Disclaimer: My name is King, I need a vacation, and I do not own Death Note.
Devil's Trill
I: The Problem of Evil
CH8
Black Water
Light was never satisfied with his life, not really.
Which was selfish. He was always loved, adored and pampered, and he was probably the only male person in on the brick of adulthood who wouldn't storm out of the room when his mother brought out his baby pictures. He was as adorable in pink overalls playing with alphabet cubes as he was in his first school uniform holding his first math trophy. So it was a given that having grown up as the center of all possible attention, he fall in love with the smart little boy that everyone else was so much in love with - himself.
That was the problem.
Light Yagami had no way of loving anyone but himself.
He was so perfect, so good at everything he laid his hands on that no one even dared to compete with him. Sometimes he wished somebody would be able to compare, just to shove right past Light and leave him in dust so that Light could realize the perfect image of himself that he'd fallen in love with wasn't so perfect after all. But there was nobody, and the more he realized just what he was capable of, the more this narcissistic love grew.
And so his life was empty.
This was why about half a year ago during his summer vacation he had enough. At that time, he was juggling Misa and Takada. He got the highest possible graduating award, ranked first in nation-wide university entrance exams and figured out the meaning of life.
His life was complete because everything he could ever have was right there and all he had to do was reach out and grab it from the silver platter.
Light's life was no-longer subjective.
So he decided to treat it for what it was: an object.
So he gambled with it. And it wasn't a bad gamble either: he dumped Takada and asked Misa to elope with him. They 'eloped' as far as Tokyo (which wasn't very far at all) and broke up over Misa's god-awful rice. He told her he wouldn't love with her cooking. She said it was okay as long as long as he pretended to appreciate it. Two days later she realized it wasn't okay. At least Misa could read into things symbolically.
Takada, upon being thrown out, took things into perspective. She realized all men were pigs, so she went and got herself a girlfriend... and happily bragged to Light about it, and Light interpreted it as an invitation into some obscene threesome.
As a result, Light took to an occasional drink of ten, Misa got a therapist and Takada slowly lost her mind.
It was around the first time L visited him that Light realized what he needed. He couldn't love anyone and if loving someone was as insane and impulsive as Misa made it look, he needed something like that. And then it hit him. He would love himself no matter how much of a bastard he would become. To love someone meant to fuck yourself over for them, and if he couldn't love, he could sure as hell hate. He needed an enemy.
A strong motherfucker of an enemy he could actually consider his rival.
And then he looked at the object that was his life and realized that his life was a chip in a very grand gambling scheme.
Slowly, he was becoming a player instead of a puny thing for L play with.
And he loved it.
It was also the first time in his life that he realized he needed people. He needed that love and adoration he was so, so used to. He needed moral support and companionship; otherwise he would lose his mind.
So he needed that spontaneous sexually-frustrated bastard with a sugar fetish.
Ryuzaki.
Even back when Light thought Ryuzaki was L he trusted him, and he still did.
This is why it was very important that L would be in Light's shabby rental when Light got home at four in the morning. If L wasn't there, it would mean Ryuzaki was L, and L was currently watching early-morning Korean dramas on his huge wall projector; L's visit was long overdue anyway.
Please be here, god damn you, he thought, flicking on the lights.
They worked, and his heart sunk.
He's the only thing I got to hang on to. Please be here.
The Myth of Male Power lay on the arm of his couch, exactly where he did not leave it.
Light sighed in partial relief.
"Hello L," he said quietly into the empty room.
He heard even footsteps behind him walking away into the corridor to flick off the lights. Light didn't turn around and L knew not to bother to tell him to stay still.
It was an odd silent arrangement, and Light waited patiently for whatever was to come.
"Hello Light," L finally answered into his ear in that alluring low whisper. The coat lifted from his shoulders and with two tugs on the sleeves, peeled away from his body completely.
Light said nothing because it was not his place to speak.
Warm breath scattered the hair at the back of his neck and tickled him, and L's cold thumbs pressed into the base of his skill.
