Riona (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
rionaleonhart) wrote2023-09-28 05:33 pm
rionaleonhart) wrote2023-09-28 05:33 pm
Entry tags:
Fanfiction: Shackles (Death Note, Light/L)
I've never written any sort of fanfiction about soulmates before! I don't even typically read fanfiction about soulmates, so please forgive me if I've steamrolled over all the conventions of the genre.
A couple of weeks ago, I saw this Tumblr post by![[tumblr.com profile]](https://www.tumblr.com/favicon.ico)
winter-literature, envisioning Light and L discovering they're soulmates when they're handcuffed together. This fic doesn't entirely follow the scenario laid out in that post, but the post was the inspiration for it.
Please enjoy this fic about extremely toxic soulmates trying to destroy each other.
Title: Shackles
Fandom: Death Note
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Light/L
Wordcount: 3,700
Summary: When you fall in love with your soulmate, their name appears on your skin. All Light has to do is fall in love with L, and then he’ll be able to kill him.
In Light’s eyes, finding one’s soulmate has always seemed like nothing more than an inconvenience. The greater the distance between you, the more sharply your soulmarks burn; when one of you dies, the other’s mark burns forever. There’s no upside, as far as he can see.
Most people never find their soulmate, of course, but he still avoids touching others when he can. It’s not always easily done; some people make a point of touching everyone they encounter in their day-to-day lives, or even everyone they pass on the street. But he’s managed to remain unmarked so far.
The first time he met Misa, she threw her arms around him and then burst into tears when no marks appeared. He can’t remember what else they discussed that evening, exactly. He’d invited her into his room; looking back, he has no idea what he was thinking. Maybe he was just trying to console her.
Of course, when Light has just spent seven weeks falsely imprisoned, when he thought less than a day ago that he was going to be executed by his own father, the risk of finding his soulmate isn’t exactly at the forefront of his mind.
-
L fixes the cuff to Light’s wrist, and Light jolts his hand back with a hiss, reacting before he knows what he’s reacting to. It’s a moment before the pain consciously registers.
He instantly wants to undo the flinch, suppress it somehow. He’s never liked letting his feelings show so clearly. It’s already too late.
“Careful, Ryuzaki,” he says, massaging his wrist. “You pinched the skin.”
“Did I?” L asks.
His eyes are as unreadable as ever, but he’s cradling his own hand strangely. Something about that makes Light glance down at his unwelcome new cuff.
There’s a mark on his skin. A small but elaborate L.
L raises his hand to show his own soulmark: a single black feather on the side of his index finger.
“This is a joke,” Light says, quietly.
“I suspected we might be soulmates.” L cranes his head around to look more closely at the feather on his hand. “I have to say, though, I’m a little disappointed. I was hoping the mark would have a more obvious link to Kira.”
So Light’s life is permanently bound to the man who suspects him of murder, kept him imprisoned for almost two months and persuaded his father to terrify him for his life. If they’re apart for more than a few hours, the mark on Light’s wrist will start burning.
At least there’s one upside to these damn handcuffs.
Emotionally, though, he’ll have to keep his distance. The closer you get to your soulmate, the more the mark spreads, and the more pain you’ll be in without them. He’s seen people with intricate soulmarks woven all the way up their forearms, patterns and symbols and characters. Their soulmate’s name, the first words they spoke to each other, the last words they’ll ever speak.
Light is curious about L’s real name, he’ll admit. But it won’t appear unless he falls in love with him, and that definitely isn’t in his plans.
Besides, if Light has L’s name written on his own body, it could attract unwanted attention from Kira.
-
“Ryuzaki,” Soichiro says. “May I speak to my son in private?”
“You can speak to your son,” L says. “The handcuffs stay on, I’m afraid.”
Soichiro hesitates. “Very well,” he says at last. “Can the three of us go somewhere we can be alone?”
They end up in one of the many unused lounges; this building is ludicrously oversized for the number of people investigating. Light has an idea of what’s on his father’s mind, but he asks anyway. “What did you want to talk to me about?”
“I noticed your mark,” Soichiro says. “I know it’s not something you’ve ever been particularly interested in, but... well, congratulations. It’s a wonderful thing, finding your soulmate.”
They’re the socially acceptable words, but Light knows his father, and it’s clear that he isn’t any happier about this development than Light is.
“I know you don’t just want to congratulate me,” Light says. “It’s fine. You can be honest. I found my soulmate when he was putting handcuffs on me, so I have mixed feelings myself.” Mixed feelings is a generous way of putting it.
Soichiro glances uncomfortably over at L.
“I’m a little concerned,” he admits. “It seems to me that Ryuzaki could be... a dangerous person to be bound to.”
“I’m sure Light-kun is capable of getting into enough trouble on his own,” L says. “But I’ll try not to cause him any more harm than necessary.”
Light laughs a little. “Is that intended to be reassuring?”
