Death Note: Montage
Summary: The bells haunt him.
(dreams)
He has never had dreams, or at least none that he can remember. But in the days before his death his thoughts hang heavy, and it is perhaps unsurprising that he should dream of the funeral bells, ringing mournfully, deep and sonorous, like an accusation, like an omen. They sound in the bleakness of his own mind, ticking away the time that falls into the abyss inexorably, and there seems no refuge or escape.
He feels like he's running out of time.
And there's Yagami Raito, lurking about, whispering words of assurance of support with a serpent's tongue, with his sidelong looks out of narrow, suspicious eyes. He reminds L of failure. He knows, with senses that do not rely on proof to tell the truth, that Raito is Kira. But the law will not hang Raito with only a shadow of a suspicion, insubstantial as smoke.
Kira, what are you planning? How much time have I left?
Sometimes he catches himself, reminiscing like an old man, a man ready to die. He thinks of softer things, before this life of secrecy and shadows, though he feels no regret or longing for them. He thinks of stained glass saturated in white, hot sunlight, of the whispers and glances of the children, and the tall, black gates, stabbing the gray sky from which snow falls, soft and white as feathers. But mostly he dwells on the memory of the bells, and death.
(prophecy)
On the last day, it is a cold morning, and the storm clouds mass on the horizon, ready to begin their inexorable march across the colorless sky. L looks out the window, and feels the sudden, irresistible need to touch them; he flattens his hand against the cold glass, splaying out his fingers in the shape of a star, and feels the glass push back, an invisible, yet certain, presence.
He's going to die soon.
He knows this, as surely as he knows that his heart is beating or the existence of the sea. The weight of his knowledge is a tangible thing that bows his shoulders, more than usual, and prolongs the space between heartbeats to his straining ears. It is a race now, but not one that he is certain he can win. It is hard not to just linger here, away from the bitter presence of Yagami Raito, and simply wait for the end.
After all, he is just one of many Ls. He is replaceable. But as for Watari…he is relieved that his companion understands. It makes the guilt easier to bear.
He climbs up the stairs to the roof to hear the bells better, the sound deadened by distance and by time. This might be your last chance, a small, sad voice inside him whispers, and he feels as though there's nothing more precious in the world than the breath in his lungs and the concrete beneath his bare feet.
It starts to rain.
(the hourglass)
If L has had longer to live, he would have never forgotten the sudden tightness that seizes his chest, and the terrifying knowledge that there was no time left. Instead, he falls, fighting with an abruptly traitorous heart and body, and he sees the past and the dead, living as though real.
The tolling of the bells beat in his ears like the heartbeat he no longer has. He stares into Yagami Raito's sneering face, and he stares into white light that grows stronger and more intense, engulfing and all-consuming, and the pressure in his chest worsens until
it
bursts