Disclaimer: I do not own Death Note nor any of the characters contained therein.

Summary: As a life ends, a moment blossoms into a stolen glimpse of another's. The value of one individual's life, a sudden metaphor for all life, for possibilities long discarded. Light's PoV. Spoilers through end of series. Rated T just in case.


Is it like this

In death's other kingdom

Waking alone

At the hour when we are

Trembling with tenderness

Lips that would kiss

Form prayers to broken stone.

– excerpt from The Hollow Men, T.S. Eliot


Requiem Pro Lux

Honeyed light pours in through dingy windows, bathing the ugly room with impossible beauty, golden motes of dust dancing aflame in mid-air, delicate filigrees of rust climbing silvery walls. Steel corrugation presses into his back, the steps leading up but ultimately nowhere. He knows where he is, but he is lost just the same. Everything is lost. His own blood feels sticky on his skin now, and he wants to run, to move, to live. Just rest, just think, just wait – there must be a way . . .

His eyes succumb to gravity's desire and slip from their view of the distant ceiling to lower and stare through the light, past chains and support beams, deeper into the shadows. A blink and a gasp are the only changes to his frozen form. He can see him. He stands there, slouched, half-shadowed, eyes hidden by a mess of hair but no doubt staring back. How can you be here – why am I seeing you now . . .

A sharp pain bursts within his chest – it rushes, hot, to every extremity. Is this what a flame feels like? No answer comes to him. He feels himself consumed as he stares at his stalking specter and everything fades to black.


A sweet chiming noise sounded, seeming close yet distant. Bells? Birds? He opened his eyes. Blue sky stared back at him, wisps of clouds drifting past. He sat up, breathing hard. What the hell happened? His hands gripped the grass, springy and cool, as he scanned his surroundings. He was on a small hill, and a path wound between it and a tall oak tree, which stood proudly within the verdant landscape. A couple with grey hair was walking far in the distance along the path, away from him, clutching each other as if from cold, though the air felt warm enough.

With a start, he remembered his injuries and the pain that had engulfed him and looked down at himself. There were no holes in his shirt or his flesh – he felt no pain, no drying blood gluing his clothes to him. He held his hands, fingers splayed, directly in front of his eyes, flipping them back to front, as if discovering them for the first time. I'm fine – how is it possible that I'm fine? He would have laughed had he not been afraid. I wouldn't classify this as 'nothingness,' but then again, I wouldn't say this is heaven or hell either. Is this some trick of my mind? Or was Ryuk wrong?

Pushing up from the soft ground, Light got to his feet. He could see buildings now, just past the groupings of trees, their brown stately forms seeming to stare in at him, resigned, indifferent. He swatted at the back of his pants, intending to dislodge any dirt or grass, though he felt none. Sighing, he walked down the slope toward the path, turning toward the part he hadn't seen yet that wound behind the hill in the opposite direction that the older couple had taken. He wasn't sure he was ready to talk to anyone yet.

Red – the color assaulted his eyes, and he stopped, wondering at its intensity, hovering before him. Suddenly, it began to ascend. He barely noticed the faint gasp as he sprinted toward it, purely on instinct, leaping sideways up the hill just off the path, his quarry in sight, and he stretched up to grab its tail.

"Gotcha!"

Light grinned at his small triumph, pulling it down to stare at it. He was remembering simpler pleasures and other things he'd pushed from his mind long ago.

"Are you taking it from me?"

Knocked from his reverie, he looked down. A young boy gazed up at him, pouting slightly. Light stayed frozen, staring at him. Impossible. The child was pale but healthy, large dark eyes staring up from under a mop of black hair. He stood straight enough, his hands clutching each other as if for warmth, and his eyes slipped to what Light was still holding.

"Oh, did you want this back?" he said in a teasing manner, amused to see the boy's eyes narrow to slits in response. He laughed lightly, moving slowly down the hill, still feeling slightly unsteady. The boy didn't take his eyes off him as he approached, feet firmly planted at the edge of the path. Light bent close to him, holding out the string of the balloon. "Just hold onto it better this time, so you won't lose it again."

