Disclaimer: I do not own Death Note.


For the longest time, Light was only able to stare at the door through which L had left. Finally he realized his pants were down for the second time in as many hours (and again nothing had happened) and pulled them up.

He didn't have the strength to get out of bed, though. His legs felt like jelly, for one thing, and for another it would probably be hard to walk with a hard-on this raging. Maybe a shower would be good for that bit, but he'd have to get up to do it, so probably not.

He dropped onto his back and stared at the ceiling now, for variety.

What had just happened?

No, that was the wrong question. Light knew what had just happened, it was what always happened: L had just played him, just like he always did. L had tricked him and played him like a bloody violin. All he'd had to do was allow Light to run around, trying to make L want him, and let Light destroy himself. He hadn't even had to work.

He'd proven that Light was just as obsessed with L as L was with Light. That even if Light slept with someone else, dumped him, manipulated him, tricked him… anything… that L was genuinely on his mind. That in that way at least, Light wasn't better than him.

This was unhealthy. This was obsessive and weird and unusual and it would be the death of Light (or at least of his reputation or something) if literature and common sense were anything to go by. And he'd probably take L down with him.

But it would be a fun way to go.

So what should he do? Fall for it, admit defeat, give in and beg? (No.) That was what L wanted, though probably not what L actually expected.

He could escalate— that was his way. That would be winning, except it would be losing in that it would be what L was expecting. But the winning would come in that he wouldn't be begging.

So really, he would win either way. Be unexpected, or continue trying to dominate?

Beg like L wanted, or take it to the next level?

Light sat up in bed, finally maybe ready to get to the bathroom and take care of this problem. A regular person would probably just give in, now. Win by giving in unexpectedly, like walking away from a bully. But it just wasn't Light's way: he was dramatic and flamboyant and if he begged not only would he lose his self-respect but it would be over and who knew what would become of them then.

Or he could drag this out. Poke the hot coals. Throw gasoline on the embers.

He'd always thought he'd look good going down in flame.


So, the next day, Light tracked down J again. L had never returned the previous night and Light hadn't gone looking. He wouldn't be from now on. The objective fact, more than winning and losing, was that L wanted him. Well, L wasn't going to get what he wanted.

Today at least, J was. He found her at one of the community rooms, curled up on an armchair reading a book about frogs. More specifically, about possible disorders in the endocrine system of North American frogs.

It was going to be hard to be friendly with someone so dull and stupid, but Light was going to have to try.

He smoothly slid into the seat next to her, slipping his arm around her shoulders. She jumped. "Oh! K. Hello."

She wasn't being weird about the previous day. She really must understand. Well, understand the situation as it had been presented to her.

"Hi." He looked down at her book. "Disorders of the endocrine system of North American frogs. That's fascinating. Do you have an interest in frogs?"

She nodded, smiling. "In animals, actually. Frogs included. Animal behavior is okay but primarily animal anatomy. I think if this whole detective thing doesn't work out—" she laughed, "—that I'll be a biologist."

"A biologist," he said as if this was of any interest to him. "That's cool. That would really fit you, J. Good for you. Maybe you want to be a veterinarian?" Women liked that sort of thing, right?

"No way. I like cutting them up too much."

Come to think of it, she did have dissecting equipment in her room and she did smell faintly of formalin.

Light laughed. "That's great."

She dog-eared a page (Light twitched) and closed the book. "Enough small talk," she said. "Tell me about your conversation with L last night."

Light sighed and shrugged, dropping against the back of his armchair. "Not much to say, really. It's definitely over."

She nodded slowly. "Alright."

"We talked about it… I told him I felt used. That I wasn't really interested in staying together if there weren't any feelings, like I thought there were."

"Makes sense."

"He's said he loves me and I'm sure he does in a way, but I don't think he really knows what the words means. Or that he's capable of it. We're really close, J, but I think we should just have stayed friends. I think I got in over my head." He picked at an invisible thread on the knee of his pants. "Maybe I never felt for him what I thought I did, either. It's just so intense with him. You can probably imagine, with someone like L. You get caught up in the competition and how brilliant he is. I think it's easy to mistake admiration, respect, and friendship for love."

She was hooked. "I suppose it's similar," she agreed. "You're close and you regard him highly. I don't think anyone could blame you for making that mistake."

"I can." He looked down. "I just hope the friendship isn't lost. He's the best friend I have. I've never really let myself get close to other people, because of my dream of being the detective that Mr. Wammy wants us to be and avenging my family. I want to stop anyone else from ever having to go through what I had to go through and I can only do that if I devote myself entirely to the work. But he was an exception. He wasn't a distraction because he was my greatest competition."

