January 26th, 2004

Unknown location

L raised an eyebrow as his laptop gave off a slight beeping noise. That was the noise that alerted him when new information had been added about someone he was watching. That, in itself, was not altogether surprising—L, as a detective, watched a lot of people in his work.

At the moment, however, he was only watching one person: Light Yagami.

The last time his computer had made that noise, it had been because Light had achieved a perfect score on the To-Oh entrance exam, received a full scholarship to the school, and been named class representative. As far as he knew, no more information should have been uploaded...

He clicked a few times, minimizing windows with grisly murder scenes and criminal profiles to pull up the new information on Light Yagami.

He had, of course, deleted all of the old information on him, but he simply... hadn't had time to delete the new alerts he received. He was very busy, after all.

L's thumb rose to his mouth as he opened the file. His dark eyes widened, and he bit, hard.

Jerking his thumb out of his mouth with a pained shake of his hand, he scrolled through the assortment of... there must have been at least forty pictures. L's mouth went dry.

Light was... beautiful. The pictures at the top of the screen were more distant, cold, but as L got further down, they became more intense. By the end, Light had been right about glaring at the camera. That was the emotion that had captured L's attention in the first place, that had been what had caused L to make that stupid, stupid promise...

L froze.

"What the hell were you thinking?" L asked his laptop, shoving it off of his lap and springing to his feet. He paced back and forth in the hotel room, glancing at the laptop in disbelief. After a few moments, he fished a well-worn piece of paper out of his pocket. As if out of habit, he ran his thumb gently over the neat lettering. Then, remembering himself, he gritted his teeth and yanked his phone out of his pocket, angrily jabbing the numbers on the slip of paper.

In Japan, Light's head popped off of his pillow, hair rumpled and looking around for his alarm clock, but it wasn't his alarm clock that was making the noise. He picked up his cell phone, confused. Unknown caller. Swallowing his fear—irrational now, he told himself—he flipped it open.

"Hello?"

"What the hell were you thinking?" Angry voice. Male. It took Light a moment to place it, and when he did he thought that perhaps he was still dreaming.

"L?"

"The most frightening killer in the world, who needs a name and a face to kill, is barely gone for a month and you have your name and face plastered everywhere for everyone to see?"

"Wha-"

"And, in case you forgot, that same psychotic killer was stalking you. Are you so eager to have another stalker that you had to go out and, and... prostitute yourself? What are you doing plastering your face all over the place? How can you do that and expect to-" L cut himself off. Expect to what?

Light was certainly awake now. "What the hell are you talking about?"

"Your pictures—a model, Light? Really? I thought you had higher aspirations than that."

"Okay, that's enough!" Light shouted into his phone. "First, I don't have to explain anything to you—I certainly don't owe you anything. How did you find out about this, anyway? Are you stalking me? If you'd done your research properly—which you seem to be making a habit of not doing your research properly—you would know that I'm just working part-time to raise money to get guard dog training for the German Shepherd that you gave me!"

"That doesn't-"

"No!" Light interrupted. "Let me finish! Where the fuck do you get off, calling me now? You promised to keep in touch, you fucking bastard, and you went and broke your fucking promise. And when you finally call me up, you act all high and mighty, scolding me for living my own fucking life, which you seem to think you have some sort of claim on! Well, I'm afraid you forfeited any claim on being involved in my life when you decided that your own interests came before your word. And now, accusing me of, what? Trying to get someone to stalk me again? Are you suggesting that I fucking liked being followed by that psychotic maniac? Living my life in fear every day?"

"I-"

"I am trying to return my life to normal by making myself as safe as possible, and if I have to put up with a few photographs to do it, then I fucking will. Now. Do you have anything else to say before I hang up on you?"

"Don't hang up on me."

"Give me one good reason."

L grimaced, thinking. Finally he forced out the words, "I'm sorry." He stuck out his tongue. Ugh, those were bitter.

Light wasn't buying it. "For what."

"For not keeping in touch. And... for suggesting that you enjoyed Kira's attentions." L added hesitantly. "That was out of line."

"But not for spying on me."

"Did you really expect anything less?" L asked tiredly, collapsing into a chair with his legs sprawled outwards for once. "You basically accused me of keeping tabs on you last time we met, after all."

"Because I had been a suspect in an investigation," Light said, disbelieving. "And I was half-joking!"

"Yes, well."

Light paused. Then, more quietly, he asked, "Why did you stop calling?"

L winced. The earlier anger was dimmed, now. That new tone in Light's voice was disappointment—and, as every child and childish person, like L, knew, disappointment was a thousand times worse than anger. "I should not have promised you that I would keep in touch."

"No, you shouldn't have," Light agreed. "Did you ever intend to keep your promise?"

"Yes," L gritted out. "I did. I wanted to."

"You didn't."

"Just for a moment, Light," L said, normally toneless voice taking on a hint of pleading, "consider it from my point of view. Four people in the world know my true name, my true identity. People are dying to kill me. Any contact I have with you is dangerous to both of us."

Light considered this. "Okay, yes. That's true. But that's not why you stopped calling, and you know it."

L sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Please, Light."

"L." Unforgiving tone.

"...I can't tell you."

"No," Light said angrily, "You won't. You won't tell me. Do you think yourself so far above us normal people that you're above explanation?"

"Light, don't-"

"No. I give up. Please," Light cleared his throat, because surely it was just a combination of exhaustion and anger that was making his voice crack like that. "Please don't call again. This phone is only for family and friends."

Light hung up. He stared for a moment at the closed phone, not quite believing the conversation he had just had. His hands shook. The phone slid from his fingers. Light slid, trembling, to the ground, unsure whether he was angry or devastated.

On the other side of the world, L tossed his cell phone at the wall. He stared as it fell to the ground, not feeling at all satisfied. He wanted to move, hit something, hit Light, kiss Light-

"God damn it!" He shoved the tea tray off of the table. Kicked it. The glass shattered. After a moment he registered blood pouring from his feet and stilled. Slowly, he curled up into his near fetal position. He fell on his side, feeling broken glass digging into his side. "God damn it..."