Work Text:
1.
L and Light hang up from their phones in unison and stand in shock and urgency.
“My father...!” Light says, stress and worry lacing his voice. “We've got to get to the hospital.”
Unfortunately, they can't just run out.
Light raises his hand for a waiter. “Can we get the bill?” he asks, careful mask cracking and giving way to panic. The waitress seems to feel the stress as well, because she nearly runs to get the bill for them.
“I'll take care of it,” L says. “Go to your father. I'll meet you both at the hospital.”
Light hesitates. “Are you sure? I can pay...”
“It's my treat,” L insists. “Go.”
Light nods and runs out the door without any more complaints.
2.
Two weeks after Light entered confinement, and one week after he went all soft-eyed and sweet-faced, L notices something.
At night, when Light is sleeping, he shivers and shifts in his bed often. It's midsummer, but he still spends every night cold, and wakes up often before struggling to fall back asleep. He does have a blanket— a thin, scratchy, navy blue thing— but nonetheless, L gives in and tells Watari to give Light a better blanket.
He delivers it himself, that night when Light is asleep. He unlocks Light's cell, whisks away the previous blanket, and drapes the new one over Light's shoulders before slipping out of the cell again and leaving without a word.
L watches especially close that night. Light does not shiver. He hums, feeling weirdly proud.
The next morning, Light wakes up and sits up awkwardly, hands still bound behind his back. He looks up, right where the camera is, and he asks, confusion visible on his face, “Ryuzaki?”
L turns on the microphone. “Yes, Light-kun?”
“Did you... is this a new blanket?”
“Yes,” L says, and does not elaborate.
Light doesn't ask him to. He just looks down at the much nicer, much softer blanket lying across his lap and says quietly, “Thank you.”
3.
“Ryuzaki,” Light says.
L ignores him.
Light tugs on the handcuff chain. “ Ryuzaki . If you won't come sleep, at least turn that light down, for goodness' sake.”
“I need to be able to see the screen,” L says. “And I certainly can't go to sleep. That would waste valuable work time.”
“Sleep is important for good mental health and energy to work during the day but that's besides the point. If you stay up clacking on the keyboard with the screen light turned up that high, I'll hardly be able to get any rest.”
“Close your eyes and tune it out,” L says unhelpfully, turning back to his work.
Light nearly growls through his teeth. “Ryuzaki—! Ugh.” He sighs and rolls over to try to sleep. It's unsuccessful.
The same thing happens the next three nights.
Every time it does, he can feel himself getting more and more pissed off. “Ryuzaki, for fuck's sake, neither of us have gotten good sleep in at least four days. We won't be able to work as well like this. Please can you just—”
Without a word, L digs around in his pockets and passes the contents to Light.
Light stares down at his hands. “What is this?”
“A sleep mask and earbuds,” L says. “So you can sleep through the light and noises I will be making.”
Light bites his lip.
“Thanks,” he says, and then, “But you should still go to sleep sometime.”
“I'll think about it,” L blatantly lies.
4.
Since L gave him the sleep mask, Light has stopped complaining about the light and noise, but he doesn't sleep any easier. Most likely it's the stress of being a suspect. L decides to try one more thing.
“Light,” he says one night.
Light doesn't react.
L reaches out and taps Light's shoulder. Light startles, then turns, yanks the sleepmask up, and tugs one earbud out. “What, Ryuzaki?”
“I noticed you've still been having trouble sleeping,” L states. He holds out his last attempt— a pill bottle— to Light. “I thought these would help.”
Light takes the bottle and squints at it, letting his eyes adjust for a moment. “Melatonin?” he asks.
“Watari says they're supposed to help you fall asleep,” L explains. “And your insomnia hasn't been getting better.”
“Oh,” says Light. “Oh, um, thanks, Ryuzaki.”
“Is it nightmares?” asks L.
Light shrugs. “I don't know,” he says. “I don't remember my dreams. I just have a hard time sleeping. I've always needed specific conditions to sleep, and this whole situation...” —he waves an arm around him at the room, the handcuff, L— “has not been helping.”
“I see,” says L. “I apologize for that.”
“Nothing that can be done,” Light says, and opens the bottle to swallow a pill.
5.
It's amazing, really, how terribly and how brilliantly Light and L go together when they're working.
Every day they sit side by side in front of the monitor screens. They analyze data, discuss theories, and search for Kira's identity together. They bicker, but they also help each other.
They fit with each other in the simplest ways. L places his bowl of sugar cubes in between their desks so Light can take one (and only one) for his coffee. L also places various plates of pastries and sweets in between their desks, so Light switches which side of the mouse he puts any papers on. When Matsuda walks by and offers them tea, Light automatically takes a cup and fills it with three creams and seven sugars to pass to L. When Watari offers them food, L takes the sweetest thing for himself and the healthiest thing for Light.
The longer this happens, the more fluidly it happens. Eventually, they act so naturally together that one would guess they'd known each other forever.
Every day, without fail, L offers Light an extra sugar cube for his coffee. Light always says no. “One is enough, Ryuzaki,” he tells him. “I'm not going to drown my coffee in sugar the way you do. I like the way it tastes as it is. I mean, can you even taste your tea through that much sugar?”
After months of this, it finally happens. One day, when Light is tired, he takes the extra sugar cube L offers. “Thanks, Ryuzaki,” he says automatically, stirring it into his coffee.
“Anytime,” says L. He watches Light drink his double-sugar coffee, pleased with himself.
(He means it when he says “Anytime.” From that day on, every day, he gave Light an extra sugar cube. Light realized it was happening by the second day, but didn't protest, just took the extra sugar cube with a sigh and dumped it in his coffee.)
+1
Light kneels before L's newly-made grave late the night after his funeral.
He recalls his words to his father earlier that day. Solving this case will be our last gift to him .
He sighs and places a hand on the top of the cold stone.
“Hello, Ryuzaki,” he says. “It's only been a few days, but I miss you already.”
The wind whistles. The trees rustle.
“Yes, I know,” he responds. “I know I'm the one who killed you. I miss you anyways.” Light sits on the grass and leans forward, resting his forehead on L's grave.
“I'm sorry,” he tells him. “Not sorry like I wouldn't do it again. I don't regret it. But I wish there was a way for me to win this without killing you.”
There's silence for a moment. This is Light's confirmation that Ryuk has left and floated off to find apples, because if he hadn't, he'd be cackling his head off right now.
Light smiles.
“It's like I said earlier,” he tells L. “Now everything in my way is gone. I will have my perfect world. It'll be just as I've wanted this whole time. It just won't be as fun without you.”
He sighs and leans back again. “I have something for you,” he says, and pulls a rectangular box of expensive chocolates out of his jacket.
“You can't enjoy these anymore,” he says somewhat bitterly, “and I know you can't even see them. Whether you're in heaven or hell or just gone. But I thought I might leave them here anyway.”
He sets the chocolates in front of the grave.
“Here,” he says. “As thanks for... everything you've given me. Literally and figuratively. You made Kira Kira. You gave me my purpose. You gave me— you were the only person who could ever dream of understanding.”
Light stands.
“I hate you,” he tells L's grave. “I'm glad you're dead. But also, I'll miss you, and I'm sorry, and...”
The wind holds its breath.
“Ah, that's the other thing I have for you." Light smiles sadly. "I love you.”
He tucks his hands into his pockets and walks away.