"You've always been single-minded about that," she said gently.

"But now I think I've lost him. I don't know if I can trust him anymore. I don't know if he played me on purpose or if he is just so distant from his emotions that he really thought he loved me."

"L… is complicated," J agreed as if she had any idea of how complicated L really was. Light internally scoffed. No one knew L but him. "It's hard to say. He could be enough of a jerk do that on purpose. But it could also have been entirely innocent."

He looked down. "I think I might not really know what love is, either." Then he looked up at met J's eyes. "But then again, maybe I do."

Her eyes widened slightly.

Light took a deep breath. "The thing is, I've always been aware of you." He hesitated. "Ever since that night where you told me how you felt about me. Before that, probably. I've always known when you were there, in the room with me, and when you were it was always just better. Lighter, almost." He smiled as if to himself. "I always wanted to have classes with you. It's like I can always pick you out in a crowd. Always hear your voice above all the others in a noisy room. I… I think you're the most beautiful girl I've ever seen. It's like, who you are? Your… your soul. It shines out of you, and it makes you radiant. I've always thought you just glowed." He made his voice crack. He'd practiced that in his room until he'd mastered it when he was about 13. "And I can't believe that no one else has ever seen it. That out of all these people who see you every day, spend time with you every day, that out of every man, woman, and child in this entire building and everyone at camp and everyone on the streets when you pass them, no one has ever realized how special you are. Except me. And I knew it the moment I met you."

He hesitantly reached for her hand. She let him take it.

"It was never like that, with L," he added, speaking slower now as if just realizing something important. "I was obsessed, I know, but I was never… I don't know. Warm. With him there was fire and ice but there was never contentment. Never comfort. He was a puzzle, an intellectual challenge, but he was never comfort. He wasn't kind or gentle or loving or supportive or…" He made his voice crack again for dramatic effect. "He was just never you. He could never, ever be you."

"Funny," she said, breathless. She was so gullible, so stupid… but to be fair, Light thought, it had been a damn good love speech. "That's what I've always thought of you."

She framed his face with her hands, leaned in, and kissed him.

It was everything kissing L wasn't. It was kind and gentle and loving and he screwed his eyes shut to wait for it to be over. She was just not L. She rested their foreheads together when she finally (finally!) ended the kiss, a gentle smile on her lips. "It could be like this," she said. "I know I'm not your competition, but like I told you years ago, I won't distract you. I can help you study or leave you alone when you need to be." She moved back to kiss his forehead. "Let me support you."

It was what he'd wanted. He'd wanted escalation. This certainly was that.

He took her hand from where it rested on his face, twining their fingers together and resting their linked hands on his knee. "Yes," he said, smiling. "I want this."

"Me too," she said. She was being so honest with him that he almost felt bad, or he would if he felt guilty about things ever.

He laughed with entirely fake joy and leaned in to kiss her again. "Give me time though, okay?" he asked, brushing back her hair. "I moved too fast with L, and I don't want to do that again. Not with you." Mostly because he was 99.99% sure that he wouldn't be able to have any sort of sexual reaction with her even in the room.

"That's fine," she agreed. "I'm not L." She smiled widely. "That's not the only thing I want you for."

He sighed as if this were a huge relief to hear. "I knew that but it's so nice when you say it aloud."

She leaned in, kissing both of his cheekbones. "Then I'll keep saying it. I want to hold your hand. I want to help you do your work. I want to stay my own person and help you be an even better version of yourself, if such a thing is possible. I want long talks. I want to understand you and spend time with you, and let you in to understand me, too. Basically, yes, K. I can wait for that part of the relationship, as long as I don't have to wait for you."

Fake tear, right eye, mastered at ten years old.

She brushed it away with a thumb and leaned in to kiss him again.

Light squeezed his eyes shut and waited for her to stop.


They entered the cafeteria hand in hand that day, Light beaming like nothing in the world could be better than holding J's hand. People were watching, but more importantly, L was there, trying not to.

Light knew he had him from the way L wouldn't look, knew he'd escalated it just like he'd wanted to. Raised the bar. And he knew that L knew it, too. No begging, no giving in. This was war, now, on a totally different front than it had been for them before.

He paraded past L's table to get to the buffet, holding J's plate for her as she picked out her food, and only then getting his own food. They sat down within sight of L. He could see him out of the corner of his eye, but he never pointed his face in his direction. He didn't even mention him, and they'd 'broken up' less than 24 hours ago. By all appearances he was completely indifferent, as if he'd entirely forgotten L even existed.

When really, he always was and always had been aware of him, whenever he was in the room, from the very first day they'd met.

Radiant.