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Like any living creature, he didn’t want to die.
The bells had become an issue when he had last seen Light. At first, he thought that it was a hallucination, some sort of delusion maybe, or part of his ever-widening sinkhole into his own breed of insanity. He hadn’t slept outside of a micro sleep in the past three days. Everything felt tired and hot and dry. His skin was stretched over him, sugar like sand in his mouth.
It was coming. These moments would sneak up on him, ambush him with ideas of his mortality, the bells ringing of his childhood, and the coldness of the world. A part of him was irrationally angry at Light – everything he had and it was squandered, lay in ruins as he did something so phenomenally foolish.
Another part of him, dark and shoved back, whispered he should just kill Light first.
And now his mind was slipping and filled with bells; he made himself not claw at his skin. There was a living Shinigami – and wasn’t that just the oxymoron – a room away and Light with his dead eyes was upstairs plotting his murder. Nowhere left to run. Before he had thought of hiding but he felt, deep in his gut like the knife was already in him, that Light planned to use that thing to kill him. Something stopped it from murdering everyone now, but whatever price came with death would be accepted soon.
This would go away in a few minutes; he’d stitch himself and his sanity back together and find a reason to exist away from Light and that thing that paced when someone wasn’t with it. It wanted something, that he was sure of. What that was, his mind was furiously working over and it felt like it was right there, that if he reached out his hand it would become solid but that was nonsense.
“Ryuzaki?”
Startled he looked up, seeing Matsuda at the doorway studying him. Stupid Matsuda and his impulsiveness, recklessness, decidedly unasked for bravery. Stupid Matsuda who couldn’t wait five minutes to find him when he wasn’t falling apart and could hold steady like a ship with a leak and its crew unwilling to admit it was past saving. Stupid Matsuda who was accidentally blunt and he stared back, mouth unable to open, knees drawn to his chest as he drove his toes into the wooden seat edge he'd half forgotten he was sitting on.
L tried to bring up words sharp enough to chase away even the purest of intention but they failed and all he had were the bells and the internal insistence he was to die clinging to his rational thought like a starving leech.
“Are you alright?”
Stupid Matsuda was coming closer because he was concerned. Of course, he was. Matsuda could have concern for a dying black widow that had just bitten him and he had accidentally crushed in a flailing panic three seconds earlier. Just a few more minutes, and he would have been fine –
Until this happened again, but then, Matsuda wouldn’t be there to witness it. The roof is the better option. No one goes up there. No one thinks you like the world, not understanding you love the world, it’s the people you hate.
The idea of Light finding him like this, unhappy over his own mortality, chilled him.
There was a time he would have been less opposed to Light finding him breaking, distasteful as that was. But that time was past and Light would revel in this now, would silently gloat as he gave brittle words that offered nothing but lies.
No, there were worse fates and Matsuda would be kind to him. He was someone who never meant to be mean even if he could be cruel simply by speaking the truth and L stood.
His muddled mind offered a hundred reasons to not do this but he was tired. He had been tired for years trying to find that elusive thing called joy but never reaching it. Sometimes, sometimes when he solved something or tasted something he felt a rush. A sensation that assured him was still alive and not a husk that was used for its brain alone. That he was actually human.
Matsuda was saying words that he wasn’t hearing as L drew nearer, that worry growing more pronounced. L thought he was stating he would go and get someone and that wouldn’t do.
Just five minutes later and this would have passed as he wrapped his arms around the man. Matsuda instantly shut up.
Matsuda was warm and smelled faintly of some cologne that was probably drugstore stocked but L recognized it as having always been part of his smell. Matsuda was kind, wouldn’t push him away in disgust and he needed kind right now as L felt arms around him, hands on his back. He was trembling. He didn’t do that and he pressed his face into Matsuda’s shoulder, disliking how rough the fabric of his suit was. It meant it was cheap not because Matsuda was cheap but that he either did not have money or he didn’t care and L would guess the former.
A part of him wished he had done more for them, at least bought Matsuda some proper clothes made of fabric that wasn’t so coarse it was a danger to the top layer of skin.
“What’s wrong?” There was a pleading note in Matsuda’s voice, his head turning and L felt his ear being brushed by Matsuda’s cheek and its stubble. “I’ve never seen you upset.”
I’m going to die.
These were words he can’t say. He wasn’t supposed to be concerned with his own mortality. His job and this had been taught to him at a very young age, was to continue until his heart failed for whatever reason, whether it be old age or massive blood loss. Desires, to be touched, to be cherished, to be happy were not a part of his existence. His life offered him what was needed and no more was sought.
A hand was in his hair stroking it gently and he realized he was clutching Matsuda like a frightened child. Five minutes later and he would have had himself back under control and marched on till his inglorious end. And Light would be there then, he knew that. Right now, if Light wasn’t here, he knew he wouldn’t die yet, couldn’t die yet. After all of this, the way Light looked at him sometimes since Higuchi died, pounded in that Light wanted to watch him perish.
All of this was lost the minute Light touched that accursed book, that hideously simple and seductive thing that shouldn’t exist that promised to extinguish anyone as long as you had a face and a name. Maybe only a face if one made a deal and L thought that the requirements and consequences of that weren’t pretty.
Light could kill stupid Matsuda at any time and L pressed his face into that shoulder more, inhaling him, trying to burn him into his memory as though he would be alive much longer than the next day.
“Everything’s alright.”
L wanted to scream that it wasn’t as he forced himself to calm, to draw back some. Matsuda stared at him with something far past concern, their faces close. An errant hand was on L’s neck, palm flat, warm and dry. He was human. No matter what had been done to convince him otherwise, he was human. A man who was staring at the impossible because he would never know all the steps and had lost.
Tell him something, make him think it’s just fatigue or you’re just stressed. Come up with a lie and send him on his way. You lie all the time, so lie to him and yourself one last time. Everything is fine, everything will be fine. Stop looking at his mouth, stop thinking about what you want, there is no place for that here.
The roof. You were planning to go to the roof to look at the sky one last time. Just because he’s young and goes out doesn’t mean he’ll share your desires. Human instinct and need only stretch so far.
Stupid Masuda with his hair almost in his eyes looking like a kicked puppy with his warm hands that slid along his shirt, restless, and L wanted to tell him they belonged.
L kissed him. He had no idea what he was doing and he panicked as Matsuda froze against him before returning it. Those hands came back, one of them burying itself in L’s hair as the other pulled on his hips to bring them closer. L knew he was fumbling, was messy. He was back to clutching at Matsuda’s shirt, not knowing what else to do as his mouth opened more. All he could do was follow what Matsuda did, mimic him, and it felt like things were under control, felt Matsuda’s tongue in his mouth and he answered with his own.
It was good, a low noise and he was surprised it came from him as Matsuda finally drew back. At first, L thought at least one of them was coming to their senses but Matsuda looked at the open door, the light spilling in. They were just off the main part and there was a Shinigami somewhere out there restless and hungry.
Another look back at him and L was sure Matsuda was having an internal debate with himself. L wanted to tell him it was okay, that they could stop and not talk about this. The bells were in his head and his throat was dry, words piled up and stuck.
“Not here,” Matsuda finally decided, letting his hands fall. “If you want…”
The words trailed off but L got the gist, all the same, nodding before he could stop himself. He followed Matsuda out and they slipped down the hall, that Shinigami nowhere in sight. He was relieved because he didn’t want it to run tattling to Light.
As the elevator doors opened and they got on, he thought of Light upstairs pacing like a lion salivating over its next meal, and hit the button for Matsuda’s floor. Not that it should be a surprise. Light and he still shared a suite, Light insisting on it, making up some reason that he had grown too used to him over the proceeding months, that he just didn’t sleep well alone.
It was as hollow as his words about Misa’s devotion inspiring his want to have a relationship with her.
The doors closed with a slight rattle and he let out a breath he didn’t even know he’d been holding. No Light interjecting himself into their situation or sizing up what kind of threat Matsuda was. No co-workers of Matsuda jeering at him, making fun of him. Watari was probably watching, but L found he just didn’t care. The man wouldn’t stop him and the idea that he would deeply disapprove gave him a thrill.
A hand was in his and Matsuda offered him a sheepish smile, like they were children off to do some naughty thing. L wanted to laugh at how ridiculous this was, but he couldn’t because it was comforting as the elevator ticked up the floors.
When the doors opened they went together, hands still clasped, L looking at the hallway and half thinking he would see a shadow move, that Light already knew. But they were alone and then they were inside Matsuda’s rooms that smelled like him with clutter and a scattering of dirty dishes that showed he actually lived there at times.
As the door clicked shut and Matsuda locked it with the deadbolt his face flushed, a furious shade of red. “I’ve had a crush on you.”
“On me?” L was floored. He felt certain this was just a primal instinct, just the want to rut going on here for Matsuda but the endearing way the man looked at him, shuffled as if suddenly lost after that passionate display downstairs, told him otherwise. Perhaps it was just more real right now. “Why?”
“You’re brilliant,” Matsuda said, eyes barely meeting his and it was obvious he was nervous, it leaked off him and L wanted to drag him back over. “You’re attractive –“
L scoffed at that obvious lie outside of maybe in a dark room but Matsuda shook his head.
“At least to me. Yes, you need to sleep more and eat more but that doesn’t change that.” Emboldened, Matsuda came closer putting an arm around him. “You’re you. You do things differently and it doesn’t matter what people say. I wish I was that brave.”
“You’re brave,” L said before he could stop himself and Matsuda was kissing him again.
L found himself gently pushed against a wall, Matsuda working his way down his jaw and then his neck and this was close to overwhelming for him as it was as that wet mouth sucked just above his collar bone. L let out a soft whine, hips doing things he couldn’t help under those roaming hands.
You need to tell him. Well, what you need to do is stop this because it’s cruel. Sure, he’ll regret not doing this when you’re dead, but right now, you’re doing this knowing you won’t be here in a day or two. Think of him, what is he going to do?
Everything was so real with that little confession, the one where Matsuda had been secretly wanting this. And now, in this partial darkness, he had the deceptive feeling of safety.
His mind scrambled for Matsuda’s first name as, apparently, only Light got to use his and there was a flare of rage in him over that.
“Touta,” L whispered, getting a low moan, confirming the man didn’t get to hear his own damn name enough. “Touta, I’ve never done this before.”
L bit his thumb as Matsuda looked at him. “Just, the – uh – final part or –“
“None of it.” L swallowed, feeling on display. “I’m flattered though if you think I’ve actually kissed someone.”
“You’ve been so alone.” It was soft, almost as if it was an unintentional thought that found a voice and L let his eyes drift down as his cheek was stroked. “We don’t have to if you – if you want to stop.”
“I want to. Just, be prepared that I have no idea what I’m doing.”
The words flowed out of him, he was surprised he didn’t try for some bluff or a wall instead of the absolute truth which felt so rare these days. Kira kept him tangled in lies, hiding and baiting but here, was just Matsuda’s earnestness.
“So, I get to actually teach you something.”
L didn’t get a chance to respond to that little gloat because he was being kissed again, with less of an edge to it and he knew Matsuda was watching how he pushed.
Stupid Matsuda – always rash and impulsive and blunt and kind.
