Death Note Fan Fiction ❯ A Balm for Social Failure ❯ Kira's Final Laugh ( Chapter 16 )

[ X - Adult: No readers under 18. Contains Graphic Adult Themes/Extreme violence. ]

A Balm for Social Failure

(Chapter 16: Kira's Final Laugh)
Light x L

L begins to suspect something is missing from his life. He believes the key to be in social interaction - his weak point. At the appearance of the enigma named Light Yagami, he is challenged to rise to the occasion.

Disclaimer: see ch. 1 for full disclaimer

A/N: Read this one through till the end. If you skip around, you will definitely miss things. (extra-long chapter ahead)

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"A romanticized view you have of me, detective." Pale gold eyes assessed him, branded him a lower being, and openly mocked him. "It would be easier to believe that Kira and Light are separate entities, wouldn't it? Easier on your conscience if you were not in love with a cold-blooded killer."

L blanched. He knew?! But... Light had never let on to such a thing... This was merely Kira's supposition. Could this not be taken as affirmation that Kira and Light were split parts of a whole? Or was there a little part in each of them that was aware of what the other was doing and hearing?

Kira advanced on him, fingers sliding around L's throat. "I just love it when I'm right," Kira purred.

"Not everyone is your enemy."

"Funny, coming from my greatest adversary." Kira's lips brushed his, another mockery, and the fingers tightened about his neck. Threatening. L's hand flew up, trying to dislodge the iron shackle of his grip. Kira squeezed further and L made a choked noise of distress. Is it truly going to end like this? Amber eyes roved his face, as if enchanted.

"I think I see what he sees in you..." Kira leaned forward, flicked his tongue against L's lips where they parted for air. "...beneath the surface..." Kira shoved him roughly against the wall and forced his way inside L's mouth, his fingers digging into the pale flesh of his throat.

The air was stifling, all of it too heavy and charged and pressing too close. Ill-will, power, and greed rode the air like disease. The wall at L's back was unforgiving, holding up staunchly as L's head and neck were ground into it. Kira's hold was brutal, life-crushing, but his mouth fed at L's almost like a lover's. More gently consuming as it possessed him with the trappings of such triumphant hatred...

L felt a tear slip down his cheek in a hot trail. Kira's kisses tasted like Light's, but they were bitter. Oh, so terribly bitter. His finger trembled over the keypad of his phone, hidden deep within the pocket of his jeans. One more button and he would have Watari and the authorities here in moments. A failsafe. A code that would spring a trap so tight that not even the formidable Kira could escape.

The question was, would he be dead before they arrived to help him?

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Chapter 16:

Light woke slowly.

He was groggy, mind spinning in hapless nowhere circles. His right cheek was numb and cold. Concrete?

Cold. It was cold everywhere. He struggled with the monumental task of making his eyelids unveil his surroundings. Through the fringe of his eyelashes, he saw something that made his blood go cold.

A cell.

He was in a cell?!

Yet even this terrifying truth did little to make his body obey his urgent commands. Stand! Sit up! Something! The most he could manage was a half-successful lurch that both landed him back on his face and revealed to him the bound state of his useless arms. Everywhere hurt. He winced. That was the other thing he had so cleverly learned in that moment. He felt like he had been beaten with a flight of stairs. Multiple sets of them.

He groaned. Now that he'd taken notice, his discomfort was being compounded by nausea.

Why am I here?

I don't remember anything...

He shut his eyes as a wave of anxiety sloshed through him.

Where was L?

Dark eyes came to mind, shadowed by a sweep of dark hair. Those eyes that could be so expressive, so precious. Those eyes that could stare through him with the weight of the dead - bleeding through his confidence with their unrelenting, flat observation. Those eyes were not his, it was L's emotive eyes that he owned. The eyes that L gave him when they kissed, when they touched. Those dark, rich, drowning eyes. The others were part of a mask. L's hiding place. A place that Light could not reach.

Had L returned to the solitude and security that the castle of his mind afforded him?

His stomach roiled. I don't know where I stand. This game of ours... have you discovered the way to win? Have I lost without realizing? He shifted in his bonds, feeling the chaffed raw skin of his wrists protest the movement, grinding his teeth unknowingly. NO. He wouldn't. Despite everything, L wouldn't...

The dingy grey walls were a pallid observer to his denial and building hysteria.

Was this it? The final call?

Anger sizzled through the tired synapses of his mind. This can't be it. L, where are you?!

Cold. Alone. Isn't this how he'd always imagined his end? Hidden away from the world he'd wanted to save, choking on the bile and blackness that had replaced his heart. He wouldn't. L was not cruel. Was he?

Light realized with a start that he'd held hopes for L. A tiny, pure flame of trust had somehow sparked within him, and he'd protected it, nurtured it, hating the fact that he even gave into such folly. No one deserved such trust. People by nature will ultimately fail. The only question is, how deeply you let them affect you, and how badly it rends you when it happens. It was foolish to let them in. Foolish to give them power. But he'd done more than let L in. He'd courted the other boy, pursued him and swayed him to engage in the most intimate of acts, wanting to bind them together. He, the untrustworthy one, had trusted in L's tentative smiles.

