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Light internally cringed at the booming voice of Avril Lavigne informing the guests she doesn’t like your girlfriend. This deep into the celebrations the company was split between the resigned slouching at their seat and scrolling through their phones, and those still going hard on the dance floor. Buttons were popped open, bridesmaids sat chattering on ledge of the restroom sinks and the younger of the extended family sitting in the hallway passing around in swigs a swiped bottle of champagne.
Light sat on a deserted table at the back with a ball of pain forming behind his eyes, his head throbbing at every hey hey you you. Of course, as the brother of the bride he had initially sat at the front table. But as the night wore on his patience in engaging in social niceties with relatives he hadn’t seen for years and swallowing the casual homophobia dwindled with it. As well as the in laws, where he had to unbury the English he did know that had been put away since high school and then stomach the passing racism. Light had found refuge at the abandoned back tables watching the group of bodies exerting the energy he didn’t have.
The hall was beautiful and extensive, with wall of glass doors that opened up into the English countryside and beams of disco light contrasting the pillars aligned through the hall. The room was filled with bouquets of white and green flowers, standing on each table and up against the walls. Light could tell that Sayu had been pleased with the reception.
Discreetly, Light turned his wrist so he could see the face of the watch gifted by his father years before. It had only just gone 10pm. He swallowed a sigh. Light had promised Sayu that he would stick around the reception long enough to watch her leave for her honeymoon with her new wife. And of course he wanted to proudly see off his little sister, but at the rate his eyelids were turning into weights over his eyes and the growing whistle in his ear was getting more punctuated he wondered how much longer he would need to endure. Also, the jetlag from his 12-hour flight to England the day prior was doing a good job at kicking his arse. He looked over to the dance floor, quickly spotting Sayu in the organism of moving bodies, spinning around in her white wedding kimono holding hands with her wife who had opted for a western wedding gown. Light withered when it became clear it would be a while yet.
“Is Light-kun not going to dance?”
Crossing his arms, Light glanced to the seat next to him. Ryuzaki had made the effort in wearing a dress shirt and smart trousers, his hair had been combed back nicely by hair gel. The black hair pulled away from his face revealed his strong jaw and cheek bones, this time the darkness of his eyes were doing him a favour in making them have depth. Simply, he looked absurdly handsome. Whilst all things considered it was fair people did so, it was something objectively overlooked in exchange for his strange personas. Not that Light was going to easily admit that. Unfortunately, the mirage was made ridiculous as L had long abandoned his expensive leather shoes (which were never to be found) and opted to his usual stance of tucking his knees under his chin, his hair gradually returning to its usual mess and stuffing wedding cake (one of many slices dotted around him) into his face.
How ridiculous.
“I’m afraid it’s not my sort of thing” Light stated, not falling for his bait. Subtly, he rolled back his right shoulder from where it had gone stiff during the flight and the long day. He eyed Ryzaki’s fingers carefully holding the fork to the white icing, mildly amused. “Do you have enough dessert?”
Ryuzaki shrugged responsively. “It’s fruit cake.” He stated as if that explained everything. When Light did not respond Ryuzaki pressed further in exaggerated exasperation, rolling his eyes to the ceiling, “unfortunately Yagami-san did not choose Japanese desserts, instead she went for her spouses traditional English fruit cake. Therefore, I’m doing Yagami-san a favour with discarding of what inevitably will be a pile of abandoned cake.”
“Right.” Light responded blandly, resisting the urge to roll his eyes.
He couldn’t bring himself to regret bringing L along. It had made the whole experience much more (dare he admit it) fun. Whilst enduring vapid conversations with people he’ll likely not see again for years, L had been a great source of entertainment for his blunt weirdness, for lack of better words, stunting the guests. Whilst Light did everything he could to appear as the perfect brother of the bride through all his pleasantries, L in his usual manner was doing the opposite. Everyone had initially been intrigued and charmed by this mysterious handsome stranger of Light’s, who had shown up late in an outrageously expensive looking car, announcing it now belonged to the brides. Then handing Sayu her present (flight tickets to the Galapagos islands with all expenses paid) as if it were nothing.
This initial enchantment was short lived as Ryuzaki was engaged with, and the magic ebbed away into mystification how someone so peculiar had even acquainted with someone as overtly successful and charming as Light. Clearly, the fact that L had once lived in England and knew the language perfectly did absolutely nothing for his abysmal social skills.
