Chapter Text
His last sight was of a terrible smile.
L had always known. L was brilliant in a way that couldn’t truly be explained, his reasoning and processing power something that defied human imagination. A thousand facts, a million details, the smallest facial movement or nervous ticks; L’s eyes saw them all and his mind processed it with the acuity that only a supercomputer with access to the entire Internet's endless library could hope to match.
And, perhaps, matched by a young man who wore his brilliance like a cloak, a contrast to one such as L, who preferred dark room and paint-covered windows, not needing the admiration of lesser peers as proof of his majesty.
The final conclusion L’s mind reached was always the perfect answer to any question he proposed. He was, frankly, infallible.
Of course, proving his certainty was the true challenge thrust upon him by a society that could not match his intellect.
And that was how L lost.
And so in his last moment of that first life, under the cruel smile of his only equal, L died with a mix of triumph and regret.
Triumph , at the proof that his deduced truth was the truth. That his mind was truly infallible, that no human had ever been able to waver L’s complete certainty in himself.
And regret , to know that the game was over, and there would be no more fun to be had. He would never again be able to stand across from the man he could finally, in those last moments, acknowledge as his first true friend.
Light Yagami had never bored him, and for L Lawliet, that was more precious than strawberry cake.
*****
So when L woke up what seemed like seconds later, with only the shadow of a man dying on a staircase in his mind, one would have to forgive him for needing a full minute to understand that… death had not been as permanent as he’d always assumed.
He came to that conclusion just as Lind L. Tailor was finishing his speech.
“But what you’re doing…is evil !”
This time, the man did not die forty seconds later.
For a long moment, as L watched the second ticking by, and then pass , a unique stillness took him, and his mind was nearly overwhelmed by confusion…and then doubt… and then—
He was shoving up from his chair, hand stretching towards the phone at his side with uncharacteristic desperation—
But it was already too late.
That familiar feeling, that too-long, too-loud final heartbeat, followed by a crushing sensation, as if a death god had reached into his chest to tear out his heart with black-clawed hands.
Kira had met L’s challenge once more, but this time, the name he’d written had not been fake.
Light remembered, too.
L opened his mouth, one name on his lips— one name, one name, one name —but his teeth rebelled, and he bit down on his tongue so hard that only blood and flesh could spill from him.
L died with the knowledge that Light Yagami valued winning the game so much that he refused to let L even play it.
His second death was lonelier than the first.
*****
Watari must have thought L partially insane during that third life.
Sometimes, L was tempted to think he truly was, that those other lives had just been a delusion of a mind that had finally driven itself to ruin. That a chronic lack of sleep, a criminally unhealthy diet, and the inability to truly rest for even a moment without the aid of drugs— or… handcuffs— had finally broken L Lawliet.
But L was not prone to self-delusion, and the proof that was, once again, Light Yagami.
Or rather, Light Yagami’s death.
In his first life, L had investigated Kira’s life with the fascination of a child given a toy that could change into newer and more interesting forms every single day.
In his third, he’d investigated Kira’s death with a fervor of denial mixed with fury .
*****
In that third life, he’d first woken up on the floor of a hotel in Belarus, the computer before him showing a compilation of notes in his own unbreakable code, with another nearby screen showing the data of some “unsolvable” disappearance. It had been a nearly-cold case which L had revived by finding a minuscule link between all the victims and the very hotel he was currently in.
It had been a boring case when he’d received it, but it was made valuable by the fact that it had not been more boring that all the others. And L rather liked the sweets in this region, so he had come in person.
L could remember all this. L knew everything about this case, down the very bones.
But L also knew that at this time, on this date , he should have been in Japan watching Lind L. Tailor call Kira evil.
But the great detective L also knew, that in this world, the Kira case did not exist .
For the very first time in his life, the great detective L left a case unsolved and was on the first flight to Japan mere hours later.
During those hours in the air, he hacked into every government agency of relevance to confirm that yes, Light Yagami did exist in the world.
Or rather, had existed.
Light had died three weeks ago, after an inexplicable mental breakdown had landed him in the hospital.
