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Light had an issue. A big one. He was currently handcuffed to the greatest detective in the world, and he had to hide something from him. He had to hide an addiction, to be exact.
When Light was 13 years old, he had went on a website made for people struggling with depression. While Light had not believed himself to be depressed at the time, he did find most of the posts relatable. Light needed something to fill the void in his heart. Then he stumbled upon a post about struggling with self-harm addiction. Well, if this could make other people feel alive, surely it could work on him? He was aware of the consequences, but he was ready to do just about anything to feel something.
So, Light has been struggling with an addiction for a couple of years. He had been cutting with a box cutter he found in the corner of his fathers office. But eventually, he had bought his own blade. It was tiny and thin, very easy to hide. He had kept it in a hole he made in his mattress.
But Light didn't have his blade. Actually, he didn't have anything to cut with. He couldn't cut at all. Not while he was handcuffed to L of all people. Not being able to indulge in his addiction had put him in a foul mood. He failed to hide it so badly even Matsuda of all people noticed. Ugh. While the task force didn't notice how he frantically scratched at his thighs under the desk or how he was getting frequently getting nauseous, L did. It was hard to hide anything from his seemingly all-seeing eyes. Especially since he was forced to be next to him at all times.
However, Light had made a plan to find some time to cut himself. He kept track of L's sleeping schedule, noting that L could usually go 3 days without sleeping. How the man did it, Light didn't know. Well, tonight was the night. The night where he finally got what he wanted. He was practically shaking with anticipation. He felt as if he was going to burst if he didn't cut within the next 2 hours.
L had asked why Light hadn't gone to sleep yet, as it is 2 AM. Light replied by snapping at L, claiming that his non-stop typing was keeping him up and was enough to make him suicidal. Well. He didn't need to say all that. That must have raised his Kira percentage. Whatever, Light could care less about L's feelings right now or his paranoia about him being Kira.
Soon, L started showing signs of being tired. Yes! Surely him being tired would lower his deductive abilities, right?
"L, I have to use the restroom. Could I go, please?", Light had asked as politely as he could, completely different from his attitude earlier.
L stared at him for a moment before nodding and muttering a simple, "Sure."
That was different. L's replies were usually quick. Not only that, he didn't say anything annoying or petty. Hm. Well, Light had bigger fish to fry. Like how to quickly deconstruct his shaving razor.
Light and L made their way to the bathroom. Light slid the chain connection them under the door to keep L out. This was the only privacy he has gotten. The second he closed the door, he quickly locked it.
Light made his way to the cabinet above their sink. He opened it as quietly as he could, cringing every time it creaked. Once it was completely open, he saw what he had been looking forward to. His shaving razor. He managed to deconstruct it as quickly as possible without making any noise. Looking down at the three thin blades on the edge of their sink, he felt a surge of excitement.
he quickly sat down on the closed toilet and pulled his pants down to his knees. He saw his array of scars from his previous session. He didn't cut on his wrists, of course not. He thought that people who cut on their wrists were begging to be caught. He had decided to cut on his thighs, making sure to never cut past what his swimming trunks covered. To avoid suspicion and questions, he had to continue swimming and other physical activities. Sometimes he cut on his waist, making sure to never go deep enough to scar.
Light grabbed one of the thin blades off the edge of the sink. And he felt... Suddenly exhausted. Like he didn't want to do anything. Like he couldn't do anything. He felt the overwhelming urge to just go back to bed and cry a bit until he fell asleep.
This isn't the first time something like this had happened. Back when he had freedom to cut whenever he wanted, he sometimes he decided to just go to sleep. He would feel exhausted for no reason and just slept off the urge to cut. But now he couldn't do that, he had to cut now or else he may not be able to for weeks if not months. The thought made Light uncomfortable. He decided to push through his sleepiness.
He pressed the blade against one of the few spots on his thigh that didn't have scars. He took a deep breath in and swiped. Hard. First the cut was white, then it started to fill with blood.
Ah. This is what people online called, "styro."
Light watched as the cut filled up with blood until it slowly started dripping off the side of his thigh. He felt calm. Calmer than he had in days. So he did it again. And again. And again. And again...
He lost count of how many time he cut, he felt like he was floating. He wasn't even aware of how many times he slid the blade across his thigh, sometimes cutting over scars.
Suddenly he felt real. But with feeling real, so did his emotions. Instead of his thoughts being clouded by his need to cut himself, he was thinking clearly. Too clearly. Too paranoid. Paranoid about how long he had been in there, how much blood is on the floor, if he made any noise without thinking. Fuck. He should've kept the cabinet open so he could put the razor back without making noise. Speaking of razors, how was he going to put this back together quick enough for it to go unnoticed? He should've kept some toilet paper next to him so he could clean up quickly.
So much was wrong, and he felt so tired.
Light was panicking. He grabbed some toilet paper and pressed it against his thigh to stop the bleeding. It felt like poking on a bruise. The bleeding didn't stop. Not at all.
Wondering why, he looked down at his thigh and... Oh. He accidentally cut too deep. He could see his body fat. He must've cut to what people online call, "beans". He cut so deep he could feel his body fat...
