one for character deductions, but he knew for a fact that L would never share his desserts with just anyone. The one time Matsuda asked for a macaron, L nearly hissed at the poor man. 

Still, though, these things could just be considered circumstantial. Holding hands? Well, it has a romantic subtext, but Kanzo knows that if he could cheer up his friends by simply holding their hands, he’d do it in a heartbeat. The thing with Misa? Well, no offense to the poor girl, but most of her jokes consisted of poorly thought-out puns. They don’t hold a candle to L’s surprisingly witty dry humor. And finally, the desserts? Kanzo would say it’s inevitable they would grow closer as friends, being handcuffed together and all. In the end, one could say they’re simply good friends,

At least, Kanzo would say that, if not for the blatant occurrence that happened this morning. 

Kanzo woke up early, his video call with his girlfriend last night lasting shorter than they anticipated. Yesterday was rough on Fumiko, and after they exchanged their usual pleasantries, she wanted nothing more but to collapse in bed. He could relate to that, working in the Kira Task Force building had its own peculiar challenges. After he moved out of the facility, Kanzo was hoping that he and Fumiko could finally get a place together. 

Moving on, when Kanzo had gone downstairs to get a premature breakfast and coffee, he heard that someone was already in the kitchen. The building was secure, more than any place he'd ever been in, so he had no trouble walking in to help himself. 

However, the sudden rustling he heard as he got closer made him want to step back, but that thought was abandoned when he heard the sudden crash of a pan hitting the floor. Stepping inside, Kanzo was met with L and Light, apparently making their breakfast too. 

It was immediately suspicious. After all, L had Watari, so why were they cooking for themselves at such an early hour?

But if there was anything Kanzo learned while working on this investigation, it was that you don't question geniuses. So, he made his way towards the coffee machine without saying a word. 

“Good morning, Mogi-san!” Light chirped, picking up the empty pan with a spatula in his other hand. “Did you sleep well?” 

Kanzo hummed in affirmation. Grabbing a mug from the cupboard, it didn't escape his peripheral vision that Light looked a little ruffled as he adjusted his collar and re-tucked his shirt into his jeans. But everyone was allowed to have an off-morning, so Kanzo didn't put much thought into it. L quietly coughed from where he was standing in front of the fridge, looking as messy as normal. 

Light continued to talk for the three of them, “I was about to start making some omelets, do you want any?” Light shuffled L away from the fridge as he opened it to grab an assortment of ingredients. L’s eyes looked slightly betrayed, “Light-kun said he was making pancakes, not omelets, was Light-kun lying to me?” 

Kanzo could hear Light roll his eyes, “I said that so you would let me into the kitchen, besides, omelets are healthier.” The brunette finished pulling things out of the fridge, letting it close on its own and gazing proudly at his selection of eggs and vegetables. 

“I would like one, thank you.” Kanzo answered the question from earlier. The young man immediately went to work, turning on the stove and cracking two eggs into a glass bowl, “Any preferences?”

Kanzo glanced at the ingredients on the counter, “Cilantro and bell peppers, please.” 

“On it,” Light turned his eyes to the pouting detective next to him, “Can you dice the peppers for me?” 

L crossed his arms and hunched into himself further, “I’m not doing anything for a traitor such as yourself. It’s 15.67% now, only Kira would be capable of such cruel machinations.” 

“Argh-! Fine, be useless, just don't get in my way. And, for the record, I'm making you one too, and you’re going to eat it.” Light hip-bumped L away as he brought out the cutting board to dice the vegetables. 

L looked more betrayed, if it was possible with his imperturbable complexion, “I will do no such thing. Light-kun led me to believe I was going to eat pancakes, not—” he gestured at the counter, “whatever this poison is.” 

The brunette notably turned on the charm, giving L his full attention, “If you do, I'll add in some jam on toast. Please, for me?” He dragged out that last word and leaned in closer to L than friends should be. Feeling like he was maybe watching something he shouldn't, Kanzo gave his concentration back to the coffee machine, which was taking its time in serving his mug. 

He heard L’s response, “Very well, but I'm in charge of lunch.”

Light sighed in resigned agreement. And that was that. 

Or at least it should’ve been, but unfortunately for Kanzo, his morning was about to get much more…intense. 

Light mumbled to himself about keeping clean and grabbed an apron off the hook on the kitchen wall, hastily putting it on to prevent getting dirty. At that moment, Kanzo decided it was a bright idea to put his focus on Light instead of his coffee. Glimpsing to his left, the quiet giant was met with a shocking sight. 

A big, fat, and completely obtrusive hickey sat on Light’s neck. 

Kanzo was a detective, he knew bruises from abrasions from scratches, and he knew that the mark was not any of them. It was a bonafide hickey. 

The sad thing is, Kanzo’s first thought wasn't that it was from Misa, who was supposed to be Light’s girlfriend. Instead, his mind immediately connected it to the sugar-addicted detective who was sticking his head in the fridge at that exact moment. He gawked at it, his coffee completely forgotten. 

Light’s eye peeked over at Kanzo, probably noticing his lack of movement, and the young man’s face froze the second it latched onto his. If you follow the older man’s line of sight, it is obvious where exactly he is looking. Immediately slapping his hand over the mark, Light’s normally collected face began to flush in embarrassment. His cheeks were redder than the bell peppers he was cutting. 

Not knowing what to say, Kanzo’s wide eyes traced back and forth between L and Light in bafflement. Light began to open his mouth, a noise stuttering out to prepare for an excuse or apology. 

Instantly, Kanzo put his hand up in peace, stopping the brunette before he could try to save himself. He smiled a little, realizing that the weird behavior these past few weeks was truly the sign of a romantic affair after all. Looking at the college student with placation, Kanzo thought to himself that they seemed happy together, and it wasn't his place to question what a genius does. Gesturing that he would zip his mouth, the older man decided to do what he had always done, which was to say nothing. 

Light softly smiled at him, still embarrassed, but grateful. The younger man adjusted his collar, which had come loose when he put on the apron and went back to cooking. 

Better Kanzo knowing than the Chief, at least. 

『••✎••』

Matt didn't know what to make of the Kira Task Force. They seemed awkward, held themselves closely, and came across as unsure of what to do. Matt knew that if he asked Mello what he made of them, he’d say something like, “They’re idiots, Mattie, a buncha dumb idiots who need L to hold their hands just like every other task force. Now get your head away from the stupid game and pay attention.” He thought it was unfair to think that, it wasn't normal people’s fault they were average. It's just the way it is. 

He did surmise a few things, of course, Aizawa was hot-headed, Ide seemed a little too into that, Mogi was lost, Chief Yagami was dying inside, and Matsuda was a hot mess wearing a smile. But that's about it, so far. He can tell they were familiar with each other, they probably hang out at bars after a rough day at the station, comforting each other, telling stories, that kinda shit. He thinks the correct word is friends, but Matt doesn’t know if the average Japanese citizen categorizes relationships like that. Their social norms were vastly different from the secular life that is Whammy’s House. Regardless, Matt made sure to appear friendly to everyone else, someone needed to balance Near and Mello's off-putting personalities. 

It’s all in good faith to keep things light. In the end, Matt doesn't actually care and he's trying to distract himself from the elephant in the room. 

And that elephant's name is Light Yagami, the scapegoat-Kira himself. 

Yet another enigma in this shit sandwich of an investigation. 

Matt was never quite sure of the details of the Kira investigation, he wasn't watching its progress like a hawk like Mello did, nor did he have any original theories during its prime like Near did. He heard it existed, discovered he still didn't care, and went back to playing on his DS. Mello always tells Matt that he needs to show more passion in life, but Matt thinks he is plenty passionate, he wouldn't have stuck around this long if he didn't care. 

Sure, the only thing he truly cared about was Mello, but that's a whole lotta energy in of itself. The blonde is one helluva handful, Matt had to keep jabbing at the guy because he kept trying to start a fight with everyone. 

He digresses, the point is, the young man had no idea what Light Yagami’s deal was with L and vice versa. He knows the facts; L went to Japan and got cozy with the task force, there were three Kiras, and Light was sent to prison because everyone believed he was the first Kira. Oh, and killer notebooks, because that made sense. But if you asked Matt about anything else, he'd give a blank stare unless you were a certain chocolate-loving, gothic-wearing blondie. 

When Light Yagami walked down the steps, looking as anorexic and beautiful as a model, the atmosphere of the room was set on fire. Everyone looked ready to blast off, it was honestly kinda amazing, in Matt’s humble opinion. Unless you're Mello, you can't find this amount of drama just anywhere. There were a few people in particular that Matt paid special attention to. 

First off, the Chief, aka Light’s big papa, looked like dog water. Palms sweaty, on the verge of tears, and dead inside. But what did you expect? It must’ve sucked to have sent your innocent son to prison for the crime of being too perfect. Matt felt a little bad for the guy, but then he remembered he didn't care and looked at someone else. 

Matsuda was a weird one. He looked like a kicked puppy and walked like a lost kid in the mall, (flashback to the time Whammy’s kids took a field trip to the mall…), was he close to Light too? Or was he the type to wear his heart on his sleeve? Was it both? Both are good. He also looked nervous as hell, more so than the other members, barring Chief Yagami, of course. He had a blatantly guilty look on his face, adding to the puppy thing, but it made sense, the task force was also to blame for Light’s wrongful imprisonment. However, Matt still cataloged the behavior as peculiar, because Matsuda seemed more ashamed of something else…

Ah, well, who was he to air out people's dirty laundry?

Besides, the most “mysterious” person in the room’s reaction was even more strange. L looks like he’s been sent from hell and back since he walked back into the room to explain Light’s absence, not that anyone noticed besides Matt. It does make a man wonder what sorta situation would provoke these emotions…

Maybe L and Light had something else going on back then, something that was less professional than the detective would want his successors to believe…

Anyways, who cares? Murder investigation, people, let's talk about the murder.

Speaking of murder, the mood of the investigation has been killed, and it seems nobody has a desire to revive it, like unreliable party members in the new zombie game Matt was infatuated with recently. The second Light Yagami sat his ass down, the people around started shuffling in awkwardness as if they never worked a day in their lives. Especially the Chief, whose mind seemed to have exited the world when his son dismissed his existence earlier. 

“Well? Is anyone else going to be useful?” Matt would normally be annoyed with that attitude if it wasn't justified, thankfully the brunette’s words kicked everyone back into cognitive function. People started to turn on their computers and sit down. 

Mello scoffed, semi-sat back down on his lap once again, and pulled out his laptop to work as well. Matt continued his game since no one had told him to do anything specifically yet. Might as well not waste the energy. A few minutes passed, and Matt’s brain finally melted into the pixelated mush he desired, no thoughts, head empty.

His ears did perk, however, when he overheard the conversation between their darling detective and his ex-suspect. They were nearly whispering, but while Matt’s lungs were shot his ears were quite reliable. 

The sound of a chair scooting over, “Does Light-kun notice anything?” 

“I might be able to say something if you give me some oxygen. You have 5 seconds to back up, now.” The chair scooted back dejectedly. Light hummed haughtily, “Some of these criminals are less…extreme than the first time around. It seems Kira seeks to expand his victim pool, perhaps he feels more emboldened?” 

“We’ve deduced that much as well,” Matt can hear that L’s finger is now hooked into his mouth, “however, it has come to our attention that this may be yet another Kira. After all, if the victims are different now…” 

“Ah, so we first need to prove this is the same Kira as before, then.” 

“That’s right, Light-kun.” 

There was some minor shuffling and the sudden screech of another chair pulling away from its spot. “If you don't back away now, L, I'm finding a new office area.” Another few pathetic scoots back. “That's better.”

『••✎••』

“Good afternoon, gentlemen, I’ll soon be serving lunch. It’ll be udon noodles today, if anyone would like an alternative meal, please notify me at your earliest convenience.”

“Fuckin’ finally…” Mello grumbled, spreading his arms out to stretch his back and slapping his hand onto Matt’s farthest shoulder. Ah, good ol’ reliable Mello, even when he's hugging you he has to be aggressive about it. Matt wouldn't change a thing about him. 

Except for his crankiness when he hasn't had his fix of chocolate, that Matt could do away with. Thank God Matt isn't a picky eater, he could eat anything at any time. 

A few awkward moments passed, and everyone stopped what they were doing and turned off their computers. Watari came rolling in with a meal cart, each bowl of noodles covered with a fancy top and with each member of the task force’s name written on a card above them. It was extra, but a lotta things with the British butler/inventor were these days. At least it shows some form of a caring gesture, those are rare in Whammy’s House. Unless you were a goody-two-shoes student, which Matt and Mello weren't. If you were one, the staff practically kissed the ground you walked on. Meanwhile, the two of them were lucky to get out of the classroom without getting paddled on the ass. 

Handing out a bowl to everyone, (except L, he got his own special plate of chocolate cannolis and tiramisu), Matt could hear each of the Japanese members give a quiet thank you to Watari, including Matt, because he knows not to fuck with the guy feeding you. Near simply grunted when he got his bowl, noticeably remaining on the floor but closer to the coffee table now, while Mello simply took the bowl out of Watari’s hands, placed it on the table too, and snagged his preliminary meal chocolate bar to munch on. 

Slurping on his noodles and swerving his body to look at everyone else, Matt noticed something odd about not-Kira’s meal. In short words, he got a bigger bowl than anyone else. Which, like, wow, jealous. Is Watari picking favorites? That's not fair, where’s his goodies? Matt might seriously file a complaint against this injustice.

He stopped himself from making a dumb joke about it to observe Light’s reaction, he looked confused but grateful. He clearly appreciates the gesture but doesn't have the right facial expression in his inventory to express it well. Yikes, prison must have sucked ass, it’s probably fair he gets the bigger, better meal. Matt wasn't actually that butthurt about it in the first place, he just wanted to lighten the mood.

Because holy crap, it's so stale right now. Nobody’s talking during the supposed lunch break, only the sound of chopsticks scraping bowls and slurping gives everyone company. Matt already hated this case from the get-go, he didn't want to waste his time on a buncha boring jack-offs either, he's gotta do something to break the ice a bit. Maybe start some drama? That could be fun, and a good way to get people past this soap opera episode. 

He smirked, “Say, L, I thought this was a lunch break, not a dessert break. I won't tell your dietitian if you spare me a cannoli though!” It wasn't the best conversation starter, but we all start from somewhere. L looked a little awkward, being put in the spotlight all of a sudden, “I don't have a dietitian.” He says bluntly. 

Surprisingly, the youngest officer, Matsuda, seemed to realize what Matt was attempting to do and perked up slightly. “Y-Yeah, but don't you have a dentist? I mean, the cavities you get must be insane!” He nervously laughed at his own joke, Matt chuckled to make him feel better.

Tilting his head, L responds, “…I have veneers, therefore cavities aren't a problem.” Matsuda looked a little disturbed, “Wait, seriously? Did you get them because your teeth already had cavities, or to prepare against cavities?” The officer nearly forgot about his food, holding the bowl in his lap as it slowly chilled. L bit his thumb and glanced in another direction, “I’m not obligated to answer that question.”

Oh, it was definitely the former, Mello owed him 20 bucks, easy. 

A new voice entered the conversation, “Poor baby L, he fought off the big, bad cavities but calories must be giving him a hard time.” Light turned towards everyone else, having previously eaten facing away and towards the monitors. The brunette put his hand under his chin, an empty bowl behind him, and looked at the head detective with impish intent. This was getting good, Matt lives for mischief. “I suppose we should save him from damaging his body,” Light quickly scooted his chair forward and snatched L’s plate away from him, “There’s no need to thank me.”

Matt cackled, leaning his body over the back of the couch, “Hey, that's good thinking! Don't want the World’s Greatest Detective dying an early, sugary death. What’s after veneers? Diabetes?” The gamer flapped his hands towards Light, “Gimme a cannoli! Mello never shares his chocolate with me!”

The 23-year-old looked at him with humorous apprehension, a little intrigued by the friendly, unbiased attitude but dragged down by distrust. After a brief moment of silence, Light shrugged and tossed the dessert in his direction, “Bold to take food from an ex-convict, you sure I didn't put a razor in your food?” 

Matt decided to take the easy route with that question, “Aww, a razor? For little ol’ me? I'll treasure it forever.” Mello elbowed his hip, jealous like the possessive fuck he is. Matt hummed and took a big bite of the chocolate cannoli, and with his mouth full, spoke to L, “If there's a razor in here that fucks up my teeth, can I call your dentist?”

Matsuda and Mello chortled and chuckled respectively at his inquiry. Light looked at him, his gaze saddled with a confusing mix of respect, humor, confusion, and surprisingly, fear. Staring at the ground for a few moments, he turned his chair back towards his computer, no longer participating in the conversation. Matt wonders if this was perhaps the brunette’s first non-volatile dialogue in years. Struck harder than he thought he'd be by the other man’s look, Matt sat back down on the couch correctly, marginally snuggling his shoulder into Mello’s. 

He still didn't know what to make of Light.

Despite his levity, Matsuda’s knees still shook during the whole exchange.

『••✎••』

It wasn’t a very productive day. 

Light kept giving anyone who would look his way the cold shoulder. L constantly complained about being hungry. Chief Yagami continuously looked like he was going to cry at any second. And finally, Matsuda came across like the slightest sound would send him running for the hills in a panic. Everyone was in their depression arc, a hot mess.

Matt would find it more amusing if Mello didn't spend the whole day grumbling to himself about the team’s lack of efficiency. It got a little grating. 

It was nearing 9 PM when Watari chimed in on the monitors, “Gentlemen, I think you've worked hard enough for today. Please depart from the office. For those of you staying in the building, please notify me what you'd like for dinner. Good night.”

People once again turned off their computers, stretching an assortment of limbs as they got up to leave. The cops looked exhausted despite the fact they didn't really do anything, but neither did Matt, so who's he to point fingers? Light’s face spelled confusion as he shut off his monitor, “Already? Why so early?” 

L stood up in his usual hunch, “Watari believes operating under a defined schedule every day will optimize the team’s work ethic.” 

Matt could hear the irritation in the other man’s voice, “But the night’s still young, there's so much work to be done! How on earth are we going to execute Kira if we’re wasting time?!” Light gaped at the other investigators as if they betrayed him. The other members of the task force looked a bit startled, stopping their leave to observe the confrontation. L curled into himself further when he saw the crowd watching, “There’s no need for Light-kun to get testy, if it matters that much to him he can stay and work as long as he likes. The rule isn't enforced.” 

“What? You're not gonna stay either?” His voice was getting progressively louder, “Since when did you turn in early?”

Instead of explaining like a normal person, (Why on earth did Matt think he would in the first place?), L decided to be pissy back, “Why does it matter to Light-kun where and when I do and don't work? I was led to believe he didn't care.” 

Light chuckled breathlessly, like he couldn't believe what he was hearing, “Oh, I see how it is. The Great Detective L isn’t invested in this investigation enough to spend all-nighters anymore, huh?” He spread his arms out wide, “What’s the deal, L? Don't want to put the work in when it isn't me going behind bars?” 

L’s eyes went wide in offense, “What on earth are you—”” “That’s just so fucking like you, L! It’s just not fun anymore if you're not vilifying me, huh? Is that it?”

