To InsaneRabbit: I thank you for your amazing review. I am glad that you think I did a great job with creating this universe. I am also happy that you share my opinion about the different kind of genius. People truly are close-minded when it comes to genius, it really is a shame.
Also, I believe you kind of called me a genius for writing about all those geniuses, so once again, thank you, I am flattered.
I'm very happy that you like this story, and I hope that you'll like what is to come.
Please keep reviewing, it was a pleasure reading from you.
To AlmaDreams9: Thank you so much for your compliments, it really means a lot to me. I find it very difficult to portray the evolution of a relationship as twisted as the one L and Light share and I was afraid to fail, so if I succeeded in some way, I am more than glad.
Hoping you'll like what's next and that you'll keep sharing your thoughts!
To LottieRaven: I answered your review by PM, I hope you did receive it.
Chapter 8: S
It had been one month since the 'B incident' had occurred, and R admitted to being astonished to find Blood was still locked in that dark, small room on the third floor, monitored by only L's irregular presence and E's much more recurrent one. He was even more amazed to realize he was not the only one to take interest in B's condition.
The last two weeks, he felt another presence, a taller, black silhouette hovering somewhere in the corridor as he listened at the closed door. And finally, one day, the unwelcome presence made itself known.
"Ray," a steady, neutral voice caused him to whirl around to face a lean, black-haired boy with grey eyes. "If you're going to spy on them like this everyday, you've got to be a little more discreet."
"S." Ray spat in response as he finally recognized the older boy, who revealed to be H's most close acquaintance. "Thank you for your concern, but you should know I have never been discovered as for now."
"Sure. That was only an advice. After all, they don't call me Spy for nothing."
Oh. So that is what he's good at, Ray thought rather detachedly. Spying. Great.
"Well then, Spy," he replied, emphasising the other's nickname in disdain, "if you're so good at spying, as your nickname suggests, you'll be able to tell me why Blood has been detained in that room for one whole month."
"Of course." The dark-haired male answered evenly, his grey eyes never leaving R's. "But I'm not sure you're ready to know what's happening behind that door."
"I'm perfectly able to know what I can handle and what I cannot, thank you." snapped Ray as the corner of his mouth curled up in contempt. "So now that you're here and that you've finally come out of the shadows, you'd do well to tell me what you know."
Spy averted his gaze to glance at the black door, as if to search for motivation, before he spoke in a low, confidential tone. "It's been weeks since L and Eve had been interviewing him. They sometimes asked for H's support, in case he lost his mind, freed himself from his binds and tried to assault them." He paused, as if unsure how to proceed. "The Wammy's House and its executives, namely Watari and Roger, are trying to understand Blood, to know if he ought to be transferred to an asylum or simply follow a therapy of some sort. Eve is trying to enter his soul, while L is trying to penetrate his mind. So far, as you can guess, it's been a complete waste."
"Then why didn't they free him?" R frowned in dismay. "They can't lock him there for ever, that would be against the most basic human rights."
"Humans rights?" Spy repeated with a snort, his gaze still fixed on the door. "L and Eve don't care about human rights."
"What do you mean?" Ray could not help but feel a thin thread of dread creep in his guts.
"As you must've noticed, L lives for intellectual challenge, while Eve lives to study peculiarities. What place do you think human rights hold in such obsessed minds?"
"I see." R retorted dryly, raising a hand to rest under his chin in a thoughtful way. "So you are basically saying that L and Eve, the two oldest and wisest students of this institution, have been torturing Blood for one month in order to learn informations, and that the Directors just gave a tacit assent but other than that, didn't even lift a finger to stop them?"
"I'm only telling you what I gathered from the few times I... paid a visit." Spy shrugged nonchalantly, but no less elegantly in his white shirt and black slacks. "You're the one who's drawing the conclusions."
"I see. Yet something is troubling me." The strength of Ray's amber eyes seemed to dig holes into S's head. "Why are you spying on them?"
"I only did what I had to." S said dully, and he turned around, heading towards the exit of the hallway. "Just like you, I suppose." And he disappeared into the darkness of the moonlight.