For a moment Light felt proud. Proud that he had the guts to go deeper. But once the euphoria vanished, it only caused more panic. Multiple of his cuts were deep enough to see his fat. Oh no. How was he going to clean this? Hiding the cuts would be a challenge, and he knew that he needed to care for them properly if he didn't want an infection. Not only that, the blood was going to get on his pants.
Light quickly kicked off his pants. Could L see them from under the door? He's been in here for around 6 minutes... He usually only takes 2 minutes to use the bathroom. L had probably noticed. Oh no.
Light felt his heart pounding in his chest. It was so loud that he thought that L could hear it. Light knew that he wasn't going to be able to hide it if he kept up like this.
"L...?"
L heard Light call for him very quietly. He knew that Light wasn't using the bathroom, but he wasn't quite sure what he could possibly be doing in there.
"yes, Light-kun?", L responded.
...
Silence.
Then, suddenly in a very sad voice he heard Light say something.
"I-I need help..." Light had said.
At least, that's what L heard; he wasn't actually sure if he could hear him right.
"What is it?"
L didn't get a reply, but he heard the faint sound of the bathroom door unlocking.
L took that as his signal to open the door.
He gently opened the door, and...
Oh.
Oh, goodness. While L had noticed that something wasn't right with Light, he didn't expect.. This.
L looked down at Light who was sitting on the toilet seat with nothing but his boxers and shirt on. His back was hunched over slightly, as if trying to hide himself from L. His face was covered by his long bangs.
He suddenly looked so, so small.
But... That wasn't right. Kira wasn't small. He was big, intimidating, and most importantly, L's greatest challenge.
L had to remind himself that he wasn't looking at Kira, he was looking at Light. Light who cut himself. Light who was struggling. Light who didn't remember that he was Kira.
L certainly hadn't expected his night to go like this. But, he supposed it can't be helped.
L crouched down next to Light, who seemed to be sniffling and occasionally whimpering. Most likely to hold back tears, L thought.
He inspected Light's thigh, which already seemed to have more than a few scars. Hm.
L looked around the area around him. Light had clearly been trying to fix it himself, but hadn't been able to. While L wasn't the best at comforting people, he knew that comforting Light would be the appropriate thing to do in this situation.
"Light-kun... I'm going to help you clean this up, okay?" L tried to sound calm and soft, but he couldn't seem to get rid of the monotone in his voice.
Thankfully Light accepted his help, nodding as if to tell him that he could. Well, that was a good start.
L found some paper towel after rummaging through the cabinet under their shared sink. Grabbing one and folding it in half, he turned on the sink to wet it. After deeming it wet enough, he wrung it out. Carefully, he placed it against Light's still bleeding thigh.
Light seemed to be crying freely now. L felt tears fall against his hand as he gently applied pressure to the wounds.
After a good 5 minutes, L removed the paper towel. It was soaked in Lights blood, but L didn't mind. He's seen grosser things in his lifetime. He folded it one more time before throwing it in the trash between their sink and toilet. L hadn't noticed before, but Light had wrapped his arms around himself, his hands rubbing his shoulders. Ah. That means he must be in need of a hug, right...? L could hug him all he wants after he's done cleaning his cuts.
L applied some cream and bandages to Lights thigh, making sure that they were tight enough to stay on for the night.
Light felt so humiliated. And ashamed of himself, of course. This was so humiliating... Light was perfect. He was the perfect son, perfect student, perfect brother, perfect detective... And now he wasn't. L was going to think less of him. L was going to tell his father. The task force would look at him with pity instead of respect. Instead of this causing him to at least attempt to put his facade back up, it only made him cry pathetically. His face felt all wet and gross... Ew.
Light watched as L cleaned up his mess. How embarrassing, he couldn't even pick up after himself. Like a child. He felt like a little kid, crying for a grown-up to help him because he wasn't capable of doing it himself.
However, L didn't seem to mind cleaning up after him. While it should've made Light feel better, it only made his heart ache even more. His emotions certainly felt real now.
Light sat there watching L work on cleaning up after him, feeling sleepy and dazed. Before he knew it, L was asking him to get up and to go to bed with him. His pants were still on the floor but he couldn't care less. He was just so tired and his head was pounding. Light let L pull him towards their shared bed by his wrist.
Finally, Light got to lay down in their soft bed. Has it always felt this good to lay down? Well, it felt like heaven right now.
L handed him a bottle of water, probably because crying had dehydrated him. How thoughtful of him.
Light pulled the covers atop of him, wanting to do nothing other than just sleep.
He closed his eyes and felt someones arms draped across his chest, pulling him closer. Oh, right. It was L, who else would it be?
Light couldn't deny that hugging L after what had just happened felt good. L's hold on him was comfortable and warm.
Light very quickly began drifting off the sleep, turning his body to cuddle closer to L. He'd be embarrassed about that when he woke up.
The last thing Light heard before succumbing to his exhaustion was L confirming that he wouldn't tell anyone and that he had grown fond of him a while ago, despite what he had expected.
Light fell asleep peacefully after hearing that.