Disclaimer: I was reading 'Friend of Flame' by Spotofpaint when this idea hit me. I really appreciate her/him letting me use her/his story as a basis for my little ditty. Thanks for reading. I also do
not own Death Note or any of the characters.
The Speech
The doctor looked at the young boy that sat opposite him. He had spent a few hours wrapping badly burned feet, ironed flat, smooth as plastic. He gazed on sadly at the youth, the child that
requested leave so soon; the little one that had given up and forgotten his own name in name of justice. The doctor asked only one thing.
"Why don't you stay and rest?" The twelve-year-old stood, bandaged feet steadied on white tile. He turned his head, looked the doctor straight in the eye. He answered.
"The filth of this world disgusts me. I will wipe it clean. I will scrub it until my very last breath. It is my duty, my cross to bear. I am L!" The boy, L, walked out of the door under his own power;
the doctor wept for his own unworthiness.