Title: Separate Ways
Rating: K
Characters: Light, L
Disclaimer: I don't own Death Note or the lyrics to the song "Because I knew you"
Warning: Double genderswitch (girl!L, girl!Light), spoilers for episode 25
A/N: I've been feeling very dark as of late (blame The Bartimaeus Trilogy) and I just needed to get some things off my chest. Only a brighter note, I'm starting to love writing again :).
I've heard it said
That people come into our lives for a reason
Bringing something we must learn
And we are led
To those who help us most to grow
If we let them
And we help them in return
Well, I don't know if I believe that's true
But I know I'm who I am today
Because I knew you...
It well may be
That we will never meet again
In this lifetime
So let me say before we part
So much of me
Is made of what I learned from you
You'll be with me
Like a handprint on my heart
And now whatever way our stories end
I know you have re-written mine
By being my friend...
Like a ship blown from its mooring
By a wind off the sea
Like a seed dropped by a skybird
In a distant wood
Who can say if I've been
Changed for the better?
I do believe I have been
Changed for the better
And because I knew you
Because I knew you
Because I knew you
I have been changed for good
Kristin Chenoweth & Idina Mendez, "Because I knew you"
OST - Wicked
"Say hello to Kitty for me." Jonathan Stroud, Ptolemy's Gate
The rain is beating down mercilessly on L's face. It comes like a hail of arrows, falling on her skin like pebbles almost painfully. It should hurt but she is too numb. It's like she's been pulled under water by an ominous creature (a mermaid, and not like the ones you see on Disney cartoons; this one's harsh and hungry for human flesh), and the world above has been dulled out like the low beat drums. A part of her is struggling to surface. Another part is quite content to sink to the bottom of the river/sea/ocean, whichever water body catches her fancy.
She has never been one to feel comfortable whilst swimming. The tranquil pools, reflecting the gleaming white lights above, always seem too constricting, too restraining, as opposed to flexible and fluid. She feels more comfortable on dry land (even hesitating to shower: Light's harsh reprimands still ring in her ears) where there is no cool thickness enveloping her person.
She is looking up at something, and yet not seeing. It's as though her eyes, misty and black, have hazed over like an old woman's and suddenly, she feels more tired, more defeated than usual. All the events that have led to this play in her mind, a broken record turning like a wheel. It is over and she is cold with the numbness from the finality of it all.
How...temporary these fleeting pleasures in life are that when one enjoys them, when one is caught up in the moment, one cannot help but dread that sooner or later, these little grains of happiness will slip down in the hourglass and one will be left with nothing.
And it feels like nothing. Because nothing has happened. Because nothing has truly changed.
Because everything has changed.
"What are you doing out here, Ryuuzaki?" a stern, curious voice demands from the entrance to the roof.
Dully, L turns her head – it is a lethargic and reluctant movement, for she was better left alone – and finds Light standing under the protection of an extended ceiling. Her cinnamon eyes are narrowed into slits and she is holding up a hand to shield them (but from what?).
She stares at the younger woman blankly; she is no mood for this. No mood to be needled with endless questions, a demand to explain herself and search for mind-racking explanations about how Kira is still killing even after they caught Higuchi.
But Light knows...doesn't she?
L can see it in those slits. Those suspicious serpentine slits that were gone for three months (why does it seem like three years all of a sudden?), but are now back with sudden ferocity, sudden thirst...a thirst for blood.
"What are you doing out here, Ryuuzaki?"
Despite herself, the detective smiles and cups a hand to her ear, making a gesture as though she's straining to listen to Light. This is unnecessary; she heard the first time.
With an exasperated sigh, Light makes her way out, like Macbeth wading through a river of blood (the image is disturbing in L's mind), and getting drenched in the rain.
Good. Now they are in the same element.
Light comes closer and L shoves her hands in her pockets where little ponds have accumulated, looking away sullenly.
"What are you doing here?" The question is spoken with more softness and concern now.
"Oh, it's nothing particular. I hear the bells." The dark-haired woman looks up.
Light is confounded. "What bells?"
"You can't hear them, then?" L turns to look at Light. "I find them very distracting. I wonder if it's a wedding, or a...." her sentence trails off. Maybe she doesn't want to continue because of her own fear.