Pain tore at his chest. Damn you. Damn you.

Exhaustion gave way to disbelief. Fear. Rage.

Where are you?

The walls were closing in on him, collapsing.

I despise you!

The air felt too thick to breathe. Sweat stood out on his skin.

Where are you?

Look at me as you kill me. L!

Don't leave me here alone.

The world tilted crazily behind Light's closed eyes, one last frantic thought chasing him as he fell into oblivion.

L... you COWARD!

---

2 weeks later...

L waited patiently for the car to arrive that bore Watari's granddaughter Emelia, fresh from England. That was the story, anyway. She spoke excellent Japanese. L fidgeted, looking around the bus terminal. It was teeming with people. He was grateful at the least that there had been no need for him to wait at the airport instead. That would have meant humanity pressing in at all sides, a thing he could do without. He despised their closeness. His skin would never come clean from the taint of their touch.

The black wire bench he inhabited was uncomfortable and thus, empty.

This official meeting seemed rather pointless, as they were well-acquainted. L loathed the outside world, but his instincts for preservation told him that this might be a necessary measure. So, he waited.

Buses pulled in and exhausted smoke in weedy, explosive sighs, expelling then their occupants in a sickly stream. Bags were claimed, people were claimed, some simply disappeared. The cars were fewer in number, but Watari had informed him of the model. It was also black.

There. Who knows how they had found such an English style of car, and someone to drive it. Frivolous, if you asked him. He shrugged. It didn't matter.

The sleek vehicle pulled in abreast of the already parked buses, in an area designated drop-offs. L slunk to his feet, making a sour face as the feel of rubber soles offended his sensibilities, and made his way across the open-air terminal. It was bright outside, causing him to squint. He was both looking forward to this and not... being rather unsure of what to expect.

The car door opened and a tall woman stepped out, standing in one fluid motion. She looked exceedingly English, from the cut of her clothes, to her slightly broad shouldered build, to the gossamer brown kerchief over her wavy white-blonde hair. Even partially covered, it stood out very much in a crowd that was predominately Japanese, but they could hardly expect her to go brunette, and black just would not look right.

(("Emelia,")) L greeted in English with a small wave of a lifted hand. Said hand immediately tucked back into his pocket, and he resumed his slouched stance of waiting.

The blonde head turned, marked him, and expressed a look of delicate distaste. (("Hello, L. Good to see you again?"))

(("Did you have an unpleasant trip, Emelia-san?")) He switched to more formal, hoping to alter the tone of their exchange. There were rules to every engagement of social impetus and Emelia was no different.

She gave him a cavalier shrug and bent to pay the driver and send him on his way. The snubbing annoyed him somewhat.

Her single bag was the wheeled type, and bore an awful brocade of nondescript, overly large flowers that put L in mind of musty floor-length curtains. All of the colors were variations on grey. He popped the handle up and rolled the suitcase behind him, making his way to the car he had waiting. Let her catch up, if she was feeling so contrary.

It pleased him when he heard a muffled curse in Japanese, and the uneven staccato of running steps.

"Was that... necessary?" she huffed in Japanese when she gained his side.

L ignored the question. She would obviously dislike his answer. "Are you going to leave those on?" he inquired, referring to the large, movie star-esque sunglasses she wore.

"Yes, I would prefer it."

L was curious. "Why is that, may I ask?"

The lipsticked mouth frowned disdainfully. "If you must know, I did not have the time nor the inclination to make up my eyes."

Ah. That was a shame. He smothered the mirth that arose at the thought of it. "Did you receive the gift I sent you, Emelia-san?"

She scoffed. "The earrings? Yes."

"Are you wearing them?"

Emelia let out an explosive sigh of exasperation. "What do you think?"

L smiled infuriatingly at her and she muttered, "Of course I am, though I'm sure I needn't remind you my ears did not take the pierced variety previously." She swept her hair aside just enough to show one of the small, satiny silver titanium hoops, self-locking and with an ingenious little ball that spun freely at the bottom, impaled upon it.

"I do apologize for that, but I wouldn't want you to lose them."

She ground her teeth and formed a questionable smile. "How thoughtful of you, dear L."

"I do try."

Watari was behind the wheel of their own vehicle, but he emerged as soon as he saw them. (("Emelia, my dear, how lovely of you to visit."))

(("Grandda.")) She smiled at him and laid a kiss to his cheek.

(("How was the drive?")) the elder man asked.

She frowned slightly, behaving in a less acerbic manner in her role as granddaughter. (("It seemed unnecessarily long, and boring..."))

(("Ah, unfortunately, the airport that receives British flights is a good distance away. I apologize for the inconvenience."))

(("I hate to break up the reunion,")) L interrupted, (("but could we be on our way now?")) He had been patient for long enough today.

(("Is he always this rude?")) Emelia asked Watari as if he weren't standing right there.

Watari gave a pained expression, not wanting to be dragged into the middle of another argument. (("I wouldn't say rude, my dear. That is impolite, especially when L is so graciously seeing to your accommodations."))

Emelia turned to L. "I apologize," she said demurely, "I was forgetting myself."

L blinked at her, stunned to receive an apology.

