The door creaked open unusually loud when L walked into his cell. Raito kept his eyes on the floor so the first thing he saw was the wheels of the chair rolling on in slow revolution, L's pale feet confined to each foot-pedal, and the threadbare ends of his jeans.
As L bent over, his knees were next to come into view. One white-knuckled hand was bracing against the concrete floor as he leaned forward even more, the lower portion of L's face now in his line of sight, and close as they were, everything above his nose was excluded.
L's mouth was a severe line, stiff and pulled back, and unlike how he typically arranged them, pursing his lips together to rest his thumb calmly on the shelf they created, this one successfully exuded grim intentions.
Raito felt L run something through his hair, the motion startling him out of his daze, but not moving him to react as violently as he should have; the bandaged gashes on his back throbbing hotly in reminder. But the pain was set aside as Raito found that another shadow had suddenly fallen over him, this one much larger than L's, abysmally black, and red-eyed!
"Hey buddy," the god of death greeted; fanged mouth wide-open in a grin that was practically covering his entire face. "You don't look so good."
Raito's eyes flew wide open. He immediately pushed himself up from the floor, trying to get a better look at the dark figure looming over him.
"Ryuuk…!"
"I missed you too," the shinigami cackled.
Raito glanced over at L before warily fixing his eyes back on the death god. "What is this?" he asked suddenly, suspiciously, the question clearly not directed towards Ryuuk but addressing him, and instead aimed at the detective.
"He wished to see you, and I have no say in what goes on between a shinigami and the human he first possesses. Therefore, attempting to separate you two would do me no good."
"Your boyfriend's smart," Ryuuk said, chuckling, and Raito glanced over at shinigami acidly, the strength of his glare, despite months of captivity, having not diminished one bit. "You don't have to get mad at me," the god of death reasoned, putting his hands up as if to defend himself. He forgot how scary Raito was when he got pissed.
Thankfully, that callous stare did not continue to bore into his head, and Raito turned its harshness on the detective. "You know damn well what I mean," he spat out. "What the hell is this? You come down here with Ryuuk like it's the most natural thing in the world. You have to realize that he not on your side – he's not on anyone's side…"
"He's right too," Ryuuk agreed. "Taking sides would get me killed – plus, it wouldn't be half as much fun as what's been planned." The shinigami's face split into one of those eerie grins. "Tell him already, I want to see how he gets himself out of this one."
Tell him what…? Raito thought.
He felt a chill run down his spine at the sight of L and Ryuuk, side-by-side, both staring at him intensely. To see his arch-nemesis and the only thing that he had ever truly confided in, to see them standing side-by-side, actually aware of each other and solely focused on him…it was wrong. They were never supposed to meet each other. This was never supposed to happen.
The sound of metal wheels scraping against the floor made him glance up to see L coming even closer, his eyes assessing him coldly as he halted in front of him. There was a lengthy pause, a few loud heartbeats in between the waiting before L said:
"I want you to make the trade with Ryuuk."
Raito stared up at the detective and thought he hadn't heard him right.
"I do not want to have to repeat myself," L enunciated, "make the deal with Ryuuk for the shinigami eyes. It is the only way to keep you alive for now, so make the deal."
Raito continued to stare at L. Stunned, uncertain, angry… "Are you out of your mind?!" he suddenly shouted. "To even ask –"
L raised his hand to cut him off. "This is not up to you -- either you give Ryuuk half your current lifespan or he takes the entire thing from you. Die today by your shinigami or die a few days from now by lethal injection – those are the only choices left to you."
Raito's eyes widened; brown irises going wild in their paper-white sockets. He turned towards the death god furiously. "You bastard, you're on his side. Why are you taking his side? I can't believe you're betraying me for a few measly apples!"
"It was more like a crate," Ryuuk corrected, shrugging noncommittally. "Sorry buddy, but this got nothing to do with your friend over there. You're the one that actually gave me the permission to write your name down in my notebook when things started to turn south, so if you got to blame someone, blame yourself."
"I would – I would never!" Raito stressed. "I've never given you the permission to do something so stupid, so utterly ridiculous! I thought you'd be on my side. I trusted you to –" Raito felt his voice giving out, "I trusted you!"
L said nothing, simply looking on.
"Yeah, but you still used my notebook. Smart guy like you should know what that means. In return for lending you my deathnote you have to give me something too, but shinigami only really want one thing from humans." Those blood-red eyes began glowing menacingly, and horror that was partly suppressed began to creep into Raito's visage.
