Fanfic: The last day
Hey, y'all, still around. Just when I think I'm finished with L...writing Near and Mello will be a relief, though that won't be too soon, since I'm heading to Mexico for a similar volunteering holiday to the one in Ghana; only this time my Mother and 13 yr old brother are coming a week later. It won't be somewhere in the most desperate circumstances, but still some people who could be happier, even if just by teaching English and introducing them to cricket.
Title: The last day
Genre: angst, character
Words: 900 total
Rating: PG
Characters: L, Light, Misa mentioned. L/Light if you want it
Warnings: Character death, mild unpleasantness
Spoilers: L's name, middle of series
Summary: Three linked short pieces. Life, death, struggle, and love. And L.
1.
A noteworthy thought: Life is data. It’s stupid to call that ugly or beautiful; it’s life. The school someone goes to, the job they find, the sweets they like, the individual who raises feelings alien to normal existence-the one they marry, or murder. Death is data too. Just the single black chocolate in the box of white.
There really weren’t any noteworthy features connected with my last practical assignment. But I must apparently describe a single article;
For the last four hour, the woman stared into the hidden camera, unbrokenly. She knew of no one who might view the film, excepting the Yakuza who imprisoned her, and their clients. Her life had held nothing to recommend its continuance. But her gaze spoke almost to the camera itself-preserve me. Remember.
It can’t be wrong to care about such a thing, but I can only judge it as stupid as placing a useless and respected victory over one significant and unseen. The woman had a 0.03% chance of defeating her captor’s efforts, and should have concentrated her life on escape. People locked in a darkened attic to lick moisture from the walls until they die alone cannot afford to care about anything else.
-‘Report on Infant Section end-of-year assignment’ written by L Lawliett, aged 6, destroyed 7 years later, by order of L
2.
“You know that I’ll protect you, right…L?” Raito whispered through 4am silence with the so-plausible sweetness that was only his.
“What for, Yagami-kun?”
“Because you’re afraid of Shinigami. Terrified of losing, and your unplanned death. Like some kid with a monster under his bed.”
“At this moment, I have a 52% chance of defeating the greatest murder in history, Yagami-kun-at an estimate. If I do fall victim to Kira…my death can only yield evidence leading to his inevitable fall.” Light smirked briefly.
“The death of the great L, an anonymous piece in the puzzle?”
“More like another link in the chain.
“Life doesn’t make up a picture of kittens, Yagami-kun, or a Thanksgiving Dinner-or whatever the puzzle you saw your life as actually shows. A chain of certainties, following a single strand-” dry clicking came from the handcuff chain between their wrists, as L raised it to eye level, “-to Kira.”
“Life is a chain, L?” Light gazed back “Such a restrictive point of view. That’s why this austere, unbranching chain of yours will never lead to Kira-it only leads to me.”
L’s opaque eyes held the fierce tawny. He tasted Light’s voice, with the bitter trace that drew his arms around the cold of his ribcage.
In almost a year he had sifted Light’s life down to the sub-atomic. The child with the perfect father someplace else and a hundred rules, neat and ignored. The perfect highschooler rising to the top with the mildest effort and not a single choice. His howls that he shouldn’t be punished, that he was a good boy. His hunger for justice, and to judge. His considerate manner that made everybody but L so much happier around him. His cute habit of accepting nothing from any other human into his soul.
It pointed to one end, now unseen, always inevitable. Pacing out again every fact and chance, L could only believe that Light was Kira, and that the bitter mess of pity, regret and frustration his voice bore was true enough to hurt. It was feeling, straining to Kira’s wide eyed bugbear, and perhaps no correct response existed.
“Just concentrate on finding some clue, Light-kun. I know you want to defeat me and get on with your life.” Light turned back to the computers, with a dismissive gesture.
“Rather than pick over the most intricate mystery ever recorded with the paranoid sugar-monster? It beats underage drinks and bad karaoke with the normal freaks.”
L realised his tea would cool beyond consumption in two seconds. He would have to drain the cup and savour the taste of one mouthful.
3.
Misa had told L once that his tower was like a prison, bare of everything but camera and images. L had replied that he didn’t live in the tower-and tapped his brow. He predicted a 16% chance she would consider what he meant, but he hoped.
It didn’t matter where he died-who was beside him, which sweets he had liked or which sweets he had eaten. He died quietly, drowning in the answer to the case, and the only smile of truth Kira ever gave him.
A thousand lives would preserve his voice and his works-L had never doubted they could take care of themselves, or welcomed any ill-advised feeling they might owe him. He had lost, but 100% probability can only ever be accepted.
All that mattered was the answer in Light’s face. Nothing of the God escaping the earth; just the boy exalting in victory over the enemy he would keep in his soul while he lived (Misa would accept it, one day. Please).
