Seeking His Hand

Chapter Two

Light wakes up to the sound of Mother serving breakfast. There are bowls and spoons tinkling against each other. The air smells of cornmeal porridge and apple cider.

Light doesn't open his eyes yet. He likes to use the precious seconds after waking but before rising to savor the only kind of solitude he has: the privacy that comes with no one knowing you are awake but you.

Today will be filled with more plowing, more planting. There are sacks upon sacks of corn that need to go into the ground. It is what Light's entire day will be consumed with, except just before bed, when he will help Sayu with her arithmetic. He's teaching her, but the progress he sees is slower than he sees with the planting.

Every day this month will be the same.

With a valiant attempt at subtlety, Light swipes his hand underneath his pillow, from one end to the other. He doesn't really expect a letter to be there (there never has been one before). But he is nothing if not thorough. And if he is being promised to someone, he would rather know sooner than later.

There is something.

Light's heart stutters painfully in his chest and then sets off at a frighteningly fast pace. There is a letter. Right there against his fingers.

He cannot pretend to be asleep any more. He must read it. He absolutely must.

His eyes snap open and he sits bolt upright in bed, ripping the small envelope out from its hiding place. It is crisp and costly-looking. There is a small purple ribbon securing the flap closed and Light takes the end of it with trembling fingers. He wills himself to calm down. A teenager like him gets a letter like this every day, all around the country. He doesn't need to give himself a dizzy spell over it.

It's just his future, and the stranger that currently holds it.

His mother is currently busy at the hearth, still spooning porridge into bowls. Her back is to Light, which gives him a small window of opportunity. He can read the letter undisturbed.

Anxiously, but with care, Light reads every line. The Suitor's vocabulary is extensive. Light has never had the sort of language classes that would allow him to speak that way, but he reads whenever he can get his hands on a book, and he figures out those words that are unfamiliar through context.

To the Master of the Yagami Household, Mr. Soichiro Yagami:

While we have never been formally acquainted, I have been made aware, through various avenues, of your venerable honesty and reputation for diligence. I have no doubt that in matters of Family and Honor, you put such traits to great work. From these suppositions, I have confidence that a Suitor of either of your children would be put to great scrutiny.

Therefore, I address myself to you now.

I write to you as a Suitor of the most serious intent.

Your eldest child (a 'child' no longer, though you can perhaps excuse the limited diction of a Suitor in petition) will come of age this February, and, as I understand it, is yet un-Matched. It would be my great pleasure if you would do me the honor of entertaining my Suit, this Sunday hence, April 5th, at your esteemed residence.

I hope to answer to your satisfaction any and all questions you must surely have regarding my Profession and my Character. I am earnest in my Suit and desire nothing but the best for your beloved son.

Yours most sincerely, and respectfully,

L Lawliet

When he reaches the end of the letter, Light's mind finds itself blank with shock. Then, it spurs into action: conclusions and uncertainties together firing off at a rapid pace, like bullets from a pistol.

This Suitor…L Lawliet…he is educated.

Well educated.

Which means he is almost certainly well-off, and quite possibly wealthy. Quite possibly Gentry.

Aristocracy, even? Surely not. That would be one step from unthinkable.

How difficult to conceive of a high-born man petitioning for Light Yagami. Light knows that his dowry cannot be more than a fraction of what a high-born female's would be, and he is saddled with the added disadvantage of being male, which means no possibility of children.

Why would someone high born refuse to have children?

Maybe this Mr. Lawliet already has children?

What if he does? What if he doesn't? Neither here nor there…not the matter at hand. The matter at hand: why is he petitioning for someone like Light?

Light knows the way the world works. Even if he is intelligent, even if he is moral, even if he is well-mannered, or handsome, or tall, there is no making up for the unfortunate truths of his life: he is not moneyed, and neither is his family. He is not educated. He is not employed in a trade, or an apprenticeship. He is the eldest son of a Tradesman, which makes him little more than a female in most of the world's eyes. And in all of the world's eyes, he is not more than a high-born female. Men of low families either manage to convince a female of a low family to marry them for love, or are married off themselves to the most advantageous male Suitor possible.

