Symphony 1- Adunationem (The Meeting)
Disclaimer: The Maiden of Autumn owns nothing.
The slums of London were quite filthy, Light thought disgustedly as he passed disgusting alleyway after disgusting alleyway. His amber eyes roved the dark corners and shadowy streets, occasionally flashing red as a lamp shone upon his eyes just so.
Although, Light had to admit, recoiling as a boy passed him, face dirty and clothes covered in black soot, things were much worse a hundred years ago…
Which was true. 1700's-era London had been much filthier, with people tossing their chamber pots out of windows and onto those on the street below whenever they wished. Light thanked God every day for the discontinued use of those infernal, nasty things.
Sighing, Light brushed the soot from the passing boy off of his sleeve, shaking his head.
As a vampire, Light was forced to take his meals at night, and as the basic rule of the slums were "every man for himself" no one would look askance if he suddenly pulled a random slumster into a corner and made him his meal.
He did wish, though, that the fare was better. It was safer this way, yes, able to stay under the scope of the humans by eating random people no one would miss, but the disease and horrible condition these people lived under twisted the taste of their blood, making it almost… rotten.
Of course, this wouldn't kill Light- not much of anything could nowadays, but having nothing to look forwards to but filthy-tasting blood made his stomach churn and a grimace settle over his features.
Continuing on his way Light passed a black, fancy carriage parked in the middle of the slum's main road. The curtains were drawn over the windows and a man in a thick, clean traveling cloak was sitting at the driver's seat, nestled comfortably into his coat to ward off the chill of the night. He saw more than a few poverty-stricken people dressed in nothing but rags give the driver of the carriage a few envious, longing looks, and pity for those people struck Light's heart.
He himself was not warmly dressed, but the cold didn't' affect him as badly as it did humans. He was more resistant to extreme weather, and he most likely could've run naked through the streets in the dead of winter and it would not have made him think twice.
But… there was no need to show that off to the humans. To blend in better, he was dressed just the same as many people in the slums. A worn, long-sleeved shirt, a patched vest, long brown pants tucked into old boots served him just fine and no one gave him a second glance as he hung his head and trudged through the slums, looking just like any other poor, dejected wretch.
His eyes finally lit upon a man leaning against the corner of an alley and he paused, looking at him speculatively. He looked healthy- well, for an occupant of the slums, at least, and his clothes looked like that of a person who was no lowly worker.
Light's eyes drifted down to the man's hands, and his lips curled.
Blood. There was blood on his hands.
He was no doubt a murderer.
It would seem as if he had found his meal. His blood was sure to be tainted by the drink that Light could smell wafting off the man, and the general filth that came living in such a disease-ridden place, but the mans' relative healthy state would hopefully counter that. It would be better fare than that dock worker he had made his meal of last night, to be sure.
Now that he knew his prey for the night, Light paused at the edge of the road, looking around as if to make sure that way was clear and then trudged across the street, depression and weariness affected in he set of his shoulders.
Mumbling to himself, he patted his pockets, coming up with a single shilling. He glanced at it furtively, and as he neared the man he had chosen to feed on tonight, he muttered, "Thank God it was payday."
The man stiffened as he heard Light's words and as Light passed by, the man grabbed his shoulder and swung him into the alley.
His breath was absolutely foul, Light thought with disgust as he was slammed against the brick wall, and a meaty had closed around his throat. It would have choked him- if he had been breathing. As it were, the man's breath threatened to make him throw up, so he simply stopped breathing, not needing the air in the first place.
"So, we got paid today, did we?" the man threatened, grinning. "Gimme, or this here," the man fumbled for a second and then pulled out a knife, "goes inta your gut."
Light riled his eyes. These intimidation tactics, really… They were quite pathetic.
Not wanting to stay in his position any longer-the man's breath really was disgusting, and Light wanted it away from the vicinity of his face as soon as possible- Light didn't reply, but simply reached up and ripped the man's hand off his throat. He twisted and reversed their positions, pressing his forearm against the man's chest to keep him pinned against the wall and grabbed a hank of the man's greasy hair, yanking his head back.
"Hush," Light hissed into the man's ear, annoyed at the curses that spewed from his meal's lips. He eyed the thick neck in front of him with a measure of disgust, seeing the filth that covered it- disgusting. Still, blood was blood and blood was food, so it was time to "suck it up" as it were and get down to business.
