Rating, warnings and no. of words (for fics): R (M for part 2), nuclear apocalypse, 1781 words (this part)
It’s day thirty-eight. The air is yellow and L is still not back.
Light sips his coffee. There isn’t much else to do. The monitors have been blank ever since the bomb hit, and the back-up generator hasn’t brought them back online. Venturing beyond the control room in search of a fix has been deemed inadvisable.
So, this is where they’ve holed up. This bland square space filled with non-functioning tech is all that’s available to them. Light considers his good luck, in spite of it all. Of all the places to be when nuclear warfare breaks out, L’s stupid ostentatious building had turned out to be a godsend. Radiation-resistant walls. The backup generator whirs along and keeps the lights on and the kettle working. A water filter, for L’s million cups of tea. Gas masks.
The only exit to the room is the exit to the building. L goes out to get supplies. Mostly other people’s radios and televisions he’s deconstructed. They don’t need food, for now - the kitchen is well-stocked, and Light has drawn up a plan for rations, just in case. Neither of them suffers easily from cabin-fever. Light learned that about himself during his fifty days’ confinement. As for L, Light wonders if his stint at university was his first time out of doors.
Light takes another sip of coffee. The handcuff chain clinks against the arm of his chair.
Ah, yes. Those. Light had really, really hoped he’d seen the back of those.
L had disillusioned him the first day he’d decided one of them would need to go outside.
—
“Kira cannot be trusted on his own.”
Light had stared at the twin loops dangling from L’s crabbed, pinched thumb and forefinger. He’d pushed down the urge to scream.
“We proved my innocence. You stared at those rules for hours and you couldn’t think of a loophole.”
“I think we’re beyond proof now, Kira-kun. Hold out your arm.”
“I am not Kira. It is impossible for me to be Kira. The policemen of my country have determined that I am innocent. I don’t have to do anything you say.”
L sighed. Light laughed. The sound was sharp and echoing in the metal box they now called home.
“You must be overjoyed, now it’s just the two of us. Nobody can stop you tormenting me now. It was never really about proof, was it? You know I didn’t do it, and that’s why you’re out to get me - because I showed you up. I showed everyone The Great L was wrong. You want to punish me for not being Kira.”
L’s jawline twitched. It was the first time Light had seen an emotion force its way onto his face.
“I went easy on you before, Light.” There is no pleasure on L’s plain, tired face; only immovable dislike. “During our fistfights. A trained martial artist versus a teen with a handful of high-school boxing lessons under his belt? Don’t fool yourself into thinking we were evenly matched. If I’d fought back with no care to your safety, I would have done you a serious injury. Now, I could spend the next few hours laying out why you are Kira, and why those rules in the Death Note are fake, and how you have engineered this situation to provide yourself an alibi. But I am tired, and we are out of time. Hold out your arm.”
Light laughed again. It was hard to hold back, in this new ruined world. His laugh rolled around and around the room.
He refused.
It was a miscalculation.
—
That was weeks ago.
Light rubs his jaw with the hand not holding coffee. It still twinges when he presses too hard.
In the end, he can’t stop L doing what he wants. A small light of rage burns within him, replenishing every time he looks at L, every hour he spends tied to this chair. But it isn’t defeat, not really. L is just as trapped as he is.
Footsteps sound in the corridor outside.
Whenever L comes back, Light has a shameful urge to prick up his ears and lean towards the entrance, like a dog. He only does it because nothing else happens here. But for an instant that flame of rage gets directed at himself, for feeling anything at L’s comings and goings. Light’s priority is to ensure he stays alive and L dies, and the latter will happen as soon as the former is assured.
The door sweeps open, and a yellow astronaut steps into the room.
The astronaut places a backpack carefully on the ground. It straightens up and removes its helmet. Underneath is L’s head, smaller than usual with his body covered in bulky hazmat-wear.
Light lets out a breath. He hates the feeling of relief creeping up inside him. If L became a shambling radiated zombie, or got his head bashed open by some desperate person, Light’s only reason to mourn would be for his own odds of survival.
“You were gone overnight. I was worried,” he said out loud.
L starts to wriggle out of the hazmat suit. No doubt it’ll be left in a pile on the floor until the next trip. “Apologies, Light. I found an office that was still accessible on the ground floor. It made sense to work through the night.” Just as Light knew he would, he discards his suit on the ground like an old skin. L crouches on the floor and unzips the backpack.
“Well, I’m glad you’re alive. I could do with another coffee when you’ve got a moment.” Light watches L pull bits of deconstructed computer out of the backpack. Unusually for him, he has remembered Light’s request for more toothpaste. A bright pink, half-empty bottle of shampoo, obviously stolen from some teenage girl’s bathroom, is crammed at the bottom. And so are… condoms.
Light blinks as L lays the little box on the floor with the other personal items. Definitely condoms. There’s no reason Light would hallucinate that.
“That’s a little presumptuous,” he says.
L lifts his huge eyes. His dark circles are worse than ever. If he stayed up all of last night, Light calculates he must be nearing hour eighty without sleep.
“It is still possible there are other survivors. In case we end up accommodating more people, I am trying to prepare as broad a range of supplies as possible. These don’t expire for another five years, so that gives us plenty of time.”
Light wants to laugh, but he feels too exasperated. “L, quite besides the fact that no-one else in Tokyo is likely to have been inside, effectively, a nuclear bunker when a bomb was dropped on them with no warning -”
“Breathe, Light,” L mutters.
“- And besides the fact that we now live in a single room, which while spacious, does not provide for privacy or sound-proofing -” Light does pause for breath at that point. L inspires a lot of run-on sentences - “I doubt anyone with the dubious luck of being alive in this hell on earth has sex on their mind.”
“Oh well. I’ll put them with the spare batteries.” L sets the condoms aside.
Light watches him as he sorts through the guts of the computers he’s shredded. He feels vaguely rattled, though he doesn’t know why. It isn’t just because he spent the night chained to a chair, while L was apparently raiding strangers’ night stands for sex aids.
“You’re lying to me,” he says, half to himself.
L’s nimble fingers stop sorting bits of metal. Light’s always found them interesting to watch, the strange crabbed way L holds them at odds with their dexterity. They remind him of spindly pale insects he once saw in a nature documentary.
“I regret, due to the nature of my work, I am frequently lying to you, Light-kun. As ever, I pray you won’t take it personally.”
“Oh, spare me,” Light snaps. “It’s the goddamn apocalypse. Nobody has a job any more.”
The words surprise him. The concept of an apocalypse feels straight out of comic books. It’s not a word he would normally reach for. Still, he realises that this is how it feels. Not just that Tokyo has ended, but the world has.
His New World has died, right when he’d begun to shape it for the better.
L gives him a look, but doesn’t comment on his odd word choice. “As far as I am concerned, L is a job for life. It’s not as if I was drawing a salary. I am still working a case, even as the circumstances I am working in become… highly irregular.”
“Ah, the case.” Light rolls his eyes and tips his chair back. “Some might call it selfish to fixate on catching one murderer when millions are dead and the world is in shambles.”
“What an abrupt change in Light-kun’s attitude.” L’s voice is sharp. “I recall you giving me a black eye the last time I lost focus on the Kira case.”
“Well, what can I say. Statistically, Kira is probably dead. And if not, he must be having a job locating new victims at the moment.” Light sets his empty cup down on the ground. His eye catches the condom packet and he almost loses his train of thought. “But far be it for me to question your priorities, L. One: acquire as much junk as you can carry. Two: provide for the sex lives of hypothetical guests. Three: chain up the one person who could help you and call them a murderer. Four -”
L drops the bit of piping in his hand to the tiled floor. The crash rings throughout the room.
Light almost jumps out of his skin. He stares from the pipe on the ground to L’s tightly drawn mouth.
“Light. Shut up.”
Light’s mouth snaps shut. He has never seen L lose his temper.
