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“Are you serious ?”
L knew the first night would be particularly trying. He stood perfectly still in the threshold, watching Light’s immovable composure finally start to melt off. He knew it couldn’t last forever. The side of L’s mouth twitched up into a smirk. Another triumph. “Is the bed not to your liking, Yagami-kun?” L asked, keeping his tone as smooth and innocent as possible. As predicted, that effort only drove Light into even more of a sour mood.
“I’m not sleeping here.” Light’s words were ground out through clenched teeth, his irritability coming off him in waves. “You’re crazy if you think I’d share a bed with you.” He hissed, his almond eyes narrowed so tightly that they were nearly closed. L wondered if he could see anything besides his eyelashes with that expression.
Even still, L took long strides into the room, almost relishing in the slight pull the cuff gave his arm as Light was reluctantly dragged along. “Oh. Not to worry, Yagami-kun,” L spoke as earnestly as possible. “I hardly sleep anyway.”
“Of course.” Light groaned. L could practically hear the roll of his eyes in the words.
Later in the evening, even L found himself wondering why he would choose this fate. Everything about the room seemed to disturb Light Yagami. The window was shut, so he thought it was stuffy inside. The terrible, incessant clinking of the chain between the two made him feel absolutely crazy. Chain . Just the thought of the word made Light’s teeth grind against each other under the pressure of a tightened jaw. How absolutely infuriating L. Lawliet could be. Surely there could be another way for L to determine that Light was Kira. Light had only agreed to this to keep his dignity intact, anyway. In no way would he back down and admit defeat to L, whether he was Kira or not.
⛥♱⛥
Typically, L would feel no issue with Light’s complaining. He did it often enough in their time together that he was running out of ways to tell L that the constant typing on the laptop was absolutely driving him up a wall. Tonight, the bed shook with how often Light tossed, then turned, then tossed again. He never spoke at all to L that night, instead just trying to ignore the clicking and tapping. Light had stopped the movement eventually to lay on his side, facing away from L with the palms of his hands pressed against his ears.
Finally, it seemed that Light had found a position comfortable enough to sleep in. With a shrug, L continued his late-night work. It had been quiet enough for a while, the room’s only noise being the rapid clicking of the keyboard under L’s fingertips and Light’s gentle breathing. It was only when all the information L had been working with had finally clicked together that he took a moment to stretch his fingers and recline onto the pillows.
With the lack of something to consume his attention, L listened with a heightened attentiveness to the soft in and out of Light’s breaths beside him. With his own eyes closed, L let the back of his head fall gently against the headboard behind him. With his mind finally clear, he found that this new peace between them brought a new feeling of contentment. If not for the chain between them, L might even have thought that the serenity could be compared to… domesticity. No , L shook his head as if to shake the thought from his mind. He supposed that having someone asleep beside him was contributing to the gentle lull in his racing thoughts. It was simply human to feel at ease with other humans. With heavy eyelids, L’s gaze swept over to the boy sleeping beside him.
In this quiet, admittedly vulnerable state, Light looked sweet and young again. The worry lines had begun to set in by this point in Light’s link to L. Even Watari had voiced disapproval at how L had been accusing Light of being Kira despite he and L both knowing the boy couldn’t have held up a memory loss act for two whole weeks without any cracks in his resolve, no matter how manipulative he’d proven to be in cases prior.
With a huff, L finally shut his laptop with a small click . Setting the device on his bedside table, L disdainfully considered that it was always Watari’s words that wormed doubt into his mind, that made him second guess his tactics. L leaned over in the opposite direction, now towards Light and gently took the boy’s hands away from his ears. Even in his dreams, Light must’ve felt the touch, because L noticed the way his lips flickered with movement and his brows twitched. While gently situating his incidental roommate, L tried desperately to ignore how soft Light’s skin was and the way his half of the bed was a cocoon of lazy warmth.
As quickly as possible, L threw himself back to the edge of his side of the bed. He stared with wide eyes at the ceiling, with the tip of his thumb pushed just against his lips. How strange it was that his heart seemed to accelerate in its beating. His breaths came in quicker huffs as well. Might have to lay off on the sugar for a while. Try as he might, it seemed that L’s previous content had worn off as quickly as it came. Though, instead of keeping up a crime-solving mindset, L found himself consumed with pondering this strange excitement after the briefest contact with his sure enemy .