“It’s intended to be honest,” L says. “I’m unsurprised that that’s something you have trouble recognising.”
Light grabs the chain of the handcuffs, yanks L towards him and punches him in the face.
It sends a shock of pain through Light’s mark, and his father is appalled. But it’s worth it.
-
Trying to track Kira down is hard work, but it’s engaging. It’s a challenge, a puzzle. Something real, after all those years of schools trying to teach Light things he already knew.
And Misa’s leaving him alone, for now. She was so obviously devastated when she saw his soulmark that Light felt a little bad for her. But, if he was hoping it’d get her to drop her obsession with him entirely, he was disappointed; she assured him that she still loved him, she’d come back to his side, she just needed a little time away from headquarters.
The situation still has its annoyances, of course. Light is handcuffed to someone who doesn’t know when to stop working; he often has to physically drag L to bed on the chain. Even if the handcuffs come off, they’ll still be spiritually chained together, although Light’s not planning to be one of those people who spend all their time around their soulmate; he’s prepared to endure some burning for his freedom.
It’s getting late now, the two of them lit mostly by their computer screens. The other task force members are in bed already, and it’s probably about time for Light to persuade L that they should follow suit.
L scratches the back of his neck, and Light catches sight of something dark on his palm as he takes his hand away.
“What’s that on your hand?” Light asks.
L looks at him. He doesn’t answer, but he doesn’t resist when Light reaches out to grab his hand, turns it over to look at the palm. Light still has to struggle against his instinctive aversion to touching people; there’s no point in avoiding it now that the mark’s already there.
Light’s name is written across the palm of L’s hand, sweeping down from the feather on his finger. It looks like Light’s own handwriting.
“When did you get this?” Light asks, looking sharply up at him.
“When we first got the marks,” L says. He moves his fingers and thumb to obscure the name, leaving only the feather visible. “I hid the name when I showed you my hand. I thought the fact that we were soulmates was enough information for the moment.”
A lot of soulmark interpretation comes down to speculation, but Light’s looked into the research, particularly since he gained a soulmark himself. The meaning of names is one thing the scientific community agrees on.
L is in love with him?
“We’ve known each other, what, four months?” Light asks. He scratches his wrist; it’s itching furiously. “And I spent two of those in prison. Most of your getting to know me was through surveillance. You’re not in love with me; you’re in love with the person you thought I was. You’re in love with Kira.”
“A very interesting theory,” L says, “given that my soulmark seems to think that still counts as being in love with you.”
“I’m not – I’m not Kira.” He can barely focus enough to speak; the itch in his wrist has blazed suddenly into pain.
Wait. Shit.
Light looks down at his wrist. As he’d feared, there are new letters scrawled across it, beneath the L symbol. L La.
Not a full name. He’s not in love. But his feelings for L are evidently changing, and he was so determined to avoid that.
Roman letters, though; that’s interesting. Apparently L’s name isn’t Japanese.
“Your real name is L?” Light asks.
“You’re falling for me?” L asks. There’s a trace of amusement in his voice. “Because I fell for you? An egotistic basis for attraction, wouldn’t you say?”
“Your handwriting is terrible.” As if he didn’t have enough of a reason to avoid letting his soulmark grow. This lettering doesn’t fit his neat image at all.
“If I’m lucky, perhaps you won’t be able to read it.”
Light gives his wrist a quick shake, setting the chain swinging. “If I were Kira,” he says, “I can promise I would have strangled you in your sleep with these handcuffs by now.”
-
Light grabs the notebook out of L’s hands, and he screams.
From everyone else’s reactions, Light was expecting it to be a strange experience; he’d thought he was about to see a shinigami. But it’s nothing he could have prepared himself for.
Memories are exploding out of him, suddenly, months of blank spaces he hadn’t even noticed suddenly filled in, every moment suddenly cast in a new light. The terrible road accident he witnessed last November: he caused that. The man who died suddenly after stepping off his train. The woman he walked with on New Year’s Day, speaking to her like a friend. The busjacking Light was so strangely calm about; looking back, he’d never understood how he’d managed not to be afraid at all—
He’s Kira. He’s Kira, he’s a murderer, L was right all along, his father’s fears were—
He’s Kira, and his plan has worked out perfectly.
He looks down at his hand, searching for his watch, with its hidden piece of Death Note. But it’s his left hand; he’d forgotten he’d switched the watch to his right when he was handcuffed.
Other than the cuff, the only thing there is his soulmark: L Law. The rush of his memories returning was like nothing he’d ever felt before; he must have been too overwhelmed to feel the mark expanding.
Discovering a soul connection with L wasn’t part of the plan, admittedly. But, in the end, it’s given Light the perfect course of action.
L Law. It could be a full name. But some part of him knows it’s still incomplete.
Why would regaining his memories make another letter appear? His memories of the two of them being enemies?
Still, this is good for his goals.