Ray stared at his back until it vanished from his vision at the far end of the corridor, and all he could think of was how familiar the words he just heard sounded to him. Soon enough, his overdeveloped mind was able to make the link between those words and his memories.
That's right.
These are the exact same words Harm is always repeating, over and over.
That can only mean one thing. They are working towards the same goal.
Now, the question is...
Who are they working for?
The answer to this question came only several weeks ago.
It took its sweet time probably because he had many other issues to investigate beforehand. Such as L's extracurricular hobbies on the third floor for instance. One night, he decided he couldn't bear not to know anymore, so he followed L to the room with the idea to confront him.
As expected, at eleven pm, L left his dormitory and headed towards the third floor in his usual nonchalant attitude, unaware of the two shadows which remained attached to his steps. Once arrived in the moonlit corridor, Ray stole a glance above his shoulder in time to see S merge into the darkness of a small corner created by a protruding wall and a door.
Ray nodded to him and, leaving his own hiding place, he rushed slightly to catch up with L, who stopped in his tracks.
"Who is there?" L asked in a monotone without even bothering to turn around.
"L." R called confidently. "It's Ray."
There was a silence, then, "What are you doing here, Ray? You should be in bed." L's voice was suddenly lower, more threatening.
"As should you, L." He replied defiantly as he took the last steps which still separated him from L. "I know you've been there quite often recently, to talk with B — or should I say — to make him talk. I want to know why." He added firmly when he finally reached L's side.
The world's greatest detective had his head bent downwards, his hands dug into his jeans pocket, his onyx eyes drowned under his black spiky mop of hair. He looked wether defeated or completely hypnotized by an unknown entity. Frowning and slightly worried, though he would never admit it, Ray lay a hand on the older boy's forearm.
"L?"
"That is, I am afraid, none of your business, Ray." answered L in a strange aloof voice after one moment's pause. He seemed to have finally emerged from his torpor and raised his head to look at R. "It is very late. You should go back to your dormitory. And never come back." He averted his gaze to the black door which stood on his left. "What happens behind that door stays behind that door."
"But what are you doing behind that door?"
Another silence. Then, L whirled around to face him, and his eyes gleamed in the moonlight, just like two gems waiting to be discovered and Ray found himself drawn towards those shining orbs. He wanted to get closer, always closer, to decipher this eerie flicker, to dissect those pupils, to embrace them, to dive into those dark waters, to kiss this shadows, to...
He froze when he finally regained his senses. He had closed the distance between L and himself, and stood now face to face with a very perplexed detective who was staring at him intently, head bowed to the side. Instead of appearing disturbed or scared by this sudden proximity, Ray lifted his chin proudly and spoke, as fiercely as ever.
"I know that you've been here with Eve to try and make him talk. I've heard some weird noises. I don't know what exactly you've been doing, but something is sure: it certainly isn't very legal." He stretched to stand on his tiptoes. "So what are you going to do? Get rid of me? Threaten me? Buy my silence?" He paused, gauging how his words affected the detective, but the latter looked as impassive and unconcerned as ever. "Or you could simply give me the answers I want."
Several seconds passed during which nothing happened. Finally, a light sigh escaped L's lips and he placed a cold hand on Ray's shoulder.
"I will do nothing of the sort." L said simply, his hand applying a light but comfortable pressure on R's shoulder. "But I assure you, Ray, you do not want to know what I am doing in this room. Yet, it is strictly necessary. B is insane, uncontrollable, inhuman. Any conventional means would be utterly inefficient. I don't have a choice."
And L turned to seize the doorknob when he was interrupted by Ray's warm hand on his.
"No! You do have a choice. Take him to an asylum. Put him to jail. Clearly, his place isn't in an orphanage and you know it!"
"Unfortunately, it is not mine to decide." L deadpanned, but he made no move to open the door. "Watari and Roger wish to keep him here."
"Did they ask you and Eve to torture him, too? Because you're the eldest students? The strongest? Or the less human, perhaps?"
