Disclaimer: My name is King, THIS CHAPTER IS DEDICATED TO MY MOM WHOSE BIRTHDAY WAS AUGUST 27th! HAPPY BIRTHDAY MOM! (thank god my mom will never read any of this), and I do not own Death Note.
Devil's Trill, pt. 2
L was asleep.
L slept on the dusty orange couch; the spot where his head rested against his wrist and the couch arm was soaked through with water from L's damp hair, but that didn't disturb L's sleep in the slightest. Seeing L sleep killed all will Light had in him to thoroughly nag about the wet hair, killed all will to nag about anything, really, or to be difficult, or to do anything but stare at the man's peaceful face.
It wasn't fair.
Without the tension in his face that Light suspected was due to forcing his eyes wide-open and unblinking, L looked peaceful, like a spoiled, overgrown child he was supposed to be.
A lock of black hair, thick with moisture, slid down the porcelain skin, and L wrinkled his nose, as if instinctively sniffing it or something, and relaxed again.
The open palm, resting close to where the lock had fallen flexed too, and L's delicate fingertips twitched.
Gross, ill-mannered, ignorant overgrown man-child nail-biter who had never heard of fashion or ironing clothes or brushing hair.
But asleep, none of that mattered. Asleep, L wasn't a disappointment in every aspect imaginable, both as a world-class criminal or a human being; asleep L was just an ideal.
A precious ideal, the only thing Light had left to cling to.
And ideal he couldn't kill or destroy, an ideal he couldn't escape – because he had nowhere and nobody else to run to, but an ideal he could definitely hurt. An ideal he could suppress and surpass. And he will, in a little bit, he-
Light wanted to kiss L, and suddenly his head was blank of all odd thoughts that weren't really his own.
Suddenly, the dusty orange couch that wasn't really orange because of the dirt and the dust wasn't so appalling anymore. Suddenly, he wanted to kiss him instead of telling L that if he took a shower and changed clothes only to roll around that couch again, there would be no point at all in showering in the first place.
Because L was the only one who could make him stop.
"L," Light heard his own voice as he crossed the distance between the couch and a much cleaner sitting blanket he set up on the floor, "L. Ryuzaki. Can I kiss you?"
Of course, L continued his precious sleep, so gingerly, Light crouched near the dusty couch. L's breaths were shallow, but Light' breath apparently reached L's hand because the fingertips with bitten nails twitched again.
Leave him alone, Light heard himself think, but just like the words he had said, the thoughts sounded very distant, like they weren't his thoughts or his voice.
Shrugging it off, he took L's hand into his own, and squeezed it and pecked the cool, smooth skin of L's porcelain cheek.
Instantly L declared, "I was not sleeping!" and before the man even woke up, Light found a hand on his neck. Just as quickly though, it slid to his shoulder as if L's initial response to being woken up wasn't self-defense, but rather holding Light's shoulder for some reason.
"Light-kun," L cleared his throat. "I apologize, I have forgotten what the conversation was about. Light-kun was saying..?"
Light wanted to laugh, to make fun of L's sleeping habits, but instead he managed what he wanted to say, but just barely.
"L, I really need to tell you something. Right now… I know you're tired, but please."
L's still sleepy and mildly confused face immediately settled on being neutral and wary.
"What is going on with Light-kun?"
"L, not right now, I just need to tell you-"
"The Devil's Trill-"
"Now, please. Now."
It surprised Light how desperate he sounded, and over what? Over some story? Now, of all other times? Now, why now, why now, in the last possible moment? He hadn't even thought about it, he didn't even want to tell L, not really.
But then if he told L, maybe, just maybe, L could make it stop.
"Alright, Light-kun, I-" but Light shrugged him off, literally dragged him to sit up and practically jumped on his lap. "Al…right?"
