A/N: So. My first Fanfiction…anywhere. I am very wary indeed….and the only way to remedy that is…reviews!
Disclaimer: I don't own Death Note. (Well. In MY world I do…)
He'd always heard voices.
L sat in semi-darkness, knees tucked under his chin, staring at his laptop. But this time, he wasn't thinking about the Kira case.
He was talking to the voices.
Voices...during the day, he tuned them out; compassion, emotion. Feelings were irrelevant; they only slowed and blinded his reasoning. And reasoning was all he needed, for his job. And was his job not most important?
But they'd been fainter every time he called them back. Every time he'd used his reasoning against them. They'd subdued, one by one; retreated where he knew they'd not come back from. But not a single one spoke now.
He was distracted by a sound from the other side of the bed. A dream-induced whimper. A plea, even. A confession? Borne, no doubt, from when they'd played during the day. 'Played' meaning that Light was played with; his mind turned upon itself; led around in circles and worn down, with the constant knowledge that it would be the same, day after day. Circles. And when be fell? He'd be dragged. Through that same pattern, until there was nothing left to wear down.
But that was the point, wasn't it? Feelings could not get in the way of this, of anything. The chain clinked as he brought his thumb to his mouth.
And then he realised. Lowering his hand, he picked the chain up between thumb and forefinger, and followed it, with his eyes, to the ring of cold metal around his wrist.
When he locked the handcuffs, he'd locked away the last voice.
His conscience.