Light couldn’t find it in himself to be embarrassed – the foreigners thought the Japanese were weird anyway and the NPA members already knew what Ryuzaki was like.
He could tell L was anxious. His body folded like a bird ready to take flight, biding for the moment he would need to fling himself off his seat and into seclusion. A wedding was the most obvious place for photos to be taken and throughout the night his eyes rolled around the room in their typical bulginess, hyper aware of all flashes of light coming from all angles. Successfully he managed slipping away from any group photo. It hardly mattered considering Watari’s ability to wipe the security cameras and destroy any photograph that may exist of L. But there was more to it, something more deeply rooted that carved everything he lived to decide. Light wondered if L feared the fact that he did exist on a physical level, and less as an idealistic concept. And one day, the mirroring image of himself would eventually spiral him into a Dorian Grey level identity crisis.
Quietly, Light was touched that L had even agreed to attend with him despite the photography and that they were situated relatively close to Winchester. The only time L revealed himself to the public were in situations where the chance of winning was at its highest stakes. So, for that Light could feel the effort and appreciate it. It was relieving to have someone who would be a source of mental stimulation, when it felt like his brain cells were fading one by one with every interaction with guests so incredibly dull.
Light had been sitting on their bed going through the mail when he brought up Sayu’s wedding. It had been unnecessary but Sayu had ended up sending Light an invite. For him and a plus one. The image of Sayu’s playful grin emerged in his mind and Light was sure he was being played with. As she had already met Ryuzaki (albeit by accident), and knew of him and Light’s relationship well, but didn’t place the invite for Light and Ryuzaki. Which meant Light had to ask him himself.
It would be their first trip together that had nothing to do with criminals or their detective work (of course the discussion of such things would leak into their conversations gradually, how could it not?)
Watari too had some how made it into the reception. Light looked out into the dance floor and saw incredulously Watari with a glass of champagne in one hand and Light’s mother in the other, twirling her around.
Wedding receptions as it turned out were for detectives too in love with their work the perfect place to decompress. Light suspected this was the first night of casual enjoyment both L and Watari had had for years. Not that Light was one to talk.
He looked over to L who was still filling his mouth with icing and from the film glazing his eyes, it was apparent he too was suffering from boredom.
“Yooo guys!” Matsuda appeared from behind their chairs calling for them cheerfully. His tie loose and the top buttons of his dress shirt popped open. Light looked over his shoulder, eyeing the way that Matsuda swerved on the spot, his cheeks flushed and eyes blown. “What are you doing sitting back here? You disappeared on us! Whoa! So that’s were all the cake went!”
“We’re just resting our feet Matsuda,” Light stated, regarding the tray in his hands with feigned interest.
“Here! We’re about to do some shots, you should definitely join us!” Matsuda slammed down the tray various glasses filled to the brim with trembling liquid. Light regarded the glowing green liquid like a chemical weapon.
“And what is that?”
“Uh they’re called apple sourz?” Matsuda looked down at the tray of shots the same way he may look at a complicated equation before whipping his head up with a wide grin.
“Oh no Matsuda thank you but I don’t – ”
“Come on Light, you really need to loosen up! When do you ever just relax? Go on, just one” Matsuda pressed, nudging Lights shoulder playfully. It took a lot of Light’s energy to not purse his lips and shove Matsuda off in irritation.
“I didn’t realise we were teenagers secretly getting drunk from our parent’s alcohol cabinet,” L stated, using the tips of his index finger and thumb to lift the cup to his nose. His face twisted into melodramatic disgust as he took a whiff, and moved the cup as far away from his face as he could with his tongue sticking out. “I refuse to consume anything that isn’t delicious.”
“Seriously? Fine, have this.” Matsuda handed L a pitcher filled with strawberry pink liquid. “It’s a cocktail – doesn’t even taste like alcohol, its mixed with juice and lemonade.”
“I’m aware of what a cocktail is Matsuda-san.” L droned shortly.
“You just want to see us intoxicated.” Light pointed out. Whilst Light questioned Matsuda value to the task force and dedication to cases many times before, he was given a rare moment of Matsuda clearly being in his element.
Matsuda held his hands up in mock surrender. “You got me,” he admitted sarcastically. “I can tell you’re both bored out of your minds, I promise the booze will make time pass quicker and you might have actual - I don’t know – fun.”
