Title: Life Imitating Art

Chapter Twelve: Working Through the Breakdown


"L?"

Watari glanced over at the young man curled into a fetal position against the furthest corner of the couch, staring adamantly at the door which no doubt held Yagami Raito, the only man Watari had seen thus far that had been able to subdue the world's three greatest detectives.

"Do you require anything I could get for you, sir?" Watari's genial voice bounced off the walls, doing nothing to lighten the load on L's shoulders as he hunched over his knees even further.

"I do not need anything at this moment, Watari. Please take your leave." The older man internally cringed at the sound of the familiar tone of L's monotone, echoing back to years of apathetic solitude that the elderly gentlemen had thought the detective had finally gotten over.

"Of course," Was the mustached man's immediately reply, wincing at the thought of leaving L alone when he was so clearly distressed about something. "I did not mean to disturb you in your thoughts, sir."

Though the comment was made without thinking, L still felt the sting behind the older man's words nonetheless.

"I shall be in the kitchen if you need me, L."

With that, Watari left the 25-year-old detective with his own thoughts once again.


"Is it almost time yet?!" Ryuuk huffed as he did a handstand, bored out of his mind. One of the many reasons he stuck with this particular human was because of his interesting habits. Yet, the party could only last for so long before things got boring again…

"I'm just setting everything up for our guests, Ryuuk." The dark-haired man grinned as he patted the fresh sheets against the bed, his eyes gleaming with strange delight. "Wouldn't want them to be uncomfortable once they got here, now would we?"

Ryuuk chuckled as he flipped over, his gangly body stretching upwards in response. "But when…"

"Soon…" The mysterious man glanced down at his watch, ruby red eyes glittering in anticipation. He would finally have them both in his grasp… "Trust me, Ryuuk. This is going to be so much fun."

The disheveled stranger slouched towards his desk as he began to rearrange some items, grabbing onto the dark leather-bound journal as he did so. Opening it to its first page, the words seemed to bounce off the paper and into his imagination as he re-read the words he had come to memorize so long ago.

There are days within this place that I feel suffocated, and just want to hide within my room and never come out. All those eyes on me…

Is wanting to be the next in line worth all of this?

Crimson eyes shut as the pale man leaned back against the chair, soaking in the validity of the words.

'Well, L? After years of trying to be something we both aren't…' He wondered to himself, feeling as if it was all the hard work he had put into this was finally coming to a head. 'Was it?'

The man smiled as he snapped the journal shut and threw it on the desk before grabbing his jacket along with his package and slowly walking out the door, pushing a cap over his head as Ryuuk followed.

Grinning with morbid glee, Ryuuk laughed insanely, eyes glued to the numbers perched just above the human's head.

'Interesting indeed…'


Raito stared over at the door, minutes counting by as he attempted to re-collect himself.

'The words…'

Without realizing it, his hands began to grope around the bed surrounding the young songwriter, waiting for the feel of leather and metal to meet their fingertips.

'Nightstand… It's on the nightstand.'

Knowing he was going to hate himself for it later on, Raito carefully unfurled himself off the bed and slouched his way towards the nightstand on the other side of the bed. A gleaming black cover taunted his sight as the pen he had been grasping onto merely an hour ago lay a couple inches off to the side, ready to roll off the small table completely.

'Gotcha.'

Hands gently caressed the leather-bound exterior of the notebook, knowing that if there was one thing in this world that would never let him down, it was a smooth piece of paper with nothing but his own thoughts and words.

'Something that's mine… something that no one can take away from me… something… something I can love, and not be afraid of.'

"Would it have been so wrong

To have actually let you in?

I wish I had the answer,

But I doubt I ever will.

We have such little time left,

Of that, I am sure."

Raito stared down at the piece of paper, knowing what he wanted to write, and yet not wanting to actually put it down.

'Oh God…'

The pen fell from his fingers, rolling of the side of the bed unnoticed.

'This can't be possible.'