"Alright. I need to tell you. The Devil's Trill. Before I… yes. I have to tell you now. I will tell you my version of the Devil's Trill. Well... my version has four parts. It starts with a problem, the problem of Evil. There once was a man, and he played the violin like you wouldn't believe it. He was ambitious and he reached high, and the higher he got, the more he fell in love with himself. There were better violinists around, violinists he should have respected, but he only praised himself. Soon, his self-love turned into blind oblivion; praise brought him only boredom and sadness, and to escape realizing that he was not the best, he eventually broke himself and just… died. The problem was, he was not evil. Evil and the man existed, but separately, and so the man had a problem because when he died and was sent to Heaven, he was not Evil. He became Evil in Heaven, and it was the kind of paradox that attracted the Devil to him."
"Light-kun has really thought this out."
"I was at a hospital for months, and I had nothing better to do. You gave me the story, and I solved it. Second part?"
"Light-kun thinks this is very impor-" but Light started talking quickly again, barely pausing to regain his breath.
"The second part is about the Devil, and the things that were important to him. Things important to the Devil were things he could get away with. He did what he wanted, and he liked to prank Heaven just because he could. Otherwise, why else would he bother going through all that trouble to talk to God just to get one insignificant little selfish soul in trouble? So the Devil convinced God to give an audience to one of the man's violin pieces because for the Devil, there would be no consequences. If the man passed the test, God would've just wasted His time. If the man failed the test, God will be upset He let an Evil person through the Heaven's gates. But the Devil, with his meddling, forgot the things important to him. The Devil forgot that everything he did had to come with no consequences for himself. The Devil forgot-"
"Light-kun, please take time to breathe!"
"Not important L, don't you... we already figured out that The Devil is you, and the man, Tartini, is supposed to be me and-"
But seeing no other way to stop him, L simply clamped a hand over Light's mouth. Moments, precious moments Light could spend telling L the damn story were ticking away.
"Light-kun, please. You must forget that story and all associations you have made with it! I did not know, I promise you, but had I known this was the extent of the seriousness with which you have taken it, I would have never-"
"No! L, don't you- it's the story. Without this story, I would've never ran away to look for the blonde in Tsuwano, without the story I would've never... those people... and just now in the hospital, I would've never... I wouldn't be able to-!"
"Light-kun... this story. It justifies everything you have done?"
Light's cry of 'yes' echoed through the dusty basement, and Light clamped his own hand over his mouth this time. Under his palm, he found moisture. He was crying.
"No..." he whimbered. Justifying... what had he done? What was there to justify? Did he really-
"Light-kun." L sounded firm, and his hands squeezing both of Light's shoulders felt firm. L pushed him away at an arm's length distance, much like his father did when he scolded him when Light was little.
His father… oh no-
But Light found his hand still gripping his mouth shut and couldn't tell, and L wasn't exactly giving him room to speak.
"Light. Whatever we are here for, forget about it. Forget about it all. Abandon all plans you have here, and let's just go. Let's leave. Just you and I, and no silly story is allowed to follow us. Just walk away, with me. Right now."
Light nodded vigorously, again realizing it was him who was nodding only after the fact. The hand he kept over his mouth was slippery and wet from the tears.
He wanted to, more than anything.
And there was L, telling him he could just stop.
L pulled him into a hug... a hug.
L was hugging him, holding him, letting him cry, and Light realized just how dreadful he must have looked to get L to actually for once hold him and comfort him-
"Shh, someone is coming," L hissed, suddenly anxious and alert.
Light pried the hand from his face, "of course someone's coming. The NPA-"
"How did the NPA find us here?"
Light felt his tears stop, and his face suddenly went lax.
"I led them here."
"Light-kun..." L mouthed wearily, and his grip over Light's shoulder's didn't feel as comforting or protective anymore, "what did you do?"
But Light was already off the couch and fishing for a gun in his tennis bag, one he must have stolen from the guards at the hospital.
L was immediately up and behind him, pulling out his own gun he also took from one of the dead guards from the hospital, and when Light turned around to face him, L wasn't aiming the gun at him – not yet at least, but L made it clear enough he would not trust Light to be the only one in this place with a gun this time. He also took a few steps back for a good measure, knowing well that the further he was, the worse Light's aim got.