They were familiar yet different.
Many people had bad blood circulation, he told himself.
Light closed his eyes as more of L's cold fingers ghosted over his throat and tilted his head back to rest on the man's shoulder. The rest of his body went lax and he relaxed, if just a little; instead of being terrified to look back, he just did not care enough.
"Come."
The direction he was taken was his bedroom, but it looked different. The blinds were closed and covered over with something because not even the light form the neighboring homes penetrated the darkness. His nightlight, his digital clock, everything that was shiny and had the property of emitting or reflecting light was removed. The room was pitch black and all he could see were faint outlines of his furniture because the door was still open.
He was nudged inside, and heard the door close softly. He could see nothing at all.
So this is how it was going to be.
"Can you see anything?" he asked L half-heartedly.
"Not really," chuckled L.
Feeling for the furniture, they made it to the bed and Light sat down.
Could L see him?
Slowly, he reached out and his fingers touched a pant leg somewhere in the pocket area. Jeans. Carefully, not to alarm the man, Light felt up the pants, came across the rim of the shirt and went sideways until he hit a sleeve. Breathing quietly, he took L's cold hand into his own and guided him towards his own direction.
Finding the bed, L sat down next to him, though Light was sure he gracefully tripped.
This was okay. He did not let go of the cold hand, and for a few minutes they just sat there in complete darkness, aware of each other's existence only because of their quiet breathing.
"L," Light said finally and a faint noise of acknowledgement was his permission to go on, "am I going to die?"
He heard a sharp sigh of annoyance and slowly, almost lazily, the man's free hand pressed onto his chest and slid down to hold his waist; instead of being next to him, L was now short of hovering over him. Light gave, and they both collapsed onto Light's springy mattress.
"You smell like soap," Light noted, again half-heartedly. L rubbed circles into his hipbones. That... did absolutely nothing. Light mused over it for a bit, and figured L wasn't much into it.
"The hell I'm gonna give you encouragement," Light mumbled grudgingly sideways.
L snorted, and the weight on the mattress around Light suddenly lifted and pooled around his feet, and after what lasted as long as it took L to find ground, disappeared completely. Sounds of the static of a sweater being pulled over hair followed, then came the heavier drop of pants to the ground. A few buckles were undone and two heavy metallic pieces fall onto his far table. Much softer fabric slid a few feet down and dropped lightly on top of the pants.
Light kicked off his own pants and waited. The blanket under him was yanked.
"Off," the man commanded, "your clothes, too."
Light lost his shirt as he stood up, but his briefs were... Light hooked his thumbs into the elastic of his briefs and peeled them off bravely. He shivered. Though the snow took a brake for a week, it was still mid-winter and Light liked to save on his energy bill.
"Nothing weird, okay?" he said after a long pause before getting under the blankets. If L wanted to do something weird and gross, he most definitely wouldn't pay any mind to his request, though Light didn't really think L had anything weird and gross in mind. Just because.
He heard a hand scouting the sheets for him, turned towards the sound and saw absolutely nothing. The darkness was obsolete.
His eyes were useless. He closed them.
Just listen.
L finally found him and as soon as the cold skin of his fingers touched Light's relatively warm flesh, Light sucked in a sharp breath and goosebumps spread out from the point of contact; he felt a rush spread though his blood along with the hysteric shiver that the touch created. God...
He was short of hyperventilating when his mouth was caught between two sticky chapstick-covered lips and hell broke loose when his naked, warm body was wrapped with two cold thighs and those fingers that were barely gracing his shoulder turned into an open palm, running down his arm before clutching into it, hard.
Light shuddered violently again, and the man gripped onto his other arm harder still, assaulting his mouth with heavy kisses.
Almost suddenly, Light had an erection. His member was half-hard and almost standing, and he was afraid that anymore of this, and it would touch the belly of the man hovering only a few inches above him. The rush was back.
Adrenaline and hormones.