Matt noticed Mello was about to put his two cents in, probably to defend L, when he put his hand on his shoulder to stop him. This argument seemed personal, nobody should step in to exacerbate it. Mello snapped his sapphire gaze to Matt’s goggled vision. The gamer made sure to get his point across as he stared back, hoping the other man would understand what he was saying as he always did since they were kids. Mello acquiesced, but he obviously wasn't happy about it. In the corner of Matt’s eye, he could see Near scanning the two arguing men in dispassionate intrigue. 

Sheesh, if something was attracting even the robo-boy’s attention, it must be pretty bad. Matt felt a twinge of guilt in his mind for referring to Near like that on instinct, but he’ll blame Mello’s terrible influence on him for it. 

Matt really expected L to fire back with something just as nasty, but surprisingly, the detective just closed his eyes, inhaled through his nose, and continued walking towards the stairs. “Light-kun may stay here if he wants to, good night.” His quiet steps up and out of the room echoed. The only other noise beside it was the faint gnashing of Light’s teeth clenched together in rage. 

“Fine—!” The brunette sat down petulantly, scooting his chair closer and closer to the screen as if he wanted to become one with it, “Go ahead and be useless, everyone. As usual, I'm the only person who gives an actual fuck about Kira.” Matt couldn't see his face anymore, but the guy sounded like he was on the verge of tears. Reminds him of that one time he decided to hang out with Near for a change, only to come back to his and Mello’s room later that day and see the blonde in the corner, telling him to go away and play with “his new best friend.” He felt bad for Light, but it was his own fallacies that were holding him back. No one ever claimed to not care about catching Kira.

Matt decided to play the responsible role and shuffled Mello and Near out towards the elevator with him. Taking Light’s dismissal and Matt’s movement as a signal to leave, everyone else nabbed their things and left towards the elevator as well. 

Well, everyone except for Soichiro Yagami. 

Staring at his son’s back as if it held all the answers in the world, Soichiro quietly put his things back down and took place in his chair. The other task force members looked at their leader listlessly. Matt himself stopped in anticipation. What was the deal with these people? 

“Chief—?” The kicked puppy—Matsuda quietly whispered in question. 

The Chief turned back to his team, his glasses glinting in the bright lights of the monitors. He smiled sadly, “You guys go on ahead, I have a few more things I want to check for the case.” His eye bags and wrinkles never seemed so prominent until then. Which was saying something, as the man looked nothing but depressed all day. The officers nodded and went into the elevator, the successors following behind them once they realized there was nothing else to see. 

Light didn't say anything, but there was a nearly imperceptible tilt of his head that acknowledged the events behind him. 

Matt didn't usually care, but these people were too interesting to not be at least a little intrigued.

Chapter Text

“You see what I’m seeing, don’t ya?” Matt continued, trying to convince Mello of his ridiculous theory once again that day. “He ain’t right, something happened to him.” 

Mello wished he could punch his best friend, who was interrupting his sleep instead of snoring like he always does. He attempted to cover his ears with his pillow, but Matt kept talking out loud in the bunk below him. “Mells, stop ignoring me. You always do that when you know I’m right.” Stupid, perceptive Matt. Mello knew he should’ve slept in the library instead. He didn’t want to admit Matt was right, that his idol could be anything less than great, especially after winning such a grand case like the Kira Case. But everyone had noticed, even the stupider geniuses. 

Sulking in the library, the kitchen, and his bedroom, the stench of depression surrounding L has made everyone lose their footing. Everywhere he went nowadays, L sniffled quietly, sighed forlornly, and gazed sadly at all the residents of Whammy’s House who so much as breathed the same air as him. Deciding to continue rejecting reality, Mello sat up to glare through his mattress at his roommate, “That’s not true, jackass. Can you shut the fuck up now? I’m not waking up late to class because of you again.”

Mello could hear a fake sniffle below him, “Harsh, Mells, what’s with the swears? And you call yourself a Christian–” The blonde punched his mattress to get the point across. “Fine! Fine! I’ll be quiet now.” Grunting, Mello lied back down and closed his eyes to finally sleep. “...I’m just saying that maybe we should do something to, y’know, put you in L’s favor.” Mello’s eyes snapped back open, a light bulb shining in his head. An idea quickly erupted that he couldn’t shake. Matt yawned, “But…If you're so determined to sleep, then…”

Mello sat up at the speed of a rocket. “I have an idea!” He heard Matt sigh below him, which did not deter him at all, “L’s been off ever since he came back from the Kira Case, something must’ve happened to him! What if we figure out what soured his victory, fix it, and he boosts me up to first place for being so helpful?!” Who needs sleep? Mello was flooded with sudden adrenaline; he could barely sit still. Grinning a mile wide, the blonde swung off his top bunk and stomped onto the floor to shake his best friend out of dozing, “C’mon, Matt! The night’s still young, let's do this now! This plan is foolproof!”

Matt blinked his eyes at Mello, a dopey smile on his face that Mello refused to acknowledge set his heart aflutter, “Okay, genius, what do we do?” 

The blonde kept grinning, “What we do best! I have my lockpick, got your laptop?” Matt got off his bed and cracked his back, “Always do, which one?”

Mello ripped a blank page out of his Italian notes, he always found it easier to form a plan when he could write it out and visualize it, “The one we used when we took those cars for a joyride last year. We’re breaking into L’s room, I’m tired of asking for shit.”

Matt yanked the laptop from a mess of cords and sat next to Mello on the floor. He nudged him with his shoulder, “Fuck yeah, let's break rules!” Matt started typing vigorously, now in his element. “It’s been a while since we’ve schemed shit together, what’s the deets?” Nudging the other boy back, Mello smirked at him. He too missed having fun with his partner in crime, they’d been holding back lately due to their last punishment. 

Mello will never get the images of Matt's many withdrawal symptoms when he didn’t have any of his tech for a week out of his head for the rest of his life. Scary stuff. 

If his plan goes well, then maybe once L gets out of his funk, he’ll realize Near isn’t all he’s been cracked up to be and replace him with Mello. After all, how can you trust someone to take your position if you can’t trust them with your personal life? And, even better, what if he goes as far as to kick Near out of the institution for being the useless jackass that he is? Maybe he’ll ship the freak to China, where he’ll fit in with all the other sheep raised there. It was wish fulfillment, but the very thought of getting rid of Near made him even giddier to continue his plan. 

“Ya listenin’? ‘Cause here’s what we're gonna do…”

『••✎••』

Light blinked once, twice. He couldn’t look away. The world around him fell in and out of focus as his attention was drawn to the visage in front of him. The shattered, broken visage. As a teenager, he never felt so distant from his body before. He took great pride in how he looked back then, the careful persona created from his own will was graceful, attractive, a man you could get along with. 

Looking at himself now, all he saw was someone you’d want to run away from. 

He touched his face softly, ensuring that this was reality. His fingers glazed over his cheeks, his eyelids, his lips, feeling them but not quite. There was no sound anymore, no sensation, just him and the mirror, floating away with each other. This wasn’t the first time Light felt out of touch with the world around him. Sometimes, it eased him, other times, it made him want nothing more than to die. He’s been doing his best to push away the fuzz, wanting his focus to be honed on the investigation and nothing more, but when he was alone, with thoughts he’d rather not have, Light couldn’t help but allow his body to want to be elsewhere. His empty mind cocooned the world around his consciousness, and he could swim in the fuzz for eternity. 

Sooner than he desired, the loud pattering of the shower sucked him in, kicking his mind out of dissociation. Light realized he couldn’t even see the mirror anymore, its surface now muddled with the condensation of the now overbearing steam. His pajamas now clung to him, becoming heated and heavier than they already were on his weak, broken body. Light blinked, his eyes finally clocking themselves in since he walked into the room. It was still strange to see himself once again. Back in the penitentiary–in Hell –he wasn’t allowed to see himself, not even once. Mirrors can be so easily shattered into weapons, both for a convict to kill and be killed, much too dangerous to be kept around people like Light. 

Except, Light had the privilege to see himself again, didn’t he?

He wishes they could see him, everyone who spited him. The cruel guards, the disgusting criminals, and the monstrous task force. Because here he was, against everyone's wishes, he stood in the finest of bathrooms, among the tastiest foods, and wrapped in the softest, most expensive fabrics. He won. He got everything they said he couldn’t. 

It was enough to make Light smile. If you could even call the thing he saw in the mirror a smile. 

Daydreaming, Light wondered what Officer Larson would say if he saw him now. That man had a hate boner for him, for sure. He was taller than Light, with a slim stature that held hidden strength, and a crooked grin that paired perfectly with his ugly laugh. Elliot Larson was an asshole among assholes, constantly mocking Light, beating him, revoking his basic human rights, and…and…

In any case, Officer Larson wasn’t here anymore, was he? Who gave a damn what he thought, he and everyone else who thought it was okay to treat Light the way they did. However, never breaking eye contact with the mirror, Light couldn’t help seeing where they were coming from, looking as pathetic as he did. His bony shoulders protruded through his clothes, his hair tangled, and his posture more slouched than even L’s. 

L.

Best not to think of him now. Forcing himself to tear his eyes away from his reflection, Light glanced at the outfit neatly folded on the counter in front of him. Its solid, earthy colors offer no judgment. Watari outdid himself, the clothes Light found in his closet were near-perfect replicas of his old style, except more pricey. It seemed they spared no expense in making things like old times. The scent of the room was the same, the neutral bed sheets remained, and the temperature was just as cool as always. Almost nothing has changed. 

Well, almost everything. Slowly turning his head to his bedroom, the silence echoed back at him. 

Shaking his head, Light brought his attention back to the clothes he selected. While they derived from a style he was fond of, they almost felt…fake. Light couldn’t tell if he outgrew the style, or the style outgrew him. A lot of things outgrew Light that he never gave the thought would, like, TV shows he used to watch were now over, technology has expanded, and fashion trends have evolved in a more convoluted manner. Perhaps that was why he felt so artificial. 5 years wasn’t a long time, but it was long enough that the things that were new before were now outdated. Light, himself, is outdated. 

Speaking of outdated, Light’s mind flashed to the watch tucked away in his bedside drawer. The OMEGA Speedmaster Mk II was beyond vintage when he was given it and at the time it was an honor to wear something with such prestige. But now that he thought about it, the watch was just as obsolete as he was, there’s nothing prestigious about it. Complete garbage, just like the so-called man who gave it to him. Light isn’t stupid, he’s well aware of what that man was trying to do last night. He was trying to butter Light up, make him weaker than he already was, but Light wouldn’t let him or anyone catch him off guard ever again. He learned his lesson, he keeps a knife under his pillow for a reason. 

He and everyone else in the task force were rotten. To the core. They may act like they want to make amends, that they regret being the scum they are, but Light knew exactly what they were thinking. They just couldn’t wait to get rid of him, could they? He could see it in their eyes, their mistrust, their fear, their anger —They thought he was pathetic, a weakling, and that he’d do the world a favor if he stopped being a problem for everyone else and went back to his cell like a good boy —

Light nearly choked himself on that thought, hastily putting his hands on the top button of his top and quickly undoing it. There was no point in stressing himself out on thoughts so frivolous, the 23-year-old (and dear God how could he be that old– ) had better things to do. Stripping himself down, and briefly checking the water’s temperature, Light stepped into the shower, determined to not think anymore until he sat in front of the computer. 

『••✎••』

Light made a point to ignore everyone as he sat down at his desk and logged into his computer. Y’know, just like how they ignored him for 5 years. Fair’s fair, right? It was better that he gave them no reaction than blow up on everyone like he so badly wanted to do. He may have spent the last few years in prison, but even Light knows that it wasn’t very professional to be a screaming banshee in the workplace. He must be the bigger man, unfortunately. 

Typing mindlessly, Light thought of what he should do to confirm that this Kira was his Kira. Looking at the victim pool yesterday, while enlightening, did nothing to help solidify Kira’s identity. Although, it was vaguely disturbing to see the changes made. The Kira in the past, while cruel in his treatment of the FBI investigators, stayed strictly within the boundaries of targeting only the foulest criminals. This new modus operandi displayed a wider catch, attempted burglars, embezzlers, petty thieves, and even some tax evaders were shown no mercy. However, unlike Higuchi, who killed any public criminal with reckless abandon, these changes were intentional. Light noticed while observing the news yesterday that criminals who acted in self-defense or for the protection of their loved ones were still left alive. It appears that all that's changed is Kira’s line for what counts as evil and what doesn’t. Still, this might have been the work of a different person rather than the same Kira.

Light couldn’t let that be the case, this had to be the same Kira as before. Please.

He just needed to think, there was something he was missing. What did they know about the original Kira? He was likely young, male, idealistic, and had something against Light that he wanted to frame him--

“T-That’s terrible! And were they really found together ?!” Matsuda’s loud concern broke Light’s train of thought. Unwillingly, he found himself listening in on what the police officers were talking about. Aizawa sounded solemn as he answered the question, “It’s true, judging by the notes they left behind we believe it was some sort of suicide pact. But I’ve never seen any like this one before…” 

“That’s just crazy! I remember that just the other day Fujita-san got coffee for everyone! You’re telling me that he and Suzuki-san were suicidal? That’s…T-that’s…” Matsuda sighed dejectedly, “I wish I knew they felt that way, I-I know they were technically bad people, but…”

“I know how you feel, I never would’ve suspected they were informants for the Black Dragons. Then again, Takamiya has had a grip on the police for years, there was bound to be some bad apples that we never took account of.” Aizawa coughed and then opened the conversation to the other officers, “Did you guys have any idea?” Light finally glanced behind him and saw that all the police officers were giving their attention to an unrelated topic, typical. Ide seemed to think it was a good time to jump in, “About their suicidal thoughts or their collusion? Because I had no clue on both accounts, I’m just as surprised as you are.” Mogi nodded his head in agreement. His dad– Soichiro Yagami looked conflicted as he spoke, “Now that I thought about it, the two always seemed skittish when passing by the organized crime unit, I guess now we know why.” 

Huh, now that Light had given it some thought, the conversation sounded interesting. From what he gathered, officers Fujita and Suzuki committed suicide together, confessing to a collusion with the Black Dragon Clan in a series of notes left behind. A tragic case, yes, but once you realize the true evil that being a corrupt cop is, you start to feel less bad about them. Light doubts he’ll even remember this conversation by the end of the week. Still, something about it itched him the wrong way…

His eyes widened, that was it ! The wheels of his chair screeched as he turned around, “Wait, you’re telling me that two police officers have just recently killed themselves while confessing to their crime, at the same time that Kira has been noticeably active? Were Suzuki and Fujita close enough to warrant a suicide pact? Isn’t it suspicious they hadn’t displayed suicidal tendencies until now? Has their death been made public yet?” He stood up, ignoring the dizziness he felt, as his mind went a mile a minute. Light started pacing back and forth, a hand on his chin, “We know the original Kira had access to confidential police knowledge, I doubt it would have been hard to discover Suzuki and Fujita’s crimes with that as an in, and Kira has shown in the past to be particularly skillful in retrieving private data with the FBI agents, if my hunch is right…” 

Mello, the most annoying one out of L’s posse, stood up at Light’s spiel, “Hold on! If the policemen were criminals, why didn’t Kira just kill them with heart attacks? Why would he go through the trouble of killing them as if it were a suicide pact?” Light stopped at the inquiries, thinking to himself a few moments longer, “I suspect that either Kira has a personal vendetta against these officers, meaning that they might not actually be guilty, or perhaps Kira is trying to tell us that he has access to private police information…”

The blonde’s face crunched in indignation, “That’s fucking stupid, why would he–” “It’s not out of character for Kira to do such a thing.” L cut in, also swerving his chair around. “If you recall, Kira had once killed prison inmates every hour for a few days after we discovered he was likely to be a student, which was confidential, and that was what revealed to us that he had access to the police. We know that Kira isn’t an idiot, he did that on purpose, he wanted us to know that so he could manipulate me into distrusting the investigators.” The detective put his thumb on his lip, “Perhaps Kira is trying to tell us once again he has access to the police, so much so that he discovered a collusion within the police’s ranks, it could be a direct challenge.” 

“Don’tcha think that’s a bit of a long shot? As you said, Kira killed those criminals with heart attacks, not suicide. If Kira was trying to pull the same trick again, wouldn’t he just kill inmates in the same fashion as before so there would be no doubt as to what he was trying to say? You seriously don’t think this could all be a coincidence?” Matt itched his nose as he asked the question, seemingly not caring but noticeably jumping to Mello’s side. 

L looked at Light, expecting him to answer. It pissed the brunette off, but he wanted everyone to be on the same page, “Think about it, Kira this time around is bolder, he kills pettier criminals. It wouldn't be a leap in logic to think he would also change his way of messaging L.” Matt smirked, “That’s cool and all, but I found a hole in your logic. This whole theory only works if this is the same Kira with police knowledge as before, and as you’ve pointed out, this time around Kira has a different victim pool, so he could be a totally different person with a Death Note and this suicide pact really was just that.” The brat didn’t even look like he cared , like this was all a game to him. Fuck that. This wasn’t a game, not anymore . 

He tried to keep it down, he did, but the anger he felt was starting to boil deep inside him. Light was fuming . Was it so hard to believe him?! He knew what he was talking about, Light had been a member of this case far longer than these punks had! “It is the same Kira! It has to be! We never caught him, there’s no way this could be a coincidence! Kira couldn’t have just disappeared! He’s a monstrous, criminal mastermind! He’s still around, I know it—! ” Desperation leaked into his voice and judging by the looks he was getting, Light knew he appeared to be getting hysterical. Matt looked off-put like he wasn’t expecting such a reaction.

Mello reacted with his own anger, “Hey, jackass! It’s not our fault your argument fucking sucks! All it sounds like to me is that you want this to be the same Kira and you’re trying to force everyone to believe it too! Maybe next time, don’t come off as a biased asshole.” The blonde flipped the bird to Light as if the brunette kidnapped his family.

L thought himself a mediator as he spoke up, “Both of you, that’s enough. Both of your sides have merit, but please, control yourselves.” He turned back towards his computer, “I think you’ll both be interested in this information.” Suddenly, the wall of screens traditionally used for monitoring the building displayed several pictures of handwritten notes. “In the past, Kira had forced inmates to write notes before they died of heart attacks, each containing seemingly heartfelt messages of regret. However, and I kept this knowledge hidden from even the police, there were secret messages written at the top of each letter. As you can see, the message when you combine all three letters reads ‘L, do you know? Gods of Death love apples.’ I think, if we find a similar message in the letters left behind by Suzuki and Fujita, we can prove that this Kira is the same Kira.” 

A soft, boyish voice unexpectedly perked up from behind everyone, “Got it.” They all turned around, befuddled. Near stood up, laptop in hands, and walked over to the other investigators, “While you were all having a screaming match, I found the message when I hacked the investigation notes.” Matsuda took issue with that statement, “You hacked the police–?!” “However, I don’t think Yagami-kun will appreciate what Kira has to say.”

Light suddenly felt the dizziness he had before coming back in full force. Hoping his hand wasn’t shaking too obviously, he swallowed, “Let me see.” Near handed him the computer with no further expression given. Light knew the other investigators were curious, but if this was a message for him specifically, then he had the right to see it first. Taking in a deep breath, Light examined the top of the 5 papers contained in the suicide note. 

