Merry Christmas, everyone! I hope you all have an awesome holiday—and as always, thank you so much for the support!
(And if the details of Light's plan are still unclear after this chapter, I'd be glad to answer any questions.)
Chapter 26: Wunjo
Wunjo: signifies ambition and success.
L stood in stunned silence, staring at the room around him. Blood dripped down the walls in streams, running across the floor and meeting at the nearly decapitated body of the criminal. He was dead, there was doubt of that.
Just behind him, Misa was collapsed on the ground, perfectly unharmed. When she'd seen the man's head be torn nearly clean off, she'd fainted, simple as that. L himself was feeling quite faint, so he didn't blame her.
To Misa's right, Light was curled up on his side, arms over his head and soaked with the criminal's blood. He was conscious and mostly unharmed, but he hadn't gotten up yet. L suspected he was afraid to face what had just happened.
And then there was Rem. Or rather, the pile of ashy sand that used to be Rem. She'd disintegrated in a matter of moments, wordlessly melting down into a heap of whatever the hell was scattered across the ground. But that didn't matter to L—what mattered was the thin black notebook tucked neatly into the top of the ash. He moved towards it immediately and, being careful to first pull his gloves over his hands, picked it out of the strange substance. He was swift to place it in a protective sleeve and hide it beneath his shirt, as he so often did with the notebook he normally used.
After that, he picked his way over to Light. He knelt beside the teen, placing a hand gently on his shoulder. He was glad his hands were gloved, or he would have been smearing his unprotected skin through the blood splattered across his entire body. "Light," he urged, "I know you're conscious."
The teen tensed visibly. Then he sighed, body relaxing, and lowered his arms. His face came into view. Drips of scarlet decorated the pale flesh, though it wasn't nearly as bad as the gore that soaked the rest of his body. What worried L more was the prominent bruise forming beneath his right eye and the slice in his arm from where the bullet had grazed him. "She's dead?" he asked wearily, and L knew he meant Rem.
"Yes, Light, she is. You performed brilliantly. I knew there was a reason I liked you so much."
The teen smiled, but it seemed forced. "I don't like manipulating people," he admitted. "And that…that felt like the greatest manipulation of all." He shivered.
"Manipulation or no, you won the day," L assured him. "Now there is only one Death Note out of our possession, and it is with the person who stole it from you. Soon, that too will be ours."
Light pushed himself up as L spoke, wincing as one hand shot to his wounded arm. "Oww…" he groaned. "That stings."
L carefully threaded one arm beneath his companion's shoulders, cringing as he felt the blood seep through his thin shirt in a matter of moments. "Come on, then," he said, "let's get you back to our room. There are some medical supplies in there, and you can shower while you're at it. It can't feel good to be covered in blood." L would know—it had happened to him before, if only rarely.
Light leaned gratefully against L, rising unsteadily. He ran a hand through his bloodied hair with a grimace. "I hit the back of my head again," he admitted in a pained tone. "I think it's bleeding."
"You idiot," L grumbled, pulling him towards the door gently. The faster they got to their room, the faster he could take care of Light's injuries. "Your performance was amazing, I've already said that—but that doesn't change the fact that what you did was reckless. We could have found another way."
"No," Light protested, "it was the only way. You know that."
L's brow furrowed irritably. "Still, I don't like it."
The teen merely hummed tiredly. "You understand, don't you? What I did?"
"Unfortunately, I figured it out a few minutes after you put your little plan into action."
It was simple, looking back on it. Just like before, Rem hadn't chosen to kill the criminal immediately upon seeing him threatening Misa, for she'd seen that his lifespan was about to hit zero, signifying that he was most likely being controlled by the notebook. It was with that in mind that Rem had waited for the criminal to keel over, leaving Misa unharmed. She had known, like L and Light had known, that humans couldn't harm other humans simply because the Death Note commanded it. Without Light's intervention, it all would have been over right then and there, just as it was the first time the plan had been attempted. The criminal would die, Misa would be unharmed, and Rem would remain untouched and ready to defend the second Kira another day. But the fact was, Light had intervened—and that was where things became truly interesting.
Light, seeing that his plan was the only way to win, had swung into action. He'd ripped of his mask and went after the criminal, feigning a vicious fight in order to build the façade. Then, as Rem watched, he'd grabbed onto the criminal's gun and pointed it at himself. The gun had gone off shorty after that, grazing Light's arm and nicking Misa's ear before planting itself straight into the wall of the cell. To Rem, it appeared that the criminal—supposedly under the control of the Death Note—had just harmed two human beings. And if the criminal had hurt both Light and Misa, that meant that he couldn't possibly be under the control of the notebook, for the notebook forbade its victims from harming other humans while under its control. The criminal's lifespan was about to run out, yes—but not because of the notebook. At least, that was what Rem thought. The truth, though…was a bit more complex.
The truth was that Light was the one that had fired that gun. Light had held the criminal's hand in such a way that when the gun fired, it was due to Light pressing down on the man's fingers and pulling the trigger himself. And that…changed everything. It meant that Rem had been convinced that the criminal wasn't under the notebook's control—and that meant she was convinced that said criminal could quite possibly kill Misa before his lifespan ran out. That wasn't enough to get her to act, though. There was one last thing Light had needed to take care of: Misa's lifespan. If that lifespan didn't drop, then Rem wouldn't act—and it was with that in mind that Light had designed the next part of his plan.
L knew better than anything else that when it came to the Death Note, intentionwas everything. If someone pointed a gun at someone else with the intention of ending their life, their lifespan would drop. If someone pointed a gun, or a knife, or anything lethal at someone else and thought, I am going to kill you in two minutes exactly, their lifespan would drop to two minutes. Intentions meant the world to the notebook. And Light, knowing that, had been all too swift to take advantage. That was where the knife came in. The knife from the kitchen that, as L supported his lover with one hand around his waist and another around his shoulders, stuck out just slightly from beneath Light's shirt. The knife that the teen had somehow managed to get his hands on, even in the chaos of the early night, and hide without L suspecting a thing. Light had kept that knife on him for the duration of the confrontation. Then, when he'd allowed the criminal to throw him to the ground as he advanced on Misa, he'd used it—or rather, he'd used the idea of it.