They eventually made it to the bedroom and his clothes were off and he felt skin against skin. Matsuda was hot, feverishly so and L wondered if he felt the same as he was touched everywhere, curious fingers and mouth and it was so much. He always had problems with touch, it was always a sensory overload but something about Matsuda kept him grounded as he laid very naked under this man.
“Are you sure?” was the question when he finally asked for what he wanted and managed to nod, his own hands feathering down Matsuda’s stomach, marveling at his muscles, at how warm and soft he was. How exposed he was and unashamed.
It was different, invasive, but there was a longing in him that he couldn’t drive back anymore as the bells slowly got louder and the rain was lashed against the storm glass of the windows by the wind.
All of this – he knew how it worked, mechanically. He understood the logistics of it, what one was supposed to do. When he had been younger, he had wondered and imagined what it would feel like but it was never like this. He had explored his own body back then, gained at least an idea of what he wanted, but this, this wasn’t what he had thought at all as he listened to Matsuda’s fingers moving in him, their heat, their breathing in the semi-darkness. Matsuda had whispered he had wanted but had never been with another man. L felt it was the stigma, shame, failure from family or co-workers, or just the whole world in general.
It didn’t matter, they were here now, a strange comfort that they both were learning together as he watched Matsuda between his legs, mouth kissing his inner thigh. The rustle of the sheets, his own soft cries, the way those eyes watched him as he slowly became undone under clever fingers and tongue.
He had always assumed he would never trust anyone enough to have this.
He felt a growing impatience begin to rush in his veins. Which was mind-blowing to him as when he was younger, just clothes that were tighter had been too much. He tugged a little on Matsuda’s hair, as that was what he was able to reach, trying to direct him to come up, and got a breathy laugh but compliance. Matsuda’s body was hot against the palms of his hands, the taste of his skin and sweat and something sweetly Matsuda that filled his senses as he sought to press and feel it all. But then Matsuda rolled them so that L was on top, straddling Matsuda’s hips and he understood it was for him.
It occurred to him that Matsuda hadn’t called him by any name and he bent down, mindful that he could feel Matsuda’s frantic heart under his right hand, his skin slick with sweat.
“L,” he said, voice soft. “It really is L.”
A hand gently rubbed circles into his lower back and L knew there were questions, starting with why he had such a terrible name and the only answer was that he wasn’t a person.
He was naked with this man in bed, this man who was looking at him with adoration as if he was something to be held precious. He could hear the bells and the rain, their breathing, and his own heart in his ears as he bent down, wondering why he wasn’t lying. He had lied for his entire life and he should still now just to ensure that Light didn’t get an easy kill as he placed his mouth right by Matsuda’s ear.
“L Lawliet.”
Matsuda kissed him and it felt like a promise before he sat back, and let himself be helped along with this part, Matsuda’s hands gentle and reassuring. It hurt a little, he knew it would, but that was temporary, flowing away as pleasure overtook him.
The way it felt, the way Matsuda looked at him, at this moment, he felt close to someone for the first time in his existence and it was beyond what he had ever imagined. Hands on him as he moved, helping him find a pace, touching him, Matsuda having drawn his knees up behind him.
L could feel the coil, the anticipation. He’d done this, in some way, on his own before. It had been a long time, he found he simply had no desire most of the time, but it had never felt this intense. It was hot, spreading in his gut, the base of his spine, everything heavy and tight and aching. He made uncouth noises, head thrown back, Matsuda’s soft voice as it happened. It felt like he stopped breathing, the roar of his heart in his ears as it overtook him, his vision whiting and then he felt filled, distantly aware of Matsuda’s low moan.
He found himself half collapsed on top of the man, dripping sweat, a hand stroking his hair. He was trembling slightly.
“First time?”
L had to smile at the disbelief in that voice as he pushed himself up a bit, Matsuda looking doubtful.
“I’m a fast learner and you’re a good teacher,” he managed to get out, his voice raspy after all of that and he was pulled up into a kiss, the air thick with the smell of them.
As light as he was, he was aware he still weighed over a hundred pounds and he made himself slide off to the side. Matsuda was still watching him and L felt guilty. It was the amount of adoration on display here and he ducked his head down, embarrassed.
“I’ll be right back, let me go get something to clean us up,” Matsuda said to him and L nodded, getting himself settled on his side.
It was clear Matsuda wanted him to stay and he could, for a while at least. Eventually, he would need to get back up and be findable outside of this room because Light would get antsy if he went looking and didn’t see him.
The longer you stay the worse it will be for him. He’s not actually stupid and he’ll work it out, in the end, that you knew.
Light was finalizing a way to kill him and he made himself not think as Matsuda came back a few minutes later, warm cloth in hand and his stomach was cleaned, then his legs. Tossing it away, Matsuda turned off the far light and settled down behind him in bed, arm wrapped around L’s waist as their legs tangled together.
It was quiet, Matsuda’s soft breathing, the rain when the wind blew it into the windows, and the bells tolling.
L thought he would have been able to rest like this under normal circumstances but there was nothing normal in his life anymore. His brain cycled ceaselessly through all the known options and he couldn’t figure out what to give the Shinigami that was in his power to give to stop it from killing him. All his dissection, to spin the pieces into fine silk of a solution only provided him with offering Kira the world on a platter in exchange for his life.
Even if it was in his power to give that, he wouldn’t.
And his death had to come at a price, he was sure of it. It loathed him. If it could have killed him on sight it would have. No, this was a sacrifice that Light was in the process of lining up. He could smell it, the way the man circled, never leaving them alone for long, never going out. If he was out, Light wanted to be there. It was only when Soichiro got after Light about resting and Light had run out of excuses that he went to his room. And that reprieve would only last so long.
Light was anxious – both of his plans and to not let that thing out of his sight. L wondered if it was an addiction.
Matsuda shifted, nuzzling his hair, and he got the impression the man was starting to doze off. L stared out into the darkness.
People are essentially equations. Once you figure out the variables, the solution is easy to achieve over and over. Light, for all his genius, is as predictable as a bus schedule. Sure, there may be late arrivals or slight detours, but nothing significant. Set him up so he can believe himself brilliant and he’ll follow it right in. He’s afraid of predictable things – the world knowing his name because he is not immortal. His father finding out because he wants that approval no matter how much he lies to himself. He’s afraid of failure and will never admit it, he kills those who oppose him because they’ll expose his faults.
And then there’s Matsuda. He is as linear as a figure eight. In all my planning, in all my reflection, I never thought this would be a possible outcome but it feels like it was the only one once he appeared in the doorway. As though it was a natural procession of events to be seen in ways no one else has ever seen me. He pulls it out of me, the frustration, the anger, the unwilling truths when I want to lie. I should have lied. I should have told him anything when he came. I should have gone out to the roof even if it was raining and waited for Light to come to find me to bring me to my death. Because I fear that is where we are at yet this man, this man has managed to do this instead.
This man who I felt only admired me in some vague, nebulous way, the same as teens look up to an idol, confessed he had feelings. Not only that, but made me do foolish things. And he holds me like a lover probably dreaming of the next time.
What have I done to him? I’m going to die. I can’t outrun a god of death. I don’t want him to be there when it happens. He always would have grieved for me, always, but now, after this, I’ve already torn his heart out, he just doesn’t know it yet. And for what – selfish desires. I wanted to feel this with him and he’s the one who will be stuck suffering –
“L?”
It was whispered and L blinked, realizing he had curled himself into a ball full of tension. No matter how much he willed it, he couldn’t get his muscles to relax. He had never hated himself so much as he did at this moment, Matsuda pushing himself up more.
“Do – do you regret this?”
“No.” L swallowed, keeping his eyes on where the wall would be that was mostly hidden in shadows. “Not like what you’re thinking.”
He was being turned, forced to roll onto his back and he fought but it wasn’t very valiant. He could get away from Matsuda, a distant part of his brain was confirming this but he didn’t want to hurt him, he didn’t want to be alone right now.
So, you drag someone else into your misery.
He was young, they were close to the same age, and L cupped Matsuda’s face, trying to think of a way out.
“Tomorrow, or later this morning since I don’t know what time it is right now, I’m going to give you a fool’s errand. I need you to just go, do as I ask.” He couldn’t hide the pleading in his voice, self-loathing slithering in his veins.
“What’s going on?”
There was real care there, worry that he didn’t deserve and L felt like he was drowning. People didn’t show concern for him – not those who actually knew him. As a distant voice, a creature that lurked and gave the answers, people respected him, perhaps worried for his safety, but not this. Matsuda was real, he was breathing, and he fretted.
Lie. Tell him a lie. Tell him anything so you don’t do what you’re thinking of doing.
Minutes, it felt more realistic than hours for what had left, the final grains flowing through his lifespan.
I should be working, I shouldn’t be here, I shouldn’t need this. I should go back to work.
“Matsuda, you idiot,” he whispered and couldn’t hold it back, “I’m going to die.”
Matsuda reared some, rocking back on his knees, staring at him. L fully expected anger, an expectation that he was being used for one last quick pleasure. Those things never came and Matsuda moved again, rolling them so they were face to face on their sides, foreheads together, fingers gripping him so hard that L barely managed not to wince.
“Tell me what’s going on.”
“Promise you’ll go when I tell you, first.”
He didn’t need to see Matsuda’s face to know he was frustrated and helpless, hand moving on him and dragging them closer together as if it would save them.
I wish I had done this sooner with you. At least the first part.
“I promise.” It was muttered, half in anger but it was there and L relaxed a fraction. “Now, tell me why you think you’re going to die.”
“I think the killings will start soon and my attention will be back focused on Light and Misa. That Shinigami will kill me because I will want to catch them.”
It was really as simple as that. Even if he didn’t voice his want to execute them or arrest them, it would be there. That thing would know because he’d relentlessly perused those two before. And he would bet that Light had a plan to set up Misa once she was out. That whole little line about her devotion was sour on his tongue, even more so next to Matsuda and seeing actual devotion, not obsession wrapped up in prettier paper.
I shouldn’t have let her go. Damn all of this – they would have thrown a fit if I kept her but he talked to her. I know he did. They were making plans right out on my front stairs like a mocking blow. And that thing watched, it knows what’s coming.
“But that rule – the thirteen-day rule.”
“We don’t know if those rules are real, for one,” L said, keeping his voice gentle. “Light may have very well added those to ensure his innocence. And two, you saw the personality change after three days in Amane. Light went through something similar seven days in. Last I checked, neither of those are the same as thirteen, so it’s quite possible they found a loophole and passed on their power along with their memories, meaning that the rule didn’t apply even if it is real.
“Making up a rule that we can’t destroy the book or we all die just seems more logical than it being real. I doubt Light felt I would be able to tell the difference between his two selves, to such a severe extent, if I’m honest.”
That I can see it in his eyes that he’s Kira. How can no one else see that we have stopped being human when he looks at us, instead musing about when our expiration dates should be in his little world?
Matsuda was quiet and L was ready for a tirade about trust or letting things go, or just any number of arguments. He prepared himself to be thrown out of bed and forced to dress out by the door and have their last few hours marred by anger and shame. In his mind, he couldn’t see any other outcome. Matsuda believed in those two and had been around them a lot. Light without his memories, as that really seemed to be the only way to explain any of this, was deceiving, was enticing. Even he at times wanted to believe he was wrong, that he had to be wrong.
