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“And you’re sure you’ll be ok over there? On your own?”
“Yes, dad. I’ll be fine.”
“Its just… a long way from home.”
“And I’m already here, and it’s fine. Really nice, really.”
”Really?”
Again, Light laughed, and cast a glance out of his room window. It was dreary weather out there, classic for early autumn in this hemisphere, and the kind of thing his sister would look at and wonder why people cared so much about such a dull place.
“Well… it’s raining.”
”God, don’t catch a cold, your mother will be worried sick-“
“I’m indoors, dad.” Turning away, Light leaned back against the window seat, smiling at his own bare walls. “It’s just a few continents away. I’ll meet you in Greece for the summer.”
”You’re coming home for the summer, young man. Me and your mother will buy your ticket, and Sayu needs to hear your Cambridge accent.”
“Alright. You’re paying.”
”We want you to do well, Light, but… it is a long way to go, just for study. Excuse your father for worrying.”
“You’re excused.”
”And don’t think you can start on disrespect, now you’re in England. I’ve got friends in MI6, I’m sure-“
“And… I think that’s my RA calling.” Light moved his phone away from his ear, dropping his voice in an effort to spook his father off the line. “Let’s not have a personal security detail in my first week abroad?”
”…Alright. Remember your family loves you.”
“I will. Thanks for calling.”
Light hung up, the smile sliding off his lips, and a small breath of relief slipped out with it. That was done. It would have to be done again, this time next week, but for now…
Someone really was knocking.
“Come in!”
It felt a bit silly, to pretend to have ownership of this space. It wasn’t even his room yet, it was four blank walls and a single bed that Light would be living in, for the next academic year, before he was flown back to Japan to fulfil his family’s need for his presence.
Maybe that was all the ownership he needed. Control, of this chapter of his life. England was a new frontier, but it felt good to get off his island.
The door opened, and a serious-looking woman with a laptop stepped through, sending all of Light’s hopes directly back down to earth. He recognised her lanyard, and her dress code as that not of a professor, but a member of the staff assigned to help freshmen with their dormitories. She was a member of pastoral.
“Mr Yagami?”
That was going to take some getting used to. His mother hadn’t been kidding, when she’d said Light might not be prepared for some of the cultural differences. He was sure he’d be begging for a ticket back to Japan, little sister or overbearing parents be damned, by the end of his year in this country of rain and bureaucracy.
“That’s me.” Light flashed one of his more charming smiles, mentally preparing for what it could be. Perhaps his father really had requested he get special attention, or maybe one of his forms had been incorrectly submitted and they thought he would need support with the language. “Can I help you?”
Be polite. This shouldn’t be so different, not if he maintained a good level of decorum. Light was sure he and the English could get along just fine, if they both kept smiling at each other.
The lady smiled, and nodded, without any of the trappings of nervousness that staff at his high school had had when they’d approached him with questions. A good sign. Light might be thinking too personally about this, perhaps all she wanted was a freshman survey every new student filled out, or a reminder of his dietary requirements, or to see his study visa.
“Yes. Me and the accommodation officer would like to talk to you. Nothing to do with you, or anything you’ve done.”
“Should I not make myself too comfortable?”
The joke came easy, and she laughed. Light felt his smile relax into sharpness. These people would be easy, or no harder than any others he’d handled before.
“Perhaps not. It depends if you want to do a favour for a fellow student of yours.”
Ah.
Light felt his smile… slip.
Of course L had pulled strings. He’d been the one that had encouraged Light all the way across the world to Cambridge University, like his own personal wraith coaxing him to England. Light had gone along with it thus far, on his own terms, and had somewhat assumed L’s interest would wane now he’d pulled off what he likely regarded as an elaborate prank, for his own entertainment.
In all honesty, Light had thought L would have friends in England. He had few enough in Japan, and Light found it hard to imagine that even someone as unlikable and eccentric and disquieting as Ryuga couldn’t have a single ounce of a social life somewhere on this planet.
Then again, it wasn’t beyond the realms of imagination to think that he was the only person in the world who had time for L.
Light didn’t need to pretend not to be disappointed, that L had reappeared in his life so swiftly. His smile was genuine, if exasperated, and it was only the lighthearted reluctance that was truly fake. In actuality, L’s mention had him buzzing. England seemed banal, a fresh challenge, but nothing out of Light’s expectations. With L… everything was more interesting. And now they were on his home turf.
“Can I know what kind of favour? To prepare myself, you know.”
If Light had been asked, he’d have theorised that L would be demanding a room nearby. His classmate for the past year always seemed to get a kick out of being near him, insisting he simply worked better with Light around. Light would call him clingy, and let him inch their desks closer together until they were touching.
