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The moment I touched the Death Note again was a moment in time I will never forget. My memories returned like a wave of power, crashing over me all at once. I could feel it in every bone in my body. Nothing else besides L can stop me now. He can’t do anything. He doesn’t know anything. Not compared to me at least, and I have Rem wound so tightly around my finger that she won’t ever speak of the fake rules. She can’t. And if she did, her precious little Misa would die.
It was perfect. Everything was so perfect.
Though, there was one small thing in the way.
L needed to die. That had been my plan from the beginning. Kill him, and nothing would stand between me and the world I was building.
And that’s exactly what I kept reminding myself, standing in the rain on the roof with him, water running down the back of my neck and seeping into my clothes, just watching L crouched there like some sodden crow. He seemed to relish being soaked in the rain. It was as if he enjoyed being drenched. His matte-black head of hair was plastered to his forehead and rain-water was showering down his face, soaking his lashes and wetting his lips. I stared at him. He stared back at me with those dark-ringed eyes as if he could see straight through my skin.
He had said something about a bell when I asked him why he was out here all by himself. He urged me to come closer, forcing me to get myself wet as well. L must’ve been hearing things… maybe he was going insane, more insane than I already gave him credit for.
“Forget it,” L said softly, looking away from me and at the ground, hunching his shoulders even tighter, “Nothing I say makes any sense, anyway.”
I grinned to myself. At least he was self aware. “You know, you’re right,” I said to him. Though, I was only half-listening, really. I couldn’t stop noticing how he was curling into himself more than usual. Odd, even for him. It was different. And personally, I take a private, ugly pleasure in believing I know L better than anyone else alive. So, if anyone in the world was going to see it, it’d have to be me. “Most of the things you say sound like complete nonsense. There’d be no end to my troubles if I actually took you seriously all the time.”
“Yes. I suppose that’s a fair assessment,” L replied softly. I found myself stepping closer to him without really realizing. Not because I wanted to hear him more clearly, no, I could actually hear him just fine. I wanted his face. I have never minded looking at it. It’s an oddly nice sight to see, and it’s comforting in a way that feels wrong and right at the same exact time. I couldn’t explain that feeling to anyone. “But I could say the same about you, Light.”
I was taken aback by that. So I asked, “What’s that supposed to mean?”
L finally looked at me again. On his face was a small smile, but his eyes were dark and half-lidded. Despite the cold rain a wave of heat rushed through my body and into my cheeks, quickly warming me up. I was suddenly frozen, the only thing I could hear was my pulse pounding in my ears and L’s soft voice saying, “Has there ever been a point where you’ve actually told the truth?”
I was stunned into silence. I thought of myself as a strong and clever man. After all, I’ve made it this far without being caught, I’ve managed to have people worship me, hate me, risk their lives just to find me. I was practically a God already. So why was L, of all people, making me feel like this?
“W-Where’s this coming from, Ryuzaki?” The stutter slipped out. I felt silly; I never stutter. This was his fault. I managed to recover quickly. “I can admit…. I stretch the truth here and there. However, find me one person in this world who’s never had to tell a lie. It wouldn’t be easy, now would it?” I stared at him despite it being so hard with that face. L was so different from anyone in this world. He had such a look to him, such an attitude that couldn’t compare to anyone. The way he occupies a room is uncompared to anyone alive. I respected him more than I respected my own father. These thoughts made the rest of my sentence hard to finish. “Human beings just… aren’t meant to be perfect like that.”
By the time I stopped talking, L’s smile had fallen. He gave me a look that could’ve killed. Then he sighed and looked to the ground again. “I had a feeling you’d say something like that,” he told me. “I know you well, Light.”
My heart was still slamming in my chest. But regardless, I began walking even closer. If I lifted my arm I could touch him. For inexplicable reasons I wanted to. I wanted to lift my arm. Badly.
“Let’s go inside,” L said suddenly, “We’re both drenched.” His eyes caught mine, then drifted down to my chest. They lingered there for a beat too long, but weirdly, I didn’t mind. “Your shirt is transparent now,” he mumbled. He stared in silence for a few extra seconds, like he was cataloguing it, studying it, then turned and walked away like it meant nothing.