And it was then that Yagami Raito, also known as 'Light' to his many, many fans around the world, faced the revelation that had been dangling over his head from the moment he had first laid eyes on the scraggly man who had quite literally broke into his life and pushed himself into the sanctity of his most sacred of places. (No pun intended, Raito thought mockingly to himself even as his hand twitched in discomfort at the memory of L 'stealthily' sneaking into his bathroom whilst he was still in the damn shower.)

Shock permeated the pop star's being as he laid back down against the warmth of his comfortable bed, closing his eyes in an ill attempt to focus solely on sleep.

'Everything I've never wanted to feel after all I've been through is coming back to me, isn't it?' Raito thought to himself as he finally gave up the inevitable battle that he had constantly been fighting in the back of his mind. The musician's thoughts continued to run at a rapid pace, even as his consciousness began to blur over from emotional exhaustion. 'Everything I wanted to keep inside is pouring over from all sides, and all because of a socially-retarded detective with mysophobia and obsessive-compulsive disorder…'

Despite himself, Raito felt a tiny smile quirk up against his lips as he lost himself within the welcoming oblivion of sleep and for once, though quite sure it was for naught, hoped to dream nothing but good dreams.


"Raito?!"

The slim brunette blearily blinked as the banging against the door increased in volume, the sound of a familiar female voice calling him from outside.

"Raito, open the door! Raito!"

'Okaa-san…'

Feeling overly-sluggish, Raito picked himself up off the bathroom floor, not noticing the nearly empty bottle laying just a few feet away from his body.

'Why… why was I laying on the bathroom floor?' Almost tripping over his own feet, Raito carefully steadied himself against his wall so as to not fall. 'Where's Teru?'

"Raito, please, open the door!"

Feeling as if he were going to fall over, the 16-year-old leaned heavily against the wall as he slowly made his way to the bathroom door, which all of sudden seemed so far.

All Raito wanted to do was sleep…

"Raito!"

Hands clumsily grasping the handle, Raito finally snapped open the lock, eyes closing as he did so. The door quickly opened as his body slumped forward, leaving a blur of color in his darkening vision until all Raito could see was black.


"I'm sure he'll be fine… but he did cut it quite close, I must say."

Raito felt the sting of bright light behind his closed lids, wanting nothing more than to remain in his land of dreams and darkness.

"He overdosed on what I believe to be some sort of sleeping medication… do you know if he takes any?"

"Well…"

"Yagami-san?"

"He takes something called Esz... Esz… I'm sorry, I always forget the name. I know it begins with an 'E.'"

"… Eszopiclone?"

"I… think so. Yes. Is that harmful for him?"

"Any medication for sleep could be considered dangerous if taken in large quantities, though there are some that are more potent than others, especially depending on the amount per dosage within each tablet."

"Oh."

"We've already pumped his stomach and stabilized his condition, so all we can really do is continue to wait for him to awaken. Luckily, you brought him in just in time, Yagami-san."

Everything became silent within the room once again as the sound of footsteps echoed against the sterile hospital floor, along with a door opening only to then close shut.

Raito heard a rustling of clothing as the woman beside him shifted within her seat. Gentle hands softly rearranged the blankets covering Raito's body as the warmth of his mother's hands caressed his arms and chest. A couple of moments of pure silence was all the warning Raito received before his mother's voice once again filled the cold hospital room.

"I know you're awake, Raito."

The 16-year-old winced in discomfort, knowing that when his mother spoke in that tone of voice, it was bad.

Really, really, bad.

"What were you thinking?! You could have gotten yourself killed!" A sense of guilt permeated through Raito's body as the sharp of edge of hysteria hung off his only stable connection's voice. "Do you honestly think that Teru would have wanted that for you?! Raito, open your eyes and look at me."

At the sound of the command, but more so, at the sound of his former lover's (former, former, former, as in not here, not anymore) name coming off the only person's lips (other than his sister's, but she was young, and naïve, and still had so much to learn) who had ever come to accept their relationship (which was now gone, because his father had wanted it to be erased) made him simply want to keep his eyes closed and never open them again.

