The shivers are only just beginning, to set in, when Light walks in. L stays still, he watches Light small talk, come, here, he thinks instead of answering. He has luck, Yagami never backs down from a challenge, he remembers.
The imaginary clocks are ringing again, he lowers his head, feels rain drops falling down his clothes, falling down his face, wet hair clinging to him, as Light talks. And actor on stage, a painter given his brush, L muses.
Now what would that brush be?
He mentions the clocks, 'The bells are incredibly loud today', watches Lights reaction, awaits, Show me, Epitome of masquerade. Light is perfect, just like the last few, days, or, years -how long has it been?- since he somehow changed back again. It is perfect, like always.
He can't avoid the conversation any longer, L decides.
The inside is warmer, the walls scream 'home', like no other place L remembers for a very long time. This place will stay 'home', will be the last one, he knows. The lack of time will prove him right.
L watches Light watching him, thinking, sleep, thinking, over soon. He feels unbelievably tired, overused, as they sit down on the stone steps, and he asks himself when this feeling came to be so, familiar. When have I decided, to give up?
'It will be lonely, won't it?', he is sure Light is scared there, for a moment, the surprise and confusion prove him right, when nothing else can. 'You and I will be parting ways soon.' There are traces of bitterness and saddness in his voice, in the plain words, which both choose to ignore for the sake of staying
-sane-
a safe distance away. When has this become more than, just a game? When has the grand prize changed? They both know; now, winning is only a charade.
L presses his towel to Lights skin, 'It is the least I can do to atone for my sins.' For giving up, giving, into it. For leaving the world, behind, now.
And Lights feet are symbolising his soul, he thinks, better than his eyes ever could; they are icy cold and stinging to L's touch.
Peaceful.
When his phone rings, L is ready for, almost, everything, he thinks. The goodbye is feeling right, just, like it never has before, never will again.
Peaceful.
He stands up, Light is watching him, carefully, obvious, but it doesn't matter now, anymore, does it? L's task is almost over, he can stop observing. The world doesn't have the right to judge him anymore.
Peaceful.
He is ready, as he walks down the last flight of steps, Goodbye, Light, it was a pleasure, meeting you.
He looks up at Light, once more, just sees him without analysing, without really, seeing. L smiles softly, thinking, sleep, again, thinking, over soon, now, he watches, and he sees Light for the very first time.