Devil's Trill Chapter 17: Three Wishes, pt 2, a death note fanfic

Disclaimer: My name is King, I don't own Blood Brothers, I need to grow balls to get a tattoo done, and I do not own Death Note.

Devil's Trill

III: Devil's Trill

But don't you know what if you cross your fingers,
And if you count from one to ten,
You can get up from the ground again.
It doesn't matter; the whole thing's just a game.
The whole thing's just a game.

CH17

Three Wishes - pt. 2

L watched in amazement as Light blabbered about one unrelated thing or another, the silky tone of his voice not faltering one bit, despite the outright nonsense the boy was spitting.

Meds or no meds, this was Light. This was one of the last untouched pieces of Light's fading soul that remained untainted, uncorrupt...

Oh, once this was over, L vowed to nurse the boy back to mental health even if it cost him a leg or something.

Because L figured he owed that to Light, for nearly destroying him.

And this decaying, crumbling skeleton of an abandoned construction site was somehow intimate, like it was empty just for him and Light. So he figured he owed this to Light as well: just a few minutes without accusing him or judging him, or analyzing his every breath. It would be okay to let his guard down.

Just for a few minutes until a fake SWAT team came barging in. Just once.

For Light.

Matt came to the point of uttering a very impolite set of words with short intervals for breathing brakes, because his concern for his own behind and whatever L would do to it after he'd found out how Matt unintentionally screwed him over quickly evolved into a very strong, very ugly bad feeling about Mello.

And with each sharp turn of the tunnel, Matt's gut twisted and cringed and for the life of him, he had to get to that building before something happened to Mello.

Mello was above the freakin' ground, Mello would get there before Matt, Mello-

Matt squeezed the brake and his bike threw him off like bucking horse and screeched its metallic side against damp concrete only to slam into concrete road separators, lose a tire and reduce its front half to unrecognizable shreds of metal. ,

Matt's body rolled some feet and smacked into a tunnel wall, to his luck, he noted through a most likely cracked skull bleeding brains into his eyes, because his team sliced the water where moments ago his body met the concrete, and slammed into the two-ton roadblock, and their real brains leaked out. For real.

Some stopped, one ran up to Matt and helped him up, and through momentary numbness of all pain to all injuries Matt realized something that made him push the man out of his way, limp towards a free bike and ride back, out of the tunnel and take the ground way, to Mello.

Road fucking block.

Matt should've known.

Soichiro Yagami had absolutely no reason to go after L and Tsuki other than to get some sort of personal revenge.

Matt assumed he was trying to kill his son and his son's rapist.

Trouble was...

The police mental assessment of Soichiro Yagami showed absolutely no traces of anything that may in any way put him into a state of homicidal rage towards his son.

Soichiro Yagami loved his son.

And Misora Naomi wouldn't dream of convincing the man to do anything that might hurn his son.

And yet Soichiro Yagami kidnapped L and Tsuki.

Why?

And the roadblock.

FBI and NPA had a hand in this, which meant Soichiro Yagami was just acting.

If he wasn't going to kill L and his boyfriend for real, it meant he was put up to stage something...

And Misora Naomi couldn't possibly persuade him to do it...

The only person left who actually had the brains to set up this whole fucking show and get Soichiro Yagami to fake-shoot his bellowed son...

Was...

There was no radio on this bike, and the phone in his pocket felt like a smashed pile of plastic and metal shit.

He couldn't even warn Mels, damn it.

Matt raced to Mello. He had to claw at his own consciousness to keep it present. His left eye was clouded by blood from a huge, pulsating gash on his temple. As numbness and shock faded, he realized he had at least one broken rib.

It didn't matter.

Mello, and L too, were in deep fuckin' shit.

Tsuki Yagami... no, what did L say? Light Yagami. His kanji read one thing, but you were supposed to pronounce it as something else.

Cunning name.

Cunning little bastard.

Ryuzaki…

Ryuzaki was never the stunningly gorgeous type, but a change of clothes most certainly made Light stare.