Everything he had ever held true was crumbling within his very own hands, and he had no way to stop it.

"Raito, please…"

The strain within his mother's tone, echoing the tears which were now most probably clinging to her eyes, made the boy want to break his own resolve and just open his impure gaze. (Impure because what he had held most precious for the one he loved most had been stolen away from him, because he never got a chance to give his lover that gift, because he was dirty, and tattered, and it was all his father's fault)

Yet, the images he wished to keep at bay kept haunting him, taunting him, refusing to break their hold (Sometimes, Raito wished he could just shut the voices up within his head and fall asleep and never wake up, because all they did was amplify the pictures he already saw) over his psyche, and Raito didn't understand how his life had become such a masquerade.

"Raito…"

The sobs then audibly heard, Raito finally broke and slowly (ever so slowly, because if not, he would break and shatter, and never be able to be fixed), readying himself for the onslaught of light that would attack his innocent irises. Tears blurred his own vision as the burning light froze his body, making Raito feel even more of a shell than he already did.

"Raito, I don't know what to do... please, just tell me what you need me to do…"

Turning his head to the side, Raito eyelids fluttered as he attempted to focus in on the woman leaning over his bed, crying on top of his sheets. A blur of black and green overcame his sight as Raito carefully lifted his hand from the sheets (he really shouldn't have, because he was filthy, and his mother didn't deserved to be touched by such filth) and softly (barely, because she deserved so much better from her son; a son who was better than him and not such a disgrace) placed his hand over her own peeking out from beneath her folded arms.

Sobs began to ebb as the woman slowly looked up from her crouched position against the boy's bed and gazed at her son through red-rimmed eyes. Tears continued to roll down the distraught mother's cheeks as her face crumpled once more at the heartbroken visage her oldest child held on his face, wanting to do nothing than fix everything (but she couldn't make everything better, not anymore, and that's what would kill them both as time would pass) but breaking down even further at the knowledge that she couldn't undo the damage her husband had unknowingly caused.

There were so many things that needed to be said that wouldn't. So many embraces that would be turned away instead of cherished. So many nights that would be spent rolling underneath cold blankets wondering just why he had to be the one to survive all this; just why he was the one to have to carry this burden (yet, even though he hated every minute of living, he couldn't bring himself to really die, because he wouldn't want that, he wouldn't, and that's what Raito would continue to tell himself, even during the times he just wants to do nothing more than lie down and never wake up ever again).

"Isn't there… anything I can do?"

The question came out hesitantly, as if it was not meant to be spoken out loud at all. Raito wanted to leap from the bed and grab his mother and just beg her to turn back time and make him whole again (because Raito was broken, and he doubted he could ever be put back together, not without his light, not without his hope), to bring back that part of him that had crumbled along with Teru as he had laid bleeding on the ground, eyes empty of life. The part of him that had been stomped and spat upon when those people had grabbed him and-

"No…" Raito whispered as his mother slowly got up from the bed and cradled her son within her arms, the last actual embrace he would ever come to accept without somehow shirking away in fear or disgust. "There isn't."

Both mother and son then said nothing more as they both retreated into the sanctity of their own thoughts, to wallow in the misery that seemed inescapable…

Even in their dreams.


L carefully sifted through the many documents on the table, wondering just what it was that was itching in the back of his mind.

After having Raito finally recount his own traumas, L had realized that he himself had had too much to think about. Now that he knew that Raito had been… that his past lover had… L now had a whole new range to work from.

Though every time he glanced at the boy's door, all he wanted to do was throw the documents away and rush to the room and apologize of all things, for a past that was not even his own fault. Yet with every moment that passed, L felt all the more guilty, all the more troubled. The boy was in there licking his own still very fresh wounds, and all L was doing was picking at them even further.