Damn it. It was the aftershock of the day. Damn it, damn it. He lay there, still as he could be, and yet what he wanted, what his body was aching to do, was to move. Move anywhere. Jump, run, move. He screwed his eyes shut as hard as he could until he could see static circles at the back of his eyelids.
Stay the fuck still, he screamed in his head as L left his mouth and hastily danced down his chest. The grip on his arm loosened and suddenly, out of nowhere, those cold fingers ghosted over his lower abdomen, and that finally did it.
In an angry shove, he freed his hand and as he felt L about to pin him back down, Light stabbed the man's back with his own fingernails and yanked down as hard as he could. L's cold flesh slapped against his own, successfully knocking the breath out of him and flattening him to Light. His erection was pinned down by L's cold belly and twitched violently at the contact. He had no idea where L's was in that department, but the hell he cared. Grabbing almost desperately into the bony shoulder, he yanked at the mop of what he imagined to be black hair and pulled up until he could kiss any part of L's face himself.
Damn it, this is so not right, he thought to himself when the man chuckled and pressed their bodies together and draped his hands around Light's waist.
"Haa..." was all he could hear himself say as he found the man's mouth and attacked, opening up and trying to catch the warm tongue inside with is own, "Nn..."
And then he felt it: hard, warm flesh against his bare thigh almost burned him. "Nnn," he bucked his hips trying to free his own member because if this was all L was going to do about his erection, he would at least touch himself... but the man got the hint and fisted him before he could even decide which hand to send down... there...
"Oh," he sucked in a sharp breath as the man squeezed hard. Very hard, too hard. Light hissed and slapped his thighs shut on pure instinct, cursing under his breath, digging his nails into L's back and feeling warm blood sip out.
L... L!
Fuck.
"Aww…nnhh..." a little sound that escaped Light's open mouth and got stuck somewhere in L's throat in-between the kiss. "Haa… fuck..." pain, sweet pain stabbed him in his lower abdomen like he has kicked or punched or something and his belly immediately clenched, making the muscles of his legs to relax and right away, not even giving Light a fucking second to catch his breath, L was down there, still clutching painfully at the base of his shaft while, while...
"L-let go..." he managed and L let go, and his erection sprung up immediately, as hard as it would get and Light moaned shamelessly. Cold digits went lower still and Light tensed as they cupped his very sensitive sack; if the fucking bastard was going to pull the same shit there, he'd kill him... His clenched thighs were pried open and as the sweet warmth of L's mouth explored wondrous places while long, cold and wet things, two at a time, slid harshly inside of him.
"Fuck," Light sat up sharply but L was a leap ahead of him and slammed him back down; the strong hand at his throat made him still, and L stopped moving too, take the now three obnoxious fingers that oh... fuck... just fucking hit his... prostate...
"F-fuck… yy-" his voice failed him and precum streamed down his abandoned manhood, "Yy—got... go-ot four f-f-fckn m-minutes."
If L actually laughed with his full voice at the warning, Light couldn't hear it. Sharp, scorching pain tore though his lower back when L penetrated him in one sharp thrust. Unfit and hard, his swollen member pulsated against Light's inner walls and Light could actually feel the man's accelerated heartbeat inside of himself.
Hot.
His leg was over L's shoulder and the sheets he was clenching into were sweaty and sticky.
The air of the room smelled like sweat and soap, and Light realized his head was dangerously close the headboard. It was probably dawn, though his windows were far too well barricaded to let in any light.
Which way was the window, anyway?
L pulled out of him and the same pain tore though him again when he slammed back it, and Light fisted a handful of damp hair. As the man rammed into him again and again, the pain never really dulled out, but in light of L's mischievous hand that jammed a fingernail into his slit and the bundle of nerves somewhere deep inside of him that were bothered every time the man tore at his clenched inner muscles, the pain was okay.
His mattress cried in rhythm with L and Light found himself bucking his hips on pure instinct, anything to make L reach deeper...