‘The perfect moon has now been eclipsed. Tell me, was prison as cruel as I hoped it would be?’

He couldn’t breathe. 

All cohesive thoughts escaped him. Someone lifted the laptop out of his hands and gently guided him to his chair, but he couldn’t tell who. He wanted to tell them to stop touching him but he had no control over his body anymore. His ears were stuffed with static and his eyes refused to focus on anything, the world was slowly deteriorating around him and there was nothing he could do to stop it. He felt like he was fading away. And when Light felt like he was disappearing, there was only one thing that helped. He let it happen. 

Floating away in his mind, Light felt nothing. It could be hours or days until he snaps back into place but none of that mattered anymore. So long as the terrible thing that knocked him out of orbit stopped hurting him, everything was safe. Just let it be, just let it—

“--ight! Light! Snap out of it!”

“H-Huh?” 

As usual, something yanked him back to reality before he was ready.

Light didn’t want to make a fool of himself further, so grasped at his fleeting thoughts and mashed them back together to appear as collected as he could be. Coughing mildly, Light brushed L’s hands away from his personal bubble and straightened himself. “I’m fine, I just got spooked, it’s nothing serious.” L looked disappointed at his self-recuperation, which made sense, L was a sadistic bastard who enjoyed Light’s suffering. Matsuda wrung his hands anxiously, “You sure? Anyone would’ve freaked out after reading something like that–” Before Light could interject, Soichiro stepped in and clasped the officer’s back, “Matsuda, please.”

Looking at his chief, Matsuda stuttered, “O-Oh, right…” Everyone stepped back to give Light the space that he didn’t know he needed. Inhaling but doing so imperceptibly, Light swerved back to his computer, not wanting to look anyone in the eye anymore. He started to type his findings on his investigation notes, “Well, I hope everyone agrees with me now that we have proof. This is the same Kira as before, and he wants us to know that. Besides the letters, that’s why he killed those corrupt cops with suicide, we’re well aware of the Death Note’s power now, he doesn’t need to hide his hand anymore.” 

He heard everyone behind him mutter in agreement, even Mello. Light wanted to say that being proven right made him feel better, but his heart had refused to slow down. His knees were shaking, and a cold sweat rolled down his neck. It was the same Kira, and he wasn't ashamed of what he did to Light, in fact, he seemed proud of it. It made Light want to cry, it made him want to kill someone. He swallowed a lump in his throat and fought back tears, he just wanted this to be over now. It was a stupid thought, but Light just wanted to go home . 

Except he didn’t know where that was anymore. Not with Soichiro, not with Sayu, and not with L. 

Trying not to break down again, Light combated his thoughts of helplessness with more important things. Like, what’s next now? Should they review the rules of the Death Note? Light hadn’t been allowed to touch it, the first time around, so he was hoping he could now. Was the Shinigami still around? In fact, what on earth happened to Misa–?

Misa.

Misa Amane.

He had no idea what happened to her, no one had told him. 

A cold bolt of electricity ran down Light’s spine and he slowly turned his head to the detective next to him. Was that on purpose? She was the second Kira, everyone knew it. So she was probably executed or put in prison, right? Right? Maybe that’s why no one had talked about her yet, because she was already subdued. But if so, then why did Light have such a bad feeling?

“L?” He shakily uttered. 

The infuriating man gazed back at him in question, “Yes, Light-kun?” There must’ve been something wrong with Light’s face because his demeanor turned uncomfortable. 

“What…happened to Misa?”

Silence.

Chapter Text

Mello did his best to hold his breath as he and Matt slowly made their way up the stairs. They couldn’t risk being caught by the insomniac faculty workers who prowled the halls of The Whammy’s House. This plan was too important to fail. Mello prayed to God that nobody heard them, but Matt made it difficult to sneak around because of his constant yawning. Normally, Mello would use his hand to cover Matt’s mouth, but knowing his roommate, it’d be hard to cover up the scream from the inevitable saliva that would coat his palm. Sometimes, Mello doesn’t understand why he keeps Matt around.

Matt decided to once again test the blonde’s loyalty by yawning again, “It’s the room at the end of the hallway, I think.” Jumping slightly at the sudden noise, Mello whisper-shouted at his friend, “Shhhh, idiot! Have you never heard of an indoor voice?!” Matt looked annoyed, “Uh, dude! You’re being louder than me! Where’d you learn to whisper? A stage?” He whispered back, shoving past Mello to reach the door. Then, he crouched on the floor and opened his laptop silently. The glow of the screen was bright as it bounced off Matt’s goggles.

That’s it, if the guy kept being a hindrance, then Mello was going to kick him out of Operation: Fix L And Replace Near, also known as OFLARN, which Matt had previously and eloquently renamed it. He gestured widely, “I’m great at whispering! Quit being an ass and just do your job, okay?!” 

Matt yawned again, “Yeah, yeah, whatever…” He pulled out some kind of cord, stuck it into his computer, and attached the other end to the digital lock on the door. Rubbing his eyes, Matt typed for a few minutes before looking back up at Mello, “Okay, I overrode the code, it’s your turn.” The blonde nodded as he stepped around his roommate to access the secondary standard lock. He plucked his lockpicks out of his back pocket and immediately started to fiddle with the fixture, sweat starting to build on his forehead. He didn’t want to admit it, but he was panicking on the inside because of the noise he was starting to make. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Mello got the door to open, both locks now surpassed. 

Even he couldn’t help but punch the air in excitement. They were in!

Whispering even quieter, Mello took a step into the room, “We got this, Matt! Phase one is complete!” Hearing no response, he looked down and back at his friend, who seemed to have dozed off in the time it took for Mello to open the lock. The blonde couldn’t believe this, “Matt! This isn’t the time for a nap! Get up!” He started to get desperate, and he kicked at his friend soon after. Matt shot up, his arms flailing and eyes baggy, and he looked exhausted as he spoke, “Huh–?! Wha’s happenin’?” 

Mello wanted to say he was mad at his friend for sleeping on the job, but the sudden feeling of guilt permeated his mind as he considered his closest companion. Maybe he jumped the gun too far, he knew Matt had been having trouble sleeping lately, and yet he disregarded that fact and forced his friend to follow him anyway. He hates thinking about it, but Mello isn’t a good friend. Matt deserves better than him. Sometimes, the blonde doesn’t understand why Matt keeps him around. 

Sighing to himself, Mello looked the other way as he spoke, “Just forget it, you can go back to the room, Mattie. This should be a solo mission anyway.”

He could hear Matt put his things away and stand up sluggishly, “You…don’t want my help?” Mello scoffed in response, “Well, obviously not. I can’t have you steal my thunder, can I? I'm the one who’s trying to boost my ranking, remember? Just go back to sleep, idiot.” Having the feeling he spoke longer than necessary, Mello’s face became flushed. There was silence behind him for a bit. Matt’s tired smirk was obvious in his voice, “‘Kay, whatever you say, Mells. G’night.” Quiet footsteps echoed away as he stood still, waiting for them to be gone.

Once there was no more noise, Mello quietly walked into L’s room. It looked similar to that of an apartment if the shows he and Matt watched occasionally were accurate. The entrance was greeted by a small living room and an even smaller kitchen to his left, neither of them looking very well-lived in. Moving along the wall to his right, Mello made his way to another door, the one before it, he knew, being the bathroom. The room’s format was eerily the same as A’s and B’s, back when they lived on the top floor too. His feet slightly creaked on the wooden floorboards, so he moved with extra caution. 

Focusing, Mello could hear a voice from the bedroom. Maybe two, if the different pitches indicated anything. Mello held down the adrenaline threatening to burst out in the form of a smile, he was close! The only person who had full access to this room besides L was Whammy, and if there were voices, then that meant L was talking to Whammy right now! And since it’s so late into the night, it must be something secretive, something that couldn’t dare be uttered in the bright judgment of daylight. If Mello played his cards right and listened in, then he could figure out what L was struggling with and find a way to fix it. He was a genius! 

He finally reached the door and attempted to tune in by pressing his ear to the door. Unfortunately, the words sounded muffled even beyond the door. Not one to give up, Mello flattened himself to the floor, placing his ear in front of the crevice between the wood and the floor. Breathing in, he listened as best as he could. 

There was a wet sniffling, the sound of a blanket being moved, and a quivering whimper being muffled into a pillow. Mello, confused, tried to listen for L or Whammy, because what he was currently hearing couldn’t possibly be them. Whammy doesn’t have tear ducts and L isn’t emotionally capable of crying, not to mention it would be pathetic of them to stoop so low. 

There was a sob, “...L-Light, why’d you…?” More muffled crying, more rustling.

Mello suddenly shot up from his low position, eyes wide. Because that voice was unmistakable. It was L. L was crying. But how? And more importantly, why? The thought of L crying, all alone and in the dark of his bedroom was nearly unimaginable but apparently, possible. Mello slowly backed away from the door, feeling smaller than ever before, and the hallway seemingly lengthened as he tried to quietly get as far away as possible.

He was in over his head. Mello expected something simple to fix; they ran out of chocolate, L couldn’t find any more interesting cases, he was missing A and B, that kind of thing. Problems that Mello could fix easily. After all, he had a secret chocolate stash, he researches possible L cases every night, and whenever he misses his family, he simply plays a video game with Matt to feel better. Step-by-step problems like that. L was his idol, his role model, he should be better than the emotionally devastating problem that echoed from behind a closed door. What happened to teaching them about compartmentalization? What happened to the strong and wise voice that came from Whammy’s laptop? What happened to L, the world’s greatest detective?

Mello finally made it back to the room’s door and only looked back once, realizing that maybe learning more about L might’ve ruined him forever. 

『••✎••』

Silence.

Nobody wanted to answer Light, not even L. 

Especially not L.

Even without seeing them, L could tell that everyone went still at the question. Like statues, they didn’t breathe or speak. Their spines were stiff, and their hands remained frozen in time. There was a heavy pressure in the air as Light’s gaze bounced between every one of them, silently judging harsher and harsher. After sifting through all the task force members, Light’s vision once again landed on L himself. The brunette’s grip tightened on the desk as he stood up with a growing purpose in his stature. 

“Well? What happened to her?” There was a growing fire in Light’s eyes, the cinnamon within them slowly burning into embers. L ducked his head in shame, unable to meet the other’s gaze, “She visited New York, last I’ve heard.” 

Light chuckled despite the fact L didn’t say anything even remotely humorous, “Visiting? That’s just adorable. What’s she doing there? Painting the town red, as they say? Y’know, considering she’s a merciless serial killer and all…”

Within seconds, Light had made his way to L, grabbing him by his shirt and lifting him abruptly to the other’s face. Baring his teeth, Light spoke with bubbling venom, “Why in the fuck is Misa Amane , the second Kira herself, having vacations in fucking New York? ” L’s eyes widened at the pure vitriol being directed at him, but before he could get a word in, Light continued, “You better fucking hope I like the answer you give me, L, or Kira is going to be your last goddamn problem. Got it?” There was no winning in this conversation, not unless they killed Misa right here and now. And even if they did, her shinigami would simply kill them all right after.

There was no sugarcoating this. Light tightened his grip on his shirt even further. Steeling himself, L replied, “Unfortunately, Misa Amane was released and declared innocent as Light-kun was arrested. Her shinigami, Rem—” 

L didn’t get another word in when suddenly his face met the floor, a pulsing pain scathing in his right cheekbone. Above him, a cacophony of people breaking out of stupor as they raised from their seats and shouted fell to Light’s deaf ears. Instead of paying the crowd around him any attention, Light followed L to the ground, straddled his waist, and pulled his arm back for more punches. Not wanting to deprive the younger man of his deserved rancor, L braced himself for the blows. Light got a few good licks in, back-to-back, before Mogi managed to get him off of the other man. 

Growing frenzied, Light struggled in Mogi’s grip, “Get off of me! Don’t you dare touch me! ”

Wammy practically materialized behind L as he assisted him from off the ground. Gently, an ice pack was placed into his palm and guided towards his stinging face. L nearly hissed at the cool shock it gave him once it made contact. He didn’t stray his eyes off of Light for even a second.

Like a wild animal, Light didn’t go down without a fight. He elbowed, kicked, and headbutted Mogi as much as he could while figuratively caged down, shrieking obscenities as he did. Mogi was progressively struggling with the brunette, but nobody offered assistance in fear of meeting Light’s rage. Finally, getting a lucky shot in, Light scrambled out of the officer's grip and planted himself against the desk behind him, facing everyone but effectively cornering himself in the process. 

Trembling with anger, Light snarled, “Y-You’re all fucking rotten! Every last one of you, you hear me?! You’re all rotten, rotten, rotten! There’s a special place in Hell for hypocritical pieces of shit like you guys, and once I get there, I’m slaughtering every last one of you—! ”

“P-Please, Yagami-kun! You have to understand, we didn’t have a choice! R-Rem, she threatened us! Said she’d kill everyone if we didn’t let Misa go!” Matsuda cried out, holding out his palms in an attempt to pacify the ex-convict. It was futile.

“Who gives a shit about that ?! You all claim to love justice so much , but the second someone threatens you, you keel over like fucking dogs ?!” The man gestured at them all with potent resentment. “You toss me away, an innocent, to the bin like goddamn trash, but when there’s an actual murderer right in front of you, you let her go ?! Where’s your beloved justice then?!” Light swiped an angry hand across the desk area near him, launching keyboards and coffee mugs to the once-pristine floor. The cups shattered and the spilled coffee reflected everyone’s guilty faces back at them. Soichiro took a step towards his son, “Light, calm down—”

Light’s face swung towards the older man, “Fuck no! I’m sick and tired of coddling you all! You just told me that I spent 5 tortuous years in that Hell while a serial killer walked free and I’m supposed to take it with my head down?! Eat fucking shit, asshole!” He began sidestepping, keeping sure to maintain a clear view of everyone as he slowly made his way to the closest staircase. Stopping at Ide’s computer, which still had a keyboard, Light took sharp, suspicious ganders at every face before he started typing something in.

Confused, everyone waited for Light to complete whatever mysterious venture he was pursuing. From where he was standing, L could tell that Light clicked off whatever Ide was previously working on and opened the computer’s browser. Sucking in a nervous breath, L’s mind supplied him with the inkling of what Light was attempting. He understood that Light didn’t trust anything they said, so this next course of action would be in the brunette's best interests. The white page of the screen soon lit up into a disorder of oversaturated colors of sensual poses that disguised the depraved nature of its host. His shoulders suddenly sagging, Light gave up his guarded watch on everyone and turned his full attention to the screen. Without a sound nor breath, Light’s body covered the computer in a bewildered, yet resigned stature. The only thing anyone could see of the screen anymore was its gaudy colors that bounced off the brunette's frame.

They’d seen the pictures on the display, regardless of their distance. Unfortunately, she attracted attention from even those who never wished to see her again. Misa Amane bedazzled out in her most recent photo shoot, was a sour sight for sore eyes. They’d all known she was still alive and well, but to see her doing so well, as evidenced by the recent tour she’d been on, it irked them. It was especially bothersome to see Rem, the shinigami, in the background of several photos. Whether it be over Misa’s shoulder or flying above the stage, she was nearly always there, a malevolent spectator.

It wasn’t unexpected, it was clear Rem was insistent on staying with Misa despite the fact the girl didn’t remember or see her anymore, (L was still hesitant about that, but after personally screening her, L could tell Misa was far too stupid to fake amnesia that well). He didn’t desire to apply human emotions to ancient beings, but it was evident that the shinigami was in love with the model, motivating the threats she landed them with. For whatever reason, L couldn’t fathom. Nonetheless, it was eerie to see such a monster commonplace in the photos. 

With an emotion that could be defined as unease, L pondered how Matsuda, the subsequent owner of the Death Note after Higuchi’s death, feels having to see the shinigami once in a while, as per the rules of those owning the notebook, he must remain within a certain amount of distance to the shinigami. Before leaving the Kira Case 5 years ago, L established a stipend for the investigators to fund suitable security for the notebook and allow Matsuda to travel behind Misa when she went on tours. It was uncharacteristic of the detective to allow such a weapon to escape from his reach, but at the time he wanted nothing to do with the case anymore. If he could, he would've cycled the ownership between the officers once a week, as he didn't even trust Matsuda to go to the bathroom, but transferring ownership required forgetting about the Death Notes entirely, so the idea was dropped for the sake of consistency. In any case, L was just trying to distract himself from the issue in front of him with this inconsequential train of thought, so he’d better cease. 

Light’s back was undulating like angry waves, as if he was talking in hurried huffs of breath. With a brute shout, the ex-convict grasped onto the monitor and launched it to his right in the direction of where his successors stood. The glass shattered on impact and sprayed across the floor, causing Mello to recoil back with an indignant squawk. Light swiveled around quickly, clutching onto his long hair and nearly tearing it out in his enraged state. 

“I can’t believe this, I can’t believe this.” His eyes, tearing up in either fury or desperation, bounced between everyone once more, “Y-You know she killed people, right?! Without any remorse or care, I-I mean, for f-fuck’s sake,” His body twitched, “she killed an officer, your friend , on live TV!” The younger man was now shaking uncontrollably, his cinnamon gaze that L had once seen giving him more warmth than anyone ever did, now cold with righteous accusation. 

Watari, with a handkerchief and dustpan at the ready, was bent over and cleaning up one of the shattered mugs from earlier. “My dear boy, what we’ve said and what you saw is unfortunately the truth. The shinigami, Rem, had threatened us to release Misa Amane soon after your arrest. We struck a deal with her, she’d let us live on the condition that the girl’s memories of the Death Note would never return, and she wouldn’t come into contact with the notebook, or any other, for as long as she lives. We apologize for any deception, but we didn’t believe it imperative to inform you of this—”

“Oh, fuck you! Don’t feed me that crap, you know exactly why you didn’t say anything! I bet you all realized how badly you screwed up and didn’t want to tell me because I wouldn’t have hesitated to call your bullshit! Well, guess what?! You were fucking right –!” Light swung an accusing finger at them, “So it’s a goddamn crisis when your lives are threatened, but when it comes to me, I’m all good for the chopping block, huh?! You’re all corrupt fucking cowards! You think you’re all so high and mighty, tossing me into prison for nothing, yet when it’s your turn for the limelight, none of you are held accountable! Bastards, all of you!” 

The man was on a warpath, destroying and tossing everything he could get his hands on nearby. Whether it be chairs, Ide’s computer, or paper, nothing was safe from him. Figuratively, neither was the task force as they faced his diatribe, flinching collectively at each new colorful phrase Light threw at them. Huffing and puffing, Light stalked up to his father, stopping only once the condensation of his breath reached Soichiro’s glasses. “You can criticize Fujita and Suzuki all you want; you know you’re no better than them. Those two may have been scum, but at least they did right by killing themselves, ” A cruel smile distorted his face as his voice dripped with condescension, “We’re all aware you’ve been looking for an excuse to do that, eh Soichiro? Go practice that justice you love oh so much.” L felt a pang of sympathy for the chief as the heartbroken expression on his face shattered even more. Even with his justified anger, L believes the brunette was being too cruel in mocking his own father’s mental issues like that.