L resumes picking through his stack of parts, while Light’s brain whirs into overtime. It is the condoms that’s bothering him. L’s explanation makes no sense. And everything he does is calculated. Dropping them in front of Light like that… it was a provocation.
The conclusion drops neatly into Light’s head like the answer to a test. He smiles.
“You’re lonely,” he says.
L pauses. He doesn’t look up.
Light’s voice brims with satisfaction. “You’re afraid you’re going to die. So you’re hoping for a pity-fuck.”
L still says nothing. Light doesn’t need him to. His smile widens.
They spend the rest of the hours until bed in silence. Light doesn’t get his coffee. He doesn’t care. The triumph burning inside him, for once, is enough to drown the anger.
Kira is taken down early on, and Light is reborn as a young Shinigami who remembers nothing of what he once was. L is the one to gain ownership of his notebook, and together, they relearn what it means to be human.
Kira is taken down early on, and Light is reborn as a young Shinigami who remembers nothing of what he once was. L is the one to gain ownership of his notebook, and together, they relearn what it means to be human.
Prompt: Coffee shop banter (This turns out to be an AU involving coffee shops and proceeds from bickering to banter… eventually. :p)
Characters: Main - Light Yagami, L Lawliet; secondary - Touta Matsuda, Hideki Ide; more making an appearance or being mentioned
Rating, warnings and no. of words (for fics): General; no warning unless you count s l o o o o w buildup; 7048
Hear, Heart, the Beat of Goodnight
‘Here’s hope that tomorrow you’ll realise coffee-making is a human art. Someone who just relies on a cheap, lifeless machine cannot become a real coffee master.’
‘Mind how you talk about My Wammy’s invention. He made a name with his coffee in London long before your father was born. I’ve been learning from the best since the age of ten.’
*
No one could explain why the two cafés at the twelve-level Heartbeat shopping mall were both located on the same floor with less than five metres distance between them. Nor did anyone know why there had to be two open cafés selling coffees and muffins when there was not even a proper restaurant in the shopping complex.
The arrangement simply did not sound reasonable business-wise, but it must be said that the owners of Kira Kira Café and Wammy’s Coffee Corner were very kind people and had always wished the other café the best form of peace.
‘Rest in peace’.
Their wishes gained a new fervour when Investigation, the town’s best-selling newspaper, published the following article:
EXCLUSIVE:
Heartbeat revamp post-Yotsuba purchase
Add bistro, cut café
Kira Kira Café and Wammy’s Coffee Corner have long been the only choices for hungry shoppers at the labyrinth that is Heartbeat. The lack of diversity has been the complaint of many. NOT ANYMORE! Your faithful Investigators, Shuichi Aizawa and Kanzo Mogi, are able to confirm the upcoming addition of a gourmet restaurant in the town’s largest shopping mall. Yotsuba Corporation, the new owner of Heartbeat, has plans to improve…
… ‘We don’t want two similar cafés. One is perfectly enough and the other will be replaced by Yotsuba Gourmet, which will provide more seats and a larger variety of food choices with increased space and investment.’ Arayoshi Hatori, Yotsuba’s Vice President of Marketing, claimed the land owner will decide which café needs to say goodbye in the next month. ‘Quality and popularity are essential criteria for consideration when we make plans for any premises under Yotsuba’s wing.’
Who will stay and who will fade? Our fellow Investigators will be checking on the ‘quality’ and ‘popularity’ of Kira Kira Café and Wammy’s Coffee Corner in this upcoming month. The battle is on. Stay tuned to see who will survive!
‘Worthless paper. As if they actually had any influence on Yotsuba’s decision.’ At Kira Kira Café, Teru Mikami closed his issue of Investigation muttered contemptuously.
‘Light, what should we do?’ Misa Amane asked.
With hearts in their eyes, she and Kiyomi Takada (the newest of the four full-time workers) watched Light Yagami, the handsome owner of Kira Kira Café in his late twenties, rest his chin on the back of one hand while contemplating an answer. ‘A newspaper may not influence Yotsuba directly, but it can influence the public, and consumers’ opinion may affect our business and shape Yotsuba’s opinion.’ Light reasoned. ‘I wonder how Investigation is planning to do this ‘checking’. Anyhow, we have to…’
‘A wise business decision. I’ve always thought there’s no need for two coffee shops so close to each other.’ On the other side of Heartbeat 3/F, Nate River of Wammy’s Coffee Corner offered his very sensible comment regarding the Yotsuba Corporation’s business plan.
‘And that’s all you have to say? That it’s good we’re facing a survival crisis right now?’
Nate took a little time to play his hair (which, for some reason, was white despite his young age) before responding, ‘… there won’t be a crisis if we win, Mihael.’
Mihael Keehl sprang up and Mail Jeevas, who was sitting next to him, yelped in pain when Mihael’s left shoulder haphazardly bumped into his right arm.
But before Mihael could open his mouth, the last and eldest participant in this conversation spoke. ‘We should make Wammy’s as popular as possible, serving the best coffee and snacks we can. Let the reporters and other people “check on” us and attest to our superiority over Kira Kira. Anyhow, we have to…’ The dark bags under his eyes might have made another person look exhausted, but they totally failed to hide the sharpness in L Lawliet’s gaze towards the ‘enemy’s territory’.
Neither café had walls and L’s unfriendly regard soon met its rival in Light’s intense glare. Neither person bothered to greet or acknowledge the other’s existence in any way.
‘… we have to send them packing.’
*
‘I saw that Mrs Yagami was very interested in Wammy’s seven types of latte this afternoon, but was too polite to actually ask.’
‘She was just interested in the drawings on your banner. And that wasn’t even your own doing. You just asked that Linda girl whom River knows to draw for you.’
‘But can’t Master Kira Kira actually keep mama’s attention with his own coffee?’
‘She just happened to look around when I talked with my sister. And I should mention that Sayu doesn’t drink coffee except those that I make. She hates everything that’s on sale elsewhere but begs me to make her café au lait every day in high school. That’s why I began making coffee and getting better day by day at such a young age.’
*
Same as many people who visited Heartbeat for the first time, the two men ogled at Kira Kira Café on their left and Wammy’s Coffee Corner on their right, seemingly unsure which way they should head for.
‘Hey, since these two cafés have to kill the other if they want to stay after the revamp, what d’you think they’ll do? Maybe wage a price war?’ The slightly taller man wore his large rucksack in the front instead of at the back, and although he was busy searching for something inside the bag’s main pocket, it did not hinder his passion for gossip.
The other man, shorter but with shoulders a little broader, did not carry a bag but had a digital camera around his neck—a tourist?—and he was quick at dismissal. ‘No, that’d just look desperate… What are you looking for?’
Staggering as he dug into the rucksack aggressively, the taller man collided with two other walkers (who entered Kira Kira and Wammy’s, respectively) before answering, ‘I can’t find my pen… where is it?’
‘Mind you don’t drop anything or bump into more people.’
The banal exchange would have completely escaped everyone’s attention—no one would have cared enough to question why a tourist would need a pen in the middle of a shopping mall—but all was changed when a 91 mm × 55 mm piece of paper chose this exact moment to leap out of the rucksack. Its spectacular consecutive somersaults would put most Olympic gymnasts to shame, but what truly captured the audience’s attention was the large, red logo blazoned on it. When it finally landed on the corridor between the two coffee shops, there was no mistaking what it was.
The signature magnifying glass printed on every issue of Investigation.
Reacting as quickly as he could, its owner stooped and covered the logo with one palm. He then cautiously picked it up, confirmed that the name Touta Matsuda was still attached to the other side of the card (as if it could run away), and slipped it back into his rucksack.
When he stood up, Matsuda gave a tentative thump-up to his fellow Investigator, but Hideki Ide rolled his eyes and muttered, ‘Fool, you immediately trying to cover the logo just makes us more suspicious! If anyone has seen it, we can’t even pretend to have just received the business card from a random reporter!’
Matsuda shuddered. ‘But we’re supposed to be “secret customers”… well, no one has been looking, right?’