Less than forty seconds, he'd thought. I will use this knife to end Misa Amane's life in less than forty seconds. The hard part of the plan had been making himself believe it, though—because if he didn't really believe it, didn't really mean it, then Misa's lifespan wouldn't change. Light, though, had performed brilliantly. His intensions had been resolute. He'd clutched the hilt of the knife, concealed so well beneath his shirt, and he'd truly believed that he was going to kill Misa Amane. And when that happened, Misa Amane's lifespan shot down to a matter of seconds.
Rem had seen that change. She had seen Misa's blood, dripping down from the place where the bullet had grazed her. She had seen the criminal, advancing upon Misa with his gun drawn and readied. And in her situation, she'd made the only plausible assumption—that the criminal was about to end Misa's life. She never even suspected that Amane's shift in lifespan was because of Light. And what was more, her shift in lifespan had set her below forty seconds to live, for that was what Light had willed. Less than forty seconds to live. Not enough time to use the notebook.
And so Rem, faced with Misa's immanent demise, had done the only thing she could to keep her alive.
She'd lashed out physically. She'd taken the man's head nearly clean off. And as the rules of the notebook stated, gods of death were forbidden from harming humans through means other than the Death Note. So strictly forbidden, in fact, that any breach of the law ended in the immediate termination of the shinigami in question.
In other words, Rem's life was immediately ended—and as her life came to an end, Light no longer had any reason to kill Misa, returning her lifespan to normal.
A masterful and complete plan, if a little risky.
L was both impressed and irritated that Light had put himself in danger in order to complete their goal. "You're brilliant," he admitted, "but you're also an idiot." He ushered the teen past the doors and into the hall.
"Wait!" Light protested, suddenly sounding alarmed. "What about the room? It's covered in blood! And Misa's still in there."
"I'll call Watari."
"I thought we didn't want him to know about what happened."
"Right, right…" L pressed two fingers to the bridge of his nose, pressing lightly. "Would it be cruel of me to use the Death Note to make a criminal clean it all up for us!"
"L!" Light gasped, horrified. "Don't joke about things like that!"
L rolled his eyes, sighing deeply. "Of course. I apologize."
Light deflated immediately, exhaustion evident in the way he slumped against L. "Thank you."
The detective closed the doors behind them, supporting Light every step of the way. "But…it would be a lot easier if I just wrote someone's name—"
"L!"
"Fine, fine…"
†††
Light collapsed onto the lid of the toilet the instant L got him into the bathroom and let go of him. The detective reached for the shower, turning it on as Light watched tiredly. He felt terrible, to put it lightly. He'd already been sore from the night's activities when he'd flung himself at the criminal, and it hadn't exactly helped his physical condition. Now, sitting on the lid of the toilet as L made sure the water was warm enough for him, all he could feel was an overwhelming ache that reached every part of his body. His arm was the worst. He had one hand clasped over the wound, and even still he could feel warm blood seeping out from between his fingers. It wasn't a serious injury; it would stop bleeding as soon as L got it bandaged. But still, it hurt like hell, and he was far too tired to deal with pain at the moment.
"Up," L urged, using no more words than were necessary. He too seemed to be feeling the lure of rest, even though he hadn't been the one to throw himself at the criminal with reckless abandon. Funny, how that worked.
Light pushed himself up stiffly. He attempted to raise his arms to discard his shirt, but found himself unable to do much more than wince and grumble in a low tone about being useless.
"You're not useless," L assured him. "Weren't you feeling proud of yourself for taking down Rem just a few minutes ago?"
It took too much effort to respond, so Light simply stood still and watched as L walked over and began rummaging through the drawers under the sink. A moment later he emerged with a pair of scissors.
"I hope you don't like that shirt too much," the detective said blandly, beginning to cut away the fabric. "I don't want to risk aggravating that wound any further by having you raise your arms."
Light had to agree—just standing still was making the damn thing throb. "It's your shirt," he pointed out as the fabric fell away. "Besides, it's covered in blood."
L put down the scissors and moved to his companion's pants, taking a moment to loosen them before pulling them down smoothly, boxers coming with them. Light would have blushed, but the blood that would normally have risen to his cheeks was busy leaking out of his arm.
L tossed the bloodied garments into the corner of the bathroom and helped Light towards the shower. "No funny business," he assured him as the teen stepped inside. "Just wash all that blood off."
"What about you?" Light inquired. L was splattered with blood as well, though not nearly as thoroughly as he was. "You need to wash up."
"I'll do it after I'm done fixing you up," L responded reassuringly. "Besides, I still need to clean up Misa's cell and make sure she doesn't go saying anything to anyone about what happened. If Watari happened to go in to bring her something to eat and she told him what happened…"
Light shuddered. "Good point." He stepped under the water, sighing contentedly as it beat down on his sore shoulders. It was warm, almost scalding, but it felt incredible. His fingers curled around the dial, cranking up the heat even further until it really was burning his skin. He felt the need to sear away all remnants of what had happened, all signs that he'd taken part in such a devious conspiracy. His actions had led to the deaths of a human and a shinigami that night. It didn't matter if L was the one to write his name, or if Rem was technically the one to end her own life. What mattered was that Light had aided L in doing what he did—and that made him just as bad. But then again, hadn't L assured him that it was for the greater good? Now they had all but one notebook, and their lives were no longer in danger because of Misa. This had been for the greater good…hadn't it?
In his heart, Light wasn't so sure.
"I'll help you clean up," Light shot over his shoulder, reaching for the shampoo pouring some into his hand. He raised his hands halfway to his head and winced, pain lacing up his spine. "I don't want you to have to clean Misa's cell by yourself." He tried to raise his arms further to reach his hair, but only ended up letting out a low hiss as his shoulder gave a throb, followed by his head. His cheek didn't feel too good either.