Light Yagami’s first act upon awakening was to convince the nurse in the psychiatric department that he was perfectly sane, getting her to permit him to go to the cafeteria by himself despite her many years of training, using his charm as a brutal knife in a way L knew all too well.
Then Light made his way to the roof and calmly walked over the edge.
Light’s expression had never wavered. The hospital surveillance footage, which L poured over for many, many hours, had shown his expression to be completely calm, without a single waver in it, his emotions absent rather than hidden.
The only time Light made a single indication of humanity was when he briefly looked up at the sky while approaching the edge, and a small, ironic smile raised his lips.
Then he’d mouthed, “ Goodbye, L.”
And sent himself to his death.
L watched that moment over and over again, the sun rising and falling for the rest of the world.
He could not accept it as suicide.
He could not accept that Kira would ever choose to die. No one in this world was as determined to live as Light Yagami, no one was as sure of themselves, of their righteousness.
L was certain it must be a lie. Those final words had been a taunt, a challenge.
A better explanation was that, Light had also woken with his memories, but this time much earlier than L had, and perhaps whatever happened in that second life had made Light decide that he needed to disappear.
Perhaps Kira already existed right that moment, but in such a subtle, lethal way that the world had not yet realized it. Perhaps the game was already nearly-won, and Kira only let L live this time because he wanted an audience that could catch his brilliance, since Light’s hubris was always one that demanded worship. He was just waiting for L to catch on, perhaps had already made L a pawn in whatever master plan he’d now devised.
L was at once thrilled by the idea of this new game, and already coldly planning the exact details of Light’s execution. L would inject him personally.
An eye for an eye, after all, and Light had already claimed two of L’s deaths.
So, with uncharacteristic vehemence, L took on the case of Light Yagami’s death. A case that was not a case to anyone else.
First, L sent out feelers to every prison in the world, demanding detailed information of the state of their prisoners. Full medicals were ordered for the worst killers, as perhaps illness was Kira’s game this time, something vile and medically unsolvable, a plague that would eventually be seen as divine punishment, because it only struck only in those with blood on their hands.
It would give birth to new, insidious fear, and this time with absolutely no proof of human origin.
Once more, the Death Note would be the only proof, and this time L would catch Light using it.
L would play with Kira once more, Lawliet and Light circling their gravestones, and this time L he would win. Maybe, that was why he kept coming back.
But first… to appease the lingering paranoia that always had him questioning his own conclusions, L requested permission to exhume Light’s body, knowing that the video footage only proved that a death had occurred.
This move, of course, alerted Soichiro Yagami, who was still Chief of the NPA despite a brief sabbatical following his son’s death. The man came in full fury to demand an explanation, and L allowed them to meet face-to-face despite Watari’s quiet shock.
L, using his reputation as the world’s greatest detective, attributed his actions to an international case of serial fake-suicides. He hinted to Soichiro that Light might have been another victim in a long series of others, all characterized by a mental breakdown followed by an obvious yet calm suicide.
As proof, L had even created fake victims, whole profile, lives, and paper trails for people who had never existed. They paralleled Light’s death in undeniable ways, and none of the victims displayed any prior indication of suicidal ideation.
L said he believed them to either be kidnappings—or murders .
And Soichiro, shocked and grieved by his son’s death, took to that explanation with a fevered hope, although L surmised that he was only so easily convinced because he, too, shared L’s certainty that Light Yagami would never have taken his own life.
Light burned too brightly to die without struggle.
At the shared certainty between them, L felt a brief moment of camaraderie with Light’s father, which he attributed to the man sharing parts of Light’s genetic code.
The man had never been stupid, after all, and even in that first life it was only love that had suppressed Soichiro’s own doubt’s about his son’s guilt. Had Kira been anyone else, Soichiro’s finely honed instincts would have mirrored L’s own logic.
It was truly a poisonous emotion, love.
Still, it did aid L in this third life, because with the Chief of the NPA’s backing, no one in Japan questioned him again.
Only Watari, who knew there was no such case, displayed some hesitation. It was not doubt, L was never doubted , but Watari was concerned enough about L’s behavior that he thought it necessary to voice it. L had lied in cases before, of course; L was a masterful liar. But he’d never lied about the existence of one.
