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It was stupid, Light thought, that even part-timers had to go on this trip, and someone who’d signed up for barely a week, to add onto that.
Not for the last time, he lamented the fact that he’d chosen to work at a company with such a happy, fun-loving manager, whom he was now really, really tempted to slap in the face.
It should be a crime to be as cheery as that at 5 a.m. in the morning.
“Let’s go, everyone!” Matsuda cheered.
Light sighed.
Trying to avoid any sort of eye contact with his manager (who was deranged, and at this point probably smoking weed in the men’s bathroom), he looked towards the rest of the group of people he barely knew.
They were equally good at avoiding eye contact with Matsuda.
A blonde girl—was her name Misa? Or something akin to that, at least—was hanging on to another girl’s arm, nattering away about god-knows-what. Probably another feminine Matsuda. Another one was glued to his phone, and another female co-worker was refusing to look at anyone but the floor.
Light sighed again and in a rare feat of unselfconsciousness, allowed his eyes to wander around the sparse group of people Matsuda was trying, unsuccessfully, to coerce into being enthusiastic. So far the only one it seemed to be working on was Misa, but that might just be her personality.
There was a weird man on the fringes of a group—presumably the man known as L, who was apparently some sort of genius who was a part-timer, too, or so Misa had told him in hushed whispers. Apparently L had a ‘reputation’, and not a very good one at that.
(“They say he does illegal things, and that’s why he’s so rich. Also, he’s, like, super weird. But he’s smart, so if that’s your cup of tea…” Misa had murmured to him, and Light had laughed.)
He didn’t very much feel like laughing now.
The man was hunched over, hands in his pockets, eyes flitting over everyone as if they were his…test subjects. And rather disturbingly, Light recognised that gaze—
It was one he used himself, after all, and Misa hadn’t been lying when she said L was smart.
…huh.
L turned around at that moment, his gaze meeting Light’s, and his face—dark, shadowed—broke slowly into a smile, like the cracking of a glow stick across a child’s wrist.
Light blinked, and he could feel his mouth falling open slightly (like an idiot, his consciousness berated, but a little too late), but then Matsuda shouted happily, “Time to go, everyone!”, and the unfamiliar emotion snapped back into the comforting territory of annoyance.
—
Matsuda beamed, standing at the head of the bus. “To promote bonding between new members ,” he said meaningfully, shooting a look at Light, and Light smiled and his hand itched to punch someone in the face, “we’ll be doing assigned seating !”
He said this with all the cheeriness of a kindergarten teacher, and the rest responded with the enthusiasm of children who had been woken up at 5 a.m. and told to run a marathon immediately after.
They stared at him. And if Light wasn’t in the situation he would’ve found it funny.
Since when did his life become a reality TV show?
“Aiko, you’re with Charlie. Rem, you’re with…”
“Misa,” Rem—oh, so she was the person whom Misa was clutching on to in a not-so-subtle way of saying back off, this is my territory —raised an eyebrow, shooting back at Matsuda.
“No, you’re with—”
“Misa!” Misa herself chimed in, grinning widely and Light could see Matsuda’s Adam’s apple bob up and down, which made him snort, reflexively turning it into a cough.
“ Fine . Light, you’re with L.”
Light choked on the breath of air he’d just taken in. He hacked out a cough, and raised his watering eyes, only to see L already sliding into the seat next to his, effectively trapping him in the tiny-ass space between the window and L.
Before this Light hadn’t realised just how attractive the world outside that teeny, weeny glass window looked. If he could just break it, a tiny bit…
And, for that matter, throwing the obvious misfit, the office weirdo, the monster that was in the corner of your room during sleep paralysis at 3 a.m., together with the newcomer? Who would’ve seen that coming? Light rolled his eyes, slumping back into his seat.
“Hello, Light-kun,” L said morosely, but then everything Light had heard L say sounded morose, anyways.
“ L ,” Light said, locking gazes with him. He widened his eyes, because he’d read somewhere that if you did that to wild animals (like L) they’d be frightened, and Light was not going to let L The Weirdo intimidate him .
L blinked at him for a little bit, and then nodded to himself, turned away and began rummaging in the bag he’d brought.
Light slumped further down his seat, exhaling.
Oh, well, at least he had the window seat.
It was barely thirty minutes in and Light already wanted to kill somebody.
Oh my god , had L never before heard of the concept of having basic manners? Sure, Light’s classmates weren’t good at those, but even the worst one was leagues ahead of L in that department.
And that was saying something.
First of all, he was eating in a bus and, on top of that, spewing crumbs all over the place, and the smell of the cake was oh-so-sweet and oh my god , Light was tempted to smack it out of his hands and through the window.
Second of all, at some point in the thirty minutes (Light was most pointedly not looking at L), he’d taken off his shoes, and was crouching on the seat, and Light really hoped that he’d at least washed his feet before this, because L was barefoot.
The spectacle was enough to make a grown man cry.
At thirty-one minutes, five seconds and twenty-one milliseconds, Light snapped, “Can you stop it?”
“Stop what?” L blinked innocently back, and Light reminded himself to breathe —the meditation classes obviously hadn’t done shit for him.
“ This .” Light gestured to L, not even sure how to label whatever L was doing—he seemed to be executing animal crackers with his teeth—and stared at L.
L stared back, equally determined and it was lamentable that his stare had an added quality of creepiness to it. “What school is Light-kun from?”
Taken aback by the sudden change in subject, Light blinked ( Light Yagami himself, caught off guard? ) and then he scowled. “Stop trying to change the subject.”
“What is it?” L inquired, tilting his head, and his toes wriggled and Light wanted to explode violently into tears, more out of despair and frustration than anything else.
“To-Oh,” Light said, giving in, because he wasn’t about to start an argument with a weirdo like this .
L nodded to himself, those eyes flickering from Light’s face to his hands and back up again, and for some reason, Light felt— vulnerable .
As if L was undressing him with his eyes alone, except not in a sexy, I-want-to-kiss-you way, but in a clinical, ooh-let’s-see-what-his-brain-looks-like-when-I-lobotomise it way.
“That’s a good school,” L said offhandedly, and Light’s frown deepened.
He shrugged in response. “You?” he asked in return, even though he told himself he wasn’t interested at all, because why would he be , even though L was obviously smarter and obviously different and obviously so much more—well, interesting—than everybody else.
But of course Light Yagami couldn’t care less about a creep like L.
“I never went to school,” L said nonchalantly, and despite himself Light couldn’t help but feel surprised.
“Why?” he asked, voice flat.
L shrugged, in the exact same way Light had, and Light could hear some part of his brain cracking under the strain of trying not to be driven insane by this man.
“What do you do, then?” he asked, aiming for that nonchalant-yet-judgy way typically used by Japanese elders when speaking with someone who was: a. Yakuza, b. Unemployed/not in school, c. Generally weird, or d. All of the above.
L smiled, and Light thought L’s smile was vaguely reminiscent of those you saw on plastic masks like the killer’s in Scream .
“Well, Light, this job. I would’ve thought that was obvious.”
Wow, okay.
Light wanted nothing more than to punch him in the face now, because L was making him feel like a fool , and Light Yagami did not appreciate being made a fool of.
“That’s all you’re doing?” he said in return, aiming to sound faux-surprised yet with a cutting, disarming tone that would absolutely destroy every part of his opponent, tried and tested, with its singular requirement being that the opposite party he was talking to had basic human emotions.
Apparently, L did not have basic human emotions.