"You've done enough," L insisted. "You need rest, not more work."
Light couldn't help but agree. He attempted once again to raise his hands to his head to wash his hair, but he found himself unable to do much more than get his hands to his chest. A tiny groan of frustration escaped his lips.
L seemed to understand. His clothes were cast off in a matter of moments, despite him insisting that he would wait until later, and he slipped into the shower beside Light. "I'll help you," he murmured. "It's the least I can do after everything I've put you through."
The teen couldn't help but sigh contentedly as the detective began to wash his hair, fingers delving deep into the tangled mess. It felt good to let himself be taken care of, especially when he was in such a sorry state. "You know," he sighed, "it's funny…it seems like my old injuries aren't even allowed to heal before new ones just pop up like weeds."
L winced. "My fault, I'm afraid. All your pain has been caused by me."
"Very true." Light leaned under the water as L started to rinse the suds from his hair. "But that ends now."
"What makes you say that, exactly?"
"Easy—we have all but one notebook. And once we have that last one, there will never be a reason for either of us to get hurt ever again. No one will be able to equal us." It was true—and Light wasn't sure if he thought it was a good thing or a bad thing. All that power…it frightened him to some degree.
"In that case, you should say that it won't happen again after we get the last notebook from the thief," L corrected. "You never know what kind of antics we might have to get up to in order to catch this person. We could very well come to harm."
"True, true…"
After that, they lapsed into a pensive silence, each lost in their own thoughts. It didn't take long for the two to finish with their shower, and a few minutes later found Light sitting up on the counter, towel around his waist, and L rummaging around for medical supplies, jeans pulled up loosely around his hips.
"I know I left some bandages and antiseptic around here," the detective murmured. "Where did I leave them?"
"This is what you get for being a slob," Light teased playfully.
L ignored him. "Ah, here we go!" He turned around with antiseptic in hand, already opening the cap and dabbing a wad of cotton balls in the solution. "Now, let me see that arm."
Light stretched out his arm tentatively, hardly trusting L with medical equipment. "Knock yourself out—but don't knock me out, okay?"
That earned him an exasperated look. "I'm not a child, Light—I will not hurt you on accident." He took the teen's arm with one hand, stretching it out further to examine the wound. "Unfortunately, this will sting a bit. The cut isn't deep, so you shouldn't need stitches, but we're still going to bandage this up." He gingerly dabbed the antiseptic onto the slice, prompting a pained hiss from the teen. "Sorry."
"No, no, it's fine…" Light drew breaths sharply as the detective worked at the widest part of the wound. "I'd rather it be this than letting it get infected."
L finished up with the antiseptic in record time. Casting the bottle aside, he reached for the bandages and began wrapping up the afflicted area. "Now your head," he said, beckoning Light forward. He clicked his tongue when he saw the reopened slice buried in the amber hair. "This looks a bit nasty. It's reopened again, and it's bleeding a bit."
"Oh no," Light protested, feeling the dull throb beginning to intensify with every word the detective spoke. "You're not going to have to stitch it closed, are you?"
L hummed thoughtfully, fingers brushing the inflamed wound. "No, I think it's healed enough to go without stitches. It hasn't split open too severely, just a small amount, so I think you can get off with a bit of disinfectant and a warning to be careful."
Antiseptic was dabbed onto the cut carefully. This one stung too, but not as bad as his arm.
L pushed him back when he was done, giving him a brief once over. "Okay, almost done. Your cheek is the only thing left."
Light laughed, his voice coming out as a low rasp. "You can't really do anything about that, L."
The detective leaned down, cupping Light's face between two hands. A thumb brushed over the bruised area gently. Even the lightest pressure made Light wince, though, and L immediately withdrew the offending digit. "It's swelling," he reported mournfully. "The skin wasn't broken, though, so the only thing I can do is get you some ice."
Light pushed him away. "Honestly, L, I'm perfectly fine now. Don't worry about my cheek, it just stings a bit."
L consented, taking a step back and simply staring.
"What is it?" Light asked, feeling self-conscious.
"Oh, nothing. It's just…" L raised a thumb to his lips thoughtfully. "When your father sees that, he's going to kill me."
"Don't worry," Light assured him, though he secretly feared the thought of how he was going to explain the bruise to his father. "We're going to frame Misa, right? We can tell him that she did it, or something like that. We are going to tell them that Misa is Kira in the next few days, right?"
"We'll tell them tomorrow, given that everything goes well."
Light's heart leapt in his chest. "So soon…" He'd known it would be soon, of course, but he hadn't really realized just how soon it would be.
"Soon?" L echoed. "It's taken far too long to get to this point, if you ask me."
That was partially true, at least. It felt as if Light had spent the past month or so in limbo, unable to do much of anything other than sleep and wait for L to return. "I suppose you're right; it has taken us a few months. But still…after so long of being unable to do anything, it feels strange for me to start working with the task force just in time disband them and frame Misa."
"We won't be disbanding them just yet," L reminded him. "We need to wait until Misa is sentenced to death. After that we can declare the case closed and dissolve the team."
Light felt a tiny flicker of trepidation at the thought of being on his own with L so soon. The fact that he'd committed to something like this, the fact that he'd agreed to stay with L and work with him…it was beginning to scare him. "We didn't have enough time to convince my father that I'm not staying with you because you're threatening me," he lamented quietly, though that was the least of his concerns at the moment.
L sighed, halting his movements. Then he leaned back slowly, tossing the dirtied cotton into the trashcan in the corner of the room. "We have a few days still." He didn't sound hopeful.
"We timed this poorly," was Light's response. "If we'd just realized sooner what we wanted to do, then we could have spent this whole time convincing my father of your less than malicious intentions." He cast his gaze towards his feet forlornly. "We spent too much time sitting around thinking and too little time acting on our thoughts."
L turned his back, opening the bathroom door and walking over the wardrobe. He vanished from sight as he presumably began rummaging around, then appeared with a new set of clothing in his hands. "We'll have to act more and think less," he joked blandly, handing the clothing to Light.