The boy grabbed the string with a chubby hand. "I would not have let go of it if you had not scared me."

"You think I'm scary?" Light smiled gently.

"You came down the path looking angry. Then you stared at my balloon like you wanted it." The boy pressed a toe into a crack between cobblestones. "I'm not supposed to talk to strangers."

"Well, then I guess I'd better introduce myself. My name is . . . Akari Yabunushi." Light wasn't sure why he'd made the name up, but decided it was safer to use an alias until he knew what was going on. "And what's your name?"

The boy's head tilted, his eyes widening as he seemed to absorb every detail of Light's face. "I already know you're a liar," he said in perfect Japanese, "How do I know you're not a pervert as well?"

Light's eyes widened for a moment before he burst into laughter. He's like this already? "I had to change my name because some bad men are after me and I don't want to be found – I'm not used to it yet."

The boy took a step back, eyes still locked with Light's. "Bad men are everywhere." The sound of footsteps on the walkway reached their ears, and the boy turned, switching back to English. "Can we go get ice cream now?"

Looking up, Light saw a young couple approaching. The man chuckled softly. "When we've finished our walk, Leonid, we'll have ice cream, but not a moment before."

"Dad! That's not my name yet – you said I could choose!"

The man chuckled again as he and his wife approached. "Well, I have to call you something until you decide – would you like me to use your grandmother's nickname for you?"

The boy blushed. "Just call me L. It's simpler."

"I'm not calling you by a letter, chicchairyuu."

"Dad!"

"Stop teasing him, dear."

"Who's your friend?" The man looked up to meet Light's eyes, and though his cheery demeanor never wavered, Light noticed the slightest flicker in the other man's eyes. A warning.

Light cleared his throat. "Hi there! This little guy's balloon got away from him, and I managed to grab it before it floated off. Akari Yabunushi, pleased to meet you." He extended his hand.

"Victor Lawliet," the man said simply, shaking Light's hand. He had thick, dark brown hair, cropped fairly short. "This is my wife, Asuka, and I can see you've already met my son."

"Yeah. I'll bet he's a handful." Light looked down at L in time to see the boy scowl at him. Unable to help himself, Light found himself chuckling. Actual expressions on L's face, he thought; I never thought I'd see that.

"Do you have kids, Mr. Yabunushi?"

Light looked up at L's father in surprise. "I . . . no, I don't. I'm not married, actually."

"I see." The man seemed to be appraising him. "Well, you're still young – who knows what the future holds for you. You can call me Vic, by the way."

"Oh, OK, sure. You can call me Akari," Light said, matching Vic's Western style of address.

"Why don't you join us for ice cream?" Vic's invitation sounded friendly, but there was something of a challenge in his eyes.

"Oh, that's alright. I was just –"

"No no, I insist." Vic smiled, clapping Light on the shoulder. "It's so rare to meet someone trustworthy and kind on a walk through the city park, not to mention one who manages to get my son to speak to him."

Light raised his eyebrows at that. "So, I take it he's shy?" The other man's hand still on his shoulder, Light felt himself swept along as though he was a leaf on a stream.

"We had trouble convincing the first tutor we brought home that he wasn't mute."

"I see. Has he started going to school?" Light grasped at conversation topics, trying to keep things as casual and natural as possible.

"Well, he's five now . . ."

"Five and a half, Dad!" L interrupted, darting between the adults as they walked like a fish looping through coral.

"Yes, yes, five and a half," Vic said warmly, "but we tend to move around quite a bit, and he's already well beyond any school curriculum appropriate for his age."

"Ah. You're home-schooling him. That makes sense." Light looked down at the cobblestone path as they walked, not sure whether to worry where his feet were taking him.

L suddenly ran ahead of them, his scuffed little loafers slapping the stones as he rushed away, still clutching his balloon.

"Leonid! Stop running!"