That is often the punishment for being born low: no children to carry on the family name.

Certainties so far: Mr. Lawliet is unorthodox (the full extent of which Light cannot yet know). He is educated. He has some of the best handwriting this side of the East river. He is petitioning for Light's hand in marriage.

And lastly, he has convinced Light's father that he would be a good husband for Light.

The last one is the most telling. For anyone, much less a perfect stranger, to convince Light's father of their sincerity, they would have to be either a) actually sincere or b) a very talented liar. Father is particularly skilled in telling a snake from a swan. He is not unassailable, of course, but…

"Oh my goodness! Light, you found it!"

The voice is Mother's. She is wiping her hands frantically with her apron and rushing toward Light. When she reaches him, she gathers him close and kisses his forehead, pride pouring out of every inch of her.

"I just knew we'd find you the perfect Match. Isn't it wonderful? A Gentryman! Your father says his carriage was absolutely luxurious!" Mother is beaming as she speaks. "And he said he was very polite, and just as honest as any one of us. You know what sort of reputation high-born men have…but Mr. Lawliet didn't seem one inch of that, your father says. And he says with a Match like that, you would never have to worry for money one day in your life! Oh, Light, it's exactly what you've always deserved. You've always been such a good boy and now here you are: this is the gift God gives to those of pure hearts!"

Light smiles politely. He understands that Mother is not trying to make him feel as though he is a pitiable, unfortunate creature who has happened, through luck, to have been given a way out of his circumstances. She is simply glad that her child won't reach adulthood only to die of starvation on the streets. Nevertheless, Light cannot help but feel a rising sense of indignance at her words. He is not helpless. He is not weak. He doesn't need someone else to save him from his own problems.

Similarly, how exactly did he "deserve" a stranger coming in and swooping him out of the house and home he'd known since birth?

"And he isn't very far from your own age! Not one of those wealthy old bachelors just wanting a young buck to clean their mansions for them," his mother continues, oblivious to Light's offense.

He adds one more certainty to the list: L Lawliet is relatively young.

"Mom," Light says quietly. "Surely if he's rich, he can afford a maid or two."

"Well, certainly," Mother says, waving one of her hands about. "But it's nice to know that he isn't planning to use you as an employee, isn't it?"

Just planning to use me as a bed-warmer, Light thinks bitterly. So much better.

He doesn't voice his thoughts. Nothing good comes from arguing with his parents, and proving himself right wouldn't better his situation in the slightest way anyway. Light knows that his parents have only ever done their best for him. They both think this L Lawliet is what's best – that's the only reason Father would ever agree to talk to him. So Light won't fight the situation.

Not yet, anyway. Not unless he's sure there's something to fight about.

He smiles and nods vaguely at his mother, who nods briskly and brushes crumbs off of her apron.

"Sayu should be coming down for breakfast any moment…" she says, half to herself. "She has Schoolhouse today….she can't be late again….Sayu! SAYU!" Mother yells, turning her face to the ceiling, as if Sayu will be compelled to listen if she only faces the right direction.

"I'm coming!" Sayu shouts back, from the upper floor. Seconds later, there are hurried footsteps pounding down the stairs.

Then Sayu comes into view, hair braided back and dress rumpled but otherwise in place. She is smiling brightly, as she always is, and her eyes are shining with excitement. Sayu loves school. Not because it's a place of learning, of course. It's the other kids that she loves. Sayu is a social creature, which Light can understand intellectually but not intrinsically.

"Good morning, Mom!" she sings out. "Good morning, Light!"

Light braces himself, knowing what is coming next. Three….two…one…

Sayu's eyes quickly sweep over Light's face and fall to what he is holding. They linger there before she gasps out, "Light! Is that…oh, my stars! It is! Light! You got your letter!"

Light hopes very much that his Father doesn't make quite the amount of fuss that his mother and sister seem inclined to. Father has always been more stoic than either of them. But, Light remembers, he is still quite capable of making a scene, albeit in his own way.

"Good morning, Sayu," Light replies. "Yeah….finally got one."

"One? Light, that's going to be the letter!" Sayu insists. "I can feel it! Haru Toshino has gone through four letters already. Can you believe it? Ha! Nobody is working out for her. But yours will be the one and only. I just know it."

