Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

It’s cold today.

There’s a fog seeping over the grass that obscures the horizon and keeps the building darker for longer than usual. But all that said? It’s always warm in Wammy House. Light makes sure of it.

He wakes before almost anyone and, most nights, he’s one of the last people in the estate to curl up in bed. He takes a few minutes to himself every morning, his little selfcare prayer ritual, washing his hair, shaving his face, applying lotions and potions before slipping into something disgustingly elegant and chic. Light does long hours and he always has to be sharp but part of that, part of feeling hyper competent, is always looking this good.

Light has a routine. The cleaners work late nights, after the kids of Wammy House have fallen asleep, and Light makes a quick pass through the high traffic areas to make sure everything is the way he wants it. Assured things are the way they should be, and crossing one potential screaming match off his list, Light moves to the kitchens. The house chef and her attendants rise first in the mornings. Feeding thirty of the world’s brightest children is busy work and Light knows top quality brains need premium produce.

Watari espoused in Light the belief that life at Wammy House should, above all else, be comfortable.

When a brilliant child is well fed, well rested, and healthily attached to their caretakers they can focus on the important work of childhood; learning. If the children are distressed they won’t reach their full potential. And Light, frankly, can’t take over the modern world if his little super soldiers aren’t reaching their goals.

Everyone has a speciality at Wammy House. Linda can play over twelve instruments at a concert level, Julius can translate almost any ancient language you can think of and he’s working on cracking a few others, but Light? Well, let’s just say it became painfully obvious to Watari some time ago that for Wammy House to operate at full capacity they needed an equally developed genius to run the household and raise the children.

Light lives for this.

This is what he’s good at.

He has twenty masks, sixteen different voices, and six degrees. Wammy House is his kingdom and, from here, he can rule the whole world. Every year a child leaves, with their support, to take up a position in the real world they take with them a little of Light’s influence and a lot of loyalty towards him as family. Light wanted, more than anything, to have an impact on changing the world and this? This is how he does it.

Breakfast is coming along smoothly. Lots of food, as always, two vegetarian options and a full English breakfast with freshly squeezed juice or tea.

Confident Matilda is keeping up with his exact schedule Light moves back upstairs towards the bedrooms. He needs to wake his Lieutenants first.  

Near is still asleep but he probably fell asleep last. He’s a night owl, just like L was before him when Light was still a child at the house. Sleep is important for a functioning brain, but different people work on different schedules so Light checks the time on his phone and decides to give Near another thirty minutes to sleep.

Matt and Mello are already awake, milling around in their shared room in their pyjamas.

“Morning,” Light greets, a glow with enthusiasm.

“Morning!” The boys chorus.

“Ready to get to work?” Light supposes. “We’re running behind schedule, so I’ll need your help this morning.”

It’s a white lie but what matters to Matt and particularly Mello is feeling wanted, feeling needed. It’s not so strange for orphaned children. Mello’s eyes sharpen, nodding keenly, and Light gives his commands.

“Can you help everyone wake up and get ready for breakfast downstairs?” Light instructs. “I’ll get the big trouble makers but I can’t wrangle all the babies at the same time.”

“We’ve got this,” Matt assures, sticking a thumb up.

“I knew I could count on you,” Light smiles warmly.

The children all get sunshine.

Watari always gave them sunshine.

These are future titans of industry and intellect. Light is not keen on making any enemies. Quite the contrary; he wants as many loyal little brothers and sisters as possible.  The staff deal with Light’s exacting, ruthless, standards but the children are his project. His free range think tanks. And all twenty years of Light’s honed social training compacts itself into being their most wonderful, loving, big brother.

Mello and Matt, as two of the oldest, are starting to stretch their limits and the easiest way to keep them under thumb is to actively involve them in the running of the household. They act as Light’s lieutenants for managing the other children and they thrive under being trusted with such responsibility. Near fulfils a similar role but in a slightly altered capacity. Light makes a million little adjustments to best use the children in the house to his advantage.

As Matt and Mello wake the younger children and get them ready for breakfast Light focuses on their older, more developed, sprites and changelings.

Linda is twelve, just a little younger than Near, and she’s never in good spirits unless she’s awoken with a cuddle and a kiss. Matt and Mello are at a stage where physical affection embarrasses them and Near has never liked people invading his personal bubble, again much like L.

Light, personally, doesn’t like being touched. He’s not an intimate person. Before he learnt to masterfully change his faces for the people around him, he was a right disaster; always trying to win a game filled with rules he didn’t understand. He still doesn’t really understand sincere human emotion, but he doesn’t have to. He knows how to fake it to get what he wants. His whole personality is fluid, switching massively depending on who he’s talking to, but the simulacra he makes for the children is something he powers a lot of energy into making convincing.

They believe, in the depths of their hearts, that Light loves them desperately and only ever has their best interests in mind.

And, to a degree, Light does value them. So long as they’re useful to him he will protect them viciously but the only interests he has in mind, ultimately, are his own.

Watari might not like that, Light knows, but Watari knows that if he didn’t entrust the house to Light while he galivants with L across the world then Light would be a dangerous and volatile risk. Without something productive to contain the fury of Light’s intellect he would turn himself towards more underhanded pursuits. He would become a threat, not only to Watari, but the whole world.

It’s the double-edged sword of Wammy House; they make incredibly heroes and devastating villains.

Light doesn’t make the children pray. Many of them are orphans and while they have a lot to be grateful for it wasn’t God who dragged them out of obscurity. What saved them was the talent they all exhibited that brought them to the attention of the House. They brought themselves here, to a place where the food is always tasty and the rooms are always warm, and they shouldn’t have to thank any invisible bogeyman for their own hard work.

“Aren’t you hungry, Near?” Light asks the boy closest to him.

He keeps Near very close at the moment.

After all, Near is close to reaching his full, glittering, potential.

“Huh?” Near comes out of the wire piece puzzle in his hands and seems to remember his meal all at once. “Oh, right. I guess I’m just not hungry yet.”

“That’s alright,” Light pulls his plate out of the way so Near can lean his elbows on the table, “Matilda can make you something later.”

“Thank you,” Near murmurs.

“That might be better in the sunroom,” Light suggests over the puzzle, “it’s fine and the light in here isn’t as good. You need every detail to untangle that.”  

“Right,” Near agrees, standing. “Thank you for the food.”

“I’ll come check on you later.” Light smiles.

“Light?” Rodger appears, grasping Light’s shoulder from the opposing side. “There’s a call from L, he’s asking for you.”

Light sits back, batting Rodger’s hand off him absently. Rodger never did compute how to express his affection without irritating Light with his physicality.

“Is it an emergency?” Light asks.

“No, I don’t believe so, but—”

“Then L will have to wait,” Light dismisses, “tell him I’ll call back in an hour.”

Rodger blinks.

He always hates being caught in the middle of the Wammy House heirs. L is, debatably, Watari’s greatest achievement and since attaining that title L has become a little spoilt in Light’s opinion. L was always used to getting his own way as a child and Light is determined not to give it to him unnecessarily.

“I’ll call him back.” Light repeats, firmly, to Rodger.

Rodger hesitates but nods as Light waves him off.

Light does not work on L’s schedule. He has his own priorities. L has Watari if he really needs something and Light isn’t going to just drop everything because L the Great and Arrogant has graced him with a phone call. Tsk.

Light takes his time sitting with the children as they finish their breakfasts. He then spends the next hour setting them up for a productive morning. None of the children have classes as such. Their curriculums are entirely self-directed. Some of them have supervisors in various on site workshops so they don’t hack their little fingers off with a buzz saw. Others have tutors who come to the House and yet more still have remote classes with yet more specialists the House pays generously for their time. Some of the older children have projects. Their passions often drive them into specific interests as they get older and Light is responsible for facilitating them to develop their skills in practical ways.

Lucy is working on a submission for an English based engineering contest, Marius is doing research on scallops with the nearest university…

Light takes his time making sure his priorities are comfortable.

Then, he supposes, he should lower himself to returning L’s call.

Locking the door to his private office Light opens the curtains with his smartphone pressed against his ear. It rings twice before L answers.

“If I didn’t know any better I’d say you were dodging my calls,” L murmurs in that thick, lulling, voice of his. It’s deep which usually means he hasn’t slept for a few days.

“Am I or am I not on the phone with you right now?” Light responds, sinking into his chair and inspecting his nails.

“I suppose so, but that’s a technicality,” L argues.

“If it was an emergency you should’ve told Rodger. Or are you incapable of communicating your priorities?”

“I don’t call if it’s not important.” L maintains levelly, but his voice mumbles in a funny direction like he’s got a spoon dragging out of his mouth while they talk.

Light has known L since he was four years old. He’s one of the few at the House who remembers life before L turned eighteen. It means, in some ways, that Light can picture L in his mind vividly even after months of no contact.

“What do you want L?” Light sighs.

“No more sass for me?”

“That was the five minute argument, do you want the fifteen?” Light supposes.

“Not exactly,” L replies. “I need you to hack into a company server. Do you have your laptop?”

“I don’t need my laptop,” Light answers.

“I didn’t realize you’d finally become psychic, congratulations.”

“I don’t need my laptop because I’m not doing it.” Light clarifies.

“And why is that?”

“I’m not part of your investigation team, L.” Light stresses the point, fingers moving as if L could see them. “If you need a hacker pay someone. You have plenty of connections.”

“You’re one of my connections.” L argues, holding his stance. “You’re also one of the best hackers alive and I know this will take you twenty minutes.”

“Knowing you it will take me at least an hour,” Light snorts.

“That’s very cruel to assume.”

“If it was a twenty minute hack, L, you would’ve done it yourself.” Light calls him out. “I have things to do however so I’m not losing an hour to a case I’m not even involved in.”

“I’m sure the House won’t burn down if you disappear for an hour,” L continues to argue, “that’s why we have Rodger, right?”

“And you have Watari,” Light huffs.

“You’re being stubborn.” L grunts.

“You’re being stubborn.” Light shots back.

“Well, as head of family, I’m instructing you that this is a priority and—”

“And I work for Watari, not you.” Light counters firmly. “So if Watari wants to call me and instruct me to give you an hour please invite him to do so. He has my number. But I suspect he’s already told you no.”

“He didn’t say no, exactly,” L grumbles. “He just doesn’t like to get in the middle of us.”

Light snorts.

Watari has stayed out of their fights since Light hit puberty.

“I have to go L,” Light maintains, “good luck with your problem.”

“Brat.” L pops his lips petulantly.

Light twists his free hand into a fist but takes a deep inhale through his nose quickly.

“Goodbye L.” He grunts, hanging up before L can wriggle any deeper under his skin.

L always knows how to push his buttons.

But Light is determined not to stoop to his childish level.

Chapter Text

Light doesn’t exactly have friends but he does have connections and, every now and again, Light likes to do a few things for himself.

Well…

That might be an oversimplification.

Light has a wide, extended, family through Wammy House. He stays in touch with a large number of the children who have since left the house. Some he grew up with, some he helped raise, and he enjoys spending time with almost all of them. But those relationships are practical. Light has a specific mask for those people and they’re useful to him.

Light has a very different mask for Ryuk.

And Ryuk is less than useless to him.

“Hah, gotcha.” Ryuk garbles across the headset.

“Eat shit and die.” Light grunts back.

Ryuk just laughs harder. “Another round?”

“Switch game.” Light decides into the headset, tapping away at the keys of his laptop. “Mario Cart, chess or poker?”

“Is that even a question?” Ryuk scoffs.

“You’re such a pleb.” Light sighs, clicking into their Mario emulator.

“Yeah, yeah,” Ryuk nods along, totally unphased.

It’s nice to be mean with someone.

Ryuk wouldn’t like the clean, hospitable, side of Light. He would see the sham of it after getting to know Light in such a raw, foul, capacity. They met when Light was sixteen. They sort of crashed into each other while trying to hack into a government server. A little cussing and tracing later and they were arguing over a private chat room. A debate turned into a challenge turned into a joint effort to hack the traffic commission. It was nothing but red lights in San Fransisco for the next three hours.

Light doesn’t know, honestly, why he still talks to Ryuk but he does.

Maybe its just the smoke break between performances?

There is something freeing about being mean, like he wants to be, and with L so rarely in the country Light doesn’t have many worthy sparring partners these days.

“How’s stuff at your sweatshop?” Ryuk asks.

“You ever tried to buy Christmas presents for thirty kids with ultra-specific interests?” Light deadpans.

“I’d rather shrivel up and die.”

“Given how I picture you looking I’m sure that’s the reaction you’d incite in most children.” Light replies. “How’s your Dad?”

“Still wants me to get a real job,” Ryuk answers, “jokes on him; I’m not even real.”

Light can’t help it, he smiles, just a little.

“So about the Australian federal election—” Ryuk starts.

“Been there, broke that.” Light tsks.

“I have new ideas!” Ryuk argues. “Hear me out; we funnel all the electronic votes to a third party that doesn’t exist. I think we should elect Mister Dicknballs as prime minister, don’t you?”

“Sounds childish,” Light tuts, “and too small picture.”

“Oh?”

“We probe their servers, fail to get in a few times, pin the trace on the Chinese.”

“Oh fuck,” Ryuk laughs. “Aren’t those two in a trade war?”

“Now you’re getting it.” Light grins.

“See, buddy, this is why I like you; the ripple effects of your assholery can be felt for years.”

“I want you write that in my obituary.”

“Hey, no way, dibs on dying first!” Ryuk counters.

“Why?” Light snorts.

“I want hitting rock bottom to be the last thing I do in front of my Dad.”

“As if he’d come to your funeral.” Light snickers.

“Ouch.” Ryuk grunts. “But true.”

Light taps away, comfortable in the silence with Ryuk. Silence is, in Light’s perfect world, preferable to almost any sound on Earth. Then again, in Light’s perfect world he could have everything without having to interact with another human being, ever.

Some of his cohort used to understand that, when he was a child at the House, but…

Well…

There’s a ping all of a sudden on Light’s smartphone.

For a split second Light thinks it’s a text from a long dead brother but then—

[FRONT GATE SECURITY PASS ACCEPTED. GATE OPENED.]

Light frowns, flipping his wrist to check his watch. It’s eleven PM, Christmas Eve, who comes to the house at that kind of hour?

“I’ve got to go Ryuk,” Light warns.

“Trouble?” Ryuk supposes.

“Maybe,” Light shrugs, “call you later?”

“Later.” Ryuk agrees.

Light closes the call on one of his dirty little secrets and slips out of his office.

It’s dark in the House, just a few cursory lamps on here and there. The cleaning crew have already covered the main foyer and are in the belly of the house. Rodger and Bart should still be in the main lounge setting up a few of the bigger presents Light ordered under the lavish Christmas tree. Light wonders if maybe one of them had to run an errand at the last second because of a faulty part or other emergency but, instead, Light slips down the stairs to find Watari easing off his coat in the foyer.

L already has his shoes off.

Talk about making yourself at home.

Then again, this is L’s home, same as Light.

“Hey,” Light greets, “look what the cat dragged in.”

“Hello Light,” Watari greets with that belly warm smile that still, to this day, makes Light feel guilty in ways he doesn’t totally understand.

“We finished up the case early,” L grunts, “thought we’d stop by for Christmas.”

“I suppose I can accommodate you,” Light jokes dismissively, touching down on the tiles off the staircase. “The kids will be delighted you’re home.”

“You won’t?” L challenges immediately.

“I’m not naïve enough to assume this isn’t a business call,” Light snorts, arms folding.

“Shall we have a drink, Light?” Watari suggests warmly. “Before we all turn in for the night.”

“Sounds great,” Light agrees, “but I think Matilda’s already asleep so L might have to make his own hot chocolate.”

“Please, let me.” Watari replies. “It’s been a while since I got to take care of both of you.”

“You shouldn’t have to at your age,” Light follows after him towards the kitchen, “if L wasn’t so spoilt for attention—”

“I’m an investment with a high paying return,” L counters, unwavering and straightforward.

Light snorts.

That’s always been the joke, hasn’t it?