The porcelain skin looked paler, softer and smoother against the black, baggy SWAT getup. Ryuzaki lost the gloves and the ski mask awhile back, and his creamy hands poked out of the oversized sleeves. Against not white three-quarter sleeve shirt, the man's pale, almost yellowish skin almost looked like Ryuzaki didn't spend his whole entire life tanning under a computer monitor.

Black almost made him look... kind of cool.

"Raito-kun is staring."

Light ignored him. Ryuzaki was going to die soon anyway. Light had a right to stare.

Despite the wandering hands, he leaned out of the reach to get a full look at the man in front of him.

Sure, the longish, black hair always seemed it be in need of grooming.

Ryuzaki's hair was kind of like… washing hair and… jumping from an airplane to dry it.

That's what it looked like.

Not a greasy, gelled up mess with flakes of dried hair products, but smooth, silky mess that looked greasy sometimes, but only after sex.

It wasn't like they've had that much sex, anyway.

"Raito-kun is staring at me like there is a pigeon in my hair."

Actually, on the several occasions he and Ryuzaki went outside, Light half-expected some bird to come out of nowhere and land on Ryuzaki's head.

"Say, how many times have we had sex?"

"Three."

Light frowned.

"That was some quick math."

Just three? It seemed like they've known each other for ages, but it was actually just under five weeks. Five long, exhausting weeks since the whole thing started... and out of those five weeks, Ryuzaki and Light were together for nine days.

Nine days.

Before Misora Naomi imprisoned them, Ryuzaki screwed him twice. Once after.

Three times.

"That's one less than L."

It was worth to say only to study the man's exotic face.

His large eyes wrinkled at the corners, under some kind of distress of strain, and if it wasn't for messy, heavy bangs, Light would've seen very faint eyebrows draw together in a frown.

"Just to let you know that L's winning the 'Screw Raito Very Hard' contest."

The narrow nose wrinkled and thin lips pressed together.

Light considered the expression for a moment…

Bursts of uncontrollable, uneven laughter sliced though the tense air of the fifth floor of the abandoned, unfinished, graffiti-decorated and bottle-littered building.

"Puff… puff out your cheeks…!"

Ryuzaki kind of looked like a blowfish.

"This is very amusing," the fish in question said, clearly offended.

"Ha ha ha!"

Light felt heavy shudders tear though his body as he laughed.

Fear. He was laughing out of fear; despite the heaviness and warmth of the black shirt he was wearing, he was shivering and his forearms felt cold. Adrenaline-cold. Fear-cold.

Ryuzaki's cute expression changed again, sort of; to an untrained eye Ryuzaki's face would look as stoic and confused as it always did, but Light saw concern in it.

"I'm crying, aren't I."

"Yes, Raito-kun."

Light shook his head, feeling warm tears fly from his face, making even his face cold.

A drop landed on Ryuzaki's face.

"Sorry," Light muttered with a half-smile, reaching out for it, "that's mine." His fingers pressed against the smooth skin, feeling the wetness of the tear to brush it away, but instead he just ended up smearing the moisture down Ryuzaki's cheek to the man's chin, tracing the marble like it was fragile.

Before he knew it, Light crawled over to Ryuzaki's lap and buried his head into the back, silky airplane-dried hair.

It smelled like soap.

"I want to go home," Light muttered, pulling a strand of black hair and twisting it around his fingers.

Ryuzaki's grip on his waist tightened and instead of trailing down and squeezing his ass, a long arm draped itself around Light's shoulder, embracing his body and pressing into it like Light was important.

Hah.

Important.

It was cute, almost, and disturbing on so many degrees at the same time; Ryuzaki, pretty much a block of ice, holding Light to his chest without any ulterior motives, not possessively or even sexually, just holding him for the sake of holding him, for the sake of making the whole situation where either of them could get a bullet through their hearts at any given moment a little less frightening for Light.

Ryuzaki was safe. He was like home.

"Tell me a secret," Light mused once the soft sobs stopped rocking his body, "anything. Tell me something you've never told anyone before."

The chest he was resting against hummed softly.

"I don't' have any secrets."

"Liar! Everyone has secrets."

"No, Raito-kun. Not me."

Liar.

Light frowned, and whatever small shift in his body that frown caused must have registered, because Ryuzaki chuckled and kissed him on the forehead, humming again.

