Notes: Loosely based on/inspired by the lovely DN doujinshi 'Trivial Matter', by the circle Kokuyo. :)

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If I could have one thing happen, once more...

No matter how it appeared, it had been neither impulsive, nor loving, nor sincere.

"What's.. this?"

It's a lie, it's an act, it's a carefully thought out manipulation.

"It's a kiss, Ryuuzaki..."

It had been almost too easy.

"I know... but why?"

Because you're weak, because you're vulnerable, because I know how to get to you.

"Because I wanted... to see your reaction."

And so that first time, Light had kissed him softly, questioningly; masquerading as someone who cared. He'd acknowledged the acceptance he found in those large, dark eyes, and slipped a hand underneath L's shirt. That first time, it had been subdued; the warm press of bodies between the sheets, Light in control, always in control, pressing him down and drawing out gasps. It had not been dark, and it had not been romantic.

Light had not known then that it would also be the last.

Afterwards, Light found that it was not so easy to forget; while asleep, while working, even while with Misa - it was images of L that plagued him. Flushed, yearning, wanting... such aspects of L that Light had never imagined.

So he is human, after all. Dirty and reliant and needy, just like the rest of them.

But still, the images lingered.

In some ways, Light thought, L was really quite twisted. He knew instinctively that Light was Kira, and yet openly declared him his first friend. Of course, it was clear that L was far from normal - but his so-called superior intellect was evidently over exaggerated.

Emotions? Attachments? It had not taken Light long to deduce that these were L's weaknesses. It was, after all, his desire to be able to call Light his friend which hindered his abilities and bought Light some more time.

And now, it would be his desire for affirmation of more from Light which would be his final downfall.

Let me feel your existence...

Light had not intended for this to happen. Had not intended to be the one, merely two days later, stumbling through the darkness in search of that warmth, that connection.

There's this person I...

... but, I desire to kill him.

He felt ill, disgusted with himself, and after a wretched pause returned to his own room. He was still awake to watch the sun rise in a fiery, damning blaze.

Light's hatred grew. That wide-eyed, dark-rimmed stare seemed to latch onto him wonderingly; so of course he forced himself to smile, softening his features and slipping on the familiar mask. Trying so hard to ignore the unwanted flashes of half-lidded satisfied eyes, of quickened panting and flushed cheeks, of soft black hair and scrawny fingers digging desperately into his back. He would try, and he would fail, and so he'd nurture his loathing, reassuring himself that soon, L would be gone.

Soon, he would no longer have to feel this way; no longer have to feel at all.

Sometimes, he would catch L watching him in that shrewd, thoughtful way he had; chewing absently on his thumb, knees tucked up and toes curling over the edge of the chair. It was disconcerting, and Light had never quite got used to it. Recently, though, it had started to feel almost foreboding.

It was impossible that he knew.

And so, Light would put on that teasing smile, and distract L from his calculating thoughts in the most effective way he knew of. L never objected.

Then one day, it came: those wide-eyes, that almost emotionless voice tinged with curiosity, and an honest, almost speculative question.

"I'm envious. Who... do you like best?"

I will never love anyone.

"Didn't I choose you? Ryuuzaki."

I will never love you.

"Yagami-kun..."

The lies came so easily, even to the end. The light was cold and artificial, and made L look strangely vulnerable, hunched up as he was. Light pulled L to him, smirking into his hair. The embrace was short and lacked conviction.

Light pulled away, and froze as their eyes met

And he knew.

Later, he would remember the single, stolen night; remember waking up, still lost in a dream - only to find that when he turned over, he could see that it hadn't been a dream at all. For Light, it had been meaningless. For Light, it had been a means to an end, and stood as a powerful testament to his powers of manipulation.

In retrospect... was it possible for such things to take on meaning after the fact?

Light, naturally, quashed any hints of such emotions, smothering them with his hatred and desire to carry out his plan. L was an obstacle; L had to be eliminated. Anything else was incidental.

He knew that L's emotions; L's attachments to him had impaired his ability to examine Light in a totally detached manner. He knew that this would be his downfall, and had been the one to hold him, while watching L's eyes close for good. But he also saw the faint resignation in that dying gaze, and knew then that L had always known, but...

And that, he thought triumphantly, in a split-second of pure gloating, is why it had been inevitable that L would lose.

The room was empty and silent. He had never been invited to the funeral, if there even had been one.

It was his time to rule, now; his time to take pride in his victory. Misa clung to his arm, and he frowned. But Light felt strangely detached, as though something was missing. Every night for a month he dreamed of L, but told himself that it meant nothing.

L was dead and gone, just as Light believed his own emotions to be.

But then, when he couldn't help but remember, there would be a flicker... and...

If I could have one thing happen, once more…
I...