Disclaimer: Death Note and any recognisable characters do not belong to me.
A/N: To Ai Priestess, who requested a chapter on L and thus made me rack my brains for a half-decent idea. :D Perhaps it's not quite what you expected; but hopefully, enjoy:)
The next chapter will be the last, I hope you've enjoyed reading this as much as I had writing it. :)
XI. Eternal
When men destroy their old gods they will find new ones to take their place.
- Pearl S. Buck
There was a child before the man, a little boy who stared at the world with wide inquisitive eyes before growing up into a man who analysed and dissected the world with a look. Because people have a beginning and an end; they do not simply appear.
L Lawliet. A strange name for a strange boy with a cold intellect and a insatiable craving for sugar. He was a genius, the best Wammy's house had ever known and perhaps, ever would know. He did have a history, a life before he became one of them, children whom destiny and Quillish Wammy had connived to raise in that orphanage which cultivated prodigies, but that was lost the instant he discarded his name.
L. In the transition from child to man, L Lawliet – that orphaned child, an emotionless little creature who devoured knowledge voraciously and who never really learnt how to play – ceased to exist, and there was only L. Sometimes there was Enrico, Hamish, Paul, Dimitri, Sum and yes, even Ryuuzaki, but these were only names, as meaningless as Lawliet, to be discarded when no longer useful.
There was L, only L.
But people have an end, and so, it wasn't L who died when a shinigami scrawled his name on the Death Note. It was L Lawliet - L Lawliet, a child who never grew up and a man who never was a child- whom once a mother had cradled in her arms and loved and left, whom Quillish Wammy had taken to his orphanage, whom Yagami Light had respected and whom Kira had defeated, who now lay dead on the ground.
L's next successor lies on the floor near Roger's desk languidly filling in a crossword puzzle. 'Roger?' he asks, lifting his head slightly, addressing the old man who's reading a sheaf of papers, 'Who was the first L?'
A wide-eyed boy with a shock of black hair, spidery fingers and a long, gangly body perpetually crouched over his books or computer or a cup of tea overflowing with sugar.
Roger looks at him in silence for a moment before answering. 'There was no first L,' he replies slowly. The boy frowns, and opens his mouth to protest, but the man forestalls him. 'L is an entity, not a human being,' he explains, because it's his duty to answer such a question. 'Once you become L, you have no past, no future. When you die, L still lives. There is no first or second L. L, simply is.'
'L,' he says out loud, playing with a jellybean, trying it out. L. The skinny boy, with skin of an unhealthy hue and bags under his eyes, nods at Wammy and Roger. 'My own name can be my alias.'
A pair of eyes look at him shrewdly and he winces internally at the cold, calculating look. 'Like god,' the boy says quietly, 'only one which has to be replaced constantly,' and stands up and leaves before Roger can reply. And it's just as well, because what can he say? That maybe the project he and Quillish had embarked upon, the desire to create the world's best detective was madness in itself, that what they had done was to force these children to forego their right to choose a normal life, imbuing them with the desire to be L so early on, that even with their genius, they couldn't see the trap closing in on them.
Roger sighs. There is no time for regret. Sacrifices have to be made for the greater good, even if it involves the sacrifice of a child's life and happiness.
He still remembers the child that was L Lawliet, but that boy isn't L. That unhappy little boy died long ago, as soon as he solved his first case, and now survives only in the memory of an old man; the only one to remember him as he was before his second identity consumed him. And that is as it should be, because to others, L can't afford to be human.
L simply is – strong, undefeated and indestructible and if that meant the loss of identity of these children, so be it.
-----L is dead. Long live L.-----
That's far longer than I thought it would be... Ah well. It might not make much sense, but nothing about Death Note really is clear at first reading. And L is complex. Terribly complex. And excuse any horrific typos and mixed up tenses, I'm terribly tired. Feel free to point them out. :)
Thank you to those who left comments, you made my day :) I apologise for the whole line-breaks, but there has to be separation between the paragraphs for it to make sense, and is refusing to let me use lines/asterixes/slashes.