“I believe our definitions of fun differ Matsuda-san and who said that we weren’t already having fun?” L pointed out, giving the cocktail a test inhale, his nostrils flaring unattractively. He didn’t grimace.
Oh he isn’t actually –
And he did. Taking a long sip from the pint glass, Light watched the bob of L’s adams apple as the liquid travelled down his throat. Matsuda whooped loudly behind them.
“What if an emergency comes up?” Light hissed to L, “we cannot be incoherent if –”
“Light-kun’s concern is misdirected – none of my cases require immediate attention and I’m sure Watari can take over for me for a maximum of 7 hours.” L took another long gulp. “Unless Light also has something dire to work on I suggest you should, as Matsuda would say, loosen up.”
L offered him a lazy shrug, giving him a look that said what else is there to do?
Please, you just want to see what would happen, Light returned to him.
Discretely as he could, Light looked up to see where his parents were. One still dancing with the retired inventor and the other trying to engage through broken English with Sayu’s father-in-law.
Even with the glasses of champagne offered at the start of the reception Light made sure his sips were miniscule, with no risk that he could behave beside himself.
“This is peer pressure,” Light denounced to himself, knowing his boyfriend (a flurry of question marks filled Lights mind at that thought) and co-worker did not care.
With a small huff, Light picked up the shot glass and tipped it into his mouth. The foul taste of artificial apple burned his throat, and he lightly placed the glass back at the table, leaning his face forward so Matsuda couldn’t see his disgust.
“Another, another!” Matsuda cheered them on. “That took way less persuading than anticipated.”
Light did two more and felt … nothing.
He wondered how people engaged with this activity on a regular basis, how pointless it seemed. He wasn’t unfamiliar with the effects of alcohol, however the rare circumstance in which it happened were so far between the results always left him crestfallen. Light remembered his teenage years, the familiar feeling of displeasure and waiting for something that engaged his peers do the same for him. The lingering bitter flavour left in his mouth was a disappointing reminder.
He noticed L’s glass was empty. Light gave him a once over. His muscles had relaxed a fraction, his eyes becoming narrower.
Light weight, he thought pushing down the breathy laugh that wanted to rise in his chest.
“I’m afraid I don’t see the appeal of this activity Matsuda-san,” L declared, pushing his glass away and moving a fresh piece of cake towards him. “What does Light-kun think?”
“Give it a minute Ryuzaki you only had one drink,” Matsuda defended, “you say you don’t see the appeal but man you finished it pretty quickly.”
“…I suppose Matsuda is right; we should be celebrating with Sayu. It wouldn’t hurt to lay back every now and then,” Light said, simulating giving in to Matsuda’s whims.
“Yeah that’s the spirit!” Matsuda exclaimed over enthusiastically slapping Light’s shoulder. A dark expression passed over Light’s features, shadowed by the strands of his hair dusting the front of his face.
“Oh I was supposed to take this over to Aizawa and the others,” Matsuda remembered, picking up the tray. “Don’t have too much fun you two!”
Matsuda swept away as quickly as he had arrived, stumbling towards the table were the other NPA workers were situated, Aizawa's brows scrunching holding out his hand as if to communicate his impatience.
“Light, I know for a fact you hate alcohol,” L declared, his fingers picking up the fork using the very least of his skin humanely possible. “Or more correctly, the act of drinking for the sake of it.”
“I was purely going by your stellar advice, were you not encouraging me just then?”
“Indeed, but despite your dislike of the activity not changing, you paraded that we should take part based on our need to engage with the celebrations. Once the threat of the drastic scenario that we will need to perform our work for the greater picture disbanded, you made sure the priority was someone or something else – but I think you really did want to try it, to see what will happen.”
“… It was just a few shots, there is really no need for you to test me. Besides, if we sit back here doing nothing, it may seem like we’re sulking. Sayu will worry we’re not having a good time.”
“You don’t want to be a nuisance because of what you want.”
Light didn’t respond. It was the same spiral of deduction they had been over again and again. No new information or revelation emerged, therefore Light deemed it a pointless conversation. L was only showing off.
“Maybe we should discuss your overindulgence, considering you have stolen all of my poor sisters wedding cake.”
“She had me in mind and Light knows it.”
Before Light could fire back, an upbeat, bubbly tune roared from the speakers. The Japanese guests started cheering the moment the sugary voice of Misa Amane came blurring out.
