Disclaimer: I don't own Death Note. It's sad. It's very sad. But it's true.
What does 'L' stand for?
A long time ago, if this question had been posed, L himself would have replied: 'Lonely', and given a rough percentage of how it defined his life.
L had been very Lonely as a child. He had been the sort of continually troubled youth who, addled by his own existence, contemplated it time and time again before a mirror with his thumb popped broodingly in his mouth and a teddy-bear tucked underarm. Was he a genius just because he was a genius? Or did the worLd inject the genius into him, pumping out the normality like an invisible parasite, denying him any chance of making friends? Ever?
That was the cynicism of a six-year-old mastermind. A detective to-be.
It was shortly before L's fifth birthday that he began to realize how different he was. It didn't matter to him that he was better. He'd never been egocentric – he just accepted it. He just accepted that his sandcastles looked like mini-palaces in contrast to other infants' shapeless heaps. That he had memorized half the dictionary while many couldn't yet decipher letters of the alphabet. That he had grasped the limits of trigonometry before anyone else his age had managed 2 + 2.
It was 'just because he was a genius'. That was all. He was different, and special, and he never lost to anyone.
He was L.
Then came the day, perhaps a year or so later, that bliss-filled bubble was popped.
"Hello, L," he was saying to his reflection, smiling a crooked but childlike smile as he admired his new hat. Watari had given it to him as a present. It was a very nice hat. It was big and black. "You look cool. When you're a detective, everyone will think you're really cool. You'll scare all of the bad people away, and all of the good people will want to be your friend."
The adults had taken that moment to interfere. They made him understand. They said to him: "No, L. You won't make friends. People won't see you. Anyone could be your enemy. The world is filled with crime, and people who will want to hurt you. No, L, you won't make friends."
Being L felt very Lonely then.
L felt cut off from everyone else, and he hadn't felt that way before. He felt compelled to practice being L in ways that secluded him from people, even as an infant. Soon, his social life extended no further beyond his subordinates. None were keen to supplement everyday conversation – why would they, when they were at work?
You'd say that L was one of a kind, but in reality, he's a regular workaholic. He just has a load of idiosyncrasies that he is aware of developing but doesn't care for – mostly because no one is ever around him to comment, partly because L is L.
Then he began the Kira case.
It was a...different sort of case.
When combing through the world's citizens in a search for a mass-murderer exposed Light Yagami as a prime suspect...L hadn't planned to befriend him. Not as such. Not genuinely. He had made it clear from the start that their companionship was purely on a basis of professional matters.
...It was so nice, though. To 'hang out' with someone of around his own age. With someone who could set a challenge for him and work with him as an equal. Even though they were currently handcuffed together, and L had more than a sneaking feeling that Light was one of the people trying to hurt him...fatally...it felt like a friendship.
L remembered the time when he thought L meant Lonely. It would always have its Lonely moments. But L could stand for so many things – including his real name, as it happened – and in the end, it meant no more than a barrier defending his secrets and a satisfying air of mysteriousness.
"Light-kun?"
Light was forking a plate of cake uninterestedly, eyes on a computer screen. "Yeah?"
"After all this is over, will you come to a hat shop with me?"
Light froze. He swivelled around in his chair, meeting L's wide, expectant, dark-ringed eyes.
"...Is that your messed up way of admitting I'm no longer suspected...?"
"No. Certainly not. But if this is covered up and you aren't Kira, then will you?"
Grimacing, Light turned back, unwilling to reply. Putting his index finger to his bottom lip, L contemplated what to say or offer in encouragement. Cheering Light up would be a start. He was incessantly gloomy – even sugar didn't help. It only served to make him burst into peals of laughter from time to time, for no reason whatsoever, which was a very disquieting form of happy.
"...Would you like a consoling hug?"
"No, thank you."
Feeling only a little rejected, L assumed his trademark position on the opposing chair, hugging his knees to his chest instead.
He supposed being able to be a workaholic with his first ever friend was nice too. While it lasted.
Lo and behold, my first attribute to the Death Note fanbase! Makes me all warm and fuzzy inside to write it. T'was a little rushed, though. Hope all the facts are straight...don't kill me...
It also happens to be my first post on this site. I don't know how this system works, ahahahahaha...! Yeah, never mind.
Miss Yeti