They became his friends. To guarantee loyalty. One more layer between themselves and the ugly truth makes it uncomfortable to question. You’d need exceptional proof to turn against them and it simply doesn’t exist and may never outside of a confession.
L felt a dizzying nausea of how truly cruel Light Yagami could be.
“I want you to explain to me like I am actually an idiot why you think Light’s guilty.”
It was a demand, very sharp, and very blunt and L blinked, noticing that Matsuda still had a death grip on him.
He shouldn’t, he never told his theories to people until something was solved absolutely, not like this. The still sane portion of him insisted it would only put this man in more danger. That he’ll come back, find him dead and Matsuda would just shoot Light. And he couldn’t let him be a murderer.
It will help, lay it out to for me, he lied to himself.
The words spilled out of him, starting all the way back at the beginning with when he thought Light got the book, that he thought Kurou Otoharda was the first. After he had learned that Kira could kill beyond heart attacks he had gone back to shift through deaths during that time period when Light slept and had found Takuo Shibuimaru who had died in an accident while chasing a woman down. It would have been right on Light’s way home from his prep school and at the correct time, just one day after Otoharda. Of his theory Light couldn’t live with himself and began to twist himself into Kira even if both killings could be claimed to be justifiable.
On and on he went, from Light using his father’s position to gain information until he had the task force moved to Light stalking and most likely using the strange bus hijacking to find out Agent Penber’s name or at least who he was, that the driver later told police about a man and two teens, one answering to Light’s description left right after the hostage taker died. The driver said the hijacker had been distressed by one of them, the young man, before panicking, emptying his weapon at nothing, and running off the bus only to be hit by a car. The criminals who died strange deaths right before the bus incident in the area, making him think Light was practicing.
He went on about the surveillance, about why Light killed a purse snatcher because of it and how he used a bag of chips and what he thought was a small TV hidden inside, because it was the only way Light could have done it and explained why a minor criminal had died along with someone not yet guilty. It was the only way for Kira to kill while being watched. The perfect answers, the fact that it was thought Naomi had come to the NPA headquarters at the same time he thought Light had been there but she hadn’t given her name. The desk officers just thought she matched the picture Watari gave them later and went missing shortly thereafter, one of the desk officers nervously stating that Light had been talking about the Kira case. Unfortunately, the footage had already been taped over by the time he had thought to ask. Light had made sure her death wouldn’t be found for some time, her body still missing.
Then later how Misa, who was physically linked to the second Kira, had suddenly showed up at his door while he was under intense scrutiny for being Kira after Light had gone to Aoyama. Since Misa had most likely made whatever trade Higuchi had at the end, there was something about Light that told Misa who he was. Why else would Light take a strange woman up to his room? One who had no reason to zero in on him to stalk. About how, after Misa had shown up on campus, Light had immediately called her with a phone that wasn’t his before she was even out of sight. That it had to have been to get L's real name because she automatically knew them but L had stolen her phone first and had her arrested.
About how he never believed the lies Light told in order to be confined but became confused a week in when Light totally shifted in his thinking and became a different person. That the experiment and mock execution with Soichiro was meaningless now because even after the trade, Higuchi had needed to write down the names in the book, proven by the death of the patrol officer during the high-speed chase, so neither of them could have acted as Kira.
He talked about the transfer of power, that it included the Shinigami who was most likely working for Light by choice or distress to ensure Higuchi did what was needed along with his own goals. When it happened, it stripped away the memories and reverted the user but L felt it had to happen willingly, and Higuchi was never given the chance. It would have been too risky to leave him alive to do so – revealing all of Light’s lies.
Finally, about how Light had screamed when he touched that book, the strange look in his eyes that never went away now and that Higuchi had dropped dead a minute later. That Light was circling, stringing Misa along so she’d come to see him and how he never left the building, always near the book and that Shinigami. How he believed that Shinigami was about to be pushed to kill him even if it hurt itself. That Kira would start killing again because L had foolishly brought up another book, giving a cover to Light, and what better way to show his innocence than if L was beside Light when he died.
All of it was conjecture, for the most part. The strongest parts were centered on Amane but Light could still slip through the cracks by pleading she was crazy and had just randomly targeted him, creating him as Kira in her fantasy world. Or worse, she choose him because he was Soichiro’s son to befuddle the investigation more. That Amane was mentally ill played right into Light’s hands, though he didn’t doubt Light walked a tightrope to keep himself from being hurt by her.
There were no angry words or words at all for the next few minutes, Matsuda still holding him close and L pushed his face into the man’s neck, wondering when this was going to end.
“I could never explain Misa,” Matsuda finally said, startling L. “It always bothered me. Why would she show up, at his house, right when we were dealing with those Kira tapes? How she claimed she just fell in love with him at first sight but didn’t even know how she knew his name. That was right after he and I went to Aoyama because of that diary page. And he had her back off of killing you then, too. I would bet he knew it would be obvious, there was too much pointing at him right then, otherwise, if Kira was someone else, I bet he would have demanded you show up to die like the second Kira wanted. It would make the most sense, wouldn’t it?”
“Yes,” L whispered, amazed. “Yes, it would, Touta.”
“I don’t want to believe you. None of us did. The chief, he –“ Matsuda’s voice wavered, and L kissed his neck, understanding this was terrible. “He was bothered by Misa. I think he still is. You put him through hell but he wouldn’t have done it if he hadn’t been unsure still, even though the killings restarted.”
“We just thought it was at will, no way of knowing they had to write a name.”
“You said it yourself – these are different than the first, that those two were the originals.”
“Yes.”
“Can’t you run?” Matsuda asked him and L closed his eyes. “You have a helicopter. Can’t you just go and run and not be here?”
“It’s seen me. It must know my name, what I look like. Neither of us can kill an immortal deity and I doubt it’s as confined as we think it is.”
“Was this –“ Matsuda’s voice actually did break and L screwed his eyes closed, knowing the question coming next. “Was this just nothing?”
“No.” L breathed out, not sure how to explain. “I didn’t plan this but that doesn’t mean it was nothing. I shouldn’t have, it will just hurt you more. But I can’t stand the thought of leaving you here to be lied to for as long as he thinks is useful before he kills you all.”
“Even his father?”
“Yes.”
L held Matsuda as the man broke down and cried and marveled at how he was believed when all this time he was argued against. Self-denial, perhaps it was too personal, L didn’t know, the pieces were always there if they had asked. Maybe in Matsuda’s case, it was that he had no confidence and simply always believed his own conjectures wrong.
And now, Matsuda believed him when it may already be too late and L listened to his sorrow that drowned out the bells for a while, helpless to do more than hold him.
They had gotten up eventually and showered, Matsuda washing L’s hair and managing to not get shampoo in his eyes, L liking how it all felt. It would be sweet with their fumbling if it hadn’t all been laced with heavy despair that ate at his insides.
L wished he was going crazy. Usually, when his brain started being eaten by madness he could chase it away with work.
He had borrowed Matsuda’s electric razor and made himself presentable, wearing the clothes he came in with as most of his clothes all looked the same and it was a frequent occurrence that he lost track of time and wore the same thing for more than a day. No one would ask questions and he doubted Light would be close to both of them enough to notice they smelled faintly like each other.
A strange ache in him that he had a part of Matsuda in him and he hoped there was no autopsy. All it would tell anyone was that he had sex and there was a strange piercing rage that the last one anyone would think of would be Matsuda, even if it kept him safer.
Light would just use it to muddy the waters more, insist I had endangered myself.
“Ssh,” L said, brushing hair off Matsuda’s forehead as they stood outside the bathroom. He had to leave – he’d been here for hours and his presence was probably noted as missing by this point. He didn’t want to make life harder for Matsuda than he already had. “Stay up here and compose yourself. It’s still very early. Wait a few hours to come down or until I or Soichiro call you.”
“You really think –“ Matsuda swallowed the rest but L knew the question already.
“I think it will happen soon. Whatever the plan he has will be put into motion and outside of letting Kira kill at will without resistance, I don’t see a way out.” L took a breath, chewing on his thumbnail as Matsuda seemed to sway but hold steady. “Just go when I ask you to.”
“Couldn’t you be wrong?”
L felt his shoulders slump more, the desire in Matsuda’s voice, that want for this entire case to be a terrible dream that will have evaporated once they were back with the rest not lost on him. He wanted to make it into a joke, but the false illusion of hope was too cruel even for him.
“No, unless it’s about the timing. But we’ve all been aware since the beginning that this is a case that could kill us.”
He got a nod and L didn’t know what else to do but give instructions, hoping Matsuda would stay alive for a while longer.
He seems just as adept as Light for lying to himself to make the uncomfortable parts go away. They do it differently, but he’s been bothered for months and refused to confront it. Though, they all have had questions – Misa being a problem none of them will address, wanting her to be what she appeared as.
This will fade. It will always hurt but right now everything is just enhanced by the chemicals the brain soaks in during sex. Distance, some time, maybe he’ll decide he hates me for doing this later and that will give him the resolve to survive and finish. I hope he doesn’t recede, hide behind denial that Light couldn’t be responsible because it is just too terrible.
I can’t mean that much. We’ve worked together for months and I never knew he had any desire for me.
He had gone back to pushing Matsuda’s hair out of his eyes, swearing the man had it cut to always be an annoyance, and inwardly cursed himself.
“Everyone will expect you to be emotional. Don’t blame yourself, this isn’t your fault.” L took a breath letting his hand fall away. He had to stop touching or there would be no time left to do what he wanted to do. “Don’t try to restrain Light, it may set that thing off. Afterward, just avoid him. I think he’ll go back to To-Oh so you won’t have to deal with him for a while.”
“You make it sound like I can just do this.”
“You’re good at pretending.” L knew his smile was sad and got a watery one in return. “You convinced a board room full of kill-happy executives that you were just a ditzy manager.”
“I shouldn’t have done that, to begin with. Been there, I mean.”
A strange frustration with himself that at the time, he had been annoyed that Matsuda had trashed his carefully laid plans. It hadn’t really sunk to him till later how in danger he had been, and it would take weeks until this point to understand what he could have lost.
“No.” L sighed. “But, it blew everything wide open. Just, be more careful with your life, Touta.”
He got a nod and he turned to leave when Matsuda simply blurted out, “I love you.”
Everything was frozen in him, refusing to move, his heart feeling like it paused, the air trapped in his lungs until L forced the exhale in one long push so he could drag in more oxygen and keep surviving until Light managed to kill him. He could hear Matsuda shuffle before he willed his head to turn, the man flustered, ashamed, so many things he shouldn’t be.
He can’t – it’s just the high from –
“Don’t know why I said that,” Matsuda said, head bowed, hand in his own hair. “Forget it, don’t bother with me –“
He wouldn’t say it if he didn’t – he’s not that kind of person, but he can’t. It makes no sense –
L just caught him by the waist and kissed him, drawing back to stare at him.
He’s not lying, at least not willfully. I can pretend, make it real for him so he doesn’t think he was just a last-minute event. Say words he needs to hear. They aren’t false. I can lie for both of us.
“I’m sorry,” L told him, watching the face break slightly. “For every cruel thing I did. And I was cruel to you, more than I needed to be. I push people away, it’s what I tend to do, but I was mean to you in ways I shouldn’t have been.”