"I've come to take life, so give me some," Ryuuk cackled, putting his hand forth as if he were begging for apples. By the look on his face, it was practically the same thing to him. "C'mon buddy, I've always wanted to make the trade with you, but you've always been so stuck-up about it."
Raito had both fists planted into the ground. "No…" His knuckles were turning white under the pressure of his body as it braced him up from the floor. "I won't. I won't make the deal with you…with anyone…"
Ryuuk's shoulders sagged, gangly arms nearly touching the ground. He turned to look at L. "It's not interesting if he won't play along. I guess this is where my fun ends," he sighed, beginning to take out his notebook, big eyes glued to the pages, and missing the expression of wild horror on Raito's face.
"Raito," L said warningly, as he noticed that expressive fear, "He will kill you without a second thought if you do not appease him."
"Don't!" Raito shouted towards Ryuuk, his entire focus now on the notebook. It didn't seem like he could even hear L anymore. "Don't do this. Just give me time – you don't want to go back to the shinigami realm, right? It's boring. Neither of us wants to be bored. Please get me out of here, Ryuuk."
L felt that cold fury that only Raito knew how to incite within him.
"Can't do that without payment," Ryuuk drawled. He casually took his pen out of its hiding place.
"Yes, you can. You can do anything!" Raito's nails were leaving scratch marks on the floor. Deep down inside, he knew -- Raito knew he could beg, and plead, and scream, and pray to this god of death, but like any other god he would turn deaf ears to him. He would abandon him.
"Don't," Raito said feebly, harshly, voice grating more than it wanted to.
He turned to L on the verge of cursing his existence and falling down in front of him.
It was like giving up on everything he believed in, in everything he had ever fought for. If he made the trade, it would be as good as accepting that L had won, that he was resigned to his sentence.
"I won't make the trade, I can't make it!"
"Then he kills you." L was staring down at him blankly; those dark eyes empty, bleak like winter and harsher. "Hurry up and make a decision."
"No!" Raito shouted in a burst of fury that fizzled out past the first word. "It's half my life. Half my life," he pleaded.
"Exactly," L said. "I want your death on my terms, and no one, not even a shinigami will take that away from me. However, if you would rather die now than later, then there is nothing I can do for you."
"No…" Raito sobbed. He grasped onto the leg of L's jeans, turning his face up, desperation and a survival instinct that was half-madness, half-logic, clouding the amber slits in his eyes. His other hand suddenly reached up and he grabbed L by the front of his shirt, halting the breath mid-way through the detective's lungs.
"Do. Something" he ground out dangerously, elegant fingers twisted in the neckline of L's white t-shirt. "I'll do anything; just don't make me do the eye-trade, don't let him kill me…"
Ryuuk cackled at the absolutely tormented expression on the boy's face. "This ain't like you at all, buddy."
L stared calmly into those frantic eyes. "I cannot help you," he stated. "Out of all those you have killed, if just one of them had come to you and begged for life, would you have spared them? I doubt it."
He tried to pry his fingers from his person, a great need for space calling out to him. "I see this as the only way to successfully punish someone who cannot feel regret, who cannot feel sympathy for anyone but himself. I have taken away your freedom, I have let your body and pride be attacked, but as important as they are, I see they are not what is most precious to you."
"The only way to convey the severity of your crimes -- all the atrocities you have committed on humanity, for pride, for boredom, for love of yourself – is to force you to face the one thing you have shouldered onto others; the one thing you have been running from. You value your life above everything else; therefore I will cut it down in front of you and show you just how much of a human you are."
"Goddammit L," Raito cursed, tightening his fingers in his shirt. He grabbed him by the other hand. "I don't give a fuck about your reasons -- just get me the hell out of this!"
L set his jaw, grabbing onto his wrist. "Still so selfish…it is hard to believe that the world does not actually revolve around you when you speak with such intensity."
"Please," Raito said, "I'm begging you now." That grip tightened and L felt the tremors raking through him.
"No, I cannot help you. I will not help you. Make your choice."
Raito grew furious, one of his hands suddenly moving on its own and slapping L across the face. "You son of a bitch, I should have shot you in head when I had the chance."
"Ohhohoho," Ryuuk chuckled. Despite the high emotions, he seemed to be having a blast.
L slapped him right back. "And I should have killed you the moment I laid eyes on you. Now hurry and make your choice or your shinigami will write your name down."
Ryuuk seemed to have forgotten all about the notebook in his hands, as he watched the two leading men of this collapsing drama that had been built up to unquestionable height through their sheer determination to thwart the other.
