Quicksand II

by Xavier Ching

If it is tiring to love, it is exhausting to not love. Naomi believes it is easier to immerse into the quicksand than to get out of it. L has unknowingly pushed her to the point of no return.

65. Quicksand II

Ta. Ta. Ta. Ta.

It is a soothing sound, mellow and steady.

The sky is clear tonight, but the busy traffic mars the tranquillity. I lay there in stillness, feeling relaxed after all these years. I am finally not fighting it. And you know what, it actually feels refreshing, if not the constant sting.

I can feel it, the coolness on my skin. It envelops me as I gradually immerse into it. A smile, a genuine smile, may I add, evolves on my face. I hope this expression stays as long as possible. It makes me feel beautiful.

I wonder what his reaction will be when he finds out. It is selfish of me but he will deal with it just fine, I am sure. I want him to at least remember me. This is all I modestly ask for.

LnLnLnLnL

My face feels stingy.

I know I look ridiculous but let's not bother. I am ridiculous after all. Who gets her best friend killed because she failed to fire at the culprit? He may look like an inexperienced teenage boy but that does not mean that he could not be a seasoned killer.

I sit on the bed without taking my black dress off. The funeral was too much.

I have been getting better over the past two weeks. On the day Anna was shot, I broke down. I was hospitalised because of shock, devastation, remorse and whatever that grasped hold of me. I woke up 22 hours later. And for 2 days, I could not eat. All I could do was to stare into the wall and try not to replay that moment. I still see it sometimes, gunshot and the frozen fear on Anna's face. Four days after her death, I was discharged. And I took up the habit of boxing. The more violent, the better. I would provoke my opponents until they quit being soft on me. Men and their chivalry. They would hit me hard, real hard. And I would allow myself take the blows squarely.

Let them. Let them help me.

I wish people could stop telling me it was not my fault. They are well-intentioned but it still agitates me. I owe Anna and Winston. They were about to get married. Anna should have been trying on her wedding gown today.

'Naomi Misora.'

No one is supposed to be in the flat except me. Even though I am emotionally strained, I reckon I am at least capable of noticing a breakin. I feel my full vigilance returning. I look around my room. No one is here. And there is no trace of someone lurking in the corner.

My laptop. That voice. From the speaker.

No. This is not happening.

L. That gothic alphabet. On my screen.

'Nice to meet you,' says the computer generated monotone.

For the first time in two weeks, I feel a tiny spark growing in me. I coarsely mop away my tears. My face may still sting but I can feel warmth spreading through veins. I blink hard. Again. And again. My heart beat is picking up vitality.

'I am L. I can see that Misora-san seems pleased to hear from me.'

My eyes widen in astonishment. There is no way he is –

'Yes, I can see her right now. There is no need to look so surprised. And please allow the camera to stay. But from now on Misora-san may want to get changed in the bathroom instead.'

Dammit. How long has he been peeping?

'I would like Misora-san's assistance for the serial murders in Los Angeles. I believe she knows that case.'

Everyone knows. The crime is too clever and too brutal to be true. But requesting my assistance? Certainly he can have the best detective in FBI. It is an honour – a dream even – to work for L. This man is an enigmatic legend. God knows how many detectives idolise him.

I nod curtly.

'All the info of this case is available on the server. The link is in your mailbox. Misora-san can hack her way in. After digesting all the clues, call me. You will get my number from the server.'

I nod again. My throat is so tight that I cannot make any sound.

'Misora-san.'

I stare into the wall, contemplating ways of hacking into a server, as well as waiting for L to speak. But he remains silent for ten seconds.

'L?' I call hesitantly. This letter sounds foreign. But it enthrals me.

I wish he could just speak. My heart is racing in the suspense. And I desperately want to take a deep breath. Of course I hold my composure. He must be monitoring me right now.

'Misora-san, I do not normally say this kind of things to my detectives but –' the pace of the synthetic voice quickens slightly, 'do not hurt yourself anymore. Do something meaningful to repent, if you still insist that her death is entirely your fault.'

Apparently he knows which button to push.

'I normally do not mind people crying. But Misora-san crying makes me need to eat extra strawberry shortcakes.'