Light grinned momentarily at his own unintentional pun, before he allowed his fangs to grow. His canines grew, elongating and slipping out further from his gums. Even after centuries of being a vampire after being turned by that blasted woman in Japan, his home country, it was still a disconcerting feeling to feel them sliding over his lips.
Without any further ado, he sank his fangs into the man's throat, cutting off the man's angry protests. Hot blood flowed into his mouth, and though the taste was foul, it was thick and quelled the hungry clenching of his stomach, and Light drank eagerly, though he made sure to slip his thumb down from the man's hair to press against his pulse, making sure that it didn't stop while he was drinking.
Humans could only be turned into vampires if the human died while being drank from- if every last drop was consumed. From there, there were two options for that human- if it was left alone, it would reawaken as a vampire- but a mindless, slavering beast that set itself onto a bloody path of self-destruction. These were the type of vampires that legend spoke of- due to their bloodless state, they were consumed by hunger and their condition made their skin paper-thin, which would dissolve if exposed to sunlight.
These vampires, thankfully, usually only lasted for the night in which they were created, as they didn't have enough sense or intelligence to hide from the sun and dissolved that very morning.
And then, there were the vampires like Light- intelligent and for all intents and purposes, alive. They were the ones killed and then had that vampire's blood transfused into them. It gave that dead person life, making them into a vampire, into a whole different species. In fact, centuries ago, when vampires still operated in clans, the process of inducting a human into their clan by turning them included a huge celebration, and the ritual was called "The Rebirth"- essentially, the end of their human life and start of a new one.
But just because one was a vampire didn't mean they were not living.
Light had often thought it was silly that vampires were thought of as dead, or the undead as it were- dead things could not live, and that was the solid rule.
And in truth, vampires- the properly changed ones- were not that different from humans. They were living and breathing. They didn't "thirst" for blood- their altered bodies used blood as a life source. They were wholly dependent on it, as their organs needed it to operate and their bodies used it as fuel. The red blood cells were converted into energy, and so blood was their food, as food is essentially, energy that a body uses to survive.
It was why Light hated drinking polluted blood- the red blood cells were corrupted and unhealthy, and his body used them up much, much faster. It forced him to feed every night, where as if he was able to feed on healthy blood, the red blood cells would be used up less slowly, because they would be more filling and contain more energy. It was like sugar vs. meat, in a way- sugar was burned through quickly, while meat took longer.
And though this man's blood tasted nothing like sugar, it was burned through just as quickly.
When Light dropped the man as his pulse started to flutter, he stepped away, grimacing as he felt his meal settle into his stomach.
Still, as much as he hated this food, it was still safer to make slum filth disappear rather than an upstanding member of society- no one cared if a random inhabitant of the slums suddenly died. It was so common, dead bodies were regularly stepped over without a second thought.
Speculatively, Light eyed the man's crumpled form as he allowed his fangs to recede, wiping his chin with his sleeve. He couldn't allow this man to very well live, could he? Shrugging, he bent down and broke the criminal's neck in one swift jerk.
Farewell to useless trash.
Pleased with himself and his meal now sitting comfortably in his stomach, Light stood up and turned-
Only to let out an angry expletive as his wrists were suddenly jerked together and handcuffs- silver, if the way they tingled irritably and rendered his arms immobile was anything to go by- were clamped around his wrists.
He was quickly dragged out of the alley and shoved into a familiar black carriage, onto the cushioned seat before the door was slammed shut and he was left alone. Snarling, Light struggled, face twisted into an angry grimace. "You fucking bastards, let me out or so help me, I'll-"
"Do be quiet."
A quiet, calm voice cut him off, alerting him to the fact that he wasn't alone.
Glowering, he turned to confront whoever the hell had dragged him here so imperiously- and with silver handcuffs, a pox on the bastard!- but he stopped and blinked incredulously when he saw the other occupant of the carriage.
It was just a boy. A rather slight one for his age, which Light guessed to be around 12 or 13. The black of the carriage made his pale skin look stark, and it was only offset by the feathery hair that topped his head and fell into equally black eyes, staring up at Light with an inscrutable expression on his face.
Well. Curiouser and curiouser…
"What the hell is this?" Light demanded, leveling a deathly glare at the boy across from him, but stopped as he suddenly got a whiff of the blood that ran through the boy's veins. Clean and healthy, and almost sweet, it was tantalizing to Light's senses, who couldn't remember the last time he had made a meal of such a healthy specimen.