It was almost too much. To have been here to witness the whole gamut of emotions that had led up to this exact moment: all the pretentiousness, the lying, the hate, the pride. These petty, petty feelings that seemed only exclusive to the human species; each struggling over their principles and their abstract concepts that in the end really had no definite answers, nor ever would.
But Ryuuk supposed this was what humans were good for: Putting on a great show.
And these two here in front of him, they were the quintessential actors, representing humanity through their small-scale war. To live, one had to triumph over the other -- and Ryuuk laughed at how out of hand everything had gotten for Raito and his detective friend.
Humans, what a riot.
Letting go of L spitefully, Raito drew back as if he were a snake that had lost the power to successfully bite.
It was obvious, painfully obvious what his choice would have to be. The decision had already been made for him. He couldn't let Ryuuk write his name down in his deathnote. He had to stay alive -- hopelessly as was case, because time was always going to be his most valued asset.
"I…" Raito took a sobbing breath, seeming to choke on his words.
Ryuuk was poised like a vulture ready to swoop down, anticipation actually creeping into his dusty body.
"I…make the trade…" he finally uttered, the words echoing through the room.
Stretching a clawed-hand towards him, Raito's eyes immediately flew open, crimson encircling the pupils as a gasp fell from his parted lips. His vision now tinged a haze of red.
Raito wiped at his eyes as if it was a simple matter of getting the blood out of them. He could feel everything magnified, even when he closed them. There was a powerful pull at the back of his sockets that wanted to keep them open, trained, alert…
He could hear Ryuuk laughing, cackling on like a crow.
Panic was making his eyes blurrier, eyesight fumbling around the room until it finally descended upon L and the name that had eluded him until now.
"You're name is…L Lawliet?"
"Um…you actually pronounce it 'lowlight'," the detective corrected, somewhat awkwardly.
Raito stared at the L, really looked at him. "You pronounce it…what?"
The cackling laughter of Ryuuk only grew louder.
"The pronunciation is 'low-light' not 'law-li-et.'"
"Low-light?" Raito said, numbly.
The irony made him want to cry. It actually made him want to sit there, put his head in his hands, and sob in frustration. It was one thing to know that his enemy had tricked him so completely that he believed 'L' was a false name. But it was another thing entirely when part of his last name had been practically staring him in the face. L's fondness for calling him 'Raito-kun' every chance he got. It was like – it was like…he'd been mocking him this entire time…
Raito felt sick. "How could that be…?"
"I thought it was funny too," Ryuuk interrupted. "I wanted to tell you so you could be in on the joke too, but it was way more hilarious watching you try to figure it out. Heh, but that's not even the funniest thing about all of this," the god chuckled. "I'm surprised you didn't notice yet. His lifespan, I mean…"
Lifespan…?
Obviously, Raito had immediately noticed that L's lifespan was not there. But it was clear why that was since he was currently the owner of Misa's retrieved deathnote. Ryuuk knew he would come to that conclusion, so then why in the world would he ask him about…
Raito froze. "…why can't I see your lifespan?" He suddenly needed to hear the answer from L, even if it was becoming clear. "Why can't I see your lifespan?" Raito demanded.
"The same reason I cannot see yours," L said quietly.
Raito's eyes widened. "What did you do…?"
"I suppose something similar to what Faust did with Mephistopheles." It was for a second, but Raito could see his eyes flash red. He stared in shock as those large, liquid black pupils lit up, glowing blood red in the darkness.
"You did not think your life would be enough to compensate him, did you?" L asked, scarlet eyes staring back at him. "He wants the full years of one human being; by agreeing to the trade you only make up half of his requirement…therefore I offered the other half as payment, collateral if you will, to insure that I, by contract, own the rest of your current life."
"You…" Raito felt his stomach seize up.
"I have also given him permission to take the rest of my life when I am done with you, as further payment. However, your shinigami does not seem to care one bit about the life we are giving him. His only concern appears to be with the idea of further playing with us."
The laughter on the other side of the room was deafening. "I didn't think I'd ever get to make the trade with you, buddy, but I never even considered it for your friend there. Heh, I could probably go up to the shinigami realm and brag about collecting life from the two humans that played hostage with the world. You guys are famous up in the shinigami realm, you know…"
Raito could no longer hear the mocking replies coming from the god of death.
