Chapter Text
L's hands delicately brushed the fading imprints of cuffed chains on his skin, porcelain pale from all the last few months he had worn it alongside Light. There was so much to think about, which grated on him like the ringing sound of a funeral bell in the distance. Shinigami, a notebook of death, Kira, Kira Kira…..
Though the chain was gone, its presence lingered-around his wrist, in his mind, and in the stalking steps of the boy in question walking toward him.
Recently, with the concept of his death looming over him, L's mind wandered over the confines of a case. His brain felt muddled like rainwater, mixing in with coarse blood that diluted the brain and his corneas, so all that he could see was a red tinge in the air. Blood. That is what he will spill soon. He stopped looking at any reflective surfaces, afraid to find ichor on his lips and the pounding of a heart attack and Kira's leering grin.
But besides that his thoughts still wandered elsewhere.
Most importantly and strangely, all he could think about was rats.
The Skinner Box. It was an phycological experiment of the 1930s that would be ecstatic and nauseating, if it wasn't an experiment centered around filthy lab rats. The endeavor was meant to prove that the pursuit of reward could overpower all instincts, even survival, an honorary hypothesis that turned sour. It revolved around placing the creatures in a cramped modified chamber, in which a lever, pressed by the animal, triggered either a rewarding stimulus such as food and water, or a negative, such as painful shock. The rats rapidly learned to press the lever for a reward and to avoid pressing the lever that gave them the shock. He could still see the disheveled rats in his mind’s eye—scrawny creatures with quivering whiskers, their lives reduced to pressing a lever. Food. Shock. Reward. Pain.
Soon you took away the physical reward, and the bland lever became just as important to them
The Wammy house employed something similar. They had built their own Skinner Box, but with human children instead. An orphanage where no kids were adopted from. Hidden from the world.
When they took away the food, water, or another privilege, it was due to bad marking on grades. This was the “pain” the “shock.” But praise, food, water, acknowledgment and stimulation of the mind, was the “reward.” It was more efficient then any implanted electrodes in the brain could ever achieve. What resulted…..was a self-consuming circle none could break.
He remembered asking Watari, in his small voice and thumb plastered to his mouth, after he was told about the experiment. It was the first and last time he asked a question since he arrived at the orphanage; “How many times did the rats press that lever?”
And he would smile brusquely, with a glint in his eye. “Thousands and thousands of time every hour”
Rats prioritized vitalizing their pleasure circuits over food, even when hungry, and water, even when thirsty. Male rats would ignore a female in heat and repeatedly cross grids delivering electric shocks to reach the lever. Female rats would abandon their nursing pups to continually press it. Some rats would press the button as often as 2,000 times per hour for 24 hours, neglecting all other activities. To prevent death by self-starvation, they had to be disconnected from the apparatus. Pressing the lever consumed their entire existence. Their entire universe.
It wasn't shocking to him then, realizing how similar the system Roger and Watari employed, on him and the mixed matched group of abandoned orphans who were deemed lesser than animals in society. It just made sense to use such a process, like dirty hues turn colorful, cardinal clarlet and xanthous amber forming a kaleidoscope, a perfectly well thought out necessity. And L was clever enough, smart enough to push past the urges, to break the circuit entirely trivial of Wammy;s validation, because not even the cells of his brain can keep him prisoner in his own neurobiology.
It was only when his predecessor A hung himself, attached to a noose from the rusty bell tower, and Beyond rampaged, did L fully realize he never broke free. Never was in the first place. Because it was only then did he understand that he was representative of that lever the rats pulled that every one in that house reached out to press, to become. He was cyanide disguised as dopamine, a bundle of nerves.
He wasn’t just another rat in the system. He was the ultimate goal of every orphan who cycled through those walls. To be L. To replace him. To press that lever until their bones crumbled under the weight of ambition. He’d pretended for so long that he was above it, beyond the system’s manipulation. But he wasn’t.
The grooves of his fingers pressed into his veins, feeling the blood palpitating through his wrists. Red, ichor, thrumming through his arteries. It was the horror of it understanding everything. His role in his world. His imminent death.
The perfect rat in the perfect cage.
L pretends to startle, when he hears calculated footsteps approaching. He knows the sight that will greet him, of whatever chafed sociopathy will show through the porcelain cracks. His swishing thumb moves away from his flesh, and he looks up with an indulgent look that is not entirely false.
“Light-kun.” He instinctively says. “How good of you to join me.” The older mutters. “Here I thought you would try and stay away with your unchained newfound freedom, but here you are, staying close by my side”
He can see the way the boy's eye twitched at the statement, and his hand went to his wrist, as if a phantom pull told him the chain was still there. “Isn't that what you wanted in the first place? For me to be near you at all times?”
“Sometimes it's useful to keep the thorn at your side. So yes, you're correct. But you are not Kira” His tone remained flat and dispassionate as he knowingly thought, you are Kira. “And I have released the both of us. You are free to leave the building you know. We have been over this.”
Light is not as good as he thinks he is at hiding his expressions. He scowls visibly, and he thinks that even Matsuda, if he wasn't getting coffee for the rest of the taskforce, would pick up on his false visage.
Surprisingly Light seemed annoyed when L released him after the capture and murder of Higuchi. Maybe Light hated being unchained. Because even though being chained meant he wasn't free, it meant that L was not free either.
“Now look over those files for me, Light.”
Light seems hesitant. “Right”
L nods, stilling his stunted breath at their abrupt closeness. He pushes it aside, out of sight out of mind and goes back to staring at the floor. He is interrupted nearly 10.5 seconds later.
“See! You're doing that again!” Light proclaims incredulously. Irritation bubbling over, as the rotating chair screeched against the marble flooring.
“Doing what, Light-kun” he said, saying the abbreviation purposefully condescending.
“You're staring at the floor. That's why I came over here in the first place!” The wheel of the chair scraped against the polished floor as Light pushed him closer.
“I’m thinking.” His teeth grit, thoughts trapped beneath sealed lips.