The teen slipped off the counter, legs unstable. When he unfolded the clothing he found himself looking at a fresh pair of pajamas. They were his, surprisingly—Watari must have dropped off his clothes at some point.
"We have about five hours until we have to begin work," L explained. "You should change into those and try to get some sleep."
"What about you?"
The detective shrugged, shoving his hands into his pockets. "I don't normally sleep every night. I didn't start sleeping much until you came around, actually. And besides, like I said, I need to clean up the mess in Misa's cell."
Light began pulling on the clothing obediently. "I feel bad about making you clean up," he protested, though he felt far more inclined to fall back into bed than to help L wipe the criminal's blood off the walls.
"Like I said, you've done enough. You need to rest." The detective took Light by the arm, helping him up and leading him back over to the bed. The teen found himself being lowered back down, head resting against the pillows. His hair was still wet, the pillow turning damp in a matter of seconds.
"…Okay," Light hummed sleepily, giving in. His arm still burned, his cheek ached, and his head throbbed painfully. He just wanted to rest. "Sorry."
A tiny smile tugged at the corners of L's lips. "You have nothing to apologize for." The detective snatched up Rem's Death Note from the bedside table, where he'd cast it before he led Light to the bathroom to wash up. "Rem is dead, and we have her Death Note. I'd call that a success, even if there's a little cleanup work to do."
L's smile was infectious, and Light found his lips curving upwards to match his. "Fair enough. Now…" He trailed off, a yawn making it impossible to speak for a moment. "Let me sleep."
L nodded and turned for the door. But then he paused and turned back, leaning down and pressing his lips to Light's forehead. Then, wordlessly, he turned and left the room.
†††
"That's it," Light groaned, horrified. "I can't face my father looking like this."
The teen stared at himself in the bathroom mirror, fingertips ghosting over the dark bruise under his right eye. The skin was a nasty shade of purplish green, fanning out over the space where the criminal had struck him the night before. L had brought some ice for him after he'd finished cleaning up Misa's cell, but it had been too little too late—the bruise had already begun forming.
L's voice shook him from his stupor. "What's wrong?" he asked, peering over Light's shoulder at his reflection. "Is it hurting?"
"Hurting?" Light scoffed. "The pain isn't the issue, genius! It's my father!"
"Hmm? Why?"
"He'll think you hit me! He already doesn't like you, and this will just push him over the edge!"
L hummed thoughtfully. "Let me see."
Light turned to face the detective, hand still partially covering the bruise. "See? It looks awful."
L's cool fingers replaced his, tracing the discolored skin. "Yes," he sympathized, "that doesn't look good. But there's nothing we can do about it now, unfortunately. We'll be explaining what happened with Misa today anyways, so we can just tell Soichiro that Misa struck you."
"I suppose, but that won't stop him from freaking out when he first sees me. He's already convinced you're an abusive asshole, you know."
"Unfortunately, I'm more than aware of your father's opinion of me. But unfortunately for him, I won't be leaving you because of it."
"I expect nothing less." Light took one last look at himself, making sure his shirt was free of wrinkles and his tie was perfectly straight. He'd chosen a purple shirt for that day, long-sleeved and collared so it would hide both the wound on his arm and the bite marks littered across his neck and shoulders. "Well, this is as good as it's going to get. Let's get going."
L took the lead as they exited their room, heading down the hall. "Do you remember the plan?" he asked as they neared the elevator.
Light nodded wordlessly. That morning, as they prepared themselves to face the task force, they'd gone over exactly what they would be telling the task force and what they would be leaving out. They'd come to a firm agreement on the matter, though it took several hours to work out all the details. "Don't worry about me," he assured the detective. "I know what to say."
"Good…I'm counting on you for this."
The elevator doors slid open as they approached, and they were swift to enter and select the correct floor. Light felt something brush his side, and when he looked over, he saw L leaning against him. No words were exchanged. Instead, Light reached over and wrapped an arm around L's shoulders, pulling him closer. The two stood in complete silence as the elevator carried them towards their destination, towards the place in which they'd be forced to don their masks once more.
It ended all too soon. The doors slid open, and by the time the task force looked over to them, they'd put several feet of space between them.
As expected, Soichiro's response was immediate.
"Light!" he burst out upon seeing the discolored blotch under one eye. "What happened?"
Well, at least he's not throwing himself at L in his anger, Light thought dismally. "Father," he greeted, wincing as he jostled his arm in the exact wrong way. "It's nothing, I assure you—"
"Was it him?"
It wasn't hard to guess who he meant. "No," Light assured him. "L didn't lay a hand on me."
"Then what—?"
L cut him off. "I will answer any questions you may have in a few minutes. But first, there is something of grave importance we must discuss."
He had the attention of the entire task force.
"I must admit, I haven't told you everything." As he spoke, L began making his way over to his seat. He crawled up into his chair in that odd way of his, toes curling over the cushioned seat. The detective motioned to the seat beside him wordlessly, beckoning Light to his side. The teen obeyed without complaint. "The truth is, while you've been working on gathering information involving Kira, I've been conducting a second investigation of my own."
The task force immediately seemed to tense as one collective being. But before any of them could protest, or even open their mouths to ask what L meant, the detective was launching into the story he'd concocted.
"Over the past month, I've been working towards Kira's capture in the investigation room with all of you. However, in the time you spend away from this place, I've been conducting my own investigation with Light as my partner. As you know, we recently took Misa Amane into custody under the suspicion of her being Kira—or at least, the second Kira. Over the past few weeks I've been working on getting a confession out of her. And although that never happened, I was able to gather enough information to prove her true identity."
Gasps rippled through the task force.
"Did you torture her?" Soichiro demanded, hands curling into fists. "Did you harm her in your attempt to get a confession?"
"You think so little of me, Mr. Yagami? It seems that you're eager to accuse me of evildoings at the drop of a hat."
The man narrowed his eyes, clearly ready to retort, but L never gave him the chance.