At those words, Ray was sure he felt an almost imperceptible shudder go through L's back and arm. Instinctively, he tightened his grip on L's pallid hand.
"Of course not," L snapped suddenly, even though his voice remained perfectly controlled. "They merely asked us to make him talk. The means used to do so are mine and E's only."
All of a sudden, both his concern and determination faded away all at once, leaving nothing but weariness and disgust. "Fine," Ray spat as he removed his hand from L's, noticing another chill running through L's spine as he withdrew from him. "Do whatever you want. I knew you were no human, anyway."
Without further ado, he turned away from the detective and started towards the stairs, keen on leaving this sombre place as soon as possible and forgetting all about L's role in the treatment of one deranged pupil.
He was about to exit the corridor when he heard a steady echo of a very well-known emotionless voice.
"Goodnight, Ray. I suggest you cease your nocturnal prospections from now on. Surely you have something better to do at this late hour..."
Ray didn't waste time to answer and instead pick up the pace. When he crossed the path of a tall, dark shape hidden in the dark between two windows, he mumbled angrily. "Let it go. There's nothing to see." And he descended the stairs, well aware that the shadow wasn't following him, but too unnerved to care.
That night, he didn't wait to hear L's quiet footsteps regaining his dormitory.
That night, he went to his bed as soon as he passed the door and he fell asleep as soon as his ear fell on the pillow.
The morning after, Ray entered the cafeteria to have breakfast. As soon as he raised his head, his brown eyes met dark onyx. He maintained eye contact for a few seconds, then he turned away and headed for another table, sitting next to Matt and across from Mello.
"Hi, Ray," said Matt in his usual cheerful but absent tone.
"Hello, Matt." He answered neutrally, and crossed Mello's blue eyes, "Hello, Mello."
The blonde boy only nodded and bit into his chocolate bar.
Croc.
"You're not sitting with L this morning." Mello remarked, his eyes narrowed in suspicion.
"Indeed." Ray looked up from his scrambled eggs to sneak a peek at the blonde.
"Why?"
"That's none of you business, Mello."
"Oh, come on!" Mello leant back against his chair, spreading his arms in exasperation. "Don't play mysterious with us, Ray. It doesn't work anymore." He opened his thin mouth, as if to add something, but he shut it instantly, eyebrows furrowing as he looked far ahead. "Hey. What d'you think Near's doing?"
Mirroring Mello's frowning, Ray rotated his upper body to follow Mello's piercing gaze.
Indeed, at the far end of the room was Near, crouched on the ground, Legos scattered all around him, and before him stood Harm and Spy, looming over him and seeming to be entranced by what they were hearing. Despite Near's position, there was no doubt he had the upper hand in whatever conversation he was sharing with the tall black-clad students.
"That's strange," said Ray, still frowning in confusion, "Near is never present at breakfast. So why would he be today, and furthermore, to speak with Harm and Spy."
"Hmm. Maybe he's tired of his loneliness and decided to have a social life."
Mello and Ray both turned towards Matt who had taken his eyes off his GameBoy Advance to utter this absurd theory.
"Yeah, sure," Mello jeered, the corners of his lips twisting into a smirk, "and tomorrow he'll start a classical dance club."
"Wait. Is that possible?" Matt asked in sudden interest, blinking at the blonde. "Can we create some clubs?"
Mello only growled and kicked Matt's foot under the table.
"Ow!"
"Seriously, Matt! Come. on." Mello grumbled through gritted teeth as he leant forward on his elbows. "Near's been weird lately. Not so focused on his cards, didn't finish his last puzzle, didn't fill the common room with those fucking towers of dice, didn't knock off all his dominos either..." He made a dramatic pause and glanced at Matt and Ray alternatively. "I'm telling you, something's wrong with Near. And I wanna know why."
"Okay, let's say you're right." Matt shrugged. "So what? What're you gonna do, hm?"
"That's the problem. I don't know yet. But I'm gonna find a way, trust me."
"Why don't you ask him?" Matt proposed, though his voice was lacking faith.