Light reached over and and pulled L’s arm down, his thumb slipping of his mouth
“Hm, what was that for?” He asked, wondering if Light was trying to put them in a stage of forced proximity, so that L could get conditioned to their closeness
Light combatted his question with one of his own. “What are you thinking about? You're not staring at your computer screen like usual.”
Ah. Of course Kira wanted to know what his most ambitious enemy was thinking, planning. Especially since he thought L’s suspicious behavior of staring at the ground warranted weariness. Little did he know that was a common habit for him. And he was not thinking about Kira…..his throat constricts though he does not show it, and the syllables rush out.
“Rats. I’m thinking about rats” L truthfully said. It was either that or explain how he was thinking about Light and Kira and the false god he believed he was, and how it made him ill, like a biblical sickness.
He could see the surprise palpable on his face, he could practically hear the cogs and wheels in Light's brain halting. “What?”
“Dirty little rats. Those creatures that scurry around on the floor. Personally I've never had problems with them literally but-”
“Why.” Light looks truly confused, it was actually quite cathartic. Serves him right, after putting L through such continuously compromising and stressful situations. “Why the hell are you thinking of mice?”
“Rats. Its a critical distinction” He tuts, correcting Light.
“I know!” He says, erupting when his intelligence was undermined. So typical of Kira, and of himself. He should start making a tally of all the times Light self-reported with his outbursts.
“How does this have to do with the Kira case?” He pressed, clearly thinking L was lying, or messing with him. And he wasn't entirely wrong.
“No, it's not about Kira”
Light, in Kira fashion, reflectively frowned when he realized L’s attention was not on him. “So, why then?” He said, swiveling the chair back around when L tried to turn away.
L let out a long dragging sigh. He twisted around, opening his mouth to deliver a nagging flippant remark, but something caught his gaze. Wavering, his stare found the sharp irises of Light's eyes, which cast a rouge glow on his pupils in the limelight. A bloody vermillion.
Red eyes, like….well his thoughts often wandered to that individual from time to time. Calloused hands and blood-soaked nights. Perhaps since he suspected Kira would kill him soon, he thought about him more and more, worried that he would be waiting right behind that veil of death, to pull him down to a wretched eternity with him.
L was not afraid to die. He was afraid that when he did, Beyond would be there waiting for him in the afterlife.
“Ah my apologies, Light.” He said in a not so apologetic tone, his voice drifting off, in a wayward cycle. “You just reminded me of something. Someone.”
Light paused, irritation blending into intense curiosity, when he realized there was something he didn't know. “Who?”
“A Rat” He said, eyes floating to where Matsuda had come through the door fumbling as he balanced several cups at once. He absent mindedly added, “Someone dead.”
He was glad for the distraction, and for the first time thanked Matsuda, who fumbled awkwardly with the praise. He pretended to cheekily looked pleased as he put 13 cubes of sugar into his coffee while Light watched in disgust.
Beyond Birthday. Out of everyone, he was the one who pressed the lever the most, always finding true euphoria in the mere sight of L. He remembered those horrid days, hearing reports from the orphanage that after he left that Beyond had changed his appearance physically to match himself, like he couldn't handle not having his ruby red eyes on L at all times, that he would only be able to reach rapture if he could see him in his cracked mirror.
Beyond was the only one whose pleasurable reward was L’s pain.
Light kept looking at him, watching the way his fingers snapped at the paper cup. But L’s mind wasn’t on Matsuda or the coffee. It was on the lever. On the Skinner Box. On the endless cycle of reward and pain. And now most disturbingly, on Kira.
L huffed, half to himself, half to light, who drank too properly like he was drinking at a five star restaurant rather than from cheap coffee beans in a cheap lid. Perhaps he has been getting too metaphorical of late. Logically he knew waxing poetic was unbecoming of himself. Perhaps the drug that is Kira had become so potent that it had begun to deteriorate the grey and white matter of his prefrontal cortex, moving like a violent virus across his brain. All to spread to his heart.
Because if Beyond had pressed the lever for L, he worried then that perhaps Light was pressing it, too.
L’s first thought, after Light spoke after Higuchi's death was;
This is my Kira.
But this time he couldn't put him under the microscope.
Though he did not appear different outwardly, he was no longer Light, the 18-year old intern. Well Kira had always been Light, but awareness caused Yagami to act quite differently. Like salt and sugar look the same, but the taste that sits on the tongue has a different flavor.
Blood also looked the same. Sometimes he wished he could cut Light open, and see if he really was human. Or rather see if golden divine ichor flew through his veins instead.
Perhaps these violent tendencies that twitched at L’s fingertips was due to the fact he was aware that Light had him in a corner. Through day and night the shine in Light's eyes reflected that of a predator, a god who was ready to gorge on his victory. He could hear the bells ring and they sounded like the cold clanging ring of a funeral chime.
However, there was something that contradicted L’s original theory of his impending doom. Though they were no longer chained together, Light still clung to him every second he got, like a parasite feasting on the marrow of L’s bones.
“Ryuzaki, walk with me”
“Ryuzaki, come with me and Misa to get coffee. They have plenty of sweets there. And I’ll even pay” He would croon despite knowing L was far richer than he is.
“Ryuzaki you're annoying me, don't eat your food like that, here I’ll teach you proper etiquette..”
“My my Ryuzaki, you stayed up again? You slept more when we were sharing a bed” He would chuckle.
Even though the few days after Higuchi died, L was certain the old Light, the one who was sentient and aware he was Kira was back, Light had not killed him, but instead watched him like a snake ready to strike. Quite Like he was investigating him, not the other way around.
Predator and Prey, Prey and Predator. He was not sure which roles were for who. They switched so often, like the flipping of a coin. Teetering on the edge. Ready to reveal heads or tails.
Both of them observing each other, waiting for the other to crack. It was like everything had changed after they had found the notebook of death, and Light had grazed those pages, and screamed out when he saw the Shinigami. And it felt like nothing had been modified at all. He had slightly suspected Light to get Rem to kill him, after he set Misa up, but it did not happen, and he hadn't gone through with his plan to interrogate Misa again and test fake rules. He knew the “couple” were both Kira, and though he knew he had enough to persecute Misa, the Shinigami attached to the death note was an entity that he needed to factor in.