"In either case, that doesn't matter now. What matters is that we now have enough information to convict her. I've contacted the ICPO already, and they should be retrieving both Misa and the evidence within the day."
"What is this evidence, exactly?" Aizawa broke in, always the skeptic.
"Yeah!" Matsuda agreed with that overly excited attitude of his. "I want to know what you found, too!"
L's eye twitched in irritation. If the task force hadn't been watching, Light would have attempted to comfort him. Unfortunately, all he could do was watch. "As a part of my plan, I made Amane believe that Light was Kira. Then, knowing that she values Kira above all others, I made her think Light was about to die and ordered her to reveal her method of killing to us. I recorded every moment of our conversation, and she revealed exactly how she does what she does."
"What does she do?" Soichiro questioned. "What kind of power does she hold that allows her to end human life without being present?"
"I'm afraid the ICPO has ordered me to refrain from revealing any details of her power until the whole story is released to the public," L said. "All I can tell you is that we now know how she's been committing her murders, and that her power has been taken away from her."
And so the first lie is planted. Despite the fact that the lie about the ICPO was necessary, Light felt his lips curving downwards in a troubled frown. He didn't like lying to the task force. He didn't like lying to his father.
"Light," Soichiro snapped, turning to face his son. "Do you know what this power is? If you do, then you must tell us immediately! We are just as much a part of this investigation as you, and we deserve to know!"
Light kept his tone cool and reserved. "L has told me nothing of this power. And so long as he has been ordered by the ICPO to remain silent, I can't expect him to reveal anything to me. This is not his choice."
L took over. "In addition, I had one last plan enacted to test Misa's powers. I let a criminal into the building, making sure Misa knew his name and face beforehand, and allowed him to get into Misa's cell. If she was Kira, then I assumed she would kill the criminal before he killed her. Unfortunately, something went wrong, and Light was caught in the crossfire." He gestured to the bruise spread across Light's cheek. "Misa didn't immediately act to save herself by killing the criminal, and Light believed that she was going to die. He attacked the criminal to protect Misa, and was hurt in the process. That is the reason for his injuries."
Light felt his father's gaze on him, silently asking if it was true. "He's telling the truth," Light assured him in a low murmur. "L was so stunned that he froze in place, and was unable to stop the criminal from striking me."
L gave a brief nod, continuing on. "Fortunately, Misa intervened before anything worse happened. She used her power, and the criminal was killed in a matter of moments. This, too, we have video of."
"And I suppose you can't let us see that either?" Aizawa snapped bitterly. "Are you so determined to keep this from us?"
"If it were up to me, I'd show you the footage here and now. But unfortunately, that isn't my decision."
The embittered man turned away without another word, brow furrowed in frustration.
"As I was saying," L went on, "Misa murdered the criminal on camera in order to protect herself. Therefore, we have enough proof to convict her." The detective shot a subtle glance over to Light, and he caught his cue to join the conversation.
"That takes care of the second Kira," he said, "but we still need to worry about the original. L and I have talked this matter over in length, and we've decided that the best thing to do would be to wait several days to see if the murders continue."
"Why wouldn't they?" Matsuda asked. "I mean, you've taken down the second Kira, but that doesn't mean the first is just going to stop, right?"
Light responded, "Maybe not. L and I have a theory that says otherwise."
"And just what theory would that be?"
L took over once again. "Based on our observations, we believe that there may be a possibility that Misa was the one pulling the strings all along. We think that she's really the original Kira, and that she's been using her powers to control someone else to act as the second Kira. By this logic, by taking Misa down, the other Kira should stop his activities. All we have to do is wait a few days to make sure it's true. If those few days pass, and no other criminals die, then we can be relatively sure that we've taken down the only true Kira. The task force will be disbanded, and the case will be officially declared closed."
"So that's it?" Soichiro asked. "It's just going to end?"
"Provided that no more criminals die in the next few days, yes. It will end."
"And we're just supposed to stand around until then?" It was the first time Mogi had spoken a word in what felt like forever. "It seems like a waste of time, if you ask me."
L shook his head. "It will not be a waste of time because I will not require you to be here. For the next several days I will ask you to return to your work with the NPA. Then, once I have the results of our little experiment, I will call you back here. This way, none of your time will be wasted."
"Hang on a second," Soichiro protested. "You expect us to just leave and go back to work while we wait for more people to die?"
"To put it bluntly, yes. But again, it is unlikely that anyone else will die."
"Unbelievable."
Light, sensing the impending fight, immediately attempted to perform damage control. "Father," he said, rising from his chair, "please calm yourself. I don't like this any more than you do, but it's the only thing we can do right now."
"Light—!"
The teen was swift to cut him off. "And since we have a few days to ourselves, I'll be able to come home and visit mother and Sayu. I've missed them, so it'll be nice to pay them a visit." It was the only thing that would placate him at this point.
"A visit? Then I suppose you'll be staying here instead of coming home for good?"
Light was reminded suddenly that soon he'd have to tell his father that he wouldn't be coming home. It wasn't a conversation he was looking forward to. "I feel obligated to stay here," he explained carefully. "Besides, L and I work well together. It would be foolish to separate us."
Soichiro looked away, grumbling irritably. But he seemed to know he had no hope of changing Light's mind. "At the very least, then, I expect you to keep your word and visit."
The teen nodded in agreement. "I will. I swear it."
Beside him, Light saw L bristle slightly. He clearly didn't like the promise. But he said nothing, only giving a small shake of his head in disapproval.
It seemed that Light would be going to visit his family, whether L liked it or not.
†††
Sure enough, when night fell, Light found himself under L's scrutiny for what he'd said to his father.
"I wish you would have spoken with me before you agreed to visit your family," L whined. "I don't like you running off without me."
"I'm sorry," Light apologized guiltily. He knew he'd let L down, and he felt terrible for it. "But you know as well as I do that it was the only thing that could prevent an all out fight between the two of you."
"Still," L pouted, "I don't like this. At least let me go with you."
"You know my father would never allow it," Light said apologetically. "He'd be furious if you showed up with me; he'd think you were following me because you thought I was Kira. If I go alone, then he'll be convinced that you're allowing me some freedom."
