notes/warnings;

+ this is a lxlight fanfiction

+ it might turn into smut? I will put a warning on those chapters if it turns out to be

+ set after L's death

+ sorry about typos or whatever! I am but a monkey on a keyboard, I type letters in haphazardly and publish them before the regret sets in


"Two possibilities exist: either we are alone in the Universe or we are not. Both are equally terrifying." ― Arthur C. Clarke

Light Yagami has always been a very logical person. He never once has made a bad judgement, for his assessment on logic has always been precisely accurate. He's always taken pride in the fact that, despite everything, he would be able to push emotion aside and let rationality take it's course.

Not once, once has he fallen victim to the emotional human narrative. He's always been able to pull himself together even in the worst of times.

Even when killing his own father, he was not affected.

So he doesn't understand how, now, someone so very ridiculously effective in destroying all his plans could be influencing him so devastatingly much. L, his rival, his worst enemy—now the singular face in all his nightmares.

He stares at the blank grave in front of him and doesn't even flinch when a raindrop lands upon his shoulder. There's no name on it, but he knows exactly who is buried there. Above the tomb sits a white cross, unbelievably ironic to the whole situation. L would roll over in his grave. He never believed in God. The cemetery is quiet, eerily so. Not even a sound of a car passes by.

L.

He's killed millions of people, and, theoretically, L should be just another name in his notebook that has been executed by his own hand, but, alas, Light has a hard time seeing him that way. He's tried to consider his purpose, tried to remember L had to die for a reason. After all, L was his biggest obstacle. His only obstacle. No one else has ever had the brain to go up against the teen, Light was convinced no one else ever would. Light supposes it's natural. He spent months with the reclusive detective, being investigated. They were both of the same intelligence, the same mind. He was bound to form some type of bond with the genius, even if he never held him even close to being a friend. It seemed Light has underestimated the strongness of that bond, however.

Light is seeing him everywhere, smelling him, tasting him on his tongue.

At first, it had only been small things. A glimpse of raven hair, the smell of strawberries on his clothing, a sudden sickening sugary taste right behind his lips. Yes, at first, it had started out small. He was fine in dealing with that. But now, he sees him.

Everytime he looks in the mirror he catches a glimpse of dark eyes and pale skin. He feels eyes watching him. He can see the detective in his old chair sometimes, thumb to his lips with that annoying posture he was always sporting. Light can see the detective wherever he goes, even now, crouching beside the own man's grave. The rain begins to sprinkle harder and harder.

He's tried to ignore the hallucinations, tried to let them pass like all things, tried to reason with himself it's not real, but he can't help but begin to believe that the things he sees are not mere imaginations—but mockery from the grave. Perhaps L is still alive somewhere, on some eternal, pitiful purgatory, spending his eternity mocking him. It would make Light feel better than having no L here at all.

A small—very small, illogical—part of Light's brain doesn't want L to be gone.

It's been so boring here without him.

Light Yagami has always been a reasonable person, but now here he is, seeing dead people and standing out in the middle of a cemetery during a coming storm.

It's all very troubling, really.

There is a distant roar of thunder and the hysterics of a very entertained shinigami.


Things only get worse from there.

The scent of Misa's perfume still lingers in the air like an annoying fog, threatening to give Light a migraine worse than any he's ever had. She's been worried about the way he's been acting lately, so she's been visiting more often. Her visits are not helping, that's for sure. He can still hear her voice in his head from nearly an hour ago, that high pitched sound beating at his eardrums still. Light had made it in from the rain in time earlier today, but almost wished he would've let himself be soaked so he might've had an excuse not to be with her. He makes a mental note to take three aspirin instead of two the next time she comes. He doubts anything could combat her migraine inducing power, but he figures he might as well give it a shot.

Light's been writing down names since she left. A few criminals there, a few here. Now that his biggest rival is dead, he doesn't have to worry about hiding too much anymore. The investigation team is nothing more than a bunch of idiots and leave him alone nowadays. They could never see past him. Not like L ever could.

There, in the corner of his eye, he spots him.