"I can tell Raito-kun a story."

Light agreed to this by saying nothing, and somehow Ryuzaki registered that too. Just how well did the man get to know him?

Nevertheless, Light relaxed further and listened to the quiet drone of Ryuzaki's voice.

"A long time ago, a man got consumed by his own misery and died-"

Light gargled, very unintentionally, and it earned him a smack on the back.

"Raito-kun wanted a story, and he will stay quiet while I tell him the story."

"Alright, alright."

"… A long time ago, a man got consumed by his own misery and died. He was quite a talented man, and he knew he was talented and he had a lot of pride; he deemed nothing in the living world worthy of his talents. Eventually, he got bored, and it was boredom and sadness that killed him."

"He died and went to Heaven, because despite being so selfish, he did not deserve to go to Hell. In Heaven, he played his music. It was music that was his greatest talent, and so he played his violin in front of angels, and angels praised him and wanted him to teach them, but it was still the same as when he was alive: even angels seemed unworthy of hearing his talents. No, to these angels, the soul of the man was like a God."

"Meanwhile, the Devil heard about this man's soul in Heaven, and decided he could use this selfish soul to get to God. Being unable to go to Heaven himself, or in any way contact the violinist, he decided to argue with God Himself if the soul really belonged in Heaven. God listened to the Devil, heard of the corrupt soul the man had, and decided to be the judge of where the soul belonged to."

"To the soul of the man, it was finally the moment of truth. No human or angel could even compare when your audience was God Himself. The soul of the man wrote a brilliant Sonata to be played in front of God, it was challenging, it was beautiful, it made the soul of the man feel trill for the first time, and once God listened to it, He was outraged. The soul of the man was not corrupt at all, and yet it was clear the man wrote this Sonata not to please or impress God, but to show God that the soul of the man could outdo God. So as punishment, the man's soul was sent back to Earth a living person, to have the sins he will or will not commit be the determining factor where the man's soul would go, instead of the man's selfish personality."

"The Sonata itself was given a name, after which it became banned from Heaven despite its Heavenly beauty."

"Without his memory of being in Heaven, the boy grew up to be a brilliant violinist once again. This time around, he heard other violin masters and was determined to best them. His skill improved and improved, until once again, as a man, he became too full of himself."

"Meanwhile, the Devil was displeased with God's verdict. The Sonata was banned from Heaven, but it was played in Hell for Devil's personal pleasure. Devil, just like the man, decided it was not enough; he wanted the man himself to play the Sonata for the Devil. So he decided to trick the man."

"The Devil visited the man in his sleep, asking the man to teach him. Of course, having no memory of even being in Heaven, the man jumped at the opportunity of having someone as high-ranking as Devil himself be his student. The man taught the Devil many Sonatas, playing them as he did, but none of them was the Sonata forbidden by Heaven. The man simply did not remember it."

"Finally, once the man finished his lessons, he asked the Devil play something for him. Devil, not getting what he wanted, both out of revenge and mocking irony, decided to play the forbidden Sonata to the man who unknowingly wrote it."

"Needless to say, the man was stunned and awoke at once. He wrote down what he heard, but it was not good enough; compared to what the Devil played for him, it was not even close. The man tried to recreate what he heard, but never quite managed to."

"The Devil sat in Hell, listening to the inferior Sonata, angry as ever."

"The man spent his life chasing the Sonata, but never managed to get it quite right; after all he was trying to outdo the Devil, when the person he should have been trying to outdo was himself."

Light sighed, whimsically.

"Tartini is 'the man'. The sonata is Devil's Trill."

"Yes."

Light felt somehow calmer.

"Thank you for that."

"You are welcome, Raito-kun."

"What happened to the man?"

"Only masters can manage to play Devil's Trill, Raito-kun. I suppose it is one of Devil's tricks to get many violinist masters into Hell so they can play Devil's Trill for him. Anyone who plays it, goes to hell. Tartini went to hell."

"And you know this as per the intelligence Devil provided you with."

"Ah, of course."

It wasn't terribly hard to spot what Ryuzaki was getting at.

Light was the Man.

L was the Devil.

