Disclaimer: I don't own Death Note.

"Voice," Light asks, for lack of better way of addressing his friend. "Do you have a name?"

Light is curious. Maybe Voice was once like him, and ended up in a different body?

Voice smirks. He has been waiting for that question.

'Trying to get rid of me, Kira?' For anyone else, that sentence would have angered Light; it is difficult for it to not sound like an insult or taunt. But Voice is different. The purring of his voice and flick of his tongue makes "Kira" sound like a compliment, like he is genuinely proud that he is able to call him by the title.

"Even if I had a Death Note," Light replies, "I wouldn't do anything to you."

So that was his confession.

Voice smiles again. 'Is that so?'

Light admits to liking Voice too much to want to kill him.

'Well, then...' Voice moves, the sound of his words changing position, no longer inside Light's skull. The warmth of breath tickles the boy's neck, and the feeling of lips pressed against his ear sending a shudder of delight down the boy's spine, whether or not there is even another body in the room no longer bring of any relevance, the overwhelming feel of him and his touch driving electricity down every nerve, sanity or insanity or the whole wide world insignificant.

'You can call me "Ryuzaki".'

The electricity bill of one day alone must have been enough to put the average man in heavy debt in those months spent at the Kira Headquarters (something of a immature name now that Light thought about it); saying the cost of keeping the place running was "through the roof" probably wasn't an overreaction, even with it being a skyscraper. It was all necessary, though, and the seemingly endless piles of money L had accumulated may as well be growing between his toes as a fungi for all he cared, as long as it was there.

"We'll still be meeting on a weekly basis. That is all."

Their heads tilted up at fairly uncomfortable angle, the members of the group blinked up at the giant wall monitor (minus the head detective, who probably never blinked once in all the time he had been literally chained to his Kira subject), the feeling of tension slowly weakening from the phone call just moments before.

"That went well." L declared. The boy attached to his wrist gave a small "Yeah." in agreement, too unsatisfied by his blunder to feel any enthusiasm.

"You really are quite amazing, Light-kun.". Was that... a compliment? "Not only did you manage to delay the killings, but you also set up Namikawa as a potential mole for us. Sounded like exactly like the kind of thing I would do; and you thought of it quicker than I did. At this rate..."

It was a little depressing. All this praise from the most emotionally dead bastard, and it was all fake. Just another test that Light would inevitably glide through without error, doing nothing to prove anything to anyone. Of course, that was to be expected. Why had he bothered to think otherwise? Nothing L said was ever genuine.

"...If I end up dying, somehow, it's quite possible that you would be capable of succeeding me."

The game was in motion, the pieces were set, and the opponent dealt his move. At the time, his final goal was different, but the motives for playing were the same: proving his innocence. There had never been a possibility that Light's life wasn't on the line.

But he was given his challenge, and he responded as the innocent should, revealing his opponent's plan to the entire room, even when the most beautiful prize of succeeding the world's greatest detective was placed in his reach, offered to him like a child a shiny new toy.

And yet, even after denying it, the man persisted. He was far too tenacious for it to not be infuriating.

It was one of his best qualities.

Light hated that.

"Ryuzaki..."

Grabbing L by his shoulders, which were instantly tense to the sudden touch as if disgusted, the teenager lowered himself to meet the eyes of his nemesis.

"Do you think that I'm actually capable of becoming a murderer? Kira? Even after I helped you catch him? Do I seem like that kind of person to you?"

Everything was all fake, something that would never had any hope of changing. Every word was plastic. Every smile was artificial. Their lives had become an entertainment for the Gods, and their scripts had already been written; it was just a matter of performing them.

"Yes you do. I've always thought so."

They had been practised to perfection a long, tiresome time ago.

