AN- …I don't even know. This is a fix-up of a really crappy piece I did a long time ago and it's also pretty crappy. Because, you know, boredom. It does odd things to my mind.
By the way, would you click that little button at the bottom of this? I want your honest opinion. AKA PLEASE TELL ME HOW MUCH IT SUCKS. Judge as much as you want, I can take a lot of criticism (I can also take flaming, but for obvious reasons, I'd prefer critique. Dun't have to be long or even polished. EXAMPLE: OMG LIGHT IS LIKE SO OOC HERE HE WOULD NEVER DO BLANK GO DIE YOU STUPID AUTHOR.) I'm a growing author; I need kicks to get off my butt.
Disclaimer: I own nothing that I write; why else would I be on a fan fiction site? ^_^
Nothing Gold Can Stay
The door to the rooftop creaked open and Light Yagami walked out, starting in surprise at the figure sitting on the end of the roof.
"What are you doing out here, Ryuzaki?" He walked towards him and Ryuzaki turned, city lights glinting on his wide, dark eyes. He bit his lip as he considered the question.
"Nobody ever comes up here, so there isn't any need for me to be L. It gets tiring sometimes, you know." Light considered this, slightly surprised at the frankness of his tone, then asked softly,
"Am I bothering you? I mean, if I am, then I can always leave..." Light let the offer trail off, not sure himself which he would prefer. Would it make it easier or harder to kill him if he knew him better? But there was one thing Light knew for certain, and that was every time Ryuzaki looked at him like that, spoke so openly to him, he couldn't do it. He couldn't even comprehend killing him. How could he, when he was so… human?
"No, it's alright. I don't mind." Ryuzaki swung his legs between the bars of the fence guarding the edge, apparently unbothered by the height. He sighed, and Light could visibly see his shoulders sliding down as tension unspooled from his body. This was the first time he had ever seen Ryuzaki truly relaxed.
The thing was, Ryuzaki looked sloppy and lackadaisical and the very first impression people would get from him was that he didn't care. But even after a few days, Light could tell it was a façade. Ryuzaki cared so much it hurt; cared maybe even more than Light himself. Everything about Ryuzaki was controlled, from his odd affectations and sloppy clothes, to the very slightly sarcastic tone he brought out for everyone. All just more ways to separate himself from other people, to bring himself closer to the ideal of Justice he was trying to become.
Light could sympathize. After all, he was trying to do the same, albeit in a different manner. In many ways, they were alike. Ryuzaki was the only one who could ever match his intellect, and in a different time, in a different world, they might've been allies. Friends, even.
"So, Light-kun, what brings you out here this night?" Ryuzaki asked in a conversational tone.
Light jerked out of his reverie, and then shrugged and moved forward next to him, placing his elbows on the railing. As he rested his chin in his palms, he replied,
"I suppose... It's quite peaceful out here. It's, you know, a good place to reflect." Ryuzaki mmm'd his agreement.
They sat there in companionable quiet, the city providing a backdrop of life, dimmed but still there. The city never slept, Light reflected. People followed their own paths, their own threads in the tapestry of life. Even through Kira, through wars, through darkness and corruption and revolution, they kept moving, kept looking forward, kept on living. Light almost smiled at the thought.
"…Do you remember that game of tennis we played?"
"Ye-es…?" He wasn't quite sure where he was going with this.
"I said I was 1% suspicious of you."
"…"
"That was a lie. Light-kun, I kne- I know what you are." He resolutely faced Tokyo, not looking him in the eye. Light turned, taking in the tension back in his face, in his shoulders, in the whole set of his body. He had stopped kicking at the bars.
Light sighed, almost mocking. "Not this again. I thought I'd already proved that I wasn't Kira. Multiple times over, in fact."
"I know that. However, I can't let this go. It has to be you, who else could organize everything so meticulously? Anyways, once you eliminate the impossible, whatever remains, however improbable, must be the truth." L intoned.