I believe he is implying he does mind me crying?

'Misora-san should eat some cake. She has not had any meals for two days. And she should eat some chocolate before hacking. It increases the success rate by 7%.'

I chuckle. And I am not supposed to.

'I hope to talk to you again soon, Misora-san.'

Two weeks.

I cannot believe this. This sensation of rekindled liveliness. Like sitting by the fireplace after exposing in a harsh blizzard.

Just one conversation. With a monotone artificial voice belonging to a virtual stranger.

L.

I gather some clothes and head into the bathroom. I guess I should put some lotion on my face after shower. And I will eat some Cadbury before attempting to hack.

LnLnLnLnL

Ta. Ta. Ta. Ta.

I smile faintly. What if L did not barge into my life?

Would today still be the same? Would today come sooner?

Fate.

Fatal.

LnLnLnLnL

I should not be thinking of L.

He merely says he finds me intriguing because of his quirkiness. It is unwise to –

Buzz. Buzz. Buzz.

I almost jump at the sudden incoming call. Luckily, I have organised my thoughts on the case beforehand.

'L, this afternoon I was attacked –'

'Naomi, are you alright?' a male voice asks with subtle urgency.

I almost drop my phone. My eyes are wide open. It would be mortifying if I also gasped. I try my best to steady my hand and regain composure. Is this – can it be – L's real voice?

'Is this your real voice?' I ask boldly, 'and did you just call me Naomi?'

I have heard enough tales about L in FBI. Enough to tell that L has surpassed a number of boundaries already, although the reasons are unknown. He has been extremely cautious of his identity. No one has ever seen his face or has heard his voice. He keeps everything businesslike. Only the case matters.

But somehow he appears to be very curious and warm towards me. He has sent me boxes of sweets, four times to be precise, saying those are his personal favourites which he wishes to share with me. He always asks whether I have harmed myself in any way recently. And he has pried on my private life – my family, my friends, my boyfriend (which does not exist) and my pets (which obviously do not exist either). He has even called at night just to remind me to eat chocolate cake before heading to the crime scene.

And now, Naomi and his possibly real voice.

'Yes. Is Naomi alright?' L asks again.

Is it merely because of surprise? My heart is thudding. My face is suddenly hot and my palms all sweaty. 'Yes,' I reply tersely, 'L –' I feel foolish but there is an urge to ask again, 'is this really your voice?'

'Yes.'

'Why?'

'Naomi will be happy to hear my voice. Watari is right. You are smiling.'

As soon as he pinpoints this, my smile evaporates into thin air. He should be calling me Misora-san. He is not supposed to consider my feelings. He is not supposed to reveal to me his voice, unless he is merely pretending this to be authentic.

That must be it. There is no need to jeopardise his identity. A calculative and rational person like L will never do something with no potential return but obvious risk and cost. Conclusion – this is not his real voice. This cannot be.

But this conclusion does not help to regulate the heat on my face, my heart beat or my breath. The change in my expression threatens to show. This is dreadful and alarming. Hearing a fake voice pretending to be a real one should offend me. I bite my lip hard. I at least deserve this punishment right now.

'Naomi is analysing the situation. She refuses to believe this to be my real voice. She thinks that revealing my voice to her is an irrational and unbeneficial act. It is not true. Yes, it increases the possibility of the disclosure of my identity by 0.82%. However, it also increases the possibility of seeing Naomi smile by 97.89%. In other words, there is 97.89% that this act will make me happy.'

I am dumbfounded. I down my coffee even though I am not thirsty at all. Good that my grip did not slip too much. The safest solution will be to resume to the case as soon as the coffee is finished.

'This is all I have at this moment. I will keep you updated,' I wrap up my report.

'Good,' L pauses a while, 'please be extra careful from now on. If Naomi gets hurt because of me, the chance that my sweets consumption doubles is 94%.'

'I will be fine,' I assure, though his words still make me feel warm for a moment.

'I have already eaten 32 extra pieces of strawberry shortcakes because of you.'

'Tch, do not use me as an excuse,' I wonder how the cosy warmth can grow into a nasty burn so rapidly.

