Chapter Text
L laid flat on his stomach in bed with his covers over his head. His stomach hadn’t stopped twisting into ugly shapes for the past hour. He couldn’t focus on casework, not like this. Not when all but one of his successors were buried six feet below. The thought of B caused the detective to grab his bedsheets in his fists, making them to stretch and slide slightly off of the top corners of his bed. B. Why did it have to be B? Couldn’t it have been Mello? Near? Man, even Atlas might’ve been better since, unlike Beyond, she straight up ignored the detective if they ever happened to cross paths. But no, it had been B. The one who had practically been his brother before L burrowed himself under numerous cold cases that only he should bear the weight of solving at such a young age. They were grown now; at sixteen, L had been noticed by the Prime Minister, his first tie to any form of government. And Beyond, just as old as he was, became a murderer.
He knew B had been ticked off at him, but he hadn’t considered the possibility of such retaliation. Hadn’t he been protective over Mello, at least from what L had seen after his “classes” involving his younger two successors? No matter how far L pushed his face into his pillow, trying to block any light from seeping into his eyes, the image of a disturbed Beyond holding a small boy beside the body of his closest friend wouldn’t leave his mind. L should’ve never allowed A and B to take care of Mello and Near. Why hadn’t he sucked it up when they fought and just kept addressing the problem head on like any other puzzle he solved for the police?
A gentle knock against his bedroom door caused L to curl up into himself under the increasingly warm heat of the blanket, his knees digging into his rib cage, somehow how both feeling physically uncomfortable, yet emotionally releasing. A creaky wheel notified the detective that a cart had been wheeled in, most definitely holding sweets on top of it. For once, there was no ceaseless hunger clawing at his stomach. He stayed underneath the blankets childishly, even when he heard Watari address him.
“L? I brought you some food. Would you please sit up and take some? You haven’t eaten today and it’s already evening.”
“Mello’s dead…” L’s mutter vibrated against his bedding, just hardly audible for his caretaker. “It’s been approximately nine hours and twenty-three minutes since then.”
“Do you think he’d want you to stop eating just because he has?” The statement made irritation seep into L’s already heavy eyelids, as he finally flipped the blanket partially out from over his head. It landed slightly on his neck, but he made no move to adjust it any further. He didn’t bother to crane his neck as his dull eyes blinked up at his caretaker’s impassive face. Is Mr. Wammy simply unbothered by such casualties or is he putting on a brave face in front of his greatest invention? The detective wouldn’t dare voice such a thought out loud. Despite there being a fifty-fifty chance between those two options, Quillsh Wammy was not as uncaring as he may pretend to be. He never called L “son”, nor did he ask to be addressed as “father” when the child had come under his care. But L wasn’t blind to the favoritism. He didn’t see other children offered sweets at a moments notice, nor inventions created for their own convenience. He didn’t see Watari fight the urge to hug other children and settle with a hand on their shoulder as praise for whatever hard work they had done. He didn’t see Watari’s smile grow so warm towards anybody else, nor the corners of his eyes wrinkle so much with each grin. So why was it so difficult to convey (or at least, pretend to convey) any sort of sadness over three children dying while in front of L?
“I believe my symptoms are quite common for people experiencing the grieving period after a loved one’s death,” L retorted. His eyes trailed over to the blank wall his bed’s headboard rested against. He could feel a dip in the mattress as warmth seeped into his side. He made a feeble attempt to give Watari more room to sit on the single bed. A hand rested on his head, slightly scratching his nape. L’s throat welled up with guilt when the sensation let the muscles in his shoulders relax. He hadn’t been touched in a while, and now didn’t feel like a time that he deserved it.
“I understand your symptoms,” Watari’s voice rumbled above him, “but you still need to take care of your bodily functions. I don’t remember you drinking any water today, and I believe you must be dehydrated after the events of this morning.” Well, that was one way to put it. L uncurled one of his arms from underneath his chest in order to reach his lips and start peeling off their ever scabbing outer layer. He didn’t know how to stop; it wasn’t like he had been biting them. And there was always a small release of relief whenever a tiny spot of pain pricked his lips with each stubborn pull. He attempted to roll onto his back, choosing not to address the growing discontent on Watari’s face when he watched what L was doing to himself.
“I simply have no desire to do so at the moment. I will take care of such things later when they become necessities, but for now, there are much more pressing matters at hand.” The detective could see the parental scolding work its way into the muscles of Watari’s face before he even spoke a word.