With a final furious twitch of his nose, Light stepped back from his father and swiftly made his exit, giving no mind to the destruction around him or the people he was leaving behind. Endlessly looking for a fight, Mello opened his mouth to yell, only stopping when Matt clasped his hand and pulled him back. It’d do nobody good to add fuel to the fire. Even so, Light did have a habit of being petty, so as he made his way upstairs, he left the task force with one last denunciation, “I hate Kira more than anybody, but before I tear him apart myself, I hope he kills you all first.”

And then he was gone. 

Light’s departure was the proverbial straw that broke the camel’s back, Mello’s face flushed in rage, and he paced around in the mess on the floor. “I’m gonna kill him, Matt, I swear to God–” The other successor interrupted him by placing his hands on leather-clad shoulders, “Mello, please, he has every right to be mad–” “The fuck he has, Matt! He threatened you, threatened every damn one of us, he has no fucking right–!” Mello was once again cut off from his angry tirade as Matt cupped his cheek and slid his goggles to his forehead in gentle admonishment, quietly ending the argument then and there. Behind him, L could hear Matsuda, who had been on the verge of a nervous breakdown since Light first asked what happened to Misa, finally break into tears just as the storm blew over. While the rest of the task force broke out of their bafflement, (But not really, everyone was still very on edge, and who could blame them?), and assisted Watari in clean-up, Soichiro stood in the middle of it all with his head down, glasses glinting with shame in the light. Near crawled out of hiding from behind the couch and twirled his hair, “That could’ve been handled with less noise…” 

His head flopped down on Matt’s shoulder, and Mello grumbled, “Shut up, Near.”

“I find it unpleasant to say, but Ryuzaki, do you think you could find him?” Watari approached him with kindness, shattered ceramic collected in the dustpan, “With his current mental state, he poses a threat to both the building and himself, and we wouldn’t want an accident, would we?” His mentor’s eyes gently nudged him in the direction Light left. In truth, L was genuinely concerned for Light, but it seemed he needed the gentle push from the older gentlemen to get his feet to detach themselves from the floor.

And so, with a heavy heart, L followed the path of fire Light had created.

『••✎••』

It took a few minutes to get from L’s figurative point A to point B. Considering the destruction he made in the main office; L was surprised to see there wasn’t a literal path of hellfire where Light walked. Which, lucky him, but it did make searching for the brunette less convenient. Circling to the floor where L and Light resided, (The successors resided above them while Matsuda, Aiber, and Wedy were below them, at least, they will be once the latter two finally flew in as he requested), the detective’s ear picked up the sound of hurried footsteps past the wall. L moved around the corner to see if his initial hunch was correct. 

Rushing over to his door and fiddling with his room key, the relaxed, malevolent attitude Light acquired earlier was abandoned to frantic despair. L, even from his distance, could hear panicked breaths coming from the younger man without even trying to listen. Taking a quiet breath of courage, L approached with caution yet made his presence obvious.

“Can Light-kun wait a moment before leaving?” L firmly asked, stopping only a foot away from the other man. Already clocking in the detective’s presence from his peripheral vision, Light didn’t flinch when he spoke, instead grabbing for the handle and saying, “No, Light-kun can’t , but he would very much appreciate it if the world’s greatest hypocrite would get lost.” It was clear the younger man was attempting to channel his earlier gusto, but L could see through him as usual. 

He positioned himself in front of Light, getting between him and the expanse of his room. L couldn’t let this conversation end without knowing if Light would hurt himself or not. “I understand if Light-kun is rattled by recent events—” “Understand? L, don’t make me laugh, you don’t understand shit .” The brunette attempted to push back against L, but he stood strong. Losing his thinly veiled cool quickly, Light’s voice grew more frustrated, “Are you looking for a rematch or something?! Because it isn’t gonna end well, you don’t have Mogi to save your ass this time.”

Allowing Light some leeway, L stepped back to let the other man into his room. “I just want to talk, that is all.” Light shut the door loudly, “5 years too late for that, jackass, you can’t backtrack now because it isn’t convenient for you anymore. Want civil conversation? Go call the serial killer you let free, I’m sure she’ll be another easy fuck for you just as the task force was for her.” The vituperation was disconcerting in the worst ways, forcing L to step back further as Light stomped past him. “That’s a cruel conjecture, Light-kun.”

Whirling around, Light’s agitation was weaponized, “Oh, you want cruel, L? I’ll give you fucking cruel. Here’s a few ideas; how about I lead you on for a few months? Y’know, soothe your night terrors, kiss you every morning and night, make “love” to you, tell you we’ll have a future together—And then when you least expect it, just when you feel safe, just when you feel understood, I toss your ass to prison across the sea with absolutely no warning! I let you be starved, tortured, and, a-and—” He cut himself off briefly, his eyes glistening with emotion more miserable than L had words to describe, “A-and then after 5 years of that treatment, I come crawling back to your non-life with a carrot on a fucking stick as guidance back into society! And on top of that, surround you with everyone and everything that had ruined your life all those years ago! There’s your fucking ‘cruel’!” Light’s face was now in front of his, mirroring his earlier position with his father, their eyes locked together. Without even realizing it, L had straightened his back to meet the hate-filled gaze head-on. 

As usual, he had no words to say. The detective had too many sins to apologize for and nothing he could ever vocalize would make things better. As Light said before, it was simply too late . The utter loathing in Light’s eyes, the guarded posture he held, the sorrow expressed in his suppressed tears, those many emotions at once were too devastating to follow. And so, without even thinking, L’s mouth went into defensive mode, “Light-kun was told exactly what he was getting into when I offered he leave Los Angeles with me, I don’t understand how blaming me for the things he was in control of will get him anywhere.” L’s mind couldn’t even register the garbage that was coming out of his mouth. It was with those words that he sealed his fiery fate.

Flinching back like he wasn’t expecting the response either, Light’s hair fell onto his face as he gritted his teeth and turned swiftly toward his bedroom, “Why did I even bother…?” Panicking, as now his body moved without thought, L snatched Light’s wrist before he made a full exit, “Wait, Light-kun—” It was the worst move to make.

Snapping from his resigned anger, Light clawed at the older man’s hand in desperation, “No, no, no–! I’m not letting you win this one! Let go of me, let go of me right now! ” L hissed in pain as Light drew blood, pulling his hand back in reflex but subsequently yanking the brunette towards him as well. Their chests clashed together in the struggle. There was now an unbridled terror in the other’s screams, “Stop! Stop, please! I’m innocent, you hear me?! Let go! Stop fucking touching me! ” The ex-convict started striking L’s shoulder with his free hand, “No more! No more, I’m begging you–!” Feeling his body begin to bruise, the detective pulled the wrist up and away to create distance between them, “Calm down, Light! I’m not going to do anything to you!” His declaration met deaf ears. Was the younger man even aware of his surroundings at this point? He continued screaming, “I said please , didn’t I? I can’t, I-I can’t–!” Feeling like removing extraneous stimulation was the best option, L finally released his grip on the other man, cutting the brunette’s strings as he suddenly flopped down onto his knees. 

Wrapping his arms around himself and rocking, Light didn’t stop panting in fear. L crouched down to his level and attempted to meet his eyes. The other only turned his head in response. 

Waiting as long as it took for Light’s body to unravel and quit swaying, L whispered, “Light-kun, please , talk to me.” Light chuckled mirthlessly as he still refused to meet the onyx gaze in front of him, “I did, but you refused to listen .” L made no response.

A few more moments passed, and Light played with his hands as they sat in his lap. Keeping his head down, he spoke, “I wanna ask you something, L, and I want the truth.”

L tried to maintain a gentle appearance as he pounced for the opportunity to be honest, “What is it you want to ask?” 

Light clenched his fists, hesitating but eventually whispering, “What did I do…to make you hate me so much? You might’ve been f-faking it from the start, but even so, w-what did I do to deserve it? To deserve all of this…?” 

He wanted to cry, he wanted to laugh, because God , how could anyone be so wrong? L loved Light, has never stopped loving Light, and that was exactly what broke them apart. Not because he hated the younger man, but because he loved him too much . Telegraphing his movements, L placed his hand over Light’s and squeezed, “Light, I have never hated you, not even a little bit. Not now, and not ever.” There, he found the right words.

Still, though, Light’s shoulders shook with empty laughter, “A liar ‘till the end, huh? Even in this moment, when we’re…” Suddenly, the hands under L’s fell away as he stood up, finally meeting L’s eyes once he had reached full height, “Fine, be that way, because I have my own confession, and you’re going to hear it.” Lost and unafraid to show it, L looked up into the scorching, cinnamon blaze towering above him.

“I hate you , L, more than I’ve ever hated anyone in my entire life. I despise you even more than Kira, and wanna know why?” Bending over, Light grasped the older man’s chin in a mockery of a lover’s touch, “Because at least he isn’t afraid of letting me know just how little I mean to him.” Dropping his face just as quickly as he picked it up, Light turned on his heel and strode his way toward his bedroom once more. 

L could only watch as Light slammed the door behind him and locked it with a resounding click , leaving L with only his thoughts and an open palm.

Chapter Text

“Nighttime, boys! If I don’t see you in your beds, you can kiss your meals tomorrow goodbye!”

Light, already in his poor excuse of a bed, flinched at the loud shout and raised his hackles for each stomp that came closer and closer to his cell. As the authoritarian warden made his disgusting sneer visible to the barred window, the man did his best to appear asleep. Unfortunately, the tattered blanket he was hiding in did little to hide his shivers. Whether he was trembling from fear or the cold, Light couldn’t tell you. Even with his eyes closed, he could practically see the warden’s lips curl up into a nasty snarl. He heard the bastard mutter under his breath something about “criminal scum.” It was comically cruel, and if Light weren’t experiencing it, he would’ve laughed.

Of course, uttering expletives wasn’t enough for the guy, as he also slammed shut the gate in front of the window. Without meaning to, Light was startled at the noise and yelped in the process, much to the amusement of the warden as he chuckled outside the door. Light huddled into himself, finding he was all of a sudden sat up. His head touched his knees as he did his best not to panic or cry. The complete and utter shame he felt crawled from his head and endlessly down his back, causing him to shiver harder than before. Light doesn’t think he can get used to being humiliated so constantly.

Today was definitely worse than the others. The warden, as far as Light knows, doesn’t concern himself with the prisoner population, leaving the different checking times to his guards, but there was something about today that made the man suddenly grace everyone with his presence. Specifically, grace Light with his unfortunate presence. He woke up being splashed with ice water, guards guffawing as they held the bucket, and the warden, his alarm clock, shouted at Light to get up for a cell check. Confused and scared, Light remembered jumping off the bed immediately, only to be shoved to the floor on the insistence that they start with a cavity search.

It was a blatant abuse of power; a complete mockery of justice. And if the world was the slightest bit fair, those men would’ve been set ablaze the moment Light wished it. The brunette swears his bed is still freezing wet from the water.

To make matters worse, the warden spent the rest of the day encouraging his guards to inconvenience Light in any way possible. At the cafeteria hall, he’d interrupt Light while he was in line to force his guards to move him all the way to the back, several times over. In the recreation room, where Light is already bothered enough by the other prisoners, the warden stopped by intermittently to openly interrogate the brunette on how Kira’s powers worked, or if he would kill anyone in the room, much to the displeasure of the room’s occupants. He had the bruises to show for it. And finally, while Light had no proof it was the warden who came up with this idea, when he was in the showers, a few guards grabbed him and locked him outside into the hallway, where he was soaking wet and nude. He’d never been so humiliated in his life, the laughter from the prisoners inside the shower room and gawking in the hall were the backdrop to his misery. 

Light shivered once more and tugged the blanket closer to his core. He was frigid just thinking about it. The brunette doesn’t think he has ever met anyone as petty as the warden.

Well…anyone besides L.

This whole experience is proof of how petty the detective was. Light had already figured out this was just another one of his tests. Honestly, after everything they’ve been through, L just had to pull the wool over his eyes one last time. Light couldn’t tell if he was fighting off a smile or a sob. Truthfully, the thought of L was the only thing keeping him sane in this prison. He thought about the older man’s eyes, his voice, and that insufferable smirk he made when he thought he was right. Light couldn’t wait to punch it the next time he saw him. Or maybe kiss it, who knows?

He may love the man, but that didn’t exonerate him after pulling this damn trick. 

In any case, Light was going to be the one who came out on top after all this blew over. Once again, he’ll prove to L that he’s not Kira and everything will come back to normal. No more douchebag guards, shitty food, or ugly fucking wardens. The brunette could feel himself getting giddier the more he thought about leaving. Unlike last time he was in a crappy cell, Light could move around, so this wasn’t going to be much harder to power through. He could do this.

But of course, his giddiness started dying away to resignation as he lied down and tucked himself into bed. There was no tangled mop of black hair to brush his fingers through, no warm body to press his body against, and no mess of limbs clutching onto him like an octopus. Future success aside, this entire thing was still miserable, and even worse, lonely.

However, Light needed to remain optimistic. Sooner or later, L would come straight through those doors, tell him this was all an elaborate plan to test if he was Kira, congratulate Light on proving his innocence, get punched or kissed, and they’d leave this place together and never look back. It was only a matter of time. 

Light could feel his eyes closing with the thought, the fatigue from today’s events slithering in to collect its dues. All he needed to do was hold out and he’d see L again. That’s it.

Hold out and he’d see L.

Hold out and he’d see L…

Hold out and…see L…

Hold…and…

see…

…L.

『••✎••』

It had been 4 days since the incident and both the investigation and investigators were caught in a standstill. It was like the floor was no longer made of polished tiles but rather thin, cracked glass and everyone was afraid to step on it. The day after Light’s blowout, the man in question didn’t even show up at headquarters, preferring to stay in his room no matter how hard L or Mello knocked on the door. This not only made the case stall, but it also made everyone feel as useless as Light called them when they didn’t understand how to move forward. L didn’t want to be cliche and describe Light as the elephant in the room, so he’d rather compare the situation instead to there being a very large house fire on the upper floor that everyone wanted to pretend didn’t exist. In any case, Light decided to mercifully (or perhaps ruthlessly) put them out of their misery the next day when he did arrive at work.

He was subdued and quiet for the most part. L believes that the man is just as unwilling as they all are in re-addressing the issue, not because any of them had nothing to say, but rather because no one knew how to say it. Mello brought it up once when he was in a rather cantankerous mood, yet all Light had to say was that the conversation was distracting from the real danger that was Kira. In a lot of ways, the brunette was correct, but L held the opinion that not talking about it was the real reason everything was moving slowly. Being scared of confrontation himself, the detective didn’t bring it up.

Of course, knowing the other man intimately (many would argue too much so), L could tell something was on Light’s mind besides emotional baggage. And while L held that premonition, nothing could have prepared him for it to rear its ugly head on this day.

He was pouring honey into his tea, watching it slowly meld and mix into the dark color and swirl into a warm, familiar shade that held memories of long-gone passion. Maybe if he looked close enough, L would see the tea blink back at him and the cup eddy into a pleasant smile. Feeling discomforted by his fantasies, L instead turned his gaze to the inhospitable glow of his computer. Ironically, the characters and numbers on his screen also began to mush together into an incoherent mess. It seemed nothing was going to go his way today. L sighed, he was having trouble focusing again, but it was nothing a little more sugar couldn’t fix. Picking up the honey jar once more, L sloshed his tea with the viscous amber.

He glanced to the side, where a cinnamon gaze met his and forced his heart to stutter.

“L,” The gaze whispered to him, (except not really because there was a mouth on the face it was connected to), “can I ask you something?” 

Finding himself lost, L whispered back, “Yes, what is it?”

“Can you…let me see the death note?”

Well, that knocked him back into orbit.

His mouth now stuttered, “E-Excuse me?”

Everything suddenly sucked back into frame. The headquarters, the other task force members, and Light’s complete body now recognized by L’s brain. His mind not hesitating, Light continued speaking, “There he is, I was wondering where you went. So is it a yes or no?” For a brief second, L let himself believe that Light was simply requesting to see the death note as a way of snapping him out of his brain fog, but alas, the second half of his phrase killed that relief. 

Getting a sinking feeling in his gut, L tried his best to stall, for purposes he wasn’t even completely sure of. “For what reason? We’ve told Light-kun the rules very explicitly in the past. Is he having trouble remembering? I can recite them once more.” What on earth was wrong with him? It wasn’t like before , Light was undeniably cleared of being Kira, and yet, L’s hands slightly shook with his cup. His throat began bobbing with nervousness and he could feel his brow pinch involuntarily.

Light, checking the death note, touching it with his bare hands, the thought was anxiety-inducing enough to warrant its own heart attack, no Kira necessary. 

Still, noticing Light’s eyes slowly pinch in irritation, L could find no reasonable explanation to deny the other. “Right, that’s right.” He breathed in and swiveled his chair around to face everyone else, “Matsuda, please accompany Watari to bring out the notebook.” 

Matsuda showed more shock than L, “W-What?! Are you sure?” L simply glared. “I-I mean, I’m on it! Don’t worry, ha-!” The officer jumped from his seat and followed Watari out of the room. A few minutes passed as L did his best to tuck his unwarranted fear away. Much to his annoyance, Light’s hair blocked any facial expressions that could give a hint as to what he was thinking. Once Watari returned, Mastuda in tow, Light was already standing up and snatching it out of the elder gentleman's hands before anyone could blink. L’s countenance was still schooled but he could hear everyone else collectively suck in a breath. As was usually the case with Light, nobody was capable of saying anything.

The man strode directly back to his computer, flipping through the rules and pages with an intense but swift focus. And yet, as one-track-minded as Light appeared, L could tell the notebook wasn’t his end goal. Seemingly filled with an untameable energy, the brunette refused to sit down as his fingers fluttered on his keyboard. L heard the younger man mutter to himself, an adorably familiar noise, as he typed and typed.

All warm feelings died at the regrettably recognizable pictures on the screen. Once again, within the same damn week, L was forced to see Misa Amane’s fucking face. The detective wasn’t an overtly violent person, yet the urge to find the woman and strangle her was strong. The sight of the shinigami at Misa’s unknowing beck and call was another agitation to his ire. Not willing to let the insufferable blonde plague his thoughts anymore, L looked away.

It didn’t last long, however, when Light’s shocked inhale made his heart go cold. He looked back. With a small grin but desperate eyes, L could tell the man was miserably ecstatic to finally see a shinigami. Concentrating, the detective perked his ears enough to hear the brunette whisper to himself, “...A s-shinigami, so t-they are real…how…?” L usually holds anything Light says at the highest value than anyone else, but he could tell these utterances did not hold weight beyond natural shock. Still, he kept listening and mentally taking notes.

When Light suddenly went cold and silent, L took note of that as well. He scooted his chair over and regarded the death note with his own eyes. He tried not to let the image of Light gripping the open notebook so tightly make him more uncomfortable than it already did. The silence got to L, and he spoke, “Is Light-kun finished?” 

The detective expected the younger man at this point to get irritated and make things difficult, like hoard the book or start yelling, but what he didn’t expect was for Light to abruptly shove the death note into L’s hands with a smirk on his face. “Yup, that’s all I needed to see.” 

Taken aback, the older man squinted his eyes skeptically, “Really? That’s it?”