Unfortunately, she continued. "I can't expect even my Grandda to be able to smooth over the natural inclinations towards being boorish that one such as yourself has in spades. Even miracle workers have limitations."

L remembered just in time that he shouldn't hit a lady. "Just get in the car," he hissed.

She rewarded his temper with a jaunty tilt of her head and a curling smile. (("As you wish."))

Watari was shaking his head remorsefully, muttering under his breath. "It will never work. Heavens help us, it will never work."

---

"What are you doing?" L asked Emelia later that week, while not shifting his attention from the chessboard. "Knight to B6," he said as he moved a piece.

She was fighting her way into a tailored suit. "I'm getting ready to go out, and that was a careless move, really. Queen to A5."

L frowned. That had been a rotten move. He placed her call, and moved his next. "And where is it you think you are going? Pawn to H3."

"Surely you have some sort of case for me to help you with? Some reconnaissance to be done? Unlike you, I am not content to molder away inside forever, even if it is a lot of trouble to do otherwise. Tower to H2."

H2? Oh, how typical. "Alright, you win." L stood up, vexation marking his face. "H2," he muttered. Pointless to continue on either front. He could read ahead and he was losing doubly. He took stock of his wrinkled shirt and evaluated the worth of its power to annoy before deciding to leave it the way it was. It was likely to be very irritating to his companion. Good. "Watari," he called out, "We are going out. The usual practices apply. I have my cell phone as well."

"Very good, sir, try not to kill each other if you would be so kind."

L scoffed. Like the danger was from himself. Well, maybe.

---

"You know, L, I think I am beginning to grasp the dynamic of a world-class detective's work schedule?" Emelia voiced conversationally. L waited for the second part he was certain would follow. "I never even dreamed it would entail such disorder and be so apt for slovenly, lazy people. Really, you hardly ever work unless the case is particularly interesting for you. Then, look out, you are all about percentages and probabilities. Why can you not treat every case with such care? You bullshit the easy ones."

L picked at the food on his plate. He was essentially done, but the shift in mood was holding him in place. Emelia had awful timing, as usual. "Why should I expend time researching when my initial conclusions are always right? Only the difficult ones are worth such effort and care."

"Like the Kira case?"

L stiffened. "Yes, like the Kira case."

"Remarkable how fast you came to the proper conclusion on that one, and yet you continued to throw everything you had at it. Were you so displeased by the thought of being right that you had to search for a way to be wrong?"

"This conversation is inappropriate."

The blonde pressed forward, eyes sharp. "Tell me things did not go exactly how you wanted them to."

"They did not. At the end..." L looked away. Futile was not the word. Light... if only he had not been so utterly divided in himself that Kira was strong enough to push him out. Kira being in total control had complicated everything. He'd panicked.

Violet eyes regarded him solemnly. "I'm sorry.... L... I don't know what possessed me."

"Please try to keep in mind that this is still difficult for me and have a little compassion," L clipped out. His voice then paled, "There are so many other ways it could have ended..."

"I said I was sorry." His companion's face showed frustration, then smoothed back into something more conciliatory. A truce was ventured. "I believe I get too caught up in my own inconveniences at times."

"I understand," L said mechanically. For the most part, I do understand. But I don't like when you get like this. "It is difficult for both of us, but something that must be borne if this is to work. Things are what they are and the only option is to deal with it."

"I know, I know. I did give my assent, after all..." Emelia daintily finished her whiskey and put the matter to rest with the decisive flop of bills on the table to pay for their meal. "Shall we be off? The gloom is choking me."

L took a deep breath, then slid out of the booth and followed the blonde outside.

---

2 weeks ago:

L's finger hovered over the button on his cell phone as Kira violated his mouth and slowly snuffed the life from him. One last digit. The call that would end everything. His head swam with the pressure at his throat. He couldn't do it?

He'd be killed.

But, by pushing that button, Light would be killed.

If that happened, could he live with himself?

His hand shook so hard it was very difficult to hold the phone in his hand, let alone keep its place over the correct number. Light... I'm sorry. If I don't, Kira will break the world in two with his law. Behind closed eyes, his vision swam black and red. Now. I have to do it NOW.

Curiously, the pressure let up the merest bit. L's confusion stayed his hand. He heard a girlish gasp.

"Eek! S-Someone's already um, using this area, Martel, let's go to another."

"Don't be ridiculous. They sent us for ice, they'll think we were messing around on the clock if we - oh!"

Female voices. L tried not to imagine what they saw. He tried to pretend he wasn't there. Gone, suddenly, was the venom in the other boy's touch and the deadly closure of his hand. The mouth on his was now apologetic, warm, familiar. He felt himself sink into it, even as his heart fell to despair. Light's hand trailed lightly against his neck, bittersweet in its tenderness, concealing abused flesh from unwitting eyes. Kira, for the moment, was gone but in his wake he'd ruined everything. In a final, cruel blow - he'd designed his capture be the betrayal of the person dearest to L's heart.

Light...

"Hey," one of the female hotel employees whispered, not quite out of earshot, "I-I think that was the cute guy I was telling you about, Martel! Remember? The one that was flirting with me-"

"Minami!" the other hissed in desperation. "Shut up and go!" There were faint sounds of protest and scuffling as she herded her companion out of the area.