The question then, would be how L was managing it. Perhaps he would simply play on the diversity quota, make one of those tone-deaf arguments that always worked for him that two Japanese-origin students beside each other would create a sense of international community. Give the foreigners each other as friends.
“Ah… the accommodation officer can explain. You... seem to have an idea of what this is already.”
Strange. She seemed apologetic. Like this was bad. Perhaps, although Light would love to put it past him, L had called in some report on his behaviour already, done down his credibility so he could get a head start in their shared academic path.
But, then, why the accomodation officer in particular?
Light nodded, and didn’t push his luck by pressing further. He had enough to work with, and his bags had been left in reception anyway, whilst he made sure he’d been given the right room and that it was liveable. He was taking no chances, in a new country.
“I might. Sorry, I’m- ready to go.”
Hitching his backpack onto his shoulder, Light followed her out of the room, letting the door close behind him with an air of finality. If L was involved, and already fancied interfering, Light doubted he’d be getting any of exactly what he’d expected.
Although…
This place was already beyond a few of his expectations. The gardens alone, darker than the ones he was used to, but… older, in a way. Everything felt steeped in history and storytelling, like something out of a germanic fairytale. The brickwork had vines growing up it, and Light had heard tell of secret passages to the student bar, and every room he’d been shown in the tour felt like it was lifted straight out of a textbook, ready for the next great discovery.
L couldn’t soil this for him. No, this seemed the perfect place for the gremlin that had lured Light halfway across the world. He could imagine L crouching under one of these trees, peering at one of his hobby murder cases, black hair as wild as the branches in the autumn wind.
Not a bad place to live, for the next few years. Light dreaded to think what Sayu would make of his accent.
The grass crunched underfoot, and Light could imagine how royal schoolboys had felt, as they approached the towering structure the was the administration’s block. Everything had to be imposing, around here. No sleek lines, just age and experience and a sense of how small you were, against eons of greatness.
More fool the English. Light had confidence enough to outdo all of them.
“Just… in here, Mr Yagami.”
She held open the door to an office, and Light was almost surprised, that L wasn’t already crouched in a chair like the uncivilised excuse for a genius that he was. If he had to be associated with someone on sight around here, he did wish it was someone a little more presentable.
The accommodations officer was sat behind the desk, the same one Light had explained his visa from behind, realising only a terrifying half an hour before that he’d been guided through the entire process by L, who was reasonably sure had also done some of it for him. It had all been perfect, but the anxiety had taught him to triple-check all of his documentation.
The upside was, Light was already comfortable, sitting neatly in the chair with all of the polite readiness to help that he wanted to show the faculty. He was no normal student. He could be everything they needed from him.
“Yagami Light.” The officer smiled, holding out her hand for Light to shake, which he did, exactly the way his father had taught him. “An honour, as usual.”
These people had a strange sense of humour. Light was sure he’d get used to it. Better than L’s at least, which was non-existent aside from his own poorly-timed jibes.
“Likewise.”
“Don’t worry about being here. Nothing for you to worry about. That’s why you’re here first, actually, so there are no unpleasant surprises. This is purely on your friend’s behalf, since-“
“Ryuga?” Light feigned a little surprise, and squashed the bitter yet warm feeling of L being his default friend. “What’s he done now? This is his country, more than mine, so… I’m sure he’s got a few warrants back here that I didn’t know about.”
That felt right. Warm, amicable, amusing. A little dark, in a way that should endear him to bored intellectuals such as university student ambassadors. Showing he knew L, enough to joke about him in such a way, while presenting a little of his own naivety, just to shield him in case this situation did turn sour.
“Ah. Well. Hideki Ryuga has never attended this university before, but we have been provided… warnings. By him, in fact, which is- unusual, as Miss will tell you.” The officer nodded to the lady who’d accompanied Light this far, and now sat behind the desk in the corner, her laptop open. She returned a nod, with the bashful sort of expression that told Light they didn’t normally tell students these things. “He gave us a dossier, in fact.”
“Of?” Light sat forward, the picture of an intrigued, yet polite, schoolboy. “He’s not dangerous, is he?”
“In a way. Ryuga has been signalled otherwise us as having existing mental health accommodations that require our slight intervention. Even if- no school has been recorded to have acted on them before, it is all signed off on by registered psychiatrists, and he seemed perfectly serious when we were presented with them.”
This time, Light didn’t have to fake his shock.