“You can think of it that way if you want, Light-kun,” L replied nonchalantly, popping another animal cracker into his mouth, and at this point Light was starting to feel really sorry for the poor animal crackers. Being anywhere near this man, evidently, not a good place to be, especially anywhere inside him.
Light huffed and turned towards the curtain dramatically. L did not seem to appreciate his dramatics, apparently, because even after that the chewing sounds continued.
Misa turned around in her seat and shot him a happy glance. Light glared at her.
Little Demon: how’s the trip going? (*^^*)
Me: Terribly .
Me: I’m sitting next to this guy who won’t stop eating, and also he is barefoot.
Little Demon: are his feet pretty
Me: That’s BESIDES THE POINT.
Little Demon: that’s a yes
Me: Why do I even talk to you.
Little Demon: because you love me
Little Demon: now suffer. (^-^)/
Light was woken up, not-so-ceremoniously, by the sound of Matsuda’s buzzer blasting in his ears.
“Wake up, everyone! It’s time to wake up…” Matsuda sing-songed, standing up from his seat, waving his arms and consequently almost losing his balance in the process.
His screech into the microphone was very, very loud. Light resisted the urge to scream back like two weird birds locked in some kind of bizarre mating routine.
He turned his head to the side and L was staring at him, eyes big and black and like some sort of bug’s.
Light yelped. “What the fuck is wrong with you?”
“I was looking at Light-kun while he was asleep.”
“That’s not any fucking better !”
“Does it not provide a reason as to ‘what the fuck is wrong with me,’ exactly?” L raised an eyebrow, and Light felt distinctly as if he were being played.
It was not a good feeling.
Light briefly considered the fact that other people he talked to might have felt this way, before deciding that they probably weren’t smart enough to figure out they were being made fun of at all.
“What’s the time now,” he said, trying to change the subject, but L’s smirk told him that nope, it’s not going to work on me, and Light wanted to slap that smirk off his face, because oh my god what a self-satisfied confident asshole.
Hypocrisy was evidently not a word existing in Light Yagami’s dictionary.
“It’s 7 p.m. Light-kun slept for a long time,” L said.
“Where are we?”
L shrugged.
“We’ll be staying here and going off to the foot of Mount Fuji tomorrow!” Matsuda’s voice chirped.
Light sighed.
It was run-down—but honestly, what else did he expect?
Sunshine Hotel , the sign read. The letters looked like it was in danger of falling off, the paint was peeling, and Light thought that this was the best definition of irony he’d ever seen.
“Everyone off,” Matsuda shouted, somehow still enthusiastic, and Light reluctantly got off behind L (oh, Jesus Christ, the man had terrible posture), rubbing the sleep from his eyes as he went.
Matsuda was busy speaking to the receptionist as the rest went in, looking like kids on a field trip they were forced to attend, which wasn’t entirely inaccurate.
The air conditioner was in terrible condition. The floor was scuffed and dirty. The receptionist’s smile was nonexistent.
In short, Light wanted out of this place, and as quickly as possible.
Matsuda handed him a key. “You’re with L.”
Light stared at the key.
Then his brain caught up with what was going on.
“You’re putting me with— him ?”
Light ended up with L in the end, because of course the universe hated him.
He threw his suitcase on the bigger bed, pointedly ignoring L, but apparently L couldn’t take the hint (up until now he had been very bad at taking them, so unfortunately that was not surprising).
“Light-kun looks upset to be here.”
“Am I upset to be put with someone who doesn’t know basic manners and likes his feet bare? Yes, I am,” Light said drily, aggressively throwing everything out of his bag and starting to fold them again, one by one by one.
L tilted his head, his matted hair falling into his eyes. “Ah, I see.”
An awkward silence ensued, which was enough time for Light to regret his life choices, this whole trip and being the new intern, not necessarily in that exact order.
“I’m going to shower, then,” L said easily, and oh my god, Light still had to share a bathroom with him?
Forty-five minutes. It had been forty-five minutes, twenty-one seconds, and fifty-one milliseconds.
And L was still in the fucking bathroom.
Maybe, Light thought hopefully, he’d died in there, but also that meant he would have to clean up the body which would ruin his perfectly nice wardrobe.
“L?” He banged on the bathroom door as loud as he could. “Are you dead? Oh, great, you are dead, let me just throw all your stuff out of the—”
“I’m not dead, Light-kun,” L said monotonously, making it hard to believe.
“Then what exactly is taking you so long?” And at this point Light was sure L was staying in there basically out of pure spite and nothing else.
“Believe it or not, there are people other than you who have a 15-step beauty routine, Light-kun,” L said dryly and Light couldn’t tell whether he was joking or not.
“It’s 20 steps, L, do you really think so lowly of me,” he said, trying to kick the door open.
“Light-kun, at this rate, the hotel is going to sue you for damages,” and unfortunately L did not sound like he was remotely joking when he said that.
“Then get out of the bathroom because believe it or not , people other than you need to use it too, and if you don’t get out in another five minutes I will personally hunt down your address and find you and your bathroom when we get back.”
There was silence. Then L’s voice piped up: “Does Light-kun usually treat everyone like this the first time he meets them? That’s very—”
“No, I don’t,” Light said shortly, and then tried to wrench the doorknob open.
When Light finally crawled into bed at midnight, an hour behind his usual schedule (oh, god, he hated when things were behind his usual schedule), he was royally pissed the fuck off .
First of all, he had a fucking fifteen minute shower before L banged on the bathroom door to ask him for the hairdryer. And then banged on the bathroom door again to ask when he could come in to brush his teeth and if Light was naked, both questions Light dearly wanted to say no to but clearly could not.
Second of all, L was terrible at keeping his belongings all to himself. Not in the nice, traditional way of oh, I’ll share this with you , but oh, I’ll dump my mess all on your side , which was exactly what he did and now L’s shirts were scattered on the floor around Light’s bed, vaguely resembling some sort of demon exorcism ritual, except with shirts instead of candles.
And the last reason of all, Light could not fucking sleep.
He flipped to the side. Sleep refused to come. He shoved his face into the pillow. Sleep did not come. He screamed into his pillow.
Sleep still did not come, but L’s voice unfortunately did.
“Light-kun, are you being assaulted?”
“ No ,” he squeezed out, seething.
“Then why are you screaming?”
“I. Can’t. Sleep,” he ground out from between his teeth, throwing himself upright violently like some scene out of a horror movie.
The light flicked on and then L’s face was there, black eyes blinking in the sudden brightness, and Light winced as it seared into his eyes.
“Light-kun is like a child,” L observed calmly.
Light rolled his eyes, exhaustion lacing his every movement in the form of carelessness.
“I'm not a child. It’s not childish to want to sleep, okay?”
L was silent for a while, and Light thought that he really did love his dramatic silences.
“Light-kun is a very interesting character,” he mused.
Yeah, because what the fuck did that mean?
Light nodded sagely, and pretended like he knew what was going on, and he realised that he was surprisingly good at that.
L nodded sagely back, and Light decided something had to be said before it devolved into two people nodding sagely at each other.
“You’re a very… interesting character, too,” Light said, and if L was so smart he could probably figure out for himself what that meant.
L snorted, and somewhere in Light’s brain it registered that it was the first he’d heard L laugh.
Maybe it was the sleep deprivation, but L’s laugh actually…didn’t sound like something out of a demon’s mouth. Which was surprising.