The boy said nothing for a moment, simply examined his face, eyes wandering to Light's chin where a dried blood trail that had escaped Light's sleeve still lingered, and the blood that stained the collar of Light's worn white shirt. Finally, the boy opened his pale lips and spoke. "This is me confirming my suspicions," the boy said quietly, leaning forwards.
The action drew Light's attention to the lower portion of the boy's body- funny, he had been so engrossed in the slight, pale face and large black eyes that he hadn't had a chance to examine the rest of him, other than noting that he was rather small.
The boy was sitting in an odd crouch, balancing on the balls of his feet. Light had a fleeting moment of thought that if he leaned an inch closer, he was going to topple over, but nothing of the sort happened.
The boy's words suddenly hit him, and he raised an eyebrow at the boy, wondering what the hell this boy had suspected. The only thing was…
Light bolted upright, eyes narrowing into a glare as he watched the boy lean back slightly, gazing at him with a self-satisfied light in his eyes. How the fuck had the boy figured out that he was a vampire?
"So I was right, then, if your reactions are anything to judge by," the boy said softly, sighing.
Light's glare only intensified at the softly spoken words. "Who the fuck are you, then? Some sort of paranormal investigator or self-proclaimed hunter?" Light spat.
The boy looked taken aback for a moment, and then his lips tilted upwards in a smile. "No, nothing of the sort. I'm actually- well, we can get to that later. This was more of a freelance project, something that piqued my interest and I found I wanted to pursue it. I came here a few weeks ago to gather ideas and noticed you- you're quite hard to miss," the boy smiled, "and even harder to forget. I instructed my driver to stop and I watched you for a few minutes. I observed you going into an alley with a man, but you came out without him. At first, I suspected you to be a male prostitute, but then, I saw you wiping at your chin- and that there was blood dripping from it. Naturally, this sparked my interest, and I returned the next night, only to observe a variation of the same thing.
I suspected… after doing some research, I came to a hypothesis, and decided to see if that hypothesis was right. And it was." The boy's eyes roved over him, nothing but fascination in them. No horror or fear- simply curiosity, much like a scientist had towards a fascinating subject. "You are a vampire, are you not?"
Light froze, then cursed mentally. He had gotten sloppy, then, and secure in the anonymity the slums brought. It had never occurred to him that someone might have taken note of his habits and connected the dots.
And he was reluctant to admit it… but the boy was quite astute, if he were able to come to such a conclusion- and be right about it.
He sighed, seeing no use in trying to lie. He had a feeling this self-assured boy would allow nothing of the sort. "Yes, you insufferable brat, you're right," Light admitted, though it stung.
The boy didn't blink at the insult; he merely blinked and then leaned forwards, his eyes glittering. "Fascinating," the boy muttered. Without asking permission, he leaned forwards over the small gap in-between the seats, sitting normally on his behind lest he tumble over and reached out to place his hands on Light's face, his white, slender fingers pleasantly warm on Light's face.
He made Light tilt his head one way, and then the other, his eyes taking in Light's features. He suffered this indignity simply because there was nothing else he could do about it.
"You don't look any different than normal humans," the boy muttered to himself, and his thumb swiped at the dried trail of blood on Light's chin.
Light was getting a little irritated, and that was only escalated when the boy's thumb pressed against his lips, trying to slide in and rub against his fangs. Light jerked his head aback and hissed at the boy in annoyance. "Enough! I do not appreciate being treated like an object for you to study. Tell me why you pulled me in here!"
The boy blinked, a flicker of shock showing in his large black eyes before he withdrew, settling back into his crouch and regarding Light with a cocked head. "Ah. Of course. To the heart of the matter then, is it? Very well." He paused a moment, seeing to gather his thoughts before looking back to Light. "My assistant, Watari, is growing to become advanced in years. He is no longer able to carry out some of his duties as he was able to when he worked for my parents, and as such, he has requested that he be relieved of some of his more… taxing duties to preserve his health and that he may spend more time with his wife and children.
I've agreed to this, but it leaves me with a dilemma: I am without a manservant and assistant. No others desire to work for me, as I keep odd hours and am considered…eccentric. This leaves me in quite the unideal situation, I find. However, you may be the answer to my problem."