He knows it's him because the investigation hall is empty. No one comes to check on him unless it's Misa. He likes it that way.

On the other end of the room, though it's very dark, he can see L sitting in an investigation chair, crouched up like Light had never written his name in the Death Note. He's dimly lit by the lamp on that side of the room, but Light can just make out his hunched over form. The detective is eerily still, his black, cool gaze never shifting from the boy. Light tries to go back writing his notebook, but is stopped when he catches movement out of his peripheral. L is a chair closer. Two chairs away from him. Light glances around, eyes wide. His hallucinations have never moved like that before. Experimentally, he closes his eyes and reopens them.

A chair closer. Only one more and he will be… Light tries not to think about it and swallows. He examines the detective. His dark circles are so heavy, and there is so much hate in that gaze.

It's what you get, L, Light thinks, you're nothing more than a loser.

It's a comforting thought, really, but Light is beginning to lack the courage to even blink. He doesn't want L in front of him. He doesn't even want to see the detective, but having him right in front of him—the thought makes him shiver for some reason.

His eyes are getting dry, red. L stares on, almost as if he's mocking him.

I dare you to close your eyes, Light, he can imagine the detective mumbling, his stare pressing on.

Light sneers and narrows his eyes at that, turning them back to the paper. He won't be scared by some pitiful, pathetic trick of his mind. He's not a child. His reason will always prevail over L's own. He won't be bested by a hallucination.

Light let's his eyes wander up to the seat, expecting to come face to face with L himself. Instead, he's faced with nothing. The chair is empty, L is gone. Light looks around, eyes wide. No sign of the detective whatsoever.

These hallucinations are getting worse, horrifyingly so. Light sighs and rests his head on the back of the chair, breathing out a heavy sigh of relief.

"Why do I keep seeing you?" He whispers, clicking his pen in his hand. The silence is quickly interrupted by a reply, one which Light had not been expecting.

"Perhaps because you miss me, Raito-kun?" a milky smooth voice responds. The boy almost swears he can feel breath on his ear.

Light nearly falls out of his chair, eyes wide on the spot behind him.

There is nothing there.


It's been a week since the incident and Light is still shaken up over it. He can still feel L's breath on his neck, still here those words in his ear. He's been avoiding the investigation room completely. The whole task force is worried about him. It's been a job trying to hide the fact he's scared to death of being alone or in that god awful room, but he's tried to stifle their suspicions with complaints of not feeling well. He's convinced he's going stir crazy without his rival, without someone to compete against. Sometimes he feels himself slipping, feels L all around him.

Sometimes, even, he wants to see him again. His whole world is so bleak now. His world. But so bleak. Never had he imagined he had grown so close to the detective.

Those times are the worst.

Now he stands out on top of the balcony, just as L had a long time ago, gazing out over Tokyo. The sky is grey again, almost mocking his own dullness. His world is nothing but grey now, even the lit buildings are emitting nothing but a dim kind of light. Nothing stirs against his eyes. The whole world is so much less interesting without him there.

He, of course, does not miss him, but he does crave the need for challenge once again. Now that he has tasted it, he craves nothing more than to experience it again. What does he have to fight against now? The world is in his hands—his own grasp—yet he is not happy.

Things are not going according to plan.

L. His worst enemy. How did he ever think he could have escaped him?

"You're pretty boring, you know?"

Light jumps, his hair standing on end as he turns around—half expecting to be met with the furious dark gaze of a leering ghost detective. Instead, he is simply met with the bulging, red eyes of his own shinigami, a much less horrendous sight. Light has really grown to hate him lately.

"Ryuk," he grinds his teeth, staring down the shinigami evilly and crossing his arms, "what did I tell you about sneaking up on me like that?"

The boy turns back to the railing, leaning on it and sneering. The shinigami laughs in response, floating up behind him to the eye the city below. It apparently doesn't excite the death god too much. He goes back to annoying Light.

"But it's the only way I can get any interesting response out of you anymore." Ryuk replies, grin faltering at the edges. "It's no fair. Here I thought I had an interesting human, but instead I get a little lame brain."