Picking up one of the analysis from one of the earlier murders, the detective attempted to place his concentration back to the subject at hand; his case. Raito would have to wait, as more people were becoming targets, and all for something L knew he should have been able to piece together by now. This murderer was specifically taunting him, and L could just picture the faceless man behind all this smirking in morbid delight at all the pain he was causing both the victims and Raito himself.

'Why is this so difficult! What am I missing?!' It was most likely so obvious, that L was just delving to deep to face the facts. Slamming his hands against the small table, L finally gave into the frustration eating away at his mind and shoved all the papers off of the smooth surface.

'So this is what it's like to actually feel…' A small voice, sounding suspiciously like Raito's own vibrant tenor, whispered within the back of his mind.

Coming out of his usually crouched position, L held his head within his hands as he slumped forward. He needed to solve this case…

For both his and Raito's peace of mind.


Raito glanced around his empty apartment, keys jingling within his hand. This would be the last time…

The last time he would ever set foot in this place.

Memories seemed to seep from every crevice of every room, from the living room all the way to the bedroom. Hell, even the bathroom had held special memories for the both of them.

Wanting to stay, yet aching to go, Raito gathered the last box of his possessions, wondering if the world was big enough to escape this never-ending torment settled over his chest.

As the lights flickered off, Raito left the last of his thoughts along with the bittersweet memories he hoped to never have to re-visit.


"It's very nice to meet you, Mr. Yagami." The sharply dressed green-eyed man shook Raito's barely there hand as the brunette gazed at the American man with a vacant gaze. "My name is Bill Shiver. I'll be your new producer in the track room."

Raito simply nodded, not willing to look at the music executives behind him carefully eyeing the exchange with tentative gazes.

"From what I hear, it's going to be awesome working together." To his credit, Bill didn't sound as if he were trying to hard, or push some sort of authority over him. In fact, if not for Raito's current… situation (because that was what the label had called it, cover up any association from it, even though his lover had been the best of the damndest best), Raito would have probably liked Bill a whole lot more than he did at that moment.

Yet, all he really saw was someone stepping into his lover's sacred spot by his side…

And Raito could not handle that.

Not.

One.

Bit.


"Are you ever going to speak with him?" His mother pleaded with him over the phone. "If not for him, at least for yourself, Raito. You need to get this thing off from your chest and finally live your life the way it was meant to be lived!"

The brunette felt the first question echo within his head, ignoring the rest of what his mother was saying as he did so.

Raito figured the best way to answer her was the most direct way.

He hung up the phone without so much as a goodbye.

Raito still loved his mother very, very much…

That didn't mean his father got the same privilege anymore.


"Happy birthday, Raito!"

Raito smiled silently as his mother and sister threw confetti all around the room, finally giving into temptation and throwing it at each other. Without realizing it, guffaws of laughter began to echo within the room, his own voice even managing to produce a few chuckles as Sachiko proceeded to dump a whole bag's worth of confetti over her daughter's head.

"Moooom!"

Sachiko only laughed all the more before turning to her son with an evil gleam in her eye, grabbing another bag of confetti as she did so.

"Mom…" Raito warned before getting up from his seat and backing away slowly. "Don't even think about-"

"Sayu, go for the gold!"

The now 17-year-old boy had little time to prepare before two rabid Yagami woman were at his tail, throwing bits and pieces of confetti at him. Out of breath from both running and laughing, Raito actually realized something in the back of his mind.

'I'm having fun…'

It wasn't fake. It wasn't a figment of his imagination. It wasn't something impure or diluted in its feeling.

As he continually ran from his sibling and parent, he gave his first real smile in over five months.

'Am I going to be ok, Teru?'

Raito squawked as Sayu finally forwent the confetti and grabbed a piece of cake.

"Don't you dare, Sayu!"

'Can I be myself again one day?'

"Mom…"

'Can I…'

"As long as you clean the mess afterwards…"

'Can I feel the same way for someone else one day, as I did for you?'