The detective's look made Light's heart jump in his chest. "I suppose you're right, unfortunately. I still don't like it."
"You have nothing to worry about. I'll make it quick, only an hour or two, and then I'll return to your side." He glanced behind him, making sure the door to their bedroom was closed. Then he stepped forward boldly and pulled L into a hug, wrapping the detective's scrawny frame firmly in his arms. "I'll set out tomorrow at noon."
L's fingers dug into his back suddenly, holding him close for a brief moment before pushing him just far enough away so that he could look him in the eye. "Noon…" he murmured thoughtfully. "But until then…"
Light gasped as L's lips crashed to his, hungry and demanding. "Hey!" he protested, managing to pull back for only a moment before L succeeded in silencing him once again with a searing kiss. Those pale fingers wound into his hair, holding him firmly in place and leaving no room for protest. L was leaving no room for protest, no question of who owned who. "L, we—!"
The detective let him go just long enough to shove him backwards, sending him toppling to the bed. "Shush," L chastised, falling over him and covering his lips for a third time. "You said you weren't leaving until noon, right?"
Light barely managed to hum in agreement, breath escaping him in a whoosh as L's hands gripped his waist firmly, pinning him down.
"Good." L's teeth applied gentle pressure to the juncture between neck and shoulder, not biting, not claiming as he had the night before, but simply brushing across the already bruised skin. A nimble tongue darted out, laving over the sensitive skin and drawing a soft moan from the teen. "Then until then…"
"Mph!" Light turned his head to the side, subconsciously offering himself to the detective hovering over him. "L!"
The grin L shot him in return was nothing short of lecherous. "You're mine."
And Light, hooking an arm around L's neck and drawing him closer, had little cause to protest.
†††
Light peeled himself out of bed at ten o'clock the next morning, feeling much better than he had the previous night. He was still sore, yes, but most of the pain from his arm and head had faded to a dull ache. Unsurprisingly, when he looked over to where L should have been, the detective was gone. He was probably in the kitchen fetching some kind of sweet concoction for his consumption. So, then, he was on his own for a bit. Groaning, Light rubbed at his head as he stumbled over to the wardrobe. He picked out a casual outfit, stealing a pair of L's jeans and grabbing one of his own black short-sleeved shirts. Then he gathered up his clothing, still strewn about the room from the previous night's activities, and dumped them into the hamper. A short trip to the bathroom to comb out his hair and brush his teeth later, he was snatching his phone off the bedside table and making his way out of the room and down the hallway. I don't see L, he noted as he stepped into the elevator and selected the ground floor. Oh well, I suppose he knows where I'll be. If he gets worried, he can always just call me. The elevator dinged, and Light walked out onto the ground floor. The exit was ahead of him, and it struck him that soon, for the first time in months, he'd be walking free. It was exhilarating. I won't take the subway, Light decided as he neared the doors. I can see the sun…it looks like such a nice day. And I could really use a bit of a walk to cheer me up.
The teen pushed open the door, and he was suddenly stepping outside, facing the light of day for the first time in what felt like forever. It's so warm…
He began walking once again, the light breeze ruffling his hair, and was unable to contain a grin at the thought of seeing his family once again.
†††
Not far away, scarlet eyes tracked the teen's movements curiously.
Strange, Beyond thought, watching as Light started heading down the street. No L? This was incredibly unusual. From what Beyond had observed, Light never went anywhere without L, not since he'd been taken to headquarters. This could be my chance.
Up until this point, Beyond had had no way to contact Light. He'd wanted to, of course, as per his determination to both take down L and free his puppet. But every time he'd started to try, it had been far too dangerous. L never seemed to leave his side. Hell, from what he could tell, the two of them even showered together. But now, for some reason, Light seemed to be alone. There was no L hovering at his shoulder, no pesky camera trained on him, watching his every move.
Light was alone. Light was defenseless.
You're lucky I don't want to hurt him, L. If I did, then I could kill him here and now.
Beyond, lurking in the alleyway behind a building, slid into the shadows as he began stalking after the unsuspecting teen. I need to get him away from all the people on the streets. If I can just get him by himself, truly by himself, and talk to him, then there's a chance I can get him to see reason. At the very least I can plant the seeds of doubt and begin to chip away at that trust he's formed with L. With any luck, I can convince him to stay away from L, leave the investigation.
Beyond ducked into another alleyway as Light turned his head, obviously sensing someone watching him. But a moment later he seemed to conclude that it was nothing, for he turned and continued walking.
I won't miss my chance, Beyond vowed, moving to blend in with the crowd. I will save you. I will take you away from L before he does to you what he's done to so many others.
†††
By the time Light reached his home, he was thoroughly unnerved. Throughout his journey, he'd been plagued by the feeling of someone watching him. But every time he turned his head, every time he attempted to pinpoint the source of the piercing gaze, all he'd been able to see was a flash of movement, then nothing. Someone was ducking out of the way every time he checked. But who could possibly want to follow him? His first thought was that L hadn't been able to stand the thought of him going out alone. But after catching a glimpse of red eyes, he knew that it couldn't be him. No…this was someone else. Someone darker.
But none of that mattered for the moment, for Light had just reached his home. He let himself in swiftly, locking the door behind him. Even if it was only for a moment, he felt safe from those prying eyes. Whoever this person was, whatever he wanted, he couldn't hurt him here.
Now, the only thing he had left to do was—
"Light!"
The teen's breath was forced out of him as a pink blur tackled him. Said blur was far too small to knock him down, but was more than enough to send him stumbling back into the door. "Hey," he protested, "are you trying to kill me?"
"Big brother!" an excited voice squealed happily. "You're home!"
A grin found its way onto Light's face. It had been far too long. "It's good to see you, Sayu. I've missed you."
Bright brown eyes stared up at him excitedly. "I'm so excited you've come to visit us! Ever since you took that internship program thing, we haven't seen you at all!"
