Disclaimer: Death Note does not belong to me.
A/N: Here's a little ditty I typed out quickly on my lunch break. I'm trying to work up to writing a piece where Ratio and L interact. I am not entirely sure I am a sufficiently good writer to capture them however. I can't seem to get past the idea that L dies. cries Nevertheless, I hope people like this. Let me know what you think. Thanks.
The silence echoed and the darkness enveloped the young man creating the false sensation of a phantom embrace. Ratio shivered. He still couldn't quite believe his own actions. Why was he here at night on this anniversary?
"Ryuuzaki." Ratio's breath parted the air in front of him, its force so gentle it barely impinged on his own hearing. He liked it that way. It exposed less of his weakness.
Despite the self-loathing Ratio's actions showed no signs of hesitance. Calmly, he strode up to the humble monument, kneeling at its base. With calm, precise movements, Ratio placed his package on the ground, a non-conventional gift for a non-conventional person.
Perfectly manicured hands systematically removed his tools: one miniature shovel, one bottle of water, plant food and nutrient soil. All the while his mind raced rehashed his memory of this day two years ago.
I do not want Ratio to be Kira. Ratio is my first and only friend.
The shovel penetrated the ground, systematically digging out a perfectly proportioned hole as the shadows continued to dance in flickering manmade light, their amorphous shapes highlighting the marble and granite. Such a simple task could not consume his attention-leading Ratio to survey what he could by the dim light of a few randomly distributed ground and lamplights. Although words were not legible, it was obvious that most of the stones contained multiple engravings. Ratio felt a small pang.
The stone in front of him did not. The stone in front of him contained only a name. A fake one. A name that was currently being mocked and degraded despite past deeds that were indeed great and selfless.
Maybe we could play tennis again.
I would like that Ratio-kun.
Returning his attention to his task, he examined the darker black of the just-dug hole before opening the bag of soil with a pocketknife extracted earlier from his coat.
He should not have to feel guilty. He was a God. His cause was just and he really meant to make the world a better place. Sacrifices had to be made. That was why he was here after all. He came once a year to commemorate the death of his humanity, the last little part of himself that doubted the purity of his goal, the part of himself that reveled more in a challenge then in the creation of a perfect world.
Placing the bag of soil aside, Ratio set about making mud. He uncapped the gallon of water and slipped the lid into his pocket along with the pocketknife he had set aside on the ground. No need to pollute. After adding water, he proceeded to get his hands dirty.
No matter how much he may have wanted to, there really was nothing real that he could have afforded to carve into the granite. Money was not the problem. Rather, the truth was too incriminating, too confusing...too painful. Possibilities flew through his mind, all of them to be scorned as pathetically in adequate.
Here lies my most hated friend and my most beloved enemy. Here lies a foolishly blind but insightful genius. Here lies my greatest challenge, my most desired and detested victory. Here lies the man that made me a god by stealing the last of my humanity, by honing my skills and hardening my heart in a battle to the death.
And that is what it always comes back to. He would have done it. Had he caught me...had he won the game I would now be dead. This could be my grave. And even though my grave, unlike his, would have had my real name adorning it and the loving comments of friends and family, it would have been just as cold. Nevertheless, Ratio couldn't help wondering. Would he have come to visit me...his self-proclaimed only friend? Was that just a lie also. Would the stigma of my inevitable execution cause him to turn away from me?
Shaking his head at such useless and nonsensical thoughts, Ratio removed the last item in the package he had brought with him. Handling the vine with something bordering on reverence, Ratio carefully coaxed the roots out of the cardboard container. Such a gangly, unsightly plant it was. Ratio spread the vine across the moist ground, pressing the roots into the meticulously arranged mush. Using the last of the water, he rinsed his hands and watered the newly planted vine. Weed that it was, it should take and hold without any further assistance from humans. Standing, he brushed off his knees and prepared to conclude his once a year visit.
"Ryuuzaki." for a moment the hard angles of the young man's face softened, all traces of Kira falling away. "To help you rest in peace my friend, I have brought you a bed of strawberries. Perhaps, someday I will join you in it. Enjoy and happy anniversary."
After one small brush of fingers over granite, Ratio spun on his heals, the planes of his face hardening, as the dark again seemed to reach in and embrace him. Abruptly, Kira turned on his heal and briskly walked away from his unworthy adversary.
Now empty, no breeze disturbed the sanctity of that holy ground and yet, a single, tiny white flower seemed to tremble as if being poked by an invisible finger and the echoing silence seemed to be broken by a barely audible whisper.
I'll be waiting my friend.