"Ha…aaaa.. f-fu.." finding no comfort in L's hair, Light grabbed onto the sheets so hard that his nails broke and his fingertips bled. "Too f-fuc… haaar-ha... d... f.." L squeezed him at the base and stroked upwards without releasing, making things very tight and wonderful and Light screamed.
Hot liquid mess, different from burning pain, L's harness, warm lubricant or blood eased L's way in even further and the bastard rammed into him faster still, lifting Light's hips off the mattress completely.
Light swore one last time before releasing; the orgasm tore though him and clamped every muscle so it took L two or so uneven thrusts to spill into Light.
The man collapsed on top of him, but Light didn't care. His ears rang, his hypersensitive skin tingled and dull burning inside of him was somehow the most wonderful thing in the world.
It was done.
L rolled them over. Panting, Light lay on L's heaving chest. Heavy scent of sweat and semen filled the still air of the room and Light's sweaty arm stuck to L's side. No matter. This was bliss.
When he laced his bloody fingers with L's, he found his hand warm and slippery. He became aware that the lubricant L used wasn't Light's, the thing over his window was probably his old, thick quilt, the blankets and pillows got thrown off to the floor in the heat of the moment and Light's foot was feeling the bare mattress because the sheet was probably torn off as well.
L's chest was smooth and his hair was mostly concentrated in his lower abdomen and his sex, and the soap he used was the most god-awful soap he'd ever smelled... thankfully L's natural scent made it alright. He had to suppress the urge to hop on top of the man and touch his arms and face.
Hmm…
…his curiosity had no right to get better of him because doing something like fingering every cure of L's face would definitely defy the purpose of the dark room.
As he eyed the blackness in random wonder, Light couldn't help but sulk a little; his first time with Ryuzaki... was wasteful to say the least.
Though he really shouldn't compare. Shouldn't. They were far too similar, their longish hair, the sent of their sweat, the painfully familiar way L felt inside of him... though those might as well have been true for all men, after all this was only his second time.
Only.
Hah.
Light yawned and settled in between L's neck and shoulder. The man blew a puff of air at him and Light slapped his side.
"What's with the soap, anyway?"
Probably not a proper question to ask.
"Not the right question to ask, Light."
"Hah."
And so they lay there.
"Any right questions you have for me?" said L, still whispering, and Light realized he's been waiting for him to say something else.
"Oh right. Umm... what happened to killing me?"
"...I changed my mind."
So you were planning on it.
"For how long?"
L made an annoyed sound at the back of his throat.
Light debated it for a second and decided to push the subject further.
"I'm on your investigation team, you know."
"So I do."
"I'm gonna catch you before you change your mind back."
At that, L chuckled, rolled them over, took Light's face in his hands and kissed him, and was gone.
Gradually, light seeped in though his curtains and at first Light could make out faint shapes of his 'gently-used' furniture, then finer things like books, pens and other garbage.
Much changed since he'd last seen his room.
An old quilt covered his window, his study desk was moved to the side of the room and his textbooks were stacked on a stool he used as a TV table until the darn thing broke... If he recognized the spines correctly, his books were arranged alphabetically.
Hmm. Light preferred to sort textbooks by color instead.
His bedside table with a lamp was moved a few feet away from his bed and surely enough, Light could see his digital clock, booklight and iPod dock, all unplugged and dumped carelessly in the corner by the door.
Get rid of it. Light took the hint.
An unscrewed bottle of lubricant lay leaking on his carpet. When'd the bastard manage to use it? A condom wrapper lay next to it. Okay, that one he'd definitely remember, so he reached down and scooped some of L's quickly drying semen from his thigh.
A condom wrapper, what the hell.
Curiously, Light bounced off the bed far enough to the side to reach the thing, careful to avoid any movement that jerked his damaged insides. Half-opened, the rubber ring still inside… torn. With teeth. Useless. Apparently L got too eager opening it and broke the thing.
Always have a spare, he joked.
It was a crisp, cold Sunday morning, the kind that was as deceitful as Sunday mornings could get. It will without any doubt whatsoever, start pouring before afternoon and rain will last throughout the next few weeks; occasionally the air will get cold enough and the rain will freeze into snow and then it would melt, turning streets into muddy pools, and it will not stop raining.