"How could you possibly know that, Sayu?" Light asks, moving to tuck the letter under his pillow again.

"Wait!" she protests. "I want to see it!"

"Sayu," Mother admonishes mildly. "Letters of Petition are supposed to be private. And you're going to be late for Schoolhouse if you don't eat your breakfast now."

Sayu throws herself into her wooden chair at the table, crossing her arms over each other and looking every inch the thirteen-year-old girl she is. "That's cow dung," she mutters.

"Sayu!" Mother exclaims.

"Well it is!" complains Sayu. "Father got to see it, didn't he?"

"Of course he did," Light says. "It was addressed to him, wasn't it?"

"And you got to see it!" Sayu continues, facing Mother and ignoring Light's comment.

"Your father generously allowed me to read it, yes, Sayu. I'm Light's mother and he thought I would enjoy seeing it."

"See?! And Light's read it too – so everyone has read it but me! It's not fair!"

"You'll read your own letter when you're of the age to get one, Sayu, and Light won't see that one. So it will be fair." Mother tells her, placing a bowl, spoon, and a glass of cider in front of her. "I won't hear another word about it. Now eat."


That night at dinner, Father comes home early, which is unheard of. Light can't remember the last time he's ever done that. Work at the police station isn't exactly nonstop, in a town like theirs, but there's never a shortage of things to do, either. Only a handful of men run the entire place. So Father is often not back home until after dark.

Light has never been allowed to go with him to the station, but he hears things. He is a good listener. Many of the neighbors are terrible gossips, so Light knows about the market theft last week and the suspicious death of the deputy mayor, Mr. Founder. He was found dead in his home, apparently of old age, but his housekeeper managed to discover a cracked vial of belladonna in his fireplace the following morning. Surely Father has been busy with these occurrences and wouldn't leave the perpetrators to roam free.

The world is rotten, Light thinks. Rotten and unfair.

There are only a handful of events monumental enough to warrant an early homecoming in Father's eyes.

"Hello, everyone," he is saying as he takes his place at the table. Food is already set out on it, and the rest of the family is halfway into the meal. Today, like most days, they are eating crusty bread and cheese, with hasty pudding. Mother has set out just enough candles to light the house dimly. She is trying to conserve. They cast flickering shadows across all the walls, but Light doesn't mind in the least. A bit of darkness affords a lot of privacy.

"Hello, dear," Mother replies warmly, jumping out of her seat to prepare a plate for him. In all his years, Light has never seen his Father set food upon his own plate. "You're home early!"

"Dad!" Sayu sings out. "Guess what? Today at Schoolhouse? I got the highest marks in the class on our arithmetic exam!"

Father smiles and pats Sayu's head. "Very good. Your hard work with Light is paying off. Isn't that right, son?"

Light nods. He swirls his pudding around in his bowl without taking another bite. Now that he has figured out the reason Father is home early, he finds that he has lost his appetite.

"The men at the station told me they could handle closing up for the night. It was very generous of them. We haven't caught that market thief, true enough, but Sargent Wakahisa believes we will have him cornered tomorrow. And Sargent Wakahisa has never yet been wrong." Father explains all of this with his characteristic honesty. He speaks of being directed by another man with no resentment or ego.

Light hopes that one day, he will be able to do the same.

Then, belatedly, he realizes that he will never have the chance to work at all. His future is all but set in stone: he is to be someone else's husband, and nothing more.

"And Light has some big news of his own, dear," Mother pointedly reminds Father. She circles the table to put Father's food in front of him, along with a spoon, and a glass of water.

"That's very true," Father says. He gives Light a warm, proud smile.

Light smiles back, eyes downcast. He can't quite bring himself to meet his Father's eyes. Nothing Light has done has led him to the Offer he received. Light's never met L Lawliet, and as far as he can reason, the man only petitioned for his hand because Light's face is more symmetrical than most.

"So, son…" Father continues, taking a spoonful of pudding. "What do you think of your Match?"

Light has no idea what to say. He doesn't know his Match, and that's the entire problem. While he contemplates what reply to give, a second train of thought takes off inside his mind: things he knows for certain about Mr. Lawliet, and what things might be reasoned from those facts.