All he has to do is fall in love with L, and then he’ll be able to kill him.
-
The handcuffs are off, but they’re still sharing a bed. If they sleep in separate rooms, their marks won’t hurt, exactly – they’re still in the same building – but they’ll start itching in the early hours.
Light might as well get used to his soulmark causing him discomfort; L will be dead soon enough, which means it’ll hurt permanently. But sharing a bed seems good for his goal of getting closer, so he isn’t going to complain.
L isn’t exactly an alluring sleeper, though. Sometimes he sprawls across the entire bed like a spindly starfish; sometimes he sleeps mostly on the floor, only his legs on the bed itself. He’ll frequently fall asleep face-down in the pillow. It’s tempting to smother him and say he died of his terrible sleeping habits.
Sharing a bed isn’t enough. Light needs to find something attractive about L, something to focus on.
When he thinks about it, the part of L that Light finds most attractive might be his soulmark. Light’s own name written across his palm, branding the great detective forever. A permanent testament to the fact that, after all the cases L has solved, Light is the one who got under his skin.
Light’s own mark was nothing but a symbol at first, but L was in love with him from the start. It’s not the life-or-death victory they’ve both been striving for, but it’s a victory.
L’s words echo back to him: An egotistic basis for attraction, wouldn’t you say? But he’ll take whatever works, and this is working; he can tell.
Light keeps his focus – on L, on L’s feelings for him, on his own name across L’s hand – and within a few days there are two more letters on his wrist. L Lawli.
He delves into lists of common European surnames, trying to work out what it could be. No luck.
-
When he’s not actively working, L likes to spend time on the roof of the task force building, which means Light’s been spending a lot of time up there as well. He prefers to keep L within sight when he can, and, fortunately, there’s nothing suspicious about hanging around him. Why wouldn’t he want to be around his soulmate?
He could use this, Light finds himself thinking, looking down over the city. An established habit of spending time in high places, a tendency not to tell people what he’s thinking: he thinks he’s just worked out how he’s going to kill L.
The thought coils in his stomach, tight and thrilling. He can see the end of their game in front of him, and he’s so close to getting there.
When he turns around, L is watching him. It feels like L is always watching him.
“It’s dangerous, so close to the edge,” L says.
Soulmates can hear each other’s thoughts is a popular myth, thoroughly debunked. Light has to remind himself of that sometimes. The things L says so often feel like a direct response to what he’s thinking.
“I was just looking at the view.” Light takes a few steps away from the edge, closer to L. “It’s beautiful, isn’t it?”
It’s the kind of thing people say to set the mood, and there’s one thing he’s been thinking about trying to speed his soulmark along.
He closes the distance between them, and he tilts L’s head up to kiss him, forcing him out of his slouch.
It’s not a great kiss, even from Light’s perspective, and kissing is something he’s never exactly been a fan of. L touches Light’s face in the same tentative, awkward way he holds things, using only his fingertips: a touch so unnatural and barely there that it almost makes Light shudder. It’s the sensation of walking into a spider’s web.
He doesn’t feel any change in his soulmark. But he glances at it, anyway, as they pull apart.
L follows Light’s gaze and breaks into a small smile. “Ah, looks like it didn’t work.”
“I just kissed you,” Light says. “What sort of reaction is that?”
“You’ll need to try a little harder to learn my name, Light-kun.”
Light looks away, irritated. “I’m trying to be sincere. If you want to treat it as part of the investigation, go ahead.”
Looking back on it later, Light isn’t sure the kiss did anything at all to change his feelings. The tipping point might have been the way L saw straight through his intentions, just as he always has, in a way nobody else has ever seen him.
-
You were good, Light says. It’s a dream, he knows; he’d never admit this awake. I was always going to win, but you got closer than anyone else could have. You’re the first person who really gave me a challenge. It’s been fun, L.
L just looks back at him with those dark, dark eyes.
-
Light wakes with those eyes still in his mind, and he knows he’s won.
When he lifts his arm, the name L Lawliet stares back at him from his wrist.
He doesn’t even hesitate.
-
Light finds L on the roof, just as planned. It’s pouring with rain, which is mildly inconvenient, but it adds an appropriate sense of drama to the scene.
“Out in this weather?” Light asks, mildly.
“I’d go inside if I could.” L looks at him for a long moment. “I’m being controlled, aren’t I?”
It should be safe to reveal his hand at this point. The instructions forbid L from speaking to anyone else, or close enough. More precisely, he’s forbidden from communicating with anyone who has never used a Death Note; Light isn’t enough of a fool to write down anyone but Light Yagami.
“You leap off the building, if you’re curious,” Light says. He glances at his watch. “You have about twelve minutes.”
L closes his eyes briefly. “I see.”
He’s won. He’s won, and L knows he’s won, and Light has twelve entire minutes to bask in that knowledge.