It was likely a small percentage Light would kill him with his bare hands. Light always looked at L’s neck, most likely fantasizing about strangling him in his chair or when they were chained together at nights in his bed. While instead of counting sheep to fall asleep, L memorized all the pressure points it would take to neutralize Light if he dared do so. Which never comes for an insomniac like him.
Though part of him was relieved, satisfied by Kira's return, a notion of him remembered Light, when his memories were gone, and he was just Light, a boy too clever.
He recalls, It had been a late night almost a month ago while they were still chained together, when the boy did something extremely unexpected, that not even his data could predict.
Light sighed, his pen tapping rhythmically against his notebook. “Ryuzaki,” he finally said, breaking the silence, “When was the last time you ate something that wasn’t sugar?”
L didn’t respond at first, his large, dark eyes flickering over the screen.
“Ryuzaki.” Light’s voice sharpened.
“Hm?” L mumbled without looking up.
“When did you eat?”
“I don’t recall. Perhaps it was this morning? Or yesterday?” L’s tone was nonchalant, but he knew Light could see the faint slump in his usually rigid posture.
“You’re going to burn out if you keep going like this,” Light muttered.
“I assure you, Light-kun, I am quite accustomed to these working conditions. Your concern is noted, but unnecessary.”
Light rolled his eyes but didn’t press further. Instead, he stood and walked to the small kitchenette at the corner of the room.
A few minutes later, he returned with a plate containing a sandwich and a cup of tea. He placed it unceremoniously in front of L.
“What’s this?” L asked, finally breaking his gaze from the screen to peer at the plate.
“It’s food,” Light said dryly. “People eat it to stay alive. You should try it sometime.”
L tilted his head, studying Light as though he were a particularly baffling clue in the Kira case. “Did you… make this for me?”
Light sighed, sitting back down and picking up his pen. “Don’t read too much into it. If you collapse, it’ll slow down the investigation, and I’ll have to pick up the slack. I don’t have time for that.”
L’s lips curved into a small, almost imperceptible smile. “How very pragmatic of you, Light-kun.”
“Just eat,” Light muttered, already returning to his notes.
For a moment, L didn’t move, staring at the plate as though it were a puzzle to solve. Then, he picked up the sandwich and took a slow bite. He chewed thoughtfully, the corners of his lips quirking in what might have been amusement.
“Not bad,” L said after swallowing.
Light didn’t look up. “Don’t expect me to make it a habit”
Light’s pen stilled in his hand. He looked up, his expression unreadable, caught between annoyance and something more complicated.
“It’s nothing,” he said curtly, but his eyes lingered on L for a fraction longer than necessary before he returned to his work.
He could still taste the bitter bread on his tongue, and the buzzing feeling of Lights' sole attention. Not that it had changed, Light seemed to look even more at L lately, like he wanted L to know that he was watching. Always watching.
L had decided to not discuss testing the thirteen day rule with the taskforce. Nor did he have any plans to do so. By playing ignorant, there was a better chance that Light wouldn't see him as an immediate threat. He knows that Rem has been acting awfully suspicious, especially when gazing longingly at any mention of Misa in what he had profiled as blind adoration. He couldn't test her, without knowing that the god of death would play a role in his demise. Though he was unsure about the paranormal forces that led to a Shinigami killing a human and craved to know more data on such.
It still did not secure his safety. Light may think that L was testing the thirteen day rule in secret without them knowing. And may use those pretty words of his to convince Rem the same thing, thus killing him. Not only that, Kira has started killing again, and Misa may very well have the eyes. Like Beyond had.
Its worse, to know that the taskforce are almost completely on Lights side. So naive, with little knowledge and vocabulary to understand why L still gazes at Light like he was a serial murderer just cut loose. Because he was exactly that. His intuition and intelligence was a curse. Knowing exactly what was going to happen to him before it did. Light had him in a checkmate, and he didn't just want to capture the king. He wanted to wipe it off the board, smash it into little wooden pieces. Light, Misa, Rem, all have triangulated him, and are now waiting for Light's perfect orchestra to reach its highest note.
He hears Beyond's voice in his head.
“Are you afraid Lawli?”
The note never comes.
Checkmate turns into a stalemate, the days drag on and L lives to see his 25th birthday. However he does not tell anyone on the taskforce about the date, and tells Watari not to get him anything this year, holding himself up in his room to stare at the hopeless kira case files.
The old man didn't listen and bought him a decadent seven layer cake.
He sometimes is surprised not to feel warmth on his side when he is laying in his bed. It felt for so long, even though it was a relatively short time, that Light and L had been sleeping together. No, not in that way. Being chained together caused problems for their sleeping arrangement, causing them to unfortunately share a bed at night.
Put two sociopaths in a bed together, sleep was a luxury if they ever got it. Most nights involved L stealing the blankets and vice versa, or typing on his computer into the late hours of the night just to keep light awake. And Light would retaliate by kicking him in the behind until he fell off the mattress.
So strangely enough, even though he heard the funeral bells in the distance, death had not come to claim him yet. He was not sure how to feel about that.
A silent voice told him to just test the thirteen day rule. It would be simple. Two criminals on Death Row would be sent a page of the Death Note and would write in them once before the pages were confiscated. If they did not die once 13 days had passed, L would prove the rule was fake. But he would sign his own death warrant to prove he was right.
“Kira” had started killing again, confirming there was a second note, and the taskforce was getting restless. They needed to locate the other death note. But in doing so, he was closer to drawing his last breath.
He would be disappointed, if Light used Rem to kill him. He wanted to say to Light that if he was gonna kill him, then he should do it with his own hand.
But he hasn't yet, so now they were both locked in an excruciating stalemate.
“Ryuzaki, Lets play chess”
This time, L agreed.
