Disclaimer: Death Note is not mine. I struggle too much drawing L for the manga to belong to me. ^_^
…
Chapter 7: New Beginning
After a while the sobs still and the tears stop, and Light is able to pull his head away from the crook between L's shoulder and neck. He flushes at the droplets turning L's shirt translucent.
L hides behind a mask of indifference as he waits for Light to speak. Light extricates himself out of the tangled legs and arms of their current position. "Sorry," he mutters.
L waves a hand dismissively He follows Light's lead and stands also. "This hallway won't be picked up by the cameras in headquarters. It is Watari's private quarters." The admission loosens some of the anxiety clenched in Light's chest. He nods, his gaze sliding from one end of the hall to the other. He calculates how much of this must have been fore planned, but his head feels too small, like an over-inflated balloon stretching against his skull. He tries to sniff away some of the congestion built up like cobwebs in his nose.
"Are you ready to talk?" L presses his pinky to his lips, biting down and tearing part of the nail from his fingernail. When Light says nothing, L continues speaking, voice distorted by his chewing of his fingernails—pinky, ring finger, middle, pointer and thumb. "Light-kun suffers emotional trauma from what Light-kun sees as an unfair confinement and subsequent faux murder attempt by his loved and respected father.
"Light-kun controls the symptoms with endorphins by harming himself." A pause. Light can only gape at L. The detective is spot on, even deducing thoughts Light would never utter aloud. Logically, the pieces fit. However, this isn't a logic game, and Light feels acid rising in his throat at L's explanations.
L bends his knees slightly, shrugging his body weight closer to the ground so he is looking up at Light. Light imagines if they were sitting, L would be perched on his toes. "Light-kun's self injury is progressing."
"What do you mean, Ryuzaki," Light smiles, a charming smile he uses with Misa to placate her crush on him. His stature rises and confidence smoothes his features. "It's just one—"
L whips around, pulling at the chain. Light stumbles forward before righting himself. "One cut, Light-kun." He shoves a finger at Light, pressing the digit into the soft skin of his cheek along a tear track. "One cut after weeks of scratches."
It was as if a light bulb suddenly flickered to life in L's head. The detective retracts his finger, placing his hand against Light's covered arm. "Scratches that started when Light-kun accidently cut himself." Then the light fades, leaving L's face ashen, dead. He speaks in a normal manner, using word choices that sound odd coming from him, "You've been doing this since early last month, and I didn't notice?"
Light wonders briefly if he should confirm L's suspicions, but the look on L's face—the suddenly exhausted appearance proves he already knows.
…
"Talk," Light chokes as L shoves him on a plush couch the next day in one of the rooms in Watari's quarters. He stares into the confused face of Matsuda.
"Excuse me, Ryuzaki. What are—" L whips his head around to face Matsuda.
"Be quiet, Matsuda-san," he murmurs. Once Light relaxes back into the couch, crossing his legs, L also sits, cross-legged. Matsuda and Light glance at him; L sighs. "This doesn't require high deductive reasoning," he offers as an explanation.
"Matsuda-san, Light-kun wants to talk to you—" Light snaps his head up to meet L's face.
"I do?" he asks, mentally conveying his horror and disbelief at L's unconventional approach to therapy—or at least, he assumes this is supposed to be therapy.
"You do," L replies, shrugging his shoulders, silently alerting Light that he has the option of revealing less savory aspects of Light's affliction. Light bites back a sigh, teeth sinking into his cheek. When the pain soothes his tensions about this meeting, Light opens his eyes to see L crouching inside his personal space. He stares into L's eyes, recognizing the alertness, the anger, the promise to reveal his self injury all within the gray orbs.
After a long moment, he begins to speak to Matsuda, going through typical pleasantries, until the subject of Kira breaches the conversation, then Light reveals the fake execution. Light speaks all he can about that evening, gaining momentum as the words tumble out in a cathartic divulgence of information and painful memories, feeling his heart lighten.
When Matsuda jumps up and shakes L, Light realizes he does feel slightly better finally admitting to his nightmares.
"What were you thinking, Ryuzaki?" Matsuda yells while shaking L. Matsuda drops his hands from the tops of L's shoulders to his upper chest, twisting the fabric of the detective's white shirt between his fingers. L slaps away Matsuda's hands, curling in himself on the other side of the couch.
"Matsuda-san, Ryuzaki's action are justified," Light says in immediate defense of L. He feels pity for the older man, as L further hunches in upon himself.
"But, Light-kun, he detained you even after the killings had started again—" Matsuda steps back from L.
L reacts by digging his fingers into the wrinkles of his pants, trembling slightly; Light's eyes widen as he sees L's fingernails claw against the jeans around his ankles. "He already apologized." Light gazes at Matsuda, resolutely looking away from L.
…
"Ryuzaki," Light speaks whilst typing notes into a computer document. "I know you're not feeling up to it, but come over here for a second."
L glances over at Light, before, reluctantly pulling himself out of his chair where he had been facing away from the computer screens, eyes glazed over in thought.
"Take a close look at this," Light continues; still staring intently into his own computer screen, ignoring that L's stare came to rest on his covered arm, before also facing the computer screen filled with charts and figures about Yotsuba's finances. "It can't be coincidence."
L smiles widely. The grin stretches his across his face with childlike impudence. He peers into Light's computer screen, resting a hand on Light's shoulder to support his body weight as he memorizes the facts and data. Light stiffens, then relaxes into L's hand on his shoulder noting the detective's downright euphoric impish grin.
This is the first time L has smiled in two weeks.
…
Later that night, after the task force headquarters empties out and dusk falls, Light unearths the glass shard from the front of his khaki pants pocket and hands it to L as a closed fist. L holds out his own hand, widening his eyes and tilting his head, and Light slowly curls his fingers back, revealing the shard. L's face lights in recognition.
L plucks the shard out of Light's hand by index finger and thumb, holding it above his face, inspecting, even as slivers of light dance along the jagged edges.
"Light," he says aloud after a long moment, dropping the honorific as he breathes Light's name out, pronouncing it in English, accentuating the final consonant (Layht), rather down the vowel. "Thank you, Light-kun," L finishes in Japanese, mind providing information on his location even as he is stunned by Light's confession, admission.
…
As he holds Higuchi's Death Note in hand, while jamming a needle into the tender flesh of his thumb to write down Higuchi's name on the scrap of paper from the Death Note hidden in his watch, Light tells himself the pain, the blood, is just part of the plan—not wonderful, calming…
finis
…
A/N: Did you notice it?
