L x Light

BY : Genevieve
Category: Death Note > General
Dragon prints: 5254
Disclaimer: I do not own Death Note, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

There are strong, thin hands holding Light’s abdomen, touching
but not touching, a means of control without violence but with irreversible,
patient restraint.

“So she needs a name after all. But she knows it.”


“Light, do you remember?”

“I…” Light thinks. There are corners of cognition unnervingly shrouded
in darkness, and only emotional memory remains. He props himself up by
his elbows and looks back at L, whose head is leaning gently against Light’s
folded knee.

Light’s hair has gone in his mouth, and he fishes for it as he thinks,
“I have no idea,” he mumbles around his fingers, “I just, that is, there
was—“ his brow furrows. “The—it—we both needed…” his voice trails to something
like silence. We? Was it really true?

He pulls himself up to a sitting position and stares at the carpet in
deep thought, hand cupping his mouth.

I’ve missed so much class.

A bitter laugh escapes between the fingers at his mouth as he wonders
what exactly he had known before and what exactly he had planned for himself
before he forgot everything. They must have done something very serious.

But it couldn’t be something malicious. He would have needed a reason.

Either way, he finds himself thinking, he must be very careful because
L might know more about him than he, himself. He must have believed what
Kira did was right. Because apparently, he had been Kira. But shouldn’t
it sit more right with him? Shouldn’t he want to eliminate L instead of
saving his life?

What is he thinking? What’s the use in being careful now? He’s not going
back to university. He’s not going anywhere.

L has grown lethargic and is leaning more closely against Light’s knee,
hand wrapped just around tibialis anterior and head leaning on the bent

“Take your time,” he yawns, “you can’t lose anything. I’m completely
sure you’re Kira.”

Light nods slowly. “I think we both needed a face and a name.”

“Then how—“

“but she can get the names. And I…can’t?” It issues forth almost inquisitively,
and Light’s fingers stop at his chin as he pauses in fascination.

She can get the names and I can’t.

It’s what L figured out.

L is marvelously content. He thinks there’s nothing in the world he
would rather be doing right now than sitting right there, listening to
Light verify the assorted details of L’s conclusions. He’d been down for
so long tormenting himself for the implication that he was wrong somewhere,
and now that things are starting to make sense again in support of his
reasoning, he feels both relieved and excited.

And afraid. What Light is telling him makes sense, but he can’t remember
everything. What was this about the supernatural?

L swallows hard.

“Light,” he says, eyes staring directly at the other boy, “could you
kill me right now?”

Light stares back speechlessly. Up to this point, he would fume in frustration
at questions like this, about what he would do if theoretically he were
Kira, or why he would do certain things unless he were Kira.

I couldn't,” the words issue forth strained and whispered and
shrouded in agony, foreign even to Light, himself, and he doesn’t understand
himself at all.

He is brittle when his hand rises to L’s cheek and brushes sorrowfully,
and in a transient moment of understanding he murmurs, “but things will
change, and before that happens, have us secured. Separate from one another.
I can’t tell you how, but she can kill you. So—“

L’s hands are tight around Light’s now and he’s staring at him with
vast amusement, the way a soldier stares at a dying comrade, Light thinks,
and is isn’t terribly far from reality.

“—tell her I said never to kill you.”

L looks down at Light’s fingers interlaced in his and inspects them
slowly. Light watches as he draws them to his mouth and kisses the thin

“And never let her speak to me after that,” Light finishes.

He knows when L kisses him that he has wanted this badly, and he understands
that this is because it’s their last night together—so he holds on very
tightly, hands locked possessively around L’s neck the way a child holds
on to an older sibling, and even though it really is love, very soon it
won’t matter anymore.



To be continued…





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