"You want me to become… your servant?" Light asked incredulously, looking at the boy as if he had gone bonkers. Which he suspected the boy had, though Light kept that thought private.
"No, not servant," the boy shook his head. "My assistant. Yu would help me in my pursuits, keep me on schedule, and keep me company and help me when I require it."
"And what makes you think I'd agree to this?" Light queried, his voice dripping with disdain. The audacity of this boy…
"Because I'll make you an offer you can't refuse. In return for your position serving me, I'll allow you to feed off my blood when you need."
Light froze, stunned at the boy's words, before his eyes narrowed. "What makes you think that your blood his so desirable? What makes you think I'd want it, in the first place? And how do you know I won't kill you?" Light asked, his questions sharp and fast.
However, the boy answered quickly, as if he had expected this. "Don't insult my intelligence; I may be young, but if I was astute enough to ascertain that you are a vampire, I think my intelligence deserves more credit than you give it," the boy said, his quiet voice sharp and cutting. "I've seen your face when you come out of the alleyways after feeding; there is always a revolted look on your face, as if you've just ingested something foul. And tonight, you stopped before you killed that man- you snapped his neck instead of draining him dry. Obviously, you can choose whether or not to kill someone when feeding. I'm sure my blood tastes better than the filth you find in the slums, and you would not kill me unless you chose to."
Light sat back, scowling, as his potential reasons for protesting this arrangement were cut down and slapped away with nary an afterthought. Damn little astute brat. "Fine. You're right; I'll give you that much. But why would you want me, a vampire, so badly?"
"Because you require little sleep, have no family that I'm aware of, and are no doubt very strong- I have enemies that would wish me gone, and part of your duties would be protecting me."
"How did a little brat like you garner enemies?" the words flew out of Light's mouth before he could stop them, unable to believe that this little waif of a nobleman's brat could have possibly done something to amok the other nobility hate him.
The by stiffened for a moment, before he shot a glare in Light's direction. "Because this little brat showed certain pompous adults up when it counted most," the boy hissed, his obsidian eyes flashing with indigence. "They underestimated me, were underprepared, and so, when the time came, they were shown up and disgraced."
Light swallowed, seeing the boy's eyes flash in anger. "Fine. But what happens if I don't agree to this?"
"Then, by all means, you are free to go and continue living in the slums and feeding off of revolting, filthy blood," the boy said, his anger seeing to fade away, unnerving Light at the sudden switch in emotions. "But," the boy continued, holding up a slim, long finger, "this offer will only occur once. Think about your decision before leaving." He then settled back, observing Light silently.
Indecision tore at Light. While it would hurt his pride to be some manservant or assistance or whatever to some little brat, the thought of feeding off of fresh, healthy blood whenever he pleased was wholly appealing.
He had almost forgotten the taste of healthy blood… how good it felt to feel full and satisfied, with no nasty, lingering aftertaste in his mouth.
Was playing manservant to this boy such a bad condition to the deal. Speculatively, Light studied the boy, thinking.
He was intriguing, certainly. Definitely not lacking in intelligence, and he was very interesting. Certainly not lacking in amusement benefits, Light was sure. And a veritable free meal every other night or so…
Well, fuck. Light had just convinced himself into accepting it. Damn it all.
"Alright," Light said, albeit somewhat reluctantly. "I'll do it."
The boy's face lit up in a small smile, and he shifted to sit normally, leaning forwards with his hands on his knees. "Wonderful."
"I have a condition myself, though- it won't be an inconvenience, don't worry," Light quickly added, seeing the suspicion start to fill the boy's eyes. "I want to make an Accord with you."
"An Accord?" the boy asked suspiciously. "What is that?"
"Simply a deal between you and I, detailing terms that we both must abide by. In our case, it would be a deal agreeing that I will do what you wish of me and that you will supply me with you blood when I wish it. This deal cannot be broken, and by doing so, makes sure that we hold to our separate sides of the deal."
"And what happens if one of us breaks our part of the agreement?" The boy asked with a raised eyebrow.
"The deal-breaker dies and the other is freed from the Accord. Not a big deal, really," Light shrugged, feeling the silver prickled against his skin with the motion. It made him grit his teeth in annoyance- the brat had really done his research well- fucking silver…
"Ah, of course. Death is not very important to a being who deals it out every night is it?" the boy smirked and Light glared at him, getting the inkling of a suspicion that the boy wanted to nettle him.