Light is brimming with an excitement he’s never known before, so intense he can barely keep it under his skin. He wants to throw his head back and burst out laughing. He wants to kiss L in the rain and ruin his entire perfect plan by throwing him off the roof himself.
L reaches out to take Light’s left hand, the one with the mark, and Light lets him. There’s nothing L can do to him any more.
“You don’t think you’ll fall under suspicion?” L asks, studying Light’s wrist. “It’s clear you know my name.”
Light had thought about that, of course. Now that he knows what he’s looking for, it’s been easy enough to find information about L Lawliet online, put together a case that suggests he might be L. He’s posted his case anonymously across various Kira sympathiser websites, writing in English. By this point, anyone with Internet access could find out who L is.
The task force will still check the Death Note in their possession, probably. But they won’t find L’s name in there, and there’s no reason Light would know where the notebook is being kept.
“I’ll be fine,” Light says. “With you gone, the task force will look to my father. There won’t be any challenge left.”
It’s the first time he’s felt a twinge of loss, saying that.
For a moment, the only sound is the rain drumming on the roof. L is still holding Light’s hand with both of his.
“It’ll burn forever, you know,” L says. “I hear it’s very painful.”
L’s soulmark was more advanced than Light’s from the start, and it’s expanded as well: a cascade of black feathers that covers half his hand and vanishes beneath his drenched sleeve. As a symbol for himself, Light rather likes it.
“Good,” Light says. “It’ll be a permanent reminder of this moment.”
“You’re in love with me, apparently,” L says, looking up from Light’s wrist at last. The rain has plastered his hair to his neck, his clothes to his skin; he looks like someone’s tried to drown him. “Did you ever consider not killing me?”
Not for a second. He doesn’t need to say that; L will already know it. “Did you ever consider letting me go free?”
L laughs, quietly. “I suppose that’s why we’re soulmates. Will you stay with me until the end, at least?”
Light shakes his head. “I’ll need to be with the team to establish my alibi. And you know that, of course. You’re only asking in the hope I’ll be arrested after your death.”
L gives a caught-out smile.
They really were well-suited as soulmates, Light thinks. But this is a soul bond with a winner and loser, and he’s always intended to win.
“Goodbye, L Lawliet,” Light says.
“Well,” L says, “if we’re using real names: goodbye, Kira.”
-
Light’s soulmark blazes with a pain like nothing he’s ever known, he feels L’s impact with the ground, and he doubles over with a scream that nobody will ever know is mostly triumph.
His father is at his side, asking anxious questions, and Light shakes his head. “Where’s Ryuzaki?” he demands, tears of pain blurring his vision. “Something happened – where’s Ryuzaki?”
The burn of his soulmark eases quickly, it becomes less intense. But it’s still there, it’s there forever, the permanent proof of his victory.
All Light wants to do is hurry down to ground level, look at his rival’s dead face, finally defeated. But he can’t let anyone know he already knows what’s happened to L. Safer to let someone else discover the body first.
He participates in the search for show, of course. The kitchen, the main lounge, the bedroom they share. Eventually, he makes his way up to the roof.
L’s shirt is crumpled at the edge of the roof, soaked through. Why? Takes his shirt off was not part of his pre-death instructions, although Light supposes that what he wrote wouldn’t technically prevent it.
Still, this provides a reasonable pretext to think he might have jumped, which means it’s time for Light to witness his achievement.
He’s been beaten there anyway, he finds when he gets outside. Aizawa and Matsuda are stooped over L’s shirtless corpse; Light’s father is standing a short distance away, his back to them. They all look shaken, unsurprisingly.
It’s probably for the best he isn’t the first on the scene, although Light would have liked to have a moment alone with the body. His perfect victory, L as broken and pathetic in death as he always pictured.
Light screams, rushes for L, and in an instant he’s brought up short. Aizawa and Matsuda have drawn their guns on him.
“What?” Light asks, breathless. “What? What happened to Ryuzaki? Why are you—”
He looks instinctively to his father, who should surely be moving to stop this. But his father is just standing there, his head hung low.
The mark on Light’s wrist is burning like a reminder. Why would L take his shirt off?
He looks down at the body.
L’s soulmark has expanded more than he’d realised. The black feathers flow around the name Light Yagami and halfway up L’s arm, entwining with the word KIRA. At the crook of L’s elbow, the feathers merge to form an unmistakable black notebook.
Light closes his eyes. The burn of his own soulmark seems to intensify. It feels like L is laughing at him.
He knew all along that finding your soulmate was nothing but trouble.
A couple of weeks ago, I saw this Tumblr post by
Please enjoy this fic about extremely toxic soulmates trying to destroy each other.
Title: Shackles
Fandom: Death Note
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Light/L
Wordcount: 3,700
Summary: When you fall in love with your soulmate, their name appears on your skin. All Light has to do is fall in love with L, and then he’ll be able to kill him.