This would be Light's first-ever rainy season that he will not spend behind the windows of some learning establishment. The notion was odd because Light never really resented school or was eager to get out of it. Prep-school, school, cram-school, To-Oh, cram school for To-Oh... when his father forced him to take at least one weekend day off, Light was really at loss of what to do, that's why an hour ago when his father made it clear that should he show up to their third L-investigation headquarters, Soichiro will toss him out personally.
Not that Light minded.
He wasn't in the mood to see Ryuzaki.
He wasn't in the mood to deal with Matsuda and the rest of the team, either.
Or call up his trusty group of worshipping friends and go to some lame place and do useless things.
Booze.
Light wanted booze.
Strong, cheep booze that will wash away the discomfort of walking, shame and guilt.
Booze that'll make him forget things like Ryuzaki and L, and that psychopath with blonde hair and army boots. He didn't want to care.
He kind of just slept with a person he vowed to get killed. Crucial evidence like DNA, fingerprints and hair that would be so, so vital for police to have was right there, and all it would really take Light was a walk down to the HQ and a small bag to have these things put to proper use... instead Light washed our the semen and got rid of the rest.
Out of pride.
Too bad.
Oh yeah, and he kind of got four people killed... Whoops.
Yeah, that's pretty much it.
Misa.
He wanted to call and bitch to Misa.
But then again, booze and Misa were the same devil, so he might as well get to the one that was closer, which happened to be a corner bar that didn't mind giving kids hefty bottles of the strongest Vodka they got.
"Hey, you!" called out an irate female voice, but Light continued walking. The bar was right there. It was a Sunday. A backpacker wanted to get friendly with a good-looking college student.
"Wait, will you!" hah. Japanese girls, especially in heels of that size would never run. Westerners and their awful manners. Light slowed down to a lazy stroll, deciding to let her catch up and give he a piece of his mind once she did. Probably some old bat in her thirties...
She caught up.
"Miss, you know what-" he started and abruptly stopped once a black leather-clad golden badge was thrust in front of him before he could even turn.
"Misora Naomi, FBI."
When Light first laid his eyes on the woman, an odd sense of resentment almost made him gag. In her fuck-off stilettos, Misora Naomi stood a good inch above him. Her black turtleneck sweater seemed to suck masculinity away from her surroundings and if anything, her tiny, subtle Prada made her look anything but. The tips of her tailored leather jacket moved stiffly with her hips.
Subconsciously, Light erected his shoulders.
American power-bitches...
"Yagami Raito," he said hatefully, "what can I do for you?"
The woman just smirked at the implication to get lost.
"Care to take a lady for a coffee, Raito-kun? There is a nice café down the street from here."
Her Japanese was rusty and a little outdated, and by 'nice café', Light suspected she meant Starbucks. Americans. He gestured ahead and she followed his lead without a comment.
A scheming moment of silence later, Light elaborated.
"So Naomi-san, was it? What can I do for the FBI?"
"For FBI?" she laughed dryly as if Light was talking her for a coffee out of the goodness of his heart, "nothing for FBI I'm afraid, FBI does not exactly have jurisdiction in Japan, and I am not on duty."
Light stared, debating if he should push her into the livid traffic.
"Don't look so outraged!" she misplaced her exclamation and mispronounced three out of four words of the sentence, "It's protocol not to lie when you're asking for a favor."
They cut a parking lot and entered a half-empty coffee shop. Light ignored the woman's longing look across the street in the general direction of the Starbucks and got the bitch a decaf with no sugar.
From her expression, he guessed she got the hint to cut some calories, but easily dismissed the insult.
"And what would this favor be?" he said when they were out of the earshot of the curious cash girl. She pleasantly sipped her decaf. They were walking again.
"Well, you see technically this is my wedding trip, but because of the... circumstances, I got my fiancé to take me here sooner... and rigged the only available hotel to be in Kanto, which is very far from Shibuya, so I'm not sure for how much longer this excuse is going to fly, hmm..."