"Really," Light snorted, a humorless sound, "quoting Sherlock Holmes at me now, are we?"
"Light-kun."
"Well, if you're so damn sure that it's me, why not just arrest me already? You could do it, you know. You've put me in solitary confinement, my own father cornered me in a car with a gun because of you, you could do anything you wan-" Light couldn't stop talking, the words just spilled out like so much garbage and his voice was shaking, actually shaking, goddammit.
"Because I do not want it to be you." The black-haired man cut in simply, still not looking at him. Light's throat tightened up. Surprisingly, he felt that curious dryness that came right before crying, and even more surprisingly, he realized it wasn't an act. Why am I crying? He couldn't understand why such a short sentence could reduce him to tears.
"Ryuzaki..." He turned and Light noticed, the way he noticed everything about him, the silent indictment in his eyes. And yet at the same time, they were soft, as soft as sin. Light's mouth went dry and he scrabbled for words. "I. I'm sorry." God, what was wrong with him? Where had his composure went? He scrubbed at his eyes, rubbing away the traitorous tears starting to leak out. "You know, I haven't cried since I was a kid," he said, chuckling feebly. Inside, he cursed himself. He was pathetic, he was utterly weak. Fuck. How much did this tell Ryuzaki about him and of what it told Ryuzaki, how much were things that he couldn't have him know?
Ryuzaki continued to look up at him, contemplating him in a way that made him feel distinctly uncomfortable, hot and cold and dark and for some odd reason, ashamed of himself. He broke the stare first, turning away. "We should go back. They're probably wondering where we are by now and-" Something caught in his throat and he trudged back to the door without finishing.
"And?" Ryuzaki was at his elbow, having gotten up almost silently.
"Nothing." Light walked a bit faster.
"I won't leave you alone until you tell me, you know." As he reached for the push-bar on the door, he found his way blocked by the pale black-haired man, the moon accentuating his stark coloring.
"And if that was a slip of the tongue and I really wasn't going to say anything?" Light countered, containing his rising emotions. He needed to get inside before he said something he would regret. Outside, he was too raw and emotional, too open.
"However, it was not and we both know that. We also both know of the prodigious amounts of both patience and persistence that I possess." Ryuzaki had an impish expression on his face.
"Let. Me. Through."
"No." He was definitely enjoying this. Bastard.
If he's going to play that way… Light stepped closer, letting his voice fall to a dark murmur. "Let me through."
"Answer my question." Ryuzaki folded his arms, trying to maintain his indifference. His voice betrayed him with the slightest quaver as he shrank back, most likely subconsciously. Light could almost taste his victory.
Light stalked forward, placing a hand almost gently on the door by Ryuzaki's head. The atmosphere had shifted, and instead of Ryuzaki blocking Light's escape, it was suddenly the other way around.
"And if I don't want to?" he breathed. Ryuzaki shivered. "That's t-too bad," he whispered back.
Light smirked, icy perfection. "Is that so…" He bent down slightly, brushing his lips against Ryuzaki's. He had planned for it to end there, just enough to knock him off balance, a stupid kind-of-revenge for everything.
He hadn't planned for Ryuzaki to make that soft whimpering groan, and he definitely hadn't expected him to respond in kind, grabbing at his shirt and pulling him forwards, their lips smashing together uncoordinatedly.
But damn it all if it didn't feel amazing. His fingers had somehow twined themselves through Ryuzaki's hair, which was actually so soft, and suddenly nothing mattered except for touching more of him- he needed skin-to-skin contact, now. He grabbed Ryuzaki's hands, slamming them into the door with a soft thud and deepened the kiss. He wanted more of that sweet taste that came from eating too much sugar and cake and that smooth skin that had probably never seen the sun.
Light closed his eyes, reveling in the sensation. He had never had anything like this, Misa and his high school girlfriends couldn't even compare. But the taste of the kiss was slowly turning from sweet to salty, and he opened his eyes, only to see slow tears rolling down Ryuzaki's face.