If anyone had really been looking, it would have been easy to recognise the card’s prominent logo—the corridor was very narrow and there was nothing between it and either café, after all. Gulping at the dangerous prospect, Matsuda looked around nervously.
A bespectacled, stern-looking waiter in Kira Kira was busy talking to a customer (answering queries?), while a lanky boy wearing a pair of goggles and looking like he had just entered adulthood was cleaning a desk in Wammy’s. None of them had actually noticed his business card giving a gymnastic performance, right?
‘Let’s hope so. Anyway we should start. Which one should we try first? And I still have no idea how we’re going to visit two coffee shops in one afternoon without arousing suspicion.’
‘Don’t worry about looking suspicious all the time, or you’ll look even more suspicious!’
‘And who just did the most suspicious thing not a minute ago?’
‘Ahem.’ Both Matsuda and Ide jumped. Amid their whispered argument, they had not noticed the approach of the goggled waiter from Wammy’s. ‘Sorry. Is there anything I can help? Maybe you’d like a cuppa coffee? We’ve got excellent cappuccino.’
One hand gesturing towards Wammy’s invitingly, Mail put his other hand on Matsuda’s shoulder and began leading the two ‘tourists’ to the entrance.
Matsuda and Ide had no choice but to walk in. They missed Mail feigning holding a magnifying glass at their back, but certainly could not miss the barista who looked like he had not slept for a year, who had seen Mail’s signal and who then proceeded to recommend Wammy’s various kinds of espresso to the two undercover reporters.
They ordered the recommended cappuccino and were seated at a pair of black and white single seater sofas. The drinks arrived quickly, but the coffee mugs had not even touched their lips when a chirpy female voice reached their table.
‘What’s so special about cold brew coffee, then?’
Matsuda and Ide’s attention was immediately caught by Misa who, though wearing a waitress uniform, was sitting on a red plush chair just next to the entrance of Kira Kira Café, with a glass of cold coffee in her hand. She asked her question in a raised voice, ensuring that everyone at Wammy’s could hear her every word clearly.
So did the person who replied to Misa. ‘Cold brew coffee is made by steeping coffee ground in cold water. Compared to iced coffee which is just hot coffee cooled down, cold brew coffee is sweeter, less bitter and more mellow on the stomach. Since it doesn’t need ice to cool the coffee, it is also less watery. This is another important factor why cold brew tastes so good!’
L narrowed his eyes at the sight of Light Yagami answering Misa Amane’s (undoubtedly staged) question with a smug smile on his face. The young owner of Kira Kira Café had stepped out of his usual spot behind the barista table, leaving Teru Mikami (who had finished his conversation with the customer) to perform pouring some precious cold brew into glasses as ostentatiously as possible.
‘Cold brew takes a long time to prepare. That’s why it’s usually more rare and expensive, but Kira Kira Café has developed its own unique way to make cold brew coffee efficiently and at a low cost. It is the only place in the entire Heartbeat plaza where you can taste this delicacy!’ With a grandiose arm movement, Light concluded his pompous speech, drawing applause from Misa, all other women and a couple of men in Kira Kira and—to L’s annoyance—one of the Investigation reporters at the other side of the aisle.
‘Matsuda, what’re you doing?’ Even Ide could not suppress a grimace.
‘He’s such a good speaker! I wish I could speak that well too!’ Matsuda finally tasted the cappuccino in front of him, but his unfocused gaze suggested cold brew fantasies. L just wished he could steep the reporter (and the entire Kira Kira Café) in Antarctica for a cup of cold brew malignance.
Taking after Light’s example (not that L would admit it), L slid out of Wammy’s barista station and made his way towards Matsuda and Ide. Nate caught on immediately, exchanged a high five with L and went to fill in.
It took less than five seconds for L to reach the reporters’ table. ‘Actually you can make cold brew at home as well. What you need is just time, not any elaborate equipment. It’s not that difficult. There’re plenty of recipes on the Internet you can google.’ He spoke in a low voice because unlike someone, he did not need to be heard by people in the opposite shop.
He took a second to smile innocently at The Someone (earning a death glare in return). Then, to the shock of his audience, he shook his shoes off and stepped onto a grey single seater. Crouching in his seat, he placed the objects in his hand (which Nate had just given him in their high five) on the table—a few coffee beans and a miniature coffee machine.
‘A lot of coffee tastes bitter due to a lack of precision in grinding and brewing. Coffee making is about science, especially in the case of espressos. The mixture of coffee beans and the exact time to grind them—you don’t want to grind for ten seconds too short or too long because that may destroy the beans’ flavour and aroma.’ L dangled two coffee beans right in front of Matsuda and Ide, the faint chocolatey smell getting stronger as he waved his fingers slightly. ‘But Wammy’s has long perfected the best formula for that. The heat and pressure to exert through an espresso machine also requires deliberate calculation, but thanks to the innovation of Wammy’s founder, Mr Quillsh Wammy…’
L droned on. Though perhaps not as charming as Kira Kira’s young and handsome boss, he successfully caught Matsuda’s attention with the semi-functional miniature espresso machine, and the reporter’s eyes shone with wonder when the tiny buttons clicked and buzzed under L’s command. Ide, who had been grumpy from the beginning, hid his face with one hand. He did not want to look at his naïve companion.
‘Feel free to ask me any questions.’ L concluded his demonstration with a small smile. ‘I don’t mind providing whatever information you’ll need for writing your article. There’s no point in pretending you’re not from Investigation any longer, I think.’
Ide added another hand. He did not want to look at this world.
*
‘Don’t talk when you know nothing! Kira Kira Café is so much more than “an amateur playhouse”. Since the day I was old enough to board a plane on my own, I’ve travelled with every penny I owned to learn about different coffees around the world!’
‘Weren’t you hospitalised for “drinking too much coffee” one day in Paris? I’m sure that’s quintessential professionalism.’
‘That was not for drinking too much coffee. That was for drinking poorly-made, unhygienic coffee! And you can bet I’ve put all the lesson I learnt into Kira Kira’s operation. Unlike you, who couldn’t even properly remember when you’ve heard the other day.’
*
‘The mall is going to close in fifteen minutes. Mind the time, Yagami-san!’
‘Thank you, sir. Leaving soon!’
‘The mall is going to close in fifteen minutes. Mind the time, Lawliet-san!’
‘Thanks.’
The security guard walked away while Light wiped the last water droplet off the coffee funnel. After placing both the cloth and the funnel back to their usual places, he took off his apron and grabbed his belongings, preparing to leave.
Save for the very rare days when he enjoyed a holiday, he was always the last to leave. The third floor of the Heartbeat shopping mall was almost totally silent and empty.
Except for The Enemy, the perpetual pest, of course.
Though L was acting strange. He strode out of Wammy’s, walking quickly but also deliberately keeping quiet, eyes scanning for something. He kept putting a hand behind one of his ears while circulating Wammy’s, but Light did not understand what he could be listening for—they were the only two people on the third floor now, and the faint rustling sounds they made certainly did not deserve special attention.
Apparently L did not find what he wanted to, because when he emerged from the back of Wammy’s again, he was actually heading for the other coffee shop, a most suspicious expression on his face.
Light hastened to block him when he was deemed too near Kira Kira Café. ‘What do you want?’ Light asked, clearly not welcoming the trespasser.
L blinked at the question. After looking around and then trying to stare behind Light (who tried his best to prevent that), he finally spoke. ‘Didn’t you hear anything?’
Despite looking somewhat serious, this guy was utterly full of crap. ‘I only heard whatever sounds you’ve been making.’ Light folded his arms and straightened himself, hoping he came off as intimidating. ‘And?’
L stared and looked around again, but to no avail. ‘Nothing.’ He finally deadpanned and returned to Wammy’s.
Now it was Light’s turn to become suspicious. He paid extra attention to L’s movement at the same time as he prepared to leave, but nothing happened.