"I do not understand why you seem so shocked," L replied, noticing his state. "I have only done what I've always been doing ever since I started this investigation. What makes you think I would stop here? Indeed, throwing away one's life is foolish, but when there is a strong cause to back it up –"
"You're insane…" Raito breathed. He felt so disorientated. Knowing that he had halved his own life and that he could never get it back, however hard he tried, was too depressing a thought, but knowing that his enemy had halved his own life for reasons of wanting so badly to conclude this case on his own terms, to be the one to finally finish him off and win their battle -- that was even more depressing.
"I would give up much more to bring you to justice. That is just how strongly I feel about this case -- and about you." Turning his wheelchair towards the door and halting in front of it, L looked back at him.
"The next time we see each other I will be bringing news about your execution. My only request of you until that time is for you to truly contemplate on your life and your sins, and any last words you may have. I suggest you think long and hard about what you have to say, Raito."
………………………………..
He had quietly returned to his room alone.
Watari was waiting for him when he arrived, and as L passed him on his way to the desk, he requested something to eat, to which the older man brought shortly thereafter a silver tray of strawberry cheesecake and milk tea.
L stared at it; his lost appetite not returning despite trying to forcibly will it into existence. Massaging the bridge of his nose with his index and middle finger, L stared at his comfort food, but after another futile attempt at making himself hungry, he gave up, eyes beginning to roam around his desk.
He noticed within the blank screen of his laptop there was a reflection of himself, one that did not look too happy to see him, and trailing his fingers over the keyboard he made an effort to ignore everything, including the person standing next to him.
When Watari did not get the hint, L suddenly felt immensely annoyed, his fingers unconsciously pressing down harder on the keyboard.
"Can you leave me alone for awhile?" he said abruptly. He continued to focus on his laptop, maintaining the distance that his head was calling out for. The budding tension in the back of his neck was deepening with each passing second as he sat motionless in front of his laptop, staring at a reflection that was as blank as the monotone surface that had captured it.
Watari continued to stand by him after a few tense minutes, but inevitably his shoes began to clip towards the door, shutting it behind him with a semi-muted click.
And in the incoming silence, L could hear himself breathing rapidly, loudly, taking in even deeper breaths and letting those inhalations measure out time for him.
It so happened that the tray that should have been right in front of him was now on the floor along with his now upside down cheesecake and milk tea that was no longer in the cup because it was broken. So was his laptop – smashed to pieces, black keys scattered over the floor, and the screen imprinted with a large white blotch in the center, from where it had impacted with the floor.
And L supposed somewhere down the line it was alright to cry because he had restrained himself for a pretty long time with the walk up here and then the request for the tea tray that was now upside down.
He couldn't remember the last time he had cried, if ever, other than a time early in his life when he was suddenly struck by the fact that he was an orphan and there was no one coming for him.
He cried for numerous reasons, but mainly for the fact that he had fallen in love with a person who he could not have. He cried for frustration, because he was tired, because this case had immeasurably fucked up his life and just because he was sad.
There were apparently many things to cry about, but it didn't take very long. He supposed he simply needed that moment to compose himself and figure out what he wanted to do next.
March 28, 2005.
It was a beautiful day in Japan.
The sun was warm but not an over-powering presence in the sky; there was hardly a cloud, only wisps of white traced upon an immense blueness, and the breeze was as gentle as a mother's hand.
Lines of people all dressed in black and varying shades of white stood in front of a closed casket, the polished black veneer reflecting the somber faces of the mourners as each stepped up to the coffin and placed down a white lily or a blue iris.
Yagami Soichirou was seated three rows away from the casket. He was staring silently at his wife as she sat to the front in one of the black folding chairs, calmly attempting to take on the responsibility of listening to fellow mourners as they passed by and gave condolences to the family.
There was not a tear in her eye as she sat poised in her seat, gentle mannerisms and gracious acceptance of heartfelt bows from teachers who had once taught her son, to the many, many young men and women who had graduated in the same class.
Sachiko had always been a proud woman who could not cry in front of others, not even in front of her husband or children. But the quiet desperation in her doe-brown eyes, the stiff way she was holding her lip and her own bowed head, they were enough to show a mother's agony. Even through the dignified manner she carried herself, it was not hard to see that she would quietly cry herself into depression once the ceremony and her responsibilities were done with.
Sayu was seated next to him, his precious daughter and now only child. She was crying into her hands so as to not make too much noise, a reflex after seeing how her mother was handling the crowd. She had started weeping since the ceremony had started, and to its near end the tears had not stopped or even abated.
The investigation team was seated in the far back, and the last time he had glanced over at them he had seen Matsuda crying, the rest quietly staring forward.