To a degree, Light saw the whole world at his feet, and once he met L, he tried to outdo him at his own craft. Light tired to kill a murderer.

And it was true. Instead of trying to beat L, Light should have been trying to beat himself; it would have made things so much easier from the start…

And still, Light had to ask, "Why'd you pick this one to tell me?"

"It is my favorite one."

The answer was anything but whatever Light was expecting, and not just that, it was an honest answer.

"Devil's Trill."

"It's kind of sad."

"It is."

"Say, can you play Devil's Trill?"

"Of course," came a smug reply and Light frowned. By the look on his face, Ryuzaki must have seen his music grades. Light played piano as long as it was required, perfectly or course, but he dropped it as soon as middle school did not have music as a mandatory anymore. If luck truly avoided Light (like it seemed), his father probably told Ryuzaki a cute story about how Light got rid of his piano at home.

Bastard.

"You're going to hell," he bit.

"Of course."

Smug bastard.

It didn't change the fact that Light did just think of his father, armed and homicidal, coming after them, and the feeling of dread Ryuzaki managed to dissolve with his story returned.

And with his father, came the memory of L, and the 3:4 score L held over Ryuzaki.

"You know what? I say fuck it. We won't L win."

"We won't?"

"No," and with that Light pressed his lips against the chapped ones, stealing a long, hard kiss. L kissed him back with concerned enthusiasm...

Ryuzaki kissed him back with concerned enthusiasm...

Yes.

It wasn't passionate. Well, it was passionate, but instead of the passion, Light imagined he tasted like desperation. Like fear. Like someone who was scared and angry, like an animal in a cage without any options but to rip off someone's hand and eat it...

"Raito-kun, not a good idea."

Light blinked. He was already straddling Ryuzaki, one of his hands clutching at the black hair, another an inch away from the half-undone side zipper on Ryuzaki's bulletproof vest. An inch away because Ryuzaki firmly held his wrist away to prevent him from undoing it further.

"I say, good idea. Take it off."

"Raito-kun, we are-"

"About to be ambushed, yeah I know. I want sex."

"Now?"

"Yes, now."

"It's a bulletproof vest, Raito-kun. It stops bullets. Ambush, remember?"

"So? If my dad storms in here first, he'll kill us both, no matter what position we are in. If L comes, he'll... well, rip your dead body out of me. SWAT... I don't know, are SWAT people allowed to have cellphones? I figure they'll take pictures or something..."

While ranting, Light made a few very good attempts at L's vest, unzipping the thing three quarters of the way down. It was a small victory, so what if he had Ryuzaki trapped under himself unfairly.

Finally, the man pushed him away and Light's behind connected with the concrete unpleasantly.

Great. Injuries to his ass already, even before he got fucked.

Just great.

"Come on, Ryuzaki."

"Raito-kun, we have no more than five minutes."

Light eyed him then.

"You can do it!" he encouraged.

Ryuzaki scoffed, but Light knew himself to be a very convincing bastard.

Finally, Ryuzaki said, "Alright, fine. Take your pants off, Raito-kun-"

"No."

"No?"

"No. Unacceptable. I don't want a quick fuck. I want that love you were talking about. I want us sweaty, naked and pressed against each other. I want vanilla."

"Vanilla sex in five minutes, Raito-kun?" Light had absolutely no erection. Nor did Ryuzaki.

"Yes."

Nothing.

"I want that love you were talking about, Ryuzaki."

A sigh, a chaste kiss, unzipping of the vest, heavy drop, unzipping of the SWAT shirt.

"Come here."

Light dropped his own getup and nearly flew back to the man's lap and kissed him, satisfied at the skin contact between their chests. Ryuzaki had the smoothest skin, gently toned chest and stomach ; his 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 Ryuzaki's natural scent made it alright...

"Ah..." he kissed the man hard, desperate to get whatever he could in the short time they had; cool fingertips ghosted over his nipple and hands tangled in hair and something heavy fell a few feet away from them and they jumped apart like they stung each other.

A beer can rattled as it rolled away from Light's foot.

They sighed in relief.

Ah.

Who was he kidding?

They couldn't do it.

He was crying again.