Watari loves them, Light is sure of that, but in the same way they are projects to Watari. He spent a lot of money raising them specifically so they could make him a lot of money and clout as time goes on. Watari hates to draw attention to the fact but all the elder children of the House are acutely aware of the reality of the situation. It’s a harsh part of growing up in this idyllic little castle: at some point it inevitably clicks in your mind that you’re a investment and there are a lot of expectations heaped upon you to perform. Watari loves them, yes, but he expects them to be the best.

Light leans into the kitchen counter, the artificial glow of the recess lighting in the ceiling casting funny shadows in the space. Watari still moves through the pantry with confidence. Light keeps things organized just so and, in that case, Watari never has trouble finding anything he needs even after months abroad. L leans into the opposing side of the counter, slouching a little deeper than Light.

L and Light are twenty-six and twenty respectively this year. Light always thought their styles would become less binary and extreme as they both became adults, but L still looks cheap and scruffy even as the World’s Greatest Detective.

“Before we get into the heavy stuff,” Light supposes as Watari heats up the milk, “I am glad you’re both here. I’ve been meaning to speak with you.”

“Something wrong, Light?” Watari asks.

L traces the flecks in the granite, but Light knows he’s listening.

“Near’s almost there,” Light explains. “I think it’s time.”

“Really?” Watari hums, turning back to the counter.

“Time for what?” L grunts.

“He’s fifteen now and he’s been training to be your successor diligently,” Light continues, “but it’s reaching a point where I will soon have exhausted all practical ways to further his education here at the House. He needs to start his apprenticeship with you, in the field.”

“No,” L replies.

Light stalls.

He says it so matter of fact, unapologetic and unhesitating, he doesn’t even consider it.

Light curls his fingers tighter into his palm on the counter.

“If you want a successor you need to take responsibility for him at some point.” Light warns, voice as calm and level as he can keep it.

“Watari wants me to have a successor,” L counters, “but as I intend to live for a very long time yet I don’t have any use for Near in the field. He would be a burden upon my investigations.”

Light’s nails bite a little deeper.

“You told me to get Near ready, he’s ready.” Light growls.

“He has plenty of prospects, I’m sure you’ve raised a very intelligent detective,” L rubs his bottom lip with his thumbnail, not even making eye contact as he makes patterns on the granite. “He’ll be fine.”

“He’ll become a liability if we let him stew without any goals.” Light stresses. “Idles hands are the devil’s, right Watari?” He makes the argument pointedly.

Watari might not like to get between them but he’s created this stalemate. He needs to get involved and Light won’t let him pretend this isn’t his problem.

“I do believe we should discuss this, in detail, when we’re all rested.” Watari declares, hands still working placidly over the stove. “I’m sure L will feel differently once he’s had a chance to see how far Near’s progressed himself.”

“I think that’s a very naïve assumption,” L counters coolly.

“Look,” Light snaps, “it’s not Near’s fault you two royally botched B.”

“Light,” Watari hisses, warning.

“If you’re not going to say it, I will.” Light growls. 

“Last time I checked, Light,” L raises his eyes, finally, to meet Light’s gaze, “the only person who still holds me responsible for A and B’s deaths is you.”

“That’s not true,” Light laughs cruelly, “I don’t hold you responsible for A’s death. That’s Watari’s fault exclusively.”

Watari turns back to the stove.

He doesn’t argue.

He doesn’t defend himself.

No one would agree with him regardless.

They all know that.

“We have something more important to talk about,” L declares, dismissing the whole conversation in one sweeping motion. “It’s come to my attention—”

“I’m not interested in meeting your needs until one or both of you are willing to compromise with me,” Light snaps, putting his foot down. “Unless you’re willing to discuss a real solution for Near and his future, I don’t want to hear it.”

There is a beat of silence.

Watari glances, almost hopefully, to L.

“Near isn’t my problem.” L maintains.

“I’m going to bed.” Light announces.

“Light—” L starts.

“Goodnight.” Light blows them both off, stalking out of the kitchen.

Life in Wammy House was not always easy or comfortable. Before the administration really got a handle on things you had a much smaller group of very intelligent, very hormonal, teenagers rubbing up against each other with less to keep them gainfully distracted.

Light still remembers it.

He was the baby back then.

The smallest, the youngest, the most volatile.

Watari knew Light was fast becoming a problem, a big problem, but he had yet to really knuckle down on the solution that would save Light and protect the rest of them from his undirected intelligence. Light was, back then as now, a creature with very little experience of genuine human emotion and in a small space with people who knew him very well it was easy for the others to push his buttons.

Beyond, B, was very good at pushing buttons.

From oldest to youngest, it was the four of them; L, Beyond, Able and Light.

L had reached that point, that peak, where his full potential had become apparent. Watari knew he has something extraordinarily special and he was beginning to wonder if he could replicate it exactly. Which was, in turn, putting a lot of pressure on the younger children.

Watari never did like giving out punishments but…

“What’s wrong Kira?” Beyond sung. “Did you lose computer privileges again?”

“Get lost.” Light grunted, curled up in the window seat. He was being petulant, but he was twelve. It was kind of his right to be petulant at that stage. 

“Baby Kira fucked up,” Beyond teased, leaning into his knees over Light.

“That’s not my name,” Light growled, tucking his knees against his chest.

He never liked feeling crowded.

But Beyond loved a good argument.

“Really?” The elder boy grinned, leaning a little lower, encroaching a little further in Light’s space despite the growing tension in his shoulders. “I think it suits you better.”

Light remembers launching off the window seat and tackling the older, wirier, boy into the floor.

Beyond’s head hit the floor hard and that disorientated him long enough for Light to start wailing on him with punches.

“Guys!” Able shrieked.

L was the eldest and the biggest at eighteen. He made quick work of hooking his arms around Light and heaving him off Beyond. He held Light, panting and kicking, off his feet.

“Don’t.” L told him. “He’s not worth it.”

And with just that phrase, that idea, L drained all the smugness out of Beyond’s face in an instant.

That anger Light saw in that second, on Beyond’s face, should’ve told him they were moving towards disaster.

He should’ve known.

Light was always easier to make snap than L or Able. That was probably why he was the target in the first place. He was in an awkward place, growing in funny directions, and that made him easy pickings for Beyond. Then again, Beyond was also in an awkward position, shoved under a microscope. It was no surprise he’d start lashing out and, in some ways, he and Light probably understood each other best. 

Light didn’t like Beyond very much before he left the house. Hell, even Able was hard to be around when his depression crept in earnest, but…

That doesn’t mean, in his heart, that Light wanted either of them to die.

The rooms for the children at Wammy House used to be bigger, closer to Watari’s suite, but in the early days there weren’t so many of them either. That means that Light’s room has, in effect, been the same since he was four years old. He’s got bigger bed now, a few different pieces of furniture, and most of his tech is in his office down the hall but, in some ways, nothing has changed.

Light hates these thoughts.

They’re so intrusive and ugly.

He hates them because, for all his intellect, he can’t do much with them.

He doesn’t understand his own feelings. He fakes them, every day, but when they’re sincere they’re too much for him to compute. He likes to walk away from them but…

Light is aware of his door being unlocked but he doesn’t lift his head.

Watari’s the only other person with a key but Watari has always been a deep sleeper.

“I don’t want to talk.” Light grumbles, curling tighter.

“You don’t have to talk,” L assures, climbing into the other side of the bed.

“I don’t want to listen either.” Light insists.

“You don’t have to listen,” L promises, hooking his arm around Light over the blankets and tucking up against his back.

L’s thighs slot behind Light’s, his chest against Light’s spine.

Light sighs, exhausted, and stews for a moment longer.

Light has a lot of…

He knows though, in his gut, that L didn’t want them to die either.

Being the golden child probably isn’t any easier than being the spare, right?

Light huffs, wriggling out a little from under the blanket and slides his fingers over the hand tucked around him on the end of L’s arm.

“I missed you,” L murmurs against the back of his skull, already sounding sleepier.

“I missed you too,” Light admits.

He’ll deny it if asked in the morning.

But what they say in the dark doesn’t count.

Those are the rules.

Chapter Text

L is gone in the morning. Light knows it wasn’t a dream but sometimes…

Life is so hard sometimes.

Light takes his time. It’s still early and even with the children inclined to rise a little ahead of schedule this morning he should still have enough time to shower and get dressed the way he likes. Moisturizer, lip balm, cologne…

It’s been snowing most of the last week so it’s nothing but white outside the window.

At least white is simple.

Light checks the main lounge first. Rodger and Bart have done a good job setting up the bigger presents for the whole House and the smaller, individual presents, are all wrapped to Light’s exacting standards.

Matilda has been up for hours by the time Light enters the kitchen.

“God it smells so good in here!” Light encourages. “Are we on schedule?”

“The roast is taking a little longer than I would like.” Matilda admits. “We might be a little behind. Should only be forty-five minutes, at most.”

“No, absolutely not,” Light dismisses sternly. “Are the scones done?”

“Yes Sir,” Matilda nods, knowing better than to argue.

“Pancakes and scones, tea and juice, we’ll have a light breakfast while the kids open presents. I want everything else ready for a late lunch, are we agreed?”

“Yes Sir, thank you Sir.” Matilda consents. “It’ll be ready.”

Light runs into Watari as he exits the kitchen.

“Coming to check up on things?” Light laughs lazily.

“Old habit,” Watari shrugs, “but you beat me to it?”

“I did,” Light promises. “Go sit down, Watari. Have Rodger get you a pipe. Everything is under control. Just enjoy some time with the kids.”

“They were starting to wake up when I came down,” Watari chuckles, letting Light direct him towards the lounge.

“I better go supervise,” Light tuts, darting back up the main stairs.

Light hits the top of the stairs and heads into the wing where the majority of the bedrooms are. He pauses, just for a second, to hear some soft chattering behind various doors. There’s a little grogginess, to be expected, it’s still early after all.

Content with the mood of things Light checks the time and his list once more before sticking two fingers into his mouth and whistling hard and loud.

“It’s Christmas!” He whoops, hand by his mouth.

There’s a cheer and in the next thirty seconds a gaggle of children swarm out of their rooms. They’re still in pyjamas mostly but Light won’t hassle them to get dressed today. They’re just going to get food all over their clothes anyway and this is a holiday.

Linda gives him a big hug as she passes, Light rubs between her shoulders, and Julius and Lucy ask all the typical questions about presents.

Mello and Matt come from the back, two of the tallest at sixteen.

“Merry Christmas,” Matt chirps.

“Merry Christmas,” Light purrs warmly. “You should head downstairs, there’s a special surprise for you two and Near.”

“Huh?” Mello grunts.

“We have guests.” Light winks.

Matt glances to Mello, surging with energy, but Mello has already bolted off down the hall.

Watari and L are features of their lives and the older children always love the occasion to show off and snuggle up to the head honchos. Light perhaps has more power and influence over their lives but Watari and L feel special given how rare their appearances are.

Light makes a quick, internal, count as the children head downstairs. Twenty-seven, twenty-eight, twenty-nine…

Where’s Near…?

Light slips into his bedroom with a cursory knock.

“Near?” He greets, finding the teen engaged in a card tower at his desk. He’s obviously been awake for a while. “You okay kiddo?” Light supposes, hand falling between his shoulder blades.

“I heard L and Watari come home last night,” Near murmurs in that impeccably level tone of his.

Light sighs, shifting to lean against the edge of Near’s desk. “Did you just? How much did you hear exactly?”

“Bits and pieces.” Near answers vaguely. “I wasn’t trying to eavesdrop.”

“Eavesdropping can be informative,” Light forgives. “Did it worry you?”

“L doesn’t want me.” Near murmurs, straight to the point. “I’ve been trained for nothing.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Light tsks dryly, “Near, do you want me to be honest with you?”

Near pauses, glancing up at Light’s face.

Light lets a little more of himself show in the expression and Near, unused to being privy to such a sly expression on Light’s face, seems fascinated.

“L is a genius.” Light agrees, curling his thumb and forefinger under Near’s chin. “But so are you and you don’t need to live in anyone’s shadow.”

“Watari said—”

“Watari wants a replacement for L,” Light agrees, “that’s his idea of success. My parameters are not so short sighted or limited. With your intellect you have the potential to become something much more exciting than just a successor to someone else. Whatever Watari says, whatever L offers or doesn’t, my priority is helping you grasp your full potential.”

Near glances away, digesting that, but leaves his chin in Light’s grasp.

“You’ll support me?”

“Always,” Light smiles, mask sliding back on as he withdraws his hand. “Just enjoy Christmas and trust that whatever happens we will find you a place to shine.”

“Thanks Light,” Near quirks the corner of his mouth up ever so slightly.

“Come on,” Light offers his hand. “I think you’ll like your present.”

Light leads most of the morning but, eventually, the children are aglow with their new gifts and Light can lounge in his armchair by the fire watching them tinker. Another year, more good memories to add to their little keepsake boxes…

Light does so enjoy it when a little plan comes together.

Some of the children fuss over Light but most of them are distracted by Watari and L. Watari has always had a demeanour that children gravitate towards. He’s not a genius himself, but he is clever and he actively engages with them. He takes an interest in them and makes them feel seen. L’s appeal is more of a sideshow attraction. He’s a legend to the children and they’re all keen to unravel or impress him.

Watari has sat Near between himself and L in an attempt to develop the conversation but Near is unlikely to get a word in edgewise with Mello and Matt demanding L regale them with stories from his latest cases. L is patient, more so than you’d expect from an eccentric lone detective, but he was raised in a house filled with bright children and though he’s strange and sometimes difficult he takes to the role of big brother with a startling sincerity that always catches the children.

L is not easily impressed. He does not throw out praise for every remark or relayed achievement. He doesn’t hide when he’s losing interest either. It’s a bit of a workout for gifted children who are so used to being the centre of attention. They want to prove themselves to L. They want to pass his test.

Light knows however that there is no test.

L cares about them all, as much as he is able to, but L doesn’t give anyone handouts. He doesn’t seem to understand that people need or want them. He is perfectly transparent and no amount of sucking up will win special treatment. L has one frequency.

It’s not till much later in the day, after a late lunch and many hours of games, that the three of them settle in Watari’s office. Being L is home they have wine and tiramisu both. Light cuts the cake with his spoon, plate in his lap, and Watari adjusts the fire a little hotter as the snow continues to fall outside.

“So then,” Watari joins them, “let’s talk business.”

“As I made perfectly clear last night, I am not discussing anything else until we settle the Near debate.” Light maintains, picking up his wine to sip.

Watari glances, hopefully, to L.

L sighs.

“Near, if he likes, can come assist me on cases. More as a PA than an active detective given his age. He’ll spend most of his time with Watari I would imagine.” L drawls, slicing off a piece of dessert with his spoon. “I have no time for complications however so if he can’t manage I will not hesitate to return him to you.”

“Near will be fine,” Light asserts stubbornly, “you’ve always been the difficult one.”

“Are we agreed then?” L asks, ignoring the jab.

“I suppose,” Light concedes, “provided you will outline Nears options to him tomorrow?”

“Watari can handle it.” L grunts. “I have nothing especially pertinent to say on the matter.”

“It’ll suffice,” Light accepts the compromise, for now. “Now what’s your issue?”

“I want to talk long term practicalities,” L declares.

“Oh?” Light snorts.

“Contingency planning.”

“I thought you intended to live for a long time?” Light teases petulantly.

“I do,” L counters, “but Watari is getting older and my work puts me in dangerous positions. Watari suggested this might also be of interest to you.”

“Oh?” Light hums.

“You formally have authority over the House,” L reminds, “and Watari’s will has already firmly established who will receive what from the estate in the event of his death. I have no interest in running the House, as you know—”

“And I have no interest in being a detective,” Light agrees.

“Right,” L nods, “but, likewise, if you were injured, became ill or were otherwise incapacitated it could put the House in a precarious position.”

“If this is about me finding a successor—” Light scoffs.

“No, not at all,” L counters immediately. “Actually, I think we should put measures in place so, if anything happens, we can act on each other’s behalf.”

Light pauses to consider that.

L is a difficult man but he’s also the smartest man Light knows. If something did happen there’s no one better equip to protect Wammy House and its interests. Likewise, Light can understand why L would want him to be able to intervene if he was shot or such during the flow of a case. It’s an emergency protocol they honestly ought to have considered earlier.

“How do you figure we’d do that?” Light supposes, cautious but intrigued.