“It’s okay,” was the sheepish response and L wanted to shake him, tell him it wasn’t and he needed to start finding value in himself.
“I -I don’t know if this ever would have worked, or if this was just these past few hours, or…” he trailed off, uncertain what he wanted to say but he dredged up words that fit. “I don’t do well with emotions. I don’t let myself have most of them. But I do love you, in a way, Touta Matsuda. Thank you.”
Matsuda’s thumb brushed his cheek and he knew his mask had slipped. He could taste the salt on it when he kissed it and they let go of each other because he didn’t want to die like this, hidden with a target on Matsuda.
It’s just chemicals and stress. That’s all it is. There isn’t anything else. It’s how the body works.
He could see the thousands of questions that Matsuda had for him still, the ones that had been barely voiced in the past hour. He was curious, L understood that. L knew he was strange, very different, and he had let a few things slide that showed it. But now wasn’t the time or the place to unburden his soul and he’d never have that in his lifetime. It was enough, maybe, that Matsuda would know the truth and keep going on till Near managed to become old enough to find him.
How many people would Light Yagami have killed by that point he didn’t want to know as they went to the door.
“Lock it behind me,” L said, banishing ideas of Light idling out in the hallway with that nasty little smile he liked to get. “I’ll see you in a bit.”
Because he couldn’t say goodbye and then he was alone, Matsuda followed his instructions and he centered himself walking towards the elevator. No one was about, Light didn’t have access to the security feeds up here and wouldn’t no matter how hard he tried. He’d come up with a lie as to where he’d been if asked as he called the elevator, not feeling safe as the doors opened.
His phone rang as soon as he stepped on and he hit the door close button and answered.
“The killings have started,” Watari told him and L could just pick up the faint undertone to his voice that he was cross.
“I’m coming to you.”
Hanging up he hit the button for the sub-level and pulled out a key to unlock it. No one had asked what they kept hidden, just assuming it was holding cells or something like that. The elevator descended, locked in its path now and he hoped no one tried to come to use it in this minute and wonder why it seemed glitched to the lobby.
All precautions with the Kiras here, though he hadn’t needed to take nearly as many until now.
The air was cool as the doors opened and he made his way down the hallway, stopping at what looked like a storage closet, and began the sequence to gain access. Paranoia was steeped in him, ideas of Light lunging and attacking him, that Shinigami lurking and just ripping out his throat with its long thin claws it called fingers.
But none of that happened and it was just him and his madness that was accented by the sound of bells as he went through the doors and found Watari, perturbed, at his bank of monitors deep in the heart of the building.
“How bad is it?” he asked, hoping to avoid talking about anything else.
“Days worth of killings in one night. All the criminals since Higuchi’s death that have been announced on the news.”
This was it then. Amane had just been here and these actions would make him zero in on her and Light all over again. Light ensured that rule was there to make sure the others believed him, smoothed his transition to take his position as the new L, and lead the Kira investigation in blind circles.
All of it, all of it was perfect for Light and he had played right into it. Light had made severe mistakes early on, very foolish ones, impulsive and childish in his anger but this, what he had done, was a masterpiece. If it wasn’t for that Shinigami, he’d have more options, but it was possible there wasn’t a right answer now, that no matter what he did, that thing would kill him and most likely Watari, too.
Light had escalated everything to incite it to do so despite the consequences and L was fairly certain it was death or at least highly unpleasant.
L went to the corner table and opened the laptop he kept here, pulling up a stool to perch on. The idea that he had just been with someone who had held him naked in bed was alien, as though that was the dream as it started up.
“Did you actually do what I think you did?”
“Yes,” L responded, tapping in his password, keeping his voice lazy.
“And with him? Out of all of them? At this point, you could have gone out and paid for something better.”
Don’t engage, he told himself. Just let it wash over you. It’s what he always does so I doubt and don’t think and forget about things I need. I didn’t do anything wrong. Touta and I didn’t do anything wrong. And there’s something I can do for him, one last thing, so he has some hope.
That the words he wanted to say just flowed into him surprised L but he typed them all out feeling a strange ache. Like it was in his bones, carved in and not leaving, and would haunt him for the rest of his minutes left alive. It was what Matsuda left him with, the idea that something could have been for him and he finished what he was writing, keeping an eye on the time. He’d been here nearly forty minutes so far and he expected to be alerted by at least Light or Soichiro about the new wave of killings.
He encrypted it up to what the NPA computers could handle and set it to send itself to Matsuda’s private email a month from today. It would appear for seventy-two hours, delete itself, and appear again one month after for the same time span if not opened, allowing for unforeseen problems, Matsuda maybe going into hiding or being lost for a while. Given what was in it, he couldn’t let it float around for longer and he remotely put it on a secure server they had for such endeavors that he knew would still be running for at least that long.
There wasn’t much he could do with his money that wasn’t already set up, there simply wasn’t time. He wished he could give some of it to the three men upstairs who were about to go through hell and he pushed it all away. If he had thought of it sooner, maybe, but the paperwork was impossible as his phone rang.
“Yagami-san.”
“The killings.” He listened to Soichiro drag in a breath and waited. “They’ve restarted. It’s so many.”
“I know. I’ll be there shortly.”
Hanging up he closed his computer, Watari refusing to face him.
“Just tell them you were with me this whole time,” the old man said. “Best not to out your newly acquired sleeper agent."
L ground his teeth but swallowed his sharp words, simply nodding before he left again, pausing as the first door closed behind him, leaving him in a semi-darkness without cameras or prying eyes, the next checkpoint only two feet away. The bells were louder now, his subconscious mind screaming up at him that it was coming and he was helpless to know how to stop it. A cold, dry prick of dread clinging to his nerves that it was close, that he had less than an hour.
Matsuda.
Guilt crept up his throat, a searing feeling that threatened to kill him in this tiny space where his body couldn’t even fall to the floor properly. Matsuda, who was probably getting a phone call and L felt his gut tighten, the real fear that somehow, Light Yagami would know. Errant ideas of Light having Matsuda killed in front of him and then whatever death came for him tried to stick themselves in his mind and L took a long, shuddering breath. Then another, and another, closing his eyes against the soft glow of backlit keypads that were pressed against the walls on either side.
L's mind focused on a single sharp point, drowning out the bells for a moment.
Matsuda would be upset. That much was for sure. When he was called down, he fully expected to see the man look hollowed out. There would be no surprise that the last hour or a little over would have been spent pacing, racking his brain. He could picture Matsuda cursing himself, hand in his hair, angry and fearful, trying to find an answer and not getting anything before his phone rang in summons.
When Matsuda came down it was the most dangerous. L knew he had to send him away immediately and he felt like he had a feasible plan, one that might even pacify Light and play into his vanity and pettiness. He could not risk showing anything toward the man. Matsuda was more emotional, he was more prone to outbursts or moods. If he was upset for any reason he could brush it off as not sleeping well, pointing out that they had an otherworldly creature in their lobby pacing, endlessly pacing, like it was as anxious as L was for all this to be over.
What does it want? What can I give it – Stop. Focus.
The second most dangerous part was when Matsuda returned. If he had a way to deactivate Matsuda’s cell phone before he left, L would. It would keep the team from calling him when all hell broke loose as Matsuda prattled around doing essentially nothing because it was Misa who had done these killings, not Light. He doubted Light gave her any special instructions outside of killing them all. The more time Matsuda spent on his useless errand the more hope would build and it would crush him more, making him more pliant to Light’s honey lies. But, there was no way to do that and L couldn’t interfere with Matsuda’s phone before he got back downstairs because he had to be reachable in the first place.
All he could hope for would be that Matsuda would be grieved, so deeply grieved that it would wash away the anger and suspicion for at least a while. Allow him to calm down, to remember what L told him about needing evidence, about how, even if they killed Light right now, the Shinigami would still probably kill them and then Misa would be unopposed and severely pissed and murderous. That it didn’t solve these Notes existing in the first place. No, the first few minutes after getting back, seeing his body, as long as Matsuda survived that, it would be alright.
He'll realize his emotions were just enhanced. That they weren’t nearly what he thought they were. Passing care is mistaken for something else, no matter what I said in the email. It will cloud over, in time.
And, it would be expected that Matsuda would be the most emotional. Light may get curious but he doubted he thought Matsuda was worth anything. Even if he thought Matsuda had a connection to him, Light wouldn’t be able to act on it for a while and by then his email with the instructions should be received.
More than just instructions…I hope it is some comfort, that he was not just used. None of what happened was part of a game.
No one would question if Matsuda felt like he had to leave the task force – he was young and felt things deeply. Soichiro would also make sure that the others never gave him a hard time. If that was what Matsuda felt he needed to do to avoid Light as he took over as the new L, it should not be an issue. But Matsuda would be watching and L feared the man would finally learn to hate as he collected evidence and waited for Near to make his move into the public space.
A dark part of him whispered that Matsuda would kill Light eventually. Even with all his kindness, he felt Matsuda was capable of that, always had. Matsuda had anger, a type of rage at the injustices of his life merely pushed back to simmering but never gone. L hated that he was leaving him here to face this alone.
But the other option had been to not tell him, let him be blindly led by Light and all his cruelty and lies dressed up so sweetly that you wanted to believe because any other possibility was too terrible to contemplate. You didn’t want your friend, this beautiful young man full of promise and words that swept off his tongue like dreams, to be evil. A young man that held out his hand and spoke of a better world and justice while he executed whoever stood in the way of his childlike ideals and hid his dirty secrets. His smile was too bright, everyone missed the bloodstains.
No, he couldn’t leave Matsuda to that. Not the man who made L finally feel safe, that didn’t judge him, that could make him believe, even for a few minutes that all of this was far away, no longer a problem and it was just the two of them with long lives.
He deserves better than that – to not be lied to for years before he is cast away. If he decides it’s too much, that he would rather be numb in denial than at least he has that choice. But Light shouldn’t be allowed to trample him, use him, wring him out, and then most likely mock him as he dies in a sea of blood.
L kept his eyes closed and pushed away kind thoughts. Thoughts of how Matsuda knew all his favorite foods and brought them to him when he was cross, how he liked his tea, how he tried to appease, forever please because all he wanted was just love, to be approved of, to be enough for someone.
He didn’t mean what he said but it was kind to say.
And all L did was push and snap, believing that all people were cunning and therefore could never be trusted. That Matsuda could not exist in L’s world, it was an impossibility that he had refused to calculate and in the end, L had lost and had torn that apart, too. He hoped Matsuda didn’t become all sharp edges, he hoped Matsuda could still smile.
One last breath and L packed all those thoughts away, tucked and never to be re-examined. No thoughts of a few hours ago, no longing to live, just focus on the newest victims, on Light, what he would be doing, on that creature that was waiting as much as he was. His mind needed to be blank of everything else and he felt it happen, the bells growing louder, a clamber that was beautiful in harsh tones and grief and he went out to the hall.
Working his way back to the main area where they all worked, Soichiro was standing, watching the news, Light at his accustomed seat at the tabletop, only glancing towards him. The Shinigami was here, and L met its gaze, wanting to ask what it wanted if he could give it.
“Chief, what is it?” Mogi said as he entered, rubbing his face and yawning widely.