"That is not my name!" he called back, not slowing.

"Eru-kun."

His mother's voice was not loud, but it carried well enough, and L slowed to a stop and turned, on the verge of pouting. "But you're all walking so slow. What if they run out of ice cream before we get there?"

Asuka shot Vic a look. "I told you teasing him about that was a bad idea." She turned away from Vic's shrug to meet her son's gaze. "They will not run out of ice cream, and we will be there soon enough. Come here, and hold my hand."

"But Mama . . ."

"Right now."

The boy sighed and simply reached up as they caught up to him, as if he was catching a ride on a ski lift, putting his hand in his mother's to walk beside her.

"I know this is none of my business, but . . ." Light began, wondering if he'd regret asking, "why doesn't he have a full name?"

"Well –"

"They are letting me choose." L interjected on his own behalf. "They value my participation in creating my own identity."

Light blinked. "Wow. That's, um . . ."

"It seemed like a good idea at the time." Asuka's tone was wry.

"We couldn't agree on a name, actually." Vic put in. "We could only agree on a first initial, so we decided we'd let him choose a name once he was old enough."

"It . . . didn't occur to you that having an initial for a name would affect his identity early on, thus negating his 'participation'?" Light wondered why he was asking about this at all.

Asuka laughed softly. "As I recall, that was my exact argument at the time."

"While I seem to recall you trying to sneak your name choice onto his birth certificate without my knowing." Vic countered, his expression playful.

"Liam would have been a perfectly good name until such time as our son was ready to choose a new one for himself."

"Even your own mother detested that name."

"Please. My mother would not have been happy with anything other than a traditional Japanese name."

"Well, it does not matter now, because when I am six, I'll be old enough, and I'll get to choose my name myself." L piped up.

"The age we agreed upon is ten, Eru-kun."

"Mama! That's too long to wait!"

"Know what I think?" Light waited to see if L would respond.

The ball of tousled black hair poked forward as they walked, and L peered past his parents at Light. "What?"

"I think you should just stick with 'L' – it's mysterious." Light smiled, looking sidelong at the boy, whose eyes got wide and then narrowed before he disappeared behind his mother.

"You're just teasing me too."

"No, I'm serious. Why be like everyone else with just a regular name? Be who you are, conventions be damned."

Vic laughed. "Oh, he doesn't need any more encouragement in that direction. He's quite the individualist."

"Well, that's better than being a staunch conformist." Light wondered for a moment if he was overstepping his bounds when he heard a light humming laugh. He let his eyes slip sideways and saw Asuka smiling at him, her lips curving gently beneath twinkling eyes. The impression that he had inadvertently taken her side in another ongoing argument between her and her husband was confirmed when Vic rolled his eyes, and Light squashed a smile before it had a chance to be born.

"Perhaps we can take the shorter path this time – would you like that, sauvou?" Vic said with a resigned but cheerful sigh.

L dashed out in front of them, still holding his mother's hand but looking squarely at his father as he walked sideways to stay ahead of them. "You mean it, Dad?" His eyes were wide as he awkwardly half-skipped, pulling his mother's arm forward, balloon string still in his other hand, tethered between separate forces.

"Yes – but no running ahead! Be good and keep pace with us – we'll be there soon enough."

"OK." A flash of an impish grin crossed L's face as he fell back in line.

Light was certain that L was the key to why he was here, but he could not fathom what had happened or why. Guess I'll just have to wait and see how things play out, he thought; maybe this is a test, or maybe this is some kind of new beginning – this could be my chance . .. He resolved himself to try and learn as much as possible from what was happening so that he could be prepared for whatever followed next.

It took them several minutes to wind their way out of the park and across the street to the ice cream shop on the corner. The shop was absurdly quaint, with a waffle-cone-shaped sign swinging above the door, and after engaging in rambling chit-chat that did nothing to stir his mind, he was glad of the opportunity to sit and observe. Light was also relieved to note the coffee cart just outside the shop next to a number of round iron tables and chairs as he was less than interested in actually consuming ice cream.