L was also leaving. He usually left at the same time as Light—just before the security guard locked the mall entrances. Light had the nagging suspicion that L sometimes hid and slept in the mall at night, but he never had any proof. He just did his best to make sure L could not break into Kira Kira without him finding out (which was a difficult task because both cafés did not have doors or walls, but he had many tricks in his pocket).
L leaving the building meant Light did not have to worry about being sabotaged, but it did not automatically make his way home more enjoyable.
Even today, he still could not fathom what unkind deity could possibly make him and L Lawliet not just operate competing businesses next to each other, but also live on the same floor in the same building. Exasperation at divine nastiness was a loyal buddy when they boarded the same orange and green one-decker every night and day, throughout their three-year tenures in Heartbeat.
The two baristas always sat at the back row, one occupying the left-most seat and the other the right-most. The ride was quiet save for the sound of motion. Only a handful of other passengers scattered in the front while an awkward silence filled the air. Light never talked to L and vice versa, each preferring to look at the neon lights and street lights that forced insomnia onto the city.
The ride took less than fifteen minutes. Silence followed their steps off the bus, at the lobby and in the lift. As the door to the lift opened, they walked towards their respective apartment along the narrow and straight corridor, salmon pink ceramic tiles dull and fatigued under pale lighting.
Light stopped in front of the second closest door to the lift, opening his bag for the keys. L passed him without saying a word.
‘Hope you sleep well tonight…’ Light’s murmur was soft and sudden, but certainly loud enough to be heard.
L looked over his shoulders.
‘…so that you won’t hallucinate non-existent voices again. Watching you do that pains me so.’ Light made sure L was looking at him before flashing a scornful smile.
‘Or maybe you’ll develop better sensitivity overnight. Difficult task, I know, but senses are essential for making passable coffee. Unlike pain, which you seem partial to but is actually useless.’ The retort was quick and L did not even put up an expression. Instead, a staring match was declared and sharp, pitch-black eyes were fixed on dark brown, almond ones.
The match was intense but short-lived. A few seconds later, Light plucked out his keys and proceeded to open the door, while L resumed the way to his apartment. Both knew to preserve their strength for the next contest because their rivalry had lasted day and night and stretched from Heartbeat to home.
If they did not win this round of sparring, there would always be another one the next night. After that, they would always board the earliest bus tomorrow and continue fighting with every cup of coffee they made. The feud had trained them well and added flavour—an unorthodox but refreshing spark of spice tinting caffeinated lives with crimson. Every night they closed their eyes to rest, they had the vision of defeating each other next day to look forward to.
But they would not be looking forward to that a month from now. Competition was now not just a game in their daily routine, but a battle of survival.
*
‘You know what? As much as you boast your knowledge of coffee to every customer, you only ever serve yourself affogato. It’s like you’re just going after the ice cream instead of the coffee. You even went for a second scoop today without the drink.’
No response was unforthcoming, only a stare.
‘I just find it hypocritical that you open a café, yet you seem not very interested in your own coffee. Skills can’t make a barista great without passion. Why don’t you open an ice cream parlour instead?’
‘It sounds like you live off coffee alone. I thought one’d die with that, but I’m obviously ignorant of alien biology.’
‘Who…’
‘And your observation skills are simply excellent. We’ve just been neighbours for three days and you already conclude that I like ice cream more than coffee. In fact, I’m just experimenting making ice cream with Wammy’s own coffee. I haven’t even eaten anything except affogato these days.’
‘…’
‘Coffee to you is just coffee, but to me it can live in anything. Revise your slogan. Passion can’t make a barista great without imagination.’
*
Under the enthusiasm (read: pressure) of the two café owners, Matsuda and Ide visited two more times and acquired more than enough materials to write in the Life section of Investigation a series of articles which, spinning the angle of competition, were actually just introducing Kira Kira Café and Wammy’s Coffee Corner to the readership. Though unskilled in masquerading themselves, the pair proved to be proficient journalists. Their appeal to ‘visit the cafés and choose the winner yourself, dear reader’ worked—three weeks saw a noteworthy increase in the customer toll of both shops.
The scythe awaited the losing shop in one week’s time, and tension and anxiety shrouded all staff members of both sides. Even without prompting, all full-time staff had opted to take no leave before they could be certain of their café’s fate. Light began to have bizarre dreams of first-class Robusta coffee beans seeking a job in employment agencies or begging for money with a coffee cup on the street.
He wondered whether his arch-enemy from Wammy’s was as dedicated to the welfare of coffee beans in his dreams, but L might not even have time for sleep these days. The number of nights Light suspected L of staying at the mall overnight had increased drastically. For nearly every day in the last two weeks, L would disappear right after the security guard’s cue call and not be seen in the last bus at night. He would also mysteriously appear at a very early time next morning without having been in the first bus, the size of his eye bags suggesting that he had slept very little or not at all. Was he hiding at Wammy’s at night, using the time when no one was in Heartbeat to invent some ‘secret weapon’ recipe?
Last night was another one like this and Light’s solitary journey to and from home was imbued with the apprehension of not knowing what L was up to. The feeling did not abate while Light, arriving at Kira Kira in the next morning just five minutes after the mall was unlocked, found L already hunched up in one of Wammy’s sofas, inspecting something tiny between his thumb and index finger.
Apprehension turned to dread as Light neared the barista station that he covered with a red cloth before leaving. One look sufficed to tell him that the creases on the cloth were different. Different from what he especially arranged every night before leaving, and different in a way that could only be caused by a human. Dread burst into scorching rage at the implication, pushing an incensed Light into Wammy’s Coffee Corner without thinking.
It was so early in the morning and no one except L was at the café, so Light found himself standing in the middle of enemy territory in no time.
L seemed to take no offense at his nemesis butting in without invitation, which in Light’s eyes confirmed his guilt. But when Light tried to grab his white, round necked T-shirt in a fit of anger, he slapped the hand away and growled threateningly.
‘I don’t know how you know, but you clearly deduced that someone has entered your shop last night after you left.’ L said, standing up and moving defensively while Light scuttled left and right for a chance to strike again. ‘And you’ve somehow decided that it was me.’
Light took two more small steps, and then halted. ‘And you’re going to deny it like the liar you are, saying that I have no proof.’ The venom in his voice might be alarming, but Light did not motion further because what he just said was technically true. That L had stayed overnight was his suspicion. Though the older barista definitely had motivation to sabotage Kira Kira, he obviously would not be stupid enough to give himself away, and Light would have to find out on his own what the other man had done. ‘You better not let me find the proof, then. Sorry for disturbing.’ Light turned away tensely, without meaning his apology.
‘The culprit did not have time to do anything, because I chased him away before he could.’
Light swung back angrily at the implication of L’s words. ‘So you admit you were here last night!’
‘And why do you think I’m admitting this to you?’
‘You somehow want to win my trust, but fabricating a trespasser is hardly believable enough to achieve what you want.’
‘Ah, but there’s not an ounce of trust in you. You’re as pressed out as the coffee beans in an espresso machine.’
Light began indignantly but L continued despite that. ‘I wouldn’t fabricate an unbelievable tale because I know it wouldn’t work. I’m only saying this because it’s the truth. I have two more things to say. The second thing is that I invite you to stay behind, starting tonight. I believe the person may come back within this week, maybe on this very night.’
‘… What? And you said “second”?’
‘The first thing is that I invite you to look at this.’ L handed Light what he was keeping in his palm all this while.
*
‘I don’t know whether I should wish that you and Keehl would make peace or wish you be rid of him. I’ve never had this problem so I don’t really understand the hardship when even your staff doesn’t agree with the way you make coffee.’
‘I don’t really understand the happiness of having to running a bunch of drooling puppets around oneself either. But I guess some people just need constant admiration from blind followers.’
‘Will you lose your voice without spitting insult on innocent people? Everyone now working full-time at Kira Kira has all been my faithful customers at one time! My staff admire me because they appreciate my coffee! Yours can’t even be paid to praise your lousy drinks.’