Beyond Birthday jolted awake, the sensation of something extremely unpleasantly foot-shaped slamming into his face awakening him, even if it had only been in his dreams. Rare as they were, they made up for it in their vividness, often leaving him bewildered for several moments as to how he had ended up in whatever location he had collapsed in. It wasn't enough to say that he was a true insomniac, rather that he just had difficulty sleeping. Too regularly did he battle the urge to sleep, always losing. The bags under his eyes weren't nearly as pronounced as L's, a fact which annoyed him thoroughly. Sleepless nights without ill effect was an achievement in Whammy's House, and even if it was an ugly one, Light still hated to be beaten. Besides, what good was he if he had a single flaw?

He rolled over, the glowing red numbers radiating from his bedside clock illuminating his otherwise dark room, ruining the chance of regaining sleep, should he have wanted it.

He did not.

Even should the appearance of a restless night have to be forged with make-up, the dream had shaken him, and even in his mind, seeing L that close up was enough to keep him awake for a while.

3:07

'I could go the library for a couple of hours, I guess... It's probably already occupied at this hour, though.'

It had been over nine years since Light had arrived at Whammy's House when he was six-years-old, nine years for him to learn the awkward ways of the household, and nine years to follow the trend.

It had been nine years since he had been given his single letter, the only name that he was now known by publicly, along with it his place in the orphanage. His title.

B.

Back-up.

Back-up.

As in, not the original. As in, not L.

As in, fucking L's fucking back-up in case he dies, which he wouldn't, because his fucking lifespan ends when Kira kills him.

Oh yes, he had met the son of a bitch. He had been face to face with the child-version of the man he had ending up murdering; the man he had overcame; the failure of their battle. And after his defeat, he had the insolence to... to...

To exist?

The Death Note wasn't going to be dropped in the human world for several more years. Until that time, the original Light Yagami had yet to defeat L, even if it had already happened for Beyond Birthday. It couldn't exactly be the detective's fault for being alive before he died.

No, that was fine. Light had gained the position of succeeding L before. He would just have to do it again.

Looking back on it, Beyond noted as he sat up on his bed, clicking his neck from side to side, not much had changed. Earning his trust, becoming his heir, and destroying him. Even in his dreams, he suspected he would never be free of the man.

It had been a brief meeting, to say the least.

Only a few moments, in fact.

Which was plenty of time.

Enough time for Beyond to see his face.

Enough time to see his name and his lifespan.

Enough time to suddenly realise that, no, Light wasn't going to become the real L and have his perfect world obtained with the grace and simplicity that he deserved to achieve it with, as all rightful Gods should.

And it was more than enough time to punch him in the eye.

It must have left a nasty bruise (but he wouldn't meet him again for many years and was not granted the pleasure of seeing it).

But after his outburst, Light is calm. Nonchalant, even.

'You're very relaxed about this.' Ryuzaki commentates.

The boy smiles and holds his hands to his sides in a "What can you do?" kind of way.

"It doesn't matter." He says. "I expected that might happen, though it's pretty weird that we look so alike." He admires his reflection in the glass of the window.

"All I have to do is get to Japan. If I can somehow get to the Death Note before I first picked it up-"

'NO!'

Light flinches, the sound of the yell burning inside his head and causing his eyes to involuntarily close, taking him a second to regain his composure, completely caught off-guard and unprepared.

'...No, don't do that. You can't cheat now, not when you're this far.'

"...Cheat?" The rigidity of his body hurts.

'It's the same game, isn't it? Even after L died, he still continued to play using his successors. This is just the same. You may know what will happen in the future, but don't abuse that knowledge. There are much better ways of getting to L without running away from him. Don't you want to thank him for being such a good opponent during the Kira case?'

Ryuzaki's voice is inviting, practically seductive, and if there were any threats he has hidden them well. He tempts Light with offers of competition and challenges that always have a way of enticing him even without that most captivating voice.

At some point he has become a puppet, and it surprises him that he didn't mind, even if it would have made him physically sick to think about in the past.

'Become the next L, and surpass the original. Become him. Become identical to him, and his perfect back-up. If L's a genius, then B's an extreme genius. If L's a freak, then B's an extreme freak.'

"...And B will shatter the sanity of the world's greatest detective into shards, and use the shards to cut his throat."

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