“I’ve been exploring options,” L reveals, spoon in his mouth indelicately. “And honestly it seems like the most effective solution is to get married.”

Light chokes on his wine.

L tilts his head. “Are you alright?”

Light puts his glass down and laughs into his knuckles.

He starts laughing so hard he has to put the dessert plate down on the coffee table. “I’m sorry,” he promises between cackles. “I’m sorry…”

“I’m serious.” L deadpans.

“I’m sure you are!” Light laughs. “But that’s an absurd solution.”

“It’s simple, streamline.” L argues stubbornly. “Don’t toss out an effective solution without at least considering it.”

Light gets his laughter under control enough to ask; “And what do you think about this, Watari?”

“I think it’s practical,” Watari nods in that surly, British, way of his. “I don’t like the idea of a third party interfering with the estate after I’m gone. I trust you both. Your cooperation would be the best possible outcome.”

Light snorts, feeling slowly cornered all of a sudden.

“I thought half the point of L having a successor was having someone to take care of this sort of thing?” He argues.

“Well that seem unlikely, at least in the next decade,” L maintains. “I don’t trust Near to make those kinds of decisions. I trust you.”

Light isn’t sure how to say this…

Should he be nice?

No, scratch that.

“Well, personally,” Light starts carefully, “I’m interested in untangling our connections long term. I want to be independent of L.”

L frowns.

“I’m part of this.” L grunts. “This is my home too.”

“Yes,” Light strains, “but you don’t want to run the House and I don’t want someone telling me what to do.”

“I have no interest in micromanaging you,” L assures.

Light scowls, jaw tensing.

He leans into his knees, gaze pointed; “and are you going to police who I sleep with?”

L opens his mouth but nothing comes out.

“Of course not,” Watari answers before L can find his words. “Purely practical. Who either of you sleep with is a personal matter, this is completely about the estate and your safety.”

Light watches L.

L stuffs his spoon back into his mouth.

“I have some reservations,” Light maintains.

“That’s what a prenup is for.” Watari promises. “We can make some clear distinctions, as I have in my will, and if in ten years’ time you’re ready to shift the arrangement and give next of kin responsibilities to your relevant successors then everything will be in place.”

“I need to think about it.” Light grunts, refusing to make any decisions right here.

“I’ll have something written up that you can review,” Watari assures, gently pushing. “I think it would be best. It would certainly put me at ease.”

Light sips his wine.

He’s not sure what to say.

It’s insidious because, in so may ways, it does make sense.

Chapter Text

Light’s problem, in many ways, is that he doesn’t really have anyone to discuss this proposal with. After all he doesn’t have many friends, does he…?

Light stews, staring at his ceiling, arms above his head.

Ryuk is unlikely to understand everything he’s dealing with. In some ways that might lend itself to a more honest opinion but at the same time he might miss some critical nuance.

Light could contact another ex-Wammy kid like Eden or Art but…

Well, he doesn’t really want to involve them in this. They’d have their own priorities and while Light likes to use them he doesn’t want to make himself vulnerable to their own desires. An ex-Wammy kid is smart enough to try and twist Light’s decision to benefit themselves.

How should Light play this?

It does, practically, make sense but Light wants to escape the thumb of his elders and have complete control over the House.

Still…

Would L ever take advantage of the situation? He doesn’t care about the House anymore than Light cares about his investigations. It’s likely L would only use this during emergencies and other complicated situations.

Besides, it’s not like Light has anyone he could consider taking his place short or long term.

The children that live in the House currently, all thirty of them, are brilliant and well cultivated but none of them match his particular expertise well enough to consider for this position.

What should he do?

Knock-knock.

Light hesitates.

He checks his phone.

It’s almost one am, but L would just let himself in so…

Light unlocks the door and—

“Mello?” He greets, confused.

Mello sniffs, eyes red rimmed, expression stern and determined. He’s been thinking again, thinking too much. Light tilts his head, confused, and Mello gathers up the guts to throw his arms around Light’s waist and bury his face in his chest.

Light grunts, catching the adolescent. He doesn’t like to be touched but the children and their needs take priority in that discussion. He grips Mello’s shoulders, steadying them both.

“You want to talk?” Light supposes softly, patting a hand down Mello’s hair, cradling the back of his skull.

Mello nods stubbornly into his chest, arms tight as little vices around his middle.

“Come in then.” Light invites, shuffling Mello inside and pulling his bedroom door shut. “It’s late, buddy, what’s all this about? Come sit down and tell me what’s wrong.”

Mello sits on the edge of the bed, next to Light and smears at his face with his knuckles as he gathers himself up for whatever he wants to say.

Light rubs between his shoulder blades gently.

“I’m getting old,” Mello growls, frustration evident.

“No, you’re not,” Light chuckles warmly. “You’re only sixteen.”

“That’s old by Wammy standards!” Mello stresses.

Light takes that on board.

Mello’s right.

He and Matt are the two oldest children in the House. Most of them have been shipped out to external program; early university entry, scholarships, space programs, apprenticeships…

“Why haven’t you sent me somewhere yet?” Mello demands.

“Well…” Light walks a fine line. “I’m waiting for you to be ready. Some people take a little longer to cook than others.”

Mello listens, knuckles white on his knees.

“You’re safe here, and this is your home,” Light promises. “I have no doubt you’ll be exceptional as an adult and I do have places I want to send you, when you’re ready, but you need a little longer to really grow. That’s okay, it’s not as race.”

“Where would I go?” Mello asks, gaze wavering. “My training hasn’t been very specific so—”

“Your training just isn’t as obvious as linguistics or biology,” Light assures.

Mello lifts his head back towards Light, curious.

“Your skill Mello has always been your social skills and your initiative,” Light reveals, still gently rubbing between Mello’s shoulder blades. “When you’re ready there are certain universities I have lined up for you. You’ve got a great future in politics.”

“I don’t want to be a politician,” Mello sneers.

“Not a politician,” Light clarifies, “an activist, a revolutionary. Politics is not all men in suits. I think there are a number of ethical and social movements you could give legs too.”

“What if I don’t want that either?” Mello grumbles, more hesitantly this time.

“Well, it is your future,” Light concedes, warning; “but I can’t guarantee you success will come as easily in other fields than the ones I’ve been preparing you for.”

Mello chews on his bottom lip for a moment.

“What do you want to be?” Light entertains the tantrum for a moment.

“I want to work with L,” Mello declares, “I want to be a detective.”

Light tries not to let his disapproval show in his face.

Other conversations, long buried, surge through his memory.

Fights with Beyond, with Able…

Long nights, tantrums, vicious shifts in routines and exacting expectations as a fierce competitiveness seized the whole House…

Light was never entered into the tournament for L’s successor and he’s glad for that. The whole debacle turned him off the idea entirely long before he’d even had a chance to become interested.

He hates the idea that history could repeat itself.

Near and Mello are two of his finest creations, expertly reared and cultivated in his little green house, he would hate them both to burn to oblivion flying towards L’s sun.

“You don’t think I could do it?” Mello snaps, catching something in Light’s face.

“It’s not that, Mello,” Light promises. “I think you’re capable of anything you set your mind to. I just don’t think you would be happy in that life.”

“But I want to try,” Mello stresses, determined. “I want to prove I can do it.”

Light sighs, uncomfortable and quietly frustrated.

Why can’t children cooperate?

Obviously Light knows best. He’s trained them. Why is Mello questioning him now?

Has Light not been attentive enough?

“Please ask L to consider me,” Mello pleads. “Please.”  

Light frowns.

Damn idiot boy.

“If this means so much to you Mello,” Light drawls gently, “I think you should make your case to L directly. You need to prove yourself to him, not me.”

“Okay,” Mello murmurs, nodding. “I’ll do that. I’ll talk to him.”

Light chews on his spite.

“Do you think he’s awake now?” Mello asks, cautious.

L rarely sleeps so…

“Probably,” Light admits. “Would you like me to take you to him?”

“Really?” Mello brightens. “Yes! Please!”

Light pulls them both up, lacing his fingers with Mello’s.

It’s important that Mello feel this rejection sharp and fast.

If Light is going to redirect him to the correct path than allowing him to fail in this ludicrous act is the first step. L barely wants Near to accompany him. He certainly won’t agree to another child in attendance.

Once Mello is devastated Light can recalibrate and set him straight.

Maybe this surge of passion will finally bring Mello into his own spark?

L’s office is dark and cold. L lives in a world of pixels and there’s very little but the glow of the screen casting shadows that deepen the recesses of the high ceilings. Light escorts Mello into the sanctum, using his own key, but L doesn’t lift his gaze.

“Yes Light?” L grunts.

Mello glances, Light nudges him forward gently.

“I—” Mello hesitates for a split second. “L please, I want to have a chance to work as your apprentice too!”

It surges out of Mello, so dramatic, but the whole force of it seems to bounce off L who doesn’t even react. Mello is, in some ways, just a teenage boy. More prone to this nonsense than Near despite their great intellects. Where Near is utterly abysmal in social interactions Mello has little emotional stability. He has the disposition of a passionate person, not a steady one.

“Why?” L supposes blandly. “Light already wants me to take on Near, why should I take you both? That’s unnecessary trouble for me however you look at it.”

“Because I want to be a detective!” Mello declares, his whole heart channelled into the phrase.

“Being a detective isn’t very glamorous,” L murmurs, “most people don’t even know I exist, have never heard my name, and I’m the world’s greatest detective.”

“I don’t care.” Mello stands his ground, fists tight by his side. “I want to help people. I want to stop bad guys. That’s what I want.” 

“And if I tell you no?” L supposes, still looking at his screen.

“Then I’ll do it anyway!” Mello snaps petulantly. “If you and Light and Watari won’t support me I’ll go to school myself!”

L pauses.

Light feels something awful, something dark, roll over in his stomach the moment L lifts his head and really, truly, seems to see Mello.

Those eyes, that recognition…

L cares for many people, for all of his family, but there aren’t many people L recognizes with those eyes, that glance…

L never looked at Able or Beyond that way. Light used to think he only looked at Watari with those eyes. But then, all at once, L locked those eyes on Light and his life was ruined.

And now…

“Well then,” L pivots his chair towards Mello, “it sounds like you’ll be a useful asset to my team.”

Mello blinks, jerking up his head from the patch of floor he’s been stubbornly glaring at.

“R-really…?” He fumbles.

“Yes,” L nods simply. “I’d like you to work with me.”

Mello bursts into a relief, a glow, and all at once Light can see his potential peaking through.

No.

No.

Not here.

Not like this.

“Thank you!” Mello reels.

“I’ll tell you the same thing I’m going to tell Near, tomorrow,” L warns. “I don’t have time to slow down or repeat myself. If you can’t keep up, I won’t hesitate to send you back here. People’s lives are at risk and you can’t afford to slack off.”

“I won’t,” Mello promises, “I won’t let you down.”

“Go sleep.” L directs, turning back to his computer. “You won’t get many lazy mornings when we fly out in a few days.”

“Right! Thank you!” Mello beams, bounding out of the room.

Light doesn’t move.

Light lets the door snap shut after Mello, his fingers digging into his crossed arms, and lets the force of his rage seep through him.

“Yes Light?” L permits.

“No.” Light hisses.

“You’ll have to be more specific.” L grunts.

“You cannot have Mello.” Light growls through his teeth.

“I’ve already agreed to take him onboard.” L maintains. “If you didn’t want to give him the option to work with me, why did you even bring him in here?”

“I wanted you to tell him no,” Light snaps, “I wanted you to break those stupid fantasies of his so I can put him back to work.”

“I see,” L murmurs.

“Why didn’t you tell him no?” Light demands. “I had to harass you to take Near and I’ve trained him for this. For you!” Light hears his voice raising but he can’t stop it. Can’t stop himself.

“I didn’t want to be L,” he grunts, “I wanted to be a detective. Just like Mello does now. If I have to support this whole process, I would rather take on a boy who knows what he wants than a boy who doesn’t question what he’s told.”

“You’re impossible!” Light booms.

“You’re the one who’s shouting.” L counters.

“Because you don’t care!” Light hisses. “Because it’s not your responsibility to keep them alive; it’s mine!”

“They’re people Light,” L murmurs, “people will never be totally predictable, no matter what manipulations you apply.”

Light seethes.

Stalking across the office Light doesn’t think, doesn’t hesitate.

He grabs L’s laptop off the desk and cracks the spine back the wrong way in one curt, ruthless, motion like he’s breaking the neck on a cat.

L blinks.

Light drops the ruined electronic on the floor and spins out of the room.

He’s too angry for words.

Chapter Text

When Light was six everything, everyone, was too loud.

He had learnt, by then, that he had to play nice to be allowed to do what he wanted to do. Even if he didn’t understand it. People, other children, they all seemed so exhausting and emotional. They felt things Light didn’t feel in ways he didn’t understand.

He had no patience for them.

He liked books and puzzles but…

People were not the ultimate puzzle then, oh no, they were the ultimate obstacle. A nuisance.

Light had learnt how to move his face to smile. It was a fake smile but convincing enough at this point that he could act out most of the social niceties expected of someone his age. Still he was small and there were times when…

The other children were playing a game.

Light had become involved but…

He wasn’t aware of his eyes skirting off into space a little too long, drowning out the sound, until he heard that familiar voice;

“Light,” L called, “I need your help. Can you come with me for a little while?”

Light snapped back to attention.

“Yeah, sure!” He chirped, sliding off the couch and waddling up to L who took his hand.

L was twelve, as brilliant as ever, and seemingly the only person who didn’t care if Light’s expression turned passive and cold as it was want to do.

L didn’t have an office then, but his room did have a lock.

Light followed him into the bedroom, watched L lock the door, and glanced around the books scattered everywhere looking for an obvious task.

“What do you need?” Light asked, pitching his tone just interested enough to pass as civil.

“You looked like you were starting to get tired,” L answered, crouching down before him. “And when you get grumpy, Kira comes out, right?”

Light blinked, afraid to answer.

“I’ve got a new modern art book I want to enjoy, in peace,” L explained. “But you can hide here, if you want, until you feel ready to deal with people again. Sound good?”

Light remembers sagging, the fight leaving him, the relief hitting him.

“Yes, please,” he murmured tiredly.

L nodded, smile tiny, and Light spent the next two hours curled on L’s bed while the bigger boy flipped, quietly, through his new art history book cross legged on the bed.

“I don’t understand people sometimes,” L spoke suddenly. “I feel what they feel but communicating myself with them is hard. Is it like that for you Light?”

“No,” Light murmured into L’s pillow. “I don’t…”

L glanced down on him, waiting, patient.

“I don’t feel those things. I feel different things.” Light tried to understand. “I don’t want to smile. But when I’m just me people are scared.”

“You don’t scare me,” L assured. “You’re just you, Light.”

Light sprawls in his bed, glaring at the ceiling. Arms extended out beside his head his fingers curl and extend, clenching and releasing fists on his pillows. Damn L and fuck Watari. They’re going to do it again and waste two perfectly good, useable, children.

Then again, what can Light do?

Children are replaceable, even those of the genius variety. Light will just have to cultivate more. He can’t control what happens to Near and Mello now. They’re lost to him, lost to themselves probably, and as wasteful as that is they’re not Light’s problem anymore. They’re gone and dead already.

He can’t afford to waste time on failed projects.

The good thing about not feeling right, feeling normal, is that people are much more expendable to Light. He has spent time and energy on Mello and Near but just like weed he can pull them out and move on.

Light drags himself out of bed and spends his precious temple time getting ready for the day. Potions, lotions, ironed shirts and antique ivory combs…

In the mirror he can see Kira this morning.

He watches his face, the sharpness of his eyes, and tries, not for the first time, to push it all down. The children can’t see him like this. He’s too fierce in this style.

‘Kira’ was Beyond’s favourite joke and, even with Beyond dead the joke lingers after Light like a bad smell. The stench of Beyond’s corpse hitting the room.

All the children at Wammy House have aliases. Birth names are one of the first things the house strips away from incoming wards in the process of rebuilding them as loyal parts of the family. Everything external has to go. Comfort items, clothes, names…

Light was named thus by Watari but, whenever this nasty side of himself reared its ugly head, Beyond always called it, called him, ‘Kira’. The name became so insidious that even L used it from time to time. It’s as much part of Light as anything.