“Kira. Light called me because the killings have started. All the criminals that have been on the news since Higuchi’s death.” Soichiro’s tone was flat, exhausted, as L watched the Shinigami. “He wasn’t Kira.”
L swore he saw a flicker on Light’s face, the fading of a faint Cheshire grin that he managed to conceal. A sick note in L’s stomach with the knowledge that Light knew it was coming and was pleased.
Of course, Light would go to his father. It helps deepen that bond so he can exploit it, tell Soichiro that it would make no sense that he was involved. Light came right to him as soon as he saw what was happening, made sure that Soichiro never thought Light was trying to conceal anything, delay the discovery.
“Higuchi was Kira,” L said carefully, watching the Shinigami’s eye stare back at him like a challenge. “Up to his time of death, he was executing criminals and killing the competition.”
“And someone else has stepped in?” Mogi was upset. “But the book – ”
“I believe there is another. There were two Kira’s active before and independent of each other at the start. It would make sense there is a second book, and most likely another Shinigami out there,” L said, pulling his knees closer to his chest, his fingers rolling a sugar cube between them.
Tell me what you want, Shinigami. How can you get what you want if I don’t know? I doubt it’s just me dead. Do you want that book back? If it’s Light, I assure you, he will leave you to rot.
“Does this ever end?” Mogi was asking, voice defeated. “I mean, we do something and all that happens is everything shifts, and jumps to someone else.”
“We must keep going,” Soichiro answered and L wasn’t surprised the man didn’t meet his eyes.
Why don’t you ask me what I think happened with Light? I know you have doubts, Soichiro Yagami. I know you must think of how those killings stopped for two weeks and began again with a different theme while Light was confined. I know you’re thinking about our little play, that it didn’t prove what we thought because neither can kill at will. I can’t imagine how uncomfortable you must be trying not to think of Light as a Kira, even if you tell yourself he was controlled.
L let his eyes drift over to Light as they watched the different broadcasts who was close to feigning concern convincingly.
You threw Amane under the bus, didn’t you? She came here, you had a talk with her, and now all these criminals are dead. You know I’ll focus on that and then brush it aside due to protest over that rule. But that thing will be agitated. You can only divert for so long before I come full circle back to you and I think it knows it.
It was so interested in you talking to her the other day.
His thoughts were interrupted when he saw Matsuda enter, looking worn and pale, eyeing them all. L felt a surge in him. This was the man he had told all of this to, that he had laid naked beside, had been inside of him and his throat was dry, grief clawing at his insides.
“Matsuda-san,” L called, keeping his face carefully blank. “Kira has begun again. I want you to go to the jails where these men were held and see if any clues were left.”
“Clues?” Light asked, looking startled for once.
“Yes. Kira has left little notes through his victims before. This is a show. I want to know if anything like that exists.”
Not that he needed another ‘L did you know’ taunt. This Shinigami had flat-out stated it didn’t like apples.
Maybe there’s one out there that does. I doubt it was a meaningless statement with apples chosen at random. Light has a point to everything he does.
“Of course, Ryuzaki,” Matsuda said, his voice barely audible and he shuffled forward, Mogi giving him a concerned pat on the shoulder.
They’ll just think that he’s tired, that all of this never ends. And by the time he gets back, it should be over. I don’t want it to be but it feels like everything is in shadows and I can’t find the answer fast enough in the dark. No matter what I try to say, the ending is already decided.
Light looked pensive and L wondered if he regretted not leaving notes behind just to drive that dagger in his back deeper before the end came. One final time to gloat and for the first time he felt truly violent in his life, an impulse in him, though short-lived, to just reach over and crush Light Yagami’s throat.
A movement caught his eye and he saw that Matsuda had stopped by the Death Note, picking it up. There wasn’t enough air in the room as the Shinigami became focused on the man.
Matsuda, you idiot, he screamed in his head, watching him open the back cover and read those rules, the ones he thought fake for so many reasons from too easy to less wear on them compared to the front. You need to get out of here. Don’t watch this. I don’t want you to watch me die. I don’t want to see what it does to you.
“Matsuda?” Soichiro asked, wary as they watched him turn, taking them in.
“We could just burn this.”
“We die!” Mogi’s voice was pitched up, terrified, Soichiro grabbed him by the arm before he could storm over there and take it. “That last rule. Everyone that’s touched it will die.”
“Think of how many Kira will kill with it if we just leave it here,” Matsuda said, voice quiet. “We’re known anyways. All of us, except Ryuzaki and Watari but that’s probably only a matter of time. We haven’t hidden our faces here” He paused with a look at the Shinigami and Light took a shuddering breath. L knew he was thinking of all the ways to get Matsuda to let go of that thing. “Misa didn’t touch this, did she?”
Goddamn is he earnest, L thought watching him, seeing him look at the Shinigami with a pleading tone. I almost believe him.
“Matsuda,” Soichiro said. “We need to evaluate what’s going on –“
“But if we have to destroy it, despite the cost, I want to know if Misa touched any part of this.” His attention was on the Shinigami who was watching him now, curious and wary. “Would you tell me if she did? I don’t want to hurt her. I know she doesn’t have anything to do with this.”
“Why would you think she would have touched it?” the creature ask and L swore he heard Light audibly grind his teeth.
Not quite the right question. Why didn’t it ask if it should care, or why it should know?
Light seemed tenser and L absently chewed his thumb, watching.
“I wondered –“ Matsuda cut himself off, looking ashamed but L saw the subtle signs that he was faking but only because he had seen the man truly vulnerable just over an hour before all of this. If he hadn’t, he might actually think this was just naturally Matsuda until a tell he knew came up.
If they survived this, L felt they were going to have to have a conversation about lying and when not to use it no matter their relationship. He doubted Matsuda had suddenly just decided Misa wasn’t a problem in his world anymore.
The Shinigami seemed to be debating if it should say anything at all as Matsuda’s pause stretched on.
Right now, Matsuda could just claim he was upset by everything, lost his head for a minute, and the people here, especially Light, would just think he wasn’t using his brain again. L felt more rage that Light would entirely dismiss him out of hand, and a hate for himself because he would have done the same at one time.
Light shifted, it was a subtle movement and L knew he was about to speak before he was beaten to it.
“Wondered what?” the Shinigami prompted, and L kept his face stoic seeing that it was buying this.
“It’s stupid. I’m quite stupid really, but Misa-Misa, she snuck out to go on a date with Higuchi, and got him to confess.” Matsuda kept his pensive pose, that same pleading look, the honeyed tone that they wanted the same thing. “She went for that interview and I was so worried for her. All those bad people in the room with her. I’d want her to know which one to watch out for, too.”
Misa, it had to have talked to Misa and in order to do that it would have had to touch her with at least a piece so Misa could see it and there had been that long bathroom break –
“Why would you think I care for one human?” the creature answered but it was too late. There had been a flicker, an actual reaction from it and L felt his mouth drop open a little.
Misa. Its trigger was Misa. Threatening Misa would get him killed hence why Light set her up to be in his sights. It was so cold, he put her at risk just to get the two of them out of the way because L felt with this thing alive Light would never be able to kill her himself.
It’s why Light never killed Misa before. The Shinigami was in the way.
“It’s just strange, that’s all, that she found the right person on the first try,” Matsuda said and L could see Light was unnerved.
It told Misa that Higuchi was Kira and Misa, even without her memories, was able to turn him in to make Light Kira again, maybe by this Shinigami killing for her.
Light stuttered a little as L pushed himself up, and went to this thing that watched him, eye blinking, noticing that Matsuda actually had a lighter in his hand as he joined them.
“I’m willing to deal for Misa Amane,” L said, watching her focus on him intensify. “She’s severely mentally ill and has been through immense trauma before she got one of these things. She needs care and neither you nor I can help her if we’re dead.”
He got a slow blink, a slight head tilt and he knew it was listening. Good, the price was its death or something equally bad which would free up Light. And Light, well, L knew he was being watched by murderous eyes even if they were hidden, Light smelled the blood, and L felt driven to push him under first.
“Do you really trust Light-kun, as he is now, to actually take care of her?” L asked and didn’t miss how she glanced over at Light who had to be falling apart right now. “He won’t, I think you know that –“
“Ryuzaki!” Light cried. “Of course, I would take care of Misa –“
“Then why, right after she came here, did all the killings start again? In a spectacular fashion, I might add,” L said, voice low, keeping his eyes on the Shinigami. “You were interested in that when she came. I thought maybe you were keeping an eye on Light but you wanted to see her, didn’t you? You were upset. Why?”
A shift, it was uncomfortable, L swore he could hear Light’s heartbeat from here, Matsuda clutching the Death Note beside him. The last thing he wanted to do was turn around and see Soichiro’s face, or worse, see the man have a weapon drawn on his own son.
One problem at a time.
“You asked me about the deal. To be able to see names and life spans, the owner of a Death Note can trade in half their remaining life.” It said, glancing at Light and he could see pure spite now. “It’s the second time she’s done that.”
L swallowed. Misa may not survive much longer and all for her obsession. He may not be able to pledge her mental well-being but he could try.
“Why should I trust you?” it asked him.
“Honestly, I can’t give you a promise you’ll accept. I can tell you that I know that if I betray you, you’ll kill me no matter the cost.” L paused, seeing it nod. “I need the Death Note she has, all of it –“
“It needs to keep existing for her to keep her eyes.”
L licked his lips. “I can hide it. Does it work on pictures?”
“Yes. As long as enough of the face is visible and clear. If a person is dead, she will see nothing.”
This is phenomenal. If I get her pasted back together, she could solve a backlog of horrific crimes that have no leads outside of surveillance footage alone – he stopped that train of thought because it was best not to get overly excited just yet.
“Once she relinquishes the Death Note, I would like to place her into care. It won’t be pretty, she’ll be angry but I think she’s suffering now. I think you know this. Even more, since the object of her affection can never love her. That is a truly terrible fate, to be left unloved and used, especially if you are not there to watch over her. We should be able to help her move on and I’ll have work for her, if she wants it, in catching criminals like the ones that hurt her family.”
Have nothing to say Light? How to defend yourself without screaming ‘I’m Kira’ is a tricky question indeed because the Shinigami is willing to turn on you. Not that I don’t doubt it isn’t thinking of killing as many as possible and then relying on Light to murder the rest. Or run and have Misa do it for him while he flees. No, it is still deciding, but Light’s backstabbing can’t be ignored anymore by it.
There were no objections, Light apparently having nothing to save this with that wouldn’t incriminate him further and the other two were silent behind him. Matsuda was calmly standing there, his expression unreadable but L would guess he was still terrified.
“I’m willing to accept this. I can bring the Death Note to you –“
“And we’re trusting this thing?” It was Light having finally found his voice and they looked. His face was red, angry and panicked and so many things that L wanted to gloat over if the man didn’t look so close to breaking in these seconds. “For all we know, it could be protecting the real Kira.”
L turned, seeing Soichiro who had a focus on Light and L knew his heart was breaking at this moment. It did not surprise him that Light would start trying to twist all of this, stab at any doubt he could.
“The real Kira is right here,” L said, staring at Light. “I admit, he’s been missing for a while, but you regained yourself when you touched this thing. Given that you never wrote in this book but there is a second out there, I’d like to know how you killed Higuchi. You had to have something hidden on you.”
