Thank you for all your absolutely lovely reviews. :) Updates will be every Saturday, because some of you were wondering about that.
Much thanks to my beta, the absolutely wonderful chibi-hime123.
I don't own Death Note.
For the first time, Light was wondering whether Watari was working for L or L was working for Watari, because for the first time, L was showing indications of obedience to an entity other than his own brilliance and pigheadedness. First, L had agreed to go to a public—albeit very secure and faraway—hospital to get his head checked, and then he had given in to Watari's insistence that the handcuffs be removed during the CT scan, and now:
"Sir, if you could just—"
"No."
Watari interrupted the intercom conversation immediately. "Ryuzaki"—the code names were back to being firmly in place—"lie flat on your back right this instant."
There was a long pause. The CT scan technician opened his mouth, and Watari stretched out a hand over his chest, as if he might physically catapult himself through the glass if not stopped. The technician closed his mouth, and L slowly slid his feet down the table. His hands were pressed tightly to his sides, and Light could just see that they were shaking.
"Thank you," Watari said.
"It'll be done before you know it, Ryuzaki," Light chimed in, wanting to be encouraging because L seemed genuinely and unexpectedly distressed.
But not distressed enough, apparently, not to be his usual, vengeful self. "And then it'll be your turn, Asahi-kun," L snapped, to everyone's surprise.
"Me?" Light asked.
"Him?" the technician echoed.
"If I have to be subjected to enough radiation to increase my cancer risk by two point oh one one three percent, then so do you. It's only fair."
"You're making that up on the spot," accused Light, who had heard enough percentages to last him a lifetime.
"He's right actually, though I'm not so sure about the point such and such," the technician said, alienating both Light and L in one fell swoop.
"Two point oh one one three," L grumbled with certainty.
"We don't typically do unnecessary medical procedures," the technician continued, "even for the sake of, ah, fairness."
"Asahi-kun had a concussion earlier today," L said, his tone indicating that he was well aware of his newfound status as a tattletale. "He was hit under the chin by a blunt object—"
"You mean, your foot."
"—and he fell to the ground and vomited. Those are grounds for further medical examination."
"Ryuzaki," Watari jumped back in, "you are only delaying the inevitable. I examined Asahi-kun myself, and there was no sign that he was concussed. You, on the other hand, not only bled profusely, but had double vision, and your injury was not even to the back of your head. Be quiet and drop this right this instant."
There was a terrible pause, and then the technician volunteered, "Vomiting after a head injury actually is serious. My professional opinion would be to, ah, get the CT scan."
Watari sighed. Light was watching L's face for that telltale smirk, but he had closed his eyes and he looked more sober than victorious. Maybe he really was nervous about the danger of the radiation. "Looks like we'll be even after all, Ryuzaki."
"Then let's get this over with," L muttered. "Go ahead. I'm ready."
The CT scan was quick and painless. Right when L got out of the machine, Light was sent in and he was scanned as well. No contrast was needed. No one was expecting for there to be anything for the contrast to find. The handcuffs were reattached and they were sent back to wait for the doctor.
"There is a vending machine straight ahead and to the right," L announced in the hallway. "If you could just get me a—"
"No food or beverages until you're cleared," Watari said, more harshly than was strictly necessary. Light had been considering asking for a cup of black coffee, given that it was the middle of the night, but he now discontinued that train of thought entirely.
"They won't find anything," L pouted. "My vision is perfectly fine."
"It wasn't anywhere near perfectly fine less than an hour ago."
"Everything has cleared up now. But if my blood glucose levels drop any—"
"Fortunately, you don't need your deductive reasoning at the moment. Think of this as a much needed break from the case."
"This is the last way I would choose to spend a voluntary break."
"Perhaps you should have thought about that before you involved yourself in the circumstances that led to such an injury."
They had been smoothly bantering more than arguing, as if off of a time-tested script, but now L faltered. "I don't understand," he said, and it was an incredible admission coming from L, but the casual way he said it and the setting of the moment seemed to diffuse it until Light wasn't sure that it had come out of L's mouth in the first place.
"Then I won't press the point," Watari continued stiffly. "In addition, I will not review the tapes of your room for tonight unless you ask that I do."