⛥♱⛥
The first nightmare was abrupt. In just moments, Light went from twinges in his facial expressions and soft gasps in his sleep to a slow motion sort of thrashing. L’s first instinct in that moment was to back away. He’d never been very good at dealing with his own terrors, so how could he be the one called to attend Light’s? Even so, it was L’s whole career to adapt. Constantly, with ever changing cases, L was to adapt and fix continuously at an unmatched speed. Light’s movement shook the bedframe just a bit, which was enough to pull L out of his internal rationalizations.
Truly, there was no time to analyze Light’s behaviors in a moment like this. In just under a minute, Light went from a criminal to be scrutinized to just a boy with a nightmare. L could understand him from this point of view better than any other. Despite his decision to act quickly, L was still hesitant in scooting his way across the wide expanse of their shared bed. And once he was able to drag himself to Light, he wasn’t even quite sure where to put his hands or how to go about waking the other.
All the reference L had to go on was a distant, foggy memory from his stay at Wammy’s House. The echo of that name held L’s breath hostage. The last time L ever let Watari comfort him after a nightmare had to have been nearing fourteen years ago. Still, with barely any information, L went through the motions as best as he could. Ever so gently, L laid his hands upon each of Light’s forearms, hoping to tame the wild movements that only seemed to gain momentum the longer L let him dream. With the pressure, Light made no moves to strain against L, though his signs of discomfort were evident.
L blew out a breath, letting his hands fall away from Light’s arms. “Shh..” he whispered when Light made another whimpering sound. “Light?” he asked softly, hoping to pull Light from whatever depths he was fighting against. Though he did not wake, Light did eventually quiet down after a bit, much to L’s relief. A sheen of sweat made Light’s face glisten under the swathe of moonlight entering the room. L’s wide eyes observed silently, finally having the chance to truly take in all of Light’s sharp features without the boy hissing in contempt. Again, L felt that odd floating feeling in his stomach at the sight of Light’s cheekbones, ever so defined by his resting expression.
Unsure of what could have driven him to do so, L lifted his hand from his side and gently swept a piece of hair away from Light’s forehead. Soft. No, it was silky. Of course, what did L think Light had all those different soap bottles in the shower for? The boy obviously had care routines that could rival Misa’s. But L didn’t want to think about Misa while he fell into a rhythm of gently petting Light’s auburn strands. Soon, even Light’s breathing evened from short, shallow gasps to something deeper and more relaxed.
When Light’s eyes fluttered open, it was morning and the orange aurora of sunrise shone through the blinds of the bedroom window. It wasn’t until Light’s mind fully adjusted to wakefulness that he realized his arm was slung across L’s midsection and L’s fingers were lazily threaded through his hair.
Neither spoke of the position after they finally found it in themselves to roll out of bed.
⛥♱⛥
“You’ve got to be joking.” Light’s voice came out sharp, his fists clenched at his sides while he stared harshly at the elevator doors, almost as if willing them to open of their own accord.
“Must be maintenance.” L replied, though the comment wasn’t particularly aimed at anyone. “Come then, Light-kun, we’ll have to take the stairs.” With one careless shrug, L began in the direction of the building’s seemingly never ending stairwell. It only took a few gentle tugs at the chain between them before Light’s glare could be redirected at L and his feet dragged on in a slow pursuit.
Another day, another clue, another plan. The days seemed to blur together into an unremarkable month. There seemed to be no evidence arising that would point to Light’s guilt and more facts were highlighting those part of the Yotsuba Company, particularly a certain group of men. L had much time to mull things over in his mind as the trip to he and Light’s suite would be longer than usual. He could feel Light’s irritation once they’d reached yet another landing.
Choosing to ignore Light’s huff, L spoke again. “Not much farther, Light-kun. We mustn’t give up now.” He noticed by the echoes of his voice that his voice inflected as almost jovial. He supposed he did find Light’s drama amusing, however often his fits.
