Chapter Text
Light usually moves in fluid motions, completely in control, not batting an eye at anything. Today, his feet stutter on the ground and he feels sick to his stomach at keeping up this quick, light, persona- he punches L. He can't stand for L being depressed, it's almost like he wants to lose, but the truth is, half of the fun of killing people is the challenge L always presents. But it's therapeutic. His emotions are so in check and so rarely acted on, random feelings bubble to the surface, and the cold, white hot anger is released, if only temporarily.
He’s stuck between a rock and a hard place. In another life, he and L would get along perfectly, but here, as Kira, as criminal and investigator, (not that L minds), one cannot survive while the other lives.
Some nights, his hand shakes slightly while gripping the covers (L notices sometimes, calls it Light’s equivalent to tossing and turning, which he doesn’t do, because “Unlike others, Light-Kun, you never let yourself express any emotion at all”), Light almost, almost, regrets that it had to be this way (of course it did, who is he if not God?). There is no one left for him in this world, but if there were, it would be L. In Light’s eyes, he has to die for the rest of the world to live. What he doesn’t know, is that his judgement of others keeps his own freedom shut tight, and it can’t help but be thought that when he achieves his perfect world, he will simply become a shell, an echo of the future he could have had. Everything will become meaningless.
In another life- they would have been playfully competitive, and they would still fear their feelings, but Light might not wake up three times in one night, would not avoid L's stare in the morning, would not have L tugging him on a chain whenever he needs him.
Light sometimes thinks the chain is a metaphor for the small distance between their intellect, and their personalities never quite crossing the bridge. Other times it is a painful reminder that they would never be friends.
Not that I need them.
"Light-Kun has never had a real friend, has he?" L doesn't even look up from his computer that night, his fingers don't stop their rhythm, tap tap tapping on the keyboard.
So what? That doesn't make me Kira.
"I have plenty of friends" he says instead. L actually turns in his spinny chair at that, facing Light, who's been lying on the bed staring at the ceiling. A nightly activity. Plotting, L would say.
Dying, Light thinks. It's setting in now, how he has to kill L. That is the final step, one step until there is nothing in his way, nothing to challenge him- so, why is it so hard? he didn't hesitate killing Lind L. Tailor, when he thought it was L. Who is this man he's gotten to know, and why does knowing him make it harder to kill?
L seems to find amusement when they're alone, instead of constant tests when they're in public. 'They're not tests if you're not Kira', L says, which Light would roll his eyes at and tell him that only a fool wouldn't be able to see through L's plans, to which L would widen his dark black eyes, chewing on his thumb
Is he a child?
and make Light uncomfortable in the way he stares, leaving Light to always look away first, shaking his head and crossing his arms.
"I have friends" he repeats. L cocks his head slightly, continuing to chew on his thumb in the spinny chair.
"Kira doesn't have friends" is all L says, and returns to typing on his keyboard, shooting a glance at Light when he eventually falls asleep.