"Why are you crying?" Light wiped the drops away, puzzled.
"Nothing in particular- it's just, the bells are really loud today. Can't you hear them?" Ryuzaki asked, quiet and still.
"Where?" Light half-turned, trying to hear something. "No."
"Never mind, then." Ryuzaki looked away.
The mood was gone like a candle that had been drenched with a bucket of water and Light sobered up, the cold reality hitting him quickly. He had kissed Ryuzaki- no, L, his rival, his archenemy, the Holmes to his Moriarty. But still…
"Ryuzaki, listen. I don't care, I really don't care. We can make this work somehow, please. I'll- I just want you, I think I always have but I never knew because I didn't want to and I knew I shouldn't-" Light was desperate, seeing a life he never knew was possible disappear, ephemeral as a mayfly.
"It can't happen. As long as you're Kira and I'm L, it'll never happen." Ryuzaki's face was pained, anguished, before he organized his features into the careful ambivalence he had always worn. Light wanted to punch him.
"Fine. Go then." Light moved backwards, allowing him the space to open the door.
Ryuzaki turned without a word, and began a slow walk down the stairs. But it was more than that. It was a walk back to the case and to the real world. A walk away from Light. Light wanted to keep him here, he wanted to hold him and never let go. He was on the brink, on a knife edge, and one wrong motion could slice him in two. If only Ryuzaki would look back. If only he would turn around. Light could only watch as he continued down the stairs and, not even pausing, motioned him to follow.
5 Days Later
As the sirens from Watari's death sounded, L stiffened. Light almost smirked. No matter what L knew and suspected, his fate was sealed and he knew it.
"Everyone, the reaper-" L choked off. Murmurs of alarm tracked through the rest of the task force. Soichiro stepped forward with a worried expression.
"Oh? What's wrong, Ryuzaki?" L didn't respond, and Light could see the battle inside of his quivering body, his very soul clawing against the bonds of the Death Note as it dragged him towards death.
The spoon he had been using to drink his tea slipped out from between his fingertips, the first domino, and he toppled down, the chair crashing loudly to the ground. Even while falling, you're slow. Light dove forward and caught him before he hit the ground. He had always been a good actor and he was pitch-perfect in this new role.
"RYUZAKI?" His face was the epitome of concern, as one might have for a friend. L's hand came up, settling on his shoulder and crumpling the cloth so hard that Light could feel the trembling tension that radiated through his entire body. He stared intensely at Light, as if he was trying to tell him something. The room had shrunk to just the two of them, holding each other.
Light was suddenly pulled back to the roof in a vertigo-inducing sense of déjà-vu. No, this wasn't the same at all, but Light couldn't help it. It was the eyes, it was always the eyes. Large, dark, and so deep he couldn't tear his own away. In them was everything that could've been, everything that mattered, all that they could never say.
How could Ryuzaki look at him like that? How could he have that open expression of shock and sadness and forgiveness all at once- how had he not expected this, why hadn't he done something? Light wanted to scream, wanted to rend at his hair and clothes, wanted to shake Ryuzaki and shout at him to snap out of it, dammit. It wasn't fair. It couldn't be this easy.
Slowly, too slowly, the life faded out of his eyes and Light was holding nothing but the husk of a man, the hand falling limply to the floor. This time, it's Ryuzaki who loses the staring contest, he thought insanely. And for one moment, Light wanted him to wake up. He wanted him to open his eyes and laugh into his face, having somehow foiled his plan. For one heart-wrenching moment, Light didn't mind losing this game of theirs, as long as Ryuzaki lived.
But then Light came back to himself, remembering Kira and Justice and the New World he had to build. He gradually composed himself into something ready to face the team and the world, with a little heaving sigh that seemed to split him in two. It was one of the hardest things he had ever done.
Goodbye, Ryuzaki. And in a softer unbidden voice, I'll miss you.