“Now is not the time for police work. You need to take a break for-“
“I was referring to the successor program.” The words died on Watari’s tongue as L locked eyes with him. He set his jaw in place, trying to convey a serious, immovable determination despite the fact that the boy still hadn’t sat up in bed. Come to think of it, that’s what most people did when they wanted to be taken seriously, correct? He decided to do so, albeit sort of slowly and about ten seconds after he had already decided to make his eyes seem cold and steely. No words were exchanged for almost an entire minute, but L didn’t mind. If it took that long for Wammy to sort the thoughts through his head, weighing the pros and cons before finally agreeing with L, then that’s what would have to be done. To his delight, the old man eventually nodded his jittery head. He seemed to have formed an idea since his eyes lightened up slightly as he grabbed a small saucer holding anpan and handing it to L.
“If you promise to eat at least this, I’ll go talk to the rest of the administration about the program’s dismantlement right now.” Finding the deal satisfactory, the detective nodded his head and accepted the plate. A smile slid onto Watari’s face as he looked at L with that same warm gaze only ever directed at him. He patted the boy’s shoulder twice before heaving himself off of the bed, wheeling the squeaking cart away with him as he left L by himself. L looked down at the roll, his tongue feeling as if it retracted further into his throat when he processed the idea of actually consuming the food. But a deal was a deal. With a grimace, he braced himself before sinking his teeth into the warm bread as the sweet filling he usually enjoyed oozed into his mouth.
That was years ago…L shouldn’t have blindly trusted in empty promises. But they had sounded so good when wrapped in ribbon by the person he loved and trusted the most. That’s why it stung to find out that the only way the successor program would be allowed to be taken apart was if Beyond was kept alive. The reasoning being that L “still needed a successor”. It hurt. If that was what needed to be done to prevent the deaths of other children, then so be it. But the detective couldn’t fathom why Watari thought it was a good idea to just have B locked away only to be ripped out into the open when the time was ready. Who’s to say he wasn’t still brimming with hate and revenge? L didn’t know all of the details of where Beyond had been taken, but from what he had heard, it didn’t sound like an ordinary prison.
L, despite reluctantly accepting the deal, still wished that Beyond had been executed. He killed a child. Took part in three deaths. This was the sort of thing that L was supposed to be judging when he solved murder cases. But suddenly, when it would affect the great plans Watari had for the detective, L’s say no longer mattered. This one refusal made L realize that he perhaps did have a bit of a rebellious nature tucked away inside of him. He had begun searching for a way to get what he wanted. On the surface, he did what he was told, kept solving cases, let his fame grow and grow. But the idea of B’s death never truly left his mind.
Finally, he had found the perfect excuse. It took a bit of convincing (maybe a little bit of lying) to get Watari to spill Beyond’s location. He told the old man again and again that he needed his successor. It had been a difficult case that he was working on, and surely it could be solved when two geniuses sat down together and worked it out. For a short period of time, Watari refused, but more and more deaths related to the case kept popping up, leading him to finally cave in.
The place B was kept in looked like any other office building from the outside. Even upon entrance, L spotted cubicles with computers and a normal looking front desk assistant. But after the lady at the front heard who he was, she led him down three flights of stairs, to a dimly lit corridor lined with solid metal doors. A morbid curiosity made L ponder just how many of them actually contained people and for what cause. He was directed to door fourteen (just one digit off the number Beyond loved for some odd reason) and told to knock a certain pattern for when he wanted to leave the room.
L’s determined thoughts were put on hold briefly as he glanced down at the attendant in confusion.
“Can’t I just call for you? Surely someone could hear me past the door.” The lady’s lips pursed as she sighed and looked away.
“Just follow the procedure, sir,” she said before leaving him, her footsteps echoing as L waited to be let in. He put his hand on the doorknob, listening for the beep that would tell him when the door was unlocked. Upon hearing the buzz, he twisted the handle and pulled open the heavy door. He was just barely able to slide inside before the door swung back closed. The first thing L noticed was that there was no handle on the other side. The second thing that caught his attention was how much brighter this room had been lit in comparison to the hall. And lastly, the detective’s eyes landed on the body of a man who was curled up on the floor, his back facing L.
L’s teeth clenched when B slowly twisted his spine to look at him. Without cosmetics, this B looked hardly like the one L had grown up with. The only thing that remained unchanged were those dark eyes which dissected every movement, every twitch of a muscle that L made. A smile, no, more like a smirk, etched itself onto Beyond’s face as he slowly pushed himself up onto his knees, his elbows still resting at ninety degrees against the hard floor. L already felt the coldness from below seeping into his feet, so he could hardly understand what possessed the other man to stick close to the ground.