L did not begrudge the question, knowing he couldn’t explain what he knew in any way, and only said it was all wrong, all wrong, and that Watari would see it eventually.
Watari believed him.
Permission to exhume Light Yagami was granted that very day.
Excavation began moments later, the team already on standby, and L oversaw everything in person. He was heedless of the rain that tried to freeze him alongside the early morning wind, and found it almost comforting, actually, producing a calm within him. A quiet melancholy, like that one day which was simultaneously happened long ago, and yet should have happened far into the future.
He pushed Watari’s umbrella away, turned his head to the sky, and allowing the rain to soak him.
The church nearby was dark and silent, and L strained his ears, wondering if the bell would ring to signal the dawn, as had on L’s final day.
*****
It did not.
*****
A mere hour later, in a morgue headed by the country’s top coroner, who’d been summoned from his bed hours earlier, L stood vigil as the coffin was opened, gaze unwavering, unwilling to even blink.
Inside, in the type of formal suit that Light had once favored, was a human corpse that had died traumatically enough that it was difficult to recognize its features. However, the body was similar enough to L’s memory that, very briefly , he felt a moment of wavering shock.
It only lasted for an instance before he demanded a DNA analysis as proof of identify.
Soichiro was none-to-gently made into the comparison specimen, the man’s initial hesitation quickly worn down by the argument that this was part of L’s standard procedure. L was a genius that missed nothing, and his thoroughness was known to have solved the unsolvable.
L would also get Light’s mother’s and sister’s DNA later, as a second and third test to appease his own paranoia. He would order dental records to be compared as well, all of which would be used to mount his evidence that someone had gone to great lengths to make Light Yagami disappear. It would get Interpol on his side quickly if they thought this was a new serial killer with of some significant monetary means.
They wouldn’t believe it was a physically-seventeen year old boy’s plan until much later, but L was used to spoon feeding the world their much-demanded proof.
So he did not falter as the coroner proceeded to follow his orders, extracting DNA samples from multiple locations. Soichiro turned away, not able to bring himself to watch his supposed-son’s body further defiled. A corpse that had obviously fallen from a great height, and conveniently landed face-first.
L’s own gaze was unwavering as he watched the entire process, to make sure the coroner was doing it properly, and to ensure the man wouldn’t suddenly try to destroy all the evidence, before madly taking his own life or dying via heart-attack.
L’s mind was calm as he considered all these possibilities, all the while simultaneously studying the corpse’s ruined features, trying to see the indication of plastic surgery he knew must be present. Or perhaps Light had found a startlingly similar doppelganger, who fell pray to the Death Note not because of any sin, but because he was born physically similar to a serial killer?
Light must have escalated in the second life, if he could use the potentially-innocent as scapegoats. Or perhaps Light believed any sacrifice was morally good as long as it furthered Kira’s plans.
L was unsure; he could not accurately say he knew this Light Yagami anymore; it had been an unknown period of years since they had met. He would have to consider Kira’s profile all over again, make new predictions and calculate new behavioral patterns.
L figured that uncovering this corpses identify would be the first clue to what Kira now was.
And how to find him.
In fact, L was so sure , so doubtlessly certain —which was unlike him—that this of course could not be Light Yagami…that when the coroner confirmed the DNA matched, L could only stare at him.
L’s eye widened, very briefly—and then he suppressed everything and ordered the coroner to be arrested and placed under observation.
An explosion of shock and protest surrounded him, even Watari for once hesitating for a brief second before he called in the agents to take the man—pawn—into custody. His arms, legs, and teeth were all made immobile, making suicide impossible.
L would watch him personally; this man would die either by heart attack or not at all.
Soichiro protested, and demanded proof of acceptable detainment, anything that followed the laws he protected.
“Chief Yagami,” L said, flatly, his eyes like a black mirror. “Do you want to know what happened to your son or not?”
The much older man faltered, his shock turning him pale…and then he’d submitted at the promise that he could watch the captivity as well, to ensure nothing inhumane was done to the coroner. L consented, figuring the faster they would get on the same page about Kira, the easier it would be.
He was unable to actually detain the coroner for long, of course, as this was a world of laws and Soichiro Yagami came to his senses very soon regarding that.
Well, L could put the man under observation, though.
