Authors Foreword: It always bothers me just a little to see L always so cold and detached. In that amazing mind are thousands of thoughts all going at once. It must be very loud in there. How does he quiet his thoughts? How does he make it stop for just a moment? I took the moment from the anime where L was on the roof in the rain, before Light came and found him. In this precious moment of cold water and chaos, L reflects...on himself, his duty, his life, and the bright spark of love he keeps hidden deep inside. This is from L's point of view.

Mocking Thunder

Standing on the rooftop with the rain pouring down on me, to the casual observer I must have looked quite insane. I'm not altogether sure sometimes that I'm not. The rush of overlapping thoughts that are never truly silent. I knew with a 90 percent probability that my life was nearing its end. I had made an error in befriending Raito. Grown too distracted by the daily lives of those around me. My commitment to stay detached from the personnel in the investigation had faltered. It could, no, would be my downfall. I had allowed emotional attachment, something I had thought well suppressed long ago. Kira would have me. It was a matter of when now, not if. With the thunder and the pounding of rain all around me, I can focus...just enough to quiet the crowded noise into a low hum. Rain always makes its own kind of music, almost like a hum of its own. Sometimes, if I close my eyes and wait...I can hear the sound of memories. The sound of one voice, the sound of gentle smiles and soft touches. The sound that reminds me even I was little once.

The sound of singing...

Five months, eleven days, nine hours, and three minutes. That's how long I knew her. Appearing as new staff often does at Whammy House, disappearing just as suddenly. She was unlike the other of our caretakers. Our caretakers tended to be older, harder, sterner. Their eyes held none of the mirth of youth and little of its joys. She wore a smile that was just shy of constant laughter, as if she was always hearing a whispered joke. She was often scolded by the house mother for being too involved with us...an extra cookie here, a hidden sweet there...She knew us by name. She would sing as she hung the days washing. So many shirts, so many children...and yet she knew, and only she knew, how I hated when my clothes touched another's.

...and she danced...she'd flutter in the halls when she walked, she'd bounce down the stairs, she'd twirl through the kitchen...as if she was always hearing music. She thought no one saw her, but I did. The small boy with the big eyes and a penchant for being unseen. I saw her, but it felt to me as if I was intruding on something sacred, something just for her alone. So I never said I had seen.

How is it I can remember all that and not remember my own age at the time? I looked up into the sky as the rain poured into my eyes. I think I may have been seven, perhaps, eight, no more than nine. I had not been at Whammy House for too long, but I may be mistaken. Hmph...listen to me...mistaken. There was a time not so long ago I would have grown annoyed at the mere suggestion of such. Perhaps I am softening in my old age. Old age...seems cruel to think of twenty-five as old, but my predecessors rarely lived so long. The mantle of L put one in a position where 22 was old and 30 was ancient. Every L before making the kind of fatal flaws in the end that brought their demise. Perhaps it was simply a soul weary tiredness, perhaps it was the desire to have a name, a face, a soul of one's own. As L, I am anonymous. A ghost. A whispered threat on the wind. I hung my head as the rain beat a song on my water-tamed hair. I was another once. So long ago I have to dig deep to bring the memories to me, but I had a laugh. A soft laugh. A laugh...and a voice that wasn't laced with stress and insomnia. The effort of the thought brought something else along with it...bitterness. It sat on the back of my tongue and lingered there, like the taste of milk.

She'd bring me warm milk when I couldn't sleep. I hated the way it tasted, but she would insist upon it. She said her mother always gave it to her when she was small. Then she'd start in on a story from her childhood...and oh could she ever talk. I knew the names of her brothers, her parents, even her dog. Then she'd hum her familiar song and start taking the pins from her hair. She told me how her mother used to pin her wild curls back, and how they never really obeyed. I wondered if it was soft. Strawberry blonde, and full of rebellion. I wanted to put one of those curls around my finger. Somehow, I just knew if I could, I could fall asleep...finally. The dreams might not be there this time, the ache inside might be less. She seemed to sense in me a need, a longing. She had a certain fondness for me. I never understood why. I once asked her.

"Miss Anna? Why do you talk to me so much more than anyone else?"

"Well little one, here we are you and me. We're sort of lost in the world. We're starting to forget what it is that makes us human. Maybe...maybe for just a little while we can remember how to laugh in the rain, mock the thunder, and challenge the gods themselves"

I didn't know what that meant then. I'm not really sure I know now. I do remember the times when the summer storms would come without warning. She would run out to save the laundry, laughing and singing. I wondered why she'd laugh. She was soaking wet and all her work for the day was wasted. It was all for nothing. There was no point to her toil. Yet, she laughed as if it was a grand amusement between her and God himself.