Out of all things L planned to work on with Light, the brunette's aim wasn't one of them.
Still, despite the sour development and the odd calm expression on Light's face, L almost demanded, "Light-kun, we are leaving."
"Right after I finish this."
Light's tears dried very quickly, L realized.
"Light-kun, no. Just nowyou were-"
"Never mind. You said you'd let me do this, let me be in charge of things for once, to see how I would do. Well, this is it. Trust me."
L did not trust Light's judgment.
He was right not to and he shouldn't have let things progress, but at that time, against his better judgment, he let Light do as he pleased, and soon found himself tracing the steps of what were apparently two NPA officers climbing the stairs of the warehouse wreckage.
L had a good feeling who they were.
Touta Matsuda and Soichiro Yagami stood exactly where L had stood hours ago, and months ago before that. They stood confused but determined in the middle of half-cleared debris, surrounded by yellow evidence markers, burned concrete and half-melted metal beams of the fifth floor of the fateful warehouse.
They followed the smudges in the ash he and Light left just hours ago.
"Someone was here," Matsuda was saying to the frowning chief of police, "two of them, very recently."
Briefly, for just one moment that passed as fast as Light changed faces, L wondered if Light managed to fool him twice – with two identical scams the first of which made him to nearly dead and left him completely heartless – pun intended.
But that wasn't the case; if L was obsessed enough to be fooled twice, Light certainly wasn't stupid enough to try.
No, Light wasn't lying.
Alright, I admitted to himself, mentally rolling his eyes. Light was always lying. But not then, and not just ten minutes ago when he genuinely agreed to leave everything and just come away with L.
L could tell; just ten minutes ago, Light wanted to go as far away as he could as fast as L would take him, and now while spying on the two tragic survivors of the NPA's L Investigation Team from behind a charred wall skeleton, Light wanted nothing more than to stay and keep L watching.
Watching what? Was L supposed to stand aside and observe the caramel-eyed teen as he shifted his multiple personalities and played blind, blonde and bipolar?
The two NPA members shuffled around kicked over some ashes, L wondered what Light's "worst" was supposed to be. Half-crazy and overly emotional, Light could kick up some dirt, point fingers and play the blame-game. If it were anyone but his father, Light could and would most likely shoot them.
But around Soichiro Yagami, Light could only shout accusations and stomp feet.
If only L had enough time to yank Light away before the NPA showed up, it would have been almost like Light went with L out of choice rather than having no other place to go to.
Hmm… L cursed the NPA's terrible timing.
If neither of them were at the warehouse wreckage full of all and stale memories that left a bitter aftertaste in L's mouth, but instead in a car or a plane or just walking away from this mess, Light would be pondering his resolve to hate L for the rest of his life right about now. If L's luck was still generous, eventually Light would accept L and they would both be able to have some peace.
But they weren't walking away through fields of flowery forever after. L was still hiding behind the creepy wall, Matsuda was still tripping over dust, the chief was still brooding, and Light was –
Light was walking out into the open, aiming his gun directly at the air behind his father.
Well, this is embarrassing, L thought, so he improved Light's aim by standing next to the fake-brunette and aiming his own gun properly.
Matsuda and the chief drew their weapons before anything was even said.
"How dare you, you-" and then came the shouting and the gun pointing, and the accusations, and L got bored very quickly.
"Alright!" he snapped rather loudly as Soichiro was explaining to Light in great detail what he thought of him and his mass-murdering stunts, and Light was explaining to his father what he thought of him and his policing, all in the most uncivilized manner, L found, and Matsuda was standing awkwardly without a clue as to how he should react. They all stopped having their one-sided conversations at once, because L was told that when he raised his voice, he sounded very compelling.
"Thank you," he reverted back to a steady drone, "as it is obvious to me that Yagami-san will not shoot his son, and Light-kun cannot possibly shoot Yagami-san at such distant range of three feet, I suggest the two of you put your guns away before Matsuda-san loses an eye."
