A rather short one-shot. A little L x Light shonen-ai towards the ending, I suppose, if you squint. I, once again, have to thank one of my best friends, Tubular Fox for reading/editing the crap out of this for me. I owe you a lot, my friend!
Disclaimer: I do NOT own Death Note
There were very few snowy days in Tokyo. For Light, it was one of his favorite sights, but also one of his most despised. The beautiful chill of the snow brought about memories of sorrow. The neon lights of the capital illuminated the delicate white snowflakes as they fell, while Light stood by the window with a small smile of remembrance gracing his lips. A smile of recalling a relative long lost. His ears were deaf to the noise of the busy streets below, the snow seeming to wrap the world in a soft blanket of silence. He would have stayed by that window forever, if L had not giving a tug to the chain that connected them. Sighing, Light turned, disappointed, to once again aid L in the investigation.
How he wished life could be as simple as it was when he was a child.
L observed the expression of fondness as Light returned to his side, ever so slightly tilting his head in innocent questioning. Light fought to avoid getting sucked into the dark irises that knew him so well, but their depth caught him and Light couldn't seem to escape.
Opening his mouth, L questioned why, of all things, snow would cause him to remember? Light laughed quietly, then asked in return why a candle would remind him of the orphanage L once mentioned to him. Light desperately wished for the subject to be dropped, for their work to continue, but the darkness of L's all-seeing eyes had snagged him and Light had never known the detective to let go of anything. Turning towards the window, Light began to explain as the icy snow fell like the cold tears he hadn't shed as a young child.
Years ago, on this very day, Light had visited his favorite grandfather. His grandfather was always lively man, constantly spoiling Light and his baby sister. But then, out of nowhere, his grandfather was ailing and lying in a hospital bed. It had all seemed so sudden, and Light hadn't been sure what to make of it. The nameless, faceless doctors endlessly circled around them, running tests, and saying things he couldn't quite understand. Light had been scared, all the time, and he'd felt it building and building in his chest. When a steady tone had assaulted his ears, his world had bottomed out. His head had snapped up to gaze at a monitor; the rise and fall of the line had ceased to exist. His grandfather had been unmoving, like the never wavering tone.
It was then that the frightened boy had realized that something had taken his beloved grandfather away from him, but he never did understand, never comprehended, until the black casket had lowered into the ground. As the young Light had begun to run away from the funeral, the skies had decided to bless him with snow, a lonely miracle of the earth to befriend a lonely soul. The icy water hid his sorrow, froze it into a never-melting mask.
Suddenly turning away from the famed detective, Light finally felt the pain he had kept hidden. His chest began to ache dully, but he closed his eyes against it, unable to face it alone. He was that child once more, fighting against his sorrow; a battle he was quickly loosing. L could do nothing but watch as the boy began to fall apart. Then he drew Light into a warming hug, one hand rising to Light's face to brush away the water from the corners of his eyes, the beginning of the mask's thaw.
"You don't have to be cold, Light."
The mask shattered like an icicle crashing to the ground. The little child, who fought to be strong for his family, was able to grieve just as they had. Logic seemed to fade from Light's mind, and he began to feel.
L held on to Light as the tears fell freely, as the snow outside ceased to fall.
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