Light has to wonder if that meanness, that cruelty, is more his real self?

Light is a procession of masks.

Is Kira just who he is lurking under it all?

Light helps Mello and Near pack up in the proceeding days after Christmas. He smiles, he pets their hair, but they’re not his anymore. They belong to L now so they might as well be dead, and Light will be happier when they’re out of his way for good.

On the third of January L and Watari are scheduled to fly out of London airport to New York for a new case. The first case Mello and Near will work on as freshly minted Wammy House graduates. Standing in the foyer the adults exchange a few last technical details as Mello and Near say their goodbyes to the other children.

“Like we discussed,” Watari tells Light warmly, “I’ll have House legal email you a copy of the prenup. You can review it and if there are amendments you’d like to make—”

“I’ll keep on top of it,” Light dismisses as kindly as he can. “I’ll let you know my decision as soon as I’m able. I do understand the practicality of the proposal but there’s a lot to consider.”

“Of course,” Watari nods.

“The boys are taking their time,” L sighs. “Watari, can you hurry them along?”

It’s an obvious distraction but Watari has never liked to get in between L and Light.

“Of course,” Watari agrees, heading towards Mello and Near.

“I don’t want to talk,” Light grunts.

“You don’t have to talk,” L promises, “but you might have to listen this time.”

“Make it quick then,” Light sighs, arms folding as he watches the children. 

“If you have some serious concern about the marriage then you should let me know so we can debate it.” L supposes.

Light groans. “You’re not even going to talk about the other night?”

“When you broke my laptop?” L supposes.

“Yes.” Light hisses.

“No, I have nothing else to say,” L shrugs, “and you made yourself as perfectly clear as you always do. Besides, I’m sure you’ve already let go of the boys. Right?”

Light sighs, shoulders slumping. “Yes.”

“Then what’s to discuss?” L asks, seemingly genuinely confused.

“Nothing,” Light surrenders this time. “Good luck with the children.”

“I think you should be wishing them good luck, I’m not the one who has to prove anything,” L replies lazily.

The House is quieter without Mello. The atmosphere noticeably shifts as children age in and out of the facility. Near’s room sits empty, Matt is without a roommate and Light has more space in the House again to expand. Not to say they don’t always make room for exceptional talent, the House can hold upwards of fifty children, but a smaller number is more conducive for advanced learning.

With Mello gone Light has moved forward his plans for Matt. The paperwork will have to be rushed somewhat but Matt should be able to start mid-year at MIT. Matt passed the aptitude tests with flying colours and he long since attained the equivalent of his high school certification. Even depressed a Wammy kid can’t really fail. Hell, Light remembers not being able to fail when he wanted to botch a test royally. It’s hard to be dumb convincingly.

Rodger and Matt accompany Light into London in March.

Rodger is attending Matt to update his passport for the flight to America where he will be sponsored by one of their connections if not another Wammy graduate. Light is trying to secure Sprite to supervise Matt, but the graduate is very busy with his space engineering program. Still Light will twist his arm if he has to. He’s been known to do that.

Light, meanwhile, has to make a visit to Swan and Tuck; the law firm which represent Wammy House and its interests.

They have a lot of money and, as such, Light rather expects to receive the royal treatment when he rolls up to the reception desk. Sure enough he’s waiting no more than three minutes before a handsome man comes to escort him into a private office.

“Mister Quillish?” The man greets, offering his hand to shake.

“Yagami, technically.” He replies with a curt shake. “But I’d rather you call me Light. I don’t use my birth name unless it’s strictly necessary.”

“Of course,” the lawyer concedes. “My name is Teru Mikami. Mister King has recently retired so the firm has asked me to take over managing your file. Mister Swan has explained to me some of the specifics but forgive me if I still have some things to learn.”

“I’ll whip you into shape.” Light smirks. “Just don’t expect me to repeat myself.”

“Of course not, Light,” MIkami extends his arm. “Please, this way.”

Mikami takes his coat and Light sinks into a padded chair in a warm, clean, office with the practiced elegance he’s known for. Legs crossing he takes in Mikami’s certifications and degrees lining the wall. He’s obviously quite decorated for his age. Light even recognises the flourishes of several institutes they send Wammy graduates too.

“So, Light, where would you like to start?” Mikami invites.

“Let’s start with the upcoming adoption.” Light clasps his hands over his knee.

“The adoption process is moving along smoothly. Romania is… laxer in some regards than the UK. You should be able to claim Natasha and bring her home by April. The adoption agency has agreed to waive the welfare check given Wammy House’s glittering reputation so that will save us even more time.”

“Good,” Light nods, “I sense a but?”

“No, nothing major,” Mikami promises. “But the orphanage where Natasha is currently housed have notified us she had a younger brother, Jonathon, eighteen months. They were wondering if you were interested in taking both children? Apparently they’re quite attached.”

“Of course not,” Light chuckles. “That would be absurd.”

Mikami pauses, glancing up from the paper.

“Our interest is with Natasha and her demonstrated intellect. The brother is a toddler, he won’t remember her in six months and without an older child he’s more likely to get adopted by some civilians anyway.”

“And if Natasha is distressed?” Mikami volunteers cautiously.

“She’s four. She’ll adjust. Especially in an environment where she can thrive.”

“Is that usually the case?”

“Oh yes,” Light nods. “We separate children frequently. We have limited spaced after all. But the selected children are rarely if ever negatively impacted in the long run.”

“Might I ask a simple question, so I can better assist you moving forward Light?” Mikami replies.

“Hmm?”

“Is it not, financially, worth taking the risk that both children will be gifted?”

“Genetics are fickle and even children within the same bloodline rarely both meet our standards.” Light shrugs. “Not a bad question though. We must sound like a meat market.”

“You’re an institution. You have standards.” Mikami shrugs. “I just want to make sure your standards are always met to your satisfaction.”

Okay, sure, this one’s growing on Light.

He says all the right things.

“Shall we move on?” Mikami checks.

“Yes, please.” Light invites.

“I trust you’ve reviewed the prenup I sent over. Mister Quillish and Mister Lawliet have a variety of conditions and contingencies. What did you think?”

“Most of it I agree with,” Light concedes. “This is being done, primarily, in case of emergencies and to sure up the estate regarding our inheritances. That said I want to rewrite a few of your more standard clauses.”

“Please,” Mikami pulls over his keyboard, “I’ll make some notes. We’ll send them to the other parties to review. What areas in particular would you like to amend?”

“I want to strike the infidelity clause. First and foremost.” Light deadpans, straight to the point. “It’s not relevant in our situation and if anything it’s impractical.”

“Understood,” Mikami nods, taking note. 

“And we can’t establish custody in a prenup, can we?”

“No Sir, it’s outside the scope of a prenuptial agreement.” Mikami nods. “Given your current situation you are listed as the defacto legal guardian and next of kin, in the event of Mister Quillish’s death, for all but two children currently under the protection of the House.”

“Good.” Light nods. “The will hasn’t been updated?”

“Not since the changes we discussed in February.”

“I want clause added regarding slander,” Light continues.

“How so?” Mikami prompts, typing.

“If Mister Lawliet takes any steps to damage my reputation, connections, etcetera and I have any kind of written or audio proof of that… Well, I want that to be valid grounds for divorce.”

“I’ll hash out the particulars for that, wording and such,” Mikami reassures.

“I want a second clause added that if Mister Lawliet invades my privacy through any kind of investigation or otherwise then that is also grounds for immediate divorce.”

Mikami nods, typing quickly. 

“I want it expressed to Mister Lawliet that if he cannot agree to my amendments then we don’t have an agreement. I am unwilling to budge on these points.”

“I’ll make that perfectly clear,” Mikami agrees. “Anything else you’d like to discuss in regards to the prenup, Light?”

“No, I don’t believe so.”

“Then is there anything else I can do for you today?” Mikami stresses, turning away from his computer.

Light considers this.

Light considers Mikami’s fine suit and his dark eyes.

“I think I’d like your phone number.” Light pops his lips, just so.

“Sir…?” Mikami hesitates.

“I know a couple of nice restaurants and I come to London regularly.” Light smirks softly.

“I—” Mikami colours. “Just a second, Sir. I’ll get you my private number.”

Chapter Text

“Okay so, a wizard comes to you, an evil wizard.”

“An evil wizard?” Light scoffs.

“Yep and he’s just the worst,” Ryuk repeats over their voice chat. “So the evil wizard says to you—”

“What does he say?” Light drawls, already amused.

“He says; I’m going to take your dick or all your money! Choose now!” Ryuk makes sure to accentuate this with a ludicrous voice. “What do you do rich kid? Think fast!”

“He can take my money, obviously,” Light snorts, eyes rolling. “I can always make more money. I can’t grow a new dick.”

“No but you can buy some very fancy dicks,” Ryuk counters. “You seen some of these dicks? So fancy.”

“You should send me a link to the fanciest dick you can find.” Light tempts.

“Are you going to mail me a dick?” Ryuk grunts cautiously.

“No! Of course not!” Light lies through his teeth.

“Hold on, I’ll send you a link.” Ryuk cackles, obviously delighted.

Life has been relatively quiet for Light lately.

Natasha their newest recruit will be arriving April fifteenth with Bart, Matt is leaving for American in May, and Teru Mikami is a bit of a stick in the mud but he makes up for it by giving incredible head.

Light isn’t usually one for extended affairs. He finds attachments difficult to form and often he doesn’t see the point. He’s not saying he cares for Mikami but so far the sex is good enough that Light doesn’t mind coming back for the foreseeable future.

It’s certainly not Light’s first rodeo.

That said, if you asked Light what he really enjoyed the most, he would probably still answer a night in, playing games, and making dirty jokes with Ryuk. He doesn’t have to be anything fancy with Ryuk. He’s not elegant or intelligent or doting…

He’s just Kira.

And having a tiny, healthy, outlet for Kira is probably what keeps him from exploding these days. What did he do before he had these illicit chats and schemes with his partner in crime? Ryuk doesn’t even want anything. He doesn’t want sex or money. He just wants entertainment and mischief.

“Oh that is an ugly monster dick.” Light laughs, clicking through Ryuk’s link.

“It’s fucking hideous.” Ryuk grins. “Looks like my sister’s face.”

“She still dating that pop idol?”

“I have no idea how,” Ryuk snorts, “it’s like dead dog and a barbie doll got married. But, hey, so long as she’s over the pond in Japan she can’t judge me for my life choices.”

“Lord knows you don’t need anymore scrutiny on that front,” Light snickers.

“Amen!” Ryuk moans.

“I—” Light pauses, snatching up his phone beside the laptop on the desk. “Ryuk I’m going to have to go, family call.”

“Yeah, yeah, night ugly!”

“Night,” Light signs off the web call, answering his smartphone. “Hello?”

“Light…?”

“Near, is that you?” Light blinks, confused.

“Uh, yeah…” Near murmurs awkwardly.

“Hi kiddo,” Light replies patiently, brining up his laptop to check the time difference. It should only be five am in New York. “Are you alright?” Light finds himself asking.

“Well…” Near hesitates again, audibly sucking on the corner of his lip.

Light frowns, listening to the silence for a moment.

“Near,” he starts gently, “if you need me for something you have to tell me. I can’t read your mind very well across the phone.”

Near makes a noise, obviously uncomfortable but likewise seemingly desperate to speak on the matter that’s bothering him.

“Light, can…?” Near takes a deep breath. “Can I come home?”

Light freezes, stupefied.

“What?” He repeats indelicately.

“I don’t like it here.” Near blurts. “There are so many people, at all hours of the day and night, and I can’t… This case is difficult. I don’t feel like I’m contributing anything useful.”

“It’s your first case, Near,” Lights soothes. “You don’t have to be perfect right now. You just have to do what Watari and L ask of you.”

“I know,” Near sighs. “But I don’t like it. I feel uncomfortable.”

Light is surprised.

Near’s always found social situations difficult but his deductive skills are unparalleled for someone his age. Watari asked Light specifically to prepare Near for life with L, life as a detective. Light did that and, if they push, Near will likely be a great detective. Right…?

“Near, if you come home,” Light warns, “L might not let your work with him again, you understand that, right?”

“I know,” Near murmurs, sounding his age in the most painful way possible.

Is Near really not ready?

Or is this the wrong box for him?

What should Light do…?

Watari asked for Near specifically, years ago. They’re been preparing for this reality the whole time but now—

Light digests a powerful, disgustingly emotional, thought. A thought he shouldn’t be entertaining but fuck L and fuck Watari.

Light is done playing this game.

“Near of course you can come home,” Light switches tangents abruptly, pouring his most maternal sympathies into his voice. “If you’re not happy, you’re not happy.”

“You’re not disappointed…?” Near whispers.

“Absolutely not,” Light promises. “This just isn’t the right fit for you. That’s okay. You’re only fifteen. We can find you a perfect place. But it’s sound like, right now, you need to come home. Do you want to come home?”

“Yes, please.” Near strains. “I just—I’m afraid of catching the flight back alone and—”

“I’ll come get you if I have to.” Light swears.

“Really?” Near sounds surprised.

“Yes, of course,” Light reassures gently.

“Thank you Light,” Near murmurs, very small at once.

“Near,” Light directs. “I want you to hold on for a few days and do as L and Watari instruct. I’m going to call them right now and explain the situation but it might be a little while before we can secure you a flight home. Do you understand?”

“Yes, I understand Light,” Near nods along. “I’ll do my best.”

“Good, are you going to be okay if I hang up?” Light supposes.

“Yes, I…” Near hesitates. “I feel much better now.”

“I’ll talk to you soon Near.”

“Thanks again, Light, I didn’t know who else to talk to, but I didn’t want you to be disappointed…” Near confesses.

“You have nothing to worry about, Near,” Light assures, “my priority is finding you the perfect placement. My priority is not making L or Watari happy.”

Light feels more certain of his decision as he says those words.

His priority is not making L or Watari happy. 

His priority is the kids. 

Light gently disconnects from Near and takes a deep breath.

This will not be an easy phone call.

But, like he said to Near, he is the head of Wammy House right now and his priority is finding a perfect placement for Near not curtailing him into something for Watari’s convenience.

Light clicks through his contacts to L’s private cell number.

L answers within two rings.

“Light?” He grunts around a spoon.

It’s five am in New York, early for most people, but L rarely sleeps the whole night through so he’s probably having an early breakfast pastry.

“We need to talk business,” Light informs curtly. “Can you stop what you’re doing for twenty minutes?”

“Yes, of course,” L audibly focuses. “What’s wrong?”

“I’m taking Near back,” Light announces.

“Oh?” L snorts.

“Yes.” Light replies, leaving no room for debate.

“Since when is that your decisions?” L supposes. “I thought he was my problem now?”

“He called me and he’s unhappy.” Light reveals, holding his ground. “He wants to come home. He knows what that means and how that effects his apprenticeship with you and he still wants to come home. So I’m bringing him home.”

“Well if Near doesn’t want to be here, I don’t much care,” L confesses. “That said Watari has a vested interest in the matter and he is Near’s primary legal guardian, technically. What should I tell him?”

“Near is fifteen and he’s expressed that he doesn’t want to be involved in a criminal investigation.” Light replies sternly. “I will argue that point with any judge Watari wants to take this in front of, should it come to that, but Watari should be sensible enough to trust my judgement.”

“Your judgement?” L repeats.

“You’re the detective,” Light nods, “I run the House and oversee our assets. Watari gave me that position because I know what’s best for the children and our interests. He needs to trust me now when I say that Near is not a good fit for your apprentice.”

“He seems to think otherwise.” L murmurs, tiptoeing a certain tone.

“Then he’s wrong,” Light asserts firmly.

L laughs.

Light hesitates, just for a second.

“I think you’re right, Light,” L replies suddenly. “I’ll support your decision on this. Whatever Watari may think I agree with your assessment. I’ve been developing the same theory myself.”

Light feels his shoulders ease ever so slightly. 

“Should I expect you out here soon?” L supposes.

“I’ll be catching the next flight to New York to bring Near home.” Light nods. “Please try and explain the situation to Watari before I arrive.”