"Stop it, Ryuuzaki." And there she is, this chit of a girl, always frank, always practical, never sugar-coating her words. "Let's go back inside."
Ah, Light, ever the strong one, ever practical and objective, down to facts.
L will always miss her. Always miss the conversations they had in late nights when they were tucked into bed like two children, laughing and sharing secrets and jokes. They sleep separately now and she is filled with a void which itself would never be filled. And perhaps for the first time, she sees how young the other woman actually is.
Nineteen is such a young age, a point when you're no longer a girl and not yet a woman, and Light acts like she knows it all (in some ways, she probably does) She's in that stage, L thinks, where you feel like dreams can become reality, where the world is filled possibilities and you can just go out there and do something and everything will fall into place, just like that! You can afford to be a dreamer, a thinker, a revolutionary destined to do something grand like...change the course of human history and bring order to chaos as easily as setting the table or washing the dishes or something mundane like that.
In her mind's eye, L sees Light as she knew her briefly – beautiful and kind and warm and open, not this shell, this husk of a human being that parades in the auburn-haired girl's guise like a demon possessing a material body.
She imagines them as two souls tumbling into the pits of hell, grappling together in hatred because coexistence, although it is a nice thought, a warm blanket on a cold night, is impossible and one will never compromise oneself for the other, because if you don't stand up for what you believe in, then why wear those convictions like ornaments?
They coexisted harmoniously for some time, except for the occasional tiffs. Perhaps L was expecting Light to change. Or Light was expecting L to change. Something to keep the friendship as long as possible.
Three months is up and Light has been roused from her deep sleep by a demon's kiss and now she doesn't want anything to do with L any longer. L feels sad, rejected, a doll cast aside by a feisty girl who has now found better toys to play with.
Here, wet and cold in the rain, she wishes that she could hold Light one more time. Feel the brush of that luxuriant brown hair against her pale skin, smell the strawberries and milk and honey from the tresses, look into those once-wide, innocent brown eyes that used to be filled with dedication and good will.
Only you could be the one to let go first and make yourself look like the victim.
L smiles cynically to herself. If Light has seen this, she makes no remark.
"Tell me, have you ever told the truth since the day you were born?"
Clearly, the question has caught Light off-guard, the way it did when L showed up out of the blue and revealed her true identity. All of that feels years ago.
"What are you saying, Ryuuzaki? It's true that I've stretched the truth here and there but everyone does that. And besides, I've made a point never to lie to the ones I love."
Then I wish you would stop lying to me.
Light has never looked as hideous as she does now. To L, she is no longer beautiful. Elegant, maybe. Admirable, even. But not beautiful. That beauty was gone the very night Higuchi died.
"Hmm." L nods pensively and looks away. Are there tears on her face? They're mingling with rainwater. You better be thankful that Light can't see them, or she'd laugh at you.
"Let's go inside," Light's voice is warm and coaxing now, an amazing contrast to the cold depths of her dark eyes. "It's cold out here."
They are in the silence of the landing now, the walls tall, the ceiling high above them like the world on Atlas's shoulders. Light is wearing dry clothes and sitting barefoot on the steps, towelling dry her chestnut hair, her movements almost feline.
L comes to slouch behind her, a damn towel hanging limply on her hair. She gazes wide-eyed at the younger woman. "Well, we took quite a drench out there, didn't we?" she remarks, an almost desperate attempt to lighten the silence.
"It's your fault," says Light indignantly. "If it hadn't been for you, this wouldn't have happened."
The dark-haired detective is cowed. "You're right," she mutters. "I'm sorry."
While Light is still drying herself adamantly, L pads forwards and kneels before her, taking one slender, lightly tawny foot in her hand. She starts rubbing.
Light's eyes fly open, startled, scandalised. "What are you doing?" she demands to know. Perhaps she even glances around to check if anyone's watching, so careful and stealthy she is.
"You looked like you were having a hard time drying yourself," L explains patiently, her pale fingers moving over the foot in her palms. "So I thought I would help out."
"There's no need for that..." Light starts to protest.
"I can give you a foot massage. And besides, I'm very good at it, too."