(Days passed.
But the coroner did not die.)
But it was not the coroner’s fate that convinced him, but rather that every DNA test L ordered in those initial two days, a few of which he personally conducted, all concluded one thing.
Light Yagami was dead.
*****
L’s insomnia has always been deliberating, caused not by trauma or nightmares, but simply by a mind that did not want to waste its finite time on earth by sleeping.
There was no pastime more boring .
But, once, for a very short time, that had not quite been the case.
In that month he’d been that he’d handcuffed himself to Kira, sleep had become fascinating. At first, it was an experiment of what Light Yagami might to do a defenseless, unconscious L. Would he try to get his name? To subtly reveal how he killed? To reveal a damning fact while talking in his sleep?
The curiosity had been enough to get L to sleep by his suspect’s side.
Even the singular bed had been on purpose. He’d ignored Light insistence that the chain was long that twin beds with a small space between them would suffice.
L had only blinked and blankly asked why Light saw any need for separate beds. L argued that he was hygienic, his clothes always freshly washed despite being identical in style, and that his sleeping posture was actually very tame, if foetal-like.
Light had looked increasingly irritated the longer the monotone speech had continued.
“Has it ever occurred to you, Ryuuzaki, that I simply don’t want to share a bed with you ?” Light had snapped, so prim and arrogant still despite his obvious, baffling difference after the imprisonment.
“Why wouldn’t you?” L had asked, eyes wide and naive. “Unless…does Light-kun perhaps feel some latent sexual attraction or homoerotic intent towards me, and can not remain calm in my presence long enough to fall asleep?”
Light had been speechless for a long moment, and then so furious that he’d kicked L off the bed. L had dragged him down by the chain, and they’d fought so badly that in the end, the first night was spend on the floor, both of them passed out in exhaustion.
Still side by side on a flat surface, so L’s goal was technically achieved.
Satisfied, L had slept remarkably well for 3 whole hours.
Light, apparently, had not found comfort on the hard floor, and did not protest sharing a bed from then on. In fact, Light insisted on at least seven hours a night, ignoring L’s incredulous protest, and insisting that L had no right to deny him rest.
He also, most likely out of spite, refused to let L use the computer until he fell asleep, stating that the screen was too bright and L’s break-neck typing speed too loud.
L called him a princess. Light called him a nightmare.
They fought again, once more dragging each other to the floor amid punches and kicks. But, eventually…L did give in. Because he could not out-argue Light on the medical benefits of sleep.
There was simply too much proof .
The bullshit and lies L could feed others did not work on Light Yagami’s steel-trap mind.
“And you wouldn’t want your potential suspect to suffer from sleep deprivation, would you, Ryuuzaki? Every lawyer imaginable would call any potential confession you trick out of me coercion, one brought about by torture; the conviction would never stick.”
L worked his lip with a thumb and asked why Light felt the need to plan his court defence if he wasn’t feeling guilty? Light snapped that he was doing the opposite by demanding sleep, thus further proving his innocence.
L called him manipulative enough to be Kira.
Light advised him to add ‘needs to sleep’ to Kira’s criminal profile and perhaps start the investigation anew from there.
They didn’t fight that time. Light only turned his back to him.
And so, defeated and sulking about it, L lay there in the darkness, facing Light’s back until the other’s breathing grew slow and rhythmic.
And every night thereafter, L found himself laying there quietly, for the fifteen-odd minutes it usually took Light Yagami to fall asleep, and watching his main suspect for…no reason in particular.
Light did not sleep talk, nor did he have nightmares. His slept in a straight, polite line, his limbs never leaving his claimed territory. Rarely did Light even move during the night, L knew, because he’d spent quite some time tracking the younger man’s breathing, the rise and fall of his body, the lines of his form hidden in the dark.
L found that the sight was never boring, as he traced the curve of Light’s ear, the flutter of his lashes. And, sometimes, when Light decided to sleep on his back, L would stare curiously at his profile, hovering close over him and trying to see beyond superficial beauty to the mystery that hid within.
He’d gotten punched, once, when Light woke up to see him so close. But that hadn’t made L stop, and eventually, Light resigned himself to it.