Light tried not to roll his eyes, already participating L’s reaction. L dramatically fell back into his chair and groaned to the ceiling. “Finally, some good music.” Light could only just hear him say. A surprising fact that Light had rummaged and discovered was that the Ryuzaki persona’s taste in music was genuine. The corner of Light’s lip arched upwards for a brief moment.
There was a pressure against his cheek.
Light’s lashes fluttered rapidly, and he turned face to face with the tip of L’s long index finger that had ambushed him.
“Don’t poke me.” Light grumbled, swatting him away.
L regarded him for a moment, his lips curving into one of his more genuine smiles. A beautifully authentic expression that came as often as birthdays and anniversaries. Far between but well spent. The heat in the pit of his stomach flamed up into his chest every time they were gifted. It gave Light pleasure knowing that this look was mostly distributed for him only.
“You have dimples.” L announced, as if he were reciting a police report.
“You already knew that,” Light returned.
L shrugged one shoulder, “I was making sure you knew.” He slid another slice of the cake into his gaping mouth.
“Of course I do.”
It seemed like hours went by. Light and L tried to fill their time by making up narratives for the guests they didn’t know. How old they were, what were their occupation, if they liked their job, how many children did they have, want? It became a game of who could make the most far fetched back story based on the information that could be seen and justified. As the hours passed their speculations became more and more ridiculous. They began arguing over if the career choice the two assumed a guest had was the right one. What would they benefit from it, who would benefit from it, would it make them happy, was that important?
Under the table, their hands found each other. L’s thumb running up and down his palm, his spidery fingers twining through Lights. Gently, he squeezed L’s hand. L squeezed back.
At that moment the halls main ceiling lights were switched on, Light felt he had been pulled from a trance and L let go of his hand. the guests erupted in applauds. The DJ announced the brides coming departure. He saw his little sister with her tearful eyes, hugging their parent’s goodbye. The crowd huddled around the brides in an attempt to get a last farewell.
Finally, after working through the crowd with bows and hugs, Sayu turned towards Light with warm eyes. Light went to stand, regretting it immediately when all the shots suddenly went to his head. His hands moved to find the back of the chair for stable support, the chair next to him deserted as the room echoed with the flashing lights of cameras. What he had drunk wasn’t enough to get him distorted, it was however enough to catch him off guard.
“Light, I didn’t get to see you all night,” Sayu pouted. Light regarded his sister, her rosy cheeks, the hair sticking to her face with the sheen of sweat. She looked beautiful. She looked alive.
“You seemed quite preoccupied,” he smiled.
“Ah right how can I forget? Sir Geniuses are way too cool for dancing,” Sayu shook her head in mock chagrin. “I was going to drag Ryuzaki up when Amane came on but you guys seemed… preoccupied,” She parroted, giving Light a devilish grin.
“I really don’t know what you’re talking about Sayu,” Light refuted, his look turning soft as he changed the subject. “You look beautiful Sayu and the ceremony was lovely. We are all so proud of you.”
Sayu flushed heartily and her eyes fell to her feet bashfully. She pulled Light in for a hug, “thanks Light, you know I love you guys so much. And thanks for taking time off work to come, it really means a lot to us. Ryuzaki too.”
Winding his arms around her, Light let himself grin into her crown.
“We are not accepting his gifts though.”
“Not even the holiday?”
“Especially not the holiday.”
“He will be very disappointed.”
“He’ll be fine, I’m sure.”
“…”
“Light?”
“Yes?”
“Are you crying?”
“No.” Light sniffled into Sayu’s hair, hugging her tighter.
She snorted a peculiar blend of laughter and weeping into his shirt collar. They stayed like that for several seconds, knowing when they let go such an opportunity would seldom rise again.
“If she hurts you I will destroy her life.”
Sayu chuckled, “I’ll give her a fair warning.”
It was his turn to say goodbye to Sayu’s new wife. Lily was Nepali British, with a lovely face and a wide grin. And whilst her dress was classic western, a necklace of red and white flowers sat on her neck and her shoulders covered by a rich red shawl. Her hair in a high bun was held up by a red bobble with sequins and embellishments falling from it.
Light bowed and started his usual goodbye before she went in to hug him, insisting family shouldn’t be so informal. Politely, he returned it.