"BONZAI!"

"GAHHHHH! SUGARY FROSTED GOODNESS!"

'I think… maybe… just maybe…'

"Raito, you're going to get frosting all over the carpet if you keep running that way!"

'I might be able to.'

"Oh my God, get that stain out of my rug right this minute, Yagami Sayu!"

"Sorry, bro!"

'If only someday…'

"You will be if I have to get new carpeting done!"

"Kyaaa! So scary!"


"That's a rap, Raito." Bill sighed as he kneaded the bridge of his nose with his forefinger and thumb. "I think we've got everything we need."

Raito said nothing as he threw down the headphones and walked out of the recording room, not caring to notice the somewhat pained look on his producer's face.

"Raito?"

The songwriter stalled in his footsteps, not even glancing back as Bill stood up, grabbing the paperwork waved off to the side. "Yes?"

"I just wanted you to know that despite the fact I know you don't agree with some of the song choices, you're doing a great job." Bill smiled at the boy's back, not realizing the strain he was putting on Raito's face as he grimaced at the so-called compliment. "Not many people have your kind of talent."

'Great…' The brunette reminisced on the older man's words as he left the room without a word of dismissal, feeling whatever was left of his soul slowly disintegrate in misery. 'I could have been more than great.'

Teru had always told him that as long as he fought for what he believed in…

With a small scoff, Raito continued his way out of the recording studio in a dazed huff.

His ideals had gotten him nowhere in the beginning.

What made him think the end was going to be any different?


L sighed as he felt his world spin out of control.

All of the emotions he had been trying to reign in for years were now flying off the charts, creating new found chaos within his already hectic mind, and all because of a 17-year-old singer who loved to scowl and sarcastically one-up him whenever possible.

All of the papers lay scattered on the floor, a collage of words and pictures L no longer had the will to understand. There was just one last piece missing from the puzzle, but the exhausted detective just couldn't figure out what…

Feeling the migraine he had developed over an hour before pound painfully against his temples, L carefully lifted himself up from the slumped hunch that had hurt even his back. Feeling the rush of blood assuage his head, the 25-year-old detective quietly padded over to the still closed door.

Thinking of the pretty brunette no doubt brooding within the spacious bedroom, L wondered just what this would mean for their 'relationship,' now that the detective knew just what was hidden behind that stony frown and melancholy eyes.

Did this mean things had to be different between the both of them now?

L bit his thumb as he stared at the panel of wood, a slight feeling of loss overcoming the slim insomniac wanting nothing more than to… to… comfort this one person who seemed to be entwined with both beauty and tragedy.

Because really, in all of his tragic misgivings, Raito was still beautiful, and now that L knew just what it was that the pop star was carrying on his shoulders, it only seemed to make him glow all the more.

L could deny it all he wanted, but after a week and a half of knowing the boy, the passing infatuation with his music had transformed into something different altogether. There was something that pulled him towards the boy that had nothing to do with his music; at least, not anymore.

A pale hand went to grasp the handle on the door, breath held in a sign of anticipation when-

"L!"

The detective internally sighed as Watari quickly entered the room, looking quite panicked in all of his usual passiveness. Shoving his hand into his pocket and turning around, L shoved all the emotional baggage he seemed to love to carry in the back of his mind and once again filled in his role as the apathetic investigator he usually portrayed. "Yes, Watari? Is something the matter?"

"A box… at the front door…" The worried expression on Watari's face intensified as L shifted rather uneasily, still not looking over at the man who had practically raised him.

"Bomb?"

"I do not believe so," Watari admitted, his gut feeling still burning with something akin to nervousness. "But there is not mailing address."

"Have you moved it?"

"No, L."

The slim insomniac bristled as he walked away from the younger man's door and bypassed the older man.

"Then we shall have to take a chance, now won't we?" L murmured as he slouched towards the apartment's entrance and ignored the startled look on Watari's face.

"Are you positive that is wise, L?"