"Are you kidding me?" Mello almost shouted, scowling at this friend as if he were mere garbage. "Why don't I ask him? Why don't I ask him?! Well, maybe because he hates me! And I hate him!"
"Then, if you hate him so much, why are you wondering what is wrong with him?" Ray interrupted Mello's rant in a calm, composed tone, impervious to Matt's slight nervousness and Mello's fury.
"Because... because..." Mello started in raged, trembling voice. "Because I wanna know! Because he's my enemy! And to beat him, I have to find his weakness, don't I?"
"I guess you do," agreed Matt, still not so convinced. "But Ray's got a point, though. You seem to know all of his activities. Why, Mello? Why are you so concerned?"
"Because... I just told you!" Mello exploded, attracting several alarmed looks from A, C, I and J among others. He lowered his voice before continuing, "I wanna know what's wrong so I can use it against him!"
"Alright, alright!" Matt intervened, extending his hands before him in a peaceful gesture. "You wanna know his weakness, alright. So what are you gonna do?"
"If I may," R answered in Mello's place, "I think you should start by questioning H and S."
"Really?" Mello's blue eyes glued to R's hazel orbs, suspicious anew. "Why?"
"Well, Near is making an exception to his loneliness for them, isn't he?"
Mello averted R's gaze to look at the white-haired boy sitting at the other end of the room. "You're right. That's a start." Without another word, he stood, took his tray and went away.
"I've got something to do, see you in Literature."
"Okay." Matt answered absently while Ray only nodded in his orange juice.
Just the morning after something happened on the third floor, Near appears at breakfast and is talking to S.
How odd.
After a long day of class, Ray was studying in the library, as he was used to, when he heard some muffled voices coming from behind the nearest shelves. Frowning at the disturbance, he looked up from his law essay about the death penalty and tried to recognise whose the voices belonged to. Obliged to admit he couldn't, he stood up and went to the shelves, pretending to search for a handbook on criminal law, just then he could finally decipher some words.
"...still locked up in that room on the third floor," came a strong feminine voice he could easily associate with Harm.
"I know. Yesterday, I saw Ray confront L about it. L wasn't very keen on admitting what he was doing in this room by night," answered a lower voice which clearly belonged to Spy.
"I see." A cold, slightly higher voice interfered. Ray widened his eyes when he recognised Near's bland voice. "And if he refused to confide in Ray, we can suppose he won't say a word to anyone." After that, deafening ticking noises of something light colliding with wood came from behind the rows of books.
Tic. Tic. Tic. Tic. Tic. Tic. Tic. Tic. Tic. Tic. Tic. Tic. Tic. Tic. Tic. Tic. Tic. Tic. Tic. Tic. Tic. Tic. Tic. Tic. Tic. Tic. Tic. Tic. Tic. Tic. Tic. Tic. Tic.
Ray winced and pressed his hands to his ears.
"Why not?" asked Spy.
"Because L seems to be very close to Ray," Harm replied in an even tone, as if it were mere blatancy. "I was there when B tried to kill him. L was out of his mind. I never saw him so... expressive."
"Precisely." Near confirmed in his usual icy tone. "Thus we can be sure that, if L talks to anyone, it will be Ray."
"Alright. So what do we do? Watch over Ray, or watch over L?"
"Watch over both." Near answered casually.
"Okay."
"By the way," the only female cut in their conversation, "Mello came to me this morning to ask me about you, Near."
The ticking and rubbing noises stopped abruptly, and Ray guessed Near's hand was frozen above the dominos he was playing with.
"About me?"
"Yes. He affirmed something was wrong with you and he wanted to know what."
"Why would Mello want to know what is wrong with me?" Near's voice sounded hushed, almost hesitant.
"No idea." H answered bluntly. "Maybe he's aware of what is taking place on the third floor."
"I seriously doubt it."
"Me too," Spy agreed. "All those nights I spent spying on L and Eve, I was alone, except for Ray who was trying to uncover L's whereabouts. And I'm quite sure Ray would never share what he saw, or what he thinks for that matter, with anyone."
"It makes sense." H said with no real conviction. "Though that doesn't tell me what I am to do with Mello."