So L would stare and stare at that expression of peace on Kira’s face, and wonder if maybe his deduction was wrong…or if Light Yagami was the most cold blooded murderer in history, his acts having no impact on his psyche at all.
But the sleeping boy provided no clues, and so eventually L would just get back to work.
And so a new relationship with sleep, although an adjacent one, developed in L’s life.
But, sometimes, it took Light a very long time to fall asleep, his own mind weighted down by thoughts. In those times they would talk, their words calm in the darkness, Light’s animosity blunted by exhaustion and L’s own provoking words unwilling to leave his tongue. They’d talk about everything and anything, their minds matching the other’s train of thought perfectly.
And, sometimes, while waiting for Light to sleep, or in the lull between those long conversations, L would end up falling asleep himself.
That period of time, when L could accept sleep as something more than a hated necessity, was not very long in the context of L’s nearly twenty five years…but it was long enough that L knew to miss it.
*****
Light Yagami was…dead?
*****
Soichiro Yagami took offence to the question of whether he might have some other, illegitimate son. He punched L so hard the detective crashed to the floor.
L did not retaliate nor try to stop him from leaving.
He’d only crouched there on the floor and studied the polished wood, and told Watari to investigate any potential extramarital relationships Soichiro Yagami had had sixteen to nineteen years prior.
All the women the chief had encountered were to be investigated as well, and the location of any children they might have.
Oh, and L still needed DNA samples from the mother and sister.
Watari had not moved for a very, very long moment, until L finally looked up, expressionlessly meeting those searching eyes.
Watari had finally nodded and left him alone, and L went back to staring at the polished floor, seeing a blurry shadow of his back hair and white skin.
*****
Light Yagami was dead.
*****
The Death Note. It has to be.
Someone must have it. A new user had unwittingly stolen Kira from L.
Somehow, Light did not get it in this life. What changed? Did he not remember? No, why would he have said “Goodbye, L” in his final moments otherwise?
L’s deductions were not wrong . His profile of Kira would never accept suicide as a possibility higher than 5 percent. And even then, only if it happened when Kira was completely cornered and defeated, and saw suicide as his only attempt to escape from Justice.
Light would never have calmly walked off that roof, even if he’d decided not to be Kira again. This was a world where no criminals had been killed and thus no crime could ever be proven. In this world, Light actually was completely innocent.
There was no reason for him to take his own life.
So, it must have been the Death Note. Someone got to it before Light, someone who either remembered Kira enough to hate him, or who hated Light for a separate reason.
So L began by interviewing every single person related to Light Yagami in this current world.
Teachers, classmates, those who called themselves Light’s friends (An unintentional lie, because Light Yagami, L was sure, did not have friends), and any love interests from kindergarten to his senior year of high school.
L even put a team on Misa Amane, following the once-but-not-yet Second Kira suspect everywhere she went. Her apartment was bugged from top to bottom, in violation of many of the international laws that L saw as suggestions.
Nothing related to the Death Note or Kira was found. But L did not let that dismay him, because eventually Misa Amane would get a second death note, and then L would finally have tangible proof that…
That those lives had been real .
They had to be. My imagination could not have so perfectly created Light Yagami .
Nor could delusion explain how everything L read from Light’s files were things he already knew. There was no possible explanation to that except that L had previously read these same files.
Still, L went so far as to confirm with Watari that they had, in fact, never investigated Light Yagami before, ignoring the concern that sparked in his handler's eyes at that absurd question.
Watari thought L should sleep more, expressing worry that his patterns had gotten markedly worse since they’d come to Japan.
L thanked him for his concern and continued reading Light’s files.
*****
Light Yagami’s final day had been on the second-last Saturday of November, three weeks before L had regained his memories.
Light had apparently had a psychotic break the day before in class.
The English teacher stuttered all through L’s interview. He’d apparently had to ask Light a question over and over before the young man had even responded, and, yes , the man had gotten angry, but he defended himself by stating that he was in his rights when a student ignored him. If he’d known Light was in such a fragile emotional state, then of course he wouldn’t have pushed him.
But he claimed it was because Light was a genius with a bright future. The teacher only had his best interest at heart.