The brides held hands as they made their way to their taxi that would take them to the airport. The hallway was tightly packed to watch the brides leave. The teenagers sitting in the hallway jumped up abruptly as people entered, futilely trying to hide the champagne bottle behind their backs. Crossing his arms, Light watched Sayu leave by the doorway. The white swaying skirts were swallowed by the black door of the taxi and soon they were gone.
For a while, people ambled in the hallway for the fresh air and chatted amongst each other. Light stood still, his mind wandering as he stared into the same spot the car had just been. The cold air and the dark sky was providing him with melancholy nostalgia for reasons that evaded him. He felt like he had just witnessed the end of something. Somewhere in his ever expansive mind, he was scorning himself for once again being so fixated on endings and never beginnings. A huff of breath escaped through his nose, his arms falling to his side.
A warm, familiar hand grasped his wrist.
Maybe I am attentive with some beginnings.
“Were you hiding in the toilet Ryuzaki?” Light inquired, turning to the hunched, shoeless man holding onto him.
“Indeed,” L confirmed. “Yagami-san has left I see.”
“You see right.”
The guests returned to the dance floor, deserting the hallway that went into the night. Light and L were left lingering as the cold breeze swept in through the open doors. They were not in any rush to go back in as far as Light was concerned, especially now Sayu had finally left. He would have to say good bye to his parents he considered with dread. Light walked closer to the doorway in attempt to let the cool air sober him up (not that he was overly intoxicated by any stretch of the imagination, only mildly dizzy which still would not do) his wrist slipping out of L’s hold. Leaning against the door frame he looked over to L whose thumb had found its way to his mouth. Too used to the action to grimace at it (potentially finding it too endearing). The L Light knew had his moments of a seeming sombre quietness or inactiveness when no one was watching. Like his whole body was exhausted and was begging for a moment of rest that it ceased any kind of movement, and it was only in these moments of quiet solitude could he fold closed. Light understood well.
“What are you thinking about?” Light asked, his brain ticking at a slower rate. As soon as he asked he registered the slower music pouring through the closed doors.
Oh he is not—
L rarely failed to surprise him.
“May I have the honour of this dance, Light-kun?” L asked, comically cordial and teasing with the familiar use of the honorific, holding out his hand for Light to take.
Light snorted brazenly, trying not to sway on the spot as each shot started tickling his brain. Despite him finding it outrageously cheesy Light took it anyway, trying hard not to appear charmed by the action.
He must of failed, judging by how pleased L looked. Light didn’t care in that moment.
L’s left hand held Light’s right, whilst L’s unoccupied hand winded around Light’s waist, tucking him up close against L’s front. Light did the same, his arm flush flat up his back and hand holding onto his shoulder. It was hardly a waltz, or a dance of any choreography. It was more of a gentle sway, as two people who slotted and leant together as easily as two pieces of an incongruous puzzle. Supporting each other through their mild alcoholic haze. And their irrevocable love for each other as something they would signal through an Easter egg hunt. Never ceasing their mutual love for the search for clues hidden in plain sight. Or, as blatant as a “I love you” like the beam of a lighthouse. They would either play the game of cat and mouse, or be as explicit as a sign post.
Light felt he was spending most of his life gazing emptily into the abyss whilst waiting for everyone else to catch up to him. The predictability of people around him was like listening to a broken record. To all but L. Strange, juvenile, genius, lovely Lawliet. His equal, his best friend and someone who forced him to feel beyond comprehension. A kind of flame that burned his insides and engulfed him entirely, that such a gently portrayed emotion to him was overwhelmingly violent. Arrows in the heart indeed.
With pleasure, Light knew L more than anyone else did, perhaps more than Watari. Even so, Light could be taken off balanced and delighted in challenging interactions. But there were things he knew as facts.
L would hold him, kiss him, whisper that he loves him.
Sometimes, predictability is a beautiful thing.
Between all the deception that came from their careers and the general engagement with the human existence, it was incredibly pleasant to be punctured with something so closely connected to reality. Light knew that L was as grateful for this interlude as he was, before the stage lights would turn on them, the same tune would swell and they would step out to pander to their performances.
They’re bodies moved slowly into each other. Their hold moved to a cling. The buzz of music obscured by the walls trickled away into a distant hum. L’s back straightened by a few degrees. Light failed to tuck away his smile burning into L’s cheek.
He leant forward onto L’s chest so his lips warmed L’s ear.
Like a prayer, he whispered “Lawliet”.