In Light’s eyes, finding one’s soulmate has always seemed like nothing more than an inconvenience. The greater the distance between you, the more sharply your soulmarks burn; when one of you dies, the other’s mark burns forever. There’s no upside, as far as he can see.
Most people never find their soulmate, of course, but he still avoids touching others when he can. It’s not always easily done; some people make a point of touching everyone they encounter in their day-to-day lives, or even everyone they pass on the street. But he’s managed to remain unmarked so far.
The first time he met Misa, she threw her arms around him and then burst into tears when no marks appeared. He can’t remember what else they discussed that evening, exactly. He’d invited her into his room; looking back, he has no idea what he was thinking. Maybe he was just trying to console her.
Of course, when Light has just spent seven weeks falsely imprisoned, when he thought less than a day ago that he was going to be executed by his own father, the risk of finding his soulmate isn’t exactly at the forefront of his mind.
L fixes the cuff to Light’s wrist, and Light jolts his hand back with a hiss, reacting before he knows what he’s reacting to. It’s a moment before the pain consciously registers.
He instantly wants to undo the flinch, suppress it somehow. He’s never liked letting his feelings show so clearly. It’s already too late.
“Careful, Ryuzaki,” he says, massaging his wrist. “You pinched the skin.”
“Did I?” L asks.
His eyes are as unreadable as ever, but he’s cradling his own hand strangely. Something about that makes Light glance down at his unwelcome new cuff.
There’s a mark on his skin. A small but elaborate L.
L raises his hand to show his own soulmark: a single black feather on the side of his index finger.
“This is a joke,” Light says, quietly.
“I suspected we might be soulmates.” L cranes his head around to look more closely at the feather on his hand. “I have to say, though, I’m a little disappointed. I was hoping the mark would have a more obvious link to Kira.”
So Light’s life is permanently bound to the man who suspects him of murder, kept him imprisoned for almost two months and persuaded his father to terrify him for his life. If they’re apart for more than a few hours, the mark on Light’s wrist will start burning.
At least there’s one upside to these damn handcuffs.
Emotionally, though, he’ll have to keep his distance. The closer you get to your soulmate, the more the mark spreads, and the more pain you’ll be in without them. He’s seen people with intricate soulmarks woven all the way up their forearms, patterns and symbols and characters. Their soulmate’s name, the first words they spoke to each other, the last words they’ll ever speak.
Light is curious about L’s real name, he’ll admit. But it won’t appear unless he falls in love with him, and that definitely isn’t in his plans.
Besides, if Light has L’s name written on his own body, it could attract unwanted attention from Kira.
“Ryuzaki,” Soichiro says. “May I speak to my son in private?”
“You can speak to your son,” L says. “The handcuffs stay on, I’m afraid.”
Soichiro hesitates. “Very well,” he says at last. “Can the three of us go somewhere we can be alone?”
They end up in one of the many unused lounges; this building is ludicrously oversized for the number of people investigating. Light has an idea of what’s on his father’s mind, but he asks anyway. “What did you want to talk to me about?”
“I noticed your mark,” Soichiro says. “I know it’s not something you’ve ever been particularly interested in, but... well, congratulations. It’s a wonderful thing, finding your soulmate.”
They’re the socially acceptable words, but Light knows his father, and it’s clear that he isn’t any happier about this development than Light is.
“I know you don’t just want to congratulate me,” Light says. “It’s fine. You can be honest. I found my soulmate when he was putting handcuffs on me, so I have mixed feelings myself.” Mixed feelings is a generous way of putting it.
Soichiro glances uncomfortably over at L.
“I’m a little concerned,” he admits. “It seems to me that Ryuzaki could be... a dangerous person to be bound to.”
“I’m sure Light-kun is capable of getting into enough trouble on his own,” L says. “But I’ll try not to cause him any more harm than necessary.”
Light laughs a little. “Is that intended to be reassuring?”
“It’s intended to be honest,” L says. “I’m unsurprised that that’s something you have trouble recognising.”
Light grabs the chain of the handcuffs, yanks L towards him and punches him in the face.
It sends a shock of pain through Light’s mark, and his father is appalled. But it’s worth it.
Trying to track Kira down is hard work, but it’s engaging. It’s a challenge, a puzzle. Something real, after all those years of schools trying to teach Light things he already knew.
And Misa’s leaving him alone, for now. She was so obviously devastated when she saw his soulmark that Light felt a little bad for her. But, if he was hoping it’d get her to drop her obsession with him entirely, he was disappointed; she assured him that she still loved him, she’d come back to his side, she just needed a little time away from headquarters.
The situation still has its annoyances, of course. Light is handcuffed to someone who doesn’t know when to stop working; he often has to physically drag L to bed on the chain. Even if the handcuffs come off, they’ll still be spiritually chained together, although Light’s not planning to be one of those people who spend all their time around their soulmate; he’s prepared to endure some burning for his freedom.