Silence fell like a dark blanket, thick and claustrophobic.

L's entire body tensed as Light slowly pulled back, draining the air between them of his heat and that certain quality that robbed L of his senses. Time was mired in sluggish sickness - in the acid pool of uncertainty. Each inch they moved apart drove the frantic pace of his thoughts. Demon at my throat... which one will you be? Kira? Light? Do I still have time, or will I yet be forced to play my hand... He prayed for it to be his friend in truth and not Kira swathed in the mimicry of familiar trappings.

Amber eyes like thick, cloying honey searched the dark-haired boy's face. "What's wrong with you, Ryuuzaki?" the tones were rich, but free of the heady, dark maliciousness that infused his voice when Kira was present. "You're acting strange."

How long do I have? L thought morbidly, trying to distance himself from what he might yet need to do. Is this temporary? Light was with him again - and seemingly unaware that anything had transpired.

Will Kira resurface as soon as I've let my guard down? Or is Light merely a face that belongs to Kira? Have I been taken in by a clever facade, just like everyone else?

"Nothing," L managed. His voice sounded unnatural to his own ears, more like the dry rustle of long grass shaken by the wind.

He ducked around Light and back into the hallway. He had to think. But there was no time. As soon as Light saw the raw marks that would be blossoming on his throat... something was going to happen. Would Light's denial bring back the beast? He had to be ready for it. The situation had escalated past this little bubble they'd formed around themselves. Light did not know the true form of Kira. He believed himself to be in control at all times. He was woefully mistaken.

"Ryuuzaki," Light said again, trying to snare him to stillness by speaking his name. He was keeping up with L's hurried strides, but was unable to overtake him without running. Traces of hurt and confusion threaded in the false name, pulling at L's chest. Suddenly, the chain went taut. Light had stopped moving. He had to halt as well.

The brunette's voice was worried and turning colder, "Have you... changed your mind, then?"

L tried to keep his posture from becoming too rigid. He hated it, but for now, he had to lie. "No, Light, I haven't." This part was too difficult to enact. Would he have to deal a killing blow while it was Light's face turned to him in trust? Anxiety and regret scrabbled and clawed at his stomach. Fear was present as an undercurrent. He feared for his own life as well. "I'm just dreadfully tired for some reason and wish to sleep." My mouth shapes lies. You'll see them. You always do...

Light was suspicious. "You said earlier that you were hungry. Or had you forgotten?"

"Come, if you want to talk, let us first retire to our room."

There was a pregnant pause. "Very well," came the guarded reply.

Once at the door to their hotel room, L was careful to keep his back turned to Light, praying that the brunette's displeasure was not enough to invoke Kira. He felt exposed, the back of his neck prickling as he purposely left his flank unguarded. He matched Light in strength, but Kira was stronger than both of them.

The door clicked open, their entry accepted.

They stepped inside and L made a beeline for their shared room. He heard the electric charge and could smell the ozone seconds before Light's body crumpled onto the floor behind him.

A tremor of sickness moved through L. Despair. He shut his eyes for a moment, then spoke in subdued tones. "Thank you, Watari; I am sorry I had to ask you to do that." His voice did not sound like his own.

Early on, when Light was first to be chained to him, L had prepared another code. A simple one.

When receiving that code, Watari would, no questions asked, use the taser.

"Has it come to that, sir?" Watari said carefully.

The detective turned, and felt shame mark his face as his subordinate reacted silently to the sight of his throat. "We can no longer continue as we were. He must be confined." His mouth tasted of acid and bitter things. A slow, deep breath was a token gesture of calm towards the rebellion of his stomach. L steeled himself and looked upon the hapless form on the floor. It was too tragic. "Give me a moment, Watari, and then begin the preparations."

"Yes, sir," the older man said quietly.

L moved to Light's side, his heart constricting as he picked up a limp hand and looked upon the boy's face. Watari knew better than to ask if he was ok. L was sure the answer to that question was evident to him regardless. "I'm sorry, Light. This is all I can do for you at the moment." Light's bangs had fallen into disarray, highlighting his prone state with that tiny bit of disorder. L brushed the soft hair back into place with a tremulous hand.

Soon, I must make that decision...

Soon, the brunette would gain his senses.

From now, they must move quickly. "Watari?"

"On my way, sir." L waited a moment and looked over his shoulder to see Watari approaching with something in his hands. He knelt next to Light, out of his line of sight, and pulled a needle and syringe from a small leather case. Light was stirring.

L continued to hold onto the brunette's hand, turning it over slowly so as not to alarm him. Administering the drug was easy. Waiting for its sense-depriving effects, however, would take a little time. L struggled to keep his expression blank as those beautiful eyes began to flutter open. It was all he could do. He felt more upset and fractured than he ever had. His poker face was all he could offer the brunette.

"L...?" Light murmured, his eyes slowly focusing. A frown tugged at the corners of his sensual lips as he stared at L's deadened eyes. It ripped at L's chest, the vestiges of distrust and confusion appearing in his companion's gaze.