‘Well, if you must know, all of my full-time staff have actually been Mr Wammy’s protégés and I’m training them to open their own coffee shops one day, to spread Mr Wammy’s coffee philosophy post-mortem. Dissonance is encouraged because it helps them learn and I don’t need the world to revolve around me. And anyway, once they give their idea more thought and taste, they’ll finally realise that I’m right.’
‘… you don’t need the world to revolve around you but “they’ll finally realise that I’m right”… very convincing, absolutely inspirational…’
‘… pot calling kettle black…’
*
Light’s feet trembled slightly as they touched the vinyl flooring without the protection of shoe soles. Wearing just socks in a public area made Light feel more exposed than he actually was, and he could not help but doubt his decision to stay at the mall overnight with L.
‘Don’t give me that face. We need to be as quiet as possible as we move and your boots are too loud. Wear shoes with rubber soles next time.’
As if he could have predicted this when he chose his footwear in the morning. And as if there would be a next time.
L had studied the blind spots of the mall’s surveillance cameras and the security guard’s routines very well. Working together, the two men successfully stole two spare keys from the large set in the security office and hid in the female restroom opposite it (they knew no female guard was on duty today and decided that it was the best strategic position).
Technically, they only had to wait until all security guards locked and left the building. Guards were only stationed outside the mall at night, and when the morning came, nobody would have the interest to check the surveillance feed inside unless there was any complaint about unexplained lost or damage of property.
But something was clearly different tonight.
‘You’re right.’ Light hardly believed that such words could come out from his own mouth. Opening the restroom door very slightly, Light observed the movement—or lack thereof—outside. ‘The last guard should have left already, but he didn’t. What’s he doing in the security office?’
‘Bidding for time. And if I assume correctly, he’ll probably switch off all surveillance cameras soon. Maybe he already did, so as not to leave any evidence of his activity. I’m pretty sure the feed was switched off last night, or he would have known it was me who scared him away with those card boxes near the boutique, but he didn’t pay attention to me today, and was just generally jumpy instead. He probably thinks that “accidentally” switching off the feed for one or two nights is a much less serious crime than there being evidence of him actually sabotaging Heartbeat’s shops.’
‘But why would he do that? So now you’re not totally lying, but I still don’t see why a security guard would have motive to harm a coffee shop.’
‘Two coffee shops, I believe.’
‘Whatever. If your theory is true then it’s just…’
‘We’ll find out when we catch him in action.’
L gripped at the cufflink in his palm—the same one that he asked Light to inspect in the morning. According to L, since the time he heard odd noises before the mall closed, he had tried to stay inside at night as often as he could, hiding in a restroom from which he could detect suspicious movement around the café area, certain that Light Yagami and his cronies were plotting to strike when no one was watching over Wammy’s. Last night was not any different.
Light first scoffed at the idea that he might do something underhanded at night (how distrustful must L have been to suspect such a baseless theory?), then balked when he heard about L hiding in a restroom, and was now trying hard to ignore the irony of himself doing the exact same thing.
L’s wait had not been fruitless, but he was surprised to recognise the outline of the security uniform under the dim moonlight from the window, and even more so when the approaching person did not enter Wammy’s Coffee Corner but Kira Kira Café.
In Light’s opinion, the most dubious part in L’s story was that L, upon the ‘instinct that the trespasser was up to no good’, decided to distract the security guard by overthrowing a pile of card boxes just outside the restroom. L claimed that he assumed the guard would come to inspect what happened and planned to ambush him then, but the man was frightened away instead, and did not emerge to tidy up the card boxes until Heartbeat was ‘officially open’ again. Near a chair in Kira Kira, L discovered a cufflink that belonged to a security uniform, confirming the identity of the trespasser who had nearly tripped at the exact same spot when he ran away.
‘The good news is, if he’s that weak-kneed and clumsy, it probably won’t be that difficult to get the truth out of him, once we catch him guilty on spot.’ L concluded when he finished his tale.
Light remembered being unsure whether he should believe L. ‘… let’s say that you’re telling the truth and that he’ll really try whatever he wanted to try again tonight… why would you “invite” me?’
But for some inexplicable reason, he remembered the answer that followed even more.
‘Because you’re already making a fuss.’ L continued before Light could complain. ‘Because you’re actually not the enemy this time. And because I know you would care and work with me to stop the ploy. Because you don’t make coffee for your little sister every day and get sick in France for a security guard to harm Kira Kira Café.’
Light remembered being speechless at this explanation.
Though, at the same time, he was not that surprised. Just as L picked up on who Light Yagami was from their nightly bickering, Light also understood why L would react so drastically towards any possible threat to Heartbeat’s cafés. Because L needed coffee to honour the man who raised him. Because he cockily believed that his coffee was the embodiment of perfection (like Light). And because he had devoted his life, spirit and soul to his café (also like Light).
Light understood perfectly.
He was brought back to reality by the opening of the security office’s door. He signalled to L and the game was back on.
*
EXCLUSIVE:
HEARTBEAT CONSPIRACY
Why is the Yotsuba Corporation poisoning everyone’s favourite coffee shops?
Loyal readers of Investigation would have been aware of the ongoing epic battle between Kira Kira Café and Wammy’s Coffee Corner in the Heartbeat shopping complex—the war where only one can survive! Everyone in the city all have our idea of which café should stay after Heartbeat’s revamp, and are eagerly awaiting the Yotsuba Corporation to announce the final winner!
But what if Yotsuba does not intend there to be a winner at all?
In a bold midnight excursion, the owners of the two popular coffee shops uncovered the corporate giant’s egregious attempt to disgrace and oust both shops from the mall without incurring public backlash! Through employing a security guard!
Shocking? Yes! Preposterous? Well, we may not have believed it ourselves if we haven’t been there and seen it with our own eyes! Luckily, the café owners are as brilliant as the espressos and cold brews they make, and have actually asked us to be witnesses beforehand!
So this is it! The revelation of the Yotsuba Conspiracy! Brought to you first-hand by your faithful Investigators, Touta Matsuda and Hideki Ide!
…
Receiving Lawliet-san’s signal, we evaded the outside guards (who, unlike the inside one, were innocent, as far as we know!) and entered Heartbeat. One of the locked entrances was already opened for us, and we soon stationed at a safe spot on the third floor.
…
And it began! Unaware that everything he did was observed by FOUR pair of scrutinising eyes, the security guard unscrewed the pipe connecting to Wammy’s Coffee Corner’s espresso machine, pulled out a small packet and began to pour the content into the pipe!
Having the evidence of crime safely recorded by the Investigators’ superb night vision camera, it was time to reveal ourselves! Look at the security guard’s face when he saw light coming out from two other torches, and the two coffee shop heroes standing right behind it!
…
It took little to persuade the culprit to tell the truth. According to him, the Yotsuba Corporation regretted its announcement to keep one café operating and wanted its new bistro, which would be directly run by Yotsuba and was considered a project of utmost importance, to be the sole premise offering food and drinks in Heartbeat.
But by that time, Kira Kira vs. Wammy’s had already attracted much public attention thanks to Investigation, and the management thought it unwise to disclose its intention without a better excuse. Therefore, they bribed the security guard to taint both coffee shops’ water. When coffee lovers complained of food poisoning, Yotsuba would have the best reason in the world to expel Kira Kira and Wammy’s from Heartbeat!
In tears, Kurou Otoharada said he regretted accepting Yotsuba’s bribe and kneeled in front of Lawliet-san and Yagami-san to ask for their forgiveness. (Though Yagami-san was too busy putting on his shoes back to reply.) Otoharada also claimed to possess evidence that would prove Yotsuba’s guilt.
…
The Yotsuba Corporation had declined comment as of publication.
*
Weeks after Matsuda and Ide’s article scandalised the whole town, Light and L boarded the bus with satisfaction under a clear night sky. They had just ended a negotiation with the Yotsuba management and would soon see a considerable sum of money deposited in their bank accounts. They had agreed to settle out of court since they considered the damage to Yotsuba’s public reputation brought by Investigation’s report as sufficient revenge. The money would also allow each of them to open a bigger coffee shop at a better location.
