He was walking down a long, curvy road, chasing the deductive quantities, and the percentiles. There were calculations blooming in mass quantities in lush fields, and the evidence flowed in torrential black rapids. The air smelled sweet with innocence, and the ravenous fires burned with indisputable guilt. He liked to skip in this fantasy. Something he'd never do in that other world. Here was where he loved to be. Here in his dreams.

For in his dreams, is where, in the end, he's wrong. All the evidence is wrong.

And what he knows is… Reality's a curse.

In the silence screams the white noise. The mechanic tick of the clock; the electronic hum of the computers; the molecular ring of the monitors; the slow whistle of his breath; Yes. He was still alive.

Not that L wanted to be. He'd rather Raito Yagami just kill him now. He honestly could not take it anymore.

It might've been because Yagami was his first best friend, or just a friend in general. It also could've been because Raito was extremely smart. Or, it could be because of the fact Raito was deathly handsome—Literally. He was Kira., and somehow, that made him all the more intriguing.

L was raised to fight evil. His mentality was programmed and trained for the better good. Yet somehow, years of inculcation were forgotten with just a sound, an utterance of the young boy's suave words. L knew this wasn't just because of him being a sterling murderer of hundreds; He'd always been this way. He'd always been so irresistible. He'd always been… So untouchable. For L, at least.

Somehow, humanity forgot L. He was the absolute image of nonexistence. For one thing, it was impossible for any human being to survive his diet, and for another, it was anatomically inconceivable for any being of the same species to have his posture.

But where humanity deserted him most was right in the center of his being—His heart. His first time to even experience the feeling of this thing he thought so arbitrary, humanity left the poor creature out to freeze in the icy hurricane of Raito's hate, and outright aversion. All along he thought that he had no emotion, that he had no love, that he simply did not have the capacity for feeling anything other than logic. Yet, here he was, in his normal absurdity of a posture, sucking on his thumb while staring at Raito (with a guise any actor would kill over) and undressing him with his eyes.