He had once thought that he would quit the NPA once his son was proven to be innocent, and yet, here laid Raito, as innocent as the day he was born, and Soichirou had no thoughts of ever stopping in his pursuit to catch Kira. He knew the men behind him would agree whole-heartedly with his choice, would have agreed to continue even if he had given up.
But his son, his precious son…how could he ever forgive himself for letting this happen to him? How could he ever go on living with his continuous failures, as the chief of police and more importantly as a father?
Soichirou looked at his wife and his daughter, and begged their forgiveness for not bringing Raito back home. He looked straight ahead at the black casket, white and blue flowers overflowing from the top, and also desperately prayed that one day he would be forgiven for failing his son, failing him so miserably…
THE EMPEROR OF THE WOEFUL REALM FROM HIS MIDBREAST ISSUED FORTH FROM THE ICE
IF HE WAS AS FAIR AS HE NOW IS FOUL AND AGAINST HIS MAKER LIFTED UP HIS BROW
SURELY MAY ALL TRIBULATION PROCEED FROM HIM.
OH HOW GREAT A MARVEL IT SEEMED TO ME, WHEN I SAW THREE FACES ON HIS HEAD!
BENEATH EACH CAME FORTH TWO GREAT WINGS, OF SIZE BIFITTING SO HUGE A BIRD.
WITH SIX EYES HE WAS WEEPING
WITH EACH MOUTH HE WAS CRUSHING A SINNER WITH HIS TEETH,
SO THAT HE THUS WAS MAKING THREE OF THEM WOEFUL.
"THAT SOUL UP THERE WHICH HAS THE GREATEST PUNISHMENT," SAID THE MASTER,
"IS JUDAS ISCARIOT."
L had left the safety of his room for Raito's cell at dusk on the twenty-eighth.
The arrangements had been made, and this was to be the last meeting he would ever have with Kira.
When he opened the door, he found Raito lying on the floor, eyes partially open and one of his arms flung out to the side, the other cradling his stomach. He was as pale as if death had already claimed him.
"Raito," L called, as he approached, metal wheels scratching on the cement-gray floor. "Is this how you choose to regret your crimes?"
Raito's eyelids flickered, wine-red pupils obscured by the moisture caught on his light-colored eyelashes.
"I regret nothing," he whispered hoarsely. "I've never done anything to which I need to regret. I was saving mankind, and now you've doomed them all again."
L abruptly stopped in his wheelchair. "Then I will apologize for my behavior. I did not realize I was dooming an entire population of people when I caught you. Maybe that will teach me," L sarcastically replied, trying not to raise his voice when he spoke next. "It disappoints me that you cannot stop deluding yourself for one moment and try to put this in perspective. All I asked was for you to show some compassion, some sympathy for the countless you have wronged – and still, you cannot even accomplish that feat in your last hour of life."
"I have nothing to regret," Raito repeated more forcibly, like a record-player stuck on loop. "Absolutely nothing. I used my intelligence for something that no one else could pull off. That's what brains are for: you use it to do something that no one else would even dream of. You use it to revolutionize, to make better, and anything else is a total wast --"
"Do not talk to me about waste when you have thrown your life away," L snapped. "It is a misuse of human resource -- of human intelligence what you have done." He shook his head, disappointed. "You are so intelligent and yet this is what you use your aptitude for. Do you even understand how many would kill to have the things you have? How many would love to be smart, and good-looking, and have a wonderful family -- to have endless possibilities open to them, anything they wanted because they were so young and so immensely talented…?"
Raito opened his mouth and L cut him off. "You had everything, and yet it was still not enough. I would ask what was wrong with you, but I am too busy marveling at how you royally screwed up such a picturesque life."
L could plainly see the anger etched out onto Raito's once impartial features. "What's wrong with me?" he spat out. "How can you even say those things to me when you're doing the same thing?"
"You do whatever the hell you want, never stopping to answer to anyone. You just travel around the world, solving case after case for fun. Not caring if you hurt anyone in the process. The only thing you ever cared about in your life was being considered the greatest detective. You even have aliases to make yourself look better. What is that? Can you honestly tell me that anything else even holds a candle?"
"It's the same with me," he said, sincerity making his voice urgent. "Friends, family, lovers – what does it matter when you find something that makes you so happy and satisfied that you can't stand to do anything else. I've found my calling. I won't be happy doing anything else, and I know you wouldn't be happy being anything but a detective."