L didn’t care about the man’s motives and desperate attempts to avoid any culpability in what many mourned to be the suicide of the brightest mind in a generation.
L trusted only in concrete proof, viewing human stories as simply a good starting point in the pursuit of evidence.
“Please stay on topic, Mr. Yoshida. Now, what time would you say this event was?”
The English class was the second to last period, an hour before the end of the school day. That day had been just moments before the end of the lecture, so Yoshida estimated it was approximately 2:10 pm.
Seeing that Light hadn’t been paying attention, he’d asked Light to translate the final paragraph in their textbook.
L leafed through that very text now and found the passage in question.
Boring. Easy.
How had Light tolerated such a banal life?
“How do you know Yagami-kun wasn’t paying attention?”
Light had been staring out the window at the time.
“And is lack of attention characteristic of Yagami-kun?”
Sometimes, if the lesson was too easy. So the man was aware that he’d been “teaching” a genius how to count to five. It was likely spite that caused him to call out the Light in particular, rather than a student that might have actually needed to learn the material.
He’d hoped to catch Light unaware, perhaps to feed his own ego by punishing him before his peers. A petty tactic of men who’d wished to rise high but didn’t have the aptitude.
That had never been Light’s case; Light Yagami’s problem was that he’d been given a tool that let him touch the sun and eclipse the world in his shadow.
“Yagami-kun ignored you how many times?”
The man guessed 3 or 4.
“So he was either deep in his thoughts…or staring at something.”
L pulled up a blueprint of the school. The campus was of three rectangular buildings surrounding a large field in the centre, with a running track on one half, and a garden on the other. The school fence and gate made up for the fourth side of this large rectangle. Yoshida’s classroom faced the opposite building, overlooking the grassy field below.
It was a popular area for students to rest in between classes, to eat and converse with peers. One would have to pass through it to reach the gate and leave the school.
“And what happened when Yagami-kun finally acknowledged you?”
Light Yagami had stood up abruptly, never taking his eyes off the window. The class had all stared at him, noting how he suddenly looked unwell. There had been sweat on his face, and he’d been breathing harshly.
Then, without warning, he’d reached for the small knife they used to sharpen their pencils, and had cut a large, deep gash into his own hand, from palm all the way down to his forearm.
Blood had flown like a river, making the class scream in horror, but Light himself had not. He’d only stared at it, frozen—and then Light had shoved out of the classroom and left. Yoshida was too stunned to follow immediately, needing a moment to process what happened, and by the time he finally gave chase, Light had disappeared.
Every one of Light’s classmates L interviewed corroborated the story. No one had seen it coming. The general sentiment was that of all the people they’d expected to crack from the pressure, Light Yagami was not one of them.
*****
By the time Yoshida had enough presence of mind to alert the authorities and a search had been called, Light Yagami must have already lost a significant amount of blood. The tail they’d found indicated that he hadn’t bothered trying to staunch the bleeding.
L pieced together his behaviour using multiple interviews. Light had been rushing. He’d been spotted striding past some classrooms, holding his arm. He was seen going from the third floor and reappearing on the first. Then he’d strode across the field, to an area visible from the English Class windows, stopped briefly to pick something up, and then turned back the way he’d come to re-enter the school.
L’s heart had begun to pound at the news, biting his thumbnail to the quirk. The girl who’d seen it, from a classroom high above, had not known what he’d picked up, but she was sure it had been small—
And black.
No one had seen where Light had gone after re-entering the school, which was no surprise, since he was eventually found behind the main building, in a deserted area that only the caretakers frequented.
The groundskeeper had been the one to find Light, unconscious in a steadily spreading pool of blood. He’d called the authorities at once, and luckily the paramedics had already been on the school grounds searching for him. He'd been immediately rushed to the hospital.
No one had bothered to investigate the scene, thinking only that Light had been suicidal, and seeking a place no one would find him.
“What is behind the school?” L asked, monotone, as he studied the blueprints.
The groundskeeper stuttered, surprised, and then explained that it was mostly storage, alongside the trash bins, and an incinerator.
L slumped forward in his seat, holding his knees tight to his chest.
“Who cleaned the scene?”
The man did not know.