It was so fast, an unconscious movement Light barely managed to stop in time, a hand flicking towards his left arm and L frowned, pulling at his memory as to what Light could have done. It was so close, he could taste it.
“How could you think that? I was right next to you! You know I didn’t write in –“
“Take off your watch, Light.” It was Soichiro, his voice monotone. L knew he wanted to plead, for Light to have an explanation, to just give him that watch that L remembered Light always had, even in confinement.
It had been a watch, a simple watch, a gift from his father, and L knew he had been foolish.
“Dad? You can’t believe this. It’s a Shinigami! Why wouldn’t it lie and get us not to focus on what’s really going on?”
“Why won’t you just give up the watch?” Matsuda asked behind him, voice quiet.
“Light, just let us see it,” Mogi added. “I’m sure it’s nothing, if you used it to hide something, it wouldn’t be there anymore, right?”
Light was near panic and it should be a relief, a triumph but L felt slightly sick thinking of the people watching his downfall. These people cared for this man, and his future. They had trusted him, vouched for him, his own father giving up everything.
“No! I have had to prove myself over and over again. My own father put a gun to my head! And every time I go through this, it doesn’t matter. No matter what I do, it’ll never be enough for Ryuzaki.” The way Light dragged out his fake name, the snide, venomous nature to it sent chills across L’s skin before Light pointed at the Shinigami. “You say you care about her but Ryuzaki’s the one who hurt Misa in the first place, right? At least, for you, he’s the one that threatened her, arrested her.”
“He is more trustworthy than you are, given that he was acting out of an understandable fear for his life” it answered. “I know what you’ve done, Light Yagami. You placed her with Ryuk because you knew I wouldn’t give her the eyes a second time but he would. She came to see you and you made sure she would do those murders so that suspicion would fall on her. There’s only so long it could be put off and I would be forced to act to save her. You would be rid of your greatest threat and me, all in one swoop. I know what you did, Light Yagami. He at least isn’t selling falsehoods. I don’t doubt he doesn’t want her eyes, but he isn’t lying.”
“I’ll do my best,” L told it, “I can’t guarantee success, but for as little life as she has left, I’m willing to make it as good as possible so that all of this stops.”
“Then we have a deal, Ryuzaki.” Just the way it said that name made him believe to his very marrow that it was well aware of his true one. “I am truly called Rem.”
Motioning towards the book Matsuda was holding he asked, “Will you tell us the truth?”
“Light Yagami was the original Kira. He had Ryuk forge the rules on the back for an apple.”
A sound of violence, chairs being knocked away, and L turned. Soichiro landed a punch to Light’s throat, wrestling Light to the floor, Mogi with his weapon drawn and L felt a knot in the pit of his stomach. Those cold eyes were staring at him, and L could feel the hate, that longing to kill him with his bare hands.
It was to be expected. What worried him was the look in Soichiro’s. There was a rage in that man that was barely contained and he worried Light might die here on his floor.
I would prefer it if you didn’t kill your son here, Soichiro Yagami. I’ll never be able to truly turn him over given the nature of the powers, but I don’t want to see that or your descent into insanity. I don’t want to see you die right after.
Not that I want to privately ask Rem to kill him and then destroy the book. There are few good options since he will never talk, at least usefully.
“That book, does it have any connection with Misa?”
“No. None.”
“Burn it, Matsuda-san,” he said, pointing at a metal trashcan. “I want it gone.”
“No! You don’t know what you’re doing!” Light was struggling, voice harsh from both rage and pain, but Soichiro’s full weight was on his back and L ached just how those knees drove into Light’s spine. “I swear, he has it wrong. Dad, you can’t let him destroy it.”
“We aren’t murderers, Light-kun,” L said, watching him as Matsuda pulled out the liner bag and started flicking the lighter.
Those eyes were wide, staring as a corner lit and Kira uttered his last words, “I revoke ownership.”
The book flared up a second later, Matsuda dropping it into the can. Smoke rose and L seriously hoped that it wouldn’t activate the sprinklers. He did not need another shower today.
“Dad?”
Turning, he saw much clearer eyes in Light, and with a falling heart, he understood what Light had done the first time around. Something brushed his hand, startling him and he saw Rem as she held up a tiny slip of paper before it was crushed to nothing.
“From my own,” she said, watching Light. “I felt it best to be visible for the next little while to you all barring him.”
“Agreed,” L said, watching Light who was confused and in pain, not understanding.
“He won’t know,” Rem’s voice was soft. “If he kept ownership he would have remembered after it burned. But now, unless he touches a Death Note again, he won’t ever know what he’s done.”
“Yagami-san,” L said and Soichiro finally released his hold on Light, pushing himself up. It was only then that he saw that Soichiro’s lip was bleeding, Light having hit him at least once during all of that, possibly more.
A step back, Soichiro wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, Light curled up on his side, his face a mess of confusion as his mind tried and failed to make sense of the last few minutes. L couldn’t imagine it. He’d attacked his own father, been outed as Kira, most likely could no longer see Rem, and had no idea how he killed all those people.
“Chief?” Mogi asked, lowering his weapon as Soichiro stared on, blank and unmoving. “What do we do?”
“Dad?” Light asked again, his voice pitiable and L felt some small measure of mercy for this Light. This Light didn’t understand why his father took another step back, would never know the blood on his hands, only that he was guilty.
“I don’t have a son,” Soichiro whispered before he turned and simply walked out, adding, “Do whatever you want with him.”
“Don’t,” L told Mogi, knowing Matsuda was staring at Light without looking. “Give it time. I’ll keep him in Amane’s quarters because he can be in custody there. If he truly has no memory of his crimes, he shouldn’t be handed over for trial and execution.”
L’s mind was ticking over, hoping Watari was on top of this and had eyes scrambled to put on Soichiro. He had no idea what the man would do if he would eat his own gun, actually simply disown Light, or demand that someone who L felt most likely had no knowledge of his atrocities be put to death. Soichiro was volatile and unpredictable right now and it may become even worse as the truth sunk in – not only was Light guilty, but Kira, in his cowardice, had left Soichiro the son he had once known to face it alone.
Just the difference in those eyes was close to enough to convince L that Rem was telling the full truth.
Light was openly weeping now, miserable, confused, in pain and so very alone, his entire life shattered because of one little book. And it was Matsuda who went to him, kneeling down, and taking his hand, Light pressing his face into his knee.
“Ssh,” Matsuda whispered as Light wept. “I’m glad you aren’t that, anymore.”
Stupid Matsuda, foolish and brave, a liar and kind. Stupid Matsuda who once again, in all his unpredictable recklessness, had shredded plans and schemes that L had laid down. As though L wouldn’t have noticed the lighter, that Matsuda was doing more than just some subtle manipulation.
Listening to him comfort Light, Mogi staring and useless in the aftermath, was choking.
Touta, what were you thinking?
L closed his eyes, the bells finally going silent.
Mogi and Matsuda had been gone a while and L tried to tell himself this was a good thing, not that those two were waiting for a body bag to arrive. His paranoia about everything had finally given him an unforeseen benefit, one that he never saw in thousand years – the ability to track Soichiro Yagami’s phone because he had become untraceable otherwise and he was attempting to prevent suicide.
If the rest knew how much he spied, even if it wasn’t voice and video, they would be – well, L figured they would have words.
Really, they should know me by now.
His eyes flitted back to the screens showing Amane’s old quarters that were now Light’s. A doctor had been called and had arrived, deciding to sedate. Light had gone from despondent to a strange sort of catatonic. His eyes were blank but he kept digging at himself, the effects of which were still apparent as red mars across his arms just starting to scab, a few on his right cheek as he slept, hands curled up in a type of mitten glove laced around his wrist.
All he could come up with to tell the doctor was that they believed Light to be suffering from memory loss and had just learned he may be responsible for something. And that was only to provide some background. In any other case, L would have looked for drugs or illness, for signs that there was a physical abnormality in the brain or that perhaps Light had taken a heretofore unknown substance.
In a while, he would see if he could convince Light to perhaps submit to some brain scans. It wasn’t pressing, it was something that could wait but it may be good to rule out anything that might have impaired his judgment.
Footsteps and he turned his chair, chewing on his nail as Watari and Aiber appeared, the latter with a bag slung over his left shoulder.
“Thank you for coming on such short notice,” L told him, not missing how Aiber’s eyes went to the screens. “I apologize for not being able to be clear as to our situation over the phone.”
“Understandable,” Aiber answered, frowning. “Light Yagami? He seemed in such good spirits the last time I saw him.”
L nodded, making himself watch and judge the reaction he was seeing. He had known this man for a long time. Aiber was an adrenaline junkie, it’s what got him into trouble. It was never about what he could steal or trick people out of, it was the trick itself that he craved. While deplorable to most, the man had spent years conning terrible people before L had found him caught in a trap with no way out.
“I expect it goes without saying that anything discussed from this point forward will never leave these walls.”
“Of course,” Aiber replied but L could see his unease, ideas starting to form even in infancy, perhaps from small signs he had seen prior.
I wouldn’t be surprised if he had suspected Light of something. Even in his innocent state, he was constantly trying to preserve his mask. Light feared everyone would see him as a phony to the extent that I’m not sure he knew who he was outside of what he thought everyone wanted him to be.
It’s something a man like Aiber would have picked up on, even if he hadn’t thought it done with malice.
“As was explained, we need someone to sit in person or at least be present in the room. We are hopeful that the acute stage will be over in the next week at most.” L paused, flexing his toes, knowing he was dancing around just how they got to here. “He is only dangerous to himself. If you need to sleep or wish to have privacy please just notify me or Watari. We do not expect you to be awake every hour. This is merely to ease the workload on everyone.”
“You need to tell me how he got like this first.” Aiber was still staring up at those screens, the ones that showed a Light Yagami in chains with restraints over his nails, injured and clearly despondent even in sleep.
L resisted the urge to ask if Aiber already guessed. It would do no good to prolong this as Watari stood nearby, waiting for the final decision.
“I want to stress that he does not remember his past crimes. His memories are gone and he is left with fragments at this point. In part due to the trauma, and in part due to this change.”
L paused, trying to think of the best way to put the next part when Aiber did it for him, “He’s Kira.”
“The original one, yes.” L watched seeing a flicker of something, sadness perhaps in the man’s eyes. “We are still assembling the pieces of what happened to him. I will say that the Light you met previously was him. It appears that there is some reversion to the personality. The traits he developed as Kira do not seem to be pronounced when he has no knowledge of them. Why and how he got those powers we are still sorting out.”
“I see.” Aiber nodded, taking a breath. “I’m willing to stay, at least for a while.”
“Thank you. Watari will take you up and provide you with a key that will allow you to leave both the room and the building as you wish. The second master suite locks to provide privacy. Anything else you need, you only need to tell us.”
L watched them go and wondered if Aiber looked at Light and thought of himself at that age. Those early years were still a mystery to L. There was a distinct possibility that Aiber had killed someone when a teen, though the circumstances were entirely different. Not that he was their therapist and given how against violence Aiber was, he felt they had a degree of trust that Light wouldn’t be smothered in his sleep.
