Does L know what is happening now? Does L know?
Did L know what was happening through the wires and in his work? Did he know about it all, the trials and the burning building where Takada's flesh melted? Did he think of his remnants and how they must progress, did he know how they chased and chased and their investigations proceeded?
Oh god now, oh god where are you now? What am I now? Where am I now. I would have taken a bite, to wrap my lips around, and oh god now; Light's thoughts are a sliding knife through the recesses of his brain. They call into those parts that shudder and he can feel his smooth face over-run with something like tears.
L was no god of death, L was just a victim. His victim. Not a pet which Light could play and subdue, no empty shimmering remembrance either. That shuddering whisper in the night, that answer to his soul, an answer or an assailant.
My sweet counterpart, my enemy, my destiny, he feels laughter echo in his throat and his eyes are impaired under the descending sun.
That man of calculation and genius, now of such a different form, of what manner of thoughts and emotion? What form of composition? Does he know?
Light's thoughts are so frightened though, his mind pure and desperate. He has so much to think about, so many questions and he cannot bear to confront them. He will laugh and he will cry and he will beg and he will feel the shame shake his bones.
He will feel dirty and desperate but he will run from this place, from these thoughts. His nails scratch the stone and he feels such fear that he can scarce express.
And it is hurting now and Light does not know. He does not know so much. He is a jaded man and he is weak, he is a child.
He will crumble.
He will lie here in the shadow of the sun, how it dazzles his eyes. His lips rest parted and his soul begs.
The light is blinding and the shadows cover him. He does not know now. He does not know anything much anymore.
But he will see the shape, so fragile before him.
He will listen to the sound of his own breathing as it is so steady and slowing.
It reaches for him carefully.
How it has stalked him, how it has waited. It has been desperate and deviant but now it is gentle because now he is here before him and he is bloody and vulnerable like a small rabbit caught by the dogs with the deep tooth-marks in its chest. L can watch Light's chest rise and fall and see the blood upon his shirt and he feels a tender peace deep within him.
He knows that ache that consumes him and that he loves this being with more than love, something stronger and altogether more complex. Every part of him waits with sweetness and when the last breath is drawn he can reach out and take what he has being longing for.
And there will be no flesh and there will be no fear and there will be no hate. There will only be the moment when they wind around one another and their minds touch and mingle. Then they will be together and there will be only a body upon these steps, abandoned while they are gone.
He shall embrace him once more, one last time, to enfold him into himself for all eternity.
While the sun sets on this dead world.