May 28, 2011
8:18:42 PM
To his credit, Light wasn't completely rude towards his nemesis.
"Hello, Ryuzaki," he replied with a bit of a sneer. Light began to move slowly around the room, like he was a vulture and L was a piece of dead meat. Knowing Light and his ego, he has doubtlessly decided something similar should be the outcome.
Too bad.
L, sitting on the hospital bed in the center of Light's circling movements, watched his every step. "Pardon me," he said, glaring, "but that isn't my name."
Light paused in his rhythmic movement and pretended to find the wall interesting for a moment. "Ah, yes: forgive my old habit of calling you by a fake name, L," he practically snarled.
"You're forgiven for that, Kira," L shot back.
His words were empty.
The war was silently being declared. For the first time, it wasn't Light Yagami against Ryuzaki in a battle to uncover the other's identity; it was L against Kira-and winning meant living.
The masks were off. The façade was stripped.
Someone was going to die that night.
"Oh, honestly: you shouldn't address me like that," Light said softly, faking with his tone that he had been hurt. He began circling again. "I'm your friend, remember?"
Light kept circling, and neither of them dared to look away. To break eye contact was to lose any advantage. Someone has to make a move.
"Do friends kill each other?" L asked, feigning innocence.
Light frowned deeply. "Is that what you're worried about? That I killed you?"
"No," L admitted, "I'm more worried about what Mido-san will say when he comes back down here and finds your blood on the floor."
A sick grin slid comfortably onto Light's face. He continued circling L. "That's a vain hope, I'm afraid. It isn't going to happen."
L shrugged, as if indifferent. "What can I say? You started it, after all, so I'm just going to have to finish it."
"You wonder why I started it instead of making the second move?" Light asked. "Because you never win on the defensive side of the field."
Then it happened at exactly 8:22:13 PM.
Light-almost out of nowhere-pulled out his Death Note and began to scribble in it furiously. In that same second, L launched himself off the bed and knocked Light to the ground with most of the strength he had.
The notebook barely touched L's hand, but it was enough. It went skidding across the floor out of Light's reach. "Dammit!" he screamed.
L punched him before he could speak again.
Needless to say, Light retaliated and punched back.
It was an all-out brawl. The two of them had fought before, but not with the fury they did there in the basement. There were no handcuffs restricting them, or doubts to soften the blows. Countless hits and kicks later, Light seemed to be losing energy, and L kicked him a final time in the chest. There was a satisfying crunch.
"Damn... you... Kira," L murmured. With no small amount of effort, he stood up.
"Whoa! What happened here?"
L turned around and nearly screamed. A giant black monster stood there, his neck tilted at an impossibly awkward angle to look at the detective. Is this Ryuk? It very well could be: I did touch the notebook, and so should be-
L stopped thinking suddenly, because just then he realized he'd made a fatal mistake.
He'd turned away, and therefore had taken his eyes off of Light.
It had only been for a second, but that had been long enough. Light had managed to sweep his legs around despite having probably broken a few ribs, and he swung them with enough force to knock L down. With a stumble, L fell over backward and hit his head on the side of the concrete wall. His vision began to blur around the edges and he felt almost like he was going to lose conciousness.
No.
Not yet.
But it was too late: Light was already reaching across the floor for the Death Note, and-slowly and deliberately-he wrote down eight English letters. L didn't have the strength to stop him.
No.
"No!"
"Yes!" Light hissed. He turned the notebook to allow L to see exactly what he had written.
L Lawliet
The time was 8:25:20 PM on May 28, 2011.
By the time 8:26 came, L would be dead.
The human whose name is written in this notebook shall die.
It was inevitable.