L fell completely silent now, so confused that it was now worth serious contemplation. Light, who wasn't too keen on Watari or anyone else knowing about his nightmares, stayed silent and hoped that Watari would follow up on his promise to keep out of the security tapes this one time.
Watari's doctor friend, who had arranged for this visit to be kept under wraps, was waiting for them when they got back to the room, printed scans in hand.
"What service!" Watari chuckled when they walked in, showing himself capable of utter transformation within seconds. "I hope we're not causing you to abandon any more critically ill patients!"
The doctor friend only acknowledged this greeting by smiling tightly. He turned his attention to business at once. "Asahi-san, I hear that you took a CT scan as well to support Ryuzaki-san."
"That's right," Light said at the same time that L said, "And to check his concussion."
"Well, your scans show that you are in perfect health, Asahi-san. But I'm glad to know that Ryuzaki-san has support here today. Ryuzaki-san, I have some medical issues to discuss with you. Would you like to discuss these issues alone, or would you like to have your support in here with you?"
L's confusion from the hall deepened. There was something unnervingly pitiable about it all. "There is something wrong with my scans?"
"I'm very sorry, Ryuzaki-san, but, yes, there is."
There was a long pause, and then L shook his head, compressing his mouth with sudden emotion, and sighed. "And you are certain that they are my scans and not Asahi-san's?"
"I—" The doctor broke off and looked between the two scans, one in each hand. "I am assuming that the scan that was taken first was Asahi-san's scan. Is this incorrect?"
L was compressing his mouth so tightly as to be unable to reply.
"That is incorrect," Watari said with a hint of relief. "Asahi-san did the scan second."
The doctor looked between the two scans more quickly. "Oh. Oh." L closed his eyes. "I'm terribly sorry, but Asahi-san, you are the one with the medical issues to discuss."
"Me?" Light asked.
"Him," Watari said with confidence.
"We can discuss the concussion in front of them," Light said, a bit numbly. "They'll be helping me recover anyways."
"I'm afraid it's a bit more serious than a concussion," the doctor said. "All of you, please take a seat."
As he sat, L drew his legs up to his chest and linked his hands about them. The chain rattled slightly as it trembled. "A hematoma then?" Light guessed absently, sitting on the bed, most of his attention on L's precariously held expression. "An aneurysm? Will I need surgery?"
"At this point, surgery would do more harm than help."
"Oh, that's good. I guess we caught it early enough, thanks to Ryuzaki-san."
"I'm sorry, Asahi-san, but the reason I do not advise surgery is that things have progressed for so long that there is no longer anything we can do."
"I don't understand," Light said, and he heard himself speak as if standing in the hall again.
"We would like to do more scans before providing an official diagnosis and decision on treatment, but at this point it appears that you have a glioblastoma multiforme in your temporal and frontal lobes. This means that there is a malignant tumor taking up a large portion of your brain."
The chain clinked louder and louder, and the sound of Light's own laughter grew louder and louder, but Light remained perfectly silent.
The doctor had tried to continue their conversation, but the laughter was so loud that he couldn't get a word in edgewise, so eventually he had just left. Then Watari had tried to do something with his words, but apparently these words had started a fight between him and L, and apparently this fight was strong enough to result in Watari leaving the room too.
The moment the door closed, L dropped to his feet and smoothly delivered a spinning kick to Light's side.
"Oof," Light grunted as he fell off the other side of the bed, the chain pulling taut over the mattress. He scrambled to his feet, felt the deep soreness in his ribs, balled his fists, and launched himself at L.
They scuffled low to the ground, Light throwing his fists and trying to pin L down, L slipping away and knocking Light's feet out from under him. Eventually, every time Light tried to pull himself into an even remotely upright position, L kicked the balance out of him, leaving him flat on the floor once again. Finally, there came a point when Light landed on his back and stayed there, staring at the ceiling and listening to the sound of his heavy breathing.
The laughter had stopped.
"You were worried about a two point oh one one three percent increase in your chance of getting cancer, and here I am with a tumor the size of a small rodent in my skull."
"I wasn't worried about cancer."
"Then why did you memorize the amount a CT scan increases your chance of getting cancer?"
L was silent, and Light groaned and closed his eyes. Dark bursts of color shifted across his eyelids.