L. His L, who danced out of the way of a single attempt of Light’s to ask after his home life, past, or even asking if he was ill. With documented mental disorders, or health issues, which he had… handed over himself.
It smelt like a scheme. A very neat way, for L to bend the faculty’s arm. Of course he would have no compunctions about manipulating a student heath system.
And, far be it from Light to have any reservations either. He was always happy to see L’s games unfold.
“…Oh. I… never would have thought.”
It sounded a little insincere, even on his practised tongue. Light had thought, of course he’d thought, he saw L’s depressive moods, he saw his emotionality and his strange way of seeing the world, his dark fixations and his ability to see and focus on and feel things other people couldn’t. Even without all that, anyone who went barefoot in school showers and the exam hall had something a little wrong with them.
Of course L had something wrong with him. The surprise was that he’d ever tell anyone willingly. Light would certainly do no such thing, if he’d ever indulged the passing fancies of diagnosis that had passed him by like any teenager.
“He had been very mature about it, especially without the involvement of his registered guardian. His accommodations are… relatively simple, and little we wouldn’t already allow at a student’s request, but there is one specific, important factor.” The officer produced a printed form, and spun it around for Light to see a picture missing, and L’s fake name typed across the top. “According to his psychiatrists, it would be unsafe for him to live alone. You happen to be the only person he knows, in this college.”
How clever, of L. How neat.
Sighing, and trying his hardest not to smile like a child noticing his friend’s lie to get them on the same team for sport, Light obediently read over the form, happy to know a little more about whatever bullshit L had spouted to play the system to his advantage.
Except, it was less bullshit than anticipated. L had committed to this, apparently. All of the symptoms matched Light’s mental profile of him, from the disordered sleep, to the similarly disordered diet, to the motivational deficiencies, to the emotional ‘desynchronisation with standard society’, which he was reasonably certain L had written in verbatim in his pettiness.
Light was almost genuinely worried for his gremlin, when he sat back, his brow furrowed in concern.
“I had no idea.”
Lying. But it got him the appropriate sympathetic looks, so Light pressed on in his noble crusade of worry for L’s mental health, filling in the blanks they were clearly nervous to approach him with.
“If he needs me as a roommate to… keep him safe, and- make sure none of this gets out of his control-“ Light would enjoy that power too much, if he ever managed to get it in writing. The thought of having administration-approved control of L’s sleep schedule was nearly enough to break his facade. “I’d be more than happy to.”
The officer’s relief was clear. Light shouldn’t feel as smug as he did, really, because all that would do for him would make people wonder if he’d orchestrated this whole affair out of some twisted need for control over his apparently helpless friend.
He did feel a little smug. On L’s behalf for such a masterful plan, and on his own for his handling of it. Even if L had handed the opportunity to him, this should earn him impressive goodwill from the staff, and a little sympathy, once everyone got to see how annoying L was to deal with.
“Thank you, Yagami. Can I call you-“
“Light. Light is fine.” Amiably, Light smiled, and didn’t bother to try to recall her name. “I feel honoured, that he trusts me with this.”
“Well, it is a decision by the administration. This is for his own good, even if he did happen to have other opinions on it. Which- just between you and me, Light, but Ryuga… well, I’m surprised he handed over his own documentation so easily. Just between us, not as faculty.”
“Oh, between us? Me too. Don’t worry. I’ll keep an eye on him.”
Light was just enjoying his own quip, when another knock sounded through the office, and the pastoral lady went to get it without a glance at either of them. The officer caught his eye, and smiled reassuringly.
“That’ll be Ryuga. He just needs to sign off, say that he’ll be comfortable with you. It sounded like you two will be one of our easiest accommodations this year, though.”
Personally, Light doubted that. L made few things in his life easy.
Comfortable, though, in a jarring way?
Absolutely.
Light relaxed back in his chair as L approached. He really was committed, it seemed, to this psych-ward-esque aesthetic. His feet were bare, his shirt draped over him like a sheet ghost, his eyes just as wide as ever with his thumb in his mouth and hair trying to escape his head.
He looked exactly like he always did, and Light was delighted, really, to have such a reliable constant. There was no helping the affection in his look, as L took in the scene, playing his part to the utmost.
“Good… day. I presume this is about my self-endangerment?”
“Good afternoon to you too, Mr Hideki. This is about your mental health accommodations, yes.”
“I want him.” L pointed at Light, with the finger that was most frequently in his mouth, his bare feet shifting on the chair he was crouched in like some cave goblin, itching to be wild and free once more. “I can build us our own room, if there isn’t one available.”