“You’re real,” Beyond’s voice cracked with disuse, the words acting as if they were an arrow striking through L’s chest, despite their lack of true malice. A laugh began bubbling its way up his successor’s scratchy throat, his overgrown hair falling slightly over his face as he did so. It had reached about an inch past his shoulders at this point.
L clicked his tongue, forcing one foot in front of the other as he got closer to the prisoner. Tossing his hands into his pockets, he looked down at B and asked in a smooth, unbothered tone,
“Have you been hallucinating me?”
“Well, not just you, Lawly. You’re not special.” B’s grin grew wider, resembling an ape baring his teeth before being provoked to strike. He rolled onto his back, disregarding any sense of professionalism in front of the detective. Although, it already seemed hard enough for this meeting to be professional, seeing as there was no furniture inside the cell to sit on, no table to separate the mad men. Beyond raised his hand upwards, motioning above L’s head with a flick of his wrist. “But your numbers are a more vibrant red this time. So you must be real, hm? Unless my mind is playing tricks on me due to the lack of color in here. Would you let me touch you? Just to see?”
The detective bit the inside of his cheek, shaking his head “no” even before the word could leave his mouth. This didn’t dissuade Beyond; no, it seemed to just fuel his resolve as he shot his already outreached hand up towards L’s shirt. The latter was fast enough to smack the hand away and retreat backwards a few steps, no longer hiding his glare. His successor didn’t even seem upset by this. B simply whispered, “I knew it,” while holding his smacked hand close to his own chest.
With a heavy sigh, L crouched down so that he was closer in height to Beyond, all while keeping himself rocking on his heels, ready to bounce back upwards if necessary.
“I need a favor from you, B.”
“A favor?” B’s eyes twinkled as he rolled onto his side, propping his head up with one of his hands while smirking at the detective. “We both know how well that went the last time you asked me for a favor.”
“Then call it a demand,” L snapped, before reaching behind himself without turning around and knocking on the door twice. A heavy folder fell through the flap, which the detective took while keeping his eyes trained on his successor the entire time. He knew Beyond wasn’t sorry for Mello’s death, but that didn’t stop L from getting riled up when being reminded of it.
The detective roughly carded through the contents of the folder while B stared at him lazily, the former peeling out a few laminated police reports and tossing them to the floor unceremoniously. When a stack of about twenty papers had piled up, L shut the folder and tossed it to the side, his eyes narrowing at the indifferent man in front of him.
“Watari says you were able to look at a few of these cases before I got ahold of them.”
“Hmm.”
“Would you like to humor me with the connection between all of these?”
“Rather than you stole them from me before I was done?” Beyond jested. He raised himself up into a cross legged position, shifting his voice to take on the same octave and diction as L’s. “They all died of heart attacks.”
“Yes…and quit that,” L didn’t bother to verbally question just how Beyond had been capable of mimicking him. Now, he was slightly grateful that the cue to leave was a series of knocks, not a request by his voice. Choosing not to humor B, L continued, “There have been much more than these popping up recently. All done to people with criminal or shady backgrounds. I believe there’s someone behind this, causing it to happen through unnatural means, although I’m unsure just how unnatural…”
“So that’s why you’re visiting me,” Beyond chuckled, resting his elbows against his knees and clasping his face in his hands. “You finally believe me about my eyes! You know, you’re the first visitor that I’ve-“
“I don’t believe your fabricated tale about your eyes,” L shut down and squished the idea before letting it get even deeper into B’s head. “However, I would like help solving this case. B is for backup, and I’ve decided to resort to my backup plan: allowing you to work beside me for now.”
Now it was Beyond’s turn to narrow his eyes, his smile starting to morph into a scowl. He looked L up and down, as if any sort of body language might reveal what the detective’s true intentions were.
“Backup? Seriously? The great and mighty L is asking for help? I don’t believe it, what’s your true goal?”
“You’ve been here for what? Six, maybe eight years?” L deflected. “If you help me solve this case, I’ll grant you your freedom. Forgive you for what you’ve done.” Beyond started laughing, not believing a word L said, but the detective continued speaking over him. “My true goal is to solve this case. The public are calling the perpetrator ‘Kira’. He’s killed hundreds more people than the cases you were given.”
“So you think I’m better than you? That I’ll find out who he is, how he kills, because you can’t?”
“Yes,” the detective hissed through his teeth. He didn’t miss the way Beyond’s eyes twinkled in amusement. There was no way B was this sadistic before imprisonment.