“Of course,” L snorts amusedly, “if you send me your flight details I’ll have an assistant drive to pick you up and bring you here to site.”

It takes twelve hours to organize the House for Light’s short absence and then a further twelve hours, counting customs and immigration, to fly to New York.

Light is tried and irritable when he lands but he’s prepared for any argument that might await him in L’s lavish offices.

“Mister Yagami?” A rather attractive American woman greets him. “L sent me,” she introduces, offering her hand. “My name’s Naomi Misora.”

“Hello, please call me Light,” he greets. “After everything L’s told me about you I feel like we’re already friends.”

“Well that’s something because L never tells me anything about his people,” Naomi jokes amicably. “Did you bring much luggage?”

“Not much,” Light assures. “I don’t intend to be here long.”

“Well let’s get you to the carousel and then we can head back to the office. You must be tired.”

“I doubt L will let me rest but yes,” Light snorts.

Naomi laughs her agreement; “sounds like L alright.”

In the car, with his luggage loaded in the back, Naomi confesses;

“I don’t know what you flew all this way out for but I’m assuming it’s a personal matter?”

“What makes you say that?” Light asks.

“Well L’s been locked up with Watari for a while now, I think I heard him shouting even,” Naomi confesses. “I try not to eavesdrop but when your ex-FBI it comes naturally.”

“And what did you hear?” Light tempts.

“This is about the kids, right?” Naomi supposes. “Near maybe? He’s a nice kid but he’s seemed really reserved since he got here.”

“And how’s Mello doing?” Light digs a little without answering the question.

“Kid’s personable and he’ll do whatever you ask him to do without complaining,” Naomi chuckles. “He’s got a real way of lightening the mood too. The guys on the case already love him. He’s like their little mascot.”

Light snorts. “Sounds like he’s really coming into his own.”

“So should I get ready for a screaming match?” Naomi makes her own leading question evident as charming and casual as her face is.

“If I were you, agent Misora, I’d start selling tickets.” Light winks but he’s not joking.

Chapter Text

L’s working office in New York is quite an ominous building with formidable security but, then again, L does make incredible money. Light folds his jacket over his arm and let’s Naomi escort him up the elevator towards L’s private sanctum.

They pass through a rather large HQ with two other detectives and both of the Wammy kids.

“Light!” Mello cheers, bounding up to give him a hug.

“Hey Mello,” Light catches him. “You look so bright, I’m glad.”

“It’s good to see you,” Mello beams.

“You too,” Light smiles, “and Near too.” He assures, glancing to the other boy stewing over his computer.

“Hey,” Near grunts, obviously a little shyer with company.

“I can’t wait to talk to you both,” Light declares, “but I think I have to deal with business first. So I should probably go talk to Watari and L.”

“They’ve been all locked up,” Mello murmurs conspiratorially. “We’re not in trouble, are we?”

“Absolutely not,” Light promises, tapping his nose. “Just leave it to me. Things will be back to normal in no time.”

“Got it,” Mello nods eagerly, utterly trusting.

It makes sense, really, for much of Mello’s life there hasn’t been a single problem ultra-genius Light couldn’t solve for him or Near or really any of the kids.

Light hands Mello his jacket, ruffling the blonde’s hair one last time, and slips off to the ominously secured office. He knocks with the back of his knuckles, curt and brisk, and L’s voice sounds out;

“Come in!”

Light makes sure to lock the door behind himself as he enters.

Watari and L have those faces like they’ve been arguing for a while.

“Light,” Watari starts sternly, “please explain this situation to me.”

“Near is unhappy. He’s not a good fit for his operation.” Light comes, elegantly, to sink into a seat beside L. “I’m going to take him back to London and find a better placement for him.”

“You don’t think Near can adjust? Teething pains and such?” Watari frowns.

“I don’t think Near is suited to work that involves a high level of emotional understanding and socialization.” Light folds his hands primly in his lap.

“You’ve trained Near for this.”

“At your request,” Light reminds. “But I don’t think Near is a good fit.”

“He’s also too young to know what’s best for him.” Watari counters.

“And, with all due respect Watari, you’re not the expert on Near, I am.” Light replies firmly. “Likewise, Near is a child not a machine. He can be cultivated, he cannot be programmed to take on the role you think would be most convenient.”

“Tell us what you really think, Light,” L snorts amusedly.

“If you’re not going to contribute constructively, L, I don’t want to hear it.” Light warns.

 L holds his hands up placatingly.

“You’re saying I should trust your judgement?” Watari supposes to Light candidly.

“Are you saying you don’t?” Light replies.

“Near has all the right qualities. We—”

“On paper.” Light stresses.

“Light,” Watari sighs in that condescendingly paternal way of his, “I know you don’t want a repeat of the Beyond and Able situation but—”

“And I know you think L is the epitome of success,” Light cuts him off. “But there is more than one way to achieve greatness, Watari. You can’t just clone L endlessly. He’s not one of your patents.”

Watari pauses, expression strangely pained.

Light hates that expression.

He hates causing it.

As a child he always seemed to disappoint Watari in the worst, most difficult ways. Intellectually he always excelled but emotionally he was always too difficult. It’s hard to embrace that now when Watari’s expression causes a twist in Light’s gut instinctually.

“L and I are the most proficient graduates, yes?” Light reminds.

“Yes, of course,” Watari agrees.

“Then I would advise you trust our judgement.” Light stresses.

Watari digests that.

“I just want the best for everyone, for the House, for the children, for you two.” Watari murmurs.

“We know Watari,” L assures.

“Leave it to us, Watari,” Light softens theatrically. “We’ll take care of this.”

Watari sighs, slipping off his glasses to clean them. “You’re right.” He relents. “I’m being too intransient. I gave you the resources to reach your full potential and you are, both, much smarter than I am. I need to not treat you as children. I apologize.”

Light eases softly.

Thank fuck.

“Then it’s agreed,” L clarifies. “Light will take Near back and Mello will stay here.”

Watari nods.

“I should organize a flight,” Light sighs, sagging back in his seat. “I’ll have Near pack his things and we’ll move to a hotel. You must be busy with your investigation, of course, so I’ll get out of your hair ASAP.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” L grunts suddenly.

Light stiffens.

“You don’t need a hotel, we have plenty of space here at the office,” L grumbles around the rim of his coffee. “Besides, while you’re here I’d love your opinion on the case.”

“I couldn’t.” Light dismisses automatically. “I need to get back to the House.”

“You’ve already been gone fifteen hours, what’s another forty-eight?” L argues. “I just need your consult. It won’t take long to review the case and there won’t be another flight today anyway.”

Light frowns.

Damn it.

L is always so fickle.

He cooperates with Light’s interests only when it suits him and then immediately pursues his own. Still… It’s not so bad, Light reasons. He does want a good night’s sleep to settle himself again from the international flight. It would be nice not to immediately get on a plane again. Rodger is prepared to be without him for three or four days if necessary anyway.

“Fine,” Light surrenders an inch, “I’ll book a flight in the next two days. Until we have to leave for the airport, I’m sure I can assist you a little. But I’m not guaranteeing I’ll stay until the case is solved or anything like that.”

“Of course,” Watari nods.

L frowns but doesn’t argue this point.

Mello is understandably conflicted about Near’s decision when Light explains it to him. Light can see, like a good sibling, Mello is worried about Near and his first questions are rooted in concern but, slowly, Light catches a glimpse of Mello’s relief peaking through. It’s only natural. They’ve been competing and the idea that he might be winning this fight is appealing to Mello. Light doesn’t begrudge Mello that instinct. Light did raise the boys to be competitive, to strive.

Mello helps Near pack while Light reviews the case file and gets up to date with Naomi Misora and L. The case is complicated. A group of executives from three large companies who seem to have joined forces on an illicit venture to traffic young Latino women into domestic and sexual slavery in the USA.

“It’s awful stuff, makes me sick to my stomach,” Naomi grunts.

“I can see where they got the idea,” Light rues, “it is cost effective.”

Naomi blinks, clearly taken aback.

“I don’t support anything like this, of course,” Light smiles, “but this is the kind of cost cutting, lazy, thinking of corporate men.”

“Yeah,” Naomi murmurs.

Light pulls up his laptop and gets to work.

“What do you need L?” He asks, outright.

“A hack into their personal network would be useful,” L starts his list of demands, climbing into the desk chair next to Light by physically shooing Detective Jamison out of it.

Light snorts.

L watches him so keenly, so excited.

“It’ll be a few minutes.” Light warns.

“Don’t mind me.” L grins into his knuckles, watching Light unwaveringly.

Light sighs.

“Can I ask a question, Mister Yagami?” Jamison speaks up.

“Go ahead,” Light invites.

“Have you known L for a long time?”

“We grew up together,” Light replies.

“Ha! Really?” Jamison barks. “What was L like as a kid?”

“A little less insufferable than he is now, actually,” Light answers.

“Focus on hacking.” L grunts.

Light taps away. His fingers have always felt more comfortable on a computer keyboard than on those piano keys Watari tried to get him to pick up as a child. He and L were both alike in that way. As children they could spend hours churning through pieces of tech, very physically, before tumbling into the different layers of online sediment. Light was on black market dark web forums before most kids his age even had a facebook page. L used to thrill in playing the stock market and Light, to an extent, has dabbled in the same region but his passion has always been hacking and the dancing that comes with that.

The cold, elegant, machine has always felt like an extension of his mind and body.

“There.” Light clicks one final time. “We’re in.”

L smirks widely and, behind his shoulder Naomi whistles, “well fuck, he made that look easy!” 

“Light is very good at this,” L nods.

“Copying their data now.” Light announces.

“Can you do something else for me Light?” L asks.

“Depends what you want,” Light warns.

“I want you to install two pieces of spyware.” L smirks, grin infectious and wicked. “One they’ll find and one they won’t.”

Light snorts. “You want to give them a panic attack?”

“I think we’ll move closer to apprehending them when we apply a little unspecified pressure.” L shrugs, still evidently excited by the prospect.

“Give me ten minutes to rig that,” Light replies, vaguely amused.

“Take your time,” L encourages.

“I didn’t realize you were always this mischievous during your cases?” Light hums.

“You bring out the best in me,” L shrugs.

“I wouldn’t say that,” Light tuts. “I wouldn’t say that at all.”

Once they have the data copied it’s a lot to go through. Both the boys head to bed around eleven, the two male detectives head home at midnight, Watari stays till one am, Naomi finally taps out at two am and, by three am, it’s just L and Light in the main office tapping away at their keyboards.

“So much for sleeping off your jet lag.” L hums.

“I’ll still get more sleep than you will.” Light dismisses lazily.

“And so much for your minimalist approach to assisting me.” L smirks.

“I hate leaving a job unfinished, you know this,” Light grumbles. “I know you’re using that against me but I am not staying until this case is finished. I’ll review the hack data but that’s it. I have a life, one that doesn’t revolve around you.”

L scoffs.

“Poor Watari might be—” Light starts an insult but L cuts him off.

“I always think it’s a disgrace your life doesn’t revolve around me.” He sighs petulantly. “I want you to revolve around me.”

“You want everyone to pay you attention, you’re a spoilt brat like that,” Light huffs, shaking off the implication.

But L won’t drop the implication.

“No, I think I would be satisfied if I had your full attention.” L murmurs, gaze pointed though Light refuses to turn into it and acknowledge it.

“Well keep dreaming,” Light dismisses, trying to laugh.

“Would it really be so bad?” L tilts his head in the corner of Light’s vision. “To be part of my world?”

“I don’t want to be your sidekick, L,” Light grunts, letting his tone become fractionally more sober with the honesty.

“You’re no one’s side kick,” L murmurs, like he’s surprised Light would consider using such a term. “Couldn’t we both be main characters? Partners?”

“There’s always a protagonist.” Light grunts. “Unless you want me to be the antagonist?”

“You can have two leads,” L argues, “in a romance for example.”

Light laughs, sharp and rude. “Well, when this becomes a romantic comedy, let me know, yeah?”

“Via Text or email?” L seems to tease in that deadpan of his.

“In that event you should definitely call me.” Light snorts.

“About the prenup—”

“God, L, it’s three am,” Light moans. “Can we not talk about the prenup right now?”

“You moved the conversation into an adjacent file. It’s only natural I should ask.” L argues.

“Fine, what about it?” Light sighs.

“Your additions,” L prefaces, “do you really think I’d investigate you?”

“I think you’d investigate all sorts of parts of my life, not necessarily me,” Light shrugs. “You don’t always understand privacy and appropriate boundaries.”

“I suppose that’s true…” L relents, tapping his chin. “But it’s not like you need to keep secrets from me.” 

“Maybe I want to?” Light counters.

“You don’t trust me?” L deadpans.

“It’s not about trust,” Light sighs.

“Hmm,” clearly L doesn’t understand.

Light really needs to sleep, doesn’t he? And it seems like the night is devolving.

“Speaking of the prenup,” L shifts in his seat gently, “did you have a date in mind?”

To get married.

Lord it sounds so ridiculous sometimes.

“I still haven’t decided,” Light diverts.

“You laid out your conditions, I agreed to them,” L replies, still obviously a little baffled. “What more do you need to consider?”

“Well right now I need to sleep,” Light sighs, snapping his laptop shut.

L watches him stand up, eyes sharp.

Light isn’t discussing this right now.

“Goodnight L.” He shuts down the conversation.

“Goodnight Light.” L accepts, for now.

Chapter Text

There’s a lot of data to review and it is genuinely fascinating. That said Light is aware he’s sinking into a trap and he’ll be damned if he lets that happen. L is so focused on his work that he barely notices Light slipping away from his station to help get Near suited up in his jacket and roll out their luggage.

“Light, I need you to—” L pivots in his seat, seemingly finally noticing their motions. “What’re you doing?”

“Our flight leaves in a few hours,” Light replies, returning to his station to close up his laptop. “We have to go.”

“We’re not done.” L grunts, gesturing to the piles of mess.

“You’re not done,” Light corrects, “I’m not a detective on this case.”

“You’re consulting.” L counters.

“I did some hacking. You have the files and the spyware.” Light sighs. “I told you this morning we had to leave at three.”

“I don’t recall that,” L huffs petulantly.

“Call me if you need anything Mello,” Light instructs over L’s head, “you too Watari.”

L grumbles. “Light—”

“Pleasure meeting you detectives,” Light waves to Agent Misora and the others.

“Light—”

“Good luck L.” Light brushes him off.

“Light,” L snaps.

The detectives freeze, Mello tenses, but L doesn’t explicitly raise his voice so much as tense it.

“What?” Light snaps back, overtly threatening in his tone.

Everyone looks nervous but Naomi, for her part, looks intrigued to hear someone bite back at L with so much force.

L grips his calves tightly, knees against his chest, and his expression is passionate, stern, heavy but all at once L eases back, heat never fading, and grunts out tersely:

“Have a nice flight.”

Light blinks, surprised.

He can taste L’s frustration, still present, but the detective is backing down?

Light nods, twisting around to grab Near’s hand and start escorting him out of the building.

“I’m sorry if I made things difficult,” Near murmurs in the elevator, playing with his hair with one hand while the other grips Light’s fingers tightly.

“Not at all Near,” Light promises with a coy smile.

L’s not done.

That was not a surrender.

This isn’t over.

Light prepares himself for retribution.

Overall the trip to New York went well. Light retrieved Near without a huge brawl, he didn’t get trapped up in L’s case, there’s no competition to succeed L anymore wiping out the terror of repeating the Beyond/Able disaster…

Light can, finally, focus on getting back to work.

Matt is leaving for MIT in less than a month, Near is back in Light’s care and, this afternoon, Natasha, their latest recruit, will be getting off the plane from Bulgaria to come home to Wammy House.

Light has taken the morning in London.

He told Rodger he had some business to attend to while he waited for Bart’s return flight with their latest asset/orphan but honestly?

Well…

Light sprawls back, picking up his phone from the bedside, and starts scrolling through a few of his apps absently. Emails, his stocks, texts… His eyes flicker across a thousand pixels.

He pauses, gripping his phone a little tighter, eyes squeezing shut for just a moment as his cock hits the back of Mikami’s throat. Fuck, he’s good at that.

“Hm,” he stifles the moan, but that always seems to make Mikami work harder.