'Anyway, rest well Naomi,' he says with a trace of tenderness, 'and remember to eat the double chocolate cake for breakfast.'

'Good night.'

Having thrown my phone onto the bed, I inhale and exhale deeply. The call is eventually over. At this moment, I cannot mind the camera behind the photo frame of Anna's smiling face. The uneasiness throws me onto the bed. Staring at the ceiling does not calm me as it usually does.

I have been evading this issue. Those signs are clear enough. But I allow the dread to override my rationality and delay the confrontation. And tonight – tonight the truth attacks me, as if I have stepped into an icy lake.

I want to believe that his voice is real.

I want to believe that L is real.

This is the truth behind all those evident clues.

The spark when I first heard his artificial voice. The flutter when I picked up the box of sweets on my doorstep. The sweats on my palms when L pried into my relationship status. The heat on my face when that computer mediated voice said 'if Misora-san was a fruit, she would most likely be a strawberry. Yes. Misora-san is pretty.'

These are superficial. I could have breezily brushed them off. There are more though. Something more unsettling than those.

I feel different from before. As if he rebuilds me into someone better after I was crushed by Anna's death and by suspension. He frees me from excessive self-condemnation and puts me into his world. I feel hopeful with him. And he recognises my ability and value. He makes me feel as if I can relinquish all my control and inhibitions.

I feel anchored.

To an illusion.

A voice. Or at best a person who barely exists.

I am ridiculous. I thought Naomi Misora could do better than this.

'Naomi.'

A red mark has probably evolved on my right cheek. I hope it will not stay long. The slap has been harder than I intended.

This is horrendous. I do not need to descend into another dark bottomless pit.

'Misora-san will not hurt herself. She will call me when she has the urge to.'

Better not on the face again. The last thing I need is to have L asking about my angry red mark. Perhaps on the thighs. But I will have to slap hard.

'Is Naomi alright?'

I have fallen.

I abruptly get off my bed. Not bothering to get changed, I gather my boxing stuff and set off.

LnLnLnLnL

Ta. Ta. Ta. Ta.

It begins to blur my vision.

But this hazy sight does not unsettle me.

I even chuckle airily at the thought of L munching strawberry shortcakes.

How many will he eat?

LnLnLnLnL

'Ah,' I sigh with relief.

Finally the day is over. Even though I have seen a wide range of gory crime scene, this one is exceptional. I may not know Ryuzaki but every time I imagine him dying like BB, I feel nauseous. I reckon I do not need the boxing club tonight. The day has been so straining that I can put the thoughts of L away without difficulties. I am sure L will not call again to intrude on my hard-earned sanctuary. I just want to go home, have some microwave pasta and enjoy the chocolate donuts –

Buzz. Buzz. Buzz.

My heart beat quickens a bit as usual because needless to say who is calling. I cuss in my mind before answering the call.

'What now, L?' I snap testily. I just found my key and was about to unlock the door to my sanctuary.

'Naomi, go to Hotel Angelos immediately,' L orders with his usual monotone. But the subtle excitement in his voice makes me swallow hard.

'Why? The next murder should not happen so soon,' I furrow my brows. This is peculiar. I allow my key to sink back into my pocket.

'You will see Watari there. I am sure you have seen him around FBI,' he replies without addressing my questions.

'Yes,' of course I know Watari. The old gentleman with glasses and a suitcase. A funny imagery emerges in my mind. A mini L, living in the black suitcase, with mini furniture. Surrounded by huge strawberries.

'I trust that you will arrive within 23 minutes,' he says with evident exhilaration, 'see you Naomi.'

I can almost hear him grinning.

What is this about? Why am I seeing Watari? L has been handling me directly all his time. Does he not want to deal with this case any more? But no. L does not appear to me a person who will quit in the middle of the game

The thought of being unable to hear L's voice. I take a deep breath to steady the sudden surge of blood into my brain. I feel overwhelmed. I shut my eyes tightly and take a deep breath again before turning away from the door.

I should have been more mentally prepared. Eventually the case will be over and L will disappear from my life like he has never been in it. He will not even know what he has done to me, or my life. And I am merely one of the hundreds of detectives he has employed.