They are on the 17th floor of his building and the clouds, L gingerly grips at the mahogany table, another tapping incessantly at the wood, thoroughly unsettled as rain droplets splatter against the window, like blood does when it hits the walls.
Light does nothing to disguise his distaste at L, or maybe for the fact that L is looking at the melancholy sky, rather than him. He isn't entirely enraptured, with shapes the fog makes, rather he chooses to not look at the other, for every time he dies, he imagines himself with a needle and a scalpel, dissecting his brain.
His most irritating suspect, chose the white set, the holy pale chess piece sliding first. When L glances back, its his turn to voice his disappointment at the move.
“A Kings Gambit opening” he notes. “How basic.”
Light frowns. “Its effective”
“Is it?” A lilt of tease at the edge of his voice. He waits another turn, and pushes his d5 midnight bishop diagonal.
Lights brows furrow slightly. “What defence is this? Scandinavian?”
“Guess.”
Back and forth they pull at each other scratch, at each other in a metaphorical sense but never skin deep. Not yet. And he knows the other wants too, as much as he does, to watch the other bleed.
A droplet reaches the windowsill, teetering on the edge of life and death before plummeting down the side of the skyscraper. The clouds continue to weep and L cant help but smile as Light makes his first mistake.
“Oops” he mocks, scooping up the pawn with his concealed knight. Light, lecherous, manipulative, prideful Light carved up his own grin as well, because in the next second, he too has reached his pawn, and murdered it.
It's only pawns, but it feels more than that. It's a playing field where they can observe each other's behaviour, and watch how their intertwined lives have unfolded. If Light is a king, then Misa is a queen that can move in any direction, the Shinigami, their knights, or perhaps bishops. He always played white.
Then L is the moonlit king, whose only defenders were the foolish task force playing the role of pawns, and perhaps the undetermined bishops, Wedy and Aiber.
Only L can face Lights burning eyes and see him for what he truly is.
Speaking of Aiber, at the door, a knock was rapped, echoing, once, twice before being pushed open. The man himself came waltzing in.
Slicked back hair and the thick french cologne, Un Matin d'Orage, that he had become involuntarily accustomed to wafted through the air before his voice did.
“Ah L!” he said, having refused to call him Ryuzaki like the rest. “And Light.” He said considerably less enthusiastic.
“Aiber” He greets, his words stale as he faces the theatre of war in front of him. He moves his intricate queen to the right.
Aiber does not seem taken aback by L’s prosaic response, rather encouraged by it. “I see you playing with your toys” he teases, and L is not sure if he means the chess set or the boy across from him. Maybe both.
This time L turns around. “You know me well” he deadpans.
Aiber chuckles walking closer until he is leaning over L’s shoulder. His jasmine breath is tepid against the bump of his neck. “So who's winning?”
Light is eerily quiet since the man arrived, and isn't quick to proclaim himself the premature winner. Instead he watched him, like a predator watches another.
L blows a hair out of his face. “Hm, I think we both know who will come on top.” He says, if only to rile Light up further.
Aiber chuckled at that, shuffling to grab a chair, before straddling it, thick chin in calloused hands. He waved dismissively, “Go on, I’ll just watch” , his eyes barely glancing at the board to go back to settling on L.
Light grits his teeth, which is only audible for anyone to notice except L, and moves his pawn three spaces up. Clearly, he was mad at Aiber for intruding their sacred space, their cat and mouse game of chess, and for staring at what he saw as his mouse for the entirety.
L could already tell that light was going to try and use this to his advantage.
When he moves his knight, it clicks with the black space on the board he asks, feigning incuriosity; “Aiber, how did you and Ryuzaki meet?”
Aiber had been smoking. Drinking as well. L could tell from the way he pressed his enthusiastic words out of his throat.
“Good question kid!” he said, unfolding his legs to lean in closer. “I ‘met’ him the night he arrested me, while I was pretending to be a DGSE on my way to poland. Turns out he had been surveilling me for over a week, waiting to scoop in and collect me to bring me into Paris authorities.”
He shot a lethargic wink at L. “Those officers were truly stupid. You should have seen their faces when L told them off”
Light sent a faux appreciative look at L, as Aiber continued.
“However, he gave me one of his classic ultimatums. I would either spend the next thirty years in jail in the filthy prisons in Paris, or I could be on probation and help work on cases with him.”
“And you chose the latter?” Light questions.
“Of course I chose the latter! And several cases later, I don't regret it.” He said, clasping a hand on L’s shoulder that lingered for far too long.
“Several?” Light arched an eyebrow. “I’d love to hear about how you used your expertise. Tell me about them.”
Light had a way about subliminally commanding someone to share every detail of a story, and Aiber was not immune, especially since he loved to talk.
“I’m glad to hear someone shares an interest” he nudges L and says “You should learn from him.”
“Aiber.” L warns, tries not to hiss through his teeth. Light's smile grows wider. L knows that Light knows from countless hours of observation that he can tell when he is uncomfortable.
Two psychopathic geniuses can hide themselves from the world, but not each other. A cruel speculum.
“Well the first few were easy tasks, get close to a leader of a gang, or trafficking ring, infiltrate and gather information, you know the drill, I’m a con man, and I was utilised as such. However, that one case in california” He whistles. “I had to go face to face with another conman. That one was…”
“Where in California?” Light presses, palm pressed flat on the table.
“Los Angeles. The city that never sleeps.” He exaggerates a yawn, and every fine hair on the back of L’s neck stands up.
“It ended up being called the LA or what was it? BB murder case, though L made sure all details from the case were not released. Airtight.” He made a motion of running his finger across his mouth like a zipper. “Which is a shame because that serial murderer nearly got to L-”
L’s feels his chest tighten like a cobra. Like Kira was in the midst of writing down his name in the finest ink. "Aiber." He interrupts with a firm warning.
"Which is funny," he continues which makes L use all his willpower not to take the bait and make him stop running his mouth, but Aiber, growing more confident, leans in further. “The killer looked just like him,” he breathed.