According to the identical expressions of the two Yagami, L must have said something astonishing. Until Matsuda said something even better.
"Hey, does he still have amnesia?"
"Yes," droned L, "but apparently 'his' hearing is just fine."
But Soichiro Yagami elected to be as stubborn as his son.
"I would never shoot my son, ever! You," and he gestured to his son, "are not my son!"
Great, L thought.
"Tiger father begets tiger son," Light retorted.
Both Yagami are philosophers. Just great.
And then Light misfired his gun in attempt to explain more things to his father, by accident, and Matsuda almost lost an eye.
"Enough," L scratched the back of his head with his free hand. "We are at impasse. Light-kun will not harm his father-"
"-you expect too much of him," the chief grunted.
"and Yagami-san will clearly not shoot his son despite everything Light-kun has done. Matsuda is very confused but will not do anything drastic unless he is free of Yagami-san's guidance. None of you are capable of firing your weapons at each other. With everyone's best interest in mind, I suggest you all disarm before your argument – and it appears Light-kun has summoned the two of you here to have a petty argument –gets heated enough to cause accidental injuries. Please hand your weapons to me."
"Right. To you?"
"As I am the one most annoyed by this situation, yes, to me."
"L," Matsuda called on L, but became distracted as he took pause to let the name sit on his tongue. "You are really L, aren't you?"
"Yes, Matsuda," L was not amused.
"Right, L," Matsuda's confusion quickly turned into a much overdue caution, "you and Raito… already picked off every other member of the team. Mogi. Aizawa. Ide. All dead. Because of you two. If it's my turn, the last thing I'm doing is giving you my gun. Stay back!" Matsuda directed his gun at both L and Light in a fair warning.
L bit the fingernail of his lonely free hand without a companion gun to entertain it. He looked at the ceiling.
"To be perfectly fair, if I wanted Matsuda-san dead, Matsuda-san would drop dead... now, bang!"
Matsuda and Light almost jumped.
"It seems to me Matsuda-san is alive. It appears I do not find Matsuda-san important enough to be disposed of. As for Yagami-san, I think I have taken a particular liking to him, considering my response to Yagami-san's heart-attack."
In truth, honest truth, L was falling asleep where he stood. His responses were delayed and he was just too tired for this. He could most likely take on both NPA members, but it was clearly against Light's wishes, and L would rather not test out his abilities only to find out he was too sick to respond to danger in a timely manner.
And to be technical, Light and his father were at a stalemate.
"I suggest Light-kun stops threatening the wall behind Matsuda-san first. Light-kun, please disarm."
Eventually, he convinced them all to take turns, much like he did with Mello and Matt when their arguments became armed with more than nasty words.
L was last to kick his own gun away. If he kept it, this whole ridiculous example of extremely bad father/son suspect pursuit and investigation would never end.
"He is-" the NPA chief began addressing Light and referring to L, but as soon as L was even hinted at, Light resumed ranting expressively, just without poor aim to reinforce his point.
"Oh no, dad. Father – Chief… whatever! No. Don't you tell me about him, I tried telling you about him from the beginning, you could've protected me, but you wouldn't listen, and when the fuckin' FBI finally made you listen, you locked me the hell away in that hotel room, where nobody could fuckn' protect me either! And when nobody could do anything at all, I shot him! And then what? I had to sit around and wait for a trial because after all that nobody still would fucking believe me!"
"Don't you think I know I failed you as a father? I know! And I tried, Raito – I really did, but at the end police failed you too – but that was the point, you knew about inadequate policing, that's why you studied and studied all your life and strived to enter police force and make it better! And look at what you've done instead!"
"I protected myself because nobody else would!"
"And how many innocent people did you use as bullet shields to protect yourself? Who was supposed to protect them from you? What kind of justice is this, Raito?"
And Light shouted, for the first time losing control over his smooth and loud vocals, and actually shouting, hoarse and bitter and everything.
"This isn't justice anymore! This is vengeance!"