Ryuzaki tried to touch his face again, but Light smacked his hand away. The man sighed and redressed, and he was reaching for the vest when Light jumped up and stomped his foot, leaving startling him.

"God damn it!"

Cans and bottles flew away, clearing out of the path of Light's foot.

"Damn it all!"

"Rait-"

"No, I don't want to shut up! Fuck it all to hell, what the fuck-"

"Raito-"

"What the fuck did I do to deserve this? Huh? You tell me, what did I do?"

"You did nothi-"

"No, I fucking apparently did something, otherwise this shit wouldn't've happened to me!"

"Raito-kun, it isn't your fault." Ryuzaki looked at his feet, like those steel-toe boots he had a grudge against for the past fourty-something hours were suddenly the answer to all their dilemmas, like the boots were more important to look at than Light's face.

"Look at me when I'm talking to you!"

The mop of silky black hair snapped at the order, and hell if Ryuzaki could pull off looking like a guilty cat.

"God damn it, it's all about you, isn't it? I will be there for Raito-kun, I'll go along with this ridiculous plan that'll get me killed for Raito-kun, I love Raito-kun… have you fucking considered how I feel?-"

Fuck anti-depressants. Fuck pills.

"-No, no you haven't."

A grimace spoiled the face of the man in front of Light, but it wasn't anger that pressed his eyes into narrow slits, no, it was the alarming rate at which Light was backing up towards the unfinished, windowless, wall-less side of the building.

The part of the building where there was no wall between the innards and the open air of the outside. No wall to block any fall.

Ryuzaki made a grab for him, but Light anticipated the grab, and he nearly danced away from Ryuzaki's grabby fingers to the edge where the floor ended.

High.

The fall would be five stories high.

And there was sharp rubble at the end of it.

Death.

"You know the only difference between you and L that made me drop my whole entire premise just like that, overnight?"

"Raito-kun, please get back here."

"Nah, I don't think I will."

"Raito-kun-"

"Don't you know? You have a face, and a name to go with it, you don't hide behind a stupid letter, you do whatever the fuck you want to whomever you want. And then you dare to look at me the morning after, and I see your face, and I hate you in the morning…"

"…"

" And L is gone, just like that, like it never happened. He doesn't remind me he owns me with his stupid face. You do. You stalk me and follow me and I see your face every day. Do you know how much your 'love' hurts?"

"Raito-kun, get back here."

"In that respect, you know what? I wish you were L."

"Raito-kun, take my hand now."

"...Then you wouldn't want me to return your stupid affection, then you'd just know I just need use you to survive, and you'd be just fine with that. Can't you be fine with that?"

Ryuzaki hadn't moved much, and though Light was sure he heard and considered every piece of the outburst, the only thing that mattered to the man right now was getting Light away from the very dangerous edge of the building.

Like hell.

"I'm jumping, fuck you!"

"Raito-kun, step away from there!"

"And you know fucking what else? That time I first met L? I was drunk, but at that stupid miniature Koi pond, you know what?"

He saw it then, the shift. The calculating gaze, a full one, not snippets and bits and pieces Light managed to see here and there, but a full, serious calculating gaze, one that counted his soul met his eyes and Light took an unconscious step back, so close to the edge the wind messed with his oversized SWAT pants.

Enough is enough…

"I tried to kill myself," Light bit, considering if the air pressure would be enough to crush his lungs mid-air.

"I know."

"What?"

"You told me I saved you from a suicide."

"What?"

"Come here, Light."

The soles of Light's steel-toed boots froze to the ground.

His lips shuddered and with wide eyes, he turned around to look at the thing behind him.

"W-what di-did you j-just say?" a whisper left his lips, though he never ordered such words to be spoken.

"Light, come on, take my hand."

A hand, an outstretched hand, for him, for Light, welcoming him to take it, take it and go away to safety, but the man whom that hand belonged to...

The man... whom that hand... belonged… to...

"No…" He shook his head, but rather than declining to take the hand, Light denied the reality altogether. "Can't be... you..."

"Light-"

"R-ryu…Ryuzaki... don't call me that, please, tell me you just… you... 'Raito-kun', you call me 'Raito-kun'..."

"Take my hand!"