L bent down, brushing a kiss to his lips. "Sleep," he said softly, biding time. "You were so tired before, but now you can rest." He stayed close and in moments he could hear the delicate puffs of even breath, indication that unconsciousness had once more claimed the brunette. "Watari..." The silky cap of Light's hair blurred slightly in his vision. It is time. "Maintain this state until we have him moved."

"Of course, sir."

---

Outside the restaurant, L blinked, allowing his eyes to adjust between the different varieties of gloom. Inside and out. The day was particularly overcast, and L wasn't sure if he found it easier or more difficult to deal with Emelia when he could see her very purple eyes unconcealed by dark shades.

Not that such should matter, but it did.

Her face was expertly made up, which was to be expected, but the perfection annoyed him. They made their way south to an office building that housed opportunity for information gathering from the gossipy office staff. Emelia would handle that, much as she protested. They would be more apt to bring her into their fold than a dark-eyed, sloppy insomniac. Of course, perfection is what people always craved.

"You're doing that thing," Emelia said without looking at him.

L narrowed his eyes, and felt like batting her bouncy curls off her head. "What thing?"

"Oh, please let's not be obtuse about it. If you're so bothered, we can always throw you in a vat of makeup and pop you into some women's clothes and see how they respond to you."

"I'm certain that would only serve to make matters appallingly worse."

"In all seriousness, you could simply cover up the dark circles beneath your eyes and dress in things that weren't wrinkled if you were aiming to impress people. Perhaps that would be enough to be perfection in their eyes, though I find it foolish of them to be swayed by such trivial things."

"Sounds like a waste of time."

"It is. You're fine just the way you are, so stop sulking."

"I'm not sulking!" L said indignantly. "Oh, if only you were-"

"L?" a new voice queried. "Is that you?"

L froze. Emelia halted in the same step. They turned in unison, and L's stomach plummeted past his knees. Next to the cheerily waving Matsuda was the Police Chief, Yagami-san. Light's father.

L and his companion shared a glance. There was no helping it.

"Greetings, Matsuda-san, Yagami-san," L said in his best attempt at a normal voice.

"I didn't think you would still be hanging around this area, L," Yagami said stiffly.

L took a moment to compose his response. The clipped words pained him. "I am sorry I had to relegate all communications to Watari after the incident. I am also deeply sorry that I was correct, and that Light-kun had to be placed in confinement-"

"You are a bastard," Yagami spat. "I didn't even get to see him before they-"

L's head drooped. The Yagami family was not informed of the day the execution was to occur, nor were they permitted to see Light after it was carried through. They were to mourn their loss with no token of his physical existence. No body, no ashes. Yagami-san's hatred was palpable, and L could not blame him for it.

"I still can't believe you went through with it," the older man continued, emotion choking his voice. Recent times had not been kind to him. His hair had, more than ever, defected to silver and his face was haggard. "All for the sake of your reputation-"

Facing this man.... after he had effectively killed his son, was one of the hardest things L had ever done. His throat was dry, and when he swallowed it was like choking on dust. This man he had once, and still so greatly revered. To be looked upon in the way he was being viewed now was...

The words that L had rehearsed should such an unlikely situation come to fruition died in his throat before he could expel them. What could he truly say to this man?

Emelia took that opportune moment to cough politely. All eyes turned her way. (("I'm terribly sorry to intrude.")) Her eyes were downcast as if she was horribly embarrassed. L knew that wasn't the case, but he was grateful for the reprieve he was being granted.

Matsuda flushed and garbled out an apology for not introducing himself and the police chief sooner. His English was atrocious, but understandable. For the most part.

Yagami, too, pulled himself together. He bowed deeply and offered his humblest apologies for forcing her to see such a negative display. His English was respectable. (("I truly am sorry, Miss...?"))

(("Call me Emelia."))

Meanwhile, Matsuda was looking quite smitten. (("Where from are you?"))

(("Britain.")) She smiled.

(("Eyes of yours very pretty.")) Matsuda said earnestly. ((Very pretty you are also. Remind me of someone.)) He looked wistfully sad for a moment.

Yagami looked at Emelia more closely. He frowned.

(("Is there something wrong, Mr. Yagami?")) she asked politely.

He shook his head, apologetic. (("No, it is nothing. My son...")) He paused. (("You remind me a little of him. He... was about your age when he- when we lost him."))

(("I'm so terribly sorry."))

(("I... thank you.")) Yagami collected himself once more. (("What brings you to Japan?"))

((I'm visiting my grandfather. He works very closely with L. Perhaps you know him?"))

((You must mean Watari. Yes. He is a proper gentleman. It was a pleasure to work with him."))

Emelia beamed. (("I'm so glad to hear that."))

The police chief spared a glance at L. (("We must be on our way. Take care of yourself, Emelia."))

Matsuda left more reluctantly, and by the time he finally turned around to walk away in earnest, Emelia's smile was cracking at the edges. "What lovely people. I can't say that I would miss not interacting with them."

L's head was throbbing. He hated encounters like that. One of the wonderful side effects of staying indoors was minimizing contact with such things. "Let's get moving," he said quietly, resuming the path towards their destination.

Emelia looked pensively after the retreating figures a moment before following L.

