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When L awakens, body groggy and aching, he’s greeted with a too-sharp smile and the caressing murmur of “I loathe you.” His good eye blinks, and the gaunt face fades before he can register that it was even there.
The words it said all but forgotten.
Later, when L pauses in front of a shining shop front, he glimpses a towering shape beside him. A dark figure, clad only in black and orange, glares at him but when L turns to face them...
No one is there.
As he limps down a deserted alleyway, hunting for some solace from those that only wish him harm– Although it is harm L rightfully deserves. A second set of footsteps join his own, the same heaviness and gait, though not limping. Polished boots stamp at the ground as if they wish to punish it, or punish L’s ears at least, yet they stop when he stalls for a pained breath,
And L knows no one will be behind him should he turn back.
In a cold corner, deep in the sewers, abandoned by even Zygarde for the night, something sits next to L in the semi-darkness. A flash of an orange mane, gleaming teeth and too-pale skin lingers in his periphery.
Daring not pay it any attention, he ignores them best he can, as he does in the daylight.
However, alone in the darkness, no one can stop them from reaching forth, grasping his beard and dragging his gaze so they are finally face to face.
L stares into that mirrored unblinking blue eye, since the other is smeared in blood and gore.
Red lips stretch unnaturally around their next words.
“I loathe you.” It whispers as one would to a lover.
And when L screams... Only the figure before him hears it.