"Yeah," Light said with an amused chuckle, "sorry about that. They haven't let me have a phone in the workplace, and I'm working so much that when I get home, I just collapse. I haven't had any time at all to email you or talk on the phone with you."
Sayu's lips drew into a pout. "I noticed, you meanie! You could have spared five minutes for me, yeah?"
"I'll make it up to you," Light promised. "I'll take you out for ice cream the next time I visit, okay?"
"Why not now? You're here, right? You have time!"
"Not enough of it, unfortunately." Light reached a hand down and ruffled Sayu's hair affectionately. Of all the people he'd ever known, Sayu was one of the only ones he'd ever felt any genuine affection for. Seeing her now, after so long apart, made his heart swell with unparalleled joy. "I'm only here for a brief visit. Next time, though, I promise I'll plan ahead so we can spend some time together."
"Aww, okay," Sayu relented. "But you have to promise, okay?"
"Of course. I promise, Sayu."
Sayu smiled up at him, that bright smile that never failed to cheer him up. Her arms finally released him, and Light was able to draw in a much-needed breath. "Okay, deal! Now come on, mom is waiting in the kitchen!"
Light allowed himself to be pulled forward by the hand, tugged towards the kitchen. In a matter of moments they were through the doorway, and Light felt another surge of happiness as he saw his mother for the first time in months.
Sachiko turned on heel upon hearing the commotion, and the instant she saw her son, her eyes lit up. "Light, dear! It's so good to see you!" Sayu ducked out of the way just in time for Sachiko to pull Light into a hug, avoiding being caught up in the middle.
"Good to see you too, mom." Light carefully disentangled himself from her embrace, feeling even more sore after having the breath squeezed out of him twice in the span of as many minutes. "It's been a while."
"I swear," Sachiko sighed, hands still gripping Light's arms affectionately, "you should never have taken that internship. I don't know what your father was thinking, letting you go."
"Speaking of which, where is father?" Light asked, watching as Sachiko moved back to the stove, where a pot of water was boiling. "I haven't seen him today."
"Oh, he's off doing who knows what. He had the day off today, but he still ended up going out."
Light sighed deeply. "Of course he did." That was how it always was. His father worked constantly, always at work and never at home, and even in his free time he went back to his job. And after he fought so hard for me to come home, too…does he actually care, or is he just doing this because he feels like he should actually care about his son? "Do you know if he'll be back in the next few hours?"
"I'm afraid I'm not sure," Sachiko replied. She swept over to one of the cabinets and fished a box of tea leaves from the bottom shelf. "You'll be wanting jasmine, I assume?"
Light gave a nod in response, but his eyes weren't on his mother. Instead, he was glancing around the kitchen, noticing all the little things that weren't working correctly. The table wobbled when Sayu leaned on it. The cabinet hinges shrieked in protest when they were forced to move. The faucet dripped unless the handle was turned just right. There was a crack in the window that seemed to have expanded since he'd last seen it. He felt an eye twitch in irritation. This was his father's job, to make sure the house was taken care of while Sachiko worked on raising Sayu, and—up until a few months ago—him. But it was obvious that Soichiro hadn't been doing a thing about the way the house was beginning to show its age. It wasn't a bad place by any stretch of the imagination, but still…all these little things screamed at him, speaking volumes about just where Soichiro's head had been in the past few months.
Sayu seemed to notice his irritated expression, for she was swift to change the subject. "So, how's the internship program been treating you?"
"It's fine," Light responded. "The guy I'm working with is a real handful, but we get on just fine."
"Is he cute?"
"Sayu!" Light gasped, feigning horror. "How could my innocent little sister bear to ask me such a thing?"
She grinned devilishly. "Come on, you gotta tell me! What's he like?"
He didn't even know where to begin trying to describe L to Sayu. But he took comfort in knowing that no matter what he said, neither his mother nor Sayu would think any less of him. After all, they were the only two (other than L himself) that knew his secret—the reason he'd never spared so much as a glance at the countless girls who'd thrown themselves his way over the years. "God, Sayu, I don't know! He's…I don't know, eccentric? One of those mad genius types."
"Ooh, so he's smart!" Sayu exclaimed excitedly. "Just your type, Light!"
"I swear, you're ridiculous," Light said in an amused tone. "You haven't gone one day since third grade without trying to pair me up with someone."
"Does he have short hair? No, wait—I bet he's grown it out just like you like, hasn't he? Is that why you like him?"
"You think I like him because of his hair?" Light asked, dumbfounded. "It's a lot more than that, you know!"
"Ha! So you do like him!"
Light stared, mouth hanging open. Had his own sister just outwitted him? Actually, now that he thought about it, it wasn't that surprising. He couldn't seem to think straight where L was involved.
Sachiko, now in the process of preparing tea with the pot of boiling water on the stove, let out that tinkling laugh of hers that lit up the room. "She's got you there, Light." She passed a cup of tea to the teen. "Just who is this mystery man, anyways?"
What had L asked him to call him when they first met? Oh, yes, he remembered. "His name is Rue, and he's the detective I've been assigned to."
"But I was right about the hair, right?"
Light narrowed his eyes at his sister. "It's shaggy at best."
"What about his eyes? Are they blue, or green, or something different?"
"Sayu, I'm not going to describe every bit of him to you!"
"I didn't ask about everything, just his hair and his eyes!"
Pursing his lips, Light replied, "They're dark, like his hair. And that's all I'll tell you!" He was more than aware that describing L in any way, even to his own family, could be dangerous.
Sachiko passed a cup of tea to Sayu, then took a sip of her own. "Just make sure he treats you well, dear. I would hate for you to make things awkward between you and the man you'll be working with for the next couple of months."
"I know what I'm doing," the teen murmured, unnerved. He took a long sip of his tea to avoid having to say more. "So, what have you been up to?"