“Mhm,” the other hummed, still standing as he raised his arms to stretch, “In fact, I think I’ve had enough work for today. I think I’m going to turn in early.” The brunette turned and started to amble his way to the stairs. Unfortunately and as usual, certain people started taking issues.

“Fuckin’ excuse me? Weren’t you the guy giving us shit for leaving early? What’s with the sudden swap, huh?” Mello crosses his arms, agitated by the lack of progress in the case and looking for something to sink his teeth in. Surprisingly, Light didn’t match the blonde's anger with his own. Instead, he shrugged nonchalantly, “While that may be true, I’m also the guy who had 5 years of his early adulthood wasted. Unlike the rest of you, I deserve some leisure time. I think I’ll go jump in a puddle, or go to the club and get wasted. I’ll decide in the shower.” 

Matsuda's eyes dived to the floor in anxiety, “Are you…sure that’s a good idea? I-I mean, hasn’t it been a while since you’ve been in…public?” A dangerous scowl met that question, courtesy of Light. “The fuck are you trying to say? That I can’t handle it?” 

The officer jumped and raised his hands to placate, “N-No–! Not at all! In fact, forget I said anything! It was just a joke anyway.” He punctuated the sentence with a typical scratch on the back of his neck. Seemingly appeased, Light held his head up hauntingly and continued to make his rather dramatic exit. The honey must’ve stuck his tongue to the roof of his mouth because L found himself struggling to open his mouth and speak.

Soichiro didn’t seem to have that problem, and while the man appeared to become more and more resigned as the days went by, he still left Light with one last dialogue as the brunette left. “Light…please, be careful out there. And, try to come back before midnight.”

Scoffing in contempt, Light didn’t bother to answer. 

There was a rock in L’s stomach where there should’ve been tiramisu, wagashi, and strawberry shortcake. He needed to do something about this. While the detective was hesitant to continue pressing Light every time he defied the status quo, he was also scared for the other’s safety. He neglected the younger man before, he wouldn’t let it happen again.

It had only been a minute by the time L resolved himself. He got out of his crouch to stand up and shuffle away from everyone else, “I think I will be turning in early as well.” That’s all the explanation they needed.

“Yeah, yeah, just remind Light to watch his drink if he goes clubbing.” Matt snorted back. L sent him a dirty look but didn’t deny the veiled comment. Mello, ever the confrontational one, seemed to be now avoiding looking at the detective instead of making a snide remark. 

Maybe if he tried hard enough, L could convince Light to at least allow the detective to accompany him. For his safety, obviously, and nothing else. 

『••✎••』

L knocked and knocked to his heart’s content, Light wasn’t answering the door. The detective knew for a fact he was in there, the brunette was just ignoring him for the sake of pettiness. 

“Light-kun? Let me in. I would like to discuss a few things before you leave.”

Nothing.

Huffing, L was once again forced to use his key card. He hoped this wouldn’t become a habit, it was bad enough that L was constantly having to chase Light down. Once he heard the beep of the door, L stepped inside. The room was noticeably warmer than the hallway.

“Apologies for the intrusion, Light-kun,” L stepped over a smashed vase and torn pillow, swallowing a little, “but nobody was answering the door.”

L could hear the shower turn on. Stalking to the open bedroom door, Light crossed his arms, red in the face with anger, “What the fuck, L?! There’s a reason I wasn’t opening the damn door! Get the hell out!” L hooked his thumb into his mouth and crooked his head, “I assumed Light-kun was showering and that’s why he wasn’t answering the door.” 

The brunette approached L and started shoveling him back to the front door, “As if I’m gonna believe that! If I didn’t want to open the door, that means I don’t want to see your goddamn face! How’s that so difficult to understand?” Stumbling a little, the detective tripped on his next words, “W-Won’t Light-kun want to at least hear what I have to say–?” 

Still pushing him, Light barked his rebuttal, “Nope, not even a little.” There wasn’t much time left. L was almost out the door, and so he started putting weight into his feet as retaliation. Light grumbled as he attempted to exert more force, with little success. “Please, Light-kun, I’m only concerned about your safety.” 

Suddenly, the shoving stopped, and L felt Light’s hot breath on his neck as he sighed. The brunette stepped back and blew his hair out of his eyes, “Well, that’s a first. But I’m not a child, L, I can handle myself just fine. Why’s everyone acting like it’s such a big deal? It’s condescending.” He crossed his arms again and looked to the floor, almost sullen. L noticed the younger man’s eyes trail to the aforementioned vase and pillow and he appeared remorseful at their state. L didn’t know the story of their disarray, and he wasn’t going to ask. He already had a few guesses.

“I understand Light-kun feels that way, and I’m not trying to imply that Light-kun is weak. I’m simply concerned that he’s moving too fast in his pursuit of the outside world. Being around people after 5 years of isolation is a big leap.” 

The other scoffed, “See, you say that you don’t think I’m weak, but then you go on and say in the same breath that I’m incapable of being around others, so which is it?”

“Anyone can get overwhelmed, regardless of their strength. Light-kun is putting words in my mouth. It’s never even crossed my mind that you’re weak. To tell you the truth, I think you’re rather very strong.” Maybe that was too much too soon. Around Light, sometimes L’s thoughts slip without permission. His eyes becoming more raw, Light picked his gaze off from the floor and back at L.

“I’ve been handling being around other people, haven’t I?” His voice was starting to rise, “I’m not going to get scared off like I’m some child .” 

Even L couldn’t hold back a snort at that, “Really? That’s what’s been happening these past few days? I’m not one for socialization, but even I’m aware that your interactions with the rest of us have been anything but handled, ” Before Light could blow up on him, L quickly added, “Not that we haven't deserved it, but Light-kun understands where I’m coming from. Besides, the Kira investigation and the outside world are two completely different things.”

His face scrunching like he was holding back tears, Light turned around to face the wall instead. “Yeah, I think I know that more than anyone.” He whispered joylessly. L’s heart sank and he shuffled to the other man to gently place his hand on the brunette’s shoulder. “I don’t want to fight. So, how about this? I’ll meet you halfway; you can go out so long as you promise me that you’ll call Watari for help if the situation arises. Please.” 

Facing him, their noses nearly bumping, Light’s voice was cold with venom, “What? Like how you promised me that we had a future together? You have absolutely no say on whether I can or can’t leave this building or investigation altogether, L.”

Those words hurt and even more so when they were paired with the bubbling vitriol in Light’s expression, but despite that, L didn’t back away from the fire. Light deserved to not be scorned for every negative emotion he experiences, especially so when the person receiving that negativity earned it. The detective…needed to remember that more. And so, while he wanted to back away and push with unjust anger, he stayed put and let himself get burned. 

In the background, the pitter-patters of the distant shower echoed. It sounded like rain. 

Witnessing something in L’s expression that the detective couldn’t see, Light breathed in and out slowly, his body unwinding. “Fine, I’ll call Watari if something happens.”

L wanted to insist on the other to promise, to swear that he’d truly call his guardian in the time of an emergency, but he kept his mouth sealed. Tenderly squeezing the shoulder his hand was still on, L managed a small smile, “Thank you, Light-kun.”

It was enough.

『••✎••』

A few hours later, when the rest of the task force had already retired for the night, L was sitting in his bed going over the case once more on his laptop. His only companion was a bag of gummy worms as he poured over every detail again and again. There had to be something he missed, something he might’ve overlooked…

A persistent buzz emanated from his pocket. 

Curiously, L fished his burner phone out of his jeans and answered. “Yes, hello?”

There was a near imperceptible voice, “...L?” 

For once, L absolutely hated being proven right.

L launched from his bed immediately, he knew that voice, as frail as it was. It wasn’t his habit, but L began pacing around his bedroom. Something must’ve gone wrong. “Light, what’s going on? Did something happen? Have you called Watari yet?” 

A few heavy breaths, “Y-Yes…I did, but I-I…”  

Since this was an emergency, Watari must be on his way to Light’s location. Maybe if L moved quickly enough, he could catch the elder before he left and go with him. L dug into his rarely-used closet to find his shoes. He didn’t want to rush the man, but if the brunette was injured, L needed to know, “Breathe, Light, did Watari say he was coming to pick you up?” Digging his feet into his rugged sneakers, ignoring how uncomfortable they were, L also grabbed his only jacket, a long, green one to wear. The detective nearly fell to the floor making his exit. 

“H-He did, but L…I need you, ple-please come here…”

He ran to the closest elevator, “Are you somewhere safe, Light?” He dug out his other burner phone and texted Watari to not leave without him. Once he was assured by the elder, L exhaled deeply and calmly spoke, “Please, answer me.”

More heavy breathing, and L heard what could’ve been the scratch of concrete, “I d-don’t know, I think I’m s-somewhere in Roppongi…? I-I can’t remember…” That’s no good. What if Light was drugged? Or concussed? Maybe he should’ve told the man to watch his drink like Matt suggested, double meaning aside. “Did Watari tell you he traced your location?”

“Yes, h–he did. B-But you’re coming too, right? L, please tell me you're coming–!” The younger man was now yelling and his voice sounded nothing less than hysterical. If L didn’t calm him down, Light was at a higher risk of getting hurt, more so if he wasn’t already.

Rushing out of the elevator to the limo parked and ready at the garage, L wasted no time in buckling himself into the back seat and ordering Watari to drive. “Light, I’m on my way right now. Everything’s going to be okay. Do you think you can tell me what happened?” 

“I-I c-can’t–! I can’t–! L, please help me!” Besides the evident hysteria, there was no denying that Light was also sobbing on the other side of the phone call. It wrenched L’s heart to the most bitter cold. “Please, calm yourself, Light, any minute now I’m going to be there. Are you hurt? I need to know.” L, finding himself helpless, bit into the cuticle on his left thumb. 

Something shuffled on the other end, “N-No, I’m not hurt. B-But L, y-you were right…There were s-so many people and it was too loud and I couldn’t breathe and they touched me and everything was—” L interjected to stop the man from panicking himself further, “It’s okay, Light, it’s over now. Are you still around anybody? Perhaps somebody who could help?” 

“NO–!” L flinched from the screech and accidentally bit hard enough into his thumb to cause bleeding. Light continued, “I c-can’t, L, I can’t–! I can’t be around anyone, please don’t m-make me, L, please!” L unbuckled himself immediately, launching himself to every window in the car to search for the other regardless of how far he knew he still was. “I’m not going to make you do anything, Light, you’re going to be fine, just breathe for me. Please .” Knowing he was dealing with a panic attack rather than an assault, the lack of memory and unrestrained stuttering were explained, which slightly relieved L. He didn’t have to arrest anyone over taking care of Light tonight.

“No, no, no–! I can’t, L, please, please don’t leave me I’m begging you–!” Additionally, the nonsensical fears were also solved. There was nothing in this conversation that would logically allow Light to believe he would ever do such a thing. He was inventing problems that didn’t exist. At least, the detective didn’t think they did.

“I wouldn’t dream of it. Just hold on a bit longer, Light, I’m almost there.” L noticed Watari slow down on the curb. Unwilling to wait any longer, L unlocked the door and leaped out before the limo even fully stopped. He turned his head left and right, lost on where to go. Watari rolled down his window and calmly spoke, “He should be two buildings down on your left. He’s in an alley. Do be careful.”

Light wasn’t screaming anymore, “L…where a-are you…?”

Panting from the amount of energy he was spending, L nearly ran into a brick wall in his race to reach his other half. The neon lights of the different buildings surrounding him nearly blinded him, but L didn’t let any of them stop him. His body reflected blue, green, and purple, but what he was searching for was fiery cinnamon and more vibrant than any of the colors in the world. 

Once he reached the designated spot, L paused and approached slowly. A lone figure was hunched in the corner, tucked behind a dumpster, and shaking uncontrollably. The thumping music emerging from the building beside them was perfectly in step with L’s beating heart. Now that he was present, L hung up the phone with a disquieting beep. The figure flinched at the noise.

Not wanting to cause further stress, L called out quietly to the younger man.

“Light…?”

A sniffle, and strands of tangled, brown locks fell as Light slowly looked up. 

“Y-You're here…?”

Chapter Text

His son.

His son was coming back.

His son wasn’t Kira.

The nightmare…was actually ending.

Those thoughts circled endlessly in Soichiro’s mind as he sat alone in the living room. His soft-spoken wife, his one and only, had directed him to the couch once he broke the news. Sayu has yet to look him in the eye. He couldn’t blame her, even just glancing at himself in the bathroom was a near impossible task. It was early enough in the morning that it was still dark outside, but it made no difference to the chief.

No matter what time of day, he could never sleep.

There was a polite knock on the door.

The stretch of time from the couch cushions to the door was a blurry stumble. Fumbling the door handle to turn, Soichiro’s bespectacled gaze met with another. Watari stood outside, folded umbrella in hand. His trimmed mustache, juxtaposing Soichiro’s disheveled, bushy one, quirked up in a small smile. A gingerly cough interceded, “I don’t suppose you’ll let me in, will you?”

He slowly blinked once, twice, and stepped aside to allow entry.

“I apologize for the slow welcome, c-can I offer you any coffee? Tea?” It was usually Sachiko who greeted guests, so Soichiro found himself at a loss. It was even more jarring to see a face he had once hoped to never see again within an inch of his life. By all things holy, he almost exchanged fists with the man just five years ago.

Five years…His son, Light…

Watari cordially raised his hand as he slipped off his dress shoes, “There’s no need, Yagami-san, I’m already handled. I believe it is most prudent we move on to the task ahead.” 

The older man spoke in a way that made even Soichiro feel much younger and denser than he really was. “Right, o-of course. Come with me, please.” 

Soft footsteps followed Soichiro as he made his way upstairs.

A dim light emitted from the gap of his bedroom door at the end of the hall. A silently devastating sight; the image of his wife being in there alone crushing him into something new. Noticing his daughter’s light also on, Soichiro swiftly turned his body to face his son’s room lest he break down in front of professional company. He coughed to cover a sob, “I-It’s this one, here.” 

Watari nodded, already knowing that from the time he bugged the house with wiretaps and cameras. “This shouldn’t take long, Yagami-san.” Gently, the chief opened the door. The two older gentlemen immediately caught a whiff of dust and old books that breached into the hallway.

Stacks upon stacks of cardboard boxes rested on the wooden floor of the abandoned room. The bed was no longer that, but rather a dusty mattress atop a skinned bed frame. Strangely, the sliding door to the balcony was slightly ajar, allowing the pale blue, shear curtains to waft in the delicate breeze flowing in. There were no longer any books on the several shelves that encompassed the room, instead they were all laid dormant in the several boxes shoved into the farthest corner and labeled appropriately. The laptop, the lamp, and the small TV Light once did an entire summer of odd jobs around the neighborhood to afford was gone. Soichiro stood in complete silence as he could only take in the room’s robbed personality and history. He hadn’t visited the room in years, treating its existence as a tomb to the boy he once knew, once raised. 

That had been a mistake.

Slightly shuffling him to the side, Watari softly sighed as he made his way to the closet door and opened it. “Ah, his clothes seem to have also been moved, hm.” Soichiro felt that he was inconveniencing the older man. “I apologize, my wife must’ve put them into some of these boxes. They’re labeled, so it shouldn’t take too long to find them.” He said, already moving to one of the stacks to inspect them, “I’ll be on this side of the room, you check the other.” 

Watari nodded with no sign of dissent at taking orders from somebody besides his charge. Sniffling at the dust already floating around and nothing else, Soichiro opened the first box labeled ‘clothes’. Unfortunately, just by glancing inside, he could tell the garments within would be of little use. Still though, Soichiro’s body moved of its own accord as he dug into the box.

The first article of clothing was Light’s elementary graduation gown, cap and all. Soichiro remembered that day very well, despite his increasing age. His son, as he was top of his class even back then, was selected to give the departure speech to the weeping, but proud parents of the audience. Many of the adults had turned to him and Sachiko, remarking how poise and eloquent their boy was, with his sophisticated vocabulary that would have even high schoolers scratching their heads. The next day at the station, Soichiro remembered how sore his face was from smiling so strongly during the entire event.

Rubbing his eyes, the chief gently lifted the outfit and situated it on the empty desk next to him. He dug deeper inside the box, regardless of how much his gut told him it would do no good. There were small t-shirts, trousers, and socks that somehow were strong enough to have held Soichiro’s entire world. He remembered each and every one of them. Getting closer to the bottom of the box, there was a slight crinkle he heard from moving the clothes around. Soichiro braced himself as he fished for the paper inside. 

Pulling it out, the chief had to bite on his knuckle to prevent his grief from escaping his lips. It was a drawing. A picture Light drew sometime in 1st grade, judging by the date in Sachiko’s handwriting on the back. There were uneven, but purposeful strokes littering the page into the vibrant forms of the Yagami family. In the middle was Light, tiny in the way he was at that age and with eyes far too big. He was drawn to be holding his little sister's hand, who was also depicted to be holding Sachiko’s. They were all smiling. 

“Yagami-san? I found his clothes. I have noted the measurements and style of clothing. Thank you for letting me into your home.”

And on the other side, grasping Light’s other hand, was the crude sketch of Soichiro. Instead of eyes, big frames encapsulated his face. And instead of a grin, a bushy, curved mustache replaced his lips. 

“...Yagami-san?”

He was the only one not smiling in the picture.

“Oh dear…” 

Unable to keep himself standing and strong, Soichiro felt his knees meeting the floor in a sudden slam. He refused to let his eyes remove themselves from the drawing. The chief’s grip tightened as hard as it could without crinkling the paper. 

His babies, his wife…his family…Light…

All of it ruined, because of him. 

All because he existed in their lives.

There was a hand on his shoulder, but nothing mattered when his whole family hated him. His son, across the world and irrevocably ruined by his betrayal. His wife and daughter, hiding away in their rooms just to break away from his poison. He did this to them, nobody else. 

The world faded away in waves as his body pulsed with gasping breaths that choked out of his mouth. Everything was blurry, but not because his glasses were smudged. His brain hardly registered the fact that he was crying now. 

In his best ability with tears gushing in and out of his vision, Soichiro traced the messy smiles with his eyes, knowing they will never be directed at him ever again.

『••✎••』

“Y-You’re here…?” 

L panted, “That’s right, like I said I would.” He planted his feet until Light indicated he wanted his approach. While already slouching, the detective hunched further to cultivate an even more nonaggressive stature. There were visible tear lines running down the others face, which he must’ve noticed the same time as L did as he rapidly yet feebly rubbed his eyes. He quietly croaked, “...You seem to be real…” 

Their gazes searched one another, onyx seeking in concern while cinnamon guarded. No visible signs of injury or intoxication, everything seemed clear…L couldn’t help himself as his eyes drifted up and down Light’s body. While bony and bruised, the way his clothes hugged his body and complimented the brunette’s natural features still caught his attention. The younger man wore appropriate clothing for the club, a black button-up underneath a maroon, ribbed sweater and tucked into dark and tight jeans that were embellished with a silver chain. Even enervated, Light could look like a supermodel. But in any case, those thoughts L had were hardly here nor there. 