---

The information gathering went reasonably well. Curiously, by the end of it, their moods had reversed. L had managed to regain his equilibrium, whereas Emelia had lost hers.

"Stop it, L," she said through gritted teeth.

They were on their way back to the Parkway Hotel where they and Watari were currently staying, and L could not wait to be done with all of this. In addition, he greatly disliked doing the legwork on cases and had been reticent in complying to Emelia's request in the first place. He decided that some payback was in order and felt the most effective means to that end was to be extremely annoying to the blonde.

"Stop what?" He responded glibly. "All I said is that you did a fantastic job. You were very convincing. Even I believed your act."

A heated glare was the only reply.

"Still, it was amazing how much the man running the reception desk liked to flirt so excessively. It was uncanny." L was warming up to the banter. "I must admit, I was a little jealous." He noticed a slight reaction to that and decided to expound upon it later. "You had quite a crowd by the end. How many business cards and dinner invitations was it?"

"SIX."

"You should be flattered."

"Well, I'm not," she growled. "And if one more hand touched my ass, you can be sure-"

She broke off as they stepped into the hotel lobby, all marble floors and varnished mahogany walls, the echoing silence discouraging further speech. It didn't matter, L knew where that sentence had been headed. The lobby attendant nodded at them with a giant fake smile as they went by.

"Can't you ever stay in a less extravagant hotel?" Emelia snipped.

"But I like the convenience of hotel restaurants." The pristine carpet leading up to the elevator swallowed the sound of their steps. This was shaping up into one of their classics.

"You don't care about that," she scoffed. "Watari brings you all your meals anyway, you lazy ass."

"He also brings me my sugar, and the hotels I select are close to good bakeries to minimize his travel time."

"Feh. Typical. You and your damn desserts. I despise that about you. I always have." Violet eyes flashed in challenge.

"You find that to be a flaw?" L feigned surprise. "I think that it is one of my more interesting traits..." The elevator was taking its time reaching the lobby level. Emelia's heeled foot tapped out its impatience. L's smile grew with her increasing irritation. "In fact, lets go with that, shall we? I could name some of my favorites of yours? For instance, have I ever told you how impressive I find your height? It is rare for a girl to be taller than me."

"No," she said churlishly, wishing she could take off her sensible heels. "And I would rather you never speak of it again."

"How about my amazement with how utterly feminine you can be, despite yourself?"

A violet gaze leveled at him with malicious intent. "Not. Another. Word." The elevator doors dinged and slid open. Emelia stalked out.

"What, is it that time of the month?" L called after her, garnering indignant stares from the few onlookers.

"Bite me," she tossed over her shoulder and flipped him off.

L smiled. Emelia could be so much fun. Almost as much fun as... He shook his head, dispelling the thought, feeling a somber mood trying to overtake him. It wouldn't do to dwell on the past, or a future that would never be.

---

"Welcome home, Emelia," Watari greeted from the kitchenette as she entered the suite.

"Hi to you too, Gramps," she snarled, taking her shoes off with a small progression of hops through the hallway, chucking them into the room she and L shared with the force and finality of death.

L entered a moment later, albeit more calmly.

"Good evening, sir."

L dipped his head in acknowledgement.

Watari stopped him with continued words, and his manner. "I seem to have a rather feisty granddaughter, if I do say so myself." The older man was radiating disapproval and it wasn't regarding Emelia's behavior.

L sighed. "He can't help it."

"And you believe this is for the best? You know I question this entire thing adamantly. This relationship..."

"Enough, Watari." They'd spoken of this countless times. In the end, he'd suggested Watari either go along with it or terminate his service. The man had made his choice. L slunk off to the room of impending peril, ready to duck anything that happened to be airborne.

"I. hate. you," Emelia spat out immediately upon seeing his face. "I never even knew I could hate you this much. Every day, and in every way, I am simply astounded by how much I hate you."

L was placating. "I was just teasing you. A little." A lot, really, but that did nothing to help his case.

"Look at what's become of me! And it's all your fault!"

L dodged a hairbrush that was launched at his head. "But you agreed," he stated calmly. "It's hardly all to blame on me. Take a little responsibility."

Emelia muttered a string of obscenities and shoved him into a wall. It was uncomfortable, all that muscle straining to intimidate him to silence. But still, L couldn't resist the obvious goad. "You're pretty strong... for a girl."

Ignoring the taunt, the blonde shook him. "How are you going to make this up to me?" she demanded in a low voice, eyes flashing so familiarly. As if amber could be clouded by violet.

L shrugged. "You have me? I should think that ought to count for something..."

"You insufferable little..." Emelia crushed lips to his, and it was like old times. The anger, the lust, the... Well, the lipstick was more or less new. He closed his eyes and went with it. His mind conjured a different face, soft brown hair. Eyes like glowing amber. Light...

"What did you just call me?"

L roused himself. Had he said something aloud?

"Did you just call me Light?"

"Er... did I?"

"I do believe you did." Purple eyes narrowed.

L looked away. "I'm sorry. It's still hard for me..."

A strong hand under his chin turned his face back. "Say it again."

"Light?"