By the time the two had finally reached the door of the suite, Light had taken the lead of guiding them through the threshold, only after swiping his keycard. With brisk steps, Light continued to their bedroom. Nearing the start of their second month handcuffed together, L himself had grown accustomed to Light’s strict schedule. It seemed to have carried over from Light’s home life, back when his routine consisted of sleeping, eating, studying, and enough socialization to keep his parents happy.
Tonight, something felt oddly different to L. Having been pulled into this routine just as well, he resumed his typical spot on the bed, close enough to allow Light enough length to wander freely from the bed to the dresser, but far enough away that neither felt that L was too close when Light was in the midst of an outfit change.
Usually, L had no problem finding a fixed spot of the carpet to stare upon while Light carried out his bedtime rituals. But if L knew anything in his time of knowing Light Yagami, it was to expect the unexpected. Tonight’s unexpected, though, was particularly odd. The silence between them was no longer as awkward as it had used to be. Being with another at all hours of everyday could do that to a person. What L wasn’t sure of was whether being with a person so often could warrant his brain to push his eyes in the direction of Light’s naked back.
His breath hitched ever so slightly at the sight. As with every part of Light, his back was smooth and pale. Even from behind, L could see every defined and hard earned muscle. Light’s body was lean, but at the same time, rather supple. L cursed himself for thinking it, but angels must’ve carved Light with their very own hands for how alluring he was.
At the turn of Light’s head, L was quick to revert his wide eyed gaze back to the carpet. Again, that cursed tickling feeling in his stomach started up again, and his heart beat at an irregular pace. With the pad of this thumb pushed against his lips, L willed himself to take deep breaths, no matter how he shuddered during the first few. He chalked those shakes up to the possibility of being caught staring, which L had found throughout his life that most people did not appreciate. With more meditation, he found it in himself to push the image of Light’s body from his mind and catch all the butterflies in his stomach to shove into a box somewhere within himself.
With all these considerations whirling through his mind, L almost didn’t notice that despite their delay in getting to the suite earlier in the evening, Light was taking a considerably long time in his routine. L was sure that by the ten minute mark, Light would be tugging the chain towards the bathroom for another round of daily skincare. Truly, how many creams can one face absorb? L had found himself pondering on one occasion. So, L dared another look in Light’s direction, almost disappointed that this time, Light had a white and blue striped short sleeve pajama button-up covering his back. But rather than wearing a matching pair of bottoms, he found that Light was still fiddling with the zipper of his dress pants.
Carefully moving from his perch on the edge of the bed, L’s footsteps were muffled by the carpet on his way around to Light’s front. “Is something the matter with Light-kun’s zipper?” L asked the question, though the answer was obvious by the way that Light was delicately tugging on it to no avail. L had found in time that it was better to broach subjects carefully through a question rather than immediately start helping Light. He was sure it had something to do with the younger’s pride.
“No,” Light replied through gritted teeth. He was obviously growing frustrated with the whole thing and despite how dramatic he often was, there were certain things he never liked to show L weakness on. Like stuck zippers, for example.
Almost without thinking, L lowered himself onto his knees before Light in one swift motion. “Let me help you, Light-kun.” He raised his hands to the zipper, almost close enough to touch before Light swatted his hands away.
“What? No!” Light’s expression had shifted from only a bit frustrated to downright angry. “What do you think you’re doing ? Get up.” He spoke again, though this time his voice was quieter this time, gently continuing to push L’s hands to lower them further after his rather aggressive smack.
“Light-kun is too prideful,” L remarked, never raising himself from where he knelt. “You’d be surprised just how nimble I am, Light-kun. It will only be a moment.” Again, L reached forward and was met with no resistance. Still, this rather comprising position hadn’t yet registered in his mind as he gently pulled stuck cloth from the mouth of the zipper. It was only when he risked a glance up to Light’s face that it seemed to wash over him.
Light’s hand covered his own mouth, his eyes cast down at L in a flustered expression. As more seconds ticked by, L’s eyes didn’t move away from Light’s face, even when he picked up on the pink tinge on the boy’s cheeks. Quickly, L averted his gaze back to the zipper and gracelessly yanked the zipper free from the cloth holding it in place. Having finally finished the favor, L got up from his knees quickly and kept his gaze down at his feet. “See? Not so bad.” He didn’t bother to finish the phrase, feeling his own face heat up while he moved away from Light to let him finish undressing in peace.