L was soon informed that it had been a private cleaning company, hired by the principal to clean the school over that weekend. Usually, the students would handle the cleaning themselves, but no sane teacher would have allowed them to clean a scene like that .
L quickly found the company, and the trio of women and one man who’d taken the job were called in for an interview. It took a whole day to get them in front of him, and L had paced the whole time, biting his thumb.
The cleaners described all the locations they’d found blood, which trailed across the school like a phantom’s passing. It corroborated what the students had said.
One of the women mentioned something of interest: the blood where Light collapsed had been smeared, as if he’d had been dragging himself towards some goal. Had they not been told it was suicide, the woman would have assumed Light was trying to escape something.
“Where was he going?” L asked, but he already knew.
The incinerator.
L’s jaw clenched.
Light’s emotions must have gotten the better of him; he hadn’t bothered to staunch the bleeding. A mistake, and perhaps the only real chance L had of confirming what he already suspected.
Kira’s emotional outbursts had always been his downfall.
“Was there a black notebook on the scene?”
*****
The last person L interviewed was the nurse from the psychiatric ward. It was not necessary; L already knew all the facts he needed to finally close the Kira case.
But he wanted to speak to her because she was the last person to speak to Light Yagami. Perhaps, in this life, the only person.
The woman had since resigned from the hospital, but L knew she would have been let go regardless. Allowing a recently suicidal patient to leave unsupervised was perhaps the greatest mistake anyone in her field could ever make.
But L, despite a wave of personal anger he could not deny, could not blame her.
Light Yagami had perfected his act of innocence long before he’d met this unwitting woman. This was the man who’d nearly convinced L that perhaps he’d been wrong after all.
Convincing a stranger that he was perfectly in his right mind would have been child’s play.
L could guess what he’d said, but despite that, he still asked, just to hear what Light had been like in that time before he’d appeared in the hallway, his form captured by cold cameras.
She said he’d been charming.
She said he’d talked her into letting him go almost before she’d realized it. She had been busy with other, less obedient patients, and Light had ‘not wanted to add to her workload.’
He said he was grateful to be alive, and all he wanted was a quick snack, so he could feel like himself again. He spoke fondly about how his sister would be visiting soon, and wanted to get her something too.
The nurse said that in all her years, she’d never seen a patient like him.
She would have sworn his smile was genuine.
*****
L’s search for a new Kira ended with a black notebook found in the middle of a landfill.
It had been packed into one of the perfect cubes of refuse. The search took six weeks; the first two spent strong-arming the Japanese government into allowing the mayhem, and the last four on overturning the three most likely landfills.
The Death Note was delivered to him on a beautiful sunny day. L was crouched before the window, open just a sliver, and he stared down over the cheerful city.
It was a long time before he finally turned around, seeing the world’s greatest murder weapon laying innocently on his table in a clear plastic bag.
It was everything L remembered it to be, although the cover had been torn by a frenzied knife dragged across it over and over. Light hadn’t done a good job of truly destroying it; he must have been too weak by the time he realized he wouldn’t make it to the incinerator.
The black material was hanging pitifully, but it still clung to the spine.
The Gothic lettering was still legible underneath the brown stain of old blood.
With a pair of gloves, L took it out and carefully opened it.
The rules were legible too. As expected, the last two were not there; they’d been a lie just as he’d guessed. A trap, L now saw: one designed just for him.
If L hadn’t tried to test these rules back then, would Kira have lost?
Or were there traps within traps beyond what he’d lived to see?
He might never know.
With that thought in mind, L carefully took out a pen and placed it upon one of the cleaner pages. On his nearby computer was a feed showing a criminal slated to die one hour later.
L stared at his face and wrote down his name.
*****
It did not work.
L realized, once more, that he had underestimated Light Yagami. The notebook had been destroyed after all.
Was that whole show then…just an act for L to catch? Or had Light truly been broken by a first and second life L would never know of?
The ultimate, unsolved mystery.
L did not sleep for many days after that, and when unconsciousness finally did take him, it was amid-sleep deprived hallucinations and a needle in his arm.
*****
L couldn’t quite convince himself to leave Japan. Not yet.
Not until the time passed when the second Kira was scheduled to emerge. When Misa received the Notebook, L would take it from her, and he would have his answers from the only creature that could understand what was happening better than he could.
