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Sometimes, you thought you knew a lot about L. Despite his propensity for secrecy, a part of you believed that you had known him long enough for you to glimpse into the innermost workings of his mind, to catch sight of what lay beneath his seemingly unknowable facade and see the human living underneath. He was a man not beholden to the laws that governed humanity or the morals and ethics that ruled one’s souls.
Was he a higher being?
Surely not, but there were times when his brilliance and his sheer alien nature far outweighed what you thought you had known about him.
So, it was with much trepidation—and maybe a little curiosity—that you woke up in the morning, a few seconds after your alarm had gone off to see that the world’s greatest detective was in your bedroom peering down at you.
As was said before, you had known L for quite some time, even if he did take most of the credit for the cases that you worked on together. Most of the time, L opted to stay behind the computer screens and had coerced you into representing him when Watari could not, but there were other times, rare and unusual, when he would actually venture out into the field and pursue criminals and the like for himself. You may not always see him in person, but whenever you did, the memory of what he looked like burned itself to the sensitive flesh of your eyelids like a brand on livestock.
You would always remember the shaggy hair, the dark black eyes that belied only passive disinterest. Most of the time, he would wear an oversized shirt with long sleeves, the color of an off white shade that must have been pure alabaster at one point. His legs, long you thought, were encased in even baggier jeans that only barely hid his bare feet.
Not once had you seen him wear something outside of this particular getup.
You had asked a particular question once when you were younger and not as kind to L. Yes, you regarded him as your superior—who in their right mind wouldn’t?—but you didn’t think of him as anything more than that. Reputation wise, you would have thought him aloof and arrogant (which he was and more), but you also saw in him a strange charisma. You saw in him someone who was determined to solve any puzzles that piqued his curiosity just for the sake of knowing and being the one to know it in the first place. It was leagues short of noble, but his detective work had put many criminal organizations behind bars, so you couldn’t bear too much judgment against him.
It was that strange charisma that reached out to you and made you want to seek out what was common to all humans: a chance for connection.
You asked, “Do you always wear the same thing?”
Not wanting to seem rude, you had softened your words and added a teasing lilt so he could shrug it off as a joke if he so wished. Looking back, you knew that he would take the question apart in his own way, always so serious in that distant way of his, but at the time, you were earnestly looking forward to his answer. There was only so much you knew about him and only so much courage you had to enact upon your curiosity.
It was with bated breath that you heard him say:
“No.”
And that was that.
He returned to his computer screen and sheaf of documents that lay underneath a tray of French and Italian pastries and pointed you in the direction of your next assignment. You had scoffed, almost in awe at just how much effort he put into that one response (which was absolutely none), but you had accepted it. At the very least, you were paid a hefty sum for your diligent work and because you were L’s little underling, you didn’t have to worry too much about job security.
He handled that for you.
For a time, you conceded that the most that you would ever know about your employer and pseudo-confidant was that he was insanely rich, brilliantly intelligent, and that he liked pastries with strawberries best.
And that he liked wearing the same outfit every day.
Until now.
L cocked his head to his left, looking like a bird who was seconds away from pecking your eyes out should you make the wrong move.
Fortunately for you, the world’s greatest detective wasn’t keen on getting his hands dirty. Instead, he leaned closer to you, tip of his thumb resting at the bottom of his lip, and hummed.
“You shouldn’t leave your laptop resting on the bed when it’s still on. The heat absorbed by the sheets and mattress could damage the insides.”
You blinked, not quite willing to understand that your employer was in your bedroom—squatting atop your clean bed sheets while barefoot!—you took in something that probably should have alerted you from the start that today was going to be an adventure in not going insane.
Because.
L.
Your boss. Your employer. The man who signed your paychecks.
Was wearing the top half of your pajamas.
You blinked, not willing to believe what your eyes were telling you. However, instead of seeing an old shirt that you had repurposed into being your nightwear disappear into his customary attire, it seemed to become clearer and more apparent that your boss was wearing your clothing.
You had to ask, though.
To be sure, of course.
“Thanks for the advice.” You cast your gaze to the laptop that hummed sleepily at the foot of your bed, fully knowing that you were going to end up sleeping with it like a pillow for the rest of your life if you could help it.
Not wanting to ignore the L shaped elephant in the room, you faced him again and blanched when you realized that he was staring at you again as if you were a tumor and he was the surgeon tasked to extract it. And yes, it was not as comforting as it sounded.
“Is… that my shirt you’re wearing?”
“Yes. It’s remarkably… comfortable.” He paused for a moment to chew his thumb—to which you noticed his nails were once again close to the quick—and said as an afterthought, “It’s short notice, but I have another case and I need to use this particular location as headquarters. Until then, you will be compensated well for your discretion.”
Without waiting for your reply, L hopped off the bed—was he wearing your repurposed pants too?—and shuffled towards the door and exited.
Sometimes, you thought you knew a lot about L.
Today, you just realized that you didn’t know him at all.
Well.
There is one thing to be gained knowledge-wise: he rocked your shirt better than you ever could.