A/N: Hey everyone. Apologies for being so inactive but that's life. I'm attempting to get back into writing and all. So this is my first piece in a while. Let me know what you think.
'I had finally climbed to the top,
But the view was hardly worth it.' - Unknown
"They've apprehended the criminals."
"Of course they have."
"No casualities."
"Mm."
"Another victory for you, L."
"I told you not to call me that."
"But you are-"
"No."
"I-"
Click. Tomorrow he would excuse the action, but tonight, he needed to be alone.
But he always was..
A weary mind filled with old gears always whirring, the man reminisced, however brief.
L.
The letter sat bitter on his tongue, and forced itself through his skin.
What similarities were there between them? Besides the sharing of the letter, the title, the burden.
No, he was not L.
The great detective of the world, the man no one knew beyond the cold black olde english font, he was not here.
The incessant pounding in his head worsened, and a trembling hand fixed itself in dark strands of hair not washed in weeks.
The ghosts of memory were gnawing on his marrow, sticking their greedy little hands wherever they pleased, and should he bat them away they returned shortly thereafter to bite much harder. And so they became his company. The only he had.
Truly L stood for Lonely.
But what had A stood for?
A, that was a letter he had not come to think of for a very long time. He'd held it in his hands for so long, he always thought it would leave an imprint upon his palms, a reminder for his entire life.
Instead, he left it behind, without a second's thought.
Alternative. L's successor.
That was who he was. Who he had been.
A young boy, heaving air through corrupted lungs in a last ditch effort to get through to the end, and having no idea the end was farther than he thought.
A was not prepared for this.
The years of desire, and hunger, the training, the pressure, the disintegration of his person as a whole. None if it had readied him for it, and he had nearly collapsed beneath the collumns the world placed on his thin shoulders.
A let his hand fall to his side, fingers twitching, not used to a moment of rest. Even now he wished for something to busy himself with.
He hardly heard the door open, but his eyes flickered to flood of light let in from the hall outside. With a sigh, he greeted his assistant.
"Evening."
"Good evening..." He wavered, and it was clear he wanted to say something, but was awaiting A's permission to continue on. For a moment, it seemed as if he wouldn't get it.
"What is it?"
"Well it's just tomorrow-"
"What about tomorrow?"
"Isn't it your birthday?"
A's eyes flickered to the calendar. Yes, it was. He'd forgotten all about it. Forgotten he'd even told anyone.
"Yes. But I see no importance in mentioning it."
"Aren't you going to celebrate?"
"No. That's a complete waste of a day. I've already received another case to begin shortly."
"Come on, Sir.. you can't sit here and mope." His assistant frowned, but appeared determined to nudge the fussy detective into agreement. "You're going to be 25! That's plenty to celebrate.."
"He was twenty five at one point too." A replied curtly. "I don't see the point in celebrating something so.. unimportant."
"You're not him." he insisted. "If you won't go out to celebrate, how about I pick up a few bottles of cheap wine?"
"I suppose you won't take no for an answer?"
"Not a chance."
"Tch. Where is this stubbornness from?"
"Well my mentor taught me."
A rolled his eyes. Cheeky little bastard. "Fine. Bring some coolers or.. or whatever. But don't expect me to be happy about it."
"Of course not, Sir. You hardly are."
A partial smile tugged at his lips, but he hid it and forced it back, shaking his head. "Right then. See you tomorrow."
"See you then, L."