“I actually meant that it’s interesting how you’re so wonderful at hiding ,” L said, his voice sharp but not exactly unkind.
Light paused.
And then he laughed.
“You’ve only known me for barely a day, L. Why on earth would you say that?”
“I’ve seen you around,” L groused. “You’re always annoyingly put-together and well-mannered.”
Light raised an eyebrow. “And you’ve got a problem with that? At least I don’t act like you do.”
L raised an eyebrow back. “Oh, but Light-kun, at least I am honest.”
Light snorted.
Because of course L was wrong. Because of course he actually wanted to sit there and talk with people whom he barely knew. Because of course he wanted to get good grades and go to a good university and get into a company that everyone thought of as respectable and befitting someone like Light Yagami. Because of course he wanted to be normal, yet not normal in all the best ways.
Because of course he wanted this.
And that was why he was here, wasn’t it? Another part-time job to add on his flawless resume, another line to check off his list of Things To Do .
“I want this, L,” Light said, and he wasn’t really sure if he was talking about being good-mannered, or doing this part-time job, or being on this road trip, or something else but L’s smile told him he knew what Light wanted.
Light did not very much like that smile.
“ Do you?” L leaned back, pulling his legs up to his chest, rocking back and forth on the bed.
“I’ve heard a lot of things about you, Light Yagami. The people here have a lot to say about you, do you know that?”
“Good things, I hope,” Light said, joking out of habit.
L tilted his head. “Surprisingly, yes. Usually there’s something bad about everyone, something other people complain about, but with you…there’s nothing.
“It’s always: oh, Yagami’s so helpful. Light’s so smart, did you know he solved this issue? If only I could get him to join the team full-time…
“I’ve never heard anything bad about you, Light Yagami.”
L smirked.
“That’s why I was interested in you.”
Light choked.
“...so what if there’s nothing bad about me? You’re reading too much into this, L. Maybe it’s the lack of sleep,” he said, in a tone that would surely convince anyone else.
And somewhere Light’s heart was beating, fast and slow and fast all at once, because, because what was this feeling, this feeling like he had been ripped right open and read, read like a book or a piece of music or like a regular person for the first time in his life, ever—
And somehow it was terrifying. And somehow it was exhilarating.
And somehow Light knew somewhere, somehow, he’d killed L for it.
Instead of crying or laughing or going over to the other bed and clinging onto L, as if he was the only person Light could ever really care about ( you can only ever love someone who’s the same as you, right, Yagami?) Light simply gave the barest little nothing of a smile.
L looked like he was about to say something, and then turned his gaze away.
Light stared at his hands and was mildly surprised to see that they were trembling.
“Go to sleep, Light-kun. Or you’ll be tired in the morning,” and maybe in another world they had been in the same room, too.
Light lay down, rolled over and L shut off the lights.
Light dreamt of words.
Of lines across a page, of a pen scribbling and people tripping and falling (dying? No, that couldn’t be, Light wasn’t a murderer) and L’s voice, playing over and over and over again and it was neither a nightmare, but nor was it a good dream.
In it he felt different. In it he looked at L and he did not see the L that he knew was the real one, but anyways who were you, really, because sometimes all you had to do was to be given a knife, a gun, a weapon and that would twist you until you were no longer
you , but that might’ve been the you all along so Light thought in the dream there was no way to know for sure, and then
L woke him up.
Light was sure he’d been screaming ( like he was being assaulted , a little voice echoed in his head and Light told it not-so-considerately to shut the fuck up ) but L did not say anything about it.
Instead he looked at Light with those eyes and said, quietly, “It’s time to go, Light-kun,” and only then did Light know he was no longer in that dream.
Matsuda was fucking cheery, as usual, and Light was Not In The Mood because he was so fucking tired and he wanted to smash someone’s face in, preferably L’s or Matsuda’s, and then keep on smashing until they died a bloody, gory death.
He smooshed his face against the cold glass, for once not caring if it was dirty or not, because it was the only way he could avoid glaring at everyone in the bus.
“Light-kun,” L said as the bus pulled off and thank god , that meant probably no-one except L was going to talk to him. “Light-kun.”
Light sighed.
“Light-kun. Are you dead?”
“Yes, I am,” Light muttered.
“I don’t think dead people can respond.”
Light snapped his head up, glaring furiously at L, and if looks could kill, L would’ve been spontaneously combusted. Unfortunately, Light did not have that ability. Probably for the better, as if he did half of the world’s population would be dead by now.
“What do you want .”
“What’s your favourite colour?” L asked, and Light just knew he was smiling without needing to look, he just knew it, and some part of him really really really wanted to smash open the window, and without any hesitation or remorse, throw L out of it.
“If I tell you, I don't suppose you’ll say that it's a reflection of how I'm actually a psychopath and a serial killer in disguise?” Light scoffed, leaning back in his chair.
“Well, you do have a point…” L trailed off.
“I hate you.”
“I’m guessing you like red?”
Light looked at L in silence. Unfortunately L still did not spontaneously combust.
“That’s a yes,” L continued, and before this moment Light did not know it was possible for a face to look this smug.
“Go fuck yourself.”
“Not so loud, Light-kun. We can’t have… anyone else hearing that, can we?” L raised an eyebrow, still looking unbelievably smug and now Light more than ever wanted to stick a rod up that smug ass.
“I don’t like you,” Light grumbled.
“You liking red says that you’re secretly a mass murderer who’s keeping at least eighteen bodies in your basement right now, and also you’re probably an undiagnosed psychopath and sociopath who, when he was young, liked to set things on fire, torture little animals, and constantly wet the bed.”
Light stared at him.
L smiled back.
It took Light several seconds before he realised that L was joking.
He glared at L. “Not funny.”
“Your reaction tells me that you’re actually a mass murderer who’s keeping at least eighteen bodies—”
“Okay, I get it,” Light interrupted, and the most insane thing was he felt the urge to smile, at the inane stupidity of it all, and for the first time he couldn’t convince himself that he didn’t like this.
For the first time he didn’t want to leave.
L looked satisfied, and normally it would’ve pissed Light off but today Light’s mood had been fixed, and would probably remain fixed for a while.
“Does Light-kun want one?”
Somehow, somewhere, L had dug out some atrocious, terrible excuse of food that was basically pure sugar and diabetes, and was holding it out to Light.
“That thing will send you into the hospital in a few years, if it hasn’t already,” Light shot back.
“It’s a hundred percent dark chocolate, Light-kun,” L said, as if that was actually explaining anything.
“No thanks,” Light said, because he did not very much like the idea of getting diabetes in a year and going to the same hospital as L.
L tilted his head. “It isn’t that sweet. And didn’t Light-kun miss breakfast? This will bring his blood sugar up.”
Okay. Light admitted to himself that that was rather considerate of L.
“Fine,” he said, plucking the chocolate out of L’s hands and tearing open the wrapper.
“Way to defeat anemia,” L said.
“You’re really not as funny as you think you are,” Light lied. Maybe his standards of humor were becoming lower after meeting Matsuda (think dad humor) and Rem (who had no humor).
L laughed.
Light looked down at the floor and chewed his chocolate to hide the grin that was threatening to spread across his face.
Traitorous little fuckers, his features were.
The bus ride was rather annoyingly long, just as yesterday, and Light slept throughout the whole journey and even when Matsuda yelled for them to get off the car , he didn’t feel so cranky anymore. He even smiled at L.