 Mikami slurps adoringly and Light’s eyes cross for a split second.

Yeah, high achievers are delightful fuck toys.

Mikami’s complete enthusiasm towards being humiliated and objectified also makes him quite a perfect fit for Light’s crueller impulses. He wants a slave, in some capacity, someone he doesn’t have to be nice to. He’s never found a way to be ‘Light’ when he fucks. It’s always Kira.

Some days he’s all Kira all the way down.

Light’s phone starts to buzz in his hand. Mikami sinks down, the back of his throat flexing and spasming against the head of Light’s cock. Light glances at his screen, half breathless.

Lawliet.

Should he?

L might still be angry.

The phone keeps buzzing and Mikami starts, cautiously, to pull back.

Light does two things at once.

With one hand he fists Mikami’s hair and presses him back down on his cock and, with the other, he accepts the call.

“Hello?” He grunts.

“Hey,” L replies, typing audibly in the background. “You’re not at the House?”

“In London,” Light stifles a groan in the natural pause as Mikami panics around his cock for a second, “I’m picking up the newest asset today. Why? What were you calling about?”

“I wanted to talk about the other day.” L states lazily.

“What—” Light tries to keep his voice clear as Mikami adjusts to the idea and starts, with some enthusiasm, to resume his work. “—do you mean? When I left?”

“Yes,” L grunts. “In New York.”

“It’s fine L, honestly,” Light dismisses.

“I wasn’t calling to apologize.” L assures.

Light scoffs but it sounds a tad breathless even by his standards.

“We solved the case,” L announces, “your data was very helpful.”

“I’m—” Light hiccups over a teeth tightened hiss. “I’m glad.”

“Are you…?” L pauses.

“Am I what?” Light challenges, trying not to make his smirk audible especially when Mikami freezes in fear and Light bucks up into his mouth.

“Where are you exactly?” L counters abruptly.

“Just meeting with a friend in London while I wait for the flight,” Light tries to catch his breath. “We’re having a drink at their apartment.”

“You have friends?” L prods.

“No one you know,” Light grins wickedly.

L is very quiet for a moment and Light has to bite his lip to contain the sounds trying to bubble out of him from every angle. Who knew antagonizing L like this would get him hard?

“Did you need something in particular, L?” Light almost pants, rocking into Mikami’s mouth a little more urgently.

“I just wanted to let you know I’m flying back to London this week.” L announces suddenly, tone fierce.

“What for?” Light snorts.

“Goodbye Light.” L grunts curtly.

“Bye,” Light laughs cheekily, smirk audible.

He’s not even sure he’s pressed the end call button correctly when he arches up into Mikami’s mouth and cums with a delighted purr, legs kicking out, head back.

Light really needs to stop picking fights.

Is he going to regret this…?

Light meets Bart at the airport with Natasha. The girl is very small, even for four, but her eyes have the same razor sharp clarity of all their fresh assets; too intelligent, but scared. Light drops to her level, hands on his knees, and greets her warmly.

“Hello Viola,” he smiles.

“My name’s Natasha.” The little girl warbles in hyper-clear English.

“It’s a gift,” Light explains. “New country, new home, new life, new name.”

That’s their policy.

No previous history, only life at the House counts.

From now on? Natasha doesn’t exist.

“Oh…” the little girl hesitates, visibly unsure.

“It’s alright,” Light promises, “we all get new names at Wammy House. I got one when I was little too, I’m Light.”

“You were adopted?” She strings together.

“Ahuh.” Light nods. “Just like you.”

“Where from?” Viola tilts her head cautious and curious.

“Japan,” Light reveals. “I was four too,” he explains holding up his fingers. “But you must be really tired. You ready to go home?”

“I think…?” Viola teeters.

“Can I pick you up?” Light offers his hands. “It’s a long walk to the car.”

“Okay,” Viola grunts, reaching out for him with her chubby little fingers.

He swoops her up, propping her on his hip. She’s quiet but her eyes track all the splendour of Heathrow airport as they head out towards parking. She’s obviously a little overwhelmed. They don’t need to stop at baggage claim; Bart took only an overnight bag and Viola has not been permitted to bring anything but her documents. Clothes, comfort items… All that can be supplied at the House.

It sounds cruel because it is.

The first few days, weeks, at Wammy House are all about snapping away previous attachments. The children, usually very small and inherently vulnerable, are forced to surrender everything. They become a new person with a new name and new family. Holding onto their past self and any loyalties inherent there becomes exceedingly difficult with the slow crunch of time.

It’s all strategic.

Assets can’t have ulterior goals. They have to take on the goals the House gives them. L endured the same, Light endured the same, and it’s a sacred tradition all the children partake in. Matt, Near, all the kids at the House right now will only use Viola’s new name even if she tells them her old one. They’ve been taught to brush it off. To see this discomfort as teething. Natural.

Light sits in the back seat with Viola and keeps her engaged.

He points out tourist attractions as they drive past, he starts conversations with her…

He very pointedly avoids or diffuses all attempts to discuss her previous life. The orphanage in Bulgaria? No. Her parents? No. The stuff toy she couldn’t bring? No.

But he does engage with her special interests; the areas wherein she has exhibited the startling intellect necessary to warrant a place at Wammy. Her proficiency for languages at a young age, her natural, unrefined, skill with music…

Viola lights up discussing her interested with an engaged adult and it does start to relax her as they drive out to the estate. Still she’s tried and too overwhelmed to meet all twenty-nine of the other children in House yet.

Light has a quiet, small, dinner with Viola in the kitchens as Matilda wipes them down for the night and then, little girl puffed up with a full belly, Light takes her to her new room to get settled.

“I don’t have pyjamas…” Viola murmurs meekly as Light sits her on the bed.

“Of course you do,” he smiles, pulling a brand new set out of the drawers. “See?”

Viola blinks.

Very soon she’ll enter that stage where Wammy stops being scary and starts feeling like a fairy tale. Then, eventually, even that will pass.

“We’re going to take care of you,” Light promises. “Would you like help getting changed?”

Viola nods weakly.

Business-like, practiced, Light helps her change and starts to tuck her into bed.

“Light…?” Viola murmurs.

“Yes Honey?” Light responds openly.

“Can John come here too?” She blurts.

Her little brother.

“The lady, back home, said he wasn’t allowed but—”

“Jonathon has a different home who need him,” Light lies fluidly. “But we need you here. This is your home. Jonathon will be okay, okay?”

“But…” Viola warbles, smart but still too small to totally articulate herself.

“This is all kind of scary and confusing, isn’t it?” Light invites gently.

Viola nods, fast and open.

“I was scared my first night here,” Light lies. “You know, I had a little sister, like you had a little brother.”

The past tense is subtle but pointed.

And, yes, that part is true.

Light did have a baby sister.

“What happened to her?” Viola murmurs desperately.

“She got adopted by a wonderful Japanese family,” Light smiles, “and I got to have a fantastic life here at the House. It was the best thing for both of us. I was scared back then but all the adults were looking out for us.”

Viola seems to try and process that but asking her to surrender her only family is daunting and unnatural.

It’s a process they force.

“You just need to trust us, okay?” Light encourages. “We’re looking out for what’s best for you and him.”

“I miss him.” Viola mumbles. “Do you think he misses me?”

Light smiles kindly. “Don’t worry Sweetie, he won’t miss you.”

It’s an awful thing to say, on one level, but the delivery, the confidence of an adult, is what makes the child doubt herself. She’s being strange for being upset. She’s being greedy and unreasonable. Never mind Light is gaslighting her. This is her new normal and they will coddle and pamper her but this is the price she has to pay and it’s steep.

“Time to sleep, Viola,” Light tucks her in, “big, exciting, day for us all tomorrow.”

He turns on the little night light mounted to the wall and shuffles, calmly, out of her room.

He knows she’s going to cry herself to sleep.

Most of them do.

Even the ones who have been in abusive conditions still find the shell shock too much to handle on their first night. She’ll be a zombie for a few days but then, slowly, her brain will start cooperating to protect itself.

Ryuk has asked Light about the intake process once.

Do you ever feel guilty?

No, Light honestly doesn’t. It’s probably some of the most tangible proof he has that he’s a bad person. He doesn’t feel sympathy and empathy like he should. Not even for the children in his care. All he cares about is how they can service his big picture.

Were you upset when it happened to you?

Light doesn’t remember it very well, honestly, but he knows he was emotionally unnatural before he arrived at the House.

Do you ever miss your sister?

No, never. She wasn’t like him. She wasn’t equal. He doesn’t need her, and she serves no purpose in his current life. She can’t offer him anything tangible, so he doesn’t spare her much of a thought. She’s just an idea he uses to soothe the new assets.

She’d be sixteen now.

One day, when she’s eighteen, Light wonders if she’ll try and find him?

Sometimes family gets curious and tries that.

Sometimes they take younger siblings from a group and the elder siblings search desperately for them. But Wammy House makes that difficult for outsiders and rarely does the search develop any kind of long term connection.

Eden, one of the other graduates, told Light she had lunch with her biological older brother once. But it felt strange and jilted. He was too average to keep up with her and she was not what he remembered or had dreamt up. It wasn’t sustainable.

Light doesn’t really want to see his sister.

He doesn’t think so anyway.

Or is that just the House speaking for him…?

Chapter Text

Light has to come up with a new plan and they don’t have much time. The question that haunts him, that itches him awake at night, is this;

What are they going to do with Near?

Near is exceptionally intelligent and he is on the brink of realizing his full potential, that remains the fact regardless of the false start with L, but what are they going to do with him? Where will he be useful?

Near has become more attached to Light since their New York incident. Near has always been well behaved and leant on Light but there seems to be a new level of trust emblazoned in the teenager now that he’s tested Light by being difficult and Light has, seemingly, come to bat for him against all odds. Near feels safer with Light and he wants to make Light happy, more so than ever.

It’s a useful fact.

“So,” Light sits next to Near on the boy’s bed, his laptop on his thighs. “We’ve got to start thinking. What are we going to do with you?”

Light wants to be frank.

“I’m not sure what I want,” Near confesses, twirling his hair lazily. “I was always getting ready to work with L. I haven’t given what I want much examination.”

“Well,” Light taps away, bringing a sanitized version of Near’s profile in his personal records. “We know your social skills are pretty low. So something where you don’t have to deal with a lot of people is something we should consider.”

“Right,” Near hums, leaning over Light’s shoulder.

“Well, what do you enjoy?” Light encourages. “I know you like puzzles and devices. And there’s certainly an industry around design, manufacture and engineering. We can extend out like that.”

“I like to fidget but I don’t think I’d like designing,” Near puzzles out. “I like problem solving.”

“What else?” Light presses.

“I always liked forensics, in my detective training,” Near admits. “I held myself back from pursuing more information because it was starting to bite into my necessary training.”

“Why don’t we open that box?” Light suggests. “You’re taken basic high school chemistry and you enjoyed that a lot if I remember correctly?”

“I did,” Near admits, more to himself than anything.

“Why don’t we enrol you in some university level chemistry courses?” Light continues. “We can start with remote learning but if you like it we can move you closer to a university campus. From there you could pursue whatever speciality catches your interest.”

“I think I’d like that,” Near smiles, something simmering inside him.

There seems to be a relief in Near lately that is almost tangible.

“You seem much happier now, Near,” Light admits. “Were you dreading being a detective that badly?”

“I didn’t hate the theory,” Near shrugs, “and I didn’t want to complain or let anyone down.”

“Well let’s put you back on track towards something you will love.” Light winks. “Deal?”

Near smiles wider than Light’s seen him in years.

“Let’s have a look,” Light twists his laptop towards Near, “we can find a course you’re comfortable with.”

Near leans over his lap and—

“Light?” Rodger sticks his head in Near’s open bedroom door.

“Hmm?” Light glances, impatient.

He hates being interrupted.

This better be important.

“L, Watari and Mello are downstairs.” Rodger reveals.

“Already?” Light blurts.

He thought he’d have another few days before L came bashing down his door.

He thought Watari would talk him off the ledge or L would become distracted with another case.

Damn it.

Light sighs, forcing a smile. “We should go say hi, don’t you think Near?”

Near nods amicably.

“We’ll finish this later,” Light promises.

Tucking up his laptop Light let’s Near head downstairs so he can stash his tech in his office. Adjusting his shirt Light prepares himself.

This could be messy.

But what else is new?

Light joins everyone in the main foyer. Matt, Mello and Near are all over each other, clearly delighted to be reunited, and while Watari endears himself to new asset Viola on his hip Light is left to face the irritated beast.

L turns towards him, chin up.

“You might as well move back in if you’re going to visit this much.” Light teases casually.

“Want to go out?” L asks abruptly.

“Out…?” Light hesitates, taken back. “Out where?”

“Leave the kids and Watari here,” L grunts. “We’re still young men. When was the last time we got to hang out ourselves?”

“Don’t you want to sleep off your jet lag first?” Light supposes but he already knows the answer.

“I don’t sleep, remember?” L counters.

“I know,” Light sighs, amused but cautious. “Though I still don’t know if I should agree to this sudden idea,” he folds his arms, “clearly you have a scheme.”

“Clearly,” L doesn’t deny the fact.

“Well now I’m definitely not coming,” Light jokes.

Light loves fighting with L, he loves tormenting L, but when L is genuinely irritated and vengeful he’s a diabolical force and Light tends to avoid the heat of that wildfire until they’re back within games he can win.

L doesn’t seem to be willing to give him that option today.

“Come on, grab your coat,” L orders. “I’ll go pick a car.”

“The kids—”

“Watari,” L calls, “you’ve got everything under control?”

“Of course,” Watari smiles.

L turns to Light expectantly.

Light tries not to groan.

Light knows he’s got half an hour head start while they drive. So long as L has to sit in a standard position his ability to reason and therefore fight, argue, is reduced. Light needs to assert himself while the iron is hot on the drive into London.

“You know, L, I’m starting to wonder if maybe you got the wrong impression the other day on the phone.” Light chuckles amicably.

“And what idea is that?” L grunts.

“That I was doing something untoward,” Light tuts. “Looking back I can see why you might think that. It’s kind of embarrassing really. I didn’t realize until later but—”

“Light, I’ve known you since you were four years old.” L drawls. “You know the affable social chameleon act doesn’t work on me by now.”

Light withers.

Damn it.

“It was just a joke,” Light sighs, slumping lower in his seat. “You’re not actually upset, are you? Honestly?”

“I didn’t think it was funny.” L replies levelly. “Besides, you wanted to get under my skin. That’s why you did it.”

“Maybe that was ill advised.” Light shrugs. “What do you want me to do about it?”

“I’d let you apologize, which you haven’t,” L pointed out, “but you’ve never truthfully apologized for anything in your life. It’s one of the things I like about you.”

Light snorts. “So where are we even going, huh?”

“A new place.” L answers vaguely. “It’s not far. You’ll see.”

Light sighs, glancing out over the ambling countryside around the Wammy Estate.

They don’t drive for long, maybe ten minutes? The road L takes them down with the assist of the GPS is old and unpaved. There are craggy trees everywhere, unkempt fields, and when they ease to a stop and L hops out of the car Light is more confused than ever.

Following L out of the car Light comes to stand beside him regarding a ruin. Well, not a ruin exactly. The British Isles have a lot of crumbling castles. Some of them ancient. But very few people have the time or money to restore or maintain them. This was obviously a very illustrious estate once with a vast overrun garden and multiple wings.

“What am I looking at?” Light grunts, hand on his hip.

“A project.” L answers. “I’ve bought it.”

Light snorts, confused.

“I don’t know what I was expecting…” he admits. “Why did you buy a castle?”

“I want somewhere new to work. Not Wammy’s, my own place, but I want to be close to Wammy’s so I can still visit it every day or every other day while I consult on cases remotely for a while.”

Light frowns. “Why would you do that?”

“Maybe I’m homesick?” L suggests.

L lies.

“Don’t be stupid.” Light grumbles. “It’s a money pit.”

“Come have a look, it’s not so bad inside.” L beckons.

Groaning, irritated, Light trails after him.

Inside the damaged building, or however much of the building remains in one piece, Light swears. It is beautiful, he can’t deny that, but he’s not going to tell L that.