Sachiko opened her mouth to respond, but before she could do so much as get a word out, Sayu was bubbling on excitedly. "You wouldn't believe it!" she squealed. "I actually managed to get a B in math, and I had the second highest grade in my class on the last test! And there's this new kid at school too, and I don't remember his name, but he's adorable! Oh, and Hideki Ryuga is going to be in that new movie, and I'm totally going to see it, and you should too! And I started this amazing new show, Light, you'd love it! Remember when we used to sit together and watch new episodes of whatever we were watching at the time? Well, when you get back from this internship, we have to sit down and watch all the episodes, because there's magic, and dragons, and flying cats, and talking cats, and guilds, and—!"
That warmth in his heart swelled drastically as Light listened to his sister go off on one of her rants, as she did when she got too excited. It's peaceful, he thought, gaze swinging from his sister to his mother, who was watching Sayu with a proud smile. It's just like things were before I discovered the Death Note. It's just like things were before I became involved with L. A pang of sadness tore through him, and for just a moment he almost began to regret everything—but then he shook his head lightly, clearing the unwelcome thoughts, and returned himself to the present. It didn't matter what was in the past. What mattered was the new path he was forging with L, and the new world they would create together.
Light shuddered at the thought, unable to stop himself from shaking. A new world…it sounds too much like the old me. L…whatever you're planning, I hope it doesn't lead us to that bleak future.
†††
The next few hours passed just as peacefully, only interrupted when Light found himself fighting unpleasant thoughts of his current situation. Sayu seemed thrilled to have her brother back, even if it was only for a day, and Sachiko seemed equally pleased to be able to speak with her son as she hadn't for months. But unfortunately, all good things had to end, and this was no exception. It wasn't long until Light was standing back on the steps of his childhood home with his family at his side, Soichiro excluded. He'd never returned home.
"Do you really have to go?" Sayu whined sadly, arms wrapped around his middle like a pair of boa constrictors. Her face was pressed into his shirt, muffling her voice. "I miss you, big brother…"
"Sorry," he apologized, and he meant it. "But Rue will have my head if I'm not back soon to keep working on this case we've been trying to crack." He turned his gaze on his mother, who looked just as sullen as Sayu did. "Don't worry," he assured them weakly, "I'll come back as soon as I can, and I promise I'll help you out with fixing a few things around the house. That is, provided father hasn't done it already by the time I return."
"You know he won't," Sayu grumbled, so low that only Light could hear. "He never does. It's always been us."
Light threaded his fingers through her hair, pretending he hadn't heard. "It'll be okay, Sayu. Just…keep studying, and maybe you can get that A in math by the time I come back, yeah?"
That cheered her up. She finally released him, returning to Sachiko's side with a watery smile. "You got it, Light! I won't let you down!"
"I know you won't." Light accepted a brief hug from Sachiko, then another from Sayu, before stepping off the porch and onto the walkway leading to the streets beyond. "I'll see you guys later, okay?"
"Bye!" Sayu called as he turned away. "Come back soon, Light!"
The teen waved back at her. Then, refusing to let himself break down and decide to stay, he took off down the street.
He walked in silence for a few moments, just until he was out of eyesight. Then he paused, looking around with trepidation. He was searching for that flash of movement, that hint of scarlet that had followed him from headquarters. But after a few moments, when he was unable to detect anything but the quiet sounds of his neighborhood, he decided that whoever the person was, he'd left. Good. Now Light would be able to do what he really wanted to do. Glancing down at his watch, he saw that he'd spent about five hours with his family. That was unfortunate—he'd told L two hours tops. But now that he was this late, he might as well treat himself. And there was somewhere he'd been wanting to go for quite a few days now.
Light circled around the back of his house and climbed over the fence with ease. Making sure he was away from the windows, he snuck over to the well-trodden pathway leading into the forest. Then, without even the slightest consideration for what could happen to him if that person found him while he was isolated and alone, he zipped into the forest.
I'll be fine, he told himself as he walked the path he knew so well. Whoever that person is—if there actually is a person—they don't know the forest like I do. Even if they follow me, I can outrun them and get them lost. This place is like a maze, after all.
It didn't take him long to find the clearing. It was still early, only three in the afternoon, so the entire place was lit just the way he liked it. Light strolled casually to the center of the clearing, shoving his hands into his pockets and craning his neck to stare at the cloudless sky. It was so sunny, so warm…it pierced straight through to his core. He closed his eyes and let the sun strike him at full force. It had been so long since he'd felt this way…this free. He cared for L deeply, he truly did, but not even the affection he felt for the detective could take the place of the enjoyment he felt from being in this place. It was so peaceful. So serene. So…
Light froze.
He'd heard it. Somewhere behind him, at the edge of the clearing, a twig had snapped. It could have been an animal, but no…there was nothing big enough to create that loud of a sound in this forest. His entire form tensed, muscles locked and prepared to take action in self-defense. If he had to fight this intruder, whoever he was, he wouldn't hesitate. But still…with every move he made, Light's entire body ached. It wasn't too bad, not after the previous night's rest, but it was enough to put him at a disadvantage. If whoever was here was strong, then he could be in serious danger.
Trying to remain calm and appear oblivious, Light started to move for the fallen tree. He would climb over it, crouch on the other side, and arm himself with whatever he could find. In a place like this, it would probably be a branch, but it was better than nothing. He kept his movements smooth and nonchalant as he walked. Just a little further, he knew. Just a bit more, and he would be as safe as he could possibly be. At the very least he'd have something at his back that wasn't his pursuer. He reached it, then—hands reached out and pressed to the trunk of the tree, and he prepared himself to climb over.
"Not so fast, princess."
Light's blood ran cold as the voice sounded in a low growl, inches from his ear. His heart was beating out of control as he realized that he could quite possibly have just walked into a very nasty situation. His eyes searched for an out, some kind of escape—but as he stood, cornered between the tree and the mysterious voice, he found that he had no way of escape.
He was trapped.
We're teetering on the edge of part two of this story, which I'm super excited about! I think the first half of this story is okay and all, but part two is where I really think it shines—which is something I've said countless times before. I can't describe how thrilled I am to begin moving into the second part of this story, and I hope you all stick around for what I have in store!
Thanks for reading, and happy holidays!