Another possibility. If he doesn’t come out of this, how can I find someone to care for him that won’t simply kill him? Given what Kira has done and the isolation involved, that is something that must be weighed. And it’s not like I can employ a Kira supporter, we’d all lose our minds and Light still might be smothered because he isn’t Kira anymore.
L rubbed the bridge of his nose. It was exhaustion, the days of no sleep, and the idea of death constantly shrouding his mind. Things still lacked taste and he found himself disappointed. He thought it would get better, that the cake beside him would taste of something but it still did not. He had tried different things and knew it wasn’t Watari’s cooking or a defective manufacturing process.
It will get better. It is simply that there are truly no winners here. You have a broken boy, a broken detective, a broken woman, and a broken world. No one will be punished because of what Kira did at the end and your promise and Amane is extremely disturbed. Higuchi is dead and you can’t reveal the traitorous actions of the other six without revealing a Death Note exists and that is just not something that can happen.
L rolled a sugar cube between his fingers absently before finally dropping it into his lukewarm tea.
Or maybe you just don’t want to think about how angry you are.
Shifting his thoughts away from that he went back to trying to focus on lining things up with Misa. Aizawa knew to an extent what was happening with her and the paperwork was almost through with having her taken into care. Rem had gotten Misa to lend the thing and told her where it was buried and he now had that along with all the loose pages and pieces as a sub-letter of the note. It sat in a safe keyed only to him and eventually he would have to come up with a plan to allow her to touch it every four hundred and thirty-seven days to keep her eyes when all he wanted to do was burn it.
She may be delusional but she has sacrificed her life. Let some good come out of this if possible.
Rem had told him what would have happened if she had killed him. She knew, she realized it as soon as she saw the new murder spree what Light had done and that he was preying on her desperation.
L turned off the video feeds to Light’s room once Aiber was inside. He wanted to tell himself that he could trust the man to take care of his former Kira.
Or you just can’t watch anymore because you’ll break something if you do.
More footsteps and L wasn’t sure how much time had passed as he looked up, feeling like he was worn down to nothing. Mogi and Matsuda reflected his state, pale, eyes sunken in, shoulders slumped.
“He’s alive,” Mogi said, shifting, shaking his head. “We found – he was in his car with a bottle of Saki and a gun.”
L closed his eyes and nodded, breathing in and out.
“What was his state when you left him?”
“Pissed off that you had a tracker on his phone.” He listened to Mogi swallow. “We convinced him that this wasn’t all the way done. It’s not, it’s just –“
The sounds of things breaking and he opened his eyes, seeing Mogi standing with broken monitors at his feet, shaking, Matsuda with a hand on his arm.
“Sorry,” Mogi whispered. “I just – sorry.”
“It’s alright, Mogi-san. Why don’t you get some rest? Unfortunately, there’s still some to sort out but it’s not urgent.”
A nod, and he saw both their eyes flick over the now dark monitors.
“Aiber’s staying with him currently and he’s sedated.”
Mogi finally relaxed his hands but it was obvious, screamingly obvious to L that they both wanted to break everything around them. The hurt in Matsuda’s eyes was piercing and L worried that part of it was caused by him.
“You should rest, too.”
“In a little bit,” L said, making himself meet Matsuda’s gaze. “Amane has surrendered the Death Note, I just need to make sure the rest is properly where it should be.”
They walked out together, not saying another word to him but he thought he heard Mogi tell Matsuda it was alright or something close. The distant rattle of the elevator doors and L leaned back in his chair, his limbs heavy with fatigue.
Rem had hesitated when she had come back but had given it to him anyway – the letter Light had left for Misa that she hadn’t destroyed.
Kira would have been livid to find out she disobeyed. I don’t know if it was simply because she got distracted, Rem thinking she made the eye deal right there because she had been unable to remember, or if she kept it because it was the only thing she had where Light promised love to her.
It was cruel, so unspeakably cruel, and for all of Amane’s crimes, L felt a sliver of compassion for her. She was delusional, willing to bend reality however she could to even cling to the wisp of the idea that Light might one day love her. Or rather, Kira.
I doubt she knows Light. I doubt she knows anything past his name, his address, and where he goes to school. I doubt she has any idea of what he likes, what he fears, what he feels, any of it. At least she had Kira’s motives. She didn’t even bother to understand Light outside of trying to defend him when they thought Soichiro was going to shoot them.
I wonder how much Soichiro wishes he had done that murder-suicide plan now.
It was ugly and L pushed it aside, sitting in the silence of the building. The case was essentially over. He’d have to come up with some lies, but it was solved. He had the murder weapons, one of them destroyed. The murderers were out of commission.
It was hard not to hate Light and he finally pushed himself up from his chair because he was just sitting here, staring blankly.
None of this was the ending he wanted. Kira screaming as he was led away, while devastating to the rest, at least was closure. Instead, Kira had been a coward and now they had this and a pile of lies and dust. There were so few answers as to what had really happened. He wanted to say Light was a sociopath but that did not seem to be the case.
He went up to Matsuda’s floor, not sure if he should knock or just fall asleep in another unoccupied room because he didn’t want to go to the one he had shared with Light. The decision was made for him when he saw that the door wasn’t quite all the way shut. It was purposeful, it couldn’t have held like this if Matsuda had just blindly pushed at it on his way in, the weight was designed to close them.
He had a slight flash of amusement thinking of Matsuda arguing with himself while fighting the door so it was set up this way.
There was a little light, a low-watt table lamp in the front room as L entered, quietly shutting the door behind him all the way. He didn’t know if he should call out or not as he shuffled through, knowing his shoulders were slumped more.
Maybe you should address why you’re so angry.
Matsuda was awake, he knew that even if he couldn’t see his face and only his still mostly dressed form curled up on top of his bed with a blanket haphazard over his legs. Suit jacket and tie off and no other signs but L knew as he came forward. At a loss, L simply climbed in, curling up on his side, surprised he decided to face where Matsuda lay instead of towards the wall like he had earlier.
Earlier – when they had been naked here just under twenty hours ago and L was sure he was going to die.
Matsuda didn’t say anything as L lay there, finding that his fingers were opening and closing on the sheet, mashing it up in his fist in a methodical fashion to give his mind something to do.
These men are not your friends. You barely work together – all anyone has ever done is argue with you. Amane is insane and only put up with you because you were chained to the man she wanted. This man is not your lover, it was just high stress and you needed a release.
L turned his face into the pillow more, trying to will away the knowledge that Matsuda had come down with a lighter in hand. Stupid Matsuda had never planned to leave. Stupid Matsuda who was reckless had gambled with his life after L had made plans to save it because one of them should survive, even if it was just to stop this.
All of this was illogical. He didn’t have emotions, he didn’t need people, and he didn’t fear death. Light crying out for them to kill him a few hours ago before he slipped into his near catatonic state was of no consequence to him because outside of anything but a suspect, Light held no meaning to him. Soichiro foolishly planning to shoot himself in his car didn’t matter to him.
I’m just angry because Matsuda figured something out before me, he told himself as Matsuda shifted and L knew he was being watched even if his own head was tilted in such a way that he couldn’t see the upper part of the bed. He just decided he knew better – that’s why I’m mad. I’m mad because he keeps getting lucky.
The pillow smelled like Matsuda and L let out another breath needing to get up and leave and not wanting to actually do that. His hand just kept opening and closing on the sheet and he knew it was the same one that had been wrapped around them.
A hand reached out and stroked his hair and L turned his face more into the pillow but didn’t pull away.
“Touta.” Stay, go, I don’t know what I want and I hate you for doing this to me.
Matsuda moved closer, wrapping the blanket around him and L let himself stay.
He had to reread the email three times because he simply couldn’t believe it. A mass murderer from Italy was finally caught because Misa Amane had been able to see his name. Of course, he couldn’t tell Interpol that and they just thought he worked in mysterious ways but with a name, they found the man, and with the man, they matched fingerprints, and soon DNA as well.
L let out a sigh, smiling a bit, drinking his tea. He would have to be selective with who he gave to Amane for several reasons, if she continued to help, the most pressing being as he didn’t want questions or speculations about just how these names were gotten.
He hadn’t planned on staying in Tokyo but given that he didn’t have a plan for Light, who was still emotionally and mentally in pieces, a semi-deranged ex-murderer who was just beginning to take her medication and be of use, and a lover in the NPA, he was stuck in this country. He felt far less irritated than he thought he would be. Rem was pleased with the progress Misa was making, more good hours than bad now. Though, when they had taken her in, he felt Rem would kill him just from the curses Misa was spitting, sure he would be eviscerated by a distressed Shinigami.
That Rem had convinced Ryuk to let her take over the Death Note so he could go elsewhere was something L would be eternally grateful for. He didn’t care how bribable Ryuk was with apples, he didn’t want that thing in his home. Especially after how it had gloated about just what had happened to Light.
It had also given him an insight into the surprisingly complex rules that governed the Shinigami world as the two did the complicated verbal exchange after reading the rules.
The idea that Light hadn’t been able to cope with his first two murders and had knotted himself up into Kira made the child his own tragedy. Seventeen, Light had only been seventeen with an entire future ahead. Now, he was in shambles, barely speaking, Matsuda getting the most out of him.
At least Soichiro had finally come back yesterday, even if just for a few minutes, trying to understand. They were all trying to understand how this Light existed when they had met Kira.
He was still making sure his woven story about Kira was being bought given the stakes. Amane’s fate was begrudgingly accepted by the men who knew. She would always be Utika’s murderer but no one could deny she was mentally ill. L hoped she continued to be of use.
L leaned back in his chair, staring up at a case file, debating if he wanted to work on it or not, knees drawn up to his chest as his feet flexed against the seat of his chair, like normal. It was strange to be alright with staying, Watari not really caring as long as the mission continued. This was the country he was certain he would die in and instead he had picked up something far different.
“Stupid Matsuda, you better read me?”
L smiled, his back to the man still even if he was nervous, hearing those steps come closer. He knew what they sounded like, who they belonged to.
“You couldn’t name it anything else?”
“I wanted you to read it,” L offered, knowing it was a poor excuse right now, given how things turned out. At the time, he had been desperate, knowing he had to get the man’s attention, thinking he would be cold in the ground.
A hand in his hair and L let his eyes slip closed.
“Did you really send it that day?”
“Yes. I lie, given the situation, I can lie a lot, but not about that.”
A huff, some sort of resignation. “And you couldn’t pull it back, right?”
“No. I always could.” He was surprised when something quivered inside him, small and childlike, a fear that this would leave. “You’ve had doubts about that night. I wanted you to know what I was thinking that day.”
I didn’t use you, Touta. I can’t say those words out loud, it’s so ugly to me.
Matsuda walked in front of him and he was surprised that he looked upset, a hand lifting his chin up.
“Had no one ever told you that?”
“Not until you,” L answered. And somehow, even in the middle of that, you absolutely meant it, even if it’s changed and grown.
Stooping down, Matsuda kissed him. It was a tender little thing and L cupped the back of his neck.
Staying here meant they could figure out if they worked and Matsuda had his irritations, his little quirks. He was gullible, he was still impulsive. L was afraid he was going to get himself shot.
Matsuda pulled back, smiling something sweet and L knew he wanted this. Matsuda was joy, brought joy with him, something he had never felt, and tried to replicate with empty things. His sugar habits weren’t so important, anymore, as Matsuda rubbed his knee.
