Aficionado
By: Strange and Intoxicating -rsa-
Author Notes: This is a Death Note/Final Fantasy VII Crossover. It has major spoilers all through both series. I suggest that if you do not want to be spoiled, that you do not read until you have competed the series. In addition, there will be language and gore (no sex), and this will probably not contain any pairings. Thus, if you are looking for a quick fix, this probably isn't it. I know, as a predominately yaoi writer, this is something that may come as a shock, but I really can't foresee any pairings because this isn't a romance. It's a thriller/action/adventure.
PS: Don't get on my case about blasphemy and taking about God. I grew up in the Catholic Church and am now (happily) an Agnostic. I'm not dissing your religion or anything of the sort, but this story kind of calls for some form of religious background regarding L. As it was pretty explicit in the manga/anime that L was raised as a Catholic before Whammy's, and possibly after, he may occasionally talk about that. I think that L is probably an Atheist with some traditions as prayer ground into his subconscious. The prayer at the end signifies this, I think, the most.
Disclaimer: I, Strange and Intoxicating -rsa-, do not own Death Note or Final Fantasy VII (or their compilations/spin-offs). This is a work based on too many hours of class work and the inability to play well with other children.
Prologue: Dictum
L felt the hand of death wrap around his throat, cold and painful. After twenty-five years on earth, never truly caring of his own mortality, that hand accompanied a sense of dread and fear. Was this it--a damn Shinigami's hand hovering over a Death Note, a book that could take life indiscriminately? Was every case, every life, every hour that ticked by without sleep and every sugar cube just something pointless, an attempt to pretend that life wasn't as fleeting as he knew it was?
Light Yagami… L couldn't even hate the boy, so lost inside his own mind that the sick, perverted fantasy of regality, of controlling the entire world as a god, seemed possible. He was just so twisted. L wondered if it was one of the effects of using the Death Note--a lack of humanity, of sanity. By all understanding of the Death Note (which hadn't been much, because L was dying now and knew that only a day with a Shinigami wasn't enough to allow him any true understanding of an object that seemed as mythical as the Holy Grail of the Christian faith, the Mecca of all of death's workers), L knew nothing of the consequences.
That wasn't entirely true, L surmised as he felt his fragile heart give a painful thump.
Mu.
That was right. L remembered those few words in the Death Note, ones that light Yagami probably hadn't cared too much for. He believed that this power, the power of killing all those who dared to interfere with his plans for world domination through fear-mongering, was enough to sacrifice his very soul for. Mu, the place where there was an eternity of nothingness. That was where Light would end up, curled like a fetus in the whirling winds of black. With hell, at least there was something, the pain that you waged over the world would be enough to haunt you for eternity. Nothingness, however, meant that you would be trapped within yourself, which was far worse than any hell, damnation or brimstone.
Nothingness.
Mu.
He knew from the beginning that he had lost his own soul, that neither heaven nor hell, or the fantasy of the human mind would be able to occupy him. He thought that it would not matter, in the end. He honestly believed in his ability to fight off death, to stop all from writing his name in their Death Note. A Shinigami, perhaps even Rem needing the extra soul life. Or there was another Shinigami that trailed after Light who will soon take his life. There was more than one notebook in the human world, for that I am… (Was?) certain. He will die, that is one hundred percent guaranteed.
L wanted to laugh, to sneer in the boy's face. His first friend, the mass murderer. His friend, the murdered. He wanted to see the boy's morbid death at the hands of another, just for Light. Even if he couldn't blame Light Yagami for all the blood on his hands (in his pen), the boy was guilty with sin, as bright as his sneering smile.
It won't matter in a minute, not for me, L thought as he attempted to suck in a breath, only to feel it rattle against his teeth. There was wetness in his mouth. Blood, no doubt, probably caused by hemorrhaging blood vessels in his body. It didn't bother him as much as the coldness. Even though he knew it was warm, so warm (like tea and sugar, L thought with a hint of melancholy), it may as well have been ice.
And Light Yagami held onto him in his last stages of death, through the slight shaking and hacking of blood across his pale cheeks, the bridge of his nose. That maniac smile was spread wide, even while spittle and red dripped down his face like a smear on a canvas.
L felt his face go flush and he took in his last breath. He didn't know exactly how he was aware that it would be his last, except that it simply was. Eyes going droopy, it was almost like going to sleep terrified of night terrors under his bed as a small child. His nurturing in the Catholic Church made him want to say a prayer, a prayer for his soul, one that would enter either heaven or hell; a prayer for the night terrors to keep away.
Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned. It has been almost fifteen years since my last confession.
A drip of fluid slid across his forehead.
I accuse myself of the following sins.
Light Yagami's face was distorting into the ceiling, a brown stain with red eyes.
I have betrayed others and myself. I have caused deaths in the name of justice. I have withheld information from the Church and the People. I have watched the deaths of countless men and women, and did nothing, even though I knew in my heart of the perpetrator. I have allowed monsters to grow and claim the false name of God.
There was something in L's eyes.
I have denied the existence of God in the name of Justice, in the name of myself.
His lids fluttered.
I do not feel guilty in regards to my actions, Father. I have attempted to prevent deaths, even if it was for selfish reasons. I am no saint. I will never be a saint. I do not want to be a saint, Father.
L attempted to suck in another breath, but his mouth and lungs wouldn't work. His heart, thrumming in his chest cavity, felt as though it was exploding. The colors of Light's face swam in front of him, but there was no anchor to the real world. There was only the pain blossoming in his chest. Something tickled against his chin, probably Light's hair. He had a flare for the dramatics, more so when it regarded Kira. Normal school boys had no reason to be dramatic and noxiously caricaturized.
Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned, and I don't think that I care.
But would you do it again, if given the chance? It was almost as if the words were spoken into his very core, a whisper of L Lawliet's subconscious. It reminded him of his mother's voice as she pet his hair behind his ear before church on Sunday mornings. It was that warmth.
I would.
L's eyes finally fell shut, and the pain from his heart, the blood in his mouth, the swirling of colors and the brush of Light Yagami's hair against his cheek faded away into nothing.
Death is the world's greatest fear, but it only feels like fading away.
This is merely the prologue. The chapters will get much longer as the story goes on, though I highly doubt that it will be a Tenacity in length. Anyway, I am excited on opinions on this chapter, and am looking for a beta who may be interested in giving it a look over for me. Con-crit is really appreciated!
Please Review!