"Do whatever you want, Harm." Near stated emotionlessly. "If you think it best to share our informations with Mello, you are free to do so."
"Fine. Now if you'll excuse me, I have a private lesson with Miss Misora."
"You're free to go, Harm."
With a regular, steady tapping noise of heels on the parquet, H left the library, leaving only Near and Spy at a table, and Ray hiding behind a bookshelf.
"Are you sure about that?" Spy asked in a slightly worried tone.
"About what?"
"About telling Mello. Or letting Harm tell him. I mean, do you really trust Mello with these informations?" He paused, and resumed more quietly, urgently. "This is no game, Near. If what happens on the third floor reached the local authorities, it could undoubtedly lead to legal procedure and probably the closure of the Wammy's House."
"I know, Spy." Near said blankly. "But Mello knows it as well. If he were to get hold of those informations, I am sure he would be clever enough to keep them for himself."
"If you say so."
There was a silence, and then Spy spoke again, this time with more certainty and less anxiety.
"What about Eve? She's involved in all this too. Even if she's not getting her hands dirty like L is, she must—"
"Only because she is not physically hurting B doesn't mean she is not getting her hands dirty. Sometimes, mental torture is much worse than physical torture. Especially when it's done by someone as insensitive and detached as Eve."
"Eve? Insensitive and detached?" Spy snorted half-heartedly. "Near, that's L you're describing, not Eve. We both know that if someone isn't human in this school, it would be L, not Eve."
For unknown reasons, Ray felt his blood boiling in his veins at those words, and his grip on the book was so harsh that his nails was digging into the cover. And for some other unknown reason, Near seemed to share his disagreement.
"That's where you are wrong, Spy." He said firmly, his voice totally void of any feeling. Another ticking noise told Ray he was rebuilding his rows of dominos. "Eve was the one who decided that L did not deserve a name because she considered he was not human enough. Who is the less human of all? The one who is declared inhuman or the one who chooses who is human and who is not?"
"Yes, well, I admit she's a bit twisted and probably not very sane, but we are all mad in our own way here, so—"
"No." Near cut him off sharply. "You do not understand what I am telling you. Listen well, Spy." Three consecutive tapping noises announced he had placed three more dominos. "Who is deciding who should have a name and who should not? Who is deciding of all the children's names? Who is deciding which name we will bear and be called by our whole life? Who is aware of all the stories that we want to hide? Who is trying to enter our minds when talking to us? Who is playing God here?"
Silence answered him, indicating that Spy couldn't find an answer to those numerous questions.
"This is Eve, not L." Near continued mercilessly. "L might seem callous and heartless, but he never proclaimed himself to be inhuman. Eve did, and she decided he did not deserve a name for that reason. Think about it: someone who thinks themselves above others, enough to claim who deserves to be treated as humans and who doesn't. Doesn't it ring a bell?"
"Er... This is someone playing God, I suppose." Spy tried, though not sounding too convinced by his own conclusion.
"No. This is not a simple fool playing God. This is a psychopath, a tyrant, a mad man." Near marked a pause, as if to make sure his words sank in Spy's brain. "I don't know about you, but I only know of one person who ever behaved that way."
Another silence pointed the fact that Spy was once again speechless, and thus, Near supplied an answer.
"Adolf Hitler."
This time, the silence seemed to reach not only Spy, but the entire library and perhaps the entire building. It was cutting, cold and empty. The blood that was burning Ray's veins before had now turned to ice, and chills were running down his spine, enhancing this overwhelming feeling of cool dread. He was quite certain Spy was in the same state as him, for a few minutes later, the deep, tough voice of S resounded in the whole library, but it was never so weak, so tremulous than it was at that very moment.
"Right. I'll just go, now, I think. I'll take a look at the third floor tonight, see if I can learn a bit more. I'll... focus my research on L, I think."
"Yes, do that," answered Near, his voice as dispassionate as ever. "It is useless to try and spy on Eve. Leave her to L."
"Okay... See you tomorrow, Near."
"Goodnight, Spy."
