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Little footsteps patter back and forth wooden floorboards in the upstairs area. It’s barely audible, and Watari would’ve missed it if the orphanage wasn’t so quiet. The children should all be fast asleep by now. Watari believes that bed time is the kids’ most favourite time of day, except for L.
Watari became aware of it after finding the boy constantly hunched and tapping away on his computer. Miraculously, though, L manages to maintain a well-functioning brain no matter the hour, so Watari isn't too worried about his mental performance. However, it isn't common for L to make a ruckus, so Watari begins assuming otherwise. He abandons his late night brew and silently ponders upstairs to investigate.
When he reaches the top of the long hallway landing, he catches the boy mid-journey, adorned in what appears to only be his long white top, the hem just about covering most of his thighs. L halts and looks up at the man with his usual wide-eyes and little frown.
“L,” Watari says calmly. “Where are your pants?”
L subtly glances down then up.
“Nowhere, Mr. Wammy.” He says flatly. Watari tilts his head to the side.
“Nowhere?”
“Mhm.” L nods. Something's up.
“May I ask what you are doing up at this hour?”
“Don’t need sleep.”
That much Watari knows, but it doesn’t quite explain the boys frantic roaming and lack of leg wear.
“I know,” Watari says gently. “You don’t have to sleep. But I am curious as to why you are walking around without your trousers..”
The children of Wammy’s tend to have very strict taste when it comes to the clothing they wear. Some prefer a singular pair of pyjamas made out of a very specific material, and L despises anything on his feet and loves all things baggy. He doesn’t particularly enjoy being unclothed, and he relies on Watari to both dress and undress him, so this is strikingly unusual.
L doesn’t respond. Instead he brings his hand to his mouth to nibble on his thumb, anxiously glancing from his bedroom door to his feet.
Watari will never push for answers. He respects L as though he were another adult, but when something quite as bizarre as this happens, it is inevitable to have to invade a little. L is still a child, after all, and Watari cares deeply for the boy.
“May I assist you to your room, then?”
L quickly rips his thumb from his mouth. “No!”
Watari panics when it echoes throughout the entire building. The last thing L needs is curious children getting up in his business..
“L, please be mindful of the other children. May I ask what has you so agitated tonight?”
L shakes his head, and Watari is stunned into silence when the boy ducks his head and shields his eyes with his forearm.
Never, not ever since L has been here at the orphanage has he once shed a tear. The other kids find him to be rather off-putting due to his constant flat demeanour and direct tone, so seeing him be reduced to such a state twists Watari's gut a little.
“L, what’s the matter? Can you explain to me what happened?” He levels with the boy on one knee, his tone soft and coaxing. L chokes out a tiny sob behind his now wet sleeve, and suddenly, he's gripping Watari’s tail coat by the cuff and gently tugs. Watari stands and allows for him to lead him toward - presumably - tonight’s disturbance.
L points, and there, not-so-discretely hidden in the little trash can, are L’s crumpled up trousers.
L keeps his gaze downcast, utterly ashamed. Watari clicks his tongue, but not to scold. Never.
“Oh, L, is that what all this is over?” He kneels again, pressing a large, warm hand to L’s back. The boy attempts to hide his face again by wiping away his tears with his stretched out sleeves.
“R-ruined.” L croaks. “I was sleeping for not even long and I ruined them, I can't wear them ever again! The bed is, too. I was going to change it myself.” He really wasn’t sleeping for long! He must have only closed his eyes for a little while, a couple seconds at best!
Watari's brows furrow and he looks at the soiled blue material sitting next to him.
“Silly. They aren’t ruined. We can quite easily wash them-“
“No, the - the material will feel different! It felt too-on my skin.” L worries, gesturing down at his bare legs. Judging by L's earlier back and forth upstairs, it is most likely that he has already gotten to cleaning himself off - another issue they often face due to his extreme distaste for rough cloth textures, (he also generally does not favour traditional bathing). They make do in other ways, and Watari is working on producing the perfect solution to make L’s life much more comfortable. He’s still learning about him, and right now he is looking at Watari with such panic in his eyes that it tugs at the man’s heartstrings.
“The material will be exactly the same as it was before. It always is after being inside the washing machine, isn’t it?”
L shrugs. He knows that. He knows how washing machines work. Even ovens and microwaves and stoves, but the way his only durable pair of trousers felt was so horrible and he never wants to feel it again.
“And I’ll take care of the sheets. That my job, isn’t it?”
L nods. He supposes so..
“Come here.” L doesn’t hesitate when Watari opens out his arms for him. He wrap himself around his body securely and rest his chin on the mans shoulder with a pout. “We’ll deal with all that in a bit. Do you want tea? I was just making some.” Watari says as they venture downstairs. L nods vigorously at the sound of tea. Especially if it's overly sweetened.
“And cake?”
Watari chuckles.
“And cake.”