Now listen,
Please listen,
Understand what I say....
Looking back, they were nothing alike.
The three people who had managed to stand out among the countless other criminals L had caught and convicted. The first one had been Beyond Birthday. He was a mirror image of L himself, an L that could or might have been. He was also the single remaining thread that tied L to his childhood. L was a detective who needed to quickly analyze large amounts of information in very little time. There was no need for irrelevant information, and there were certainly no need for emotions. L was a genius at forgetting. He needed to forget, he forced himself to do so. But when the murders sprang up across Los Angeles it was like the past had slapped him in the face. And there was B again, just as he remembered.
Beyond was a man of forethought, each murder carefully constructed, each clue intentionally placed. He liked games because he liked the adrenaline. Weaving the web around your enemy and never really knowing, but knowing enough. He liked games even more because he liked winning, so he didn't bother to be very subtle in his motives. It was more fun when the victims were able to catch on and play along too, because playing alone is never really much fun. But he was a wild, aggressive man, and therefore unpredictable in his actions. L had won of course. He had always been number one back in Wammy's House. It had never really been much of a question, who would come out on top (although B claimed he had never been submissive to even a traffic signal). In the end B's actions were really nothing more than a desperate plea for attention from the man he had obsessed over, leaving L just a little disappointed. And then, in an outstanding display of irony, B had been killed by Light and his Death Note.
Light was the second person who still haunted L's dreams. He had been the child of middle-upper class parents, another genius of self-righteous satisfaction. He was also the most arrogant person L had ever met (After all, L had been Justice, but Light, Light was God). Light was the self-restrained type, carefully in control, proper and polite. Nobody really knew his true nature, although few ever really wondered over it. L was the one who had seen the most of Light's true personality, although he certainly hadn't asked for the privilege or so desired of it.
Sometimes L felt like he had failed in some way. B and Light were the closest he had ever been to anyone, and oh, it really was a paradox when he thought about it. Because although it was his job to prove them guilty of their crimes, sometimes he felt like he was just damning them straight to hell. If they were friends... could he save them? Was it okay not to be alone? Maybe it was because he saw good in them... maybe he really did. But deep down L knew it was only for himself that he'd wanted B and Light to not be so evil. But the law is the law and L always stops at traffic lights, so he continued his tired old work. And sure enough, L came out on top. He didn't intend for Light to die. Dying is the easy way out and L needed to lock Light up where he could always keep an eye on him, and maybe they could talk sometimes. But Light was killed by Ryuuk, and so the chain of death continued.
And now L is staring at the third person to have stood out, across a monitor. Except unlike B and Light, he is still very much alive and unbroken. His name is Uchiha Itachi, and he has red eyes. They're somewhat disturbing, but it's nothing new to L after B's eyes. (He's a genius at forgetting they say, but in reality he will never forget that face). L clicks on the speaker. Itachi is in a cell in part of L's investigative building, much like the one Light stayed in for those fifty or so days. They seem so long ago now...
"Itachi-kun..."
Itachi looks up at the camera in the corner of his cell, where he knows L is watching him. "Ryuuzaki," he says in return.
"Itachi-kun must not like his family," L says, cutting straight to the point. There really isn't any need for a "how's it going?" and L isn't one for pleasantries.
"What makes you say that Ryuuzaki?"
L puts a thumbnail to his lips, watching the Uchiha's empty, expressionless face with frightening intensity.
"You killed them, Itachi-kun, have you forgotten?"
"No, I remember quite well."
"Is that a confession?" L deadpans.
"Yes Ryuuzaki. I believe we've been over this before."
And they have, nearly every day for the past month and a half, sometimes even as frequently as twice a day. It's always the same routine, the conversation ending after Itachi has confessed. Obviously though, L isn't satisfied with just a confession. The teen is guilty with or without one anyway. Because Itachi did not even try to cover up his crime. No, L doesn't need to be a genius to figure out Itachi is the one guilty of the vicious massacre of his family and friends. It is starkly, eerily obvious. So startlingly blatant that it has to mean something. It had, however, taken a genius to track down Itachi's location and bring him here. There was an irony in the way Itachi was so eager to take credit for his actions but so quick to disappear when such actions might hold repercussions. The irony does not escape L's attention. All criminals are like that, never willing to take responsibly for their actions.
L sighs. Usually now he clicks off the speaker, grabs something sweet from the fridge (because everything else in this world is so bitter), and wanders off to sit in front of his laptop somewhere. L thinks best in front of laptops, late at night, and badly craving sleep. Usually he mulls over any of his current cases, but recently he has found himself becoming more and more fascinated with Itachi. And L doesn't like to admit it, but these thoughts rarely have to do with the case anymore. It's those sanguine eyes, the pupils like spinning commas. They're beautiful, like B. It's so hard to forget.
But today… today isn't going to be like other days.