Another pair of tapping noises on the parquet, those far less steady, told Ray that he was now alone in the library with Near. When the door shut, he sighed quietly, straightened his jacket collar, settled his fringe on his forehead and sat back at his chair.
The law essay about death penalty seemed suddenly and strangely bright and appealing.
He was so entranced with his subject that he didn't hear the next concert of ticking noises that came from the other side of the shelves.
Tic. Tic. Tic. Tic. Tic. Tic. Tic. Tic. Tic. Tic. Tic. Tic. Tic. Tic. Tic. Tic. Tic. Tic. Tic. Tic. Tic. Tic. Tic. Tic. Tic. Tic. Tic. Tic. Tic. Tic. Tic. Tic. Tic. Tic.
After his rather conflicting discussion with L that one night on the third floor, in front of that damned black door, R resigned himself to ignore L. At first, he thought he could manage just fine, however soon enough he realized it was going to be anything but a piece of cake, so to speak.
Wherever he went, he could feel the weight of two obsidian orbs boring into his head. In the morning at the cafeteria, during the day in class, in the evenings at the library, and in the night, in the darkness of the corridors. In the depths of his slumber he could hear a deep, smooth voice slithering in his ears, he could see a white and blue shape floating in the sunset sky, dark disheveled strands dancing in the cold wind, and two black holes which wanted nothing but swallow him whole.
If he were quite honest with himself, he would say that every day and every night was an ordeal.
His tolerance threshold was reached on the 26th of February, that is to say, on his very birthday.
He was used, just like the other twenty-five pupils of the Wammy's House, to overlook his birthday on each year that passed, for his previous life was definitively over and the general philosophy of the House left no place for the past.
Yet, on the night of his fifteen's birthday, a knock on his door surprised him as he was revising his History lesson on the Second World War. His perspective mind immediately concluded to some of Roger's nightly visits, and without a second thought he went to open the door. When the wood withdrew to reveal the darkness of the corridor and more importantly, a dark mop of hair, two onyx gleaming eyes and white translucent skin, he froze.
"L." He said simply, lacking for a better salutation.
"Good evening, Ray," L greeted him in his usual monotone, and Ray fought not to shiver at hearing this soft sound he had missed far too much — even though he would never admit it.
"What are you doing here, L?" He asked perhaps a bit too aggressively, his brows furrowing in irritation.
"May I come in?"
Ray stared at the detective for several long seconds before he passed a hand through his hair and closed his eyes, shaking his head in disbelief.
"Fine." And he strode aside to let the older student in. Without leaving any time for L to object, he went to sit on his desk wheelchair, whirling around to face L who walked slowly towards the bed and perched himself on the edge, his naked tiptoes curling on the bedsheets.
R raised an eyebrow at that but otherwise did not react. "So? To what do I owe the pleasure?" He inquired, unable to conceal his impatience.
Only silence answered him.
L's silhouette was half-lit by the moonlight and the tiny white desk lamp, making him look even more unearthly, almost ethereal.
"L?"
Silence.
An annoyed sigh escaped Ray's lips as he let himself slide from his chair and reached for L. He stood right in front of him, hands on his hips, brown eyes piercing down at him.
"I'm talking to you, L." He said coldly, not moving an inch. "You came here for a reason. So, I'm listening."
Suddenly, as if pulled out of his trance, L lowered his head, his hand naturally coming up to his lips to gnaw on his thumbnail.
"Do you really think I am inhuman?" He asked eventually, his voice low and mechanical.
R opened his mouth in surprise, but closed it soon after. He scratched his chin absentmindedly, eyebrows still furrowed. "No," he said after a long pause. "No, I don't think you are."
Ever so slowly, the unruly-haired head straightened and Ray found himself pinned by those two twinkling obsidians.
"That would be a problem if you thought otherwise..." L began in an odd uncertain voice, and seeing R's confused look, he continued, "for you are my first ever friend."
At that, Ray widened his eyes in shock.
Wait. What? What the hell is he—
"Aren't you?" He was pulled out of his troubled thoughts by L's soothing voice, and he was once again unsettled by the intensity of the two onyx eyes which kept him prisoner.