⛥♱⛥
Light is sat up upon the countertop of the kitchen, eyes downcast at his own feet swinging back and forth above the floor while L mills about in search of things to replenish the bedroom’s midnight snack stash. Light’s been in the room enough times to feel no need to look around. It’s all white and shiny grey and professional-looking, though he knows Watari is the one who does most of the cooking for the three of them and the rest of the detectives on weekdays. Misa typically liked to order out for her meals.
L is busy balancing several boxes of Pocky and chocolate panda crackers in his arms while he carefully reaches for some other sugary snack that would surely melt the teeth right out of Light’s skull. Once his fingertips finally graze the bright packaging, L’s voice startles him, resulting in the tumble of his desired snack, as well as several others, from the cabinet above.
“Nothing will ever go back to normal.” The words feel like a scream in the silence of the room. L’s still facing away from Light when the words settle like falling snow upon him. He stares forward at the scattered packages on the counter, Light’s words ricocheting through him while he processed.
L knew he must continue the topic with tact, as it’s something he knew would be sensitive, but was unavoidable given their current… situation. Still the words fall from L’s mouth like an uncontrollable spout. “No, it probably will not, Light-kun.” L knows he shouldn’t lie to Light. The boy always seems insistent on putting on a show, acting that he can’t tell when his peers are being untruthful. The tells of dishonesty can hardly be picked up, but L can see the soft, involuntary twitches of his face muscles when he can see right through his father’s reassurance or Matsuda’s rambling excuses. Light wouldn’t appreciate L’s dishonestly any more than the others’, he was sure.
For a moment it’s quiet again and L can feel the daggers of Light’s gaze boring into his back. Light scoffs and he can hear his slippered feet hit the tiled floor when he hops down from the counter. “I don’t know how many times I can tell you that I’m not Kira before you get it through your thick skull. Let’s go.” Having already lost his patience with the conversation, Light tugs on the chain on his way to the exit.
16% . L has the decency to keep that calculation to himself while he gathers all the brightly colored, crinkly packaged convenience foods and follows Light back to their bedroom. The tension in the newly repaired elevator could be sliced through with a knife, or rather, Kira’s very own pen.
⛥♱⛥
One of those nights, L had come to name it. A night in which, despite L’s begrudging abstinence to late-night work, Light tossed and turned and got them both tangled up in the handcuffs. So, the solution had been to return to the kitchen, to the scene of their last bitter exchange so L could put something together to help Light’s nighttime troubles. Light’s slippers scuffed the floor, an unusual occurrence. Usually, when he had to follow L around the expansive building, he kept his steps delicate and almost soundless. He often reminded L of a sneaky cat. But tonight, Light didn’t bother to pick up his feet at this late night hour.
In the darkness before L flicked on the lights, the digital clock on the stove glowed with green numbers, reading 12:15am. Though the time was nothing to L, Light’s body had a strict circadian rhythm that L almost envied. At times, it felt as though Light slept more in a week than L had in his lifetime.
“What are we doing down here?” Light asked, words slurred only slightly by his fruitless exhaustion. He shuffled quietly to his usual countertop perch, eyes squinting under the kitchen’s fluorescents.
L didn’t bother to answer the question as Light’s head hung low once he’d hopped up to sit atop the counter once more. He was sure his words wouldn't have much meaning to Light’s mind in this state. He moved about the kitchen, for once without Light’s watchful eyes while he mixed together a sweetened warm milk for Light. In the back of his mind, he wondered why he would even do something like this. L knew for certain he wouldn’t be going through these motions for any suspect in any other case. An involuntary thought resounded in answer, Light is different .
By the time he was finished, Light was practically asleep sitting up. His posture rivaled L’s in how horrible it was, and his eyes were having substantial trouble staying open. L eyed the warm mug in his hands, cursing himself for doing this. If he knew Light was going to act like such a zombie, he would’ve taken him on a walk rather than use up ingredients for a dessert delicacy Watari could whip up.
Still, L gently pushed the mug into Light’s hands and watched the boy perk up at the touch. He exhaled softly to calm the butterflies in his stomach at the slight brush of their fingers together. Really, he should get that checked out. “It’s sweet, warm milk.” L spoke softly, mindful of Light’s sleepiness. “Watari used to make it for me when I had trouble sleeping.”