But Light ignored this and instead pressed the issue at hand. "Well? I've agreed to work for you- will you agree to make an Accord with me?"
The boy thought for a moment before he nodded slowly, raising a thumb to his lips to mouth at it thoughtfully. "Yes."
"Alright," light said, then glanced back at his restrained hands. "You're going to have to let me go for this, though. Or do you not trust me," Light asked, seeing the boy blanch a bit as he suggested it
"You have fangs. I don't trust anything with fangs. Or anything at all, really." The boy said drily. "But, I suppose, if we are to do this…" Shifting forwards, he twisted Light's body around so that he could reach his wrists easier, and then made a chewing motion with his mouth. A second later, he stuck his tongue out and plucked a small silver key off of it, wiping it off before unlocking Light's hands.
The sliver handcuffs clicked open and fell the seat, Light making a nasty face at them while he brought his hands up to rub his wrists, regarding them almost sorrowfully at seeing the angry red rash that had started to form on them.
The boy, though, seemed to ignore Light's discomfort and shifted back into his crouch, staring at Light. "What now?"
"Now, Light said, dropping his wrist and holding out his hand, palm facing upwards, "I need your hand."
The boy seemed to hesitate, and Light only grew annoyed. The brat had better not try to weasel his way out if he was having second thoughts…
But it seemed as if Light's fears were unfounded, because the boy hesitantly stretched out his arm, placing his hand lightly in Light's own.
The hand was small and almost delicate in his, with long, slender fingers that would be easy, so very easy for Light to snap in half if he wished. All he would have to do it grab one and bend it the right way; so very, very simple.
Humans; they really are quite fragile, Light thought, curling his hand gently around the boy's and tugging him closer, bringing the boy's hand up to his mouth.
"What are you doing?" the boy's voice was sharp and laced with well-contained panic. Light only rolled his eyes; he could only imagine the thoughts flying through the boy's mind. "I'm simply starting the Accord Ritual. I'm afraid I'll need a drop of your blood…" Light opened his mouth and brought the boy's pointer finger to his mouth and carefully nicked it with a fang, drawing a small drop of blood, and a flinch from the boy a the slight prick of pain. He flicked his eyes up, and wasn't surprised to see the boy staring at him curiously, as if it were fascinating to him.
The boy seemed more like a scientist or something than anything else, but Light sincerely doubted that. He just didn't seem the part, and faintly, Light wondered what the boy actually did. He implied things, but there were no real clues as to the boy's occupation.
Not that he could have an occupation, as he was entirely too young, so it had to be something that was not exactly a job, but more of a hobby that took up his time…
He lowered the boy's hand, realizing that he had almost gotten lost in his thought and raised his own finger to his mouth, pricking his finger as well, and then pressing them together.
"This is the start of the ritual," he told the boy. "I'll need you to repeat some things after me. But I'll start. But first, I need to know your name."
The boy's eyes narrowed, and he glanced away, before muttering, "Loren Lawliet."
Light raised an eyebrow, but nodded and proceeded to speak as the boy's eyes returned to him and watched him raptly. "I, Yagami Raito, swear, in this Accord, to heed the wishes of the human boy Loren Lawliet until his death, or until the Accord is broken."
The little bit of blood seeping between their fingers started to glow, as well as Light's pointer finger. Loren watched it, his eyes narrowing as he tilted his head forwards to examine it better. Light waited a moment, and then with his other hand, gestured to the boy. "Now, I need you to repeat this…"
The boy nodded as Light finished saying it, and then repeated what he had heard. "And I, Loren Lawliet, swear, in this Accord, to provide my blood as sustenance to the vampire Yagami Raito whenever he needs or wishes it, until the Accord is broken."
Then, the blood glowed brighter and Loren's finger started to glow as well, and only continued to do so as Light spoke the last words of the ritual. "Now that the terms of this Accord have been stated and both parties have sealed the bond by blood, I declare the ritual complete and the Accord sealed!"
As Light uttered the last words, the glow increased to a bright flash of white and then abruptly disappeared, the darkness of the carriage and night outside only seeming darker after the presence of the light.
Loren blinked, and then raised his finger, his brows furrowing as he studied it, brining it closer to his face. "What is this?" he asked, holding up the finger to Light and showing off the small black kanji outlined in black that now adorned the boy's finger.