"Your usual?" Asuka looked at Vic, one eyebrow cocked.

"Not today. Akari and I will wait for you two here." Vic met Light's eyes as he turned in surprise. "I saw you eyeing the coffee cart – I could use some myself." Vic winked.

Light nodded, ducking his head slightly. "Yeah. Coffee would go down good right now."

"Alright, you two." Asuka shot Vic a look Light couldn't read before turning to her son. "I bet I know what you –"

"I want a hot fudge sundae with everything." L's eyes were bigger than Light had ever seen them, which was saying something, and he thought he understood why L stared that way when he saw his mother's expression change from stern to doting.

"Just this once."

L's little face lit up with the biggest smile he'd ever seen. Light marveled as the boy hugged his mother, a muffled "Thank you" barely audible as he pressed into her side. He's . . . actually a happy little kid, Light thought, still staring.

"Why don't you leave your balloon here while we go inside?"

"No!" L's face went from sweet to stormy all at once, and he pulled the red balloon closer to him, holding the orb itself and not just its string.

"It'll be fine out here with us," Vic said. "You'll pop it if you squeeze like that."

"I am not squeezing it." L shot his father a petulant look before turning back to his mother. "It won't be in the way – I'll be careful."

Asuka sighed. "Alright then, let's go in." She gave Vic a long-suffering look over L's head as the two made their way into the shop.

There was no line at the coffee cart, and after a few minutes, Light found himself sitting with Vic at one of the tables. No one else was seated outside with them, though he occasionally glimpsed people strolling through the park or crossing the street a block or more away. Light started to wonder if people were avoiding them somehow, or if they even existed, but decided that made little sense. If I exist, then they must exist, he thought. Steam from the coffee rose lazily as if it sought to join its puffy brethren in the sky. Light raised his eyes and was surprised to see that Vic had been staring at him.

"I'm fairly adept at detecting when people are lying, just by the way, and I have rather excellent hearing." Vic leveled a look at him that seemed warm until he met his pale grey eyes – cold steel at his throat would have felt cozier. "What do you want with my son?"

"I . . . he just, reminds me of someone." Light felt stupid saying it so baldly, but he thought he'd better take the man at his word, spoken and not. "A friend."

"Someone you're looking for?"

"Someone I lost." It felt strange to say those words and mean them, as though he had kept a secret from himself. Cheeks warming, he dropped his eyes to stare at the wrought-iron weave that formed the tabletop.

"As a consequence of your actions."

Light's head snapped back up at the accusation, but he saw kindness now in Vic's eyes, and perhaps a mote of regret. Swallowing, Light struggled, grasping for words. "Your son . . ."

"Is not this friend." Vic's eyes flashed again. "But I think I understand now."

Light nodded, grateful to not have to explain further.

"Just so that you understand, however, I'll be clear. If you do or say anything even remotely harmful to my son, I will not simply destroy you – I will destroy everything you ever loved or wanted until you beg me for death." Vic's expression was still relatively placid, as though he was discussing the weather, but his eyes were sharp again. "Understood?"

Light kept still, not daring to move. "Understood."

"Splendid." Vic took a deep breath and leaned back in his chair to watch his wife and son, who were approaching with their ice cream – hers a simple one-scoop cone, his an absurdly large sundae, the hot fudge studded with nuts and gummi bears under a mound of whipped cream. Shaking his head, Vic laughed. "You're spoiling him, chere! He'll be so round in another year that his hands and feet will be all that stick out!"

Light wanted to laugh at the mental image, even while knowing that Vic was deliberately trying to break the tension after their chat, but his throat felt dry.

"Oh hush. At least he doesn't try to subsist on steak and frites alone." Asuka's eyes were warm as she gazed over the cone at her husband.

"I am not going to get fat," L stated as if he knew, setting the dish carefully in front of him, climbing into the chair and kneeling on it before proceeding to devour the ice cream one heaping spoonful after another, his balloon now tied to his right wrist.