In answer, Light sipped from the cup and smiled after swallowing. “Sweet.” He commented with a short, quiet laugh. L found himself wanting to hear the sound again and again. Though he knew it was probably strange, L kept his gaze upon Light as he continued to sip from the mug. When Light finally set the cup down, he looked wearier than ever. The sound of glass being set upon the counter pulled L from his thoughtless gaze.
“Ready to go?” L asked, his eyes flicking down to Light’s lips for just a second. There, he saw the white streak of a milk moustache and smiled. “Just wait..” he spoke again and leaned forward, using the cuff of his long sleeve to dab at the liquid. At the touch, Light moved his head back, that same pink dusting on his cheeks that made L so childishly nervous only a few evenings ago. L thought briefly that Light looked better with that bit of color on his face.
There was silence between them after, L’s hand still slightly raised towards Light’s face and Light’s widened eyes still set upon him. For that moment, L had thought he’d known everything. That was, until in one smooth movement, Light had leaned forward and their lips crashed together. It was graceless, clumsy, and completely unskillful on L’s part. And yet, in some confusing blend, it was perfect and the best thing L had ever felt. L had never known something so close and intimate as this. Where his hand had previously been held up to dry Light’s face, it shifted to hold the boy’s warm cheek instead. Light tasted of sweetened milk and mint, and smelled like the cologne he dabbed on every morning. L was sure that by the end of this, he’d be a puddle.
And yet… he wasn’t. Light broke the kiss just as quickly as he’d started it, his eyes still wide and his face an even brighter pink than before. His lips shone with saliva, but he made no move to wipe it away. “Was that…okay?” Light asked quietly in a sheepish way that was so uncharacteristically Light that L had to blink a few times.
“Yes,” L answered, the word coming out breathless and rushed. He was sure he looked no more confident than Light. His face was practically on fire, and his body felt so hot he felt anxious that wet spots of sweat would start to show through his pajama top. He cleared his throat and swallowed, fingers fiddling nervously with each other. “Yes.” L spoke again, hoping this time that he sounded at least a little bit more affirmative and composed.
Later that night, L couldn’t find it in himself to sleep at all. Instead, he laid in their bed with his eyes lazily roving over Light’s finally sleeping face. He looked so serene that L figured he could sleep enough for the both of them if it meant that L got to keep Light looking so unworried.
⛥♱⛥
Following the kiss, the workplace was much more peaceful. To the shock of the other men, L and light kept the back and forth bickering to a minimum. There were no longer any fistfights or constant yelling. Despite this being a relief, the newly established behavior was even more worrisome. Rather than test the length of the handcuffs by sitting as far apart as possible, their swivel chairs almost touched for how close they were. Light didn’t duck his head when L looked over his shoulder, instead he seemed to allow the closeness. The two even exchanged whispers that excluded the rest of the men.
While Aizawa insisted he was above workplace bets he still somehow fell into Matsuda’s trap and they were betting the odds of the next, perhaps fatal blowout fight. Despite time and Aizawa’s ever-growing debt, the two only seemed to grow closer. Small smiles morphed into quietly shared jokes and casual closeness blurred to borderline cuddling. Even Soichiro had no explanation to offer his colleagues about Light’s switch. He’d never seen his son so… happy.
After the men had shuffled out of L’s caseroom for the night, L even indulged Light and took a walk. Of course, it wasn’t quite what Light wanted, which was a walk outdoors in the crisp autumn air. L argued that, even in darkness, they could attract unwanted attention with their handcuffs. Light didn’t argue for the cuffs to come off even just for a walk. They both knew L wouldn’t let Light off the hook until he was completely sure the younger wasn’t Kira. And L knew Light was nowhere near being cleared of the accusation.
So, Light got his walk, no matter how dull and lacking in scenery. Along the way, down one of the many corridors in L’s hideout, when their fingertips brushed, neither said a word. There wasn’t even any sound when L finally intertwined his fingers with Light’s and led them into an inconspicuous room, there were no words besides quiet giggles between them.