"NO! You call me 'Raito-kun', goddamn you! Call me 'Raito-kun', Ryuzaki! YOU ARE RYUZAKI, DAMN IT!!! He calls me 'Light', YOU FUCKING CALL ME FUCKIN' 'RAITO-KUN' OR-"

A feeling boiled deep inside Light's gut.

"No,-"

A feeling...

"-I call you-"

Hysteria.

"-Light."

"You... you aren't Ryuzaki..."

"I-" the hand in front of him, just feet in front of him, the safe hand suddenly looked poisonous and filthy…

"I trusted you…" Could he even hear him? Light's numb lips barely moved and almost no sound made it out of his mouth, and yet somehow the man in front of him looked almost... hurt...

"Light..."

Not good enough.

"No, you aren't..."

"I am."

He has to say it.

"No!"

"I am, Light just take my hand!"

"Why the fuck should I?" Light stepped back and his heels now hung off the edge of the concrete. The ground was a long way down, maybe it would be easier just to take a step back and…

"I will make you safe!"

"I don't believe you, and you aren't him!"

"I am him, just take my hand!"

Just.

"DON'T CALL ME THAT, YOU AREN'T HIM!"

Say.

"For God's sake Light-"

It.

"I am L! ...Just please step away from there and take my hand!"

Ah.

Countless pairs of invisible hands clapped together in applause that filled the empty room; Light could almost hear them, noisy, encouraging, powerful, and everywhere, announcing his victory. Congratulating Light with a brilliant performance.

Light felt safe.

Serene.

Calm, like nothing in the world will ever bother him again.

"Your love confessions mean nothing but your ability to say words, L."

"I love you, Light."

"I know."

Out of the corner of his eye, Light saw the ground, five stories beneath his feet, saw the rubble of broken timber and metal scraps that would puncture a hole though him if the five stories of flight didn't do the job.

He saw L reaching out for him, to take his hand and pull him away from danger…

Ryuzaki...

Ryuzaki was L.

Light knew this.

He knew it.

Not deep inside.

Not because he suspected it.

No.

He knew it.

Through the whole thing.

He knew L was L the day they drank wine naked on the floor, the moment they got into the black vans, during the switches, during the ambush, in his father's car, in the building… Light knew L was L.

Because he finally figured it out.

12. 12.

R. R.

Ryuzaki Rue is L.

The wind gusted between his legs, slightly swaying him backwards, but he stood his ground, just staring into L's begging eyes.

'Don't jump.'

'I'll take care of everything.'

'Just let me take you away. '

L was telling the truth.

It was Light who lied that day. He lied about many things.

How he didn't know about his father going berserk, or being ready to die, or how he wanted Ryuzaki to be L.

He lied about another thing.

He didn't want sex. He just wanted L's bulletproof vest off.

And L didn't see it coming, his black, round eyes Light found exotic went wide, almost comically like that first time Light brushed his soft, tangled hair and they had sex for hours to the sound of the rain... or that time Light screamed into a pillow in frustration and L thought he was trying to suffocate himself... or the last time he'd given Ryuzaki an open invitation to fuck him into a ground, and instead L made love to him...

Ryuzaki loved him, L loved him…

Light knew that this for the first time in his miserable, worthless and hollow existence, a man known as L finally found someone he could love, possibly even give up everything precious to him just for Light to return his love...

That's why he didn't see it coming when he realized Light lied about the gun.

About the gun he said he threw into a sewer.

Light pulled out that gun.

He didn't need to aim; L was very close.

So he stretched out his arm to where L held out his hand for Light to hold onto.

And shot L.

In the chest.

Point-blank.

A/N: Well? Who saw this coming? Who didn't? Tell me what you guys think; it's actually crucial you review at this point (even if it's just 'Nooooooooo!!!') THANK YOUS GO TO EVERYONE WHO REVIEWED. I LOVE YOU!

L: Holy fuck…

Light: …

A/N: You guys really need to press that damn magic review button. Do it please. King needs you to do it... tell me if you're still alive. Don't kill yourselves just yet... by the way, no, this isn't the final chapter. But shit finally makes sense, no?

L: Holy fuck...

Light: …hurts, doesn't it?

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