“You’re lying…” Beyond sang out, scooching towards L by an inch. By now, his hands were propped out in front of him on the floor, as if they were the only thing keeping him from falling (or lunging) forward. “But…I suppose I’ll accept. It is quite drab in here, even with the puzzles you all have been giving me.”
Hope fluttered from inside L’s chest into his throat. He had him. Trapped. Right where he wanted him. It was almost too easy. Promising freedom to who would be soon a dead man, just another pawn for L to use in order to find out Kira’s abilities.
“Then, let’s-“
“Ah ah ah-“ B interrupted, holding his index finger out as if he was going to shush the detective, but refrained himself. “I have a few…demands.” And there was the catch. Of course the promise of freedom didn’t satisfy him. L moved his thumb up to his mouth, biting his skin hard as he tried to regulate his frustration.
“What demands?”
“Number one,” Beyond moved his index finger closer towards himself, now letting its purpose be to represent a number, “I wish for a haircut. Some makeup, perhaps. You know how I like to look, and it’s been…so long since I’ve looked like me, hasn’t it?”
While the notion of B looking like L once more slightly irritated the detective, he was surprised to realize that he wasn’t completely opposed to the request. At least then B would look like B. And if L planned to have Beyond’s face broadcast everywhere, as he would claim to be L attempting to catch Kira, then the latter would never even fathom the idea of the detective looking the same as his dead stand-in.
“Fine…what else?” Beyond smirked in victory, raising a second finger up.
“Two…I want something sweet to be given to me whenever I request of it. The food here is quite bland.”
“So you basically want what Watari brings me?” He filled in the blanks.
“Not exactly,” the prisoner corrected with a shake of his head, “I’d probably vomit if I tried consuming the sugar infested snacks you have since my body hasn’t processed anything sweet in ages. We’ll discuss further details later. Thirdly-“
“How many requests do you have?” L withdrew his thumb from his mouth. Yes, it wasn’t terrible making promises to a dead man, but the detective had no idea just how much B would ask for and this was starting to get ridiculous.
“This is the last one,” B reassured with an amused smile. He leaned forward, and it took much willpower from the detective to not lean away, not to give in. Even when his successor was about two inches from his face. “No more calling me B. And not ‘backup’ either. No Beyond Birthday, no Benjamin…”
“Then what am I supposed to refer to you as?” Now seemed like a good time to finally push himself up back into his hunched stand. “I need you to pretend to be L in a public broadcast with your name exposed, to test Kira. But I am not calling you by my name before that happens.”
“I never said you had to, Lawly.” Beyond rose up, his knees making audible popping noises as he did so. His eyes had rose to meet L’s gaze as he began to stand up, and now they looked down at the detective when B had finally reached a normal standing position. “I want you to call me Rue Ryuzaki.”
“Rue Ryuzaki,” the name rolled off L’s tongue slowly with unfamiliarity. He hadn’t heard a name like that before. Sensing the detective’s puzzlement, Beyond’s grin widened once more.
“You’ll never believe what the reverse of the Japanese characters for ‘Rue’ is.”
With a frown, the detective realized his successor had stolen his name. At least it wasn’t literally the letter ‘L’.
“B-“
“Ryuzaki,” Beyond hissed, snatching one of L’s wrists and squeezing it tightly. The detective gritted his teeth,
“Ryuzaki…” B released his hold. “…you believe that the public will think the greatest detective’s name is actually just an anagram of his alias?”
“Oh, come now, have some whimsy,” Beyond graced L with the action of stepping backwards a bit. Any gratitude that might’ve formed from the action was immediately erased when he shuffled his hands into his pockets and slouched his back to imitate L. “That’s far more believable than someone actually using their name- and better yet, their name just being a letter? I mean, how messed up is that?” B’s eyes playfully flicked up to the spot above L’s head, where he had claimed long ago he had discovered the detective’s name.
While the comment just made L even more annoyed, he tried to shove the insult away from his mind. It wouldn’t matter soon. Instead of a criminal who was set to be executed being L’s stand-in, like the detective had originally planned, it would be Beyond. That was how he would get rid of him. Surely Kira would get insulted by the speech L had drafted up for his successor to read. So, the detective simply nodded his head, jaw clenched as Beyond laughed aloud heartily. His laughter grew harder and louder as he was led out of the prison cell, never to set foot inside there ever again.
A few weeks later, televisions across the globe broadcast a live message at different times with B proclaiming himself to be L, with a name plate in front of him labeled “Rue Ryuzaki”.
That was how the general public learned that there were some who Kira could not kill.