While the first kiss they shared was soft and timid, the one exchanged in a random dark room was fierce and determined. L almost hadn’t the sense to truly feel what was happening, wholly absorbed by Light’s warm touch and his lithe frame under L’s own frantic fingers. At this moment, L decided that Light was a drug. He hoped, from the bottom of his heart, that there was something bad about this innocent boy. Otherwise, when L would be forced to clear Light from his suspect list, the separation would kill him before Kira’s pen got the chance.
And continuing with the theme, if L and Light stumbled out of that same room the next morning with mussed hair and the same wrinkled clothes as the day prior, Watari would not deign to comment.
⛥♱⛥
The case was bounding toward a close. With Light and L’s new alliship, their determined teamwork brought them closer to the suspected Kira than ever before. L had never felt so content while he worked, besides the brief, repeated satisfaction of completing the puzzle before he moved on to the next. His enjoyment nearly made him forget that this was all only temporary. Inevitably, this Kira would fall, just like the rest and the real Kira would reemerge. With this thought weighing heavy on his mind, L couldn’t bring himself to sleep at all, which was confusing given that he always slept the best when a case was coming to a close. In just days, they planned to take off and arrest the newest variant of Kira.
With all these factors racing through his mind in a violent storm, L almost didn’t notice the quickened breaths that accompanied Light’s nightmares. That was, until Light shot up in bed with a shout. Quickly, L set aside all his Kira concerns for the moment to sit up as well, brows furrowed in concern.
“Light?” He asked, moving closer to the boy, eyes scanning for anything wrong besides the mental terror Light must’ve gone through to wake with such a start. In their almost four months of L’s lockdown, Light had never woken so violently from a nightmare. Sure, he had them and at times would wake with a gasp, but never did he jump so suddenly like this.
“I’m not Kira,” Light whispered into the dark, keeping his head facing forward rather than face L. His whole body shook with fear, fists clenching and unclenching. “I’m not Kira.” He repeated it, voice shaky and raw.
“Light, come on, let’s go back to sleep. It’s late,” L refused to argue on this again. Despite their new closeness, this issue hung between them like a restless storm. L knew it as the one thing that would hold them apart for the rest of their lives. The lack of trust was too deep.
“No, Ryuuzaki, please,” Light finally turned towards L, eyes pleading. “I’m not Kira, Ryuuzaki. I’m not!” His voice verged on hysteria which could be counted as new behavior for Light. Even in a vulnerable position, L knew light to never act out. “I’m not Kira.” The phrase repeated again, but Light’s voice never strengthened in its resolve to convince L. He was shaky and unsure, even now; a fawn on new legs.
L sighed, realizing he was the one turning away this time. He kept his lips sealed and stayed quiet, trying his best to disregard the boy falling to panicked pieces beside him. It was absolute torture. It was quiet for a few minutes, Light’s breathing finally pacing back to normal and the midnight’s quiet finally enveloping them once again. That was, until L heard a sniffle and all of his stubbornness and anger fled from his mindset. L turned quickly back towards Light at the sound, concern burning away any cold expression that he might’ve worn before.
“I’m not Kira.” The words were repeated like a mantra. L was sure that it was. He couldn’t possibly guess how many times those three words resounded from Light’s core, all his belief channeled into the chant. “I’m not.” Light’s voice was watery and tears filled his eyes only to be blinked away in the next second. Sure, Light’s ego might be damaged after this, but L would’ve been foolish to believe that Light Yagami would allow himself to be seen crying by another.
With an exhale through his nose, L acquiesced. “Okay.” With a nod, he took both Light’s hands in his. “You’re not Kira.” keeping his voice low, he said the words as soft as he could muster and hoped Light could not see through him in the dark. 25% .
⛥♱⛥
The quiet wasn’t unusual. Light and L had always seemed to fall into silence during the evening. When L finally traded his computer screen for Light’s peaceful sleep, there had been much less bickering between the two. So, when Light’s bedside lamp finally clicked and enveloped the room in darkness with the soft mutterance of “goodnight”, L felt no pull to calculate any more Kira probabilities. Light had exceeded one hundred percent hours ago after snatching the godforsaken notebook from L’s grasp in the helicopter. Even if it was part of Light’s plan for his reaction to go unnoticed under a cool exterior, L still scrutinized the tremble of Light’s body and the way his finger lingered at his brow a second too long. Even Matsuda’s amateur skills could have deduced that the lock of Light’s jaw and the twinge of his lips into a frown were dissimilar to the typical, collected Light Yagami.