L needed a way to shut this down, quick. Dark lashes shudder, and his head tilts up in an oncoming sigh. “Drunk of High?”
“What?” Aiber startles, caught red handed. He steps a few paces back, raising his hand in mock guilt. He laughs, “Okay okay, you got me there”
“Both then?”
“Well….”
L does not share his amusement. “You know I still have you on probation. Any substance is against it. Sober up quickly or I’ll make certain your term is longer.”
Aiber sighs. “You used to be fun. Now all you do is walk everyone on a leash.”
“Ask Watari for help with the hangover” He adds with false laziness.
“Right right” he waves his hand walking swiftly towards the door, not before halting, to reach out with a big hand and ruffling Lights hair like one would do to a dog. He could see the inner war in Lights mind; to continue playing the polite college student or slap Aibers hand away in irritation.
“Leave” He said, neither malicious or warmly, and Aiber shut the door with an echo of bourbon laughter.
Afterwards it was quiet for half a millisecond, before Light opened up his mouth and spoke with his silver tongue.
“An LA murder case huh.”
L gives him a long dead pan gaze. “Ah. Nothing special about it.”
“That's not what Aiber was implying.”
“Aiber was saying a lot and nothing at all. Don't take him so seriously in that state, Light-Kun” he said, adding on the prefix to knock him down a peg.
“And the serial killer of the case?”
L made sure his breaths were even, so he could come across as causal as his blood against the walls of his veins. “What about it?”
“He said he looked just like you.”
“Hm” L trilled, clicking the black knight against the white one, before taking it in his hand. “That's just Aibers' delusion. Did you know he thinks that Matsuda and Ryuga Hideki look alike?”
“Not the point-”
“Its exactly the point. And there's nothing else about it” He rolls his shoulder, glancing at light to make his next move. “Your turn”
Light moves his bishop, with a face akin to a blank slate. Which meant he was frustrated.
Light, consciously or subconsciously saw the world as his chessboard, and information about L was something that could move the game forward. The people are an obstacle in his game, and L, a shiny new toy. Though his intelligence was far beyond the years of his age, or any normal person, his worldview was naively childish. To use and discard people like dolls, to change plans like the shuffling of a card deck, never seeing the consequences of his own actions. Juvenile.
And L was the same. To him, Light was a plaything, that was becoming increasingly more dangerous, but more exciting.
“Aiber is interested in you.” Light said, out of the blue after two minutes of silence, in which L did not blink.
“He just misses his wife. He's a simple man always looking for a respite” L said, unsurprised.
“I doubt his wife looks like you.”
“I hope not,” He said, not missing a beat.
Light frowns. “What do you mean?”
He lazily points at his face. “I’d feel bad if she looked like me.”
Light looked shocked, and L’s eyes narrowed, trying to find out if he was faking it.
“What?” He challenged. “I’m frankly described as conventionally unattractive. Nothing more or nothing less”
“I don't believe that.”
Now it's L’s turn to frown. “How so?”
“Your looks are…but….” Even though Light always intrigued him, he was starting to annoy him. Why was he acting like a flushed brat, a shy schoolboy?
L wanted to chew cardboard. “Don't be shy, Light-kun. Say what you mean.”
Light bristled, straightening. “You're abnormally ……..beguile. Pretty.
The knight chess piece slipped out of his hand. “Repeat what you said.”
It was almost painful, the way Light had tried to cover up his blush under a cool collected facade, though a pinkish-rouge pallor he had never seen on him before gave it away. “I said what I said already.”
“Then indulge me and say it again.”
Light looked like he wanted to flip over the chess board. “I said, you're abnormal….looking.”
“You think I’m pretty, then?” L looked at him intensely, sending an ink black boiling stare that could bore into his.
“That's not what I said!”
“That's exactly what you said.” He murmured, taking back the chess piece and moving four spaces up to collect a pawn. “But I am glad you said it.”
Lights jaw went slack. “Really.”
“Yes.” he said, soaking in his expression with owl-like eyes. “I can now conclusively say that my suspicion for you being Kira has went up from 0 back to 5%
L knew all of Light's microexpressions, and had memorised them until the tiniest hint could give him a clue into what he was thinking. Predictably, he didn't need to, because Light at the moment made an expression that if it was a sound it would be head-splittingly loud.
“What! How the hell did you deduce that from? L, Ryuzaki, have we not gone through this?” Higuchi was Kira, and even though the killings have not stopped, you cleared me of suspicion in front of the entire task force and my father. Was that a lie?”
“No” L lied. Truthfully his instinct and suspicion of Light being Kira has always, and never wavered at 99%. But it was unlikely Light knew that. “Yet what you said about me raised the statistic.”
He really was poking the snake, but from the angry blush on his face made it all worth it.
“You can't be serious, Ryuzaki. All because I called you abnormal”
“All because you called me pretty, yes” L said blithely, before he nodded to him. “Now your turn.”
“Wait, no no, you dont get to do that.” Light leaned over, casting a shadow over the chess board and planted his hands on the armrests of his chair. “You need to tell me why that is.”
L looked up, quite comfortably caged between Lights arms. He decided to pinch a little further at the serpent's scales. “Why should I”
Light cleverly threw back his own words. “Indulge me”
The corners of L’s lips curled sharply. “I’m ugly. That is a fact, at least to the average human. However, from the data I've collected, only Psychopaths find me attractive. Kira is a Psychopath. And you.” He jammed his finger into the delicate part of Light's ribs, watching him wince. “Find me attractive. Psychopath. Have you connected the dots yet, Light-kun?”
“I don't find you attractive! And…” Somehow, this made Light blush further. Reducing the silver tongued genius to mumble his words. “I-how? How do you know that?”
L shrugged, pushing Light away, who stumbled and plopped back into his forlorn chair. “My theory is always proven right.”
“What could you possibly mean? I mean….how many psychopaths have found you attractive?”
L began to count on his fingers. “1, 2, 3….4”
He revelled in the lack of control Light had over the epiphany. “No way” He breathed. “You got to be kidding me.”