It’s getting late now, the two of them lit mostly by their computer screens. The other task force members are in bed already, and it’s probably about time for Light to persuade L that they should follow suit.
L scratches the back of his neck, and Light catches sight of something dark on his palm as he takes his hand away.
“What’s that on your hand?” Light asks.
L looks at him. He doesn’t answer, but he doesn’t resist when Light reaches out to grab his hand, turns it over to look at the palm. Light still has to struggle against his instinctive aversion to touching people; there’s no point in avoiding it now that the mark’s already there.
Light’s name is written across the palm of L’s hand, sweeping down from the feather on his finger. It looks like Light’s own handwriting.
“When did you get this?” Light asks, looking sharply up at him.
“When we first got the marks,” L says. He moves his fingers and thumb to obscure the name, leaving only the feather visible. “I hid the name when I showed you my hand. I thought the fact that we were soulmates was enough information for the moment.”
A lot of soulmark interpretation comes down to speculation, but Light’s looked into the research, particularly since he gained a soulmark himself. The meaning of names is one thing the scientific community agrees on.
L is in love with him?
“We’ve known each other, what, four months?” Light asks. He scratches his wrist; it’s itching furiously. “And I spent two of those in prison. Most of your getting to know me was through surveillance. You’re not in love with me; you’re in love with the person you thought I was. You’re in love with Kira.”
“A very interesting theory,” L says, “given that my soulmark seems to think that still counts as being in love with you.”
“I’m not – I’m not Kira.” He can barely focus enough to speak; the itch in his wrist has blazed suddenly into pain.
Wait. Shit.
Light looks down at his wrist. As he’d feared, there are new letters scrawled across it, beneath the L symbol. L La.
Not a full name. He’s not in love. But his feelings for L are evidently changing, and he was so determined to avoid that.
Roman letters, though; that’s interesting. Apparently L’s name isn’t Japanese.
“Your real name is L?” Light asks.
“You’re falling for me?” L asks. There’s a trace of amusement in his voice. “Because I fell for you? An egotistic basis for attraction, wouldn’t you say?”
“Your handwriting is terrible.” As if he didn’t have enough of a reason to avoid letting his soulmark grow. This lettering doesn’t fit his neat image at all.
“If I’m lucky, perhaps you won’t be able to read it.”
Light gives his wrist a quick shake, setting the chain swinging. “If I were Kira,” he says, “I can promise I would have strangled you in your sleep with these handcuffs by now.”
Light grabs the notebook out of L’s hands, and he screams.
From everyone else’s reactions, Light was expecting it to be a strange experience; he’d thought he was about to see a shinigami. But it’s nothing he could have prepared himself for.
Memories are exploding out of him, suddenly, months of blank spaces he hadn’t even noticed suddenly filled in, every moment suddenly cast in a new light. The terrible road accident he witnessed last November: he caused that. The man who died suddenly after stepping off his train. The woman he walked with on New Year’s Day, speaking to her like a friend. The busjacking Light was so strangely calm about; looking back, he’d never understood how he’d managed not to be afraid at all—
He’s Kira. He’s Kira, he’s a murderer, L was right all along, his father’s fears were—
He’s Kira, and his plan has worked out perfectly.
He looks down at his hand, searching for his watch, with its hidden piece of Death Note. But it’s his left hand; he’d forgotten he’d switched the watch to his right when he was handcuffed.
Other than the cuff, the only thing there is his soulmark: L Law. The rush of his memories returning was like nothing he’d ever felt before; he must have been too overwhelmed to feel the mark expanding.
Discovering a soul connection with L wasn’t part of the plan, admittedly. But, in the end, it’s given Light the perfect course of action.
L Law. It could be a full name. But some part of him knows it’s still incomplete.
Why would regaining his memories make another letter appear? His memories of the two of them being enemies?
Still, this is good for his goals.
All he has to do is fall in love with L, and then he’ll be able to kill him.
The handcuffs are off, but they’re still sharing a bed. If they sleep in separate rooms, their marks won’t hurt, exactly – they’re still in the same building – but they’ll start itching in the early hours.
Light might as well get used to his soulmark causing him discomfort; L will be dead soon enough, which means it’ll hurt permanently. But sharing a bed seems good for his goal of getting closer, so he isn’t going to complain.
L isn’t exactly an alluring sleeper, though. Sometimes he sprawls across the entire bed like a spindly starfish; sometimes he sleeps mostly on the floor, only his legs on the bed itself. He’ll frequently fall asleep face-down in the pillow. It’s tempting to smother him and say he died of his terrible sleeping habits.
Sharing a bed isn’t enough. Light needs to find something attractive about L, something to focus on.
When he thinks about it, the part of L that Light finds most attractive might be his soulmark. Light’s own name written across his palm, branding the great detective forever. A permanent testament to the fact that, after all the cases L has solved, Light is the one who got under his skin.