Smiling ? At L ? Yes, Light Yagami was indeed a saint. Nevermind the fact that L looked at him as if he was an insane person, because Light was no longer sleep-deprived and his nerves were no longer telling him to kill himself , so all was fine and dandy.
Until he stepped off the bus.
Sure, Light felt fine.
For the first 0.05 seconds.
Then the cold hit him like a truck and immediately he wanted to cry.
What the fucking hell, it was so fucking cold , what the fuck was this, why the fuck was L standing there so fucking unbothered and Light wanted to slap that fucking smug ass fucking smile off that fucking face but when he opened his mouth a wind blew past and he wanted to cry again.
What the fuck was this jacket. On the packaging it had said it was Very Effective in keeping users warm, but whatever this was, it was not Very Effective in keeping Light warm.
“ Fuck ,” he hissed, stuffing his hands into his pockets. “Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck .”
“Light-kun?” L tilted his head and Light could barely keep his eyes open against the stinging cold , and it was so so fucking cold , and why the fuck was it so cold he was Japanese there was winter he should’ve been impervious to it by now except Nature was obviously not fair.
“Fuck you,” he said, because Light had read somewhere in a study that cursing helped to increase pain tolerance.
It did not.
L snorted. “Very nice language, Light-kun, but save it for when we’ve caught up with them.”
“Where the fuck are they,” he said.
L gestured. “Already up ahead.”
Light squinted. Misa was up there, definitely, somehow still wearing her fucking black dress that was knee-height and very, very happy about it and apparently also not cold at all. Rem was apparently also very happy with the cold, wearing—what the fuck —shorts, and even fucking Matsuda looked way too happy to be here.
“I hate you,” he said.
“I know,” L said lightly. “If Light-kun isn’t feeling well, we can go back to the bus.”
There was no fucking way was Light going to go back to the bus and admit defeat.
“No. I’m fine.” He stomped ahead, leaving L behind, except the bastard had to be good at catching up with him, too.
A small consolation were the food stalls along the way, but honestly Light was never ever going to come back here again.
Not even for the food, which he had to admit wasn’t bad, though a little expensive but that was to be expected in a tourist trap like this. The candied fruits were sweet, but not too sweet, and L had to ask them to put extra sugar on it. He got a Look for that, but also his extra sugar, and honestly at this point Light was just focusing on random inane details because it was so cold it was either do that or freeze to death, but at this rate it was probably going to be both.
He shoved the candy-apple thing in his mouth and chewed as hard as he could.
“Light-kun looks to be very angry at the candy-apple,” L observed. “What did it do to him?”
“Shut up,” Light mumbled around the enormous chunk he’d shoved in his mouth and probably he was going to die of choking on food, too. What a way to go.
L nodded sagely. “Light-kun is cranky, I see…it’s okay, you can try looking at the view.”
Light looked at the view.
Mount Fuji looked like a mountain.
“It looks like a fucking mountain,” he stated, wanting very much to punch L in the face.
“But it's a nice mountain,” L protested. “Look, the others are all taking pictures with it.”
Light peered. Yes, they were, and he thought that this mountain was undeserved of being loved by the masses because it was so fucking cold. They should love him instead, because he wasn’t cold and he was nicer than a fucking mountain and if he were to run for president in an election and the mountain was his opponent, he should win.
This was Not Fair.
“It’s a fucking horrible mountain, that’s what it is,” Light grumbled, angrily shoving the empty cup back at the store owner whom L offered an apologetic smile to, and what the fuck why were their roles suddenly reversed this whole thing was going to fucking shit .
“If Light-kun’s cold, does he need another jacket?”
“ No ,” Light hissed, because he was tall and he was strong and he could do this.
Also, but on a very much lesser note, L probably hadn’t brought another jacket and so he’d probably be cold. But that was just because Light wasn’t that much of an inconsiderate asshole, not out of any actual care for the guy himself.
L shrugged, a faint smile playing across his lips. “Whatever you say. Shall we join them in taking photos, then?”
“Didn’t peg you as a person who particularly enjoyed taking photos.”
“Well, I suppose you’d be surprised, Light-kun,” and Light scowled at the obvious jab at his intellect.
“Let’s go,” Light grumbled, trudging towards where the others were. There were a shitload of tourists, and that definitely didn’t do anything to improve his mood.
A cold wind blew past, and he shivered involuntarily, and then, rather embarrassingly, he sneezed.
Light stared sadly at the floor. So this is what he’d become: someone who spends his time with a weirdo, and who sneezes at the slightest hint of cold.
It was indeed rather depressing.
L came up from beside him.
“Not the time, L,” he sighed, still staring sadly at the floor.
L threw something onto his head.
It was soft, and it was really nice to the touch, and Light pulled it off his head and turned his stare onto it instead.
It was a jacket. Thankfully, it happened to be white, which was Light’s colour.
“I have two,” L stated monotonously.
Light pulled it on, and for a moment he hesitated.
Then the moment passed just as quickly, and Light mumbled a hasty thank-you , and, stuffing his hands into L’s jacket, trudged his way to where the others were ogling, rather stupidly, at the mountain.
“Light! You’re finally here!” Misa cheered happily, somehow still not dead from frostbite in her dress that was barely a dress. Ah, Light would never understand her, probably.
He smiled vaguely in response, and it was really, really nice to not be feeling so cold anymore. In fact, it was so nice he might even be civil to L from now on.
L tapped him on the shoulder.
Light spun around, scowling. “ What ?”
“Would Light-kun be averse to acting tourist-y for five seconds and taking a photo?” L raised his eyebrow, and Light almost laughed (like an idiot, which he was not ) and then he caught himself.
“Sure,” he said, trying to act nonchalant and then snatching L’s phone from his hands and nearly dropping it on the ground in the process.
L, mercifully, did not laugh.
“Actually, I’d like to take a photo of Light-kun.”
The request was very unexpected and so Light nearly dropped L’s phone a second time before shoving it back at the latter as if it was some kind of hot potato.
“That’s very weird of you, L,” he stated.
“I am weird, Light-kun. Now go and stand in front of the mountain and pose.”
Light sighed.
If it was any other person: maybe Misa, Rem, or Matsuda—he would’ve declined.
But it was L .
(And later he would discover that he did a lot of things for L because he was L, and for no other particular reason than that.
Which wasn’t very characteristic of Light but he supposed that L’s most defining characteristic was to do things that forced Light to become uncharacteristic.)
So Light sighed again and trudged closer to the mountain.
L held up his phone. “Smile, Light-kun.”
Light stared into the camera and very much did not smile. L took the photo anyway, because he was nothing if not in considerate.
“Here, Light-kun.”
It was probably going to be blurry, or of bad quality, or just a picture of the mountain instead of Light because if anyone would pull that kind of stupid prank on Light, it would be either L or his sister.
Light peered at the phone skeptically.
Okay, it wasn’t that bad.
He was silhouetted against the light in a very nice way. And it was the kind of photos that, in Light’s opinion, were the best kind, because they made you look like you were someone else.
And L made Light look like he was a good person.
“Not bad,” he said shortly, and turned away because it was a little painful to look at.
“Let’s go back now!” Matsuda called, and Light glanced at L and he thought privately that L was getting a little harder to look at, too.
As was customary in every business trip in the history of the earth, they had to have a company dinner.
Because apparently looking at your coworkers for the entire day still wasn’t enough, or at least according to Matsuda.
But the food was free. So Light was going to make sure he stuffed everything down his throat, and also maybe take away some food for later, too, because Matsuda was paying and Light was nothing if not petty.
