Death Note: Immortal
Title: Immortal
Characters: L, Light
Rating: PG
Word Count: 497
Summary: L has never believed in gods, even after Kira came along.
Author’s Notes: It’s been a loooong time since I posted any fanfic, but in that time I’ve been writing fanfic-writing out bits and pieces, trying desperately to regain that spark I once felt. I began writing this oneshot in May-that should tell you how much writer’s block I was running into. But fortunately it’s finished now (because inspiration always seems to strike whenever I’m studying ^_^) and I can post it! Hooray! Please excuse the crappy title, though--no better one presented itself, and I've spent enough time on this already.
L had never believed in God, any gods. L believed in Logic, Deduction, and Elimination-his Holy Trinity, and he had done so long before he was first a child under the splashed colors of the stained windows, speaking the words that he had been taught to speak and being sure of only his own existence.
He was sure of Kira's existence too, when he first saw the pattern, connected the dots in the way that he had , in the string of heart attacks all occurring conveniently among convicts charged with crimes terrible and sundry. Kira had no name then, only whispers of a Just god, a knowing god, who charged, judged and executed without remorse or hesitation, an Angel of Death sent forth to correct the wrongs of a corrupt world and save the worthy.
It was laughable, if L indulged in such things as laughter.
Kira was human, an idealistic child with no knowledge outside of textbooks, and L was going to find him, crush him, and show him to the world like a bug in a glass cage.Here is your god, L would say, because he was childish like that. What do you think of him now?
So while it had been a terrible shock to find out about the Death Gods (as though, for a moment, the world had tilted by thirty degrees, or sugar had been outlawed) it had been almost comforting to also find out about their bleak, desolate world, and the notebooks they filled with lives to extend their own lives, because as he had always imagined Gods Did Not Care.
(L does not like to be wrong, also the world is a senseless place and he would rather they had died because of that rather than some unknown holy agenda.)
He couldn’t judge Rem for that, because he couldn’t judge humans for killing ants. But Light...that was a different story. It was a pity, really. L was tired of being better than everyone else, some days. Light was the only one who almost understood-almost, because he had then tried to rise even above that, and pretend to be God-
(-pretend to be someone who cared-)
So it’s ironic that Light’s face is the last thing he sees before he dies, hovering at the fringes of his blurring vision, and God looks at him, judges-and finds him lacking. Light smiles, and in that moment that beautiful face is transfigured into something ugly and hateful.
But to L, for whom Kira is merely a murderer, that judgment means nothing, and so he is not afraid, not of Kira or not of Hell.
It’s not over yet. Somewhere a clock counts down; and at the end of it a message will be sent, a new cycle triggered. L is immortal the way Kira will never be. Justice might not always prevail-but L would.
The man known as L closes his eyes, and dies in peace.
-end.
Characters: L, Light
Rating: PG
Word Count: 497
Summary: L has never believed in gods, even after Kira came along.
Author’s Notes: It’s been a loooong time since I posted any fanfic, but in that time I’ve been writing fanfic-writing out bits and pieces, trying desperately to regain that spark I once felt. I began writing this oneshot in May-that should tell you how much writer’s block I was running into. But fortunately it’s finished now (because inspiration always seems to strike whenever I’m studying ^_^) and I can post it! Hooray! Please excuse the crappy title, though--no better one presented itself, and I've spent enough time on this already.
L had never believed in God, any gods. L believed in Logic, Deduction, and Elimination-his Holy Trinity, and he had done so long before he was first a child under the splashed colors of the stained windows, speaking the words that he had been taught to speak and being sure of only his own existence.
He was sure of Kira's existence too, when he first saw the pattern, connected the dots in the way that he had , in the string of heart attacks all occurring conveniently among convicts charged with crimes terrible and sundry. Kira had no name then, only whispers of a Just god, a knowing god, who charged, judged and executed without remorse or hesitation, an Angel of Death sent forth to correct the wrongs of a corrupt world and save the worthy.
It was laughable, if L indulged in such things as laughter.
Kira was human, an idealistic child with no knowledge outside of textbooks, and L was going to find him, crush him, and show him to the world like a bug in a glass cage.Here is your god, L would say, because he was childish like that. What do you think of him now?
So while it had been a terrible shock to find out about the Death Gods (as though, for a moment, the world had tilted by thirty degrees, or sugar had been outlawed) it had been almost comforting to also find out about their bleak, desolate world, and the notebooks they filled with lives to extend their own lives, because as he had always imagined Gods Did Not Care.
(L does not like to be wrong, also the world is a senseless place and he would rather they had died because of that rather than some unknown holy agenda.)
He couldn’t judge Rem for that, because he couldn’t judge humans for killing ants. But Light...that was a different story. It was a pity, really. L was tired of being better than everyone else, some days. Light was the only one who almost understood-almost, because he had then tried to rise even above that, and pretend to be God-
(-pretend to be someone who cared-)
So it’s ironic that Light’s face is the last thing he sees before he dies, hovering at the fringes of his blurring vision, and God looks at him, judges-and finds him lacking. Light smiles, and in that moment that beautiful face is transfigured into something ugly and hateful.
But to L, for whom Kira is merely a murderer, that judgment means nothing, and so he is not afraid, not of Kira or not of Hell.
It’s not over yet. Somewhere a clock counts down; and at the end of it a message will be sent, a new cycle triggered. L is immortal the way Kira will never be. Justice might not always prevail-but L would.
The man known as L closes his eyes, and dies in peace.
-end.