Light’s own mark was nothing but a symbol at first, but L was in love with him from the start. It’s not the life-or-death victory they’ve both been striving for, but it’s a victory.
L’s words echo back to him: An egotistic basis for attraction, wouldn’t you say? But he’ll take whatever works, and this is working; he can tell.
Light keeps his focus – on L, on L’s feelings for him, on his own name across L’s hand – and within a few days there are two more letters on his wrist. L Lawli.
He delves into lists of common European surnames, trying to work out what it could be. No luck.
When he’s not actively working, L likes to spend time on the roof of the task force building, which means Light’s been spending a lot of time up there as well. He prefers to keep L within sight when he can, and, fortunately, there’s nothing suspicious about hanging around him. Why wouldn’t he want to be around his soulmate?
He could use this, Light finds himself thinking, looking down over the city. An established habit of spending time in high places, a tendency not to tell people what he’s thinking: he thinks he’s just worked out how he’s going to kill L.
The thought coils in his stomach, tight and thrilling. He can see the end of their game in front of him, and he’s so close to getting there.
When he turns around, L is watching him. It feels like L is always watching him.
“It’s dangerous, so close to the edge,” L says.
Soulmates can hear each other’s thoughts is a popular myth, thoroughly debunked. Light has to remind himself of that sometimes. The things L says so often feel like a direct response to what he’s thinking.
“I was just looking at the view.” Light takes a few steps away from the edge, closer to L. “It’s beautiful, isn’t it?”
It’s the kind of thing people say to set the mood, and there’s one thing he’s been thinking about trying to speed his soulmark along.
He closes the distance between them, and he tilts L’s head up to kiss him, forcing him out of his slouch.
It’s not a great kiss, even from Light’s perspective, and kissing is something he’s never exactly been a fan of. L touches Light’s face in the same tentative, awkward way he holds things, using only his fingertips: a touch so unnatural and barely there that it almost makes Light shudder. It’s the sensation of walking into a spider’s web.
He doesn’t feel any change in his soulmark. But he glances at it, anyway, as they pull apart.
L follows Light’s gaze and breaks into a small smile. “Ah, looks like it didn’t work.”
“I just kissed you,” Light says. “What sort of reaction is that?”
“You’ll need to try a little harder to learn my name, Light-kun.”
Light looks away, irritated. “I’m trying to be sincere. If you want to treat it as part of the investigation, go ahead.”
Looking back on it later, Light isn’t sure the kiss did anything at all to change his feelings. The tipping point might have been the way L saw straight through his intentions, just as he always has, in a way nobody else has ever seen him.
You were good, Light says. It’s a dream, he knows; he’d never admit this awake. I was always going to win, but you got closer than anyone else could have. You’re the first person who really gave me a challenge. It’s been fun, L.
L just looks back at him with those dark, dark eyes.
Light wakes with those eyes still in his mind, and he knows he’s won.
When he lifts his arm, the name L Lawliet stares back at him from his wrist.
He doesn’t even hesitate.
Light finds L on the roof, just as planned. It’s pouring with rain, which is mildly inconvenient, but it adds an appropriate sense of drama to the scene.
“Out in this weather?” Light asks, mildly.
“I’d go inside if I could.” L looks at him for a long moment. “I’m being controlled, aren’t I?”
It should be safe to reveal his hand at this point. The instructions forbid L from speaking to anyone else, or close enough. More precisely, he’s forbidden from communicating with anyone who has never used a Death Note; Light isn’t enough of a fool to write down anyone but Light Yagami.
“You leap off the building, if you’re curious,” Light says. He glances at his watch. “You have about twelve minutes.”
L closes his eyes briefly. “I see.”
He’s won. He’s won, and L knows he’s won, and Light has twelve entire minutes to bask in that knowledge.
Light is brimming with an excitement he’s never known before, so intense he can barely keep it under his skin. He wants to throw his head back and burst out laughing. He wants to kiss L in the rain and ruin his entire perfect plan by throwing him off the roof himself.
L reaches out to take Light’s left hand, the one with the mark, and Light lets him. There’s nothing L can do to him any more.
“You don’t think you’ll fall under suspicion?” L asks, studying Light’s wrist. “It’s clear you know my name.”
Light had thought about that, of course. Now that he knows what he’s looking for, it’s been easy enough to find information about L Lawliet online, put together a case that suggests he might be L. He’s posted his case anonymously across various Kira sympathiser websites, writing in English. By this point, anyone with Internet access could find out who L is.
The task force will still check the Death Note in their possession, probably. But they won’t find L’s name in there, and there’s no reason Light would know where the notebook is being kept.
“I’ll be fine,” Light says. “With you gone, the task force will look to my father. There won’t be any challenge left.”
It’s the first time he’s felt a twinge of loss, saying that.
For a moment, the only sound is the rain drumming on the roof. L is still holding Light’s hand with both of his.
“It’ll burn forever, you know,” L says. “I hear it’s very painful.”