It wasn’t an expensive restaurant, which was rather depressing because Light couldn’t watch the look on Matsuda’s face slowly get more and more terrified as the number of dishes served on the table increased (yay for direct relationships in Math!) but it wasn’t that cheap a restaurant, either.
When it came around to his turn, Light ordered five appetisers, five side dishes, and one of the most expensive drinks on the menu (it was lemon soda with lime and something else, or something like that), trying very hard not to smirk all the while, and when it came to L, he ordered practically the entire dessert menu, and oh my god , the trip was so worth it for this one moment.
God, he was an asshole, wasn’t he?
But if he was L was one, too, so really when it came down to things Light was clearly justified in this. If anything, Matsuda should learn to be less cheery and also never offer to pay for any company meals every again.
Yup, it was all for Matsuda’s own good.
After the server had left the table, L leaned over to Light and whispered, “Look at Matsuda’s face.”
Light looked, and immediately snorted.
“We’re assholes,” he said.
“Being assholes is a lot more fun than being nice people, though,” L said, swirling his water absentmindedly around in his glass.
“I’m sure,” Light hummed, and stared blankly at the table.
“It’s boring, isn’t it?” L whispered, and if it was anyone else Light would’ve given one of his Smiles and said no, you’re very interesting, this is exactly the place where I want to be right now!
But it was L.
“Fuck yeah,” Light muttered, and if this small talk (from what he’d overheard, it was just Matsuda awkwardly trying to strike up a conversation with the newer employees) was going to continue any longer, Light was going to flip the table over, or put his head down and burst into hysterical tears at the stupidity of man.
“So you’re busting out the swear words at a dinner table? Scandalous, Light-kun. What’s next? Not finishing all your veggies?”
Light rolled his eyes. “You really need to know when to shut up. And I’m a good kid, of course I finish all my veggies. Unlike you .”
“I’m bored.”
“I'm bored too.”
Matsuda was still trying to strike up a conversation with the poor victims he’d chosen, and it was rather impressive how he was still failing at it.
“Let’s go for a walk,” Light decided, standing up and walking out of the place. It wasn’t as if anyone could really stop him, because Matsuda was a terrible in-charge, and the dinner was also going equally terribly and he didn’t particularly like the idea of witnessing its entire crash-and-burn sequence.
He heard footsteps behind him, and despite everything, Light marvelled that L would choose to follow.
It was dark outside, the kind of dark that made normally annoying lights glow beautifully and made everything seem much too wonderful to be real.
It was almost nice, and Light thought this wasn't such a bad world to live in.
The dark made L’s face seem surprisingly nice, too, and if Light didn’t know the man perhaps he would’ve even described him as ethereal.
Unfortunately L had the sad tendency to open his mouth and talk.
“It’s very escapist of you, Yagami-kun. Running away from all your problems, which are basically people…how antisocial of you, too,” L said, smirking, and if every psychiatrist was like L, all of their patients would have committed suicide a long, long time ago.
“How can I get you to shut up ? Dear God.” Light raised his eyes to the sky, but there was no answer, and he was pretty sure God did not exist.
L smiled. “I'm assuming you aren’t much of a small talker?”
Light scoffed. “Of course not. I'm good at it, obviously,” —he raised an eyebrow at L, who inclined his head, and Light smirked— “but it’s just so… boring . Don’t you find it boring, L?”
“Oh, it is terrible. Unfortunately most people are avid partakers of small talk.”
“And that’s why you aren’t popular with ‘most people’.”
“Sometimes, I do think you’re too smart for your own good, Light-kun. One of these days it’s going to come back to bite you in the—oh, ice cream!”
Light watched as L, excited as a five-year-old child (oh, god, Light despised children, those stinky little gremlins who ran all around the place and sweated through their shirt), ran over to the stall, his hair flopping all over the place.
L turned around, and beckoned, and if it was Matsuda Light would’ve walked in the other direction.
But it was L. And L wasn’t like this to anyone else. And some part of Light thought that he should keep this very fleeting happiness of L’s, because if he were to disappoint he didn’t think he could ever really forgive himself—and look ! He wasn’t that much of an asshole after all!
So he sighed, and jogged after L.
“What flavour does Light-kun want?” L was ogling the ice creams, bright under the glass cover, as if they were his girlfriend, or something. Hold on, did L have a girlfriend? Probably not, there was no way a recluse like him could have a girlfriend, unless the girl in question happened to be an idiot.
“Ice cream before dinner’s going to ruin our appetites,” he said instead.
“Live a little, Light-kun. I'll pay.” L raised an eyebrow, the despite what happened to poor Matsuda remaining unspoken.
Light snorted. “A scoop of vanilla, then.”
“What part of ‘live a little’ did you not hear?”
Light shrugged. L sighed, mock-disappointed, before saying, “One of these days, I'll teach you to have superior ice cream taste, Light-kun.”
True to his word, L did pay for his ice cream (which came to 110 yen) and also paid for his own ice cream—if you could even call it that, because it was just a bunch of multicolored scoops squashed into each other (which came to 990 yen).
The ice cream was cold, and sweet. Light looked at the sky and realised that he didn’t really want to return to the restaurant, with small talk and stifling air and people. It would be nice, he thought, if he could stay walking under this sky forever.
Then he caught himself, because that line of thought sounded dangerously depressing, and also emo, and Light was a lot of things, but he wasn’t depressed . Or emo.
“What’s Light-kun thinking about?” L said through a mouthful of ice cream.
Light shot him a disdainful look, or at least as disdainful as he could manage it to be. “You’ll get a brain freeze like that.”
L licked his spoon. “A price worth paying for ice cream. Anyways, Light-kun did not answer my question.”
“There’s not much to answer.”
L pointed his wooden spoon at Light as if he was accusing him of something in court. “Out with it, Yagami-san.”
Light sighed. “Don’t you think it’s boring, anyway, L?”
“What is?”
“All of this . The mundanity of life. The way we’re expected to complete routines, again and again and again, like a Sisyphean task that never, ever ends until, guess what, we die .”
L tilted his head, slotting another bite of ice cream into his mouth. “And what, exactly, is ‘expected’ of Light-kun, huh?”
“Well, currently…” Light spooned a bite of ice cream into his mouth, buying himself a little time to think, and also calm down. “I suppose, it’s to get good grades in school, then graduate as valedictorian. Then after that, get a good job as a lawyer or a police officer or anything to do with something prestigious and on a straight-and-narrow path. Get promoted quickly due to my above-average intellect, then eventually get to the top.
“Maybe half-way through this process, I'll get married to someone I don’t completely resent, who has power and money, and then after that buy a house with them and get a dog and have a child. Then when I get too old to work anymore, I’ll be discarded like an old workhorse. It’ll be a kind, friendly disposal, but it will be a disposal all the same. And then I’ll retire, with my partner and child and dog, and then I will pretend to be happy until the day that I die.”
A plane whirred by in the sky at that moment, its silhouette barely visible against the clouds. It was funnily dramatic, but pretty all the same so it didn’t really matter to Light.
Light laughed a little. “You don’t have to say anything to that, L. It isn’t something you can really reply to, I know.” He shrugged, and if nonchalance was a person it would be Light in that moment. Because anything else would just be weird, and awkward, and Light was anything but weird and awkward.
He hazarded a glance at L.
L swallowed his ice cream, and then looked at Light and offered a little smile, and he raised his hand and threaded it through Light’s fingers gently.