"You were looking it up for me."
The chain clinked.
"You knew something was wrong with me." A moment passed, and then he sighed. "There wasn't anything wrong with your vision. You just wanted to get me in a hospital."
"I'm sorry, Light."
Light laughed, just once, more a sharp, dry breath than anything else. "Not apologizing though," he said before L could say it himself. "Just expressing your condolences."
Carefully, L said, "No. I am apologizing."
Light's eyes flashed open.
"I have been monitoring you on some level for the past eight months. That tumor has been developing for years. It should not have taken me this long to determine that something was wrong."
"Don't you dare say that you should have known something was wrong, because I didn't suspect a single thing, so if you say that, then you'll be implying that you're a hell of a lot smarter than I am."
There was a smile in L's voice when he said, "Well…"
Light ignored this, changing the subject. "Treatment is bound to be expensive. I wouldn't usually ask this, but you have a lot more money than I do, and I don't want to drag my family down with me. Do you have enough to support the investigation as well as to help me finance whatever they want to radiate me with?"
L was silent for so long that Light wondered whether he had miscalculated in asking, but then L said, "Light-kun, I do not think we should continue the investigation."
Light groaned and pulled himself into a seated position so he could figure out from L's expression what kind of trick he was pulling now. "Look me in the eyes and say that again."
Slowly, with his eyes dark and deep and steady, L repeated, "Light-kun, I do not think we should continue the investigation."
"Is this because of the tumor? Because you know as well as I do that my intelligence hasn't been impacted by the tumor, not yet at least. And you also know that I'll work just as hard, regardless of what kind of treatment they have in store for me."
"That isn't it. I have no doubt that you would be an invaluable part of the team."
"Then is it because I might be dying? Because catching Kira is definitely on my bucket list."
"That isn't it. I have no doubt that your sense of justice is perfectly intact."
"Then what? Do you want to continue the investigation without me? Do you think that I'm Kira and I'm sabotaging things?"
"I know that you, Yagami Light, were Kira. But if you do not know the same, considering the circumstances, perhaps it is better for this to remain a mystery to the rest of the world."
Light frowned, and L tensed, as if expecting him to start another fight. "You're not seriously suggesting that my brain cancerincreases the likelihood that I'm Kira."
L held his gaze and did not answer.
"What's the percentage now?" Light demanded. "I know you've recalculated. Tell me what it is. You've never had any qualms about telling me before."
L shrugged, too fluidly. "I need more information about the exact location of your tumor to be sure."
"Then give me your best estimation."
L hesitated for a long while, and then admitted, "Low sixties."
"Low sixties?!"
"No higher than low seventies. No higher than seventy-five, certainly."
"One CT scan and your percentage triples?"
"My theory assumed that you had experienced memory loss, but it could not explain how the memory loss had occurred. Now there is a quite likely explanation."
Light shook his head, furious. "L, this isn't a game. If you told anyone that you were seventy-five percent sure I was Kira, it would be as good as a death sentence!"
"I know very well that this is not a game, and I think there are more pressing concerns right now when it comes to death sentences."
Light flinched. "I'm not going to die that quickly from this tumor. He said they couldn't do surgery, but he didn't say anything about radiation or chemotherapy."
"I don't think you understand the risks of this kind of treatment, Light."
"Do you really think I would rather die than lose my hair?"
"It isn't the physical risks that I'm concerned about, but the neurological."
"If I don't have any treatment, I'm going to have a shitload of neurological risks."
That shut L up.
"We're going to continue the investigation," Light said, "and we're going to continue it whether we do it in your giant tower or in the hospital or in a hole in the ground, and we're going to continue it until we find Kira or drop dead."
L sighed and closed his eyes. "And you want to do this even if the investigation ends in determining that you are Kira?"
"I told you, forgetting is even worse. If I've forgotten about being a mass murderer, I want to remember."
"If you can't ever remember? If those memories are gone for good?"
"Then I suppose it's a good thing I won't have much time left to dwell on it."
More scans showed that the doctor's initial impressions had been correct. It was a grade four astrocytoma, also called a glioblastoma multiforme. They abbreviated this as GBM, because it sounded less frightening than the full name.