"Yes, I am proud of being a detective," L agreed. "But sadly, I have discovered that my happiness no longer is solely dependent on my work. I can devote myself to a principle as much as I want, but the time will come when I die and any contributions I've made will disappear, be replaced, or remembered, but remembered for one facet of what it was."
"Let me ask you a question -- what do you think would have happened if you had succeeded? You would have judged humanity for the rest of your life -- but then what? When you die, you would pass the power on and see it corrupted by someone who did not understand your principles. Your utopia could never last forever, because you cannot live forever. You can hope that everyone remembers what it was like when you were alive, but there will be a time when this will only be memory in the past, a bunch of unfortunate events that led to nothing."
"You will die one day Raito," L solemnly concluded, "but crime and human baseness will remain. What you were doing – it was useless."
Raito stared at him, and the look on his face was depressed, heartbroken, as if his ideologies were not things, but humans in which he could fall in love with and be discarded for at any time. "Shut up," he said miserably. "You have no idea…no idea. I don't care about any of that. I have only one life to live and I don't care what happens after it. I just…I just wanted to be God. I wanted to be God." There were tears in his eyes, and they would have to be genuine, because Raito's only wish in life had been to become the moralistic god of a world created from his ideals. He cared for nothing else, loved nothing else like his beliefs, and for someone, specifically for L to attack them, to say they were useless, contorted things when he was already at his emotional precipice, that must have hurt Raito more than he'd ever been in his life.
"There's no such thing as heaven or hell," he said, distressed, wounded. "I don't want to live in a world where criminals die and are left unpunished. I don't want that. If there's no heaven and hell then why not create them on earth before it's too late. Why not punish the sinners and reward the good people…"
Essentially, Raito was altruistic. He didn't care about money or fame. He wanted to help people within his own definition of the word. However, that didn't stop him from being so delusional, so much so that L felt sorry for him. A little corner of him actually pitied Raito, while the rest knew that this person in front of him didn't need an ounce of human sympathy, didn't deserve it, because of how frighteningly capable he was.
L could not help but think what a waste it was. Raito was so brilliant and he would have to turn around and snuff out that brilliance. It depressed him to ponder about all the untapped potential within this one human being. It saddened him, worst it infuriated him.
"Why did you have to betray me?" L asked, not caring how stupid it might sound. He really shouldn't have been so bitter towards Raito. After all, he had always been suspicious of him. It was the very reason he had wanted to get closer to him -- or the majority of it anyway. The possibility of Raito being Kira had always been high, more than high, to him it was assured. Even without a smidgen of proof, even with the accumulation of evidence that continuously said Raito was innocent, there was no one more appropriate to L, more suitable for the role of evil genius.
At some point he'd stopped thinking about Raito's innocence in terms of cold hard facts and had simply given him the title of Kira, the high respect of an enemy of this caliber. To him, no one was good enough, or smart enough, or perfect enough for the title – but Raito. He was different.
And still, it had surprised him when Raito had smiled at him so maliciously in the church. It was a foolish thing to think about this investigation in terms of betrayal and revenge – but L wouldn't have considered it unfaithfulness if Raito had killed him without dragging his feelings into this. If Raito had murdered him without sleeping with him, without lying to his face about feelings he did not share, only to stab him in the back…
He'd seen all three faces of Raito: the friend, the lover, and the enemy -- and out of all of them, the one he most admired, ironically, was the face of his enemy. At least that one was prone to lie less than the other two.
"You keep telling me you want to help people, you want to save people, but if you really felt that way you would have accepted my offer of work the moment I brought it up."
Raito shook his head, voice failing him. "You weren't serious."
"When am I never serious when business is involved?"
"But you, yourself, said that I'd choose the NPA over you, and that you'd be fine with that. You knew I would never accept your offer in the first place, so why even bring it up? You didn't need to test me again when you'd already tested me with a similar situation before."
L hesitated. "I only like to hire the best, so do not hold it against me if I had become persistent with you."
"That's the stupidest thing I've ever --" Raito balled his fist in frustration, giving up to stare incredulously at L. "Don't tell me you would have actually hired me if I'd said yes…"
"You are forgetting who I usually employ?" L answered. "If they are the best in their field, if they are useful to me, if they owe me a favor, if I can blackmail or buy them off -- these are all important things to consider when determining business relationships. There are many criminals in the underground that have never touched a weapon and yet they are considered world-class in their trades."
"At the time I asked you about your work preference, I was starting to doubt whether you were in fact Kira. Of course, I was waiting for my evidence, but if those two notebooks had been identical…" L trailed off, resuming with some effort, "if you had been innocent," he said, "I would have asked you to take the position of Eraldo Coil for me. And if you wanted the other one, I would have given you Danuve as well. I would have even made up a new detective if you wanted another alias."