Both Kira Kira Café and Wammy’s Coffee Corner were going to leave Heartbeat once and for all.
Light had been extremely amused during the negotiation, when one of Yotsuba’s men in suit offered a permanent waiver of rent as part of their compensation.
‘You really thought I’d been fighting this hard because I was scared of leaving your dingy mall?’ He snorted. ‘Kira Kira could have opened and succeeded brilliantly anywhere, anytime. I just couldn’t stand the thought of losing.’
Losing to Wammy’s when they had been rivals for three long and hard years had been unacceptable. But the contest had ended abruptly, without either of them becoming a clear winner or loser.
The funny thing was that they seemed to have learnt and understood a great deal about each other during their rivalry. His cold brew recipe was still a top business secret, while L’s espresso machine was still non-replicable, but otherwise their competitiveness had brought them close.
If they would look at each other’s way, the distance between the one-decker’s left most and right-most seats was in fact minimal. They would have been able to see the all of each other clearly.
But even tonight, the journey on the bus still ended in familiar silence. The wait in the lobby and in the lift was equally reticent. L and Light walked shoulder-to-shoulder, mutely, on the corridor until the latter stopped at the second door nearest the lift.
Light remained quiet. They probably would not open a coffee shop next to each other anymore. They would not compete anymore. There was no point in throwing verbal jabs anymore. Dedicated to their work as they were, they might not even see each other in this corridor often from now.
Something always disappeared along with the end of one of life’s chapters, did it not?
But he made the wrong decision of wearing his bag on the left shoulder tonight, so when he turned left, he could not help but include L in his vision, and the strangely receptive man immediately glimpsed back.
Now this was awkward. Did they really have to talk? Why did he choose to wear his bag on the left?
Silence pervaded as Light chose his words carefully, but L was one step ahead.
‘Now can I finally get a taste of that cold brew? Maybe I’ll finally figure out how to make it after tasting.’
Light did not expect that. ‘What?’ His first reply was not very sophisticated, and he quickly remedied that by adding, ‘I’m sure my cold brew isn’t something you can “figure out” just by tasting it. I’m interested in why you’d ask that, though. Oh!’ His voice became a little loftier. ‘Maybe it’s because your espresso tastes like metal and can help me work out the secret of your magic machine?’
‘Don’t be ridiculous. My espresso doesn’t make people think of machines.’
‘As far as I’m concerned, you’re the dense one who just made an absurd proposal.’
‘I just tried to say something different now that the situation has changed. Do you prefer that we be rude to each other even now? After resolving our rivalry and even going through a semi-alliance?’
‘But what you said is still rude. Try again.’
Light found it easy slip into the familiar rhythm of banter, but he was also curious what L would do next. It was even a little amusing to watch L looking challenged by the task of saying something ‘not rude’.
Finally, L blinked and his expression cleared. ‘Goodnight, then.’
He actually seemed proud of what he came up with, and Light could not resist laughter any longer. His voice exploded in the quietude of the night. He tried to stop, but ‘… lame…’ was all he managed to say before mirth took control.
‘Now who is rude?’
‘… Well… haha… well… I guess I’m sorry, then.’ L was not at all convinced when Light still could not erase the wicked smile throughout his ‘apology’.
Light took a deep breath. For some reason, even though the day had mostly gone well for him, he only felt the most relaxed now. The unexpected shot of cheeriness lifted his heart and made him fly.
When he spoke again, his smile was softer, more sincere. ‘Indeed, we’ve been rude to each other for so long, and even the most normal greeting sounds like an improvement.’
Maybe they would board the bus together again. Or the train. Or a taxi? Or they could just invite each other for coffee, if they wanted to.
Coffee never made itself. It needed great baristas like Light Yagami and L Lawliet.
Because I’m a bored piece of trash and I found @mgcmind‘s ‘Lawlight Week’ post to be hilarious, I decided to read it like a trash gossip podcast/news show. Credit goes to mgcmind for the read material, of course!
Kira is taken down early on, and Light is reborn as a young Shinigami who remembers nothing of what he once was. L is the one to gain ownership of his notebook, and together, they relearn what it means to be human.
L doesn’t leave his hotel rooms too often, but when Light wants to, he’s allowed to wander the city. Whenever he goes on his outings, he always finds himself checking up on a certain former family.
Inside their house, he’ll find the atmosphere eerily comforting. While listening to their boring conversations, he’ll study the photographs found hanging in the hallways, his heart growing in weight each time his name is suddenly mentioned.
“I can’t believe it’s been four months without him, already,” Sayu sighs over dinner one evening.
Light has yet to fully accept that she was once his little sister, or that the empty fourth chair at the dining table was definitely once his. But four months , he ponders, astounded.
When he finally returns to the hotel room, he has to clarifies to himself that, yes, over two months have dropped from L’s remaining lifespan.
During the last few weeks of receiving his eyes, it didn’t take him long to figure out the formula for translating lifespans into human time. And the math still gets easier each time he does it. His favourite guinea pig, of course, is L, since the latter’s lifespan just always so accessible.
But 2 years, 3 months, and 12 days remain floating above the detective’s face.
It’ a surprisingly short amount, and he isn’t permitted at all to tell him how much time is left. Though something much bigger looms over his head in regard to that.
He’s going to have to be the one to end his life.
It became their fate the moment Ryuk threw his notebook down into the room.
But as of late, Light’s grown achingly fond of the human.
L adores his wings, and he knows it too. And if not only from the earlier confession, then in the constant stares it’s made more and more obvious. Sometimes, the dark-haired man will even reach out to stroke a feather.
The first time it happened, Light admittedly flinched at the contact, retracting his wings quick enough to rustle of air against their faces. The detective apologised, but then it happened again the very next day. And the next.
So now, it’s habit that Light simply allows it.
Still frustrated and confused by the meaning of it all, he only continues to follow the human around, day after day. What will he think when it’s time for him to write L’s name down in the notebook?
It starts getting harder to come to terms with the fact that has to do it. Equally, it gets more difficult to accept that he’s grown a soft spot for the man. He tries to justify developing those feelings, telling himself that anyone would do so after spending so much time around someone else.
But those are a human’s thoughts processes. Light doesn’t have human thoughts. At least, that’s what he keeps telling himself.
However, it doesn’t take genius to notice L’s behaviour changing around him as well.
On some nights, rare and shiny, L will join him on the loveseat and lean against his hollow body. Light never phases through him, though; he doesn’t want to. He fully enjoys that solid, warm weight against him.
Even more rare, though, is when L falls asleep on him, and the room fills up with his gentle snores. Knowing he never gets enough sleep, the Shinigami keep dead still for hours on end, just listening to his human’s slow, deep breaths.
And it’s comforting. That’s the easiest part of of it all.
Life alongside L teaches Light again many aspects of being human. But one element still remains annoyingly unclear — that is… desire.
Not desire in the way he craves knowledge, or even in the way he wanted to take Naomi Misora’s life, but desire in the way that causes humans to get frantic and red.
It must have been lost on him in his rebirth. He really can’t seem to understand it.
Light already recognises an array of human-like emotions; rage, loss, and dare he think it; even the beginning of love. But he just can’t wrap his head around wanting another person physically. He can’t relate to the passion that fuels that kind of erratic behaviour simply because he might not have the capacity for it.
And it’s perplexing…
One afternoon, L easily notices the way Light pays extra attention to the topic on TV, and decides to question him on it.
“Do Shinigami reproduce?” he ponders through a lollipop.
Light shakes his head at the grim concept.
“Shinigami are created. We don’t have parents,” he explains, but immediately regrets his choice of words.
“You have parents, though,” L is quick to intervene.
“You know what I mean. Shinigami don’t feel sexual attraction to one another. There isn’t a need to. It’s probably for the best, anyways. As if the world needs more monsters.”