"Yes, yes, I'm so sick of that god-awful British name you picked out for me. I want to hear my own name on your lips, not the fake one which is all I hear out of you anymore."

"But if we aren't used to calling you that and you can't respond to it without hesitation..."

Light pushed him back with a scowl, pulling the wig from his head and throwing it to the floor as if it were a dead animal. He wiped the remaining flush of lipstick from his mouth and kicked it. "I hate this godforsaken thing."

L gave him a diffident shrug. "I told you you could just grow your hair out. You'd have to dye it, of course-"

"NO." Light gave him a look that could liquefy glass. "When we are indoors, I want to be as much of myself as possible. I am not going to dye my hair, I am not going to grow it out long, and I am not painting my nails." Light flicked his fingers beneath L's nose in an antagonistic way and blew out of the room.

L slouched against the wall and let out a small, caged sigh. He knew it was hard on the brunette, this charade they'd concocted. It ate at the other boy's pride like acid. But, at the time, it was the only thing he could think of. He tried not to fault himself to heavily in his fumble that day - being dually choked and molested by the unstable incarnation of Kira had thrown him mightily off balance. Subsequent decisions were likewise affected.

The brunette returned several minutes later, resplendent with his natural amber eye color once again accentuating his intense gaze. His hair, slightly mussed from the wig was now perfectly arranged.

L smiled at him fondly. "You would make a fair redhead," he offered with mild ribbing, continuing where they left off. It wasn't what he intended to say, but Light was not always disposed to receiving flattery. But, really, L did love those golden eyes. To think they were so close to being extinguished forever... A sharp stabbing twisted in his gut.

Light shut and locked the door behind him. "Shut up. You know I'd still have to wear lenses. My natural color is too uncommon."

"Perhaps you are right. Though red and purple could make for a stunning combination." He pretended to be quite taken with the idea. Was it wrong to hide within the womb of this contrived banter? That he could ease the frail shaking of his soul by antagonizing Light in such a childish manner? Did Light find a similar comfort, or was he merely humoring him?

Light snorted. "You've just been begging for it all day." He tore off the brown pants suit he was wearing, then the white collared undershirt, disposing of them with an apt amount of disgust.

L couldn't help but feel this stage-play was a patchwork bandage to cover over the torn and ugly labyrinth of their mutually shattered trust. "What? I was good. I never once suggested you wear a skirt, even though you have the legs for it-"

Light shoved him onto the bed, straddling and looming over him. "I hate you more than any human being on this earth."

Had they lost the ability to be themselves? To be truly honest? He saw Light's true form hidden in his eyes, but access was not so easily granted. This ungainly method of interaction was the only path they were allowing themselves. He antagonized Light, and Light vented the debilitating force of his conflicting feelings. If it was love that they held between them, it was a blade that threatened to rend them both.

L played his role to a fault. "Wouldn't you just love having to shave your legs?" At least they had some standing to build from. Anything was better than nothing...

Light growled and silenced L with a rough, sensual kiss. It tasted of frustration, anger, and overpowering desire.

L felt his lids flutter as his body responded full force. Since this charade started, Light often vented his ire on L within the complicated dance of their courtship. Their lovemaking was like a battle - harsh, unyielding, intense. But Light would never take it far enough to really hurt him. It was just one of their many unspoken agreements. Light was not forced to cope with the emotional aspect of things, if they could do it like this. He could maintain the belief that nothing had changed. That L was utterly at his mercy. Powerless.

A breathless groan escaped his throat, hovering on the air as Light's touch bowed his back.

"Who's the girl now," Light spoke in his ear, "you horrible little bastard?"

L's cheeks flushed hot even as his face expressed displeasure in an etched frown. From these encounters, he did not always emerge unscathed. Light had a way of saying the most wretched of things, but in such a smooth, silky voice, that he might instead have been purring something quite suggestive in his ear. The name-calling was often uttered with the sly tone of a breathy 'I love you'. And yet the words were barbed. I love you, I hate you. Codes and codes, and more codes.

L dragged himself back for the anticipated retort. This process was such torture at times. "Does this mean I'm destined to be on the bottom until your charade is no longer necessary and you can reaffirm your gender identity?"

Light nuzzled at his neck, causing him to shiver. "I am not so weak-minded as that, but it is as good an excuse as any." His voice slid into a huskier tone. "I'll enjoy tearing you down every night and making you cry out as I possess every part of your being." Light bit the pale flesh beneath his mouth for emphasis, grinning unseen at the arch that bent the detective's back and his small cry of pain. "I love how you react to me," Light murmured. He pinned L's wrists above his head with one hand, and traced the slender body with the other as L struggled. Fingernails indulged, tracing pink lines on pale skin, causing L to shudder in response. "Beautiful..."

L's breath came in shallow pants. Light's attention to his flesh was almost unbearable. He methodically wrung out every reaction, every gasp, every cry he could possibly have held within him, and he did it with such infuriating ease! He-

Velvet heat impaled his cramping body with the slow slide of violating thrusts. Beautiful. Sick.

The clever heat of the brunette's mouth fused with his. Firm hands offered him solace, respite, then slid away again, holding his hips down as a tongue wound sinuously with his. Even now, his kisses tasted of corruption.

