Archive of Our Own ^beta

What was happening? What had happened? His soulmate was coming! The digits were whirling by, he would meet them in ten years, five years, a year, six months, a month... And now they were flickering back and forth, back and forth between one month and two months, the black lines on his skin wriggling as if they were alive. Light placed his fingers on his pulse, stroking the digits on his skin, feeling his heartbeat erratic. His timer had changed so suddenly, something dramatic must have happened. His timer - the countdown that told him when he would meet them, his other half, the one which the red string of fate connected him to, his soulmate. 

He was one step closer to meeting them. 

He was so absorbed in his thoughts that he barely stirred even after the bell rung. The black notebook dropping from the sky never had the chance to catch his eye. 

Soulmates were something sacred in culture. Everyone had a little countdown on their wrist. Some were grey and the numbers never moved. It meant that your soulmate was either dead or unborn. But if those little numbers imprinted in your skin were black, they never stopped moving until they reached zero or you or your soulmate was dead. And every step made a difference. A choice between a left and a right could set your timer back by a decade, and you would never know what had happened on the other side. Was it your fault or was it theirs?

L had noticed the numbers had changed on the plane to Japan. About five years had been taken off, and the great detective watched unblinkingly as another minute ticked off the countdown. Ten days, forty-one minutes and fifty-two seconds. L's face was blank and emotionlessly, but inside, his heart was thudding rapidly, and he heard the blood rushing through his ears.

There had recently been murders on a massive scale in the Kanto region of Japan, all unlinked. The numbers had hit double digits yesterday and L was finally intrigued. All the murders had no obvious suspects, they varied in age, in sex, in height, in features, yet L had a sneaking suspicion that they were all killed by the same person. It was just a hunch of his. But L's hunches had never been wrong. All the victims had been killed too easily, without a struggle. 

This case looked like it would cure his boredom for a while. Shaking himself out of his thoughts, L reached to his side for his laptop, hesitating slightly as he caught sight of the steady countdown again. And maybe... maybe... if he found his soulmate along the way, he would never be bored again. Or maybe it was just wishful thinking.

Each person had a soulmate, and therefore each person had a timer on their wrist, which counted down the moments until they met their soulmate. It was a list of numbers, the exact moment decoded out. And once you met your soulmate, the timer would melt away. Some flaked away like paint, some smeared and rubbed off, some faded into the skin. If you weren't paying attention, then the only clue leading you to your soulmate was lost. There were stories about men and women whose timer had melted away but never managed to pinpoint the one they were searching for.

"Would you like to come to dinner?" Yagami Soichiro offered. L stared at his earnest face, and then back at the screen of his laptop. The killer was still running loose, he was on a case, Yagami-san was his subordinate - there were so many reasons why he shouldn't go. The bulk of the Japanese police force had abandoned him because his methods were too unorthodox, and he was low on manpower. The killer seemed to have supernatural abilities and left no traces. He had no leads, no contacts, no suspects. 

L rubbed the bottom of his chin. Watari had just gone to contact Wammy's House. L knew that he would be on the phone with Roger for at least the next half hour. To sit alone in the silent hotel room or to follow Yagami-san back to his home? Usually, this would be a no-brainer. Going out was a risk that the detective could not afford to take, and typically L found company trying. But today...

Well, he wouldn't go as far to say he was lonely. He was just restless. Of course. But Yagami-san's face was kind, the lines on his face showed a softer side to the police chief and somehow L felt a pull towards his family. The light in the hotel room was dim, the curtains were drawn already. His room was comfortable but impersonal. L swept a thoughtful glance around the room, trying to convince himself that this was a better alternative to having dinner with a strange family and miserably failing.

There was something odd about him today.

 So L sighed and tilted his face towards Yagami-san's, and droned, "Would I be expected to wear socks at dinner?"

What was a soulmate? It was hard to define. Many saw it as the ultimate romantical relationship, but it also ran so much deeper than passion and physical attraction. It was finding someone who could truly understand you, someone who would want to understand you, someone who would go to hell and back for you. That was a soulmate.

If Light had looked at his wrist on the way home, his reaction to the newest addition at the dinner table might have been a little bit different. After all, it wasn't every day that the countdown could fall so low. Ten minutes until he met them, five minutes, two minutes... But Light would never feel that anticipation because he was in too much of a foul mood to check his timer. 

The belief of anything supernatural was a bit of a joke in high school. And it was a joke as in, "Oooh! Do you little boys still believe in Santa Claus and the tooth fairy?". That made the fact that the straight-A student, Yagami Light, was suggesting that the killer had some sort of fantasy 'power' - well, it meant that his sociology teacher and his peers didn't have such a high opinion of him now. 

So when he pushed open the door, barging in and kicked off his shoes (instead of placing them neatly along the wall), his father's awkward tone of voice was not welcomed as he was introduced, "Oh Light! Ryuuzaki, this is my eldest, Light."

Therefore one could not fault that his first feeling when he saw the strange man hunched over their dinner table, picking at his food, was one of indignance. Nor could he be blamed that his brain to mouth filter was not working, making the first words out of his mouth, "Father! How am I not qualified enough to join the task force?"

 The timer showed the number of days, the number of hours and the number of seconds until the moment you would meet them. 

And the strange man raised his head. Piercing black eyes scanned him up and down, assessing him coolly. Light felt a shiver go up his spine. The man tilted his head, his thumb going up to his lips, "You are Yagami Light?"

His voice was gravelly and authoritative, more of a statement than a question. Light felt himself bristle, "Yes. And you are Ryuuzaki, an assistant to L?"

The pale man slouched up, pulling out a hand that had been shoved deep inside the pockets of his jeans. Brushing away a strand of his inky hair out of his eyes, he stretched out a spidery hand to shake. Light eyed him up and down warily, the other man would be about the same height as he was, but he was hunched over himself protectively. His nails were short and bitten, deep eye bags circling his eyes. He was wearing a long white shirt without a collar, baggy jeans and a pair of worn tennis shoes without socks. His lips were pulled up at the sides into a wry smile.

Light stretched out his hand which was clasped in a firm shake. The dark eyes seemed to be mocking the younger man, "Actually, I am L."

The teenager felt his breath catch his throat and his eyes were inexplicably drawn down to his wrist, to his timer. And there, stark against his skin was a row of zeros.