“5, 6,7,8….no 9. Yes nine criminals, all diagnosed with a sociopathic disorder in some way. All sentenced to death after I captured them.”
All except for one. But Beyond birthday still died anyway in confinement, at Kiras hand. After all, when he had discovered his death, it was when he joined the Kira investigation.
Light luckily jolted him out of those gripping thoughts before it pulled him under. “Your ridiculous Ryuzaki. Absolutely ridiculous.”
L looked at him, at the beautifully carved jut of his jawline and those….aubourn eyes, and found himself wishing Light had leaned in a little closer.
“Back at you.” He whispered.
“I have Misa.”
L felt the muscles in his face strain from trying to hold back a small smile.
“I don't find you attractive.”
“But all the signs point to the opposite.”
Lights perfectly threaded eyebrows dipped. “Signs?”
L sighed, standing up, his long body reaching over the table. His hands curled, as he observed light, who did not lean away.
Placing two underneath the intrinsically carved jawline, and lifted his chin up to eye level from where he was sitting.
“As someone who has watched you for days on end, I've watched you more than you have seen yourself. I know the signs.”
Light's voice turned a raspy tune. “You know you're actually pretty creepy”
L cocked his head to the side like an owl. “Creepy?”
“Yes. No one stares at young boys for hours without being a pervert.”
“Most aren't Kira”
“None are”
L tightened the fingers on the soft skin of his chin. “Most aren't so perfect like you. Top grades, handsome face, routine so normal it would look scripted. Every aspect of you is artificially cultivated, crafted like some grandeur plan. A god pretending to be human, or human pretending to be a god”
He could see light visibly swallow, his Adam's apple bobbing.
“You think I’m god?”
“Whichever way, a childish one.”
This time, light doesn't take the bait when L picked away at his disillusioned god complex and suffers his pride. Instead;
“Well you also just noted that I’m handsome.”
L’s brow twitched. “Hm?”
Light looked like he rolled a royal flush “Handsome. You called me handsome.”
He feels as if this is a conversation that has happened before. L clicks his tongue, shaking his head in faux disappointment before dropping his hands. From the look on Light's face, it looks like he wants to snatch it back.
“Hey where are you going!” He complains loudly, that the taskforce could probably hear him from the other room.
“I need a break from your needless pestering” He says simply, watching Light squirm with annoyance.
“You started it!” he yells back, and L tries to hide his smile. How strange reality has become, from witty mind games with the teen to petty arguments that buzz blood-warm at his skin.
He hears the leather soles of shoes tap at the alabaster flooring, until it stops right next to him. “You can't leave yet. We need to finish the chess. And I need to talk to you about a few things.” Light said, coming up from behind him, his breath caressing his neck and causing gooseflesh to rise at his porcelain skin.
“Need to or want to?” L shoots back.
He raises his eyebrows when Light is quick to say. “Want to.”
“Hm” he hums, uneasy at his admittance. “I’ll consider it. That is, if you buy me some cake. Preferably vanilla with whip cream.”
Light blinks twice before smiling sharply. “Oh Ryuzaki. I’ll get you more than that.”
The chess once again ended in a lukewarm stalemate. He thinks Light is holding back from beating him. Just as he is holding back from killing him.
-
Turns out, the boy decided to make it a date. He reserved a candlelit dinner at one of the notoriously expensive restaurants in Japan, stationed on the top floor near a window. Also known for its fanciful and perhaps plethoric deserts.
The glowing lights of the Kanto region spread out before him, a spectacle, prism in the twilight. Close enough to squish his cheek against the glass pane, he could see the people crowding down below, talking with their loved ones, rushing home from work. A hivemind of ants. It's how he saw the world, and how Kira did too.
Speaking of the devil, he shifted his eyes to where he was seated across from him. Light looks exceptionally beautiful in the limelight, though L deigned not to say anything. His suit was thoroughly ironed, wearing the suit like it belonged to him, though he guessed it was actually his fathers. His eyes, usually dark and perilously intelligent, were smoky with sin. He could be mistaken for wearing eyeliner that accentuated his jawline. Yes handsome was the only way to describe him.
The whole situation is very ironic, that if L dappled in humour he would find it funny. Sitting across from the man who wants to kill him, and vice verse. Like the final supper of Jesus and Judas. He is brought back to his early childhood in church. Psalm 23:5 – “You prepare a table before me in the presence of my enemies…”
L sighed, his breath frosting the cold window, before fully turning to face him.
The priest had decorated himself in bloody hues, as he folded through the golden adorned pages of the bible, and spoke of Jesus' betrayal like it was a sacrifice.. He held L’s hand in his and squeezed it until it turned a rashy red as if to get the point across. “Truly I tell you, one of you will betray me—one who is eating with me.”— Mark 14:18 he had said with the powerful boom of his voice.
But L does not dwell long in things from the past, that were not the present reality. He opens his mouth facing Light directly.
“You're not going to be able to pay for all of this” He said simply. It was the first few words he had spoken since he had gotten here, and they had been sitting in silence which could have been awkward if they were normal people.
Light tried to pay it off with a laugh. “I have money, you know. I’m not some broke college student.”
“Yes, but perhaps I should pay for it’
“Like I said Ryuzaki, I was the one who took you out, I will pay” Light said, waving around an expensive sheepskin wallet like it meant nothing to him.
“I’m a billionaire,” L replied blandly and perhaps bluntly.
Light smiled, smoothly tucking in the napkin on his lap. “It makes me wonder, did you inherit your money or did you earn it all”
“I earned it” L said, pretending to be bored as he flicked at the champagne chalice, ringing like a bell as it did. His ears tingled with intense focus of the honey like the quality Lights voice had.
“How?”
He cocked his head to the side and smiled. “I started investing in stock and financial schemes when I was seven”
Light's face morphed into something that resembled genuine shock. It probably was.
“Children can't own bank accounts.”
“Of course not, that's why I got Watari to invest for me.”