In some ways, it was jarring, for L to act so unstable in front of others. It wasn’t any false version of him, more just one Light was used to seeing in private. He was almost insulted, that L would lie his slight insanity so bare as a weakness, to these strangers.
When it was the two of them, beside each other, Light could hardly help but feel they would be forever performing for the sake of the world, each the only ones privy to the other’s true self.
The officer gave a light laugh, and shot Light a pitying look about clearly being landed with their resident psychotic until such time as L got himself expelled. Light didn’t so much as note it. He was busy watching L, fondly, enjoying the splash of familiar absurdity against all this stiff, historical posturing.
“That… won’t be necessary, Mr Hideki. We can accommodate both of you in our standard rooms, alongside all your other accommodations.”
“Including my diet?”
“Yes… although, if I may be so bold, I am entrusting Mr Yagami to also ensure you are taken care of in regard to sufficient nutrition.”
L pouted, flickering over his face for an instant, and Light preened. He would abuse that power. It was a joy of his, to force-feed L lettuce, and watch him struggle not to gag on it, before downing normally an entire bowl of powdered sugar. Now, it was officially mandated.
“I… suppose Light-kun is very trustworthy.”
It was hard to conceal, how good it was to hear his name said properly. Light wouldn’t say he was stuffy, but it was such a reassurance, that L still knew his name how it should be said, by someone who knew him.
And L was clearly having difficulty concealing some displeasure with the situation, which only made Light’s enjoyment increase.
“I have full faith in him. You are lucky to have him as a friend.”
“I would not call myself-“
“And I am lucky to have Ryuga.” Light shot L a look that would almost border on sickly, beaming a saccharine threat directly into his narrowed eyes. “We’re helping each other in this new territory, aren’t we?”
“…I do not need help from Light-kun in my home country.”
Sinking back in his chair, L bit down on his nail, and seemed to have reached the limits of his good temperament with the meeting. That meant it was Light’s job, to steer them out of the situation, and get somewhere private for L to sulk it out of his system.
“Well. I may need some help, with the new customs. But you, senseis, have been nothing short of wonderful.” Getting to his feet, Light deployed another radiant, grateful grin, and offered another handshake. “Where would I find our new rooms?”
“Miss can escort you.” The officer took his hand, shaking it firmly and with no little relief of her own, and nodded to the pastoral assistant. “Thank you both for being so good about this. Feel free to call if either of you have any issues.”
“Or any compliments. I think I have a few already.”
“Light, you’re too kind. Best of luck for the start of term!”
Light waved, good-natured and altruistic as he placed a hand on the small of L’s back. He received an aggrieved glare for it, shot up at him in surprise, but merely smiled serenely, and steered L out of the office before he could make a scene.
It was an even shorter walk, back through the fairytale gardens. The lady seemed to have fulfilled her role of making sure L didn’t have a mental breakdown at his enforced roommate, and was thankfully introverted as she lead them across dewy, rich grass.
The double rooms were closer to the central block. Light deduced they were therefore nicer. He wouldn’t be surprised if L had paid extra, to somehow reserve one, or had merely planted the idea.
Speaking of L. He seemed genuinely despondent, staring at the ground more intently than usual.
Light would ask him about it. Ask what madness had possessed him to get a psychiatrist at all, let alone pull something so elaborate purely for the sake of them sharing a room.
“Here. Mr Yagami, your keys, and… your bags will be delivered in a few minutes.”
It was like being given his own apartment, as L skulked beside him like a moody cat. Light accepted the keys gratefully, offering a sincere nod that seemed more well-received than any overdramatic goodbye would have been.
It got her to go away. That was the crucial part. Not that Light said a word, or took his hand off L’s back, until they were both inside the set of rooms, and he had spent half a moment appreciating that this suite seemed far more outfitted than his original, single room.
Then, he let go of L, satisfied he wasn’t about to bolt, and shot him a knowing grin. Adrenaline was buzzing, from the meeting going so well, and fine, Light might be happy to see a familiar face. This wouldn’t be so bad, to come back to every evening.
“Nice work. Pretty committed of you, to get yourself diagnosed for the sake of rooming with me.”
“Light-kun should lower his expectations of me.”
L kicked at the floor, hands shoved deep in his pockets, and a flicker of unease rose in Light’s chest. He took half a step forward, and wavered, confusion furrowing his brow.
“You… planned this, didn’t you, L? Are you seriously upset she said I had to make you eat your five a day?”
“No.”
“What is it, then?”
“I didn’t plan this. No more than… choosing you as the least evil.” L took a deep breath, and set his shoulders back for once, looking up to take in their shared room. “Watari made me see a psychiatrist, before he let me come here with you, and it… was… excruciating. To say the least.”