L wanted to talk to Rem.
So he watched and waited, viewing the footage obsessively, sometimes breaking down and watching Light’s last day once more, until the words “Goodbye, L” were embedded in his psyche in that voice that he hadn’t heard in two lifetimes.
On the twelfth of March, something finally happened. While walking home, Misa met a stalker who’d attempted to kill her. L had watched the exchange until the very last possible second—before he’d order the agent to save her.
Misa did not leave his sight until she was brought in for an interview.
L used the agent that saved her as his proxy, outfitting the man with a hearing device so he could repeat L’s questions. Misa, terrified but grateful, did not show a bit of reluctance.
L began by asking her if she’d met anyone ‘odd’ recently, or experienced any strange events, like perhaps objects appearing or disappearing in her home.
L did not mention a notebook, but it was unneeded, as Misa talked for a very long time, in excruciatingly tedious detail, on any and all topics she could think of. It was intermittent with gratitude towards the proxy for saving her life, and perhaps the stirrings of infatuation, if L’s assessment was correct (and it was).
He instantly made use of Misa’s budding emotions to get every detail out of her, down to the most personal and irrelevant ones. And yet, everything she gave him was completely in line with L’s own investigation. It was all things he already knew .
To L’s ears, Misa Amane’s life was perfectly banal, her obsessive stalkers included.
He lost interest as soon as he confirmed she had no knowledge of or power over death. The greatest proof of it was that Misa showed no response to the casual mention of Light Yagami. Or to any mention of “Kira”.
The confusion on her face was so genuine that L had to accept it as truth, because Misa Amane had never been a particularly talented actress.
Still, it did not clear his suspicion entirely, for humans always had the potential to surprise, especially those that were willing to murder thousands before going back home to paint their nails pink.
L kept Misa’s stalker imprisoned, but the man knew nothing of relevancy. When he was still alive two months later, L sent him to the authorities to be convicted of attempted murder.
L kept two agents following Misa, allowing the agent who’d saved her to get personally close, using gratitude as access to her life.
The date the second Kira was supposed to appear came and passed. L thought, for a long time, of that stalker.
Just who, exactly, would have saved Misa Amane in another life?
*****
Years passed.
Crime never ended, despite the promise that hung over the world that L could solve any case.
Light Yagami had not understood that to stop crime, one would have to erase human nature. But then, for all that Light played at the role of human, L had always been the one between them that actually understood their species.
The world moved on, not knowing that the would-be greatest murderer in history had once again escaped justice.
L moved on as well. He kept his title of the world’s greatest detective, chasing after the cases that interested him, solving one after another, following leads to the four corners of the world in his pursuit of a challenge and sweets.
He brought with him only his laptop and a case carrying a plastic-covered notebook. No Shinigami ever appeared to claim it, and L’s insomnia grew persistent to the point that only drugs could solve it.
In the meantime, Near and Mello grew up.
L eventually chose Near as his heir, because Near was ever cold and apathetic, and L was assured that sentiment would never poison this successor. He also chose Near because it was what Mello needed.
As predicted, Mello rebelled against him and left Wammy’s to be independent, claiming that he would prove to the world that L had made a mistake. Mello promised he would win, and Near would be forced to admit it one day.
L did not stop him.
Mello burned with a part of L that had long since faded away; L hoped that Mello never stopped struggling for victory.
*****
L retired.
Not of old age. Not of injury. Not for any tangible reason.
L retired because he’d grown bored. Or maybe, because he’d finally acknowledged that he was bored.
He visited Watari’s grave one last time, standing under the English fog, and then made his way to the airport.
Hours later, he sat in a hotel room in Japan, watching a live video feed of a woman playing with a little girl, the two of them squealing. Years later, now a mother and famous star, Misa Amane no longer dyed her hair gold nor put it in pigtails.
L reached for his phone to give the sniper the signal.
His hand spammed before he could touch it, his heart stopping at that all-to-familiar crushing.
L Lawliet died finally knowing exactly what mistake he’d made in his first life.
His third death was one of anticipation.
*****
He woke to Lind L. Tailor dying of a heart attack on national television.