Something simultaneously brightened and darkened in Light’s visage as his body slowly unwinded. The brunette shakily inhaled and exhaled, intermittently pulling himself together. L maintained his position as he tried but failed to not continue staring at Light during the whole process. He didn’t want to hope, but perhaps his presence was enough for the other to calm down, seeing as his presumed panic attack was already dying down. It was egregious wishful thinking, and yet L couldn’t keep his heart from thumping extra loudly at the thought. 

A wobbly breath, a depressed chuckle, “I-I see now…so you’ll keep your word, but only if…” The younger man drifted off, his eyebrows scrunching and his palm curling in on itself as it braced against the brick wall. Perceptibly deciding something, Light grunted as he swung his body upwards to lean on the dumpster beside him. L took a step forward and reached out his hand, “Do you need help?” 

The brunette gazed at his outstretched hand with the visible compulsion to spit on it. Still though, Light hesitated for a moment before snarking, “I don’t need your fucking help.” L sighed, struggling to connect this Light to the one crying for him on the phone just minutes prior. “Very well,” The detective looked out to the entrance of the alley, “I’ll fetch Watari to bring the car closer, don’t move from—” “No–! Don’t you dare leave! J-Just give me a moment!” His previous aggressive attitude turned desperate as Light suddenly sprung himself forward and away from his support. Not wanting the brunette to trip himself, L quickly hovered even closer just in case, “Don’t rush, take all the time you need. I’ll text Watari instead.” 

He pulled out his burner phone and texted his mentor, shoving it back into his pocket immediately after without waiting for a reply. Light huddled into his body, breathing heavily and determined to calm himself without any input from the other man despite his supposedly necessary presence. L’s head spun from the many conflicting signals being shot at him with both confusion and intrigue. Leave it to Light to find a way to concurrently push him away and pull him back. 

“Okay, okay…I’m ready to go.” Without asking, Light clutched onto L’s sleeve as he uttered those words. It didn’t escape the detective’s notice that Light’s hand twitched every time L’s wrist even so much as drifted to the clenched grip. He didn’t want to break the calm now settling over them, so he simply nodded in response and began moving. Accommodating the other’s current sensitivity, L walked slowly so as to prevent the two from bumping into each other. 

And they retained that careful distance all the way to the car and through headquarters. 

『••✎••』

Their synchronized footsteps rang in the impersonal hallway of their floor. Headquarters was never meant to be taken in as a welcoming atmosphere, but as L glanced side-to-side, he found himself wishing there were at least some paintings on the walls to soothe the anxiety bubbling in his stomach. Although, that could’ve also just been the pop rocks he ate in the limo earlier, so who was L to say? 

The increasingly familiar image of Light’s door in his face greeted the two as L cleared his throat to break the silence, “Here we are.” The detective turned to his former suspect as he received, expectedly, no response. Light stood beside him, his head held low. L turned to leave, ready for the night to end, “I suppose I’ll see you in the morning, Light-kun.” 

Out of the blue, a warm hand fully grasped his wrist, “Wait,” the body connected to the hand said, softening its grip to slip under his long sleeve and slowly caressing his arm, “do…you want to come in?” 

L remained still, and if he were anybody else, his mouth would be gaped open in shock. Instead, as is commonplace with his stoic demeanor, L’s eyes simply widened. Light was willingly asking for his help? Was he dreaming? The detective quickly readied himself for possible disaster. He wasn’t one to look a gift horse in the mouth, but it was never good to rush progress this monumental. The older man responded hesitantly, “Does Light-kun need help with something?”

The brunette pursed his lips, still refusing to look at him, “Yes, I…” Light tucked the arm in his grasp closer to his chest, “Please, just, come inside, L, please. ” 

Unfamiliar with how to approach the evolving situation, the older man cautiously nodded and allowed himself to be guided into the room. Nothing was making sense anymore, Light’s moods were changing faster than he could keep up with and he never encountered this suddenly supplicative behavior towards him since the brunette’s release. What would Watari say? Well, he'd likely tell L to accommodate whatever the other’s needs were, to both display L’s trustworthiness and unearth some camaraderie between them. Simple enough, L supposes. 

The door closes shut behind them. 

He looked around, the appearance of the room hadn't changed. There was still the torn pillow and its partner, the broken vase, so at least that stayed consistent—

A sudden tug on the collar of his shirt collided him into a warm body. A hand tightly curled around his cheek to the back of his neck. L tried to open his mouth to question the growing escalation of the situation, but before he could, another pair of lips met his, silencing him immediately. 

If the world didn’t make sense earlier, then it was utterly torn to shreds and burnt to a crisp now.

His mind froze in the face of this fire. Abruptly, he felt his back straighten to further press his body into the warmth wrapping him around its pinkie. And then, on an instinct he thought he long buried, L’s palms found their way to Light’s hips and waist, steadying himself in the swirl of heat and confusion he suddenly found himself in. The detective could feel Light’s fingers dig and coil into his hair with an intensity and fashion he had no idea he missed as badly as he did in this moment. It had been too long, so endlessly long, when and why did anything ever matter more than this? 

The ever-present chill in his chest that had been aching for 5 years was now boiling. L was convinced he could physically feel his pupils widen in the face of the intense intimacy he was experiencing, that he was touching—God, he and Light were—

Just as quickly as it came, L felt the pressure on his mouth detach, creating room between he and the brunette’s faces and allowing the biting air to come between them. The sight of Light's lips, mockingly twitching into a smirk, was all he could see anymore. 

No, no, no, this was everything L wanted—needed—he couldn’t just let it end.

Immediately, the detective yanked the face back to his own. The sensation and sound of their teeth clacking doing nothing to sway him as he dug his tongue into that fucking smirk and demanded re-entry. A low chuckle, one that sounded awfully like a cry, was the only other sound L heard as his mouth bulldozed and took and took and took.  

To hell with the investigation, to hell with Kira—this was perfect, this was paradise, wrapping him in an encompassing warmth he could no longer live without. He hoped Light felt this euphoria he was dosed with, that they were both burning together, that he…

He…

The body his was leeching off of was…shivering.

Something was wrong.

Halting all movement, L slowly unstuck himself from Light, holding the younger man away by his upper arms. While his face seemed all more than willing; his mouth, red and bitten, shaped into a sardonic grin and his eyes gleaming with a voracious sparkle, there was an unmistakable showmanship about it. And L only figured out what was hiding behind the stage curtains once he felt the arms under his tight grip tremble with every amount of pressure the older man used. 

Oh, no…

To hell with L.

He stepped back as quickly as his brain allowed him. He couldn’t help the question from quietly slipping out of his lips, “What the hell am I doing…?”

Light laughed again, the same way he did earlier, as the brunette swiftly removed the space between them to clutch at L’s shirt once again. Except this time, his head tucked into L’s neck to nip at it, whispering into it, “Whatever you want, of course.” The world froze. It was the way he said it, both attempting to be seductive while imposing the statement as a forgone conclusion, like L’s very being centered around reckless abandon, that made his blood go frigid. A mirror was being shoved in his face and as much as L wants to say this wasn’t his fault, that he was simply caught in the heat at the moment, another part of him knew it was a completely bold-faced lie.

A pant, not from desire, but rather near-concealed anxiety echoed in his ear, “C’mon, don’t you still want me?” L wished he could say his first thought was ‘No, I should leave and we shall never let this happen again.’ But that would be yet another lie. Instead, L was just as evil, as cruel, and as self-interested as Light had been saying. Instead, ‘Yes,’ L wanted to say, ‘more than anything.’

It would just be so easy to say that. To let it happen. To give in. But it would be so incredibly wrong and abhorrent to do so. And it wouldn’t be fair to Light. The young man may be saying yes, but he was vulnerable, he was broken, he’d be hurt and regretting it later, and so would L once all was said and done.

The detective battled against how still his body was yearning and burning from Light’s teasing pecks, and he pushed back once more, determined to keep them far apart. The detective swallowed the bitter pill stuck in his throat, “It wouldn’t matter if I did, you don’t, so this is going to no longer continue.” 

The brunette scoffed and reached for L again. Expecting it, L stepped out of reach as gracefully as he could. A scorned look breached a beautiful face, “Oh, don’t tell me what I want, L. I know what I want! And I know what you want. So, what’s the fucking issue?” In typical fashion, Light crossed his arms in escalating fury, and if this were any other day, L would’ve quirked his lips at the gesture. However, all L felt like doing was sawing his mouth off for enjoying how they felt, red and bitten the same as Light’s. 

In this moment, L had a choice to make, he could either make his exit out of the room and pretend this never happened, or he could attempt to bring closure to Light with new boundaries they needed to establish immediately. Personally, L was getting tired of letting things fester, so he decided there would be change here and now. He took a deep breath, and calmly spoke, “Light-kun, if you still need my presence, I’ll be more than happy to keep you company however long as necessary. But you must know this; I have absolutely no intention of sleeping with you. I’m not interested in using your body for pleasure of any sort, do you understand? I need you to tell me you understand.” 

Light stood, completely aghast and undeniably livid. It was as if every word that shoveled out of L’s mouth were each a slap to his face. “You’re not serious,” His hands pulled at his long hair, “You’re not…” The detective stared resolutely, leaving no room for misinterpretation, “I’m dead serious. Do you understand?”

The brunette hissed, “Don’t talk to me like I’m a damn child.” Still pulling at his locks, Light paced back and forth, noticeably debating something internally. While his hair covered most of his face as he dug his fingers into his scalp, L could see him cycling through the emotions of anger, perplexity, until finally and strangely, determination. He stopped in his tracks. The younger man made one last assessing look at L, before offering the same smirk, albeit smaller, as before. Light huffed, “Fine, I understand.”

The detective got the sense something was still off. What angle was his ex-suspect playing on? L furrowed his eyes, “So…does Light-kun still want me to stay?” 

He laughed at a joke inside his own head, “Sure! Just like the old days, Ryuzaki, let's go to bed where you can watch me sleep! I’ll feel so much safer if you do, and that’s what you care about, right? My oh-so-important safety.” L almost flinched as he spat out those last words. Light strode to the bedroom with purpose, swinging open the door and turning back with malignant eyes and a sarcastic sneer. “C’mon, don’t you want to help me? Why aren’t you moving? I thought you cared, that’s what this is all about, yeah? You care so much about poor me.” 

The borderline vituperative language sent L spinning. There was a deep bubbling in his gut that was commanding him to retaliate that the older man did his best to suffocate. The way Light threw his words back at him, like he was exposing L for being a liar when he was being as genuine as ever when he spoke them, hurt so profoundly it left him breathless. L swallowed, bracing himself to either placate or step forward and rocking between the two choices.

Light took his hesitation as justification for his continuing diatribe, “Oh, I see, so it’s not actually about helping me, but rather about making you feel good about yourself. The second your pride takes a hit, you’re ready to crawl back to your hidey-hole.” A mocking laugh, “Aw, it’s okay, Ryuzaki, not everyone is cut out to play the white knight. You can pretend in front of the others, but you know you could never lie to me. Hey, maybe instead of fooling ourselves, we could—”

L’s feet sundered themselves up and towards the brunette. While L refused to riposte with his own frustration, having learned his lesson from previous encounters, even he couldn’t help the way his face contorted into a blend of stoicism and bitterness. He stalled, a few steps away from the other man. In response to L’s sudden movement, there was a spark of fear in Light’s eyes and posture, as if he were cornered by a nightmarish beast. Instantly, the older man was glad he didn’t push back. 

“After you, Light-kun.” He murmured.

Light sized up the monster in his mind and sighed in agitation, “Right, of course.” He stomped inside while L followed silently, closing the door behind them. He couldn’t wait for this night to be over. Taking one of the previous comments to heart, L approached the bed and stepped into it. With unwelcome deja vu, the detective assumed his crouch as he leaned against the headboard. He heard a scoff and looked up. 

Light’s expression burned with outrage despite him being the one to insinuate their current scene. L felt scolded as he immediately began to sit up, only stopping once Light raised his hand to him. There was a brief pause. The brunette’s gaze fell to the floor in contemplation while his palm remained held up. The tension in the room crackled and sizzled. L held his breath. 

Reanimating himself, Light avoided looking anywhere near the detective as he made his way to his side of the bed. But instead of sliding into it like L was praying he would so that this whole ordeal would be over and done with, the younger man’s hands began to strip off his sweater and unzip his jeans. 

His face undeniably flushed, L jerked his head away, suddenly finding the bathroom and closet very interesting. Was that solid oak? Very nice, very nice.

There was another offended scoff, “Like it’s something you’ve never seen before.” Embarrassed, L felt the immature compulsion to whistle his guilt away. The sound of more clothes rustling, then abruptly the bed dipping as a warm body crawls into it. The detective sighed in relief as he turned back, “Goodnight, Light—” He choked.

Rather than wear pajamas like he should, Light elected to sleep in his birthday suit. Which, admittedly, wouldn’t have been an issue if the brunette was under the covers, but he also elected not to do that. Sensing his surprise, Light coyly spoke, “What? It’s hot in here.” 

The detective decidedly did not reply that it was 21.1 degrees Celsius in the entire building. Light already knew that, the younger man was just messing with him again. Getting into his head so he could continuously send it reeling till the day he died. L once again declined to adhere to whatever sickening thoughts Light was having to commit to doing these things. The sun may be warm, but only because it was millions of miles away, if you got too close, it’d be too late.

“Right.” He grunted in response. His brows pinching, Light shuffled closer to the detective, “But then again, the temperature could drop while I’m sleeping. Aren’t you going to keep me warm for that?” The brunette did his best to sound flirtatious, but all L heard were the echoes of his earlier rage and pain. He barely spared a glance, “Light-kun would be warmer if he wore his blanket.” 

Cinnamon eyes, entrenched in loss and burdened with pain L acknowledged but would never understand, blinked up at him once, twice in his peripheral vision. Making one last ditch effort, a shaky palm rested on L’s leg and squeezed pathetically.

The body next to him shook with confusion, anger, fear, and all of the worst things. The air was filled with indisputable mourning, but for what, L had no idea. A whimper, “L, please…” 

The older man sighed, “Goodnight, Light-kun.”

One minute turned to five in their collective silence. Giving up on his absurd mission, Light sniffled as he finally huddled himself underneath the sheets. His hand, however, didn’t cease its place on L’s leg.

His chest twisting with both monstrous guilt and perpetual relief, L gently placed his hand over Light’s and gave one firm squeeze. I got you, he hoped came across.

It could’ve been seconds, it could’ve been hours, all L knew was that Light eventually fell asleep and L never stopped holding his hand. He didn’t rest, he didn’t deserve it, but he still daydreamed about also curling into the bed so he could hold the younger man’s body. 

Still though, he was thankful he didn’t. 

Chapter Text

Poking at whatever slop was on his tray that was supposed to be food, Light’s mind was numbly blank. It has been over 4 months, specifically, 122 days, since he has been in hell. While he hasn’t cracked enough to know that number by scratching it on his cell walls, he has been endlessly counting every hour that passes, bar when he’s sleeping. Every hour that L hasn’t arrived to retrieve him. 

L…

Light’s eyes narrowed unconsciously. His plastic fork stabbed harder at his “meal.” He could feel his mind slip from its safe blankness and instead cinder with something sour. The brunette didn’t know what kind of game his supposed partner was playing at, but he had quite enough. Lips curling into an unbidden sneer, Light’s mind entertained the nasty thought that this was never a test to begin with. That this was something far more sinister…

He huffed, letting go of his pathetic utensil to instead rub at his forehead. It was best not to ruminate on things so ugly; the world was bad enough on the outside, no need to make his mind equally as horrid. If L saw him betraying his optimism like this, he’d laugh. 

Unfortunately, untensing his body at that exact moment was a mistake. A sudden bang on his table startled Light more than he’d like to admit. Looking up, the brunette was gobsmacked to see someone with a striking resemblance to said bastard detective. Of course, peering harder, he could tell them instantly apart if need be. His hair was longer and impossibly wilder, his slouched posture was more akin to a coiled spring than a haggard sloth, and his facial expression refused to stay still as it twitched from what could only be insanity. Nevertheless, the similarity put him even more at unease than the person’s uninvited presentation ever could.

“Ah, so you’re the infamous Kira! A pleasure to make your acquaintance. Rumor has it that you and L’s rivalry was legendary, which, y’know, makes me a little jealous, but I can recognize game when I see it! After all, at the end of the day, nobody will know that guy better than me, so those rumors aren’t true anyway.” 

Baffled by the sudden onslaught of an introduction handed to him, Light could barely muster his response, “I-I’m not Kira—” “Jeez, where are my manners? Name’s Beyond Birthday, or BB, but never B, please–that guy’s dead.” The man-–Beyond—rudely interrupted as he sat down across from Light, wobbling slightly as he struggled to maintain balance in the straitjacket he was wearing. 

Just who the hell did this guy think he was?

“You shy or something? A conversation requires at least two people to talk, y’know. I’ll start feeling lonely if you don’t start chatting.” A few beats passed. Turning his body slightly away, Light finally spoke, “First off, I’m not—” He was immediately interrupted again, “Then again, I don’t blame you per se, little Kira’s still a fish in this ecosystem. Poor you, dumped here like a bag of fertilizer on a fresh garden, ridden with worms and beetles. It must be worse here for you than for anyone else, right? Mister-Kills-Criminals, forced to live amongst criminals. The irony makes you wanna laugh, huh? I’ll laugh for you if you haven’t yet! Nothing forms friendship like the bond of giggles, I think Aristotle said that. What a smart guy.” 

Losing the plot, Light knew he had to grab the handle of this conversation to understand any of what this man was chattering about. As he was feeling less charitable than usual, he didn’t do it kindly, which could be a mistake considering Beyond was dangerous; He was wearing the straitjacket for a reason. “Do you ever shut the fuck up?” He spat. 

With faux puppy eyes, Beyond whined, “You shouldn’t be so rude to your new best friend, Kira-chan! After all, if you scare me away with your spooky ESP powers, you’ll be forced to make buddies with those chaps.” The strange man nudged his head to the left, and when Light’s eyes followed, he noticed many inmates leering at him non-so subtly from the other cafeteria’s tables. Filled with disgust and somehow more wary than before, the brunette turned back to his unfortunate tablemate. 

“Now, I don’t know about you, but I don’t think those guys want to play bones that aren’t yours, if you catch my meaning.” Beyond continued, winking his crazed eyes at the end. Light shivered; he knew what the other man was insinuating, and that it was a long time coming, but that didn’t stop the information from frightening him. “What…” he began, “What do you want from me?”

“Golly! Can’t a guy just want a friend? What has happened to human connection?! It’s those damn phones, I swear. Kids these days…” Light didn’t point out that Beyond hardly seemed that much older than him. “Isn’t it obvious? We share a common interest.”

“Can you be more specific?” The brunette questioned. Could it be he was proposing an escape plan? It didn’t seem possible, this place was a lot more intimidating than the movies make prisons out to be. Besides, if Light made trouble, then what if L decides he’s Kira and never comes back for him? He can’t fail this test.

As if reading his mind about the detective, Beyond leaned in conspiratorially, “Our hatred of L, of course. I heard that you killed his proxy on television because he bruised your ego, which was a damn shame, Lind was one of the few tolerable people in this place. A straight head on his shoulders, that guy.” Forgetting to deny he was Kira, Light sputtered, “Y-You hate L?”