And maybe it was because it was night time, and there were people in love all around them (in Tokyo, you couldn’t walk far without spying two teens holding hands, which Light was frequently pissed about), or maybe it was because he was feeling uncharacteristically nostalgic, or maybe because it was because L’s hand was surprisingly soft, and warm, but Light did not shake his hand off.
In fact, he might’ve even curled his hand a little tighter around the other’s.
“Well, I know it sounds like a stock phrase, but I do understand,” L said, and honestly? Light had no doubt he did. L was in a similar situation, after all; just that he could afford to be less repressed about it than Light. “Not that I’ve been in the same situation as Light-kun before, but…if I were, well. I have no doubt I would feel the same.”
L offered a half-shrug, clearly meant to be sympathetic, and Light cracked a smile at how awkward, how stupid he could be.
It was kind of cute, in a way. In another way it just reminded Light of Matsuda, but considerably less stupid.
“If it’s any consolation,” L said slowly, “I’m stuck with Light-kun in the same part-time job, so.”
“That’s really a pity,” Light said, looking at L.
And he thought it really was a pity. That he would inevitably forget about L one day. That he would unavoidably leave his part-time job for a newer one, plunge back into the monotone stream that was society’s norms. That he would never see L again after that, and L would never see him, too, and after twenty, thirty, maybe even forty years later all that would remain would be a vague impression of a person whose intelligence, whose flaws coruscated off Light in dazzling, blinding glimpses, and he, weary, exhausted in the way only grown-ups could be, would be grabbing at the intangible flecks of L-light that danced away.
Perhaps Light Yagami would even learn how to love another person. Perhaps he would find someone he didn’t hate too much, learn how they liked their coffee and their favourite colour and the way they liked to go for long walks on weekends, but the person would never be L.
Perhaps, then, Light Yagami would wake up in his bed, next to this person he had learned to love, and L would be etched into his eyes, and he would almost say his name, and then he would remember.
And then the person would say, Light-kun, are you okay? No, not Light-kun. They would say, Raito, are you okay?
And Light would nod his head, and say yes, and lie a thousand times, a million times, lie all the way into his grave.
“Light-kun, are you okay?” L said, waving a lazy hand in front of Light’s face. “You’ve been staring at my face for a solid fifty-eight seconds and counting.”
“Was not,” Light said.
“Light-kun loves me, huh?” L smirked.
“Don’t flatter yourself.”
Light threw his empty ice cream cup into a nearby bin. It made a very loud, final clatter.
“Nice touch, Light-kun.”
“Shut up.”
In his dream that night L was dying.
Even in the back of his mind, Light noted what a cliché dream it was—of course there would be dying involved in every single nightmare. You’d think Light Yagami’s nightmares would be more interesting, but of course not. Ugh.
Light had his hands around L’s throat. It was softer than he’d expected, considering how much of a skeleton he was. He was looking down at L, in a sort of half-embrace.
For some reason, there was a pen, digging into his own throat. Even then, Light thought it was certainly a very funny stalemate—shouldn’t L be the one killing him?
But no.
L was looking up at him, pliant as a dead body, eyes as innocent as a newborn sheep’s. The look of one that didn’t know any better.
Light wanted to throw up.
He clenched his hands tighter around L’s neck. The pen dug harder into the hollow of his throat.
Light twisted, wrenched , and there was a loud snap , an ancient tree as it crashed to the ground and
And—
He woke up screaming. Again.
And then Light screeched a second time, because L’s face was right in front of his.
“ What the fuck are you doing, L?”
“Light-kun was acting very funny in his sleep.”
Light narrowed his eyes. “Why the fuck were you looking at me in the first place?”
“You were whimpering, and tossing and turning around,” L noted dryly. “I'm a light sleeper.”
Light blinked. If it was daytime and they were in a noisy café, Light would’ve laughed, made some stupid-smart remark that L would rebuke with one of his own, and the moment would pass.
But it was dark outside the closed curtains, and it was quiet , and Light could hear his own heart beating.
So he nodded. “Well, too bad you’re stuck with me as a roommate.” He said this harsher than he’d intended, and L blinked at him, which only made Light remember his dead-fish eyes in the dream, which in turn made him turn away.
“Does Light-kun usually have nightmares?”
“Nope, not really. This is the first time I’ve had them twice in a row.”
L scooted closer to him, or as close as the distance between their beds would allow. “That’s interesting…perhaps being in a foreign environment has contributed to this situation.”
No, Light thought, it’s you.
(If he had lived another life, he would’ve thought:
It will always be you.
But in all of the lives across all of the universes, if they even existed at all, they would have one common point:
Light Yagami had never once uttered that truth.)
“What are Light-kun’s dreams about?”
Light scoffed. “Like I’d ever tell you that.”
L tilted his head, probably thinking—Light never knew what was going on inside his head, and would probably never know, and that thought was infuriating yet depressing. Light had never been infuriated and depressed before, but then L was always introducing new emotions into his originally simple emotional lexicon.
Which kind of sucked.
And didn’t at the same time.
And as Light was thinking about this, L said, “Let’s make a deal, Light-kun.”
“What kind of deal?”
L smirked. “For every piece of information you give me, I'll tell you something about myself in exchange. Deal?”
Well, fucking finally .
“Deal,” Light said, before his brain could start to think properly, because maybe when he was around L he didn’t really want to think anymore.
Not like that, at least. Not calculating, not cold, and Light did not really like where his feelings were going with L because Light Yagami was nothing but calculating, and cold, and therefore safe .
Around L, Light was not safe , not in that way, and it was just-slightly-a-little-bit terrifying.
“Great. So what was your nightmare about?”
Light snorted at the shit-eating grin on L’s face. Of course; he should’ve expected nothing less.
“You,” he said, truthfully.
L tilted his head. “Am I that scary to you, Light-kun?”
“Of course not. And I’m counting that as one question, together.”
“You did not give me a complete answer, Light-kun. So it doesn’t count.”
Of course it didn’t.
“Then what kind of answer do you want?” Light said, frustrated.
“What do you dream about?”
He couldn’t bear to look at L. “You dying.”
And then, quickly, before L could say anything else, Light said, “Okay, next question. What dreams do you have?”
“How does Light-kun know I have these sort of…dreams?” L raised an eyebrow.
“You’re the kind of person who would,” Light said, and he couldn’t stop a slight hint of smugness from colouring his tone. “I'm not wrong, am I?”
L was silent for a while.
Then: “I suppose you could say I dream about death, too.
“But mine is of a more…typical quality than Light-kun’s.” L laughed humorlessly, and in that moment Light caught a glimpse of a man who must’ve been cruel, crueler than his—no, this L could ever be, and it scared him.
“In it, I dream that I’m dying. And for some reason, the murder weapon is a pen digging into my throat.” L shrugged, a vague smile playing about his lips.
Light could barely speak.
“...did you ever see the face of your murderer?”
L appraised Light, and for some unknown reason he felt as if this was a test. He wouldn’t be surprised if all this time L had been playing with him, or if this had all been a hallucination and he was actually dreaming in his boring bed in his boring life back home, because surely someone like L, someone who knew him so terrifyingly intimately though Light barely knew him in return, could never exist. The simplicity of Occam’s Razor dictated the laws of the universe be so, and Light thought that the universe was always-never-not cruel towards anything that was different.
“...no, Light-kun.”
Light nodded.
“My turn now!” L said, the exclamation point in his voice disturbingly evident. “Are you happy?”