“It’s not even watertight,” he gestures to the gaping hole in the roof.

“That’s what tradesmen are for.” L shrugs.

“It’d be cheaper to tear it down and make something new.”

“I don’t want something new,” L tuts, “and I don’t care about price.”

Light huffs, crossing his arms.

“What’s wrong?” L smirks.

Light doesn’t say it.

But they both know he doesn’t like the idea of L in the country, long term, breathing over his shoulder.

They wander a little deeper into the property and, yes, there are good bones. This could be an exceptionally lovely home base for a reclusive detective. But Light still disapproves.

That said Light thinks he’s escaped the brunt of L’s wrath with this strategy. L has retaliated to his little stunt with Mikami by purchasing this property. The ball should, theoretically, be back in Light’s court. At least that’s what he thinks until they enter what used to be a hall where the ground is more dirt and thick grass than anything that could be called ‘flooring’ and L—

Light yelps.

He’s had some combat training, basic self-defence, but L actually uses his training and develops it regularly so when L sweeps his feet out from under him Light doesn’t have any recourse. Sprawled across the grass, blinking, Light gathers himself enough to get angry. He’s trying to surge back up, trying to sit, when L slams down over the top of him and pins his hands over his head.

“We need to have a discussion.” L deadpans.

Light strains, hissing, but can’t get any traction. “With you on top of me?” He snaps accusingly.

“With me on top of you, yes.” L nods, smirk audible but not visible.

“Get off.” Light growls.

“Kind of annoying when someone plays dirty, isn’t it?” L tuts.

“Alright, alright, I get it.” Light huffs, hair dishevelled, body taunt under L’s looming weight.

“No, I don’t think we’re perfectly clear yet.” L maintains.

Light twists, struggles, one last time but he can’t shake L.

He hates it but, for now, he surrenders to lying still and glares.

“You knew it would irritate me to hear you getting pleasured by some stranger.” L grunts. “That’s why you did it. Shall we have a discussion about why it upsets me?”

Light fumbles, lips moving around the lump of coal in this mouth.

Fuck.

“No.” Light whispers tensely.

“We both know the answer.” L clarifies. “You knew it would piss me off and it did piss me off, so I know we’re both clear on what we’re not saying right now, but you don’t want to discuss it. Right?”

“Right.” Light barely breathes, frozen watching the steady lines of L’s face.

“Then we won’t discuss it.” L promises. But pressing his weight down into Light he lays their foreheads together and warns; “But don’t start this fight. Because next time I will escalate.”

Light has totally stopped breathing, frozen, aware of every tiny shift of L’s body.

His mind is a frantic, wordless, haze.

At this angle, in this position, it would be so easy for L to just…

But Light doesn’t want him to.

At least, Light thinks he doesn’t want him to…?

Honestly Light has never really been sure what he wants on this front. He knows, in his gut, what L wants but he doesn’t know his own decision and that terrifies him.

This is the looming terror unspoken; them a millimetre away from kissing.

Light’s nails bite into his palms and he has not air, can’t manage to inhale, but L sighs deeply over the top of him tickling his lips and then, slowly…

L eases back and off him, releasing him.

Light inhales sharply and jerks up into a sitting position.

Fuck.

Light fights the way his heart is pounding in his chest.

Calm.

Calm down.

L saunters a few feet away, hands stuffed in his pockets, slouching. He gives Light some space and, probably, needs a little air himself.

Light is gathering himself, coiling to strike, lash out, when their phones start ringing.

Light’s is first.

Light fumbles, head spinning, but presses the cell to his ear and barks; “What Rodger?”

Rodger fumbles to explain.

Light’s stomach drops.

But his heart never stops pounding.

Chapter Text

Light and L skip the House entirely and head straight to the hospital. L pulls a few ill advised driving manoeuvres but Light isn’t going to argue. They park somewhat illegally but two hand reared Wammy kids like they are aren’t afraid of paying a fine. Even if they get towed they have other cars they can use. It’s just not worth the extra ten minutes to find a legal spot.

Light feels all a fluster as they head into the hospital.

L hits the admissions desk first and tells the easiest, most digestible, lie for the plebeian nurses to process.

“Our father was brought into A&E a few minutes ago,” he explains.

“Of course, name?” The nurse flutters.

“Quilish Wammy.” L taps the linoleum counter like he’s playing a piano.

“He’s with doctors right now.” The nurse explains. “I don’t have much information aside from that. If you’d have a seat I’ll let the doctor know you’re out here when they’re done.”

“Thanks,” L grunts, a little curt and absent minded.

Light tugs him to the cheap plastic chair and they sink down like stones.

Fuck.

“Is Rodger--?” L glances, pulling his legs up onto the chair with him so he can think more clearly.

“I told him to stay with the kids so we can be here,” Light shakes head.

“So you can stay?” L supposes.

“I’m not going anywhere,” Light scoffs as that much should be obvious.

“Good,” L eases, relieved.

Light rubs his face. “This is so stupid. He’s healthy as a horse.”

“He does work very hard for someone his age.” L shrugs. “And he smokes a lot.”

“I thought he stopped?” Light blinks, twisting.

“I still catch him sometimes.” L grunts. “I think he just told us he stopped.”

Light groans, exasperated. “Sounds like Watari.”

They sit there for an hour or more. They’re too fretful and dazed to even look at their phones let alone make conversation. Light swallows the reoccurring bile in his throat.

Yes, he wants unquestioned authority over the House.

Yes, he doesn’t need Watari anymore.

But Watari is a comforting fixture of his life.

Just because he doesn’t need Watari doesn’t mean he wants Watari dead.

Watari’s insight, his experience, his connections… He’s useful.

He’s also the man who raised Light.

Light doesn’t get emotions like regular people experience them, not easily, but Watari is still family and that, whether he likes it or not, means something.

L is rocking slightly, mind churning.

Light keeps trying to stay still, perfectly still. He counts every breath. Matching the length of inhales to exhales. He maps his position sitting in the chair, taking note of every detail, and tries not to move, even unintentionally, unless its absolutely necessary which is usually when it becomes physically painful after long minutes.

A doctor comes out from the back, just another in the process. He talks to the nurse at the desk, voice soft, and Light doesn’t pay him much attention until the nurse gestures pointedly to Light and L in the corner.

L’s head perks up like a dog’s when the doctor comes towards them.

“Hi, it’s my understanding you’re Mister Wammy’s next of kin?” The doctor greets, peeling off his gloves tiredly.

“Yes,” Light clears his throat.

“Where is he?” L grunts, no time for pleasantries.

Light is afraid to ask.

But they need to know.

“I’m very sorry to tell you he passed.” The doctor replies, gentle but steady. “He put up a good fight, but his heart stopped again while we were working and we couldn’t get it to start again.”

Light feels something small, but real, twist irrevocably inside him.

L is very stiff, very quiet, eyes darting through a million avenues. He’s problem solving, he’s calculating, but Light knows neither of them are doctors and you can’t raise the dead.

Watari’s gone.

They’re orphans again.

The doctor gives them a moment to process, waiting.

“Can we see him?” Light asks, half out of routine.

“Of course, come with me,” the doctor invites.

Light shouldn’t have asked.

Watari looks so small and husk like with all the colour drained out of his cheeks. It’s an image Light isn’t going to be able to shift out of his mind for a long time.

L touches Watari’s hand, lingering at the edge of the gurney.

“Light,” he beckons.

Light shakes his head from the perimeter of the room.

He can’t touch dead things.

He wants the last time he touched Watari to be warm.

L doesn’t push it.

Light drifts back out of the room, leaning into his knees, head spinning.

He feels so sick.

They take Watari’s body to the morgue for holding while the estate organizes the funeral. L drives them back to the House.

Neither of them speak.

Light texts the details to Rodger and Bart before they get home and they agree with him that they should hold off telling the children until the morning. Light needs that as much as anything. He needs some air back in his lungs.

When they arrive to the House it’s dark and everyone is asleep.

Light doesn’t remember coming inside, coming up the stairs, slipping into L’s room and sitting on the edge of his bed. It’s not until L joins him on the edge of the mattress and starts taking his shoes off that Light even registers he’s still in his jacket.

Light purses his lips.

L sits beside him and, for another long moment, they stare at the wall.

“Damage control.” L murmurs, pulling his legs up, thumb half stuck into his mouth. “We need to run damage control.”

“Right,” Light nods.

“He updated his will recently.”

“It’s all watertight. What we agreed upon originally, mostly.” Light murmurs. “I get the House, the children, all that stuff…”

“I get the international properties.” L nods. “Most of the big tech; the helicopter, the jet, the boat.”

“He had those trinkets, in the safe, to split up between us and some of the graduates.” Light remembers absently.

“All other assets to be liquidated, funds split between you and me,” L finishes stating what they both already know.

Watari was well prepared for his mortality.

He got everything hashed out in writing a long time ago. It’ll take very little time to settle and both of them will walk away stupendously rich. Richer than they are right now.

Light will have unprecedented authority in the House.

He’ll be the primary legal custodian of all the children.

Why doesn’t he feel happy?

Light feels something roll over inside him.

Petulant stubbornness becomes fierce, needed, surrender in an instant.

“You shouldn’t leave the country until we get everything settled,” Light finds himself saying out loud.

“No, of course,” L agrees.

“If Watari’s gone then—” Light fumbles, trying to clear his addled head. “I think the quickest you can organize a courthouse marriage is thirty days?”

“We have to give notice twenty-nine days before.” L nods mechanically. “But we don’t have to rush that. It would be okay if—” L starts backtracking.

“No,” Light stops him abruptly, hands curled into fists in lap. “If something happens to me or you now, without Watari around…” Light can’t finish the sentence but if he sounds half as mortified, half as scared, as he feels then L should get the picture.

L closes his mouth and focuses on a spot on the wall.

“Right,” L submits, voice clear and subtly determined. “We’ll take care of this, of the others, of each other.”

“Yeah.” Light murmurs, nails still biting into his palms.

Pushing L away, playing games, is fine and fun until Light is genuinely terrified.

Then, at that awful point, the claws all shift direction and they are a stupid, broken, family.

Light can depend on that at least.

Light sits the children down to explain it to them in the morning. He knows how he’s going to sell this to them. He knows, developmentally, where they all are and how they’re travelling. He’s going to keep things short and simple, simple enough for the youngest to grasp, and he’ll meet privately with the older children to rub more balm into the wound while he explains to the smallest, over the next few weeks, about the reality of death. For some of them this is the first time they’ve ever lost someone.

Light has his game face on, mask firm on his perfect face, and he smiles at a carefully calibrated place meant to convey pain, love and resolve all at once.

He can do this.

“You all know Watari had to go to hospital yesterday,” Light starts.

“Is he okay?” Mello blurts out all at once. “Was it serious?”

“No, it…” Light’s eyes flicker to L in the back of the room. “Watari passed away last night.”

Viola clearly doesn’t quite understand but she’s only met Watari once so her distress will not be weighty and present until she starts feeding off the atmosphere of the older children.

Mello, meanwhile, looks devastated.

Near slumps into the floor, painfully quiet, and pulls his knees into his chest.

“We’re going to have a funeral in the next few days,” Light explains softly, “so we’ll all get a chance to say goodbye. All the graduates who can are going to fly home to pay their respects. We’ll all remember Watari, and how good he was, as a family.”

What a fucking lie.

Light loved Watari, angry and small, but Watari was not a good man. He was a pragmatic man. He believed in the big picture. In resource management.

But, damn, he was good at faking nice.

Light hopes people will find his act so convincing they’ll miss him half as much one day.

“But…” Matt wheezes, laughing emptily. “We’re all going to be okay, right Light…?”

It’s an easy question.

Light just has to say yes.

They will be fine.

Things will be different, but life will go on.

They’ll adjust.

Light opens his mouth, ready to smooth out an easy lie, but something about the simplicity of it starts crumbling the fake, compassionate, smile off his face.

“Yeah, of course,” Light hears his voice warble. “We’ll…”

He takes a breath.

And for the first time in years Light loses control of his mask.

The next thing he knows he’s crying.

Ugly, fat, stupid tears start ripping out of him.

The children, to whom he is a backbone, audibly start to panic.

Light needs to stop. He needs to shut up. He needs to get himself together, damn it.

But he can’t stop sobbing into his hands.

L surges forward from the back of the room and Light can hear him talking to the kids.

“Of course, we’re all going to stick together,” L promises firmly. “We’re all going to be sad, that’s normal, and you’re all allowed to be sad. We’re all going to miss Watari. But we’re all going to take care of each other.”

Light curls into his knees, blubbering still.

Stupid.

Stupid.

“We’re a family,” L continues, “life will change but things will be okay.”

Light feels hands, closeness, but jerking his head up he finds Near and Mello, not L.

Mello sits on the arm of his chair, hand curling into his shirt between his shoulder blades like an anchor and Near, still on the floor, fishes up one of Light’s hands and holds it very tight between his.

For the first time, probably ever, Light surrenders to being a failure for a few minutes.

Chapter Text

The funeral is very austere. Opulent in a way only the rich can be but private in a way afforded to seldom few figures with as much sway and clout as Watari. The graduates fly in, almost twenty of them, and they all commiserate as good family should. They’ve been trained to be polite enough not to ask about the inheritance. They’ve all be set up with good lives and realistic expectations about the fortune.

Arthur pats L between the shoulders, making a joke.

Eden is the first one to tell Light; “you’re going to do great. There’s no one better in the world to run the House. Watari always knew you were the best person for the job.”

Yeah, because no one who genuinely loved the children could carry out the maintenance of this sweat shop.

Two days after the funeral, when they announce the death publicly to associates and such the flowers start pouring in and Light gets a text from Mikami that reads;

[I’m sorry for your loss, Light. If you ever want to talk my door is open.]

Light doesn’t reply.

Mikami is a fuck toy.

This isn’t his business.

Matt leaves for MIT the following week and, strangely, his absence pains Light in a softly uncomfortable way. He usually doesn’t care. The children are leaving to do what he bought them for, right? So…

L stays at the House. Light organizes to give he and Mello some proper space so they can consult on cases together. Without Watari to pick up the slack L starts to give more to Mello and the boy takes to it like a fish to water. Never complains. Actually despite how tired he looks he seems happier than Light’s ever seen him.

Near enrols, mid-year, in an advanced chemistry course and, likewise, seems happy. He seeks Light out more often these days. To update him on progress, to ask him things, sometimes just to sit with him. More than once Near asks to study in Light’s office, with him, despite the plethora of warm, comfortable, places around the House. Light suspects he’s more the draw than the privacy of the space and that’s…

Light’s not sure how he feels about that.

Exactly thirty days after the funeral, in July, Light and L make the trip to the nearest courthouse. Light looks nice only on account of the fact he always looks nice. L meanwhile is in his regular jeans and baggy top ensemble. L’s looked a little messier lately as he adjusts to having to remember to care for himself without Watari’s pestering but he’s getting there.

The woman at the courthouse seems a little bemused when they walk in and downright perplexed when they explain they’re there to get married. It takes less than an hour all up, in and out, with their certified documents and such.

They have to use their birthnames on the certificate and, briefly, the clerk asks if either of them will be amending their surname.

Light hesitates, glancing.

They haven’t discussed that.

“We’re hyphenating it.” L answers, seemingly off the top of his head. “Lawliet-Yagami, right?” He glances back to Light.

Light teeters for a split second before decided; “yeah, right.”

He can agree to that. He’s never been attached to his surname anyway. It’ll just make things easier for them long term when they’re switching over ‘next of kin’ and so on.

The next few days Light has Rodger submit all their paperwork to change their names on licenses, bank accounts, etc. Records are updated and Light knows he’ll need to amend his own will, long term, but for now he’s content with the simplest ‘it all goes to L’ option in the event of his untimely death. L seems to agree.

Life goes on.

Things hit a new normal, albeit a temporary one.

Mid July they have to make a visit to the legal firm, Swan and Tuck, in London to settle the final details of Watari’s will now the estate has been processed. Light struts into the office with L behind him and Mikami flutters out to greet him.

“Light, great to see you,” Mikami flushes, “how are you?”

“Fine, thank you, Mikami.” Light deflects lazily. “Mikami this is—”

“I’m his husband,” L inserts himself, offering a cold hand to Mikami.