“Wait- that was… real?” Light could hardly believe it, and certainly couldn’t stop his small, breathless laugh, at how miserable L looked. “God- you actually got… sectioned.”
“Congratulations, Light-kun. I’m officially a danger to myself for the sake of attending university with you. No, I did not plan to be interviewed about my safeguarding risks to this campus, or to be assigned a complimentary therapist I now need to dispose of.”
Light actually couldn’t believe it. L looked pissy enough for it to be real.
“So… wait. Watari- Watari?- only let you come to school with me if you got yourself diagnosed?”
“Yes.” L’s head dropped again, and he sighed, with a heaviness far beyond his years. “I have not attended a public university before. And Watari is… has acting powers as my guardian, at times when it is necessary. This was his requirement. He has… worried for me, and the amount of time I spend with you, which tends to subtract from the limited time I spend caring for myself.”
“So he made you spend more time with me?”
“That was my choice. It was Light-kun or a therapist, and I have strong preferences.”
That… made Light smile. Properly. And ruffle L’s hair, much to his grouchy displeasure, when he was clearly of the opinion that his mental and physical sanctity had been violated quite enough already.
“It’s ok, Ryuga. I can take care of you.”
“You will not. This is all purely formalities, to appease Watari.”
“Didn’t you hear the accommodations officer? I have a responsibility to make sure you’re taken care of.”
“I sincerely hope, for Light-kun’s sake, that he is not being serious.”
Light grinned. L stared at him, for once, like he didn’t believe what he was seeing, and Light got to witness, for the first time, L considering running away from his problems. It wouldn’t be a good idea for either of them to start a fistfight, not on their first day on campus.
“…Light-kun should know that I still have blackmail on him.”
“Uh huh. And I have the keys. And the teachers on my side.”
Frustrated and powerless was a beautiful look on L. Light would enjoy it for the rest of this year, and maybe get in touch with Watari to make this even more of an official thing. He was sure he could prove himself to L’s guardian as perfectly capable. It wouldn’t be that much of a challenge, to improve L’s quality of life.
“…Fine. I will… demonstrate to all of us that I do not need supervision. Light-kun should watch himself, if this kind of institutionalisation is an available option in our games.”
“I know better.”
“Light-kun exhibits symptoms of dissociation and depression over at least three noticeable periods each year, along with notable paraphilias which-“
“Ok. Fine. Shut up. I’m in charge.”
“Does Light-kun not want to talk about his fetishes anymore?”
“This-“ Light crouched down, one hand on L’s hunched shoulder to balance himself, his voice cheerfully sincere. “Is why you need supervision. Okay?”
L punched him. It was a brave move, when Light was in such a position to use it against him, and clearly an emotional one.
It had the intended effect, sparking both enough physical pain for Light to give him a little personal space, and communicating exactly the emotional toll this was taking on L, whose upset was clearly not being faked.
Light could cut him a break. He’d been getting desperate, bringing those things up, and he should have headed the warnings. Really, it was his fault his cheek was smarting, and L looked ready to flee the campus entirely.
“Okay.” Light covered half his face with one hand, his mouth slightly open as he panted. “That… was deserved. Ok. I’m sorry. We’re on the same side in this.”
“Light-kun rarely apologises.”
Well, he would be for a few days, by the sound of it. Light had never heard L this upset, without his concerted efforts to get as far.
“I’m sorry. I… am taking you and this seriously, and I will not violate any of your hard boundaries. I just want you to be safe, and I don’t want Watari breathing down your neck any more than you do.”
“…you liked the idea of controlling me.”
Now, Light felt torn, because that was the quiet tone of voice L used in lieu of his own apology. And, true, his attempt at redemption might have been a little less than pure-hearted, but L had nothing to apologise for either.
“Only… a little bit. It’s me, L. You gave me the chance.”
“If Light-kun agrees never to mention this, or.. exploit it, in any way I have not agreed to… that would be allowable.”
It was still his L. He hadn’t been acting about any of it, and Light couldn’t help but adore his nervousness. He was so rarely caught off guard.
“I’m making you sleep eight hours.”
“Four.”
“Six. And a vegetable every day.”
L looked almost physically nauseous. But he swallowed it, and nodded, and he must really want Light to stop talking, because he stood up straight again, and reluctantly held his hand out, extricating it from his pocket like a gun he would rather hold to his own head.
“And you help me wipe all traces of these documents from the psychiatrists’ and university’s databases.”
“Deal. But same arrangement next year, if Watari approves.”
“Deal.”