Vic tousled his son's hair, earning a brief glare from the boy. "Well, you can't just think the calories away, no matter how much you use your brain."

L paused to glower at his father, almost as if to say "Oh yeah?" before resuming his consumption of the enormous treat, chocolate smearing his cheek and a dab of whipped cream on his nose.

Smile teasing his lips as he raised his coffee cup, Light watched as gobbet upon gobbet was deposited into the boy's mouth. "A friend of mine ate sweets all the time, but he was thinner than me." He sipped the hot liquid gingerly, watching as all three sets of eyes fixed upon him, two sets in reproach, one in eagerness.

"Really?"

"Yeah. Although," Light added as L's parents glared, "he wasn't in the best of health, and he was an insomniac."

"Hm." L held his spoon in a fist, so unlike his adult manner of holding things by his fingertips that it was jarring. "It would be worth it."

Light held his coffee in both hands, noticing that he felt a slight chill despite the warmth of the day. He chalked it up to an adrenaline come-down and took note of the way that L's parents deftly began a persuasive discussion of the merits of healthful eating habits, maintaining a rational rather than authoritarian tone. Asked to confirm his understanding, L mumbled his assent, but Light could tell that his mind was made up. The boy's eyes met his own over the diminishing mound if ice cream and a flicker of understanding passed between them. He knows I know this, he thought, and he knows I won't tell them. Light took another sip, his eyes still on the boy. It really is you in there.

"Akari was just telling me about a friend he once had, someone who reminded him of . . . someone we know." Victor's eyes flashed to his son's face, his wife's, and back to Light's.

"I see. Tell us more about this friend of yours, Akari." Asuka's tone was soothing and her gaze was placid, face tilted as though in shyness, but Light could sense keen intelligence behind those gentle eyes and knew he'd need to choose his words cautiously.

"He . . . was the smartest man I ever met. Despite some terrible personal habits, he was incredibly accomplished and an interesting conversationalist."

"I see. Accomplished at what, may I ask?" She smiled lightly.

"He was a detective." As soon as the words were out of his mouth, Light saw Asuka's face snap into a cool blankness, and at the barely heard intake of breath from her husband, she shot him another unreadable look.

"Is he dead?" L's blunt question in his piping voice shocked them all.

"Eru-kun!" Asuka admonished, her expression now appropriately motherly.

"He is." Light's voice was low but firm. He noticed that L kept his eyes locked with his.

"Did a bad man get him?"

"Yeah," Light said, his eyes dropping to the dark liquid beneath him.

"Then you have to get the bad man."

"The bad man won't be hurting anyone anymore." Light swallowed, the too-big gulp of coffee burning all the way down, causing him to wince. After a moment, he looked up to see the boy still staring at him, but with unexpected warmth in his eyes. It felt odd to Light to see such sympathy on the face of someone so young, but especially on someone who would become the man he knew, the man he'd killed, the man who would have no reason to feel sympathy toward him now if he were here.

"You should have gotten ice cream."

"Huh?" Light's eyes widened in confusion.

"Ice cream doesn't burn your mouth." L continued to shovel ice cream into his mouth, his plumped cheeks working.

Light was not aware that he was laughing until he heard it echoing back at him, gaining strength as though its source was elsewhere.


It was long past time now to stop suspending his disbelief, but the day had been so nice. The walk in the park and coffee and ice cream had been followed by another walk in the park, a game of catch, and a picnic. L had kicked off his shoes as soon as his parents had picked out a spot to sit on the grass, and he'd nearly thrown them in the bushes before they'd caught him. There had been moments when L seemed almost exactly the way he had as an adult, and other moments when he had seemed like any child. It was disquieting, and Light could not discern which disquieted him more, the unusual circumstances of his being in this place, or the possibility that L had been almost normal once.

