L doesn't want to admit it, but sometimes he forgets that Yagami Light is a teenager.
Perhaps it is the investigation clouding his everyday thoughts or the fact that all evidence pointed to the Japanese young man as Kira. However, bias against the young man shouldn't have been an excuse to forget something so trivial. It is his job to keep track of all things pertinent to investigation. In fact, one of the profiling attributes that Kira had is his childishness, pointing to a high school or college student. Light had more than fit the bill.
And yet.
Yet, L sometimes forgets that the young man chained to his side is in fact someone six years his junior. There's almost a lifetime of experience that separates L's pragmatic view of the world to Light's ideals and it's something that L never really thinks about. Light is clever. Too clever to be part of some investigation that could yield so much more results if he was simply not too clever and too damned deluded by his own visions of reality…
But he's honestly rambling now.
"L...do you think that god exists?"
However, L can and will willingly admit that he finds Light's inquiries and ideas sort of satisfying, almost as if he was a small puppy trying to get his master's attention. When the investigation's hours have long become hard and strenuous, when the afternoon's rays of dying sun have lapsed into the inky darkness impaled by the embrace of moon, Light leans back in his chair and just talks.
Sometimes, he talks about his school. Sometimes, he talks about his sister and how proud he is of her. It's honestly something that L has never thought about before. He was never raised to be empathetic or thinking about those who were untouched by crime. He is simply a tool, a machine to capture criminals and to solve mysteries. It's been a while since a case has reached out to him like this. It feels like the Kira Investigation is slowly consuming his very core, taking over his life.
Still, L doesn't think about the consequences of indulging Light in this.
After all, he is nothing but a teenager with failed delusions of godhood at best.
At worst…
L takes a sip of lukewarm coffee. "I'm not a religious man, Light. If a god were to exist, he is definitely not at all pleased by Kira's efforts."
Light hums. And then he gets a glint in his eye, almost as if they are playing chess and he's about to capture L's rook with a bishop. "Are you sure? What about a vengeful god?"
L shrugs. Such ideas and rhetoric has never concerned him.
Light, mistaking his reticence for irritation, quickly adds on to his question. "Wouldn't you like to be a god? Or have the powers of one?"
Again, L shrugs. "Wouldn't having the powers of a god and being a god be one in the same? Perhaps you should get some sleep; your drowsiness is affecting your speech."
This time, it is Light who doesn't answer.
A small part of L wants to laugh. He knew long before he had introduced himself to the teen that he was childish and easily provoked. To see it in action in the midst of an investigation that they were currently ignoring in favor of some sort of...philosophical discussion is oddly ironic. However, another part of L feels slighted by Light's inability to mature, to stop with such foolish questioning.
They should have gone to sleep hours ago.
"I apologize," L starts, which seems to perk up his partner a bit, "that was uncalled for." L takes a bite out of some leftover cheesecake that has been drizzled with now congealed toppings of chocolate sauce before facing the Japanese teen once more. "To have the powers of a god? What powers do you think gods have?"
"Are you asking because you want to give me a better answer? Or are you asking because you don't want to answer at all?" It's a rude thing to say in the presence of a world renowned detective, but L has to give credit where credit is due. Even he likes to have subordinates who gave as good as what they got in terms of verbal sparring.
"A little bit of both if I'm being honest."
Light shakes his head, as if fondly exasperated by L's non committal answer. "To have power and influence over the general populace. The power to make people follow you on command, to never question your word." The brunet shrugs, his interest in the conversation appearing to have waned.
It's a weak act, but L plays right into it.
It's a long night and he wants to be entertained for as long as possible.
"To have power? Influence? Command? If I didn't know any better, Light, I would say that you were describing me." Another bite of his favorite sweet. "Do you think of me as a god?"
"A better question: do you think of yourself as a god?"
L pauses, a scrutinizing look in his eyes as he dissects Light's words.
Really, this would have a been perfect moment to connect this back to the investigation. Light's questioning, his insistence to continue this inane conversation about god… L could easily use these tidbits of information to his advantage. At this point, L is willing to twist words and create implication just to get under the teen's skin.
He wants to peel back layers upon layers of Light's skin until Kira appears and then—
Ah, he's getting ahead of himself.
He still needs to answer the question.
Which is funny because he already answered.
He was asked a similar question once upon a time.
It was one of those days back then. Back when he was still somewhat invested in the lives of his successors. They were of little consequence to him. They were all bright in their own right, too clever and too intelligent for their own good. Some of them became leaders in their respective fields while others still headed to the underbelly of crime and stagnation. That was to be expected.
L had as much interest in those awaiting his death with bated breath as one would pay attention to a dust mote. They had their nannies, tutors, and Roger to look after them. Even Mr. Whammy deigned to have a glance at the children and to convince L to have an interview with them at least once.
.
.
.
"Do you think you embody the basic ideals of justice, Mr. L?"
Hushed laughter from the audience.
The crackle of audio as the person on the other side of the screen adjusted his microphone.
.
.
.
He could have said many things.
He could have said that investigations were done quicker and easier.
He could have said that his name alone stumped many criminals.
He could have said that because of his name, his power, he helped saved so many lives and brought criminals to justice.
Instead, he takes pause and thinks over the child's question. His gaze scans the heads of so many students, so many of them eager to take over his role as soon as he breathes his last.
He sees so many young lives being first taken and molded away for others' use due to their sheer intellect, and finally by his word and will that they be shaped into his specifications for successor.
To them, L isn't just a nameless face or a detective that holds the first three ranking positions across the globe.
He is their benefactor.
He is their cause.
He is their creator.
To them, with their eyes shining wide and cheeks plump with dimples smiles, he is a god.
And now, just as he had faced the crowd of prodigies he faces Light.
"I am as much of a god as much as you like to think of yourself as a human."
As Light rests his chin on his hand to contemplate and possibly offer another response, L turns back to his files.
The answer is quite simple, really. He was never either of those things.
He's just a monster and if that five percent chance has any meaning, then so is Light.