L’s soulmark was more advanced than Light’s from the start, and it’s expanded as well: a cascade of black feathers that covers half his hand and vanishes beneath his drenched sleeve. As a symbol for himself, Light rather likes it.
“Good,” Light says. “It’ll be a permanent reminder of this moment.”
“You’re in love with me, apparently,” L says, looking up from Light’s wrist at last. The rain has plastered his hair to his neck, his clothes to his skin; he looks like someone’s tried to drown him. “Did you ever consider not killing me?”
Not for a second. He doesn’t need to say that; L will already know it. “Did you ever consider letting me go free?”
L laughs, quietly. “I suppose that’s why we’re soulmates. Will you stay with me until the end, at least?”
Light shakes his head. “I’ll need to be with the team to establish my alibi. And you know that, of course. You’re only asking in the hope I’ll be arrested after your death.”
L gives a caught-out smile.
They really were well-suited as soulmates, Light thinks. But this is a soul bond with a winner and loser, and he’s always intended to win.
“Goodbye, L Lawliet,” Light says.
“Well,” L says, “if we’re using real names: goodbye, Kira.”
Light’s soulmark blazes with a pain like nothing he’s ever known, he feels L’s impact with the ground, and he doubles over with a scream that nobody will ever know is mostly triumph.
His father is at his side, asking anxious questions, and Light shakes his head. “Where’s Ryuzaki?” he demands, tears of pain blurring his vision. “Something happened – where’s Ryuzaki?”
The burn of his soulmark eases quickly, it becomes less intense. But it’s still there, it’s there forever, the permanent proof of his victory.
All Light wants to do is hurry down to ground level, look at his rival’s dead face, finally defeated. But he can’t let anyone know he already knows what’s happened to L. Safer to let someone else discover the body first.
He participates in the search for show, of course. The kitchen, the main lounge, the bedroom they share. Eventually, he makes his way up to the roof.
L’s shirt is crumpled at the edge of the roof, soaked through. Why? Takes his shirt off was not part of his pre-death instructions, although Light supposes that what he wrote wouldn’t technically prevent it.
Still, this provides a reasonable pretext to think he might have jumped, which means it’s time for Light to witness his achievement.
He’s been beaten there anyway, he finds when he gets outside. Aizawa and Matsuda are stooped over L’s shirtless corpse; Light’s father is standing a short distance away, his back to them. They all look shaken, unsurprisingly.
It’s probably for the best he isn’t the first on the scene, although Light would have liked to have a moment alone with the body. His perfect victory, L as broken and pathetic in death as he always pictured.
Light screams, rushes for L, and in an instant he’s brought up short. Aizawa and Matsuda have drawn their guns on him.
“What?” Light asks, breathless. “What? What happened to Ryuzaki? Why are you—”
He looks instinctively to his father, who should surely be moving to stop this. But his father is just standing there, his head hung low.
The mark on Light’s wrist is burning like a reminder. Why would L take his shirt off?
He looks down at the body.
L’s soulmark has expanded more than he’d realised. The black feathers flow around the name Light Yagami and halfway up L’s arm, entwining with the word KIRA. At the crook of L’s elbow, the feathers merge to form an unmistakable black notebook.
Light closes his eyes. The burn of his own soulmark seems to intensify. It feels like L is laughing at him.
He knew all along that finding your soulmate was nothing but trouble.
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It sends a shock of pain through Light’s mark, and his father is appalled. But it’s worth it.
Oh, this is exactly the fic I wanted to read apparently. I love it.
he’s prepared to endure some burning for his freedom.
Character thesis.
An egotistic basis for attraction, wouldn’t you say?
Have you met the man you're handcuffed to
But sharing a bed seems good for his goal of getting closer, so he isn’t going to complain.
You're so full of shit
It’s tempting to smother him and say he died of his terrible sleeping habits.
as/liha odshauda
The tipping point might have been the way L saw straight through his intentions, just as he always has, in a way nobody else has ever seen him.
GAY
He knew all along that finding your soulmate was nothing but trouble.
Genius.
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Zero consideration for the fact that this means L's soulmark will hurt as well, of course. If you didn't want your hand to burn, L, you shouldn't have had me as your goddamn soulmate, should you?
Thank you so much! This comment delighted me.
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Oh, this is extremely Light!
Aw, amnesia!Light!
Exactly what L would say about the man he loves.
That is the most Light plan ever! It's the whole "treating everyone as pawn, including himself" thing to perfection!
This is perfectly Light!
I love everything about this!
This is such a perfectly twisted disaster of a relationship!
Perfect ending!
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'This is such a perfectly twisted disaster of a relationship' is exactly the sort of reaction I want to get when writing Light/L. I'm so pleased.
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and I guess that's why they deserve each other ;;no subject
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Also that last twist was great and I love how it harkens back to amnesiac Light's earlier comment.
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