That's nice.
"And what would this favor be?" Light repeated, unflattered by her efforts.
"Well the first one would be not to tell my fiancé I got to you when he finds out what I'm up to."
Because he's probably FBI too.
"And?"
She sat on a bus bench.
"I have a question for you, Raito Yagami."
Backwards, woman. You say names last name first.
He sat down next to her casually, crossing his legs much like her. At this point, Light was more interested in intimidating her than finding out what she wanted.
"I am aware that you are unofficially connected to the L investigation." That wasn't a question. Light's ears immediately perked. "I am also aware why you came into contact with the L investigation in the first place."
He waited for her to continue, wracking his brain for FBI names he came in contact with when he rampaged though Mogi's computer. Naomi, Naomi...
"My question for you is what you think of Ryuzaki Rue."
The question made him narrow his eyes.
"I think he needs a shower," he said dryly.
"Is that all?"
"Yes."
"Isn't there anything else you thought about him, perhaps something you were later on convinced otherwise?"
Light focused on the fucked-up structure of Misora's sentence to dull out the sudden buzzing of thoughts. FBI weren't stupid enough to take his drunken accusations seriously, no way that was the case, and yet here she was, the impersonation of a bitchy fox, spitting nonsense in the name of FBI.
"Isn't there anything, Raito-kun?"
He had to say it.
"At first, I thought Ryuzaki Rue was L."
She brought her coffee away from her face and smiled.
"So do I."
Misora Naomi. FBI, National Security Branch, Directorate of Intelligence. L Division, one of four members. Members qualified exclusively for L expertise.
Namely, the authors of that L-dedicated 214 page fax.
If she didn't know what she was talking about, nobody did.
Light forced himself to breathe.
"You think a closet-billionaire who funds police is a mass murderer," he stated.
"No."
Don't you dare say it.
"I think…" Don't.
But she didn't even pause.
"...that a closet-billionaire who funds police is dead."
There was more, and Light didn't want to hear it, though he could hear it in his head, the lines recited again and again, ideas, convictions, reasoning... his own reasoning that took so much effort to dismiss...
Don't, don't.
"I think that after you saw him, he let you go because he didn't think you would remember him. He does that. Then he changed his mind. He did the simplest thing he could: Ryuzaki Rue was conveniently in Japan, conveniently faceless and continently tied to police."
And then he got bored.
"And then he got bored and decided to fool around and see if you recognized him in person. You did."
The sudden gust of wind blew the steam away from her coffee.
"Don't think you're special, Raito Yagami, what he's doing to you... he's done it before, many times to many other good-looking men. He knows what he likes. Whatever you do, he will get bored of you eventually and then he will kill you and everyone around you. He does that."
Light put most of his strength into convincingly rolling his eyes.
"Bullshit. Rue's scared of L and is hiding. I think L left a while ago."
She caught the lie. Her eyes softened and her lips curled into a gentle smile of pity. Light gagged.
"Think whatever you like, Raito-kun; I don't think you got anything to worry about for a while, this... other L is keeping him entertained alright. For the moment anyway."
If Light was anxious, his face sure as hell showed none of it. He smiled lazily.
"Thanks for the warning," he acted relieved that the matter with FBI was nothing important.
The woman laughed.
"That's probably why he likes you," and she was walking away, her stilettos clacking loudly against hard pavement.
She was half-way out of sight when Light darted after her.
"Misora-san!"
She stared at him.
He's done it before. "...Yotsuba-L, I want to ask you about the other L," he changed his mind mid-sentence and spat out the most reasonable question instead, "how do you know about him?"
If she caught him lying again, she said nothing about it.
"She's been linked to very high-class political assassinations; she's mostly for hire. Loves faking L. There isn't much to her. Or him. I think she's a woman: she has very good taste in leatherwear..."
And Naomi was off again, blabbering to herself about leather and weddings and female superiority.