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A splash of milk tempered the pungent flavour of a perfectly roasted cup just enough to keep the thoughts at bay. For now, at least. Even trying something different couldn't completely stop the subconscious dread that slowly seeped back into his mind. At least the darkening twilight was another welcome distraction, Prism Tower standing proud against the fading light despite being stripped bare.
L chuckled dryly and pulled his jacket tighter around him. It wouldn't be long before the night's battle zones sprung into effect, and he wasn't entirely keen on the idea of being caught. It was best if he simply remained a hushed whisper, a bogeyman, a horrendous cautionary tale of hubris…
L startled to attention as Grisham set a plate down in front of him. On it sat a single, perfect golden croissant. Then Grisham slid into the seat across from him, hands neatly wrapped around his own drink. For a moment, just the tiniest of moments, a tiny flicker of pride for the young man peeked through the self loathing that typically filled his mind, before promptly being blotted out once more. A tool didn't deserve this kindness. He should simply be put on a shelf, out of sight, until he was deemed useful once more. A tool didn't need to be in tip top shape, it just needed to be functional. A rusty spanner could still loosen or tighten a bolt.
“Grisham…” A polite, if uncertain greeting. L willed his arm steady as he lifted his cup, distracting himself, drawing out the process of taking a sip. He could feel the tension in the air, feel Grisham boring a hole into him.
“Lysandre.”
L paused, cup half tilted. His hand trembled, just briefly. That name followed him everywhere like a shadow. He didn't have the right to correct it. As bitter as the name was, he was Lysandre. He didn't deserve to hide behind the name ‘L’ and keep his memories stashed in the perfect lockbox.
He took a deep breath, steadying himself, and set his cup down. “You and Griselle have…grown.” He lifted his gaze, just for a moment, then shamefully found more interest in the ripples of his coffee, fingers drumming the cup. Anxiety. Pinned down. Nowhere to go. Grisham was difficult to read, but there was no doubt in L’s mind he was (rightfully) scrutinising just how far his idol had fallen.
Unable to bear the silence, L broke first.
“You have both become young adults anyone should be…proud of…” L raised an arm and gestured broadly to the little set up around the truck. For everything going on - the rapid implementation of wild zones, displacement of both people and Pokemon, it was nice to know someone was trying to help. L swallowed down his frustration, keeping his expression…calm.
He'd seen the headlines. Read the articles. Watched the news reports. Seen the brush Lysandre had been painted with time and time again; the disgust his recognition was met with.
Grisham nodded, the tiniest dip of his head. In the silence that followed, L contemplated apologising. Again. ‘Sorry’ seemed to be his favourite these days, not that it carried much weight in comparison to his actions. Sorry didn't undo the damage to Geosenge Town or the disruption he'd caused to its residents. Sorry didn't exonerate the people who had believed in him, who had been sentenced for the crime of falling victim to pretty words and charisma.
Sorry wasn't a word he was worthy of saying.
And yet, Grisham always seemed resolute to challenge that. L could sympathise with him, on some level. Grisham had looked up to Lysandre, had known him before he had poisoned his own mind and allowed it to cloud.
He'd been too busy wallowing in his own fount of misery.
“...-cause Team Flare was sabotaged by A-”
“Grisham.” His voice hadn't carried such strength in a long time. It was almost…chilling. Too much a reminder of a man who should be put to rest. L cleared his throat, fingers drumming over his cup faster. “Grisham. Even if AZ hadn't provided a perfect weapon…” His leg bounced. Skin prickled. Gaze drifted, anywhere except Grisham. Oh, he knew of the undeserved sympathy Grisham held for him. That was dangerous.
“I have my doubts that anyone could have prevented me from using what tools I already had.” L hung his head, grip tightening ever so slightly around his cup, crinkling the cardboard.
“If there wasn't even a weapon to start with, would the idea have even crossed your mind?”
Could he answer that? Would his delusions have driven him to create something so destructive, rather than seek out what he had already known existed? Only Lysandre could answer that.
“Perhaps…I might have questioned myself more,” L conceded with a quiet sigh. It was simpler, after all, to simply take what was so freely offered (or left unguarded). After everything he'd given, had Lysandre thought himself deserving to finally take? Or had he just succumbed to entitlement?
Grisham was silent, leaving him to his own thoughts and questions as he drained his cup. Whether he was taking to heart what L had said, or not, was impossible to tell. Minds didn't change overnight, after all. He let out a quiet sigh, drawing Grisham's attention.
“I fear the name may be a bit on the nose for some people, but you're doing something with good intentions. There are people in Lumiose who would consider your organisation a blessing.” L slowly stood and tugged up his hood, leaving the croissant untouched. After a moment's pause, he pushed the plate towards Grisham. “You should not look up to me as you do. I lost all good will when I…when I did what I did.” He tentatively reached out, resting a hand on Grisham's shoulder. To his relief, Grisham only sat there, expression unreadable as ever. Maybe that was worse than if he'd at least said something. “I think some things are best left buried beneath Geosenge Town.”
Lysandre…Team Flare…just to name a few.
“I will take your words into consideration.” Grisham held his gaze, eyes narrowed. L looked away first, glancing up at the sky, then out at Centrico Plaza.
It was time for the rusty old spanner to be tossed back in the box once more.