"Not to mention, you would have had my candidacy for the L-name hands down above my other applicants, who are currently far too inexperienced. I have always been searching for a person who could succeed me in case I met with some misfortune earlier than expected, someone who could take my place and keep my identity going for as long as they could intelligently maintain it, until they were ready to hand it over to someone as equally capable."
L stared directly at Raito, dark eyes locking onto his lighter-colored one. "You have all my requirements and much more…you would have been perfect."
"You would have been perfect," L repeated, emphasizing on the 'would have.' "But I see now that you cannot manage power. It begins to corrupt and manipulate you, and I will not trust someone who will ultimately drag my name through the mud for his own purposes, because doubt my professionalism, but my name as L is the only thing of significance to me, and I will not have it tarnished by you."
Finally falling silent, L looked down at the floor. He no longer really had anything left to share with Raito, nothing that he found important anyway.
But despite having bared this part of himself, he still felt a sense of urgency. His last moments with Raito were upon him. His last moments to feel the things only Raito could instill within him, to feel the last shreds of challenge and strange tenderness that their relationship had afforded, before it was all swept away by the heartache awaiting him around the corner, because when he left here today and took with him his last memory of Raito, it would follow him for the rest of his life.
It would be unbearable at first – depression and emptiness would cling to him like shadows. He would find himself doubting his decisions in every thing he did. Things would be hard.
But in time those feelings would fade, enough for him to function within his role as detective again, but not enough for him to forget, to let go…
One day -- wherever in the future it might be -- he would get over Raito. He would get over this. L knew his capacity for emotion, and knew that once Raito was no longer an immediate physical presence in his life, he would move on. His independence would reinsert itself and he would begin to reject the very person he had been when he was with Raito, the sheer memory of it would be blocked out. He would make himself forget, and then Raito would only be a tombstone in his head.
A snag in his forward momentum, someone who had turned him into the type of person that was weak-minded and had a hard time comprehending people.
Maybe this was all for the best…
Did he really want to live a life that was dependent on another for happiness?
And what exactly was his happiness? Why couldn't he simply find that happiness with someone other than Raito? Did he really need to put himself through all of this for one human being when there were so many others out there?
Not like him though, never like him…
What was so special about Raito?
Everything. Every single thing…
He had his flaws and his complexes.
But who else had ever come that close to becoming a god…
Things could never work between them anyway.
He could try. He'd never had to try in his life, but he'd try for him. He was the first person to step forward when the word 'impossible' was brought up, and impossible certainly summed up their relationship…
L felt uncomfortable in his own skin, treacherous as his thoughts were, he was more concerned with the time. The limits he had placed on himself for –
L felt his eyes wondering over to Raito of their own accord, a brief sound from that side of the room making him halt.
Raito's hands were covering his face, but L could see tears falling from between them, pattering the cold floor. He was finally crying, and not because he regretted murdering people, or because he hurt his family, people who had continually trusted him – no, Raito was crying because he knew he was going to die, and it was the only thing he could do at the moment.
And for all the crap that L had had to put up with over the past few months, he could not hate him.
"Do not cry, Raito," L told him. "I do not want my last memory of you to have tears in it. I would like to remember you as too proud for them."
Despite his words, Raito continued to quietly mourn himself.
"Would you let someone like me see you in this state?" L asked, finally descending from his wheelchair. He crouched in front of Raito, a hand gently touching his shoulder.
Raito batted it away vehemently. "God, let me at least cry in peace, you --!" Giving up on his words, he turned his head away from L. "Go away, just leave me alone…"
L felt an ache in his chest at being dismissed. Of course, Raito would want his last moments for himself, but L didn't really care what he wanted. Those treacherous thoughts were whispering to him again, questioning his determination for justice.
Death was coming for Raito, but it was also inevitably going to come for him. L had no idea what Ryuuk was planning, if he would indeed kill him after he executed Raito for his crimes. He had no idea what to expect from Raito's shinigami. L had made the trade with him, and in turn they had made their own deal for who had the privilege of owning the remainder of Raito's lifespan. But all these complications could be avoided if the god of death had simply written down both their names in his notebook.
So really, he had no idea of what was going to happen in the end. He had no control over the situation. The only thing he seemed to have control over was at what time Raito would die, when it was okay to say goodbye to him…
Placing his hand on Raito's shoulder again, it was no surprise when L was met with an even angrier response. "You really don't know when to quit," Raito snarled, pushing his hand away. He let him brush him off, but persisted nevertheless, now both off his hands clamped down on Raito's shoulder.