Light only sighs. He wants to be entertained too. He leans his head on the cold railing like he used to do when he was a teenager and closes his eyes. Not even a death god is a match for the entertainment L gave him.

"There are apples in the fridge, Ryuk. Just leave me be." Light could care less about anything the shinigami has to say. It's not like the death god can provide any help to him anyway. As if the thing would want to anyway.

"That's pretty tempting, I gotta say," the shinigami replies, floating around Light like a little bird. "but, no. This isn't gonna work. Nothing is happening, Light."

Ryuk groans when the boy doesn't respond and decides perching on the railing beside Light would be more comfortable. He proceeds to sit on the handrail like a monkey. It's really not flattering.

"You've been so boring after that human guy died. What was his name? L? Right. What's up with that?" Ryuk looks over at Light for at least a shrug, but, alas, nothing. "Ugh. It's like you miss him or something. Geez."

Ryuk looks over to the doors, thinking about going after those apples if Light doesn't respond, but is rather pleased when the boy looks up at him with wide eyes. He's hit the sweet spot. Maybe this boy is still somewhat interesting?

Perhaps you miss me, Raito-kun?

The words the hallucination had said ring through Light's head like a chime, still so clear and right in his ear.

"Miss him? Of course not." The boy talks to Ryuk and L at the same time. He, at least, hopes L will hear him. "I'm finally able to take over the world, become God. There is nothing standing in my way anymore."

He doesn't miss him. It's not that at all. Even if he did, it wouldn't matter now. There's no bringing him back. The fun is over.

Light decides to continue on, "Nevertheless, it is far less interesting without him here. For now, at least."

The shinigami agrees, but says nothing. His grin spreads wider. Yes, this whole scenario is very interesting indeed. There is a sort of mischievous glint to the death god's eyes, a idea clustering in that very thick skull of his. Ryuk can hardly contain himself, it's all going perfectly.

"Do you wish you could have done it all over? Without killing the human?" Ryuk questions, gazing over at the boy.

There is silence. Light's eyes falter from the never blinking death god's own. Does he? Light is not sure. He had never thought about it. Another chance? He thinks of keeping L alive, making him watch as he turned his world inside out. He clears his throat. "Perhaps. What of it, shinigami?"

"So what if you could have him back?" The creature says. There's something malicious in his voice.

Light scoffs at the death god rather cynically. "Ryuk, don't kid me. Life is not so simple. If it was, man would have already figured it out by now."

"You think it's complex?" Ryuk lets out one of those raspy little laughs he always does."If a Death Note can kill a person so simply, you think it's any harder to bring them back? Humans are just stupid is all, Light-o."

The auburn haired boy gazes over at Ryuk, now curious. Having L back? To do all over? The death god has caught his attention. Ryuk had never offered to tell such interesting information before.

The shinigami continues on, eyes twinkling. "Yes, bringing someone back to life is easy, but you would have to be willing to make a deal with me in order for a human to be brought back."

Light's interest suddenly deteriorates. He hates deals. He turns back to the city, frowning. The shinigami can see he has lost him.

"Wait, wait," Ryuk tries to recover, almost falling off the handrail in the process. "It's simple. Same as the eye deal. Except I take from you the remaining lifespan of the human you are trying to bring back. How many years they had before you, you know, wiped 'em out."

Light's frown deepens. He should have known this was all a trick. "Like I said before, Ryuk, how is a god supposed to rule with half, or more of his remaining lifespan?"

"Yea, yea, but think about it, Light-o," Ryuk says, eyeing the lifespan above Light's head hungrily, "how is a God supposed to rule anything when he has nothing to do?"

Light's eyes widen. He's completely silent.

Ryuk jumps from the railing, smiling from ear to ear.

"Well, just think about it," he says, leaving Light to stand out on the roof alone. "Those apples are sounding pretty good right about now."

The shinigami disappears without a second thought. He really should get a paid bonus sometime. He's too good at his job. He can almost taste the life seeping right out of that boy.

Another clash of thunder sounds from outside. It starts to pour.

Light eyes the city—his city—and thinks,

Do I really want to rule this world alone?