Someone close to my age…someone well-educated….someone unusual, but either a very skilled con artist or genuinely trustworthy…someone whose name is not well known (or is unknown) in the community, apart from this Suit. Someone who would choose - not just settle for - a male Match. Someone wealthy.

There aren't so many places that Mr. Lawliet could be hiding, if hiding is what he is doing. The town isn't so very big, and all the modest houses are filled with families that Light already knows. Mr. Lawliet is definitely living in one of the larger ones, then. Living in anything smaller than an Artisan or Tradesman's home would ruin his reputation, even if he would prefer his wealth to be inconspicuous.

Something tells Light that he would.

A map of the outlying manors begins to draw itself inside Light's head. He doesn't know any of the owners personally, of course. But he's heard of who occupies at least two, and that's a start, at least.

"I really appreciate the effort you and Mother put into selecting the best Suitor you could for me," Light says. He pushes a bit of bread around on his plate. "I have every hope that everything will work out with Mr. Lawliet."

It isn't a lie. Light knows that as long as L Lawliet isn't some kind of scoundrel, his Offer letter is the Yagami family's ticket to security. A wealthy son-in-law would mean Mother and Father would be taken care of after Father can no longer work. And a wealthy brother-in-law would mean that Sayu's chances of receiving an advantageous Offer would increase once she came of age herself. So Light does fervently hope that this Suit works out.

Even if he is nervous, and even if he resents having to be Offered for in the first place.

On the other hand, Light is also well aware of himself and his limits. If Mr. Lawliet is a scoundrel, Light cannot and will not bring himself to share a bed with the man – no matter the potential advantages to his family.

So Light must know what sort of man Mr. Lawliet is before the wedding. In fact, it would be better to have this information before the Match Celebration.

"I'm sure it will, Light." Father says confidently. "Mr. Lawliet is a good man, and you are a good boy. It's a good match. To be honest with you, I'm so happy at the prospect that it's the main reason I left work a little earlier than usual tonight. The family should celebrate our son and brother's engagement."

Mother beams, Sayu sulks (no doubt still upset that she is not privy to the letter), and Light contemplates diving headfirst into his hasty pudding.

"Light, that's something else to consider. Celebrations!" Mother exclaims. "We need to plan your Match Celebration!"

Maybe it would be better to skip diving into his pudding, and simply allow himself to fall into the backyard pond.

"What sort of colors do you fancy for the dinner?" asks Mother. "I know you've always been partial to reds…"

"I'm really not particular, Mother," Light answers. "Decorate with whatever is easiest for you."

"Liiiigggghhhhhtt!" whines Sayu. "This is your Match Celebration! Don't you want to pick all the colors and the food and the songs and the guest list and the –"

"I'm not picky," Light tells Mother. "Really. Just make choices based on whatever is easiest for you. Or most economical. I'm sure it will turn out lovely."

"Are you sure, Light? You know that you can ask for anything…we've saved up a bit for this, you know."

"I know. I'm just not that particular. Really."


For Light, books have always been difficult to come by. When he was still in Schoolhouse, he would read and read and read, devouring novels and histories, textbooks and ledgers. Anything he could get his hands on. But now that Light no longer has any classes to go to, he has no more books to read.

Except one.

Father keeps a book in his and Mother's room: a small black one, with tattered covers. It has been flipped through and referenced many times. Inside the book is a list of all the street addresses in town, and all the family names associated with them. There are also dates next to each listing, marking when the information was recorded.

Light needs that book.

He needs to look up the Lawliet family name. If it is not listed - and he doesn't think it will be - Light may still be able to figure out where Mr. Lawliet lives, based on a process of identifying those names likely to be pseudonyms and visiting each of those residences until he comes upon the man himself. A process of elimination. Tedious, but likely to be effective.

It is work that Light will gladly perform. He needs to meet Mr. Lawliet and test him. The only certain way to get a reliable judge of his character is to interact with him face to face.

One cannot win with defense alone. To win, one must strike first. One must attack.