Beyond tilted his head in amusement, “Well, hard to find anyone here who doesn’t! But you and I, we’re special. After all, we know him a bit more…personally.” Wobbling again, the other man adjusted his seating into a familiar crouch. An intimately familiar one. 

His eyes widening, “H-How…?” Light couldn’t believe what he was seeing. Beyond chuckled, “How do I know Lawlipop? How do I know you know him?” The brunette shakily nodded to both questions, not trusting his mouth to articulate the hurricane that was his mind. “Firstestly, one could say we were childhood friends. Second, I assumed so because of the way you looked at me, like I was him. It’s intentional on my part, for nostalgia nowadays, but the only way you’d think I was familiar was if you’ve seen our sugar-addicted Sherlock, right? I’m right, aren’t I? Tell me I’m right.” 

“Y-Yes, you’re right.” Light choked out. Childhood friends? This man…has met L? Known him for years? There was a brief flare of jealousy that flickered in Light’s stomach, the brunette prided himself on knowing L better than anyone, but maybe he was wrong. Remembering where he was, Light’s mind started swirling, that perhaps he had never known the detective at all. 

A chortle of laughter, “Ah, I see the betrayal in your eyes! Imagine how I feel, here I’ve been feeling all cute and special, and then, boom! The Kira case takes the world by storm, stealing the record of L’s longest case to investigate, and leaving behind a lonely Kira who cries in his sleep that L will someday come back for him!” Light was immediately unsettled once again, “How did you know—” “Shhh, baby Kira, don’t worry your little head about the hows or whys, all you need to focus on is the now! Since we’ve established our more personal vendettas—”

It was Light’s turn to interrupt, “No, we haven’t established shit! I’m not like you at all, I-I don’t hate L! He and I were—” He choked, looking down to pick at his hands instead of facing the aggravating man. “In any case, I’m not Kira, so you can take your little vendetta elsewhere, okay? We’re not friends and we won't ever be.” He glanced back up at Beyond with hidden nerves.

His face was blank. He blinked once, twice. Then, a nasty smirk broke out on his face, “How interesting…” Light startled when Beyond suddenly jumped from his crouch to lean far too closely to the brunette’s face. “Heheh…you’re not lying, are you? You don’t have lying eyeballs, unlike me. This is fascinating…” Launching back to his seat, the man crooked his head and giggled, “L got it wrong…That’s…never happened before. He took a risk and revealed his face to you, but still miscalculated?” Those giggles broke into manic laughter, “O-Oh–! This is the best thing ever! Living proof, right in front of me! L’s a silly little mortal, just like the rest of us after all! In the beginning, I thought we would bond over an intimate hatred, but now I see that you’re a heaven-sent miracle!” 

The younger man glanced around the room, noticing wandering eyes at the display before him. Light swallowed nervously. He was in the presence of a truly insane person. Beyond took no heed at the scene he was making, “Oh, not-Kira, I think I’m going to keep you.”

Disturbed, Light spoke, “‘Keep me?’ What…do you mean?” 

Beyond snapped into a more calm countenance, “Well, we got off topic, didn’t we? I apologize, I haven’t been this thrilled to talk to somebody in years. But to track back to what we were discussing earlier…”

“I told you, I have no interest in some revenge plot.”

“Oh, not that! I’m talking about the several, fatass elephants in the room. The matter of our fellow convicts wanting to make a prison bunny out of you.” Instantly, Light felt a cold sweat go down his neck. He was unable to hide how terrifying the concept made him feel. “E-Excuse me…?”

The older man’s face switched to that of humored pity, “Aw, poor little not-Kira, he doesn’t know that he looks like a bitch. Seriously, did you break out of some idol group? It’s unfair that someone of your nonexistent crimes looks like he should be modeling for Calvin Klein.” As Light stayed stone-cold silent, Beyond felt invigorated to continue speaking, “I want to propose a deal, because to be honest, I feel bad for you. Just like me, you knew L personally and got stabbed in the back by him. Granted, I decided to kill people because of it, while you seemed to have committed the crime of being too innocent, but same’s same, yeah?” 

He clenched his hands. “What kind of deal?”

Beyond leaned forward, “I want to make a punk out of you.”

Disgusted and frightened, Light jumped out of his seat and stepped back, “T-The fuck?! Get the hell away from me–!” 

A cackle, “Chillax, sweet summer child! I don’t actually mean it!” The brunette refused to sit back down. He needed to leave. Immediately. He didn’t care that he knew L. This man was just as dangerous as Light initially thought, perhaps even more so. 

“C’mon, hear me out. I don’t actually want to fuck your tight ass, I’m merely suggesting that we pretend I am, get it? So you don’t fall victim to any of these depraved fucks, including the guards, I heard a certain Officer Larson talk about sweet Kira-chan rather unsavorly…” 

Light knew of Officer Elliot Larson, he overheard from other guards that he was demoted recently from being the captain’s lieutenant to a simple officer for what was regarded as “unprofessional behavior.” What the line was between professional and unprofessional behavior in this hell, Light didn’t want to find out. However, that was the extent of his knowledge. Hearing that this man he didn’t even know, was making…those kinds of comments, scared Light more than he knew what to do with. 

“I-If people think you’re doing…that, to me, will they really leave me alone?” He uttered, still distrusting of Beyond’s true intentions. 

He laughed, “Well, duh! That’s how punking works! If they see me hanging around you like we play it in the sheets, they’ll know you’re off limits! I’m quite the intimidating character, y’know. An agitator, as they say. Remember Samuel Tinsley?”

Light had never heard that name before. “Who’s—” He was about to question before being cut off, “Exactly! I kicked that man’s ass 13 ways to Hollywood! Ain’t nobody thinks he’s top dog anymore! Sure, it put me in segregation for a good few weeks, but since I heard of your arrival, I have been on my best behavior for months to get this chance to chat and offer my services! Aren’t I so patient and kind?”

As if he trusted anything out of this psycho’s mouth, “You mentioned being a murderer, I don’t care if we share a common interest, you have an ulterior motive, I know it.” Light nearly hissed the last part of his sentence.

“Look, kid, any minute now these folks are gonna hoe check you, if they haven’t already. And once they realize your Kira-ness is nothing but cell warrior shite, they’ll turn you into a slutty little june bug, get it? And while I’m not the type to be motivated by altruism, I’d like to toss you a bone. I can’t–-” Beyond hiccuped, and the mania that had been prevalent on his face cracked into something more human, “I don’t want to see yet another soul get squandered because of that monster. Can’t have you doing the Dutch, no siree. Not on my watch, not like…” He trailed off.

Without his volition, something like sympathy crossed Light’s mind. This man was mentally ill, no doubt, and it no longer felt fair to villainize him, crass mouth aside. If what he was saying was true, that there was a chance Light could be protected by a kindred soul, then it was worth looking into, right? Anything to avoid being taken advantage of, the younger man couldn’t take any more hits to his pride than he already had. 

“I don’t trust you.” Light started, hesitating once the other man’s crazed eyes met his, “But…If you swear you won’t hurt me, then I’ll tell you everything about my, uh, personal experience with L. That’s what you want, yes? Since we…share that commonality.”

A fake sniffle, “R-Really?” Beyond‘s eyes filled with what could only be dramatized tears, “Y-You mean it?” Offset by this sudden weak attitude, the brunette nodded. 

Suddenly, the older man cheered, tears forgotten,  “Oh! This is the best day of my life! I promise, hands to myself, no touching your prison pocket, scouts honor. And since you’re being so amicable, I’ll even add the bonus of telling you everything there is to the great mouse detective, L! Just don’t hold out on me on the nitty-gritty of your end of the deal, and it's strawberries and cream from here on out.”

Light hesitated on telling Beyond everything he knew about L, especially the more intimate things. Perhaps there’s a way he can both appease the fellow convict while also…omitting certain details. It’s not as if Beyond would notice.

“I have a feeling this is the start of a beautiful relationship, don’t you?” He asked, paying no heed to Light’s turbulent thoughts.

『••✎••』

“You lied to me.”

The crust that had formed on his eyes, from a surprisingly nice sleep, crunched as L blinked. Wait, what? That wasn’t right, the detective hadn’t intended on sleeping a single wink. What on earth happened? One second, he was closing his eyes to rest them for a brief moment, and the next, Light had suddenly left the bed, and his hand was now vacant. Fantastic, even when the older man tried to punish himself, he still couldn’t get it right. His back cracking, L sat up and gazed around the room for the source of the distrustful voice. 

Still, unfortunately nude, Light emerged from his closet, holding folded clothes to his chest. It seemed the younger man was going for a more layered look this day, selecting a maroon ribbed sweater with dark jeans to be wrapped in a black denim jacket. The detective made sure to avert his eyes once he took in the catalogue. He didn’t want Light getting the wrong idea, again. 

The older man almost forgot to respond, “What ‘lie’ is Light-kun referring to?”

Going to the bathroom and turning on the shower, he didn’t respond. L assumed he was being ignored, so he got off the bed to leave. As childish as it sounded, the sugar addict preferred not to start the morning off with an argument, especially after the trainwreck that was last night. 

Light leaned against the bathroom’s door frame, standing only a little over a foot away. Thankfully, wrapped in a towel. His lovely brows furrowed in irritation, “You said no one in the Japanese Task Force was staying in the building, and yet I’ve seen Matsuda lurking around. He leaves with the officers, chats in the foyer, and then immediately runs back inside with his tail tucked between his legs.”

Oh, so it wasn’t anything as bad as L was fearing. “Apologies for the deception, but my reasoning isn’t as nefarious as you cut it out to be. I said that because you’re aware I don’t consider Matsuda a genuine member of the Task Force, he’s more like…” L paused for a moment, trying to recall the phrase, “An office gofer.” 

Light narrowed his eyes, “He’s been the owner of the Death Note for five years.” 

“Oh, please, he’s a glorified popstar groupie on the leash of a shinigami. To him, that trip to New York before arriving here was a paid vacation. I think he forgets that he owns the notebook.” L scoffed.

The brunette didn’t take L writing him or Matsuda off too kindly. His voice hardened as he replied, “Still, I wouldn’t dismiss him the way you do. It’s dangerous to underestimate people.”

L tilted his head, “What are you trying to say?”

A few pauses, the younger man hunched slightly into himself. “That night, the night where everyone took me in…” Light’s eyes fell to the floor in silent pain. The detective shifted his feet in discomfort. “I saw sides of the people I once considered my friends switch up in the most horrifying way. These people, whom I once laughed with, fought a common cause with, had turned on me because you gave the word. I was already terrified of my father with that bullshit mock execution, imagine getting that again along with men who had known me since I was a kid. Shoving me to the floor, screaming in my ear, pointing guns at me…Sayu was hysterical…” 

Trailing off once more, the brunette was evidently choked up. Light’s weak frame shook slightly with what could only be a barrage of nightmarish memories flooding his brain. Unable to stand the other’s pain, L spoke up, “Light, you don’t have to—”

A hand raised, telling L to stop talking. Swallowing his words like sour candy, the detective waited patiently for the younger man to sort himself out. After a few minutes, Light continued, “And y’know who was the scariest? Not my father, who held my family back and stared at me like I was the devil incarnate, but Matsuda. The way he pointed his gun, not like a betrayed friend, but like a soldier, was terrifying. You would expect him to be the most emotional, being as naive as he is, but he wasn’t. If I had fought back, there’s no doubt in my mind that he would have shot me. And that reality…is scary.” Crossing his arms, Light’s voice switched from nostalgic fear to a more analytical tone, “The point I’m trying to make is that when push comes to shove, people switch to reveal an ugly side of themselves. And Matsuda? He’s no different, none of them are.”

L nodded, “I understand, Light-kun. As usual, you provide a nuanced take I otherwise wouldn’t have considered.” Perhaps the detective should take more caution in his approach to the police investigators, especially knowing what he knows. This was…a surprisingly civil conversation. 

“I’m glad you feel that way, because you’re just like them.” 

L rescinds his last thought, alert from the sudden hostility in the other’s voice. The brunette’s previously hunched posture seemed to turn from that of a tortured soul to a feral cat. There was going to be bloodshed, verbal or literal. The detective decided to play dumb, “How so?” 

“You know exactly what I’m talking about. One moment, you’re wishing me a sweet farewell from headquarters. Next, I’m kissing the floor and told that under orders from L, I’m being charged and arrested for being Kira. I’ve seen what you’re really like, a manipulative piece of shit that’d do anything to win a case. A fucker that only cares about his own whims and would play the long game to achieve them. So, you can cry all you want that you only care about my precious well-being, but nothing is going to change the person you are when backed into a corner. That switch from loving partner to heartless monitor.”

The floor was ripped from underneath his feet. L’s mouth flapped shakily as he attempted to come up with a response. But in the end, nothing worthy ever came out. Light bridged the gap between them to jab at his chest with condemnation.                                                                           

“What happened last night? None of it matters. I don’t care if your concern is genuine or just another long game, I will never trust you. I’d sooner jump off this building than fall into your arms again. And that’s a promise.” 

L was completely helpless, his eyes wide with stupefaction, body frozen head to toe. A draft of wind could have blown him away. His mind stormed with many clashing views, and yet there was one thought that permeated beyond all others and near burned his sense of reality: ‘Is all of that true?’ A question that plagued many detectives of several calibers, but never to the point of complete self-destruction like it did L.

He always knew he was two-faced, that there was a shrewd, self-interested hedonist underneath the unsuspecting Ryuzaki. But in L and Light’s relationship, L believed that he had bared himself to the other. That all those layers that made the world’s greatest detective had been shed to reveal a softer, more vulnerable side he never realized he had. That, because of loving Light, he was able to discover that, maybe, just maybe, there was something more to him deep down. He gave his trust to Light, so…when he believed that trust was violated, he lashed out. Tenderness turned into a toxic fear that shook him to his very core. All this time, L figured that part of him, that blossoming of passion beyond caseloads, was the side that acted so hastily.

But, if Light was right, then perhaps…there really was nothing more to him. That in his pursuit of guised justice, he ended up fooling himself into thinking that beast of pleasure wasn’t all there was. At the end of the day, the brunette had a point. The second L believed Light no longer served his purpose, he cast him aside. Like a cheap toy rather than his supposed soulmate. Maybe he never loved Light, maybe when faced with his impending mortality on the Kira case, L’s subconscious sought a higher meaning to life to feed that hedonist that was always facing him. And once again, Light Yagami would be the only one who saw the detective for who he was. 

L wasn’t lying earlier, the younger man truly did bring a perspective he never considered.

He had been as genuine as ever the night before. However, it could be yet another long game, destined to crash and burn for everyone else, that he didn’t realize he was starting. Just like five years ago. 

“I…” He trembled, digging into his soulless soul for an answer, but coming up with empty calories, “...I have to leave now…” L’s body drove on instinct, padding away in slow, quiet steps. He didn’t want to turn back, to see his reflection in Light’s all-seeing eyes. The concept sickened him to his stomach. 

Although maybe if he did, he would have seen the now troubled gaze staring back at him.

『••✎••』

This whole case sucked.

Digging his face into Matt’s hair, Mello bemoaned his current state of life. Day after day, zilch progress after zilch progress, it was slowly driving the blonde crazy. Things just weren’t making sense. The Kira case, L, the ex-convict, nothing added up. His arms tightening harder around the body they were encompassing, Mello wondered if Near was just as lost as he was. Probably not, considering that asshole pulls answers out of his ass since he was probably in fucking diapers. It never ceased to piss him off. That effortlessness dwarfed any achievement the blonde could get under his belt. Such a charmed life, Whammy’s House was indeed. 

“Fuckin’ Hell, Mells, you shove your nose any harder into my skull and soon you’ll be sniffin’ my brain.” 

Matt’s tired yet playful voice broke him out of his internal rant. Taking the comment to heart, Mello quickly backed up and manually relaxed himself. “Shit, sorry, I didn’t notice.” A soft chuckle, “Chill, dude, I was just messing with you.” Mello’s eyes fell to the sheets in silent insecurity. Even in small moments like these, the other man was too good to him.

Matt sighed and rolled over to face his best friend, “Do you want to talk about it?” 

“Not really, I’m just being…” Mello let the sentence end itself, letting the other man fill in the gaps with his own mind.  The gamer propped his head up on his arm with a crooked smile. He was tossing the baton back to Mello, it seemed. 

Inhaling, he let his thoughts out, “It’s just that this case seems so confusing, there are too many details where it doesn’t matter, and not enough when we really need it. Who is Kira? What’s he got to do with Yagami? And why’s…why’s L so weird around him?”

A few moments passed between them, letting his words float in the air. Matt huffed, blowing his fringe out of his, unlike usual, uncovered eyes, “Giving me the hard questions, huh? I can’t answer any of them, because if I did then we’d be back in the States and Kira-less, but what I can do is tell you this: Everyone does something for a reason, and whether it be cartoonishly evil or human error, I know a pretty cool guy who can figure out why. I’ll give you a hint as to who he is: Think Hot Topic escapee with a penchant for Wonka bars.” 

Mello snorted, “I take offense to that comment.” 

“Well, it’s true!” The other man laughed, reaching out to rub Mello’s head, “Did I mention fake-blonde? That’s another hint.” In mock offense, Mello slapped his palm over the other’s face, “Fuck you! I was blessed by the Lord with these locks, thank you very much.”

Matt rolled onto his back, “Sure, keep telling yourself that, maybe one day you’ll believe it.” The blonde (a real one, for your information) sat up and slammed his pillow onto Matt’s face, pretending to suffocate him. “You’re the one who’s constantly changing his hair color!” 

His voice was muffled, “I struggle with commitment, don’t be mean!”

Now energized, Mello nearly leaped off the bed to get ready for the day. Although the last part of his advice was stupid, it did give the successor an inkling of the next step he could take to progress the case. There was a certain aspect about the Japanese Task Force he needed clarification on, and there was no better time than the present. 

His bedmate seemed to disagree, “Why are ya getting up so early? We don’t have to be down in at least an hour.” Chucking on some pants, Mello paid little attention to Matt’s grumbling. He adored the other man more than he’ll ever know, but he’ll never understand his laziness and borderline lethargy.

“Need to visit a certain someone, and who knows? Maybe I’ll get some truth out of him if he’s tired.” 

Chapter Text

Near sipped his teacup of nonexistent tea and thought to himself with a furrowed brow. Whammy’s House was undoubtedly struck with a rumbling storm of unspliced tension. Near was familiar with the feeling, as in a room with other eccentric personalities, people still held themselves with caution whenever he was present. However, those moments were mere clouds hanging over Near’s head, not whatever…ailment this was. 

Assisting Sir Wrinkles, a stuffed lion suited in knight armor, with his decadent, albeit faux cup of coffee, Near regarded the lion’s three cubs sitting behind him with stoicism, aware they were content to not drink at the table so long as their boss was cared for. He wasn’t childish enough to invent voices for his toys, but the boy did make sipping noises as Sir Wrinkles drank. He knew one man was responsible for the darkness brewing in the orphanage.

It was L, the cause for most things around here. 

Maybe once every three years did the children residing here see the man’s face, but nowadays it was easy to catch a glance if you happened to walk into the kitchen towards the pastry section. An aura of depression and failure following the detective, his downtrodden face becoming commonplace.

