It was only early November, yet snow fell steadily upon the ground. Light's footsteps echoed softly against the pavement. The frozen bite of the night's breeze didn't make his situation any less uncomfortable. As he walked, he replayed recent events in his mind to fill the dead silence of the frosty midnight air. Flashbacks riddled his thoughts and his heart began to ache as he remembered the moments he had shared with L that seemed so far away.
In his bag, Light carried two DeathNotes. One held an entry containing L's true identity, the other would continue to be utilized for his dogma. Tucked away with the DeathNotes was a shovel, a blue lighter, two violet-red candles, and a wool blanket to keep him warm.
His loneliness gave way to a small exasperated sigh as he crossed the street to approach the cemetery gates. Light glanced towards the iron confinement that ultimately contained the corpse of his target.
He pushed his tan saddle bag through the slats between the wrought iron bars before proceeding to climb over the gate himself. Light jumped off the fence, landing on his feet, then continued his mission after regaining composure and grabbing his bag.
Light walked up the path and observed the decorated tombstones surrounding him. Some were adorned with beautiful red and white flower bouquets, some had letters written to the dead, and others were bare save for a single token of adoration from a relative. As he advanced, names became increasingly familiar to him. Light began to invent each story for the names he saw, allowing them to "live" in his mind. He gave them families and occupations, spouses and enemies.
Soon he spotted what he was looking for-a headstone with a single letter engraved in the white tablet.
There were no flowers on this grave, only the white marble slab with that black letter peering back at Light. The freshly fallen snow accentuated the smooth stone, offering it an almost dreamlike appearance. Snowflakes had begun to fall into Light's hair, providing it with a soft, white dusting of snow over his own brown.
Another snowflake fell on Light's nose.
He shivered and his snowflake crown cascaded around him, searching for stability.
Light knelt by the pristine grave and placed a candle on both sides of the stone, then lit them. He watched the flames dance and twirl with the wind. They seemed so peaceful and contented in their dance that he wished he could watch L's eyes light up with excitement over the simple amusement.
He shook his head again to clear the thought from his mind, he needed to focus if he wanted a chance to bring L back.
Light took the DeathNotes out of his bag and placed them in front of himself, setting the blue lighter between them. He picked up the Note with L's name inside its pages. Thumbing through the countless pages of victims, Light finally came to a page with only one name left on it.
He read the name.
He read it again and stroked his thumb over the inscribed letters. They seemed so foreign to him-almost uncomfortable.
Light picked up the lighter and flicked the artificial flame, hovering it over the DeathNote in his hands. He flashed a grin and pressed the flame against the book's papers. The fire poured across the pages, snaking through the layers to devour each stroke of ink.
He watched the snowflakes elegantly dance into the fire, creating a veil of vapor as they burned. The flames reflected in Light's eyes, giving off a heat that made them sting.
Light put the burning DeathNote over L's grave and quietly whispered into the night.
"Come home to me, Lawliet."