My mind screamed. The blood came rushing back and now my heartbeat was in my throat. I followed him, of course I followed him. The chain wasn’t even on us anymore and I still moved like it was. Inside, the hallway was warm after the rain. Water dripped down both of us and onto the floor. We left our shoes by the door, grabbed a few towels and headed towards the steps.
“Well, that was certainly an unpleasant outing,” L said, walking towards me. I was already sitting down on the steps, dragging a towel over my face.
I scoffed. “I mean, what did you expect?”
“You’re right,” L whispered as he sat down a few steps below me. “Sorry.”
I stretched my legs out and leaned back, drawing a slow breath. The towel hung from my fingers and from this angle I could see the dark line of his wet hair at the nape of his neck. This time I was the one staring at the way his shirt clung between his shoulder blades.
L turned his body to face me, but I looked away a second too late. L was smart enough to already gather that I was staring at his back and the way his shirt clung to his body. In one sudden move, L’s hand closed around my ankle and pulled it close towards him. The moment his long fingers wrapped around my foot I jerked on instinct.
A sharp inhale caught in my throat. “What are you doing?” I asked him.
L looked up at me. “I thought I might help you out,” he spoke in his usual soft voice, though this time it was tinged with more focus, “You were busy wiping yourself off anyway…” His other hand came up and settled over the top of my foot.
“L-Look it’s fine you don’t have to do that,” I said, but I wasn’t pulling away. The rest of my words were sitting in my mouth anyway, because I actually enjoyed the heat of his skin against mine. It felt really good in fact. Comforting too.
L ignored my protest and instead tightened his grip. “I can give you a massage as well,” he offered, like it was the most normal thing in the world. To say I was shocked was an understatement. The pervy stares from earlier had already been strange enough, and now this. “It’s the least I can do to atone for my sins.”
I always enjoyed listening to L speak. That low voice of his was so easy to listen to. It was soft and even and it soothed me. Though tonight, it didn’t just settle in my ears like it usually does. No, this time it made heat drag down my chest and lower. I had to look to the side to hide the blush on my cheeks.
“Fine.” I sucked in a breath, trying to maintain my usual demeanor. “Do what you want,” I spat, as if this was something only he wanted, not something I wanted as well. Because I couldn’t be mistaken, I did want this. I wanted L to touch me right now.
“All right,” L murmured and began to drag the heel of his palm from the ball of my foot to the heel.
Heat crawled up my neck as he rubbed slow and methodical circles along the arch. His fingers were longer than they had any right to be and it was making my mind go p;aces I did not want it to go.
He was good at this. A groan slipped out of me before I could stop it, and that’s when his eyes lifted to mine. I could only stare back, breathing too hard, thighs tense and trembling.
“You’ll get used to it,” was all he said.
While his dominant hand worked on my foot, his free hand slid up the underside of my calf, pushing my wet slacks up with it. He adjusted my leg so it lay heavier across his thigh, and I felt him shift underneath it. He was close enough now that there was no pretending this was still just a massage. His thumb traced the back of my knee once, almost absently, and my hips twitched before I could stop them.
Water kept dripping from his hair onto my skin. His hair was still sopping wet. I reached for the towel because if I didn’t do something with my fingers I was going to put them in his hair myself. I dragged the cloth through the soaked black strands, slowly, pushing them back from his face. “Here,” I said, voice rougher than it should’ve been. “You’re still soaked.”
L looked up at me. “I’m sorry,” he murmured, but I didn’t know what he was apologizing for.
It was silent for a long time while he massaged my foot. I exhaled through my teeth and let my head drop back against the step above me. “You are good at this,” I admitted, out loud this time. Then I felt L’s hand slide up my leg more and then tug me down further, closer to him.
The pull yanked me down the steps toward him. My other foot slipped and my body folded closer until my knee was almost in his lap.
“Hey–!” I grunted, but he was already leaning over me. Close enough I could see the water still in his lashes. Close enough that if I lifted my hips just a little, I’d be pressed against him. My eyes widened, shocked, but L didn’t look the slightest bit fazed.
He watched for a second; really watched; gaze dropping to my mouth, then back to my chest, before taking his own towel and pushing my hair back from my forehead the same way I had done for him. I felt his knuckles brush against me, lingering for far longer than necessary.
“I’m sorry,” he murmured, “My hand got tired.”