Cinnamon eyes narrow again, Light's version of a discontent pout, and she turns away like a petulant child. "Fine," she concedes. "Do what you want."
"Okay." L is more than happy and they lapse back into silence.
How easily things falls apart and crumble to dust under your feet, when everything you've known and loved can slip away at the moment of death while you watch on helplessly.
Light is calmer now, jumping a little when L's thumb finds a sensitive spot in the arch of her foot (and she has such nice feet) and L keeps looking down, intent on her task, not even noticing the droplets of water falling from her raven fringes.
This time, she looks up startled as Light reaches out to towel her hair dry. "Thank you," she says quietly and goes back to her task.
What is it that Shakespeare said? Parting is such sweet sorrow. And how easy it is for her to now choose separate ways from the girl. Well, not easy. Just...not messy. If they were lovers, then this is how it would happen:
L would observe Light's actions, listen to her sprouting opinions like she knew everything about everything, make a comment or two about Misa. She would linger on until the younger woman's company was no longer bearable (and what do you do then?). And then, unbeknownst to Light, she would pack her things and move them out out one by one in the dead of the night, like an ant preparing for migration. Early one morning, L would slip out of the house, just before sunrise, without making a sound, without saying anything to Light. She would simply close the door softly behind her and walk away. And Light, she would notice in a day or two that L's clothes were no longer in the closet they'd shared for so long; L's Macbook was gone and so were her worn-out sneakers. She wouldn't even make a fuss, being so calm and composed. With a certain sombreness, she would change the lock on the door, erase in her life all traces that she ever knew L (the older woman would do the same thing, wouldn't she?), so that even if L tried her old key – just out of curiosity – she would know that she was no longer welcome.
But that suits L just fine. After all, she can safely blame it all on Light, can't she?
It's all your damn fault.
Light with her undaunted ambition, her probing questions, her need to make a difference that would ultimately make no difference. She has always been about crossing the line, and not even in a good way.
And she crossed the line with L long ago, didn't she?
But even after all this – after all the hurt and pain and rage and resentment, the taking of thousands of lives (how magnificent you are, Lady Kira, for knowing no remorse), L will feel like an amputee when Light is gone. She already knows that she will wake up often with the brown-eyed girl as the first thing on her mind; she will miss that musical laughter, those sincere smiles, cinnamon puppy-dog eyes admiring the detective's skills.
You will watch me and you will learn from me and then you will be better than me. And the whole world will know you in my stead and I will be forgotten.
"It will be lonely, won't it?" L muses sadly, still rubbing Light's feet.
Light looks down at her in sharp confusion, distrust evident in her face, showing that she doesn't understand what the older woman means.
Of course you don't. You're so in love with your own ideals that you never see how you cause pain to others.
And Light is such that she feels no remorse. Either that, or she sees where she has gone wrong and tries to justify it anyway.
"It'll soon be time to say goodbye." L stares up into the once-warm now-cold brown eyes. How full of adoration they used to be, back when Light still loved her.
I've failed you, haven't I? And in return, you've failed me.
Light looks like she wants to say something but she is struggling with herself. And now, struggle is futile in the wake of what is evident, what will soon come to pass, the move that L has been forced to make.
Their moment is interrupted by the shrill ring of L's cell phone. She stands up and answers it. "Yes, Watari," she says. She listens. Light watches, brow creased, wanting desperately to know what is going on.
L nods a few moments later, pockets the cell phone, and turns to the suspicious Light. "Come on," she says. "Things may turn out fine, after all."
But all that's over now. L's slipped away from this world and now lies six feet under, finally at peace. Light is on her way to creating the perfect world out of the ashes of the old one, without a thought or care. (And even if she does think of the past once in a while, she lets Misa's mindless chatter drown it out. It is useful for such situations.)
Still, her heart feels hungry and empty, even when things seem to falling into place so perfectly for her, she can't help but feel that there is something – someone – missing from her life.
A/N: I usually hate sad endings but here it is. I've written girl!L+girl!Light only once before but I'm planning a fic album for them, based on Mylene Farmer's Point de Suture. Also, I've used to spelling Light instead of my usual Raito. If I recally correctly, I used Light only the first 3 DN fics I wrote. Anyhow, I hope you enjoyed reading this and do let me know!