After the picnic, Light had gotten L's parents to let him keep their restless son occupied while they rested on the blanket, assuring them that he and L would stay within their line of sight. "We could go chase butterflies," Light had said, pointing toward a patch of flowers. "That is absurd," L had replied. "You have to let them come to you." And sure enough, once they'd moved closer to the flowers, a butterfly had lit upon one of L's fingers, its sapphire wings moving slower than a heartbeat, before it had flitted away.

Whether it had been induced by youthful energy or sugar, L's running around wore Light down sooner than he had expected. His arms out at his sides, the boy airplaned between his parents on the blanket and Light, dashing away anytime Light got close.

"You're going to lose that balloon again if you keep doing that."

L stopped at Light's words, a serious look crossing his face. Before Light could reach him, he ran off toward an oak tree, not pausing to look back even when his mother called out "Eru-kun!"

"It's OK. I'll catch up to him." Light didn't even look in their direction as he headed toward the tree, toward the spot where the red orb bobbed, obstinately bright in the now fading sunlight. With a chill, he thought he knew what was coming as he hesitated next to the cobblestone path, taking in the dimming beauty of the rolling green landscape. He swallowed, determined now to face his fate, crossing the path. Light crested the hill upon which he had woken and sat down next to his quarry.

"I guess it was time I let it go anyway." The piping voice came.

Light looked up in surprise to see the red balloon floating aloft, climbing steadily into a sky that strained to match its hue, becoming a distant punctuation mark as he watched it go.

"It's free now." L's voice sounded thoughtful.

The wind ruffled their hair, and he looked over at the boy, whose arms were wrapped around his bent legs, eyes staring into the distance as they sat on the grass at the top of the hill. I see who you are. I know who you become. I wish we really had been friends. The feeling shocked Light, welling within him, and he dropped his eyes to see the boy's toes gripping the grass at intervals. Face after face popped into his mind, reminders assaulting him, but no face was clearer than his, not even his own father's. Why . . . Light closed the distance, wrapping his arms around the boy, burying his face in his hair. He smelled like vanilla, and strawberries, and grass, with just a whiff of the mustiness from old books. I'm sorry. Light felt a clenching in his chest. I'm sorry, L. Tears surprised his eyes, fleeing them for the safety of the boy's hair. I'm sorry for everything.

"Why are you sad?"

Light took a breath, shakily trying to form an adequate answer. "Because I'm going to miss you."

The boy placed a small hand on his arm in silent comfort. Light felt it even as he felt steel steps digging into his back. The boy was warm, the breeze was cool, but Light felt cold, as if the chill was emanating from within him. Staring at the boy's black hair, he could suddenly see nothing else until it seemed that he was passing through him as through a doorway.


A dimming view of honeyed light, wavering dust, and climbing rust shows him what the doorway is. The man, still faint and shimmering, still distant and shadowed, stares back, lifting his head to expose his eyes, wide open, never blinking, blacker and deeper than any night sky.

"I forgive you," the specter says, fading back into the shadows.

No. Light means to say it, but no sound meets his ears. I don't want to be forgiven. His eyes are closing, and he lets them, abruptly willing to accept nothingness.


Author's Note: This was my attempt to show Light some kindness and give him the opportunity to process regret. It only works in the context of the anime ending, if at all. This fic is in no way connected to my longer fic, Turn of the 8th Day. Having said that, though, I reserve the right to use the why-L's-name-is-L explanation in my TOT8D-connected fics.

In Light's vision, L is 5½ years old, which is the age he would have been, late in May, just prior to Light being conceived. Also, "chere" means "dear" in French, and "sauvou" is a made-up French diminutive meaning "wild one" – and when I say made-up, I mean I specifically made it up, so if you say it to a French speaker, they will likely look at you funny. I left the location vague and somewhat Euro-ish, and I left out any era cues, though L would have been that age in the 80's.

I purposely switched from present tense in the framing story to past tense in the middle to give the scene of Light in the warehouse more immediacy. I'm not entirely sure if I successfully kept Light or L in character, but this was interesting to write. Hope you liked it. ^_^