“I see,” Light nodded, his eyebrows, however, narrowed. “I didn't expect that….”
The waiter came, all dapper with a tedious black bow and a glossy suit. “Mr.Yagami and…” he turned to look at L, face scrunching up in disgust when he spied the unorthodox outfit he was wearing at the establishment, his classic cotton shirt and blue jeans.
“Mr Ryuga ” Light finished for him. “He's with me”
“Of course,” The waiter said, gaining some composure. “Welcome gentlemen, to our esteemed establishment. How should I start you men off for tonight.”
Light cleared his throat. “Well, we would like…”
L was quite irritated when he ordered for the both of them, until Light ordered a large fluffy vanilla angel cake with strawberry whip cream. He was quickly forgiven, in his mind.
“You remembered what I wanted,” L commented, as the waiter left.
“I have an excellent memory” He replied and if L was the type of person to roll his eyes, he would at Lights pretentiousness.
“But the real reason why I remembered, was because it was about you” Light continued, and L knew where this was going. “I wanted to talk to you because I wanted to get to know you.”
He wanted to say coarsely, that “Of course Kira wants to know everything about his enemy. Every thread seen is one that can be tugged on. Exploited."
“Why do you want to know?” He still asks anyway. Just to see what grand excuse Light will come up with this time.
“For two months we were chained together, in constant company of one another. Yet it seems as if I know nothing about you.”
Over those weeks, l had spent hours upon hours, days and days staring at Light. Dissecting him, seeing what made him tick. It seems now that Light wants to be the one holding the scalpel. Touche.
“I don't believe it. What do you really want to know?” he says, twirling the fork around with his thumb and pointer fingers, wishing he could stab it down into the mahogany of the table.
“You” He insisted.
L’s pouty lips downturn into a frown. “You know me enough.”
Light straightens in his chair, crossing his arms. “You say that, but it’s clear you don’t trust me. You watch me like I’m under a microscope, waiting for me to slip up.”
L’s can't help but sharpen his amused eyes. “And do you feel close to slipping, Light-kun?”
Light exhales sharply through his nose, frustration brimming beneath the surface. “You deflect everything. I’m trying to have a serious conversation about how we can make progress, and you’re playing games.”
“I assure you,” L replies, his voice low and even, “I am always serious.”
Light follows the movements with his umber pupils before looking him directly in the eye. “What is Watari to you?”
L stills. He is not going to give away answers easily.
“Try and guess”
“He is related to you”
L smiles. “No”
“So he is not your legal guardian?”
“Yes”
“He is just your caretaker?”
“He is not just my ‘caretaker’. But yes, he plays that role”
Light taps his fingers against the lace tablecloth. “So your an orphan”
“Was an orphan. I’m an adult now”
“How old are you now?”
“24.” he lied, chewing the inside of his cheek.
“You don't look it” Light practically whispers.
“Is that an insult or a compliment?” L questions, not that he cares.
Light ignored him, hurtling straight for the next inquiry. “Where did you live when you were a child?”
L tuts. “Only yes or no questions”
“England then? Is that where you grew up?”
“Yes and no.” He sighed, rubbing the fork on his lip. “ How did you know?”
“You look like you have English heritage. It was a shot in the dark.” Light shrugged. “What do you mean yes and no?”
When L did not give him a hint, Light sighs. “Did you move around alot? To America perhaps.”
L nods, always enthralled at Lights deductions. “Correct”
Light beamed at L’s affirmation. “Did you grow up in an orphanage?”
L paused, realising this was reaching into dangerous territory.
“Why does it matter?”
But his non answer was an answer in itself. Light smiled, all teeth, honing in on that particular distrust.
“So you did grow up in an orphanage” Light raised his eyebrows, with what could be interpreted as mocking and interest. Whatever it was, it was prying. “I assume it was an orphanage in England then.”
L swallowed, swirling the spikes of his fork into his napkins. “Light Yagami attended Machida Municipal Minamiya Elementary School between ages 5-9. That's where you went as a kid. I heard that the teachers still talk about how brilliant you were as a student there. And don't get me started on your middle school”
Light stuttered at L’s counter attack. “Are you trying to distract me?”
“Ashai Ito was your best friend at the time, all the way up into the sixth year, when he left the region. But you never really liked him, did you? Let me guess you used him to make yourself look better. After all, he had such bad grades it must have looked like a charity case from an outsider-”
“Ok ok I get it” Light said, smacking a firm hand on the table, silencing it. “I dont even want to know how you know that information. I see your point is.”
“And my point is?”
“That you dont want me prying into your life.”
L smiled around his fork, chewing half-heartedly on the metal. “Exactly. It seems like we are at an understanding.”
Light attempted to hide his frustration with a cough. “I dont think it's fair that you know so much about me, but I don't know anything about you.”
“Perhaps it's because one of us is Kira and the other is the detective trying to catch him.”
Lights fists clench around the butter knife. “I’m not Kira, and do you actually think I’m going to be able to find out your name through these simple questions?”
“No, if you thought that you're even dumber than I thought” He bit down hard on his fork, the metallic taste soaking his tongue. “But no victim would willingly give information about themselves to their killer.”
“I’m not going to be your killer” Light groaned, though the knife in his hand gleamed sharply. “Don't try and make yourself out to be some perfect victim either.”
L leans forward slightly, resting his chin on his knees. “And what about you, Light-kun? Are you suggesting that you, a paragon of perfection and discipline, are the perfect victim? Continuously accused of being Kira by some deranged detective.”
Light chuckles softly, though the sound is hollow. “I’m not as perfect as you think, Ryuzaki.”
“Of course not,” L says without hesitation. “No one is. But you certainly enjoy pretending to be.”
Light’s smirk falters, and for a moment, the mask slips entirely. “You think you know me so well.”
“I’m not, but the facts remain the same.”
“It doesn't. You willingly chain yourself to your Kira suspect for months yet you won't even tell me, after I’ve been cleared as Kira-”
“You haven't been cleared.”