Light’s first instinct was to laugh. And that he did, and when he was going to stop he looked at L’s face and his expression was so funny that he broke into laughter again, until he was gasping like a fish out of water, perhaps even bordering on some kind of morbid, insane hystericality.
“What kind of question is that?” he said. “Of course I am.”
Because the prospect of Unhappiness—a term that the general public in Japan shied away from, a term that was terrifying in its mundanity and broadness— of course wouldn’t apply to someone like Light Yagami.
(The terms of Unhappiness were simple yet complicated to fulfill, and even if he wanted to, Light had no right to put his pen to that intangible paper.)
L looked at him, and then nodded slowly in a way that either meant yes, I see where you’re coming from and you make sense to me, or you’re fucking crazy and simply deluding yourself .
Light’s face was aching from his smile.
So he dropped it.
(It frightened him.)
“Next question,” he said jovially. “What’s your Social Security number?”
L tilted his head, his gaze questioning in such a way that Light couldn't bear to look at it.
“Now, Light-kun, you know that I can’t tell you that…”
“Great…so that means I can go to sleep now,” Light said, scooting down under the covers.
L looked at him, and Light closed his eyes. Behind the rosy-pink back of his eyelids, he could hear L say, with a gentleness that made Light glad he hadn’t opened his eyes, “If you wanted to go to sleep, you could’ve just said it, Light-kun.”
Light closed his eyes and pretended he didn’t hear, and half a moment later he could feel the lights shutting off.
( Are you happy, Light-kun?
Are you? )
Uncharacteristically, Light woke up late. Again.
This trip was making him and his carefully constructed systems shift and change and he didn’t like it, not at all.
(But he hadn’t hated it as much as he thought he would, and Light suspected it was because of L’s presence, which made him resent L even more.)
This time, thankfully, L wasn’t staring at him anymore.
Light propped himself up by his arm. “What’re you doing?”
L held up another pack of his sweets—this one read Refreshing Taste! Melts in Your Mouth! — and shook it. “I’m eating. Would Light-kun care for one?”
“Sweets so early in the morning are going to ruin your metabolism,” Light said, sitting up and blinking blearily at L.
And then he looked around the room, and then he realised how bright it was outside, and that it was later than he’d originally thought, and—fuck, wasn’t the bus going to be leaving right about now ?
Light threw the covers off and swung his legs out of bed. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
L cocked his head. “Tell you what?”
“Isn’t the bus going to be leaving soon? Come on, L, we have to go now —”
“Matsuda said today’s a free day, Light-kun.” L lazily popped another sweet in his mouth.
Light blinked. “...oh.”
He felt like an idiot, and he did not relish this feeling—how did Matsuda even stand feeling like this 24/7?
“And you’re just sitting here, waiting for…?” Light raised an eyebrow.
“I’ve got nowhere to go, anyway,” L responded, in something that sounded like an answer but wasn’t really an answer, all things considered.
Light looked at L, and the morning light slanted across his face quite perfectly. If Light slitted his eyes a little, he could possibly trick himself into believing this was his home, and L was—what? The one he loved ?
Pfft.
As if.
“Where do you want to go, then?” Light said abruptly.
L stood up from the bed. “We can wander around.” He stuck another piece of candy in his mouth, and shrugged.
They ended up in front of a dessert shop, of course.
Somehow L seemed to be attracted to any kind of dessert shop in any city he went to, and Light was sure if he was thrown into the Sahara desert he’d still manage to find a dessert shop in ten minutes.
“Do you always go to one of these for lunch…?”
L blinked at him. “Of course, Light-kun. Do you think that I'm a degenerate?”
“...you know what? Let’s just go in.” Light pushed open the door, and was struck by the thought that everywhere in Japan, no matter what dessert shop you went to, they all looked the same.
They all had merchandise somewhere, and they had teenagers who were working part-time jobs and looked half-dead, and they had complicated, foreign names for just about every single thing on the menu. Which was also rather exorbitantly priced— 2000 yen for two pancakes ? Basically a legal robbery in broad daylight, targeting those who were stupid, and had too much money they needed to get rid of—basically L in a nutshell.
L sat down at one of the tables, sliding a menu over to Light. “Light-kun, what would you like?”
“Um…” All the photos were disgustingly sweet and drizzled in syrup, which made Light cringe as a sickly-sweet taste was called into his mouth, swirling on his tongue like an unwelcome snail’s shell. “Uh, I think I’ll pass.”
L tilted his head, staring at Light. “Light-kun really doesn’t like sweet things. Why is that?”
Light snorted. “Not everything has a second meaning to it, L—are you going to start analysing my eating habits now, huh?” He laughed lightly, waving a hand in the air. “What, just because I don’t like eating sweet things means I’m terribly depressed and unhappy with the state of life I'm in now? Not everything’s English comprehension , L!”
It came out harsher than he’d intended, and Light realised his answers were all getting harsher than he’d intended.
This was not the way it was supposed to go. Light bit his lip and oh no , he wasn’t going to go absolutely batshit crazy in this fucking tiny dessert stall with a vintage sign outside that the owner probably thought looked really cute, but actually was vomit-coloured and made Light think of rotting rats’ corpses in acid battery juice.
Nope. Not in a place like this .
(Not in front of a person like L.)
L stayed silent for a little more, and Light stared fixedly out of the window, waiting for L to just get up and leave already so Light could get on with his normal life with normal people that could never hold a candle to L, but it was like L was a firework and everyone else were just sparks on a wooden stick that you waved about in the night sky.
And he thought that it was a tragedy that the only person who had ever made him feel something also made Light see nothing but the truth.
“Light-kun’s very defensive,” L observed quietly, folding and unfolding the laminated menu. Light watched him do that, again and again and the sound of the thwacks were all he could hear. “You never like to give any personal information, do you, Light ?
“No-one ever really knows anything about you. They’ve said you’re a wonderful conversationalist and a polite person but not one of them knows how you take your coffee, what ice cream flavour you like best, not even what you like doing in your free time, if you even have any from being—well— Light Yagami . And you’re very good at playing the role, I must say, Light Yagami-kun.” L raised an eyebrow.
“In fact, I’d even say you were perfect if I were to be a normal person. You’ve truly mastered the art of being a person, Light-kun.
“Are you proud?”
And in the silence that followed all Light could think of was how that was the most number of words he’d ever heard L say before. He stared at L.
“Oh no, I think I broke him,” L noted, speaking to an invisible entity. He waved a hand in front of Light’s face. “Light-kun? Light-kun…is anyone home?”
“Shut up,” Light snapped, less snappily than he would’ve liked.
L appraised him, and then nodded. “According to my dictionary on Light-kun, this means whatever I just said was correct.”
“I don’t like you,” Light said, frowning. He repeated it, just to make sure he wasn’t going crazy. “I don’t like you, L.”
“You never like anyone who sees you for who you really are, Light-kun.”
Oh, he did not like L.
“And is that really such a bad thing?” he retorted instinctively.
And even as the words left his mouth Light was already praying that L did not hear it, because if there was one thing Light Yagami hated more than telling the truth, it would be hearing it.
( Especially from L, his exceptionally unhelpful brain supplied.)
L reached across the table, and for a second Light thought he was going to interlace their fingers just like last time, but instead he just placed his hand there, as if waiting for something—waiting for some one ?
“No, Light-kun. It’s not.”
Light stared at L’s hand, and then he raised his gaze up to L’s face.
No, that wasn’t very much like the look of a liar.