I shivered as I began to notice I was completely soaked through. I longed for a hot cup of coffee and something sweet. I indulged myself with sweets so often that it no longer occurred to me that people would ever deny themselves them. Being L had its...perks? No one questioned your eccentricities. As long as you solved the world's troubles, you had anything you wished. Food, drink, books, money, technology...I'm sure if I had ever asked for women they would have been provided. It was a position that we, as 'very special' children strived for. The praise when we excelled beyond the rest. The honor of being L's successor. If all we had was our minds, then our minds they would get. We would hide the emptiness in our souls and keep fighting each other for the crumbs from the adult's table. That's not to say I never wanted to be L. I excelled in my exams, mastered every language I have ever heard, read every book I ever thought relevant. I could hack any computer I put my fingers on and deduce the most complex logic problems. I was made to be L. But now, in the dark, in the cold...it really did feel empty. Empty perhaps because I knew I had lost? Empty perhaps because Kira had bested me? Was I out of tricks? Had I nothing left? Would he slip from my grasp? Would I bring justice? Who then, if I could not?

...I really want some cake right now.

She put the strawberry covered confection on the small table near me. It looked to me as if temptation has mated with sin. It was four layers high, covered in frosting and sugar sparkles. Strawberries seemed to float lazily atop mounds of buttercreme. It couldn't be for me...if the house mother saw she'd take it away and I'd go to bed without my dinner. I looked at her, wide eyed and cautious. Was this some trick? Why would she put this small piece of happiness in front of me if she did not intend me to have it. I opened my mouth to question her, but her light laughter bubbled up and silenced my sharp accusation.

"It's cake, little one"

"Yes, I can see that it is. Why is it here? It is not my birthday, nor is it the birthday of any child here"

"and why do you need a birthday for cake? I made it because it was just the kind of day for cake and oh little one, good cake should never be wasted."

"So it's for me?"

"What a silly question, of course it's for you."

"but why?"

"Because little one, you're still a child and sometimes children have cake for lunch." and with that she flittered out of the room.

How did she know...or did she even know? How did she know that no one had ever made me a cake before? I pulled my knees up to my chest and stared at that bit of forbidden love. I knew I wanted it. I wanted to lick the frosting off the strawberries and taste the sugar sparkles as they melted on my tongue. I leaned forward and grabbed the plate, taking the little fork in my hand. I debated for longer than was prudent and finally just took the little fork and ran it along the icing edge. Putting that bit of heaven in my mouth, all felt right with the world. It was the kind of joy that only a child has for such things and I laughed a child's laugh...I think that was the last time I was ever truly innocent.

I laughed at the memory. How one small gesture could linger in the mind long after its relevance has passed. How morose I have become this day! How reflective...how...un L. Perhaps I really WAS getting old. The shiver turned into a nearly constant shaking in my legs and I knew if I did not go inside soon I would most likely catch a chill. I would go inside and the roar of my thoughts would catch up with me and the pace of life would once again speed towards the inevitable. Back to Raito, back to Kira, back to hoping I could bring justice before I became another name in the book. I would just disappear from this world, my name lost to any living soul, my memories sealed within me, my life passed on to another.

I remember the last day I spent with her. Her smile was still there, but there was no laughter behind it. There was no dancing, no flittering, no fresh breeze that was her presence in a room. I watched her hanging the wash. He hands lingering upon one of my small shirts, smoothing it. Her song seemed less bright, as if something had stolen the melody and gave it back to her broken. She went about her daily duties and I followed her as I always did, staying as unseen as I could.

"I see you there little one"

"...yes Miss Anna?"

"come here to me"

So I did, I came to her call. She looked me over and with a world-weary sigh, she folded me into her arms. The first...and only hug I have ever remembered. It felt like a goodbye, but I don't think I knew that then. She held me, safe and...maybe even loved. I wish I could remember what I was feeling. Maybe I didn't feel anything. Maybe I did, pity...it's gone now. She released me and brought her face down to meet mine. A sweet, chaste, kiss upon my forehead. Her words betraying her feelings slightly.

"You are a good boy, I want you to know that"

Then she hurried off to her next chore, only I did not follow. I simply stood there. Had I known it was the last time I might have said something. Had I known...perhaps I would have hugged her back. That night I sat in my bed and waited for her to come talk to me. I waited for her lullaby and her soft curls. I wondered about how they might feel. My hand wandered between the headboard and the mattress, stopping when they encountered something foreign, a hairpin. Her hairpin. I clutched it in my hand and fell asleep dreaming of strawberries. When morning came she was gone and another in her place. Just like that. Five months, eleven days, nine hours, and three minutes...

I remember it rained for three days after that. Three days, two hours, and fifty-seven minutes. On those days...I listened...and listened...but I never heard her singing.

So here I am. Soon to be gone and another in my place. Just like that. For some reason I found that funny. To compare the world's greatest detective to a house maid. Yet, we were not so different. We did our duties and once we were done, we were replaced like a worn-out tool. The great L...a screwdriver for justice. I laughed. I laughed like I had never laughed. I laughed up into the sky and it felt so good. I laughed until it hurt. I mocked the thunder. I taunted it. I dared it to take away from me this moment. Then...on the wind, carried by the rain and clouds...was a song. Laughter and the sound of song. I could swear I could almost make out words.

Then behind me I head a door open. Raito kun had come to find me. I let him call out to me, let him believe I could not hear. Let him come wet his perfection out here. Let him be washed clean too.

sigh I turned toward the impatient voice calling for me.

Well Miss Anna...I have laughed in the rain and mocked the thunder...now it is time to go inside and challenge "god".