“Is that how you see yourself?” L asks, his tone made up of genuine curiosity. “A monster?”
Light’s chest heaves with a small sigh. It’s a hard question, even to himself.
“In the most literal sense of the word, yes, I do believe so. Do you not?”
L shakes his head in denial, pulling the lollipop from his mouth with a pop.
Light watches the way it gleams in his fingers before clearing another sigh, and opting to re-explain himself.
“I just don’t remember ever understanding human sexuality. Even now, now matter how much I learn about it, I can’t understand it, and it frustrates me.”
He hates to admit that, agitated he could actually be stumped over a human concept.
But at the sight of his honest confusion, L has to forcefully fight off a chuckle. He knows that Light wouldn’t be able to see the humour in it.
“Well, being human, I understand it,” he says, sticking the candy back into his mouth.
His next words come out muffled.
“And I wouldn’t mind showing you that part of humanity.”
Light shoots him a mixed look about what that means.
“Besides, I’ve found myself quite attracted to Light’s new form,” he muses some more, as if it were a normal confession to be making. “I’m curious to see if we can make it work.”
For a moment, the Shinigami’s stunned quiet. His stomach tingles the tiniest bit, but that’s the most reaction he can find out of L’s words. If anything, he’s already satisfied that L would want to teach him, but—
“No,” he firmly states, crossing his arms right away. “I can’t.”
“Even if Shinigami don’t have the physicality down, there are other ways,” L informs him, but the latter grows embarrassed by the implication.
And that’s not all. Light would hate to admit to L that he actually has no idea how to have sex.
“I doubt I’ll find it at all pleasurable,” the Shinigami tries to excuse himself.
L shrugs.
“Even if it’s not physically pleasurable, it can be extremely mentally fulfilling,” he offers back to Light, who frowns at him.
“For humans, perhaps, but—”
“But what? Would it really be so bad to experience a human activity one last time?”
At that point, Light knows he won’t win.
He glances back up to the human’s ticking lifespan and thinks that maybe L’s aware that he hasn’t much time left. Maybe L means himself when he says one last time. And Maybe L is right. Maybe it won’t be so bad.
“Alright. But you have to fly with me once more. An eye for an eye,” he negotiates teasingly, knowing his human wouldn’t be able to pass it up.
And as anticipated, L nods without hesitation.
—Ah. Is that a smile on him?
It’s weird.
Even though he’s no longer human, he can still clearly feel the switch to tension.
L takes the lead, since he’s the one teaching, and Light can only feel grateful.
Seated together on the hotel bed, L tentatively pulls off his own clothes. So far, it’s not different from what the Shinigami’s seen on the screens.
He studies L closely, trying to spot a new type of yearning within himself. But nothing changes.
Staring right back to him with his signature wide-eyes, L moves in to kiss his jaw softly, as he’s done a handful of times since their first flight.
Light’s eyes lull while he enjoys the warm pressure against his skin. It’s nice.
Feeling more advantageous, L nabs up Light’s lips, happily surprised by the roughness of them.
The Shinigami automatically kisses him back; a part he can do. Kisses are nice, and he can understand wanting them, but that’s where the line both begins and ends.
Anything beyond that is a complete mystery.
L lays down next to him, and Light watches too intrigued, as dark eyes fix on his dark wings.
Taking note of it, Light flexes them a bit, and then lifts one up.
L seems to experience a physical change right away.
Shinigami eyes fall to his human’s hips. Through thin boxers, a growing arousal keeps his interest piqued. And…he wants to see more…even if for nothing more than curiosity.
L understands this without words, and has no problem doing exactly like he offered; simply showing Light how it all worked.
An eager gaze follows L’s hand as the latter reaches down to palm himself through the material, and when L’s breath hitches, red eyes quickly snap back up to see L’s cheeks flushed pink.
That’s… beautiful.
It’s odd to admit, even if to himself.
So he feels like an idiot after finally realising why the reaction to his wings.
Stifling a sound, L sinks into his bottom lip while continuing to rub himself, moony eyes glued to his ashy appendages.
That… was the source of L’s desire?
It makes absolutely no sense.
But at the same time, an inspired Light figures that a show wouldn’t hurt the learning experience. He spreads his wings far out, pride filling him as he does so.
The way L sinks into his lower lip even deeper motivates him to continue.
He flaps his wings a few times. A loud whoosh of air blows past the detective’s ears, and it seems to drive him crazy.
Desperately, L pushes his underwear down, and pale, skinny fingers wrap around his dick, squeezing and stroking.
Light can’t take his eyes off of him. As L lays flat, the Shinigami moves to lean up over his pale figure, studying all of the human’s delicious expressions, each of them putting more of those tingles in his chest.
He nearly forgets to hold up his end of the unspoken agreement when his wings freeze, and L does as well. But as soon as he understands this, they start up again, spreading wide to be adored.
Seconds tick by, and the Shinigami realises himself completely engulfed by the intimate situation.
Panting softly, L’s hand moves at a steady pace, eyes ever glued to his wings.
With L enjoying himself, and Light’s ego being stroked, what more could he want from this?
However, that question is decidedly answered when Light swoops one wing down, incidentally brushing his feathers against L’s bare tummy. In reaction, L eagerly whines, and the noise zaps electrically through Light’s entire body.
He wants… more of these sounds.
Even though there’s no inclination to put his hands on L’s body, with his wings, it feels like a different story. He wholeheartedly brings them both forth, immersing L’s flushed and writhing body within them, and as expected, the action pulls more of those addicting sounds out of L.
“Light!” L cries out, and he’s utterly surprised to feel the man orgasming beneath him, his hips stuttering and his eyes sliding shut.
Ashen wings keep protectively around L as his breath steadies, sated and sleepy eyes blinking rapidly at him
“Thank you,” he says simply, seeming to be at an equal loss of words.
Light’s still not sure he really understands what goes on in a human brain during such activities, but did learn that he’s willing to do it all over again. And that kisses are enjoyable.
Very much so.
Retracting his wings, Light leans down, and gently kisses L, almost surprising him with it, but the return kiss is soft and compliant.
It’s nice.
Later that night, L fulfills his end of the deal and allows Light to carry him through the sky once more.
And when the human kisses Light in the air this time, there is no faltering, and no thin excuses muttered afterwards. A silent truce settles between them. They both stop running from their budding feelings.
Neither say a word aloud about it, and they don’t need to.
Things are okay. Things are easy.
Title: A Proper Presentation
Name of creator: @minisuccessor
Created for: @mgcmind
Prompt: Light proposes to L.