"That is my name in my native language," Light told him, holding up his own finger for Loren to see, which bore the same mark, albeit in a blood-red color. "It's a sign that you are in an Accord with me, and therefore are under my protection and off-limits to any other vampires."
"I see," Lawliet mumbled, regarding his finger with fascination. He then looked up, regarding Light with a small, somewhat triumphant smile. "The deal is sealed, yes? But… you'll be wanting my blood…" The boy paled slightly as he uttered the words, and Light could tell that he was unnerved at the idea and not fully comfortable with it. He had more than likely thought up the idea, and convinced himself to go through it without first coming to terms without it.
He had probably been enamored with the thought of finding a vampire and convincing him to serve him than actually thinking about the consequences of making a deal with the devil, so to speak.
Looking at the boy's pale features, bleached even whiter with fear, Light felt a spark of pity for the boy, and damning himself, because he was still so very hungry, and also cursing his sense of sympathy, Light decided to wait at least another night.
"Yes," Light confirmed, nodding. "However, I think I'll wait to taste your blood until another night. I'm still very full from my earlier meal," Light lied, cursing himself even as he said it. But seeing the way the boy relaxed slightly, a relieved look not fully able to be stifled spreading across his face, Light was actually glad that he had waited. He'd be good for another night, and perhaps tomorrow, Light could ease the boy into it, and help get over his fear somewhat.
After all, it would makes things very uncomfortable if the boy grew fearful every time Light needed a meal.
"I see," the boy muttered, before leaning out the window and calling out to the diver. "Take us home!"
There was no reply other than the sound of a whip cracking, and then the carriage began to move, swaying jerkily. Light was amazed that the boy managed to stay in his crouch through all of that; he must be exceedingly agile.
"So, vampire." The boy's quiet words brought Light's attention back to the boy, who was staring at him in rapt fascination. "Your name is Yagami Raito? I am familiar with the Japanese language- I've read many pieces of music from your language, and I studied the language in order to gain a better understanding of music. Your first name would come last, so that means that your name is Raito, or Light in English. Which do you prefer?"
"Light, simply because any people can't pronounce my true name correctly," Light said, smiling ruefully, crossing his arms and settling back. Stupid, this little brat was not. "You mentioned reading music; what is it you do?"
"Hm…" the boy hummed, looking down as he thought, no doubt contemplating whether he should reveal what he did.
After a moment, he slowly brought his hand up and reached into the inside breast pocket of his overcoat and drew out a sheaf of music, tossing it at Light, who caught it deftly and began to examine it, a perfectly arched eyebrow quirking as his amber eyes scanned it. "An unfinished music score…?" Light asked, looking up, staring at the boy confusedly, before it clicked. "You're a composer."
The boy bobbed his head once to signify that Light was indeed, correct. "Indeed. I have an uncanny talent for playing and composing music; I've been doing it since I was 6. Recently, I was commissioned to do a piece for an opera, a piece that would be played while the heroine was making her way through the slums and saw the poverty- ridden place. Having no experience in the slums, I had to come down and take a look for myself to garner inspiration; it was why I've been coming down here, and how I saw you."
"Well, that certainly explains the eccentricies…" Light muttered, eyeing the pale, black-haired boy, examining him in a different light now that he knew what he knew. The pale skin… being a composer, he most likely didn't get outside much. His flyaway hair and ruffled clothes signified he either didn't care about his appearance, or there was no time to take care of such things. And the black circles under his eyes and the wideness of the obsidian depths were most likely the products of many sleepless nights spent writing music.
"Yes, I suppose it does," the boy said, a small smile quirking his lips.
"Hm," Light hummed, nodding, before he turned to look back at the boy once more, deciding to change the subject. "Your own name… Lawliet, huh?" Light said, sitting back and crossing his legs, looking relaxed and at ease, regarding the boy calmly.
The boy suddenly grimaced at the name, his mood shifting from relaxed and comfortable to tense and somewhat hostile in an instant. He fixed Light with a meaningful stare, eyes narrowing into slits. "I hate that name," he hissed. "Don't utter it in my presence."
"Well then, what shall I call you?" Light questioned, looking unruffled at the boy's vehemence, although he was curious as to why, exactly, the boy disliked his own name.
The boy paused, seemingly taken aback, and stared at Light for a moment, before he looked out the window, his pale face inscrutable.
"Call me L."