Even after Light’s breathing evened out into soft, open-lipped huffs, L felt no pull to his own rest. Again, this didn’t derive from their typical routine. And L hated it. How, even after both were sure that Light was caught, after L was finally, finally sure of his victory, had nothing changed? The earth still spun, the moon still cast a blue luminescence through the sheer curtains of the bedroom, the alarm clock’s blue numbers still flicked in an endless upward succession. On a night identical to this, L might’ve felt Light’s warm skin under his own cool fingertips and indulged in sweet kisses rather than raiding the kitchen for treats.
Still, perched on the edge of the bed, L stared intently at the ceiling. Nothing was different. This night was the same as every other. The room was casted in its usual blues, Light slept soundly at his side, and L still felt his heart ache deep in his chest. He felt almost as if a beast resided there rather than an organ. Within him, it thrashed wildly and howled its laments on all fours. With that in mind, L bitterly turned around to face the catalyst of such internal violence. There, L observed the gentle tremble of Light’s shoulders and slight twitches of his fingers. Keeping to his side of the bed, L watched Light go through the motions of one last nightmare.
Regretfully, L ignored the inclination to crawl from his bedside perch to steady Light. He refrained from caressing his skin another time, from leaving butterfly kisses on the boy’s eyelids. No, because things have changed, L understands. It is no longer Light who lies in this bed, but the cruel imposter who leeches the life from the host. Kira . With this thought, L resumes his position facing away from Light and lets his chin fall to the knees tucked to his chest.
Eventually, as they always do, Light’s breaths return to their rhythmic peace. In the quiet, L finds that his fingers have taken to caressing his own arm in long, light sweeps. His skin almost cries a soft weep, a longing for the soft warmth Light Yagami’s touch was always able to placate.
L takes a moment to contemplate it. Even if he were to feel the warm graze of Light’s skin, L was sure the touch wouldn’t be familiar at all. Rather, he thinks any interaction between them would now be filled only with uncertainty. Maybe he knew the body, but it wouldn’t be the same innocence with Kira’s ever present shadow hanging over Light.
⛥♱⛥
The uncuffing is strangely ceremonious. The remnants of the Kira Task Force stand in a semi-circle around L and Light to bear witness to the ordeal. Light doesn’t bristle under the watchful eyes like he would a week ago. Instead, he embraces the attention with a cool air, the corners of his mouth upturned in the slightest smile. He holds his wrist out to L and casts a sly glance around the group of witnesses with those almond eyes L had grown so fond of. His fingers hang limp, no tremor in them at all. L almost feels a surge of jealousy at how relaxed Light seems to be. His triumphant energy radiates off him in waves.
The detectives all exchange glances of mixed emotions; some unnerved and others purely glad that the uncomfortable citizen’s arrest is coming to a close. L gently plucks a small silver key from Watari’s outstretched hand and sets his own sable gaze upon Light’s golden eyes. To Light’s irritation, L pauses for a moment, holding his unblinking eyes in a trained stare. Inside, L’s heart beats fast and his blood roars in his ears. The thought crosses his mind to bargain. At what price will Kira end this tirade? L would sell his whole to Light, even if it meant ignorance to justice. Perhaps he was selfish.
L ends the thought by taking Light’s hand in his. The familiar warmth of the boy’s hand cracks his heart. Still, he inserts the key into the hole and twists.
Light, who I will leave, who is leaving me.
⛥♱⛥
The day marches on at an impossibly slow pace. Seconds trudge through snow to minutes, and minutes to hours. The hours feel like small eternities for how anxious he feels. L sluggishly deals with the final wrapping of the Kira case to the sound of Matsuda’s incessant bumbling about how happy he is that the case is finally solved, that they can all go back to normal, that he’ll call his mother as soon as he leaves today, that they must all reunite in time with drinks or even a party. L pays him no mind, staring at the screens before him if only to appear busy. Watari loyally replenishes L’s sweet stash throughout the day. Those are the only times L feels that he can pull himself away from his desk. Each time Watari returns, L’s eye contact is unwavering and he thanks the man in earnest. The older man’s hands are steady as they ever were. They both know the possibilities.