(That is to say that at that moment, L looked as far from a Light Yagami as you could see.)
And Light thought it was impressive how L could make everything seem so wonderful on him.
It did really say a lot about them, he thought to himself.
Light was dazzling until you looked closer, peeled away the layers to discover nothing but a rotten apple core hidden within. L was a crumbling, dismal pastry, until you bit into it and every flavour you could ever want burst like fireworks right on the fleshy tip of your tongue.
“Stop thinking so much, Light-kun.”
Light blinked, and then realised that L was looking at him with an expression that very much resembled amusement. “...you’re one to talk.”
L shrugged. “But you must get tired of thinking so much, Light-kun.”
He wiggled his hand again, like an offer.
Light sighed.
“You’re so stupid.”
He reached slowly across, and the look on L’s face was almost painful to behold.
Light let a wistful smile drape his face, and L inclined his head, ever so gently—
And then Light reached out and slapped L’s hand, hard , and then burst into laughter that was probably drawing a thousand irritated glares onto himself, but oh god, the look on L’s face—it was priceless .
“Told you,” Light snickered. “You’re a dumbass.”
“You’re a terrible, terrible person,” L sighed, leaning back in his chair. “This is going on my psychiatrist’s notes, Yagami-kun…very disappointing of you.”
“Did the slap feel good?”
“...well.”
“You perv.”
And then L was smiling at him, and miraculously, magically, the world righted itself again.
When they got back to the hotel, it was 7p.m. and everyone was crowded around the bus waiting for them.
Misa giggled at the sight, and then leaned over to her girlfriend to whisper something, and Light should’ve known this would happen, but—oh, well.
“Finally everyone’s here!” Matsuda said, and for once, Light didn’t feel so pissed at Matsuda anymore, and if he closed his eyes he could pretend they were still back at the dessert shop, with a dollop of cold sweet ice cream dissolving in his mouth and jazzy background music playing and talking with L, talking until his mouth was sore and he couldn’t remember the last time he laughed this much.
And L was next to him, and as cheesy as it sounded, Light did not feel so much like a marionette anymore.
Ew. Was he going to turn into a Misa now? Or even worse, a Matsuda ?
“Can’t believe he’s still so enthusiastic,” L muttered, and Light snorted.
“I wish I had that kind of stamina.”
They boarded, and Light took the window seat and, when L wasn’t looking, allowed himself to press his face against the cool, cool glass. To smush his face into the window, to look out at the bright traffic lights, colourful like hard candy and this was the first time he didn’t think they were too blinding.
Little Demon : you’re coming back today, right?! (^-^)
Me : Yup.
Little Demon : how was the trip?? it wasn’t that terrible, right? (^з^)-☆
Me : No, I guess it wasn’t.
Little Demon : …don’t tell me you got with that weirdo.
Me : …
Little Demon : yagami light.
Little Demon : you did not .
Me : He’s not that weird.
Little Demon : you’re so fucking whipped.
Me : Watch your language, Sayu.
Little Demon : whatever. can i tell yuri?? ( ＾ω＾)
Me : Absolutely not.
Little Demon : you suck. (/_;)/~~
L woke Light up by creepily staring into his face again.
“Can you stop doing that? It’s creepy as fuck, and it could probably get you arrested,” Light snapped, smacking a palm onto L’s face and pushing him away. L’s face was surprisingly squishy, like pale mochi or something, and dammit, now he felt like a creep.
“It seems to be an effective tactic in getting Light-kun to wake up fast, though.”
Light shot L a Look. To his credit, L did not look intimidated.
“It’s time to get off the bus, Light-kun.”
Light blinked.
It was dark, and the day had ended, and it followed from there that it was appropriate for him to ‘get off the bus’, too, of course .
“Oh. Okay,” he said.
L looked at Light, and thankfully it was one of the rare times where L decided to shut up.
When they got off the bus, Matsuda was saying something that Light did not pay attention to—probably just some motivational things he’d sourced off of Google.
“Do you want to say something to me, Light-kun?” L asked suddenly.
“Ew. No.”
L tilted his head, and he did not retort and that made something start to crack in Light.
“Are you sure?”
And this made Light do something he probably wouldn’t ever do again because, hello , usually he had more than a modicum of common sense.
(But somehow it was always L.)
He grabbed L’s hand aggressively and turned away from the group, walking quickly away from them while tugging L along like a dog, or a toddler he was babysitting.
“Light-kun?” L said.
“Shut up. This is already embarrassing enough,” Light hissed. “So shut up, and let me say what I want to say because this is going to be the only time I do this.
“You were right, okay? I don’t tell the truth. I never tell the truth to anyone. But you make me want to tell the truth. You’re always honest, and fine , I admit it, I hated that about you, okay?” Light shut his eyes so he wouldn’t have to look at L’s face.
“The favourite colour I tell people is blue, because it’s nice and safe and all and my favourite ice cream flavour to everyone’s chocolate because it’s mature, and it’s not boring.
“But I like red, and I’ve always wanted to try the stupid cotton candy flavour that probably tastes like chalk in your mouth, and sometimes I wish the world didn’t exist so cruelly and I wish that I could live without it being a lie.”
Light opened his eyes, glaring at L.
“Are you happy now?”
Are you happy, Light-kun?
Are you?
L didn’t snap back at him, or turn around and walk away.
He did something even worse.
He looked at Light, and touched the back of his hand with Light’s so gently, and under the glaring traffic lights L’s eyes looked like a pool you could lose yourself in.
“I know, Light-kun, I know. If anything…” L paused, and his tone was terrifyingly serious and Light resisted the urge to crack a joke and run away from this strange, intimate atmosphere that made him feel a certain way.
“If anything, I'm glad you’re telling me the truth. No more hiding for you after this.”
“I don’t want to lose you.”
Light said it carefully, like an actor trying out a line onstage.
And ironically it was the most truthful thing he’d ever said to anyone.
L tilted his head.
“Is that Light-kun’s way of telling me he loves me?”
Light tried to laugh, but all he could do was nod like an idiot. Oh, god, what had L reduced him to…
“You’re so stupid,” he said, and then he was saying it into L’s face, and then he was almost-crying it into L’s shoulder and he was surprisingly warm for someone who looked like a coat hanger.
“You’re so stupid,” Light repeated, again and again and again and even as he smushed his face into the other’s shirt (which was probably extremely unhygienic, but just for this once he would let it slide), and basically all but Velcroed himself to L.
“Light-kun sucks at giving normal hugs,” L noted, and Light punched him in the shoulder.
“You’d better treasure it, because that’s the last hug you’ll ever get from me,” Light snapped, pulling away.
L tilted his head, looking at Light thoughtfully.
And then he pulled Light into another hug.
“It doesn’t count if it’s from me, then.”
“I didn’t know you were this cheesy.”
“No, I just like exploiting loopholes,” L said, and despite himself Light couldn’t help but laugh.
“I don’t want to lose you,” he admitted.
And oh, god, since when did he become this cheesy, too? And then immediately after Light reminded himself that he should let himself have this Moment, because it did make for very good character development.
L patted his back awkwardly.
“You won’t lose me, I swear.”
Light stood there, and let L hug him.
It was dark in the corner that they were at, and there were no fluorescent lights.
He laid his head on L’s shoulder, and looked up, and all he saw were stars.
Oh, he thought.
So this is what it’s like to love.
And to be loved.
L’s eyes were bright, and beautiful, and in this moment they were all Light needed.