Over the course of several days, Light takes advantage of times in which Mother is occupied outside of her and Father's room to go in and study the book. He makes careful notes on the locations of the larger manors in the area, as well as the names associated with them. As expected, the name of Lawliet is not on any of the pages. After eliminating those surnames that Light is already familiar with (usually through neighborhood gossip), and those surnames whose histories are so far-reaching and influential that they were taught to him in Schoolhouse, Light has two remaining.

It is among these two surnames, these two manors, that Light will find his man.

He keeps the list of them, along with the street addresses, in his pocket at all times. He needs to be prepared to visit the manors at a moment's notice, if the opportunity arises.

Light is prepared for the possibility that this method won't yield results for him. Maybe Mr. Lawliet is too well-guarded to allow his street address to appear in any ledgers at all. But it is the best plan Light has, and he will follow it through. He can't simply sit by and wait. It would be unthinkable.


It is Sunday, and the Yagami family is at church. Sundays are always reserved for church. Oftentimes, Light will find himself there for most of the day. In the beginning, there is prayer. Each person of able body spends one hour in prostrated position while they (ostensibly) pray to the gods for health, wealth, peace, and happiness. Not necessarily in that order.

Over the past few years, Light has noticed that Father can tolerate prostrated position less and less. Sometime in the future, he will join the group of elders who can no longer participate.

After prayer comes sermon. One of the elders will stand and recite oral histories of the gods. They may or may not include personal experiences demonstrating the power of the gods in their lives. Sermon can be over in fifteen minutes or several hours, depending on which elder speaks. Light still remembers a sermon of particular length, in which an elder recited her entire family tree back six generations.

After sermon comes fellowship. This is the part of Sundays that Light finds most tiring. It is essentially a buffet and social gathering. Every family brings a dish and proceeds to sample other dishes, while making small talk with most members of the town. They gather outside of the church house, in a large, open field with few trees. Light has never found himself to have much in common with anyone. He forces himself to politely engage a few churchgoers in conversation, but never feels any satisfaction from the exchanges. He always ends up wishing he had a book with which to occupy himself.

This particular Sunday, however, Light is in luck. Mother, Father, and Sayu have all been sucked into conversation with Mistress Sasaki – the elder known for giving the longest sermon in Light's memory. Light sees that even Mother, who is nearly infinite in her patience, is yawning behind her hand. Light escaped the quicksand of Mistress Sasaki's conversation by citing extreme thirst and excusing himself to the cider keg.

All of this means that Light will have a certain amount of time to execute his plan. With any luck, Mistress Sasaki will have his family occupied for over an hour. Long enough to take a carriage ride across town, have a short conversation, and return to the church fairgrounds with no one the wiser. If anyone does notice Light's absence, he can always claim a heat spell and say that he was lying under a tree, dozing.

Time is therefore of the essence. Light must find…

"Oh my stars! Light Yagami!"

Sweet, sweet fortune.

Matsuda, the town taxi-carriage driver, is approaching, waving one hand eagerly in Light's direction. Matsuda is only a few years older than Light and has known him since childhood. He is ordinary-looking in every way. While his extreme extraversion is sometimes tiresome, Light appreciates Matsuda's genuine good heartedness. He is also counting this quality to assist him today.

"Hello, Matsuda," Light answers. Matsuda claps him on the back when he reaches him, a huge smile painted on his face.

"Congratulations on your Match! Everyone's talking about it!" he exclaims enthusiastically. Rather like a puppy, Matsuda is always enthusiastic. About everything.

"I'm sure not everyone can be that interested in it," Light murmurs. At least, he hopes not.

"They are, though!" Matsuda insists. "They say a mysterious rich guy Offered for you. Is it true?!"

Light glances left and right, making sure no one is paying attention to their conversation. Then, he takes Matsuda by the forearm.

"Whoa, what –" Matsuda sputters, as Light leads him to the edge of the fairgrounds.

Light stops when he is certain they are out of earshot of anyone in the vicinity.

"Yes, it's true." Light answers, wanting to get the news out of the way. Matsuda gasps hugely, but before he can respond, Light continues. "Matsuda, I need a favor. Can you take me to Silver Hills?"

Matsuda blinks several times, like his brain is straining to follow Light's words. For all Light knows, it is.