"Listen to me," he demanded, decisions falling into place -- and at the tone of his voice, Raito had gone as still as a puppet whose strings had been cut.
L was going to forever regret this, but –
"There is one way you can save yourself, but there is no room for negotiations. Do you understand me?"
Raito looked at L, perplexed beyond a doubt.
"I could put you to use," L said, the words flowing out of him with frightening ease. "Intelligence never excuses bad behavior, but this is the not the first time I've hired those with a background."
Raito stared at him, dumbfounded.
"I am giving you two options, Raito: You can hate me and die. Or, you can hate me and be of use. I want you to work for me. That has always been true, and if you choose the latter, then you will be in my employment. You will take over the position of Danuve and any other position I see fit."
"All the chaos you have caused, you will make it right again. You will devote your entire life to correcting your mistakes. You want justice for this world, Raito, then do it within the system. You can hate me all you want. That does not bother me, but if you show signs of wanting to betray me again I will send you directly to your grave."
"I will own you and your ability until the day you die – if you can live with that knowledge then choose this. But if you have too much pride, then choose to die right now."
Raito stared at him, pained. "Goddamn you…"
"Give me an answer," L said, unflinching. He tightened his fingers on Raito's shoulders. "Do you really want to die that badly?" L asked. "Please do not make me do this to you," he said quietly. "Don't give a reason. I don't want to, but I will if you leave me no choice. I don't believe you can reform – I don't really care if you can reform, but the one thing I do know is that if you cannot work for then you are useless. I won't keep something that has no purpose and that wishes to always oppose me."
Raito closed his eyes and there were tears running down his face. "I don't want this…"
"Are you saying you would rather die than work for me?"
"Goddamn you, I die either way!" Raito shouted. "What the fuck do you want me to say? I don't want to live in a virtual prison for the rest of my life..." Raito was fisting his shirt in his hands, shoulders bowed, but eyes looking into his own. "I want my freedom."
"Then I cannot help you," L said, sadly. He took a good look at the brunette as he stood, but Raito suddenly grabbed him by the hand, drawing him back down. In return, L also grabbed onto Raito's hand as he knelt down in front of him.
"You need to make a choice. Once I walk out of that door, you are dead to me."
"I don't want to die…" Raito said, emotions laid bare.
"Then accept my offer."
Raito closed his eyes, shaking his head. "But what about my freedom, my freedom…"
"Raito," L said forcefully, grabbing him by the shoulders and steadying him. "Do you really want to cry about freedom when you will be dead? You can say how much you hate it, but when death comes for you, you will think differently."
"Do not think about it too much," he reasoned; a contradiction to everything the two of them had ever been. "Simply say 'yes' and this will be over."
"Then promise me," Raito suddenly said, eyes as sharp as ever. "I don't trust anything that comes out of your mouth, but at least give me better reassurance."
"You're accepting…?" L asked, taken aback.
"Yes, so just promise me…"
We climbed, him first and I behind,
Until, through a small rounding opening ahead of us
I saw the lovely things the heavens hold,
And we came out to see once more the stars…
A/n: The reason I used Dante's inferno as the ongoing allusion in this arc of the story is because the journey doesn't just end when Dante reaches the end of Hell. The journey continues, and that's essentially what I wanted to sum up for this pair. I have also gone a little (just a little) crazy with the amount of comparisons I've made between Raito and biblical characters/ or characters from legend: Eve, Lucifer, Judas, and Faust. I've done the same thing with L, but not as pronounced: Adam, Christ, and Dante – this has been more or less L's journey, as I've put it in his perspective.
1. "THE EMPEROR OF THE WOEFUL REALM…" This excerpt was taken from Canto XXXIV, the last chapter of Dante's inferno. This is where Dante enters the fourth and last zone of the ninth circle, called Judecca, after the Judas who betrayed Christ. This zone of hell punishes those who betray their lords or benefactors. Satan resides here as a three-headed fallen angel, encapsulated in ice from the waist down, and who chews within each mouth a significant betrayer. In the left mouth is Brutus and in the right is Cassius, betrayers of Julius Caesar. In the central and most ferocious mouth, Judas is kept.
2. "We climbed, him first and I behind…" Both Dante and his guide, Virgil, have left the horrors of Hell behind, and now ascend to the Mountain of Purgatory, where more trials await.