I had not realised what kind of precarious ground I agreed to walk on. And I was overjoyed to accept the challenge. It is too late to realise now. It is a demon in disguise. I thought it was a way out of the maze of Anna's death. A path muddy but straight. But guess what, there are traps on our way out. You step on it and ding dong ding dong. A computer generated voice will announce flatly, 'congratulations, Naomi. You are caught in the quicksand.'

There is no need to state the obvious.

I will believe that someday I will get myself out. I cannot let myself drown in the sand.

I am Naomi Misora.

I arrive at Hotel Angelos exactly 23 minutes later. I scan around the hall. Watari is sitting at the far right corner, a coffee cup in his hand.

'Pleased to meet you, Misora-san,' the kind old man extends his hand to me, 'this way please.'

I did not ask the reason of my being here. I trust that he will explain soon. I follow him into the lift and he presses the button to the highest floor. I try not to display my doubt. But going to the most luxurious suite in the most expensive hotel in Los Angeles? My curiosity is justified, I presume. Does L want me to investigate another case?

I should not feel giddy. I am imagining all these. And even if it is true, I will solely fall harder for L. I will sink deeper and deeper into the whirl. I grip my forearm and –

'Are you alright, Misora-san?' Watari gazes at me with concern.

I nod curtly. How can I have winced? It is just one bruise.

Watari leads me to the only door n view. I am correct. This is the President suite.

'Please deposit all your firearms and electronic equipments here,' he instructs.

I comply without objection. He looks through the iris detector and the door swings open.

'After you,' he gestures.

The room is definitely not what I expect.

Folders are all over the place. And so are sweets wraps, lollipop sticks and sugar cubes. There is only one tidy corner in sight. There are two armchairs and a coffee table. And I am instructed to sit there and wait.

I can literally feel adrenaline dashing through my veins. I bite my lip hard. This time, not only to punish myself, but to prevent myself from beaming. So this has been where L worked. Does that mean –

'Naomi, pleased to see you,' a peculiar stranger greets me with a familiar voice.

L.

For one moment, I am frozen. I merely stare at L without any reaction. Except that my chest is probably rising and falling rapidly. I want to memorise his fascinatingly odd appearance. His eyes strike me first. Dark eyes with black rims. They are deep, like dark bottomless pits. Like black hole. Consuming you. Soundlessly. Secretly.

His hair is dark and unruly, pretty similar to what I imagine. His complexion rivals his white t-shirt. This is out of my expectation. But of course it is foolish of me to assume that a native Japanese speaker is necessarily Japanese. He probably has some Japanese blood. He is quite tall compared with average Japanese men though. Even with a hunched back, he is still taller than me. And I am definitely considered tall.

I hope I will not forget L's strange appearance. This is probably the first and the last time to see him in real life. But I doubt if I can ever forget. No. Not so easily. Not after how he has shaken me.

'Is Naomi-chan alright?' L asks, with his thumb in the mouth.

I nod stiffly because I cannot make a noise. Even if I could, my voice would be quivering. He does know the suffix '-chan' denotes closeness and affection right?

'Watari, please prepare coffee and strawberry shortcakes for us,' L calls to the kitchen.

I dare not sit down. He is my superior yet he feels more like a friend, if not a crush. I really do not know how to behave.

L approaches me stiffly, like a walking dummy. I want to back away since his gaze into my eyes is intense and never-blinking. His black orbs may be unreadable to me but my black orbs are definitely under his scrutiny. He does not stop even when he has invaded my private distance. Being shocked, I am paralysed on the spot.

He hugs me.

Awkwardly.

As if I were a giant panda stuffed toy.

I cannot breathe. The world seems to have halted.

Except us.

My body reacts to suffocation bizarrely. The parts below my neck feel numb and somewhat cold. It seems that all blood goes to my head. My face is steaming and my brain malfunctions. And I can feel L's arms on my waist. His cool white t-shirt eases my face slightly. But as soon as I feel his steady heard beat thudding like walking bass, my face gets hot again.

I wonder why his chest can be this firm. He is not muscular like my friends from FBI. But he is certainly toned. This is curious considering his sugar intake and his sedentary lifestyle. But this does not perplex me as much.