Oh, L mentally rolled his eyes. Finally some sense started coming out of that boy; a little more where that came from, and Light would start growing daisies from his ears.
"Very soon, you will come to an unexpected realization," L remarked smartly.
"We could really do without the fortune-cookie commentary," Matsuda barked, and L found himself outwitted by Matsuda second day in a row.
He made a face.
"Excuse me, Matsuda-san, Yagami-san, Light-kun, but I am finding myself rather bored with this exchange, perhaps Light-kun could get to the point? Presuming there is a point somewhere in all of this, of course…"
"Yes, Raito," Soichiro breathed through his nose noisily, "Why don't you get to the point? Why did you bring me here, after all this is over, what are you going to do? You can't hide anywhere-"
"-I'm gonna go with him!"
"With him? So you aren't protecting yourself anymore, are you? Go with him and do what?"
"I don't know!"
"You going to disappear, is that it? Blow this place up again, bribe the autopsy doctors and make it look like we all died here so he can take you God-knows where and do God-knows what to you?"
"Light-kun and I have each tried faking our deaths already. Needless to say, we are not very good at it."
"But you're good at making deaths happen, and not fake ones, aren't you? Why don't you actually start backing up that reputation of yours – I haven't seen a shred of it since I met you! So start killing people or something!"
Hmm, so Light was subtly asking L to murder Soichiro and Matsuda? No, L wouldn't care enough to, and considering Light had to ask, Light wouldn't dare to even think about it himself.
"I rather like both Matsuda-san and Light-kun's father, I would rather not."
"You like them?"
"Indeed, I do."
"Oh, well let me tell you something, then-"
And thus L became the new target of Light's speech war.
"-about Devil's Trill."
"Oh no," L squinted at an oncoming headache and scratched his temple, "not this again…"
"Part three and four-"
With a sour and guilty-but-not-really expression, L turned to the two enraged and mildly confused NPA officers.
"If Yagami-san and Matsuda-san have brought sandwiches, right now is the time to eat them…"
"The third part," Light started, immediately sounding out of breath, "is about the actual Devil's Trill. It was the only Evil thing ever to be born in heaven; it wasn't carried there, no, it was born there. The man did his best – and I mean the very best he capable of – it was his masterpiece, it was his moment of truth. And his masterpiece still failed to impress God, and it still failed to defeat the Devil."
As Light spoke, well, stuttered through his words more like, he was looking at L. It was like Light was also pretending – pretending they were alone somewhere outside, away from the dumbfounded NPA. Because even then, the two NPA members in the room with two murderers weren't really NPA – they were just two men who surrendered their guns, one an enraged father, and one a disappointed acquaintance.
And yet, even that wasn't enough. Light wasn't looking at them as he was telling L his pet-story. The two men listening in ceased to exist in Light's mind as he ranted; it was only Light, and L, and nobody else existed.
"…Because Devil's Trill is a Sonata written to defeat the Devil. Ironic, don't you think? If the man wasn't aware the Devil put God up to granting him an audience, why did he write something that made him feet a trill? He must have felt a challenge as he wrote his Sonata, and knowing well that God wouldn't bother challenging him, he must have figured out that at some point, it was the Devil behind the whole idea. And yet. As beautiful and brilliant as his masterpiece was, the man still lost."
L was vaguely aware Soichiro Yagami was saying something the whole time Light was talking, but with every pause for breath or effect Light didn't take, L found himself submerged deeper into Light's world of only two people.
"The fourth part – the part where God was enraged and returned the man back to life, the part where the Devil failed things that were important to him and started caring enough to bait the man with the original Devil's Trill, and the part where the man repeated the exact same mistakes that killed him in his first attempt at living... it's the part where everyone lost something. It's about Tartini and how he failed to cope."
Light was done.
And he wasn't crying this time.
"Light-kun," L said simply, "why is the NPA here?"
"I brought them here so you can figure something just for once!"
"And just what might that be, Light-kun?"
"Who can the Devil never defeat?"
"And if I'm Tartini," and which L turned to the NPA again and shook his head, resisting an urge to smack his hand against his forehead," and you're the Devil, who's God, then?"