The 25-year old detective simply shrugged, both physically and emotionally exhausted. "If it does not have a mailing address and this murderer not only knows who I am, but knows that I am staying with Raito-kun, than there is no real threat to be had within the box. To whoever this is, this is all a game, and each piece of evidence is just another piece of the much grander puzzle he has set in place. I doubt anything that may come to harm any of us lies within that box."

'At least, not physically.' L added within his mind, the headache slowly evolving into a migraine. With slow, calculative steps, L finally made it to the door and carefully heaved it open. Peeping out with one shadowed eye, a medium sized cardboard box small enough to be carried within his arms lay in front of the stylish door mat.

Fully opening the door, L brought his right thumb up to his mouth and began to nibble on the nail, curiosity overriding his sense of self-preservation. Though he thought the killer wouldn't send him a bomb, that didn't mean the possibility wasn't there. L knew he was being downright stupid, but as he didn't hear any audible ticking (as if that counted for anything), L figured he was most likely in the clear.

"Watari-"

Without having to say another word, a box of plastic gloves were shoved in front of his nose for use.

L blinked, not even shocked at his companion's speediness at this point.

"Thank you."

Plucking two gloves out of the small box and carefully snapping them on, L crouched down in front of the package and simply eyed it for a moment. What he was doing was dangerous and most likely endangering everyone within the apartment's life, but for once, L could not find the will to care. He was desperate at this point, and it seemed whoever was behind all of this was finally reaching their own breaking point if they were making almost complete direct contact.

"Were you able to catch who left the package here on the video feed?" L muttered, fingers twitching against his chin as he motioned his head towards the small hidden camera set up against the doorframe above the entrance.

"Just a regular delivery man." Watari's brow furrowed as he stood behind L, crossing his arm against his chest in absolute fear for his ward's safety. "His hat covered up the majority of his face, however, and all I could really make out was his hair coloring peeking out from underneath the cap."

'Interesting…' L thought to himself before hesitantly reaching out a finger and poking the box. 'Very interesting indeed.'

"Well…" L finally picked himself up, carefully picking up the package as he did so. "I suppose there is only one way to figure out what is inside."

Watari silently sighed as L slouched past him, looking like the child the older man secretly believed he was. The panda-like detective said nothing more as he reached the table and set the package down, looking over at Watari once more.

Watari sighed once more, wondering if he was going to come to regret these next couple of footsteps as he silently made his way to the kitchen. Taking out one of Raito's kitchen knives, Watari gave L one last questioning glance.

"Bring it here, Watari." L held out his hand, waiting for the feel of metal against his fingers. Once the knife was within his tight grasp, the pale man positioned it on the cardboard and tentatively cut through the tape, hand barely twitching as he did so.

Breath held in, L carefully pried open the box and peered inside-

Only to feel his heartbeat stall within his chest.

"L…?"

All the pieces seemed to connect together then, as those white pristine flowers glistened up at the dark-eyed man, taunting him in all their beauty. The crown was neatly made, not a leaf or stem broken as the petals became all the more vibrant within the dull brown cardboard surrounding it.

L wanted nothing more than to shove the box away from his person, poisoned by the possibility of things to come.

"L?"

But all he could think about was Raito, and all he had suffered-

"L?!"

And all he would continue to suffer, if this last crown of flowers were any indication.

Obsidian eyes closed as L pushed Watari's voice into the back of his mind, along with the banging now resonating from the door.

With this one item within his hands, L now realized that things had been destined to be chaotic from the start.


Disclaimer: Once again, all lyrics are mine, so there's nothing to really disclaim except for the actual series which goes without saying.

Ah, we're coming down to the wire. So, in all, things are connecting together rather beautifully. I may have to extend the story a chapter or two, but I think 16 chapters will actually be enough to fortify everything. Many thanks to my wonderful beta, Kitsune55, who is the epitome of awesomeness, and many thanks to you guys for reading! You know I totally love you guys! Lol!