Is it wrong to feel right?

I am certain it feels right. My arms are around his waist now. I am no longer stiff and did not stiffen when he hugs me tighter.

Because I pull him closer too.

Because I do not want to fall into the quicksand.

Because I can be safe for now.

And I do what I do in a sanctuary.

'I know Nae-chan has been sad recently. But why is that so?' L says tenderly, to an extent I do not believe him to be capable of, 'when Nae-chan cries, I need to eat more strawberry shortcake.'

For now, my self-restrain is cast away. I do not want to stop my tears, not when I am in L's embrace. His tender words soothing my heart. I know I will have more bruises and wounds later. But this moment of seeing a beacon light in the darkness of quicksand is worth it.

'Why is Nae-chan so sad?'

I do not say anything. I simply let my tears continue to cascade.

'Not the case. Nae-chan is an outstanding detective. Not Anna. Nae-chan has struggled out of her shadow already. Not family. Her parents are just fine,' L mutters to himself.

My face stings.

'Not friends. Nae-chan's friends are nice to her. Not work. Even though the job is important to her, Nae-chan does not react this vigorously.'

It is alright, L. Sometimes you do not need to know everything.

'Is Nae-chan in love with someone?'

I stiffen. Fortunately he cannot see the aghast expression on my face. I immediately pull away from him as if he burns me. Indeed he does.

L gazes at me pensively. His eyes are again difficult to decipher. I can merely sense a bit of emotions shimmering in the dark muddy water. I dunno what it is. He seems to feel what I am feeling right now but our emotions are not exactly the same.

'This person is unattainable. Perhaps dangerous and mysterious at the same time. And Nae-chan is sad because she knows she can never be with him. Am I correct?' L asks with a touch of sorrow.

I cannot believe my ears. One, his capability in so many emotions is beyond my prediction. Two, he is so quick at deduction. My heart is racing due to fear. It is overwhelming, his eyes. Even when I have looked away, I can feel the intensity of his gaze. Scanning me. Analysing my composition.

'Nae-chan, please understand this. Even though you cannot be with him, you do not lose anything,' L holds my quivering hands, 'before he enters your life, you have been happy. So why can't you be happy without him?'

Wise words. However, genuine wisdom entails actualisation. I have yet to achieve this level in my life. I do not want to tell him though. I know eventually I will find solace in a new way again. Just – not now. One can only deal with one dramatic upheaval at a time.

He withdraws his hands and shifts his gaze away. Whilst L is lost in trance, I attempt to regain my composure. I cannot lose myself. A beacon light is merely a false hope. At the end of the day, it cannot save me from the quicksand.

I ferociously wipe my face with my bare hands. The salt creeps into the pores. My cheeks burn again.

'Nae-chan –' L starts hesitantly, not looking at me, 'I – understand.'

His black eyes, all of a sudden glazed and clear, meet mine. I almost chuckle. Is that supposed to be a joke? I bite my lip in case I say something absurd. What does he understand?

'Sinking,' his voice is feathery light. The tone unsettles me. This abjection. I want to inflict pain on him all of a sudden, 'burning.'

His right hand briefly lands on his left wrist and diverts my attention away from his expressionless façade. I want to see his heavy clay mask shatter into sand. Then I will be able to see the cracks on his face. Nausea attacks me out of the blue.

'Ryuzaki must be an exceptional man,' L's lips tug upward slightly, 'I believe he possesses his unique – fatal charisma which burns.'

Perhaps L is not omnipotent after all.

'But Nae-chan is an exceptional woman too,' he puts his thumb into his mouth, 'I believe she will burn him, even if she may not realise.'

I shake my head instantly, 'I cannot burn him.'

'We can only say at the end,' he shrugs.

LnLnLnLnL

Ta. Ta. Ta. Ta.

Only L will know, the finale.

But I am certain that I am being burnt until the very end.

The attack on my body. The acuteness of icy quicksand.

LnLnLnLnL

I have been around L enough to have witnessed most of his quirky yet endearing habits. He has become a major part of my life. I am conscious of the fact that my body below the chest is engulfed by quicksand. And I am descending at an alarming pace.