He didn’t compulsively work quite as much, not needing to fill the void that he had reasoned was just his always constantly working mind.
Probably because I need the free time to figure out the insane and unpredictable thing Matsuda has planned next in order to thwart it.
L knew there would be questions later, about his successors who he had simply said had names that came after his. Matsuda knew a little of his childhood. Eventually, the man would figure out that Quilish Wammy, owner of the world’s most questionable orphanages, and Watari were one in the same but it wasn’t a fact he was going to bring up sooner than he had to. No need to build animosity. Watari and he stayed together because it brought results. He no longer needed the capital, but he had softened, little by little.
Plus, after everything, Watari had a grudging respect for Matsuda, even if couldn’t resist putting salt in the wound by pointing out the man had connected the dots to something before L.
“Did you eat?”
L rolled his eyes as Matsuda cleared his throat and L kept questions at bay about whether or not Matsuda had recently cried.
“You and those pesky hobbies of yours.”
“You’ve started gaining weight.”
L sighed, let Matsuda tug at his hand, and pry him up from his chair. Matsuda made him lie down once a day for a few minutes at least, even if on a couch while working. Not that L would admit that giving his brain a break from screens and papers might be potentially useful. Matsuda pestered him to eat and didn’t nag too frequently about what he ate. He still washed his hair in his shower and made sure he had clean clothes.
In short, Matsuda wanted him happy, and to thrive. It was strange to have this level of worry, hard to get used to and he was still adjusting as they went to the kitchen, Matsuda holding his hand.
Stupid Matsuda wasn’t actually stupid and in ten years he would be a good detective in his own right if he stayed with the NPA. They had talked about Interpol or working directly for him. There was time, and the NPA was the safest. He worried about Matsuda dying.
“I think we still have some of that pasta salad.”
L nodded, sitting down as Matsuda went to get a bowl. He was surprised sometimes that Watari hadn’t just given up, poisoned them, and went to go start over with Near. He smiled slightly before it fell away because thinking of Near made him think of Mello and he had no idea what to do with that one. He thought about writing a letter: “Mello, I know you wish to live your chaotic truth but acts of terrorism are never excusable.”
He would make a terrible parent, he decided as he hid a smile till he saw the size of the serving Matsuda put down in front of him and it was just naturally gone.
“That’s like three people’s worth.”
“It is barely one person worth. You just eat like a bird.”
L scowled at it. It was fine, he could get it down. He just wasn’t looking forward to it and even less the lecture about how humans weren’t supposed to have bones that stuck out if he didn’t.
“I’ll give you an ice cream if you eat it all.”
“I’m not five.” L knew it was childish, knew Matsuda was silently laughing. Care, being cared for with all that came with it was taxing at times as he sulked. “Two. I get two.”
A sigh. “Two. Don’t tell me you got full then eat both of them right after. I’ll make some tea.”
Matsuda had come from work, meaning it was late and L poked at his food knowing if he just shoveled it in he’d be through it and back to sorting out what case he wanted next that might last him longer than five minutes. Glancing up, he saw the second tray. He worried for Matsuda at times, he put his heart into everything.
At least he had Mogi to talk to. Mogi had been confused over their implied affair, as he demanded answers to just what Matsuda had been thinking – which L wanted to know too and hadn’t gotten a true answer to yet. Then had just laughed and shrugged, not caring. L was glad for it, it gave Matsuda someone that was part of the world at large that he didn’t have to hide from, even if he was still called Ryuzaki outside of these doors.
They had found the tray in Light’s watch, the needle nestled still with its dried blood coating and he theorized Light had kept a scrap of a Death Note on his person from before he revoked his memories the first time. Feet, mere feet away in front of police with the chain still in place and Light had to bleed himself to kill a man without even a hitch in his breath seconds after he had regained his memories from touching the Death Note.
No, Kira, his mind corrected as he stirred whatever this was Matsuda insisted was food that he needed to eat. It is best to keep them separate still, as even though I can see how Light Yagami could become Kira he isn’t that. And if he has no memories, if his mind isn’t just blank but reverted, as he does not have the same personality traits, then the question remains what to do with him?
It was still a question that was left unanswered. He felt, in the end, that Light would end up under a lifetime of surveillance. His very existence and connection to Kira had to be carefully shrouded because he didn’t just think a variety of international agencies would send assassins if they thought he was an issue. They would but deny it. The problem came from Light potentially being abducted by countries who didn’t understand, and thought he could still kill as he had. Both he and Amane were at risk for this and he buried their names, their connections, and Amane being treated under a false name at a private facility. He was many things, a good man not being one of them, but he refused to subject either of them to years of torture and future execution for someone else’s power play.
Soichiro had come the other day just to ask if Light was alive.
“He is, Yagami-san,” L had answered, watching something complicated in that face. He had weighed so many things to say, to tell Soichiro that this was the same son who had grown close to him chasing Higuchi. That Light had an interest in physics of all things, though L was not surprised. Light liked puzzles and the universe was a puzzle. In the end, he had decided on the blunt truth. “I am worried he will take his own life.”
And with that, Light had gotten to hear his father’s voice for the first time since he had been abandoned a little over four weeks ago, simply stating, “I don’t want you to hurt yourself.”
Such simple words had a profound effect on Light and L didn’t think there was anyone to truly be able to say that to Soichiro. Mogi, Aizawa, and Matsuda all reported that Soichiro spoke to no one outside of the bare minimum of words required. His wife and daughter only knew that Light was safe and would not be returning, his name an unspoken forbidden word in their house.
If things did not improve, L felt they would lose Soichiro once his administrative leave was granted. It was the only thing that kept him here, the cleanup from the Kira case, the hiding of the corruption due to Higuchi, the rebellion of all those officers, obscuring the facts of the task force, just the existence of Shinigami and the taint of a Death Note. Soichiro wanted to be with his wife and daughter but was trapped in all the falsehoods his son had left him.
There was something bittersweet about all the lies but Kira was dead. That was as much as the world needed to know.
Matsuda put a cup of tea and a small bowl of strawberries and cream down in front of him and kissed the top of his head while he chewed.
“I’ll be back in a few.”
Nodding, he watched Matsuda pick up the tray and he could still see the tension, that strange uncertainty in the man. A fear confessed a couple of weeks ago that Matsuda worried L would get bored and move on, that everything would fall apart and L knew Matsuda didn’t think he had much worth.
“I wouldn’t be alive without you, Touta,” L said quietly, seeing him pause at the door. “I don’t just mean physically. I –“ he couldn’t find words, not like he did when he thought he was about to die. Death made him chatty and now everything he wanted to say sat perched on the edge of his tongue refusing to be uttered because it was too real.
Without you at all, I would have walked straight into Light’s trap. Even with you, talking it all out, I didn’t pick up on what you did in time. You’re clever and I was trying to save you while you insisted on staying. I can’t imagine not having your unpredictable hurricane of recklessness in my life.
“Besides,” L continued, staring at his food. “I’m still livid that you had every intention of burning that thing no matter what happened. I asked you to leave. You promised me you’d leave. How can I trust you?”
L cursed himself quietly that he had put it like that, staring down at the table, not risking a look over because that had to have irked Matsuda. Trust wasn’t the issue, he just couldn’t stop his mouth from working when he didn’t want it to.
His fingers itched for his sugar cubes, but they didn’t have any at the table.
“I know you get like this when you’re upset,” Matsuda said, voice soft and L forced back every denial he had about that.
“You were supposed to be more careful with your life, Touta.”
It was like he couldn’t stop and he made himself not close his eyes even if he couldn’t look over, fingers flexing uselessly against his fork. They hadn’t talked about that day, not really. L hadn’t wanted to, instead hoping it was shoved into the back of the closet of their lives even if he knew it would rot, eventually.
“After you left, I thought of how Light always sat close to you. That if something happened, that you’d –“ his voice cut off and L’s eyes finally did close because he knew what was meant.
That I’d die in the arms of my murderer. That isn’t an excuse, Touta.
“I value my life enough to know that if I left you to die, I wouldn’t have much of a life anymore.”
It was quiet, Matsuda with his head bowed and L frustrated he couldn’t get his mouth to work, to say anything, when Matsuda said, “I love you, too, L.”
He was out, going to coax Light to eat and L felt all his emotions as one giant wedge in his throat.
Matsuda hadn’t said that since that terrible day and L had worried that he wouldn’t again.
He managed to eat the entire bowl plus strawberries and didn’t feel overfull. Standing he went to rinse his dishes, pleased that Matsuda was taking this long as it meant Light was actually communicating today. Light was barely holding on by his fingernails and L didn’t know how exactly to help him.
It was a safer subject than everything else and he wondered what he did to deserve all the attention, devotion and simply love Matsuda poured into him every day. He was surly, he was aloof, he liked to argue, he didn’t trust, he was strange, he was blunt, he made people uncomfortable.
He was just difficult.
Yet somehow he got Matsuda with his delicate touches who innately had figured out he could be overwhelmed easily and didn’t like to be penned in. Matsuda with his loyalty and his intelligence when he used his brain hidden by the awkward exterior that was caused by years of neglect from everyone around him.
The man was his own cosmos, seemingly simple on the surface, a shallow puddle if not a bit murky but the more L looked, it fell away and seemed endless to all the things Matsuda was, could be. And he had always been right in front of him, enduring harsh jabs at his expense, doing all the things no one else wanted to do, never complaining, at least not seriously. He just put up with everything while hoping someone would see him someday and L swallowed as he laid out his dishes to dry.
The world was too harsh of a place for someone like Touta Matsuda.
For to be known is to be loved and to be loved is to be known. It was a quote, an idea that turned over and over in his mind at inopportune times, stealing his attention from his work, digging in, and making him try to disprove it. No one had ever bothered to love him before now. At the time, that early morning, he had felt it was chemicals released from sex and close contact and the pure stress of the world in peril that had caused Matsuda to tell him that.
He had been wrong. He knew he had been wrong in that supposition even then as he tried to convince himself that Matsuda was naïve, his own impending demise freeing up his thoughts, tearing apart his walls to allow him to say things he never would have shared. If he hadn’t been so close to losing, he would have chased Matsuda away, encased himself in thorns he had spent so long cultivating to drive away the curious who tried to look too deep.
It was the ugliness of fear, L knew, that kept him silent, fear that Matsuda would wake up one day and understand that he could do better.
Walking out, he found Matsuda returning, pleased the tray had been left up there. Light was having a better time right now as L put his arms around the man.
“Going to go pick out a case?”
“Not right now.” L pulled him closer, not understanding how all this happened but liking it all the same. He would spend the rest of his life trying to unravel how he ended up here with a giant building, a lover, a damaged young man, and a deranged madman in the basement. Along with a Shinigami who lurked and gave updates. “Right now, it’s time for my daily, ‘L must lay down and rest.’”
Matsuda kissed him and it always felt like it had the first time, albeit with more finesse. He had to hold onto the hope that he would be able to tell Matsuda all of this one day, that the little things like he was able to sleep beside him, were enough for now until he could voice all the thoughts that circled in his mind.
And he’d probably wish I was quiet again, L thought wryly to himself.
They walked towards the elevator and, as always, Matsuda reached out and took his hand.