Light flits in and out of the room, never announcing why, he’s reliant that his sure steps are enough to silence any doubts the others may have. He may fool the room, but L knows Light can’t possibly have anything important to do. Almost like a young teenager again, Light is testing his freedom, finally able to walk outside of a six-foot radius of L and relishing in it. The circumstances keep L expressing any emotion, but when the automatic door whirs open for a sixth time within the hour, he can’t help but feel some warmth blooming within. This sweet sensation collides with the sense of urgency L feels every time Light leaves the room. The strong command comes from the more logical side of him, the demand his legs scream to chase after Light, though not for any fear for his life but for the heavy loneliness he feels without the boy he’d been tied to for weeks. Funny, how this day has the feel of a long funeral march, but the months he spent in Light's company was the fastest time had ever flown for L.
It happens just as unexpectedly for the others as L could have assumed for Kira’s intricate planning. It’s nearing late evening, when all the detectives typically disband for the night. L could feel it in the atmosphere, that odd pit that forms in his stomach when he knows something is about to go wrong. And still, the men around him stretch and gather their belongings, exchanging words and chuckling at whatever jokes they could muster after such an extensive murder case. The lights flash before the alarms sound. The room is washed in a dark red glow as the emergency bells blare. L’s head drops in resignation. So, Light had chosen. L closes his eyes before his intricate setup of screens all wash to a white screen. [All Data Deletion].
“Data deletion? What the hell’s going on?!” Detective Aizawa shouted over the screaming alarm, hands clasped over his ears for some semblance of noise control. His eyes squint against the bright white screens in an almost dark room, his features twisted into panic.
L spins his chair to face the men before him. He’s well aware that he hasn’t much time left, but he takes a moment to acknowledge each man who put forth all their effort to catch Kira. All efforts gone to waste, L knows. The weight of the thought is crushing. Soichiro is quick in grabbing his son’s shoulder, if only to ground himself during the fright.
“I made sure that Watari would perform a data deletion in the event that something should happen to him.” L spoke, his voice only slightly louder than usual hoping that it’s enough for his words to be heard above the panic alarms.
“ Something ? The hell are you talking about Ryuuzaki?!” Aizawa’s voice rose even higher, his anger and panic evident in his demanding inflection. L hadn’t the patience, or rather, the words to talk him through what would happen next. L’s eyes were only locked onto Light’s. In this moment, the room awash in red and panic, L could see right through Light Yagami. His golden eyes were wide, those soft lips L knew so well parted in a soft gasp. Maybe it was shock for the alarm, or regret for what he’d committed. L’s eyes traveled down to Light’s hands, no longer the still, relaxed ones that had held his own nights ago. Instead, they shook, one fingertip darker than the rest, blood still pushing through the pin prick wound. There, on the cuff of his long, white sleeves, was the glaring stain of red, of blood, just next to the watch on his wrist.
The scene was grisly and heavenly. A confusing blend, but L figured that was what he and Light were destined to be. Nothing but a violent whirlwind of conflict. There, right before his eyes, he was proven right. Light Yagami was Kira. His heart fluttered and he could’ve mistaken it for the way it always skipped a beat when he caught Light’s gaze. He could’ve smiled blindly in the face of death, but he wouldn’t. He couldn’t . This lightness he felt was not the result of any romance. It was death cackling in his ears like the rumble of thunder.
Light felt grateful for his father’s tight grip on his shoulder. It was all that could hold him up when L’s expression changed from that of knowing to unseeing. He hadn’t planned on wrenching from his father’s grip, or to break into a sprint when L toppled from his seat. He hadn’t planned on dropping to his knees besides the man, much less cradling his head in his lap. And still, tears pooled in his eyes, while he shouted and screamed for Ryuuzaki. He could find no joy in the helpless movement of L’s lips or the violent shaking of L’s body. He only felt despair when those wide eyes glazed and the only sound he could hear was the breathless lilt of Shinigami laughter in a room swathed in blinking lights, the loud and dreadful color of blood.