The doctor had changed his opinion on surgery when he returned, most likely because Watari had told him to, if the way he kept glancing nervously over at Watari while talking to Light was any indication. Surgery was an important first step, he now said. They would do radiation or chemotherapy or both after the surgery. Light just wanted him to leave so that he and L could research this on their own. He didn't trust anyone who could be so easily convinced to do a one-eighty. They returned to the taskforce building by the time the streetlights were already starting to go out. Watari informed the taskforce that Light's sick day had been extended at least another twenty-four hours, and L and Light spent the rest of the day researching in the bedroom.
"Historical median survival time," Light read bitterly, "eleven point two months. Historical one-year survival: forty-six percent. Historical three-year survival: seven percent. Historical five-year survival: four percent." He closed his eyes, the numbers washing over him. "There's a higher chance that I'm Kira than that I'll live longer than a year."
"Age of under fifty is linked to longer survival in glioblastoma multiforme," L read, as fit his unofficial job of finding the encouraging statistics, "as is ninety-eight percent resection—"
"We already know that surgery is a bad idea if I don't want to end up a vegetable."
"—use of temozolomide chemotherapy—"
"Temozolomide works best as a follow-up to radiation, which we don't have time for."
"—and better Karnofsky performance scores."
"My score can't be that good if you noticed something was wrong."
"Your score would have been one hundred had I not noticed something was wrong because there would have been nothing to notice in the first place."
"Well, it definitely won't be one hundred when I start having seizures."
"We don't know that that will happen."
"It definitely will if I start temozolomide."
"Stop," L snapped. He shut both of their laptop screens and glared. "This is going nowhere. Will you or will you not try surgery?"
"I will not," Light said, folding his arms across his chest. "If I only have eleven months and six days left to live, I'm not going to waste three of those months on recovering from a surgery that might leave me unable to work on the Kira case at all. Remember the story we read in the forums about the journalist? Or the teacher?"
"It could take you as little as one month to recover, and it could double your life expectancy, especially if temozolomide is—"
"So we're back to the temozolomide again!"
"Stop!" L shouted, grabbing at Light's elbow, grip unexpectedly hard. "Don't you want to at least try to live longer than a year? Because you won't if you decide not to get the surgery. Do you understand how incredibly much longer three years is than one year?"
"It won't take us three years to solve the Kira case. One year is all I need."
"What are you saying? That solving the Kira case is the only thing you have left to do with your life?"
"Yes, that's what I'm saying."
L drew his hand away and compressed his mouth.
"I don't have enough time to graduate university, and I definitely don't have enough time to even think about joining the NPA. What else is there?"
"You must have goals other than those related to your occupation."
"Do you?"
"That's an unfair comparison."
"Why?"
L hesitated and then admitted, "Watari is the closest thing I have to a father. This is my life. I have known nothing else. But, Light-kun, you have friends and family and admirers. What about something as simple as falling in love?"
It sounded ridiculous coming out of L's mouth. Light was half-convinced it was some kind of sick joke, especially after L had divulged a tantalizing hint of information about his secret childhood. "You mean, Misa?" he asked dryly, in case it really was a joke.
But apparently it was not, because L said quite seriously, "I mean, anyone."
Light laughed and shook his head, breaking eye contact. "Everyone is like Misa to me."
"You've never fallen in love?"
Tight-lipped, Light shook his head again.
"Impossible. I know you've had girlfriends at least. You've gone out on dates."
"That's different."
"How?"
"Those girls all asked me out. I haven't asked a girl out since—well, there was Takada, and I asked Yuri to go to Spaceland with me last December, but I didn't really like them."
L flinched. "Spaceland?"
"Yeah."
"There was a hijacking on a Spaceland bus in December."
"There was? Hm. Oh. Oh." Light frowned deeply, leaning back in the pillows. "I don't— I can't believe I forgot about this. I—I was on the Spaceland bus during the hijacking."
They stared at each other in stunned silence, and then L closed his eyes and sighed. "Light, I don't think—"
"How could I have just forgotten being on a bus during a hijacking?!" Light interrupted, reeling. "It must have been terrifying! But I don't remember that at all. I remember being very calm. Maybe I was in shock? How did I just forget? Why wouldn't I have mentioned anything to you?"