And L was glad of it, the feeling fresh and bright as death itself. He didn’t know how beings could care for each other as they struggled for truth in the darkness, but like the Death Note itself, it could only be fact. Maybe when the last piece of his puzzle had been placed, he would see why.
If not, he would squat outside the prison that he was leaving, and search the world from death, without sleep.
Title: The last day
Genre: angst, character
Words: 900 total
Rating: PG
Characters: L, Light, Misa mentioned. L/Light if you want it
Warnings: Character death, mild unpleasantness
Spoilers: L's name, middle of series
Summary: Three linked short pieces. Life, death, struggle, and love. And L.
1.
A noteworthy thought: Life is data. It’s stupid to call that ugly or beautiful; it’s life. The school someone goes to, the job they find, the sweets they like, the individual who raises feelings alien to normal existence-the one they marry, or murder. Death is data too. Just the single black chocolate in the box of white.
There really weren’t any noteworthy features connected with my last practical assignment. But I must apparently describe a single article;
For the last four hour, the woman stared into the hidden camera, unbrokenly. She knew of no one who might view the film, excepting the Yakuza who imprisoned her, and their clients. Her life had held nothing to recommend its continuance. But her gaze spoke almost to the camera itself-preserve me. Remember.
It can’t be wrong to care about such a thing, but I can only judge it as stupid as placing a useless and respected victory over one significant and unseen. The woman had a 0.03% chance of defeating her captor’s efforts, and should have concentrated her life on escape. People locked in a darkened attic to lick moisture from the walls until they die alone cannot afford to care about anything else.
-‘Report on Infant Section end-of-year assignment’ written by L Lawliett, aged 6, destroyed 7 years later, by order of L
2.
“You know that I’ll protect you, right…L?” Raito whispered through 4am silence with the so-plausible sweetness that was only his.
“What for, Yagami-kun?”
“Because you’re afraid of Shinigami. Terrified of losing, and your unplanned death. Like some kid with a monster under his bed.”
“At this moment, I have a 52% chance of defeating the greatest murder in history, Yagami-kun-at an estimate. If I do fall victim to Kira…my death can only yield evidence leading to his inevitable fall.” Light smirked briefly.
“The death of the great L, an anonymous piece in the puzzle?”
“More like another link in the chain.
“Life doesn’t make up a picture of kittens, Yagami-kun, or a Thanksgiving Dinner-or whatever the puzzle you saw your life as actually shows. A chain of certainties, following a single strand-” dry clicking came from the handcuff chain between their wrists, as L raised it to eye level, “-to Kira.”
“Life is a chain, L?” Light gazed back “Such a restrictive point of view. That’s why this austere, unbranching chain of yours will never lead to Kira-it only leads to me.”
L’s opaque eyes held the fierce tawny. He tasted Light’s voice, with the bitter trace that drew his arms around the cold of his ribcage.
In almost a year he had sifted Light’s life down to the sub-atomic. The child with the perfect father someplace else and a hundred rules, neat and ignored. The perfect highschooler rising to the top with the mildest effort and not a single choice. His howls that he shouldn’t be punished, that he was a good boy. His hunger for justice, and to judge. His considerate manner that made everybody but L so much happier around him. His cute habit of accepting nothing from any other human into his soul.
It pointed to one end, now unseen, always inevitable. Pacing out again every fact and chance, L could only believe that Light was Kira, and that the bitter mess of pity, regret and frustration his voice bore was true enough to hurt. It was feeling, straining to Kira’s wide eyed bugbear, and perhaps no correct response existed.
“Just concentrate on finding some clue, Light-kun. I know you want to defeat me and get on with your life.” Light turned back to the computers, with a dismissive gesture.
“Rather than pick over the most intricate mystery ever recorded with the paranoid sugar-monster? It beats underage drinks and bad karaoke with the normal freaks.”
L realised his tea would cool beyond consumption in two seconds. He would have to drain the cup and savour the taste of one mouthful.
3.
Misa had told L once that his tower was like a prison, bare of everything but camera and images. L had replied that he didn’t live in the tower-and tapped his brow. He predicted a 16% chance she would consider what he meant, but he hoped.
It didn’t matter where he died-who was beside him, which sweets he had liked or which sweets he had eaten. He died quietly, drowning in the answer to the case, and the only smile of truth Kira ever gave him.
A thousand lives would preserve his voice and his works-L had never doubted they could take care of themselves, or welcomed any ill-advised feeling they might owe him. He had lost, but 100% probability can only ever be accepted.
All that mattered was the answer in Light’s face. Nothing of the God escaping the earth; just the boy exalting in victory over the enemy he would keep in his soul while he lived (Misa would accept it, one day. Please).
And L was glad of it, the feeling fresh and bright as death itself. He didn’t know how beings could care for each other as they struggled for truth in the darkness, but like the Death Note itself, it could only be fact. Maybe when the last piece of his puzzle had been placed, he would see why.
If not, he would squat outside the prison that he was leaving, and search the world from death, without sleep.