Because my beacon is leaving me.

'Watari, strawberry shortcake,' L crouches on his chair dangerously as usual. He stares at me with, I guess, condemnation.

'Not again! We will be departing very soon,' Watari exclaims with justified agitation. L has eaten three huge portions in front of me already.

'Nae-chan is sad so I need more cake,' he replies as a matter of fact, 'perhaps she should have some too.'

'It's alright, L,' I shrug uncomfortably. I think of a dark bottomless pit.

'I will still call you once in a while,' L's face is suddenly very close to mine, and I fidget, 'and I will send you sweets from England.'

I do not know what to make of it. He will not be entirely out of my life yet he will be out of my life.

I throw myself to him. And tears.

My face burns again. It has not healed from the previous nights.

'Nae-chan,' he calls gently.

L's arms wrap around my waist.

It is wrong to feel right.

I want quicksand to have me at that moment. Then I can savour his warmth and his scent until my last breath. It could have been my eternity.

If it is tiring to love, it is exhausting to not love. Because it is easier to hold on than to let go. But if I let go, he will be gone without a trace, leaving me desperately struggle against the sucking force of the quicksand, wanting to seek after him in this rimless world.

Loving is just sinking. Sounds more manageable. I want him to hurt me. Until I am no longer capable of holding on.

'L, we really have to go,' Watari prompts.

'I originally plan to give you something. But I know you will not have it,' my voice is outrageously calm.

'Like what? A mini Nae-chan?' he attempts to joke.

It is hard to not cry but grimace.

'Goodbye Nae-chan. I will not forget you,' L almost whispers, his eyes shimmering with sincerity, 'or your sweets.'

I peck on his cheek, 'goodbye L.'

He is gone. And he will never take what I intend to offer him.

I would kiss L.

My lips would land on his lightly, almost merely touching. It was a sign of hesitance – of struggling whether to give into the quicksand full of temptation, pain and desire. But once the lips touched, I fell. I could not resist gravity. I deepened the kiss and closed the gap between us. The agony, the yearning, the desire. They were unleashed and erupted.

The flame of hell inside me seemed to inflame L, who was previously shocked and allowed me to do whatever I wished. He was assessing the circumstances, like a predator judging whether the prey was indeed a feast.

He finally responded to my growing desperation. His arms snaked around my waist and held me firmly. His kisses were consoling in an assertive manner. I attempted to coax his mouth open but he refused to comply. Instead, as I withdrew, L's tongue barged into my mouth and I instinctively reacted against him. But the way his tongue slithered across mine made me melt. He easily dominated the kiss. My body was so feeble that I wanted to kneel down in front of him.

When L withdrew from my mouth, I thought I could perhaps catch my breath. But he began to lick my lips predatorily, as if they were coated with sugar. I gripped his shoulder. He went on licking my lips until he arrived at the most chapped point on the lower lip. He nibbled at it.

I gasped.

I could taste rust. Intensity had its grasp on my throat. I could not breathe. That bittersweetness was too much. I could no longer suppress my urge to moan. L's lips muffled my noise and he smiled at my reaction.

'Nae-chan is offering herself to me,' L said while caressing my face with a feathery touch.

'Then will you accept me?' I gazed into his unreadable orbs and leaned into his touch, 'givers always hope that the recipients accept and like what they offer,' I bit my lip as I observed his unintelligible expression, 'that will make the givers happy.'

He stared at me with his thumb in the mouth. I did not need to see from his eyes to observe his internal struggle, 'yes, I will accept Nae-chan.'

I kissed him.

'Let's do it in Nae-chan's way,' L said with a small tender smile. And his hand was back on my cheek.

I attempted to persuade him with my eyes, 'but I want to make you –'

' – That's why I want to make you happy.'

He pulled me in for a second round of heated open-mouthed kiss. His tongue once again invaded my mouth. He was kissing me with so much intensity that I kept retracting until my back hit a wall. He nibbled at my lower lip again. The notion of L licking my wound and tasting my blood enthralled me. I could no longer put up with the heat in my body. My hands automatically reached for the zip of my black leather jacket. But L brutally held my wrists and pinned me against the wall. Adrenaline shot through my veins. My body was on fire.

