The Long Road


Light is young, guileless and soft, when he meets L for that first time in some far off dream. L himself is still old, in the eyes and the way his knees crack when he moves with too much vigour. But, he supposes, in this wistful haze he does feel younger than when he will awake with bleary eyes and a head that weighs him down.

They are at a break in their journey, which has seemed forever long and winding as a stream, the faintest trickle of water running down to make an ocean. They descend further into fog and pay no mind to it, ignoring the growing weight of luggage on their backs and the way the air becomes thicker, colder. L does not know how long they have been walking, side by side and wordless but with one another for company. He is sure he only met this boy today.

But for now, the details are inconsequential as they laze together and sunshine tumbles down to play on blades of grass like delicate fingers. Light lays face up upon the green, staring into the sky as if it holds the answers to any and all of his questions. There must be a lot of those, thinks L, as he looks down from his sitting position at the curious eyes below. Why else would such a young boy be so far away from home, and so content to walk with this apparent stranger to a destination neither of them knows? He must be looking for something. L hopes the journey is worth what he finds.

With a pensive hum, L shifts and rolls onto his side on the grass. He sees tufts of auburn hair and one ear peeking out from beneath it, the slope of a neck that delves into the collar of a school uniform. Maybe if L figures out what school the boy attends, he can go back on his journey to bring the boy home. He has always felt that his own fate was sealed, that whatever lies ahead of the walls of fog he wanders through is all there ever will be. But he knows, in occasions such as this, that there is a world out there with luscious grass and tall buildings, good foods and opportunities and he wants that for Light. He wants to send this hesitant boy back into all he runs from until he sees that he can cope, and thrive, and love.

Following a long path that leads to only darkness is enough to justify becoming cold hearted and immune to the world, to humanity. L knows this well enough. When he sees young Light, smiling gently on the grass with the sun on his cheeks, he thinks he has seen that face before, only taught with worry and pent up hatred.

In the midst of L's reverie, Light stands and throws his arms up into the air, stretching. L wishes he could take back the sins of another and restore his friend to this, this shining boy with no resentment reaching up to brush the sky with his fingertips. If only he could teach this new friend of his to be satisfied with the meandering hum of this life instead of seeking thrills in danger and cataclysms and journeys with no pleasant end in sight. If this were not a dream, perhaps he would have a chance.

"We should leave here soon," he says, and Light gives him a sidelong glance as if he knows what L has been thinking and he knows the path he has chosen is more morbid than he originally thought. It's a sad smile he gives, before he sets off with a call of "five more minutes!" and runs excitedly through the endless meadow, arms spread out to catch the gentle breeze that blows past him. L watches from a distance, and although he only met this boy today and does not know much about him, he thinks it is quite uncharacteristic of him to play like this, to allow himself to simply play and enjoy without concern towards anything else.

When five minutes, or something like that, has passed, he re-joins L and picks up his heavy bag from the ground, panting with exertion. They make their way back towards the road, followed only by the screech of an alarm clock.


L wakes in a cold sweat, and remembers Yotsuba and Light and confinement, and realises he has slept for the first time in three nights. Light Yagami blinks his way into consciousness beside him, sits up and enquires who will be showering first today. He sees Light then, ready and willing to find this new Kira after a mere three hours of sleep, with dark circles edged into his eyes that remain piercing nonetheless. He sees this lonely boy who is so enamoured by the thrill of the chase and a companion to play with, and he thinks he understands. He cannot approve, but he can understand.


AN: Hello . It's been a while, but I made you something? Feedback is much appreciated, thanks!

Disclaimers and all that: I don't own Death Note.