Characters: Light Yagami/L Lawliet
Rated PG/No warnings
Word count: 2186
Light Yagami was a conceited man by default. From a young age, he had a certain eye for how he wanted to present himself to the world. On the first day of grade 3, his mother set out his uniform like she always did. It was pristine of course, but Light demanded she iron it twice before he found it wearable. For the festival held in his tenth year, the Criminology Club hosted a themed host club. Light had more of say in the costuming than those assigned to it, just so that his own would meet his specifications. For his University graduation, the tire he wore alone cost a normal worker’s two-week salary, and he bought it without a second hesitation. Every formal event came and Light would rise to the occasion, but this was never an end to his meticulous taste. On any average day, Light wouldn’t go into public without every hair in place, and not a single expensive thread out of line. Some could find his high attention to his appearance strange, too self-focused, but he was unabashed. It only made sense to him this way. Looking one’s best meant opportunities, and opportunities meant one could get everything they desired. Light would always swear his outfit on one particular day lead him to a promotion to superintendent of the Japanese police. Something about a properly dressed man called for attention and respect in almost every aspect of their culture, and Light was more than happy to partake. It was a sign of weakness in humanity to be so dependent on looks, and Light knew that, but he had no issue taking advantage of any gift he acquired. He didn’t have to rely on his looks to get him by, like some unfortunate soles. Natural-born intelligence paved the way to many of his highest honors, but Light couldn’t say that his charm and standard good-looks didn’t give him an extra push in the right direction. Though, it was never completely about the advantages for him. As much as he liked to keep society in his favor, it was just as much for his own pleasure as anything else. It gave him a personal feeling of pride to make himself look so put together everyday. It gave him strength and reassurance on par from what his mental ability gave, only making him invincible to the average day. But with all that in mind, with all of that invincibility and strength, tonight had been the first night that clothing had been his enemy. Inside of a luxury bedroom, shirts, pants, socks, and ties were piled in mountains on the bed. It began almost as soon as Light came home from room, and steadily grew to the monster it was after hours of indeciveness. In his defense, the night wasn’t unlike his usual. He had something planned this evening, something substantial. Everything needed to be perfect, and that also meant him, but things weren’t going as planned. Light paced in front of a mirror, two shirts in very similar shades of eggshell in each hand. He stopped dead center in front of it suddenly, half-haphazardly putting them both against his bare chest with an unimpressed scowl. It took not even ten seconds before they were both discarded, leaving Light to hastily walk back to his thinning closet, reluctant but prepared to try yet again. Normally this would be so easy; he would wake up in the morning with an instant idea to what the day required. It always came together like he wanted, but no matter what he tried it all felt wrong. Comprehending the situation was out of bounds at this point. Through even the most important nights of his life when tension ran high, Light kept his emotions in check and everything would fall into place. Tonight, though, was different. He wasn’t receiving an award, or being the face of the Japanese Police on a major TV Network. Both were normal occurrences and both were very important, but nothing could compare to this night. Emerging from the closet with yet another set of shirts, Light walked his way to mirror with grim thoughts of his success. His footsteps were heavier, causing the loose items on his dresser to rattle. A picture frame in particular was not pleased by the intrusion, its leg caving in and the frame now laying flat to the ceiling. Light paused, looking back at the photo with some interest. Momentarily, he forgot about the clothing causing him so much distress, the articles setting idle in his hands as he moved closer to put it back in its rightful position. Inside the glass was a standard photo. Light himself was in it, but to his side was another man. He was tall and slender, with a long, blank face and an unruly head of pitch black hair. His name was L. He didn’t look pleased to be in the photo, but one could tell it was an honor he stood still enough for it to be taken. Light couldn’t help but smile. Even from inside the glass, they looked like opposites who didn’t belong close enough to be in a picture. When he first met him, Light felt the same way. They originally worked together out of a forced assignment. Someone who cared so much about their presentation couldn’t bare to see such a disorganized mess. L would come into work wearing the same pair of ratty blue jeans with a white shirt like nothing was wrong. He was excellent at his job, admirable and smarter than anyone Light had ever met, but he was everything Light rejected. Because of this, things did not begin well in the slightest, but fate had a way of making things turn on their heads. Quite some time went by before it happened, but despite their differences they grew found of each other. Before they could understand a relationship sprouted unlike anything that Light expected. Years went by, and thing only grew stronger between them. They became something more established, even so far as moving L to Light’s apartment, and things were comfortable. It became so natural, so wanted and pleasant. Never in a million years did Light think L would be the one who had his thoughts on the way home from work, but he always was. He couldn’t go back from L, he did want to, so Light knew it was time. He had the night planned to every specific detail. L worked predominately from their home in his study, and Light was ready to take advantage of this. He was going to prepare a home-cooked meal to draw him out, and recall their time together as fluidly as possible. Then after a presumably long conversation, Light would take L’s hand and propose they make their union official. It was not extravagant by any means, but it fit perfect with his lover, which meant it was enough for him. But now things were thrown off, and Light had no idea how to handle it. He needed to be what L deserved to see more than ever, but nothing was worth it. Light glanced down at the clothes in his hand, suddenly feeling an onslaught of anxiety creep up on him. “Dammit!” He mumbled, tossing it carelessly on the bed. He sat on the edge of it, hands curled in his hair as his elbows perched against his knees in a slump. “Dammit..“ “Why are you sitting on a pile of clothes?” Light’s head snapped up, pupils shrinking as he glanced directly toward a slouching male in the doorframe. He felt his stomach suddenly drop onto his feet. “L..” Tired black eyes looked around with extreme interest as L stalked his way into the bedroom, but he inevitably landed on Light. “And more importantly, why are you half naked?” L came closer as Light examined himself only wearing trousers, a corner of his lip curving upward. "Is something wrong with your clothes suddenly? Or have you snapped under some pressure.” Sighing out, Light felt defeated. Not only had this entire afternoon went wrong, L decided to emerge far too early than anticipated. He couldn’t save this, this couldn’t be the first impression that he makes before asking L to be together for the rest of their lives. “I haven’t snapped. Don’t worry about me and go back to work.” He simply responded, his attitude suddenly taking a more somber note. He stood up, starting to quickly fold whatever he could grab to begin the process of repairing the room. He would try again on another day, one where he actually had a chance. Light was determined to act as if nothing was wrong, just to save some of his dignity, but the other had different plans. While in mid-fold, L caught his shoulder, taking his attention from any fabric. “I came out because I’ve constantly heard groans since you returned from work. The last set was enough to merit a break.” Light internally perished; he thought he was quiet enough with his complaints, but clearly not. L wasn’t letting him or the conversation go, despite how his lax stature suggested. “Tell me— Why did I find you in here like this? It isn’t like you at all.” They stared at each other for a moment, trying to test to see which would eventually cave from the intensity. Eventually it would be Light who turned his head away. As much as he wanted to, he couldn’t lie to L. He knew him better than to fall for something his frazzled mind could cook up. Carefully pulling away from his hold, Light stood back, shame riddling his expression. “I had plans for you and I. They were important, something- very pertinent to our current relationship.” Light spoke as vague as he could, but somehow he still saw the gear of L’s brain working towards the correct answer, his face growing softer. He felt worse, but even at his lowest Light appreciated the beautiful mind L had to his very core. His fingers were itching to distract themselves, but Light stayed strong, taking in a deep breath. “— I couldn’t do it. I have spent all afternoon trying to make myself prepared, but nothing will do.” His voice wavered just slightly, “Nothing I do can measure to what I want from this if I can’t first.” Suddenly furious with himself, Light hit his hand into a stack, a few pieces tumbling to the floor as he walked away, not able to face L directly. L was stunned; seeing Light this caught up was practically unheard of. Normally he was so confident in everything he did, to see him suddenly in shambles was an eye opener. Just the aspect of what he was planning had the male nearly lost for words, but it still didn’t surprise him that Light’s clothing of all things would be the thing to deceive him. He knew how important it was to be perfect to Light, and it was touching to see just how important this was to him. “Light— ” “—
I know
what I wear means nothing to you,” Light interrupted, back still turned. “but that doesn’t mean you don’t warrant the best. If I can’t give that then what’s the point?” “Light.” L tried again once Light’s voice grew more animated. It was enough to get his head to turn, eyes filled with trouble meeting reluctantly with his own. He brought up his arm, calling attention to the mess around them. “This is what I deserve.” The statement took him aback, so much that Light turned to meet him head on. “..What?” L met him in the middle, words ready at the instant. “Appearances have never meant anything to me, it is true. But what you’ve done, the clear compassion you have to have the desire to be perfect for me, that is all the difference in the world.” His hand came up, gently touching against his chest to have some sort of connection, for him to know his words were sincere. “Don’t be so foolish to think you aren’t what I deserve in any form.” Slowly taking in his words, Light wasn’t sure what to make of himself. The cloud seemed to dissipate from his eyes, and he saw how ridiculous of a situation he had made, all for the sake of an outfit L would barely bat an eyelash to. He would forget how unlike the world he was, and suddenly be reminded in the best of ways. He relaxed, giving him a simple nod in understanding. Around them was a mess of proportions Light would normally feel nauseous from, but it didn’t matter; none of what he planned did. All that he cared about was looking only to him, and that’s all he needed. “But if you’re going to do this now, you may want to at least be fully clothed."