'I did not ask you to remove your jacket, Nae-chan,' L purred softly at my ear. His voice may be feathery light but the warning was heavy. He kissed my pulse point and he continued, 'how should I discipline you, Nae-chan?'

I gulped at L's words. He had never talked to me like that. My body reacted to him violently. I was burning and my breath was out of control. I knew I was sinking and the prospect exhilarated me.

'I want you to undress yourself and then undress me,' L commanded.

He released my hands but I was still imprisoned by his gaze. I took off everything on my torso. My heart pounded vigorously and my hands were trembling. L's gaze followed me intently as my hands reached for him. His body revealed to be lean and toned as expected. He was indeed very attractive. I could feel my face burning.

'Nae-chan is beautiful,' L said earnestly, 'but she still has to be punished.'

L picked up my leather belt. He took my wrists and tied them behind my back. I wondered if I had ever excited my culprits by handcuffing their wrists behind them. I wish L would drive me to the wall, corner me and just take me from behind.

'Kneel down and suck me,' L commanded.

On my knees, I took him in my mouth clumsily. I could not balance when my wrists were bound. L's hands were then in my hair, holding me firmly in place. His orbs interlocked with mine and I quivered at the intensity. I ran my tongue over the head of his penis. I could feel it twitch. That encouraged the use of my tongue. I went on licking the sides. L must have felt good. His chest rose and fell rapidly and his eyes were dark with approval. I tried to have all of him into mouth but it was difficult without my hands. I wanted to touch him and make him growl louder. L abruptly pushed all of himself into my mouth. His penis hit the back of my mouth cavity and I almost choked. My sights were blurry but I could not stop. That discomfort made my knees weak and I almost slipped away from L.

'Bad Nae-chan,' L groaned.

He slapped my face and shoved himself deeper into my mouth. I kept going, bobbing my head on him. L was losing control. He thrust into my mouth roughly, sometimes hitting the back of my mouth. I could feel tears trickling down my cheeks. Fortunately that did not prevent him from fucking my mouth.

'Nae-chan will swallow everything,' he instructed breathlessly.

Soon enough, he came inside my mouth. I tried to swallow everything but some fled through the corner of my lips. I looked at L through my hazy eyes. L's brows furrowed and his eyes were squeezed shut. It seemed that he was satisfied with my performance.

L helped me up and wiped away his cum and my tears, 'that was good Nae-chan.'

He pressed a gentle kiss on my lips. And then my forehead. Cheek. Earlobe. Pulse point. Neck. Shoulder. He nibbled and sucked at my collarbone. I gasped with thrill. He tweaked my nipple and made me yelp with pleasurable pain.

I would sink. But it was alright. He would have me. Though I could not move my hands, my naked body leaned onto his limply.

His hands started to wander. He caressed my neck and I shuddered. Then his fingertips, sluggishly, brushed against my bare upper back, like feather. My fingernails dug into my palms. His fingertips traced lower. My breath quickened. Lower. I swallowed with enthrallment. Lower. My body dangled on his feebly.

And he spanked me hard.

'L,' I faltered pleadingly, 'please.'

He tugged my fringe away meticulously. His black eyes gazed into mine. I had never seen so much of concern and affection in him. He caressed my cheek, as if I was frail.

'How rough does Nae-chan want me to be?' L whispered at my ear. His words made me shiver with anticipation, 'should I hurt her?'

I leaned closer into him for support. And immediately his scent coaxed my brain and I breathed, 'L.'

'You have not answered my question,' he warned as his finger danced on my lower back and slapped my bum, 'should I hurt you?'

I almost collapsed, 'L,' my voice was trembling, 'please.'

He pushed me onto the bed so that my backside was exposed to him.

'Nae-chan,' L's voice was mellow with an edge. Perhaps his erection was stinging once again.

'L-sama, please,' I begged.

He spanked me. Hard.

So hard that his hand must also have burnt.

A good kind of pain.

I felt weak. Decadent, even, to have L inflicting pain on me. But it felt right. That was how things should be. L making me burn. I struggled against the leather belt on my wrists in vain. And I was gasping, moaning, writhing helplessly on his bed. L did not cease. He was pushing me to the edge. I would fall down a cliff where blades awaited me.