L was gracious enough not to say anything.
"Could I have forgotten more than just being Kira?" Light demanded. "Do you think I forgot everything traumatic that happened to me? No. I remember the confinement, so…"
L flinched at the reminder that the confinement had been comparable to being Kira.
"I remember my father pretending to shoot me," Light listed. "I remember breaking my leg when I was eight. I remember being in a car accident when I was thirteen. I remember falling asleep during a final exam when I was fourteen."
L's mouth twitched upwards and he opened his eyes. "I am fairly certain that does not count as a trauma."
"It does," Light said quite seriously. "I took the test on Friday, and I was so upset that I couldn't sleep all weekend. When I went to talk to my teacher on Monday morning, I had been awake for almost sixty hours."
"What did your teacher say?"
"She let me retake the exam. My grade in the class was one hundred and two point seven percent."
L shook his head. "I know trauma, and that is not a trauma," he said, unexpectedly fiercely.
Light lifted a brow. "Oh, do you now?" he challenged. "If you're so knowledgeable, by all means, correct me."
L glared. "By all means. A trauma is when you single-handedly incriminate a young man of having committed eleven counts of first-degree murder, causing him to commit suicide rather than be put on death row, only to discover four months later that he was innocent. A trauma is when you discover that your mother has been murdered and that you are considered by the government to be legally dead. A trauma is when a dear acquaintance impersonates you, becomes a serial killer, attempts self-immolation, and two years later is killed by Kira. That is trauma. You are a child, Light-kun, and you have not known enough trauma to wonder whether you can or cannot remember it."
Light stiffened. "Well," he said, angry and embarrassed and most of all horrified, "here's to hoping that this next year will contain enough trauma for me to die as an adult rather than a child."
L now looked genuinely furious. "Am I to understand then that you will refuse surgery?"
"Yes. And right now I am refusing both chemotherapy and radiation."
"Yagami Light—"
"I will take medication for nausea and swelling so long as there are no side effects, and I will take medication for seizures if that becomes an issue, but I will not live out the final days of my life in a hospital or tied to one."
"I won't let you just give up—"
"Don't you see that's what I'm doing?!" Light shouted. "I'm not going to let them fuck up what's left of my brain! And I'm not going to get so close to solving this fucking case and then have it torn out of my hands! Don't you see that's the only thing that matters to me?"
"Your brain or the case?" L demanded.
"Well— Both!" Light sputtered. "They're the same thing! If I can't solve this case, the past eighteen years of tests and school and games will have been for nothing!"
"How dare you say that," L snapped. "Regardless of the outcome of this case, you will always be unspeakably brilliant."
It was high and thoroughly unexpected flattery. Suspicious, Light demanded, "Even if Kira outsmarts the both of us?"
"Especially."
The implications of that took a moment to sink in, and then Light frowned. "Not this again. Not now."
"Listen to me. Kira is brilliant, though wrong. You too are brilliant, and less frequently wrong."
"Hey!"
"But if you were to be not only yourself but Kira as well… Why, your brilliance would be something I have never seen before."
"Don't expect to flatter your way out of this one. Calling me the smartest person in the world doesn't make up for calling me a mass murderer."
Hesitant, but apparently unable to stop himself, L hedged, "I never called you the smartest person in the world."
"What? Oh." Light scowled. "So, you're the most brilliant, but I'm a close second."
"I would say we are at an impasse."
"Hm."
"Don't act so displeased, Light. Have you ever met anyone with whom you could genuinely argue about whose intelligence was superior?"
Light sighed. "So, you're saying you want me to be Kira so that we can be equals."
"Yes."
"And if we weren't equals, it would disappoint you enough that you would rather I be a horrifying criminal."
"Think of how many times everyone else has disappointed you, Light. Could you bear it if I did as well?"
The way L spoke, it was like they were the only two real people left in the world. And maybe it was because of the confinement and the handcuffs and now the cancer, but Light was starting to feel the same way too. "No," he admitted. "No, I couldn't."
L's eyes widened. He had apparently not been expecting such a definite response. "Hm."
"I'm not Kira," Light reminded, "but I suppose I wish for your sake that I was."
"And that, Light, is where we will always disagree. You are Kira, but I wish for your sake that you weren't."