"Yes," he answered without thinking, still transfixed by L's hypnotising eyes. "Of course I am."
"That's good." L averted his gaze to the side wall and nodded to himself. He did not made a move to leave.
"Is that all you wanted to tell me?"
A short pause, and then L propped himself up on his feet.
"Actually, no. In fact, there is one thing I want to give you." He bent his head to the side as he dug his right hand in his pocket. He took out some kind of a small grey rectangular device and hold it to R. "I shall go abroad again anytime soon. I want you to have it while I am away."
Drowned in bewilderment, Ray blinked at him, then looked down at the grey metallic device that he took in his hands. "What is this?"
"A cellphone," L replied blankly. "If there is a problem, anything at all, or if, for some reason, you simply feel the need to... talk to me, do not hesitate." He grasped R's hands in his and caused the clamshell phone to flip open. "Call me." The phone screen went white and then turned into the menu screen. L pressed a key, and a list composed of one single entry appeared. "My phone number is already registered."
Ray's eyes remained locked on the phone screen for a short while before he could look up into L's bottomless eyes.
"But, why?"
L released his hand and took a step back. "I do not trust Watari, Roger or any student of this faculty to keep you safe." His hands found their rightful place in his jeans pockets and his dark gaze wandered to the window while he resumed speaking, as if talking to himself. "That would be a problem if Ray was hurt, for Ray is my first ever friend."
And at this very moment, Ray had to admit to being utterly defeated. When he looked at L, at his nonchalant stance, his absent gaze and his wrinkled clothes, he could not help but feel irresistibly attracted by this strange humanity, and drastically enticed by this grim inhumanity.
L was both a beautiful machine and an ugly human. A splendid man, and yet a disgusting robot. He was all at once.
Before he realized it, Ray had walked the three steps that separated him from this unreal being and he was now standing right before L.
"L—"
"Happy birthday, Ray." L cut him off, but his voice was never so caressing.
L's pale hand found a way to R's face and stroked his cheek gently, almost tenderly, and Ray was rendered speechless. The touch seemed to last forever, and not long enough at the same time. When Ray felt the fingers withdrawing, he did not think and enclosed L's hand in his to keep it in place — its rightful place.
"Thank you." He murmured.
It was like the two boys were frozen in time and place, and when L finally managed to remove his hand from R's grip, it was as if the charm had been broken. Ray's hand fell at his side, and he stared at L in silence, drinking in the darkness of his eyes, as if hoping to get intoxicated to death.
Even though their hands had parted, their eyes did not seem very keen on doing the same just yet, and so they stayed still, face to face, hazel eyes locked with black, mouths closed in awe.
Soon enough, Ray couldn't bear it anymore. He had to talk, he had to ask, he had to know. And so, he opened his lips...
But was interrupted by a forefinger which landed on his lips, sealing his mouth and his dying words. He looked up at L, eyebrows raised in silent question.
All he got was a deadpan, "Goodnight, Ray." And as soon as his name was pronounced, the tiny pressure on his lips disappeared, the black mesmerising eyes merged into the darkness of the room, and the white shape of the older pupil vanished into thin air.
Instead of answering or calling after the retreating detective, all Ray could do was let go of a shaky breath and close his eyes in defeat.
Damn you, L.
Author's Note:
I am so very sorry for the delayed update. I have been very busy with college, friends and so on, and I suffered a bit of a blank page syndrome too.
But guess what? I am back, as twisted and crazy as ever, at your service.
To make it up to you, I tried to post a chapter a bit longer than usual, I hope it will suffice for you to forgive me.
So here is chapter 8, I hope you enjoyed it.
N.B. At the end of the chapter, R is fifteen years old and L is twenty-one.
Yet another character has been introduced. Maybe you guessed whom it was (this one was not very difficult to find), and if you think you did, feel free to PM me.
Please leave a review and tell me what you think about this chapter or this story!
I will try to update in the next two weeks, I promise.
Bye bye, humans!
C.