'L-sama – please –' I could barely blurt out words, ' – please.'

'Please what, Nae-chan?' he growled through gritted teeth. And a particularly vicious blow landed on my flesh.

'Take me –' I pleaded, ' – please.'

He freed me and rolled me on my back, 'I need to see your face.'

That was his way of being affectionate.

He did not enter me yet. Instead his fingers caressed my opening.

'Nae-chan is all wet for me.'

He pushed his fingers into my mouth and I obediently sucked them clean. His fingers then returned to drawing tight circles on my clit. I squirmed and bit my lip. I could taste the bittersweetness. He kissed me and –

He entered me.

I had never seen such a dramatic expression on L's face. His eyes opened unnaturally wide. His facial features were frozen. Mouth open. His aghast face was worth the stabbing pain.

'You are a virgin,' he exclaimed with shock, disbelief and perhaps remorse as well.

I did not deny it. He instinctively backed away from me.

'Don't,' I held him, tears flickering in my eyes, 'L, please. I want to remember this.' I blinked and tears fell.

L kissed away my tears before his hands returned to my clit.

'Go on.'

L condemned me with his eyes and stayed still. Only his hands continued the circular motion.

'Go on,' I urged, 'hurt me.'

It hurt. I felt stabbed and torn and shattered. My face was burning and stinging. L covered my eyes and kissed me roughly whilst he kept thrusting into me. Everything overwhelmed me. I could not distinguish whether the agony was physical or spiritual. With each thrust, I felt as if he was breaking me and undoing what he had constructed.

And then his hand was on my throat. My entire being was destabilised. Binaries I grew up with seemed not true anymore. Agony/Pleasure. Devastation/Exhilaration. Incompleteness/Completeness. They were two but one, contrasting but inclusive.

I was falling apart. Decomposing. I was no longer bound by my form. All the inhibitions were fading.

L pounded into me relentlessly. I could feel the climax approaching –

I scratched him and left a long mark on his back. And then he came too.

Tears began to dry on my face.

L will never accept what I intend to offer him. He is too kind to hurt me.

LnLnLnLnL

Ta. Ta. Ta. Ta.

Pain is a wondrous thing if you know how to enjoy it.

It always comes with pleasure.

Coexistence.

LnLnLnLnL

For a very long time, I go to boxing religiously. I suppose the pain can never cease. It is no longer an agony. Nothing sharp or dramatic. It becomes a bruise on my heart.

L keeps his words. He sometimes calls and checks up on me. And there will be boxes of sweets from different parts of the world appearing on my doorstep. 'When will Nae-chan go out with someone?' is a frequent question in our conversations. I suppose he feels like he is a brother to me, always urging me to see a man properly. 'You know Ryuzaki is actually B. And you know he is unattainable. Why don't you just forget him and move on?' he says. How can I?

Things change when Raye Penber comes into my life. He is nothing like L. Perhaps I should say he is quite the opposite of L. Raye does not burn or make me sink. He calms and soothes and holds. He is my sanctuary. I do not need to feel anchored to stay with him. He holds me in his arms. With him, I will not fall.

Raye does magic. The quicksand is no longer bottomless.

I go to Japan with Raye for the Kira investigation. I cannot deny that I look forward to seeing L again. I meet L a few days after our arrival.

I know it has always been L, no matter how much Raye loves me. I have never fled the quicksand successfully.

And then Raye dies.

This is sufficient to kill me. The realisation that no matter it is the one I love or the one that loves me, I can never be with them.

Quicksand is active and bottomless again without magic.

I opt to fall into darkness this way.

I have arranged everything to ensure that I burn L – burn him enough to make him remember me.

My room is my suicide note. I have left clues to lead him to the truth. When everyone thinks I commit suicide because of Raye, L alone will know that I die mostly for him. The faint line on L's left wrist informs me that it is his remembrance of sinking – and of being burnt. L has done it for Ryuzaki. He will know that I do it for him.

Ta. Ta. Ta. Ta.

Ta. Ta. Ta.

Ta. Ta.

Ta.