A/N: My first oneshot experiment. I wanted something that could potentially leave an impression, and this was one of the first few ideas that came up.
Summary: L ponders about his role in society and, ironically, the injustice of it all. Oneshot.
Disclaimer: I do not have ownership of Death Note. All credit rightfully belongs to Tsugumi Ohba and Takeshi Obata.
Unfairness
One of many countless things that people didn't understand was that being the world's greatest detective did not mean you were invincible. Everyone had their faults and that meant they were susceptible to destruction. Life was like a game, a little indulgence for all of us to enjoy. It gave us choices and depending on what you chose, you would walk down a path similar to some but also different from others. Though eventually, everyone would face the same fate; death.
So what satisfaction did he, the famed L, gain from owning that title? Maybe it was the knowledge that he could demand respect from the higher-ups and officials, maybe it was because he fit the role so perfectly, or maybe it was because he liked to think he was always right when it came to justice, crimes and solving cases. And to be honest, he didn't believe in the afterlife, nor was he religious. The world seemed to be so insecure to have created make-believe royalty and spend a lifetime worshipping them.
Was that why criminals did the things they did? Did they also believe that there was no afterlife? That there was no god to judge them? Evidently, L and the criminals that littered across the globe had chosen different paths despite their mutual opinion. While he fought for justice and righteousness, criminals robbed the world of its innocence, only to give corruption in return.
During childhood, L use to think that he was giving a lot to the world by dedicating his life to assist the uphold of the law and letting the years he could've spent playing with other children and making…friends, waste away. He had thought his dedication was admirable, and maybe he would receive a "thank you" from the world. Though all he got was more pressure and high expectations, which he could handle, but he would still be waiting for that act of graciousness.
As he gazed through the window at the ant-like figures of the normal civilians below him, he wondered what it would be like to fit in, to not be a genius and have a life full of colours. But as hard as he tried to imagine, it wasn't possible because he was use to a life filled with life, death, blood, black, grey and white. It seemed as if there was no other place for him in society.
And then he thought that, perhaps, it really didn't matter what you did during life, because as soon as you faced your destined destruction, you would forget everything and become nothing. Even if you were the world's greatest detective.
Life was unfair that way.