"Silver Hills? Why would you want to go to Silver Hills?"

"It's just something I have to do. I can't ask Mother or Father for fare money…they can't know that I'm going. I'll only be there for a little while…a few minutes at most…can you take me there?"

Of the two addresses that Light has narrowed Mr. Lawliet's location down to, he has no way of deducing which one is more likely to be the one. Since he has no evidence one way or the other, he has chosen based on a hunch. He has a fifty-fifty chance. If Light has chosen wrongly, he will simply have to wait for his next opportunity to reach the other manor. And hope that such an opportunity presents itself before the Match Celebration. Mother is planning it as quickly as she can.

If he has chosen correctly, so much the better. For in that case, Light can implement his next plan.

"Why can't you tell your parents? Is this something dangerous?" Matsuda asks. He looks at Light suspiciously.

"Nothing dangerous at all," Light says with a smile. He does his best to appear the charming, good boy he has always been. "I just need to see somebody, that's all."

"Who?"

Light feels himself growing impatient. The clock is ticking. "Does it matter, Matsuda? Can you take me? Please?"

Matsuda stares at Light for several beats, then makes a final-sounding "hmm" noise. He says, "I'll take you on one condition."

"What would that be?"

"You have to tell me why you want to go to Silver Hills and who you're meeting there. You know it's not allowed for a Matched person to meet somebody in secret!"

Light sighs. Technically, he isn't allowed to spend time with anyone but immediate family without others present. Even his own Suitor.

Light feels his window of opportunity growing ever smaller. But he may not get another chance like this for some time…he has no choice.

"Alright….but Matsuda, you mustn't tell a soul."

"I won't! I promise!" says Matsuda earnestly.

"The truth is….I'm going to meet my Suitor."

Matsuda gasps even more dramatically than before. He claps his hand to his open mouth, then rips it away just as quickly. "Light! You can't do that! You know what will happen if you're caught fraternizing with your Suitor! You'll –"

"I'm not going to be fraternizing with him. I'm just going to meet him. I can't just marry somebody I've never met, Matsuda. Please try to understand. I know a lot of people do it. I know it's not that uncommon. But it's just not me. I have to make sure he's at least a decent man. You can understand that, can't you? Technically, I won't even be speaking to him in private. I'll meet him at the door. You can watch us from the carriage. The whole time."

Light declines to tell Matsuda that he may or may not have Mr. Lawliet's address correct. There will be time to admit to being incorrect about it later, if he has to. He also declines to say that if L Lawliet is not a decent man, Light will do everything in his power to sabotage the entire Match.

Matsuda's brown eyes nearly melt with sympathy. Light hates seeing that pitying, understanding look directed toward him. He clenches his jaw and bears it.

"Alright, Light. You know you can always count on me to help you out. I'm your friend." Matsuda takes Light's shoulder in his hand and squeezes it. "Come on. The carriage is right over there. I know I'm not supposed to be working on Sunday, but….this is for a good cause."

"Thank you, Matsuda. I appreciate that."

Climbing into Matsuda's taxi-carriage, Light reflects on the subject of this Sunday's sermon. It was humility. Clearly, the gods have seen fit to teach him the meaning of the word.


Author's Note:

Thank you all for the lovely comments/reviews, kudos, favorites, and follows! Each one motivates me that much more to continue this project. :)

Thank you also, as always, to BC3. She has provided many more plot points and outlining for this fic. I couldn't be more grateful.

If any of you are wondering, here is a description of hasty pudding (from Wikipedia, because I'm quite the refined scholar):

"Hasty pudding is a pudding or porridge of grains cooked in milk or water. In the United States, it invariably refers to a version made of ground corn."

For those who are unfamiliar, belladonna is a substance used in the ancient times for poison, pain relief, and beautification. The word literally translates to "beautiful woman." Roman women would place drops of it into their eyes to dilate their pupils, which they believed increased their attractiveness. Belladonna is still in use today, often mixed with opium, to serve as a pain reliever. It is a controlled substance because of its ability to produce hallucinations and delirium.

Look at that: fanfic and pharmacology together. Lol

Coming up next: Light and L make contact!

- Magic