Well... L figured, he had to humor Light or else this insanity and absurdity would never end. He thought about it. If God first appeared in the third part, it had something to do with the Devil's Trill melody itself, and so, what did Light consider his greatest masterpiece that was never as good as it should have been because L simply bested him?
It clicked – every piece clicked together and formed a full picture of the outcome Light was building up for – one L didn't think he would see again
The wreckage of the abandoned warehouse where Light had bet everything; where he masterminded every single detail of his greatest game to the best of his ability, all for the sake out out-doing L... and even with his best-laid plans, L somehow managed to be better and survive.
Oh this was not good. L bit his lip. Back then, Light didn't need to shoot, all he needed to do was to get L's confession. He shot because he was trying to be better than God, be better than...
"The NPA is the God of the story," L droned, now annoyed with himself as much as he was annoyed with Light. "Specifically Light's father."
Light's vengeful and angry face changed again, changed so drastically that L imagined Light shifting Shakespearian drama masks, and behind him, the raving audience clapped and clapped away, applauding Light's brilliant performance.
Suddenly, Light was calm and satisfied, suddenly, Light's hand reached behind his back where, tucked discreetly behind in his belt, was a second gun.
Light lied that day again. He lied about many things.
How he didn't know what he would do after he went away with L, or how he was wronged by the NPA, or how he wanted to turn back time.
He lied about another thing.
He didn't misfire. He just wanted L to make everyone throw their weapons away.
It even felt the same.
It was identical in every detail, and L still did not see it coming, even for the second time, and if there were third, L would still probably miss it altogether, because he could never change the way he saw Light.
And Light… Light subconsciously found his own soul when he admitted to carrying out vengeance instead of justice.
It was too late, but L finally paid mind to Light's Kira persona - in the end, the Kira persona was nothing but a self-defense mechanism, a mechanism meant to protect Light from rotting away in boredom, a mechanism triggered by an opportunity. Against boredom, fueled by L's little cat and mouse game, and grown out of psychological trauma, Light's justice ideals rotted away just as his character deteriorated. Until there was nothing left.
Not morals, not justice, not ideals, nothing even remotely righteous piloted Light now because none of these ideas survived. All Light had to cling to was a finished game – Light's and L's finished game. Vengeance was groomed and harvested from a silly bedtime story about a Devil, a man, and an evil violin sonata.
L recalled every reference Light made to the Devil's Trill since his own supposed death at this very spot – all hints that lead up to this moment, and there were dozens. And somehow, L managed to neglect seeing their significance every single time.
"L. L, I need you to tell me something," Light said evenly, with the half-grin frozen on his face the same way his gun's aim was frozen at his father's head.
If L closed his eyes and listened to the sound of Light's voice only, he imagined he would have had no trouble pretending they both were at a summer park, with the breeze gently ruffling their hair and the grass around them. Light would be talking about something shiny, carelessly laughing away like nothing in the world bothered him, and L would be content to slurp his ice-cream, listening to the chime of Light's voice. And then, just as happily, L imagined Light would stop, grin but feel dreadfully anxious on the inside, and tell L the same thing – 'L, I need you to tell me something,' and then Light would grin, nervously, with that boyish grin of his and a glimmer in his eyes that were all but lost to L now, and he would ask L if L loved him. Or at least liked. And L would say yes.
And both of them would feel happy.
But L kept his eyes open to the reality, for the first time in his life regretting that he and Light would never be at a park together, carelessly laughing their troubles away, and wondering aloud if love was something that would last.
Instead of diet sugar-free ice-cream, Light had a gun in his hand.
"L," Light said cheerfully without moving his eyes from Soichiro's angry glare, "can you kill me?"
Instead of asking him about love, Light was asking him about an atrocity.
L pondered if this was a trick question, but it loomed over their party of four heavier than the threat of what Light was going to do to his own father whom L knew Light loved and respected and adored beyond anything else in the world.
"Why would I do that?"