It was L's penance, to be defiled as thoroughly as possible. Light gloated over him, his pleasure adhering to L's exposed flesh like the choking iridescent sheen of an oil spill. Lovely and desecrating. Offering up his dignity to this boy was the demanded punishment for his teasing, but also for his treachery and his existence. And Light was intent on every shred.

At times like this, L could feel Kira licking at the periphery of Light's being. He could feel the cold of cruel eyes that took his measure and plotted to devour him. A fission of fear flickered through him.

His partner caught the emotion with a smile. Hands fluttered upon his flesh, pulling anguished pleasure from his core. "Amuse me some more, L," he breathed. "Like you always do." A great coiling was gathering in L's belly, his body constricting like it was about to explode. His heart lamented the twisted form of their flawed love. That such an ideal as that could become so grossly misshapen. Was purity of emotion an impossible, romanticized notion, never to be attained?

The brunette's hastening ministrations ceased at the pinnacle of their efforts, causing L's breath to shudder out of him as he tried to get his bearings and not focus on the anguish of stalled completion. Warily, he looked into the face of perfection. Light smiled down upon him. "Beg."

Discordance shattered through L's body. "No." Begging was one of those lines in the sand. A rule, if you will. One he had crafted for himself, and was not about to break. Though at the moment, he desperately wished to at least consider it. Pride warred with his ravaged, aching body.

Light propped his chin on a hand, his smile deepening and reflecting his amusement. "I can wait here all night," he said, trailing a fingertip along L's hip. "I don't think you can."

No contact and then such a feather-light touch... L's body strained and screamed at him. "I can do anything I put my mind to," he responded weakly. Light was not as unaffected as he maintained. His breath, while schooled into a semblance of normalcy was uneven. His smile also bore the faintest strain at the edges.

Light folded over him like a kneeling angel. "Beg me," he whispered at L's ear. "Beg me to touch you." L shook his head, his breath heaving within the confines of his ribcage. A feeling akin to panic was forming in the space between his lungs. "Beg me to complete you." L's body trembled about the hardness that so fully invaded him and swallowed his pride from the inside.

"Repay me, L," came the sweet, cajoling voice. It hid blades. "Repay me for those long, cold hours spent on the floor of that cell." His hips drove in against L's, making him cry out and shudder uncontrollably. L was up to his neck in tension, tears prickling his eyes at the intensity of it. He couldn't speak. Light spoke for him. "You brought this upon yourself, my dear detective."

A sensuous mouth played at his ear with teeth and tongue. They raised the hair along the back of L's neck, made him strain to avert his head past their hold. "You made me curse you, in that dark hole you kept me in. You were the one that twisted me." A slender hand palmed his flesh, causing him to grit his teeth with the force of the grip. Rough strokes accompanied the words, "Now take me in and give me what you owe me. Let me taste your regret and humiliation. Surrender your pride."

L couldn't take it anymore. His body began to give way to the violence of completion. As it did, Light's hand fled him, and that sensation was replaced by the infinitely more intrusive feel of Light thrusting deep inside him, chasing their bodies into the final throws with the clashing of desperate hips. The brunette's mouth found his in time to consume his broken cry of release, and ride him down into the oblivion that followed.

---

TBC

Oh ho ho! I bet that surprised you!!

(Light in drag!!!!) Light was subjected to quite drastic measures in order to escape the whole pending doom of the "Kira thing". Poor guy.

If you were to go back through and re-read the parts with 'Emelia' in them, you will surely see Light shining through. Playing chess by memory - without looking at the board, drinking whiskey at the restaurant, and the exchanged looks 'Emelia' and L had before dealing with Light's father. L would never be able to interact with anyone else so easily. That was a clue. So was the fact that 'Emelia' reminded both Matsuda and Yagami-san of Light.

My apologies to anyone who had moments of thinking 'L! how unfaithful!!!!' My beta was about to gnaw my hands off while reading this chapter. Especially when L compares 'Emelia' to Light and saying that she was almost as much fun. What L was thinking of as fun is that he could harass Light extensively, and with minimal consequences (Light being limited by his 'role'). But L was also sad that Light will no longer be allowed out in public as himself since he is supposed to be dead. He wonders what could have been if only Light hadn't been Kira, if they wouldn't be able to go out together like this without the need for Light to bear handcuffs or wear disguises. He is sort of pining for a 'normal' relationship there.

So, yes. Light is alive and kickin'. I would never have him killed like that. This is a yaoi fic and, to me, the sexual tension falls off a bit when you kill off one of the lead boys. Again, I restate, this fic will have a satisfying ending. They will both be alive and together. Somehow.

(On another note, I have the next chapter done, and the story still has more demanding to be told. So... yay more chapters?)

Reviews are love, people. I'm not feeling the love.

Tell me you're still reading this? (And that you are not a zombie? I've had zombie problems lately. And they kinda wig me out.) I realize some of you reviewed umpteen years ago on an earlier chapter but......... if you can spare a few moments, tell me your thoughts on the current happenings? Feedback is the necessity of improvement. Plus, I gave you a sex scene. Cut me a break, yeah? -grin-