“-anything about yourself. You said I was your first friend”
L feels something uncomfortable tug at his chest, perhaps his heartstrings. He had lied when he had said that. He had figured Light would have realised that by now. But…..
His emotions get the best of him.
“Alright. I get it.”
Light stops talking, his arms returning to his side. He still looks bitter in his stone composure.
He knows angering Light is a bad move. Like taking a pawn in a chess game. He's bathing in hot water, when Kira so clearly has the upperhand. But he says it anyway.
“I’ll tell you one thing….you are not the first person I said that too.”
He doesn't see Lights expression, because a millisecond later he hears the rolling of a elaborate trolley and the professional voice of the waiter “Gentleman, your dinner is here”
His mouth waters when he sees the cake. It's a decadent three layers vanilla, the frosting a pasty whipped buttercream, smooth and fluffy strawberries garnishing the powdered ganache and sugar.
He glances at what Light ordered, a medium rare steak drizzled with sweet gravy, an english delicacy, only to find that light is still staring at him. His arms crossed, eyes hazy and lips pulled taught.
Ignoring him as the waiter glides away, he stabs into the cake, digging into the fondue. When it reaches his lips, his dark eyes widen minutely. It tastes like heaven.
“And he took bread, gave thanks and broke it, and gave it to them, saying, ‘This is my body given for you; do this in remembrance of me.’ In the same way, after the supper, he took the cup, saying, ‘This cup is the new covenant in my blood, which is poured out for you.’” Luke 22:19-20-
Light, who seemed determined to glare at him for the rest of dinner, glances away when L begins licking up the frosting with his fingers, a livid rouge on his cheeks.
“Mmm” he mumbles. “This might be better than where Watari gets them. Light, you need to try this cake.”
Light shifts, more than a little irked. “Ryuzaki, if you think I’m going to just pretend you didn't just say what you did-”
He is swiftly cut off when L dives forward and shoves a spoonful of the frosting dessert into his open mouth. He shouts muffled, eyes widened with surprise. But with no choice, he bites down and swallows.
“See it's good isn't it?”
Light, snarling, shoves the fork away, clattering onto the plate. L plops back down onto his seat in his usual position. He watches, satisfied as Light wipes away the mess on his pink lips with the sleeve of his suit.
“Don't do that again.” He says warningly, but his voice is surprisingly tuned with a sense of softness. L’s diversion worked.
“No promises” equally breathy, taking a larger bite from the middle of the cake himself.
Suddenly bile rises to his throat.
“L, Ryuzaki” Light frowns as he chokes. “What's wrong?
He doesn't answer, instead, he spits out the cake from his mouth and back onto his plate. He tries not to throw the rest of his stomach up as well.
“What the hell! That's gross?” He hears Light say, but he's not really listening. Instead he wipes away all the residue of the cake near his lips with his thumb in rapid desperate fashion.
“Were you choking? Wait seriously, what's wrong?”
“Disgusting” L mutters, practically a whisper. But Light hears it. He sees the shaking of his hand where he tries to hide it in his lap.
“It can't be disgusting, you just tried it and said it was amazing a moment ago-
“I told you to get vanilla filling. This is not vanilla.” He says not even looking at the cake anymore. Where the red lining was sneakily hidden in between the layers.
“Wait then what is it?” Light said confused, reaching over the scoop up some of the middle filling.
He chews for a moment before shrugging. “It's just strawberry”
“Strawberry jam” L corrects.
“So? Why are you so pale over it?”
L downs a glass to wash the taste away before replying. “I hate strawberry jam.”
Light looks shocked before he deadpans; “Your joking”
L pushes the plate away. “Dead serious.” His mouth is tainted with cloying ichor sweetness, as horrid as swallowing blood and guts. He reaches over with spindly hands and chugs down a whole glass of water.
“You're that picky you would throw up your food?”
“It was strawberry jam.”
“So? You ordered strawberries”
“Only for the topping. And you're the one who ordered it.”
“Don't blame me, you're the one acting like a baby.”
Though annoying, L is glad light rushed to the assumption that L was a picky eater. He didnt want to explain the real reason of why he hated even the mention of strawberry jam.
Beyond Birthday had a certain appetite for red foods, particularly strawberry jam. Always leaving empty can of it and worst of all-
Its so stupid. His aversion to food. Why did something so minor in the grand scheme of thing that happened nearly eight years ago by a dead man still affect him?
Still he shoves the plate away from him. “I’ll call the waiter and ask for them to remake my order”
Light shoved the plate back in his direction, nose scrunching up in distaste. “No, I’m not paying extra.”
L, maybe a little pettily pushes the plate even farther away from him. “Then I’m not eating.”
“You're unbelievable,” He mutters. “Cut around the edges and just eat that!”
“The jam has infected the rest of the cake.”
Light lets out a long suffering groan. “You always act like a pampered princess Ryuzaki
“If you say so Kira-Chan”
Light grits his teeth, obviously wanting to say he was not Kira nor was it the correct title, but didn’t know where to start. He refrained.
“I regret going out with you” He huffed.
“Going out huh? So this is a date?” L couldn't help but tease.
Light looked embarrassed. “No. But this just further proves that I’m not Kira.” he tries to fruitlessly save the conversation. “And Kira wouldn't suffer through a date with the most annoying of his enemies without killing him.”
L stopped himself from pointing out the fact that Light technically did just suffer a date with him. Without killing him.
“Hm, so if it is a date, you're not Kira. But if it isn't, you are?”
He could practically hear Light audibly sneer in his mind. “That's an unfair assumption to make.”
Their bickering was a relief. It was strangely comforting. How can something so familiar be so abnormal at the same time?
“You said it yourself”
“Your trying to trap me into saying that I’m on a date with you because you know I can't admit I’m Kira” he glared with his entire face. “Your perverted.”
“Perhaps. Are you?” he presses.
Light tries to keep a serious annoyed face. But suddenly, his face relaxes and he laughs. Like chiming bells.
The check comes later. L pays for all of the meal after the Lights card declines.
L thinks he could smile.