"Hmm," Light hummed, thinking of ways to fish out a straight answer. "Suppose... I'm going to kill my dad, then shoot Matsuda, then turn around and kill you, kill you dead this time. I am telling you I will do this, and you should really believe me. Now, go ahead and kill me."
If they were back in L's park fantasy, L would sniffle and accuse Light of testing him.
Instead, L realized he knew the answer regardless if Light was serious about doing all that or not.
"No," L refused.
Light grinned wider, his pink lips stretching into a full-blown smile, a real smile. A careless, cute smile with a careless and whimsical air around it warmed up Light's face, and his eyes shone brightly.
Light was back.
L's Light was back.
Oh. Oh wow.
The beautiful, clever and pure boy L found so interesting was finally, finally back.
His face was smooth and beautiful; the stray golden hairs brushed his eyelashes as gusts of wind blew airy puffs in his face, and with the serene and pleasant expression on his face, it was as if Light was back, telling L that everything would be back the way it should be.
For a moment, L felt happy.
It echoed through L's perfect park with summer breeze and green grass and ice-cream, and the charming, laughing boyfriend L adored so much did not stop grinning for a full minute, not as Soichiro's dead body hit the floor, not as Matsuda gasped, cursed and ran to aid the dead man, not as he flipped over the dead body of a loving father to find his eyes still open, forever frozen in the last image of disbelief that his beautiful son, smiling happily actually had it in him to squeeze the trigger.
And then, as L watched quietly from the sidelines, the beautiful smile washed off Light's face the same way a painted-on clown grin would stream away with rain water.
Slowly, Light's hands found their way to his silky honey hair, tangled and pulled. The angelic face contorted with something akin to anguish, and Light screamed, fell to his knees, and screamed again.
L wanted nothing more than to shut this all out, all of it.
He wanted to close his eyes, auto-pilot through the whole event, and wake up days later in Britain with dry biscuits and tea and facts about Mello's life he didn't really want to know.
Instead, as Light screamed on his knees, L was aware where he was and what he had to do, and took responsibility, even though it was much too late.
He sprinted to the pathetic figure, contorted on the ashy floor and shouting random syllables, and pried the warm gun from the clenched fingers and tangles of hair.
"Y-you bastards!" Matsuda finally managed to shout, furious and desperate over Soichiro Yagami's dead body. L's gun seemed to fade in his fury. "You motherfucking bastards god-damn you to hell!"
"Matsuda," L said, calm through both men's hysterics, "Matsuda."
"You son of a fucking bitch you cowardly piece of-"
"Matsuda, go. Just go."
There had been enough damage.
And Matsuda cursed them and begrudgingly fled, and L managed to reduce Light's screams into sobs as he fished in his backpack for a tranquilizer syringe. Light dropped unconscious right after L administered it.
L let this whole ridiculous and unnecessary game go too far for Light, and perhaps even too far for himself.
There had been enough damage.
A/n: Soz a few days delayed. The final Chapter 34 is still scheduled for before Sept 7th, I hope.. I hopeIhopeihope IHOP. Pancaek...
Thank you to everyone who reviewed, I love you very much, all of you, forever! I'll be editing content, and doing other clean-up things pretty soon. Almost done!
OMGMGMG OMG INSTEAD I WANNA TALK ABOUT MY BIRFDAY! Which is today – Sept 3rd! Tee hee heet. 'Kay so I ordered a Devil's Trill song remix from my bffffforeverandever Lancie on Gaia and I got a WIP today and OMGGG it's so epic. Was it the remix that finally bulldozed me through the writer's block I had with about 200 words of this chapter that I couldn't make myself write no matter what? Yes. Yes it did. Song-chan Birfday! Tee heet. I know I sound like a retarded noob atm and my (probably nonexistent) ffn rep just went nine hundred points down, but it's my birfday so it's okay! A3A
Make sure to drop me a review telling me what you thought of this chapter. And what you think the ending will be like.
And other stuff you want to tell me.
Devil's Trill, pt 3.