Very pathetic, in Near’s humble opinion, which he was happy to give if anyone asked. It certainly dampened his view of his not-yet-predecessor. 

The boy leaned across the table to help Hogbert Hanssen drink his wine, laced with snake venom by the dastardly Snake Gang that sat in the corner of his bedroom. He hadn’t played with them in a while, so he thought bringing them back for this tea party scenario would be fun. Near mimicked sipping once again, knowing that Hogbert would be okay since pigs were immune to snake venom. 

Speaking of altered viewpoints, Near’s train of thought led to Mello. The other boy had changed recently and suddenly. Previously, since L’s return from the Kira case in November, Mello was evidently in denial of L’s current mood, his idol worship coming in full gear. But nowadays, the blonde avoided the detective like the plague or using Matt as a buffer between them. 

It was…strange.

Near turned to Trip and Chip, tanuki and kitsune plushies respectively, a gift from Watari after the case in Japan, and fed them their plastic sandwiches. Unfortunately for the two, the boy didn’t own enough small chairs for the table, so they had to share a seat. In his last game, the two had an awesome fight to the death, where they both died in spectacular fashion, but he resurrected them for the tea party. 

Moving out of his seat, the heir knew Mello did something to shatter his world view. What that thing was specifically, Near had yet to figure out. Undoubtedly, Matt would have an idea, as Mello’s second half. The boy will corner the other successor and question him the next opportunity he gets, never one to allow a puzzle to go unsolved.

Picking up and dumping the Snake Gang on the thick, plastic table for the tea party’s surprise battle scene, Near chuckled. In any case, with Mello so distracted, at least he was bothered less about being the first successor. 

He can take the good with the bad.

『••✎••』

Mello strode to the door he knew housed their resident clumsy cop. Knocking on the door louder than any alarm clock, he tapped his foot in wait for a response. A few moments passed, and the door crept open. A doe-eyed gaze blinked in exhaustion, “Uh–hello? Mello, right? Is there a problem?”

Wedging his foot in the crack of the door for precaution, Mello leaned closer to his prey, “Yeah, I’ve got a problem with you , Serpico.” The other gulped, “Uhm, y-you do?” Matsuda hunched into himself as Mello moved closer and closer into his personal space. “You betcha, so listen up: I’m going to ask some questions and you’re going to give me nice, clean answers, got it?”

The cop blinked a few times before responding, “O-Of course! Come in, I guess…” He opened the door fully. Mello stepped inside and loudly shut it for dramatic effect, but also to keep Matsuda on his toes. Prowling around the room and noticing its boring design, Mello let the man sweat for a little longer. 

Minutes passed. Suddenly, the blonde swiveled to meet the other’s eyes with fierceness. “So, you’ve been the owner of the notebook since the case’s closing five years ago, yes?” Matsuda straightened nervously, “Y-Yes, I have been. Well, uh, technically I’ve been the owner earlier than that, since we didn’t close the investigation after Higuchi died, but after Light was, uh, arrested.” Mello put his hands behind his back soldier-like, “Right, run it through me how that happened.” 

“Well, when we caught him at that bridge, he suddenly died of a heart attack. And s-since I was holding it when that happened, the ownership transferred to me.” Mello furrowed his brow, that didn’t sound right. “Why were you holding the notebook? No offense, but someone more qualified should have been handling such delicate evidence.” He asked, not genuinely caring how rude it sounded. Matsuda scratched the back of his neck, “Uhm, some taken…?” At Mello’s lack of reaction, the cop continued, “Well, L-I-Mean-Ryuzaki-Wait-Are-We-Still-Calling-Him-That? uh, asked Mogi if he could deliver the notebook to his helicopter, but I thought since Mogi was busy calming down the chief from seeing Rem that I could do it. So, I, uh, offered to help and delivered it instead. Bad timing though, all things considered…” 

The blonde tilted his head,  “So, it was all a big coincidence? And they let you keep ownership since it would’ve been a hassle to have you forget the notebook’s existence if you gave it up?” 

Matsuda looked down, now fiddling with his hands, “Y-Yeah, and we couldn’t destroy the notebook since the rules say that everyone who touched it would die.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know that,” Mello wagged his hand flippantly, “So, since then you’ve had to stick close to that shinigami, Rem, who sticks close to Misa Amane? How does that exactly work?”

“Rem isn’t all that open about how the death note works. But,” The cop looked around nervously, as if they were being watched. A tick went off in the back of Mello’s head. Coughing awkwardly, Matsuda continued, “she told everyone in the task force that the shinigami who owns the notebook before the human picks it up must ‘possess’ that human. Meaning that Rem and I have to remain a certain distance with one another. So, since then, I’ve had to follow Misa-Misa wherever she goes.” At the scrunch of Mello’s brow, the man quickly added, “Ah, don’t worry! It’s not like a roommate situation, uh, I’m just kinda held hostage city-wise. Misa-Misa doesn’t leave Tokyo much outside of her tours or international photoshoots, so it’s not all that bad, in a way…” Matsuda trailed off, appearing more despondent than before. “Is…there anything else you needed to know…?” 

Mello sniffed, “One more thing, actually. Before headquarters reopened for the investigation, where were you storing the notebook? They didn’t just let you tuck it under your mattress, did they?”

The other man lurched in anxiety, waving his arms around like a cartoon character. His voice stuttered, “O-Of course not! I’m not that stupid! It was kept in a safe, hidden in my apartment, that needed four different passcodes to open, for each of the Japanese Task Force members. L gave it to us before he left.” A forced laugh, “I, uh, honestly forgot it existed after the case closed, heh…” 

Another tick in his brain. None of them had even seen the notebook in the five years the case was closed? It was good that they weren’t reckless enough to take it out on a whim, but something still felt…off.

“Alright, I’m done questioning you.” The cop’s posture notably lost tension at his statement. Not wanting the other man to be too relaxed, Mello approached him with a purpose. A flick of wrist, and his ebony karambit was pulled from his belt to be pressed at Matsuda’s neck. “However, if I discover in the future that you’re holding out info on me…” He put extra pressure on the blade, not cutting, but to make a point, “I’ll chop your ass into bacon, pig.”

Matsuda swallowed against the blade, his body shaking. “O-okay, I understand.” He stuttered. His eyes never met Mello’s but were instead trained on the blade. Satisfied for the time being, the blonde backed off. He left the room silently. The hallway was chilly, and through the windows of headquarters, Tokyo was draped with a thick fog. 

Already dressed for the day, Mello decided to get an early start on everyone and make his way to the main office. He wasn’t in the mood for breakfast, his mind too caught in the viscous details of the Kira investigation. It’s funny, Mello’s been trained his whole life to be a detective, but there was a big difference between delineating answers from a case file versus being trapped in the mess of an active case. Mello could feel himself getting lost in his own inadequacies among everyone else’s, the thoughts that he was a failure next to Near or that everything he did was a mistake plagued his mind. The blonde fiddled with the rosary on his neck, wishing there was somewhere in this building where he could collect his thoughts without the unsettling feeling of being judged. At Whammy’s House, when Mello felt overwhelmed, he usually would sit in the pew of the church, absorbing the quietude, the smell of incense, and the glistening stained glass windows. But seeing as he was trapped in Japan, he wouldn’t find a respite like that anywhere nearby. 

Well, at least he had Matt. No matter how much the world changed around him, the other man’s presence at his side wouldn’t.

Huffing in annoyance, Mello figured that since ruminating on the past wasn’t painting a clearer picture, then only taking action would achieve results. He’s tried Near’s way of sitting back and it’s not his style. To win, one must attack, whatever it took to make everything and everyone go back to normal. The only way to solve this case was to get unconventional. 

Just the way he likes it.

『••✎••』

Kira Task Force Headquarters’s progress droned from the morning to the afternoon. Everyone, like L, was too miserable to make any relevant progress for a variety of personal reasons. Besides a select few members, at least.

As usual, Light moved with an intensity that spoke of a thirst for bloody revenge. His eyes were perfectly sharp and stabbing into his monitor for any trace of Kira. And while usually the two were more than happy to stay in their reserved bubble of outward stoicism, it seemed Mello and Matt were abuzz by some unknown activity. Whatever made the two research and whisper with such enthusiasm, L was hesitant to find out. Their ideas always ranged from surprisingly helpful to violation of Geneva Conventions. The latter a habit inherited from L, no doubt.

His mind and eyes drifting back to his ex-lover, a heavy weight sat in the detective’s gut. Their conversation from that morning had yet to leave his mind. A deep shame, intense like never before, took up all space in his body. Without noticing, his hunch grew more pronounced, his hair messier, and his appetite nonexistent. He hardly sipped the tea Watari brought him hours ago, not even bothering to sweeten it.  

Any and all relationships between them were dead and done, L would be sure of that. It was strictly business from here on out, regardless of how much that idea made L want to hurl a cake fork into his chest. It was for the best, something the detective never used to hold in high regard against getting results.

To give the other man his space that he deserved, L kept his work area as separate from Light’s as possible. It would have been noticeable if L swapped seats with one of the task force members next to him, so he relegated himself to being as compact as possible. It reminded L of his old self years ago, when he was content in a wide, empty room with a single computer on the floor, never needing anything more in life. The meaningless fancies of his earlier twenties now unrecognizable to his near thirty years. Same clothes, same posture, same face, but a different mind.

He still didn’t feel much for the state of the world, or the suffering of others, but he hopes from this day forward he’ll at least care enough to not let the feeling monster hurt those he…cares about. If he ever cared about Light more than a warm body. 

It was odd, reading the minds of everyone around you but incapable of understanding oneself. Life used to be so simple, he used to be so simple.

Two loud claps interrupted the hum of the room.

Everyone turning, Mello’s smug face greeted them, Matt standing at his side. “If anyone cares to listen, I have an idea as to how we can move the investigation forward,” His gaze smiling condescendingly to every investigator, he continued, “Unless…You guys feel comfy sitting on your asses.” 

Poor wording choice, for once, put aside, Light responded, “What did you have in mind?”

In the wordless signal of a head nudge, Matt moved at the blonde’s behest to approach the long desk and plug his laptop to connect with the main wall monitor. A few key clacks, and the screen changed from room security to oddly, a gossip column. Talking Tokyo , the website was aptly called. The task force all turned to Mello with a quirked eyebrow.

He inhaled, “Look, according to this online article, there’s been rumors that a certain television channel, cough cough, Sakura TV, is looking to profit off of Kira’s return. And by that, I mean they’re seeking to become a spokesperson for the guy. I think they miss their 15 minutes of fame from the Second Kira’s tapes and the Yotsuba stunt you guys pulled way back. Their numbers have been notably pathetic since then. So,” He sauntered to the keyboard and clicked onto a separate tab. The job openings page for Sakura TV appeared. “I say we get an insider. It’d be logical for Kira to seek a public voice, with him being absent for the past half-decade. A big show of his return will get people loud and radical again. And, if Kira’s cocky enough to use the police to leave messages, he might be cocky enough to contact Sakura TV like Amane did.” 

L’s mind moved a mile a second to contemplate the concept. At the resounding silence of his declaration, Mello’s face slightly flushed and he hunched in on himself, “Look, it’s just an idea, okay? It’s better than anything you fucks have accomplished lately.” Matt put a hand on the blonde’s shoulder, “What Mells means to say is that with Kira pulling a lot of the same beats as last time, he might bite at the idea of a spokesperson. If we have a mole at Sakura TV when that happens, then we’ll have a lead. It’s a shot in the dark and definitely needs some tweaking, but it’s something.” Mello resolutely nodded at his companion’s secondary explanation.

A contemplative voice, “...Is there already a rumored spokesperson?” Light’s hands drummed on the desk as he spoke, clearly engulfed in some hurricane of thoughts. Quickly, and obviously pleased someone was engaging with his plan, Mello responded, “ Talking Tokyo mentioned some of the anchor people already residing in Sakura TV, but they might pull from another studio…?” With a hand on his chin, Mello began typing on the laptop to dig for more info. 

However, before he could even finish writing in the search bar, Near got up from off the floor and entered the haphazard circle the investigators formed. “Judging by the profiles made five years ago, I’d say it’s Mister Demegawa who will take up the role.” Mello jerked away at the younger man’s sudden appearance, looking bothered, “That fat oaf? He’s their director, why would he become the face of Kira? I get that he’s greedy, but he knows his ugly face is more suited for behind the camera.” Near hummed, “I’d agree, nevertheless he’s a narcissist itching for attention. I doubt he’d let anyone else take the role.” 

Mello’s mouth curled into a scowl. L understood that the blonde wouldn't let the other successor make a point without making it a battle in easily his worst attribute. His voice was agitated, “Yes, but he’s also a coward . I’ve read his profile too, y’know. There’s no way he’d stick his neck out on the chopping block like that.” 

Near sighed, already bored with the other, “You underestimate a person like Demegawa’s desire to be seen by the world. Obviously he knows he’ll be in danger if he appoints himself as Kira’s spokesperson, especially since he lacks the brain capacity to even argue for Kira’s position; but none of that matters when people haven’t looked at him for years. He’ll likely acknowledge the danger on live television as part of his big-show act.” Twirling a lock of hair, the successor continued, “In any case, this plan’s been ludicrous from the start. There’s no need to have an insider, we could just plant cameras and wiretaps in the Sakura TV building and observe what happens there; assuming Kira even bothers with Demegawa.” 

L didn’t want to compare his second successor with an animal, but the angry sound coming out of his mouth could only be described as beastly. “You—!” “What, you think Kira is gonna waltz into the building and give Demegawa handwritten speeches preaching the good of the world?” Matt interrupted, subtly stepping in between them. Near pouted, “I think Kira would sooner kill the man than take him seriously.”

The detective decided to finally step in, “That could very well be true. Regardless, Kira’s going to react to Sakura TV’s development no matter what we do. Whether it’s murder or acceptance, we need to discuss if it’s even worth it to send an agent to witness it. Do recall that Kira uses a notebook, and anything that results in a killing won’t be easily traceable.” 

The scrape of a chair echoed in the room. Light Yagami stood up, proud as ever, an accompanying echo of the past, “Whatever’s being planned, I’m all in. Anything’s better than nothing.” Their white-clothed successor sighed in irritation, “No, nothing is plenty better than whatever this—” Mello cut in quickly, “Shush, sheep. The ex-convict finally agreed with me. Glad to see someone has some brains around here.” None of Near’s expressions could ever be described as emotionally charged, so the pout on his face was likely the closest he’ll appear to angry. L recalls that he isn’t usually interrupted back at Whammy’s, where a teacher is more than happy to tell Mello to pipe down. The detective would interfere if he didn’t know this was a good learning experience. 

High on subpar success, Mello put his hand on his hip and smirked to all who could see it. “Well, before this plan goes anywhere near solid, we should discuss who’s gonna take the mole role.” Always quick to seek work, Matsuda tentatively raised a hand, “I—” “I’ll do it.” Light interrupted, spreading a sense of unease around the room. Instantly, Mello objected, “Uh, yeah right . I was thinking more Wedy or Aiber, who’re way more qualified in this kinda stuff. Not a rogue Ken doll, thanks.” Light sucked in his breath angrily. Disregarding the brunette’s presence altogether, Mello turned to L, “They’re coming any day now, right?” The detective nodded. 

He spared a glance to Light, who was geared up to reply, “I’m more than qualified to do it.” Mello chortled, “ Right , disregarding the fact you’ve never been trained for infiltration, you’ve also been deprived of conventional social interaction for five years. And no, the Kira Task Force doesn’t count. Just leave this to the professionals and sit pretty like you usually do.” 

If it wasn’t clear Mello didn’t hold fondness for the other, then this definitely sold it. L couldn’t help but feel confusion along with this growing dread, what on earth did Light do to the other to cause such animosity? It was especially strange since Mello earlier seemed pleased to have the brunette agreeing with his idea. Did he forget he didn’t enjoy Light’s presence? Or was it the other way around; and Mello forgot that he was enjoying the other’s input?

Rather than respond with vexation, Light matched the other’s haughtiness, “ Professionals ? Kid, you’re—what? Eighteen years old? I don’t want to hear it. You get to work on this case with licensed, seasoned detectives with absolutely no credentials of your own. You’re only here because L said you were smart enough to be, that’s all. And if we’re taking his word as gospel, then—” Suddenly, the brunette swerved to meet L’s eyes in his first acknowledgement of the older man since this morning, “You should know that L believes I’m more than capable of doing undercover work.”

What’s with people and putting him in the spotlight? He had hoped to avoid picking a side. Getting his thoughts together, L knew what the right thing was to do. He needed to talk both of them down a little so that the day doesn’t end in a physical disagreement. But before L could even open his mouth, Light continued, “And your whole complaint about social interaction? Completely null. I was just fine yesterday on my outing, another thing L can vouch for, right L?” 

What? No.

What on earth was Light trying to do?

Staring into the other’s insistent eyes, the thought finally struck him. The other’s gaze held a malicious intent that chokeholded the truth they both knew. His throat stuck together in a quiet desperation. He knew what was happening. This was silent blackmail .

If L didn’t corroborate with Light’s lie, regardless of it being for the greater good, he was fucked. Light didn’t care that this was a terrible idea, that he was too vulnerable for such a task, all he cared about was giving Kira his due. And he wouldn’t hesitate to make L his tool to make it happen. If L told the truth, that Light cried in his arms instead of handling his ‘outing’, he was as good as dead. With Soichiro in the room, he’d be a bloody pulp before he could say Kira . 

Even without their previous, uh, illicit relationship being revealed. Light could still go screeching to the nearest tabloid about his unfortunate experience being Kira’s scapegoat, and this whole investigation is up in flames. Not only that, but his already fragile reputation would be tanked.

So much for doing things for the best.

Swallowing something sour, L nearly hissed his reply, “Yes, Light-kun is more than capable of being a field agent. He’s very talented in working a room, when he puts his mind to it. He has proven so in the past.” L could hear a bell ring in his damnation.

Looking like the cat that ate the canary, Light tittered, “See? Straight from the horse’s mouth.”

Mello, ever-loyal, held back whatever indignation that was going to come out of his mouth. Matt sighed, “Well, plan’s not solid yet, so let's not get too excited, ‘kay?” At the despondent and lost atmosphere of the room, as if everyone can sense L’s soul being blighted like he did, Matt continued, “Maybe we should just…sleep on it? Or, I don’t know, call it an early day?” 

Murmurs came and went of the other investigators, besides L and Light, agreeing to that idea. Or, at least, that’s what L thinks was what happened, lost in his own poisonous thoughts. One moment, they were on their computers, the next, they were shuffling papers away and dusting off.

However, a tender voice rose above the others, perking L’s ears.

“Light, I’m…” Soichiro Yagami began, briefly switching his gaze up and down before settling on his estranged son, “I’m glad you’ve been doing well.” Crossing his arms, Light scoffed, “Yeah, right.” The brunette, unlike his father, seemed content to look at everything but him.

Steeling himself in face of the lackluster response, Soichiro continued, “If it’s alright with you, perhaps sometime this week…you could, uh, visit the house? Your mother and Sayu, they, miss you very much.” A forced chuckle, “They’ve been begging me to bring you over.”

A brief moment of silence, the two men contemplating each other's presence.    

Then, a hideous fit of laughter.