It’s a guess.

L can’t know Mikami is the one Light’s been sleeping with, but L is a keen detective after all and in the split second where the realization hits his face Mikami gives it all away. There’s a rush of ‘oh fuck’ on his face and as quickly as Mikami stifles it the game has been lost. L’s got to be certain now.

Light tries not to cuss.

“Mister Lawliet,” Mikami fumbles, shaking his hand. “What a pleasure to finally meet you.”

“And you,” L smirks. “Light always says such good things about your work ethic.”

“Ah—well—” Mikami tries to stabilize. “Thank you, that’s very kind. Shall we head to my office?”

“Sounds good.” L nudges them along.

In Mikami’s neatly furnished office they take their seats. Light crosses his legs primly, totally aloof, but he’s prepared for L to twist the knife a little. 

“So the estate has been settled,” Mikami assures, “no disputes, no issues.”

“That’s good to hear,” L nods.

“From the things locked in the vault everything else has been distributed to Mister Wammy’s other adopted children but these were set aside for you both.” Mikami gestures to two boxes wrapped in butcher’s paper stacked against the wall. “They’re labelled. Mister Wammy had them wrapped some time ago it seems, and he was very clear they were not be opened or disturbed in anyway before being given to you so I honestly have no idea what’s inside but they’re… heavy.”

L smirks softly.

Light snorts.

Typical Watari.

“Anything else?” Light supposes.

“The funds are out of limbo. The liquid portion of the estate is being transferred to you over the next twenty-four hours.”

“Everything that needed to be liquidated was?” Light checks.

“Yes, everything.” Mikami promises. “And it would be unwise to give you an exact number here but, needless to say, the final amount in the estate was considerable. That said, I’m sure you’d rather have Mister Wammy than money.”

“Exactly.” L grunts, tapping his kneecap with his fingers.

“Now that you two have, uh, legally married,” Mikami broaches the subject awkwardly, straightening his glasses on his nose. “Is there anything else you’d like to discuss? You are some of our most valued clients and we want you to have peace of mind, especially in these deeply emotional times.”

“That’s very kind of you Mikami, I’m sure Light’s appreciated your support while I’ve been out of the country,” L tuts levelly.

Mikami’s poker face is not exceptional, to say the least.

He looks sick.

“Thank you, Sir,” Mikami murmurs weakly.

Light clenches his teeth.

“Actually,” L pops his lips lazily, “I was thinking dinner. Known anywhere good, nearby, with a good drinks and dessert menu? You know, the kind of place you’d take a good looking date?”

Light rolls his eyes.

Mikami laughs awkwardly. “There’s a lovely place called Chateau, I can get you the address?”

“Yes, you do that.” L smirks, revelling in Mikami’s discomfort.

“Don’t be an asshole.” Light sighs out loud. “You’re so transparent.”

Mikami looks terrified.

“He’s a good lawyer, what’re you going to do? Throw a tantrum?” Light challenges.

“I’m just curious,” L shrugs. “While we’re on the subject, Mikami, do you sleep with all your clients? Is it like a hobby or is it just the really rich ones?”

“Sir, I don’t know what you mean,” Mikami deflects pitifully.

“Spare me.” L deadpans.

“You’re so dramatic.” Light huffs. “Stop making a scene.”

“I don’t suppose you know Light very well yet, Mikami,” L strikes up conversationally, “but I do. I’ve had the good fortune of knowing him since he was very small. The—”

“Stop it.” Light warns.

“The funny thing about Light,” L continues unhindered, “is that he’s such a social chameleon but, deep down, he really hates people. You’d never guess it, right? But that’s the inherent skill. He can use people till they’re dried up and helpless and they’ll thank him. It really is impressive.”

Mikami swallows stiffly.

“It’s one of the things I enjoy about him so much.” L grins. “He’s ruthless.”

Light huffs and snaps; “Mikami why don’t you go grab my coat? Mister Lawliet and I were just leaving.”

“Uh—Yes, of course.” Mikami hurries up, desperate for an escape out of the office.

Light can almost hear his heart pounding as he exits into the hall and leaves L and Light alone in his office.

“Stop it.” Light hisses.

“I didn’t think he’d be your type,” L scratches his jaw lazily, “he’s so…”

“I am entitled to sleep with whoever I want.” Light snaps. “Weren’t you the one who told me not to start this fight?”

“I’m not trying to fight with you,” L assures, “I’m just asserting myself over someone else. Am I not entitled to that?”

“If we’re not going to discuss it, and we’re not, then you’re not entitled to any portion of my sex life.” Light puts his foot down firmly. “Now help me get the boxes, we’re leaving.”

Mikami looks relieved to see the back end of them and Light wonders if he’ll ever get another ill-advised text from the lawyer again. Does L have to ruin all his fun? Light supposes he was owed it for his stunt but…

When they’re in the car L takes the wrong turn off.

“What are you doing now?” Light grumbles, leaning against the passenger window.

“I was serious back there,” L grunts, “I really do want to go somewhere nice for dinner.”

“You’re insufferable,” Light groans.

“This Chateau place really any good?” L asks casually.

“The desserts won’t meet your standards,” Light sighs knowingly, “turn left. We’ll got to Beatrix.”

“Sounds perfect.” L smirks softly.

Bastard.

They get a private booth in the VIP portion of the restaurant. The kind that has a privacy screen and softly playing music and security milling around so no paparazzi make a scene. Light scans the menu while L takes off his shoes under the table and when the waiter arrives Light grunts;

“French champagne. Something good. I’ll have the ravioli. He wants the raspberry cheesecake. Bring them out at the same time.”

The waiter blinks but recovers. “Yes Sir.”

Light’s sure that ranks low on the list of strange requests they likely receive at a place like this. It’s kind of why he likes it. He’s not the most unreasonable brat in the building.

“Mello seems to be adjusting well,” Light remarks.

“He really is taking to it,” L nods. “His deductive skills are not as well developed as Near’s but he has the passion to learn more and the drive to work hard. I think he’ll make a first-class detective in no time.”

“I was a little irritated originally,” Light admits what they both know, “but in retrospect I think you made the right decision. It suits him better.”

“Near seems happier in general,” L nods. “I suppose not being locked into a box and forced to fit there will do that to you.”

“Yes, I have to ask though,” Light rues, “Watari was the one who wanted you to have a successor in the first place. Now he’s gone do you even…?”

“It’s a lot of work, assistance is practical,” L shrugs. “Mello is trustworthy and passionate. I’m happy to have him right now. I don’t know if we’ll always work together or if he’ll succeed me necessarily, even if he’ll want to when he has his own reputation one day, but for now I’m content.”

Light nods, digesting that.

“And you?” L tilts his head.

“Hmm?” Light blinks as the waiter finishes putting their food on the table.

“Are you content?” L wonders.

Light tries not to sneer like L just took a shit on the table.

What an awful question.

“I’m never content,” Light picks up his champagne tersely.

“What would it take?” L probes. “What are you missing?”

“Does it matter?” Light grunts.

“Play the game.” L directs.

“Why should I?” Light scoffs.

“Because, as much as we fight, I do genuinely want you to be happy.” L kicks down the mounting tension with an abrupt, painful, moment of honesty.

Light hides behind his wine glass for another moment.

He can’t make eye contact.

“Before the funeral,” L murmurs, starting to dissect his cheesecake. “I’ve never seen you cry like that.”

“I’m not sure what that was,” Light confesses, picking up his fork. “I’m not the kind of person to break down.”

“No, you’re not,” L agrees, “but honestly the weird thing is that it’s probably the healthiest reaction to pain you’ve ever had.”

Light hesitates.

“You think?” He glances.

“When children are frustrated or overwhelmed, they cry. It’s an instinctive reflex. Baby animals learn how to run within hours. Human babies learn to cry because, developmentally, their key skill to master is to ask for help.” L elaborates. “You’ve never done that. You withdraw deeper and deeper into yourself and then, when you can’t go any deeper, you explode into the cruellest rages.”

Light hates being put up to a mirror like this.

He can’t deny that but…

“Well,” he dismisses with a laugh, “we both know I’m an awful person. We’ve known that for years.”

“You’re not an awful person, Light,” L replies firmly. “You just experience the world differently. We both do. My peculiarities we managed to problem solve but you’ve always been better at masking your dysfunction than me. So much so that Watari didn’t see all of it.”

“No, Watari didn’t care,” Light snaps weakly.

L pauses, not reacting, just waiting.

“He was focused on you, he always was,” Light murmurs. “Watari cared about me, I know, but he judged our health, our success, in different metrics. Sure, all my emotions are fake but I’m Watari’s idea of successful, so by his assessment I was thriving. He was the same with you; your dysfunction was only ever solved when it impeded your abilities to perform.”

L pokes at his cheesecake.

“I loved Watari,” he repeats, “but I know you’re right.”

“It’s fine,” Light sighs, “we can love him without thinking he was perfect, right?”

“Right,” L agrees. “But my question stands; what would make you content?”

Light, for the first time in a long time, stews on that for a moment.

“My gut reaction?” Light poses, fingers rubbing into the fork.

L encourages him with a jerk of his jaw.

“Beyond always used to call me Kira, do you remember that?” Light asks.

“The name you never had,” L nods. “He used it almost to name your alter ego, when you got spiteful, when you lashed out.”

“Kira is more the real me than anything else,” Light murmurs, “not hiding, not lying, just brilliant displays of greed and wrath. I think…”

Light sighs.

“I wonder, mostly,” he backtracks, “would I be happier if I found a way to be honest, to be myself, without crumbling the whole world around me?”

“There’s something very normal about wanting to express yourself authentically,” L replies. “I think you should try.”

“What if I break everything?” Light hesitates.

“I’ll fix it.” L answers. “I promise.”

“What if I don’t know how to be honest?” Light hunches a little deeper over his plate. “What if I don’t know where to start?”

“Well…” L chews on the edge of his fork. “When do you most feel like yourself? Like Kira? But not when you’re angry, when you’re calm but safe. When do you feel closest to the surface without being forced there?”

Light chews on that but the answer comes surprisingly quickly.

“Do I have a budget for this project?” He asks.

“Of course,” L grins.

Chapter Text

The webchat with Ryuk is decidedly awkward. Light has to take some time to find his nerve if only because this, like all Kira related things, feels like an awful idea intrinsically. They play chess, an hour of a first-person shooter, and then they move to purposefully breaking the coded functions of simulators in interesting ways.

“How many sims do you think we can herd into the pool and drown before we can’t put new sims in there anymore? Cause the pool is just a mound of bodies?” Ryuk suggests.

“Let’s start test one with a hundred randomly generated sims.” Light replies, immediately on board with this level of mindless, violent, stupidity.

“Yes,” Ryuk cheers.

“Hey Ugly,” Light grunts, “I have a question for you.”

“If this is about my doctor’s appointment, I already told you; I definitely have super aids.” Ryuk answers.

“Not your genital warts,” Light laughs despite himself. “Being a disappointment to your dad.”

“What about it?” Ryuk grunts.

“Want to move to the UK and work in my sweatshop?” Light drops the bombshell unceremoniously.

Ryuk laughs.

Light doesn’t.

“Dude, seriously?” Ryuk mutters.

“Yeah, seriously,” Light repeats.

“What would I even do?” Ryuk snorts.

“We have a lot of highly secure tech here,” Light shrugs, “you could manage our IT security and test hack it from time to time. You’re almost as good as me which means you’re the second-best hacker alive.”

“You’ve actually fucking thought about this…?” Ryuk seems taken aback.

“Is that a no?” Light grumbles.

“No, it’s not a no,” Ryuk counters. “But we’ve known each other for, like, six or seven years and this is the first time you’re talking like this.”

Light chews on his bottom lip.

“What’s the angle here?” Ryuk asks.

Light hesitates.

“Did you make a deal with the cops to turn me in?” Ryuk jokes.

Light laughs. “No, it just…”

Ryuk waits.

“My adopted dad died and I kind of had a breakdown,” Light tries to explain. “Now Detective Fuckface has moved in full time and I’d just… Like some back up?”

“I wouldn’t be on your side,” Ryuk reminds, “I don’t pick sides, less fun.”

“Yeah, well, I could use some fun?” Light shrugs weakly.

Ryuk is quiet for a moment before, chuckling; “how much would you pay me?”

“60K, it’s all you’re worth,” Light answers immediately.

“Ha! I was kidding!” Ryuk laughs. “Rude much?”

“So that’s a shit eating no?” Light clarifies.

“No, I’ll come,” Ryuk answers.

Light blinks, stomach flipping.

“But don’t pay me or anything, that’d be weird and if I start making actual money my Dad will think I’m less of a failure,” Ryuk enforces.

“Heh,” Light snorts, “can’t have that.”

“Nah, we’ll just tell him I’m bumming around my rich friend’s house eating—What do British people eat?”

“Scones.” Light supplies.

“Fucking scones,” Ryuk repeats in a put-on accent.

Light laughs.

“No, but seriously,” Ryuk repeats, “sounds fun. Just tell me what flight to get on.”

Light fights the instinct to, sincerely, thank Ryuk.

“Oh so I can’t pay you but you’ll let me buy your plane ticket?” Light scoffs.

“You can afford it!” Ryuk challenges.

Light permits L to run a background check on Ryuk as a security precaution. Predictably ‘Ryuk’ is not his legal name and he has a few charges to minor crimes and disturbances. Light knows all this. He’s investigated Ryuk thoroughly himself. He also knows Ryuk is a lot smarter than the rap sheet suggests. If he’d been caught for even one of his solo hacks, he'd be in prison serving life.

“This man?” L holds up a photo of Ryuk’s most recent driver’s license.

“Yes.” Light nods.

“You want this man to move in?” L repeats.

“Yes,” Light replies.

“Mello,” L turns to the teenager, “what do I look like?”

“Uh…” Mello hesitates.

“Be honest.” L orders.

“A homeless person?” Mello replies, confused.

“What does this guy look like?” L flashes the photo to Mello.

Mello gawks. “Dude that’s a toad!”

Light snatches back the photo.

Ryuk’s choice of spiky gelled hair is not flattering. His skin is blotchy, and his teeth are crooked. Light would argue he’s a good person to make up for these varied physical shortcomings but he’s not so—

“You said I could do whatever I needed,” Light argues.

“I did not think you’d summon a demon to the grounds,” L grumbles.

“Oh so when you hang out with criminals it’s fine?” Light challenges.

“Wedy and Aiber understand showering.” L replies levelly. “I suspect if I threw a bucket of water on that man he’d melt.”

“I’ve already booked the plane ticket,” Light puts his foot down.

L throws his hands up, placating.

“I look forward to meeting your personal garbage monster.” L dismisses.

Light crumples up the print out and lobs it at L’s head.

Storming back upstairs, away from what Light is calling Mello and L’s ‘consulting lair’, Light finds Near crossing in the hallway. The teenager pauses, smiling sheepishly, and Light ruffles his hair as he passes.

“You looking for something to do Near?” He supposes.

“Just filling in time,” Near answers. “Do you need something?”

“I’m getting a room ready for a new staff member,” Light glances back, “can you help me tidy things up?”

“Sure,” Near grunts, following after him closely.

Ryuk is getting a repurposed smaller room in the administrative wing of the Estate. It used to just be the domestic wing of the estate when they was only Watari and the first generation of Wammy Kids. Light’s room, L’s room, Beyond, Able… all of them slept here. Light’s given Ryuk what was Able’s room. It’s been cleaned out for years but the air still feels dank.

Able locked himself up in here for weeks.

Stepping onto the floorboards Light finds himself swallowing.

He knows Watari had the place professionally cleaned with industrial grade products but standing on the dull floor Light gets a waft of crusty blood hitting his nostrils.

Maybe it’s just a memory?

Light hasn’t really been in here since he found the body.

Bart and Rodger have dusted things off and done most of the heavy lifting setting up a bedframe and bringing in a new mattress. The old mattress was—

Light stifles the thought.

Light picks up the back of newly purchased bedding off the floor near the door.

“Help me put on the sheets?” He turns to Near.

“I don’t think I’ve ever been in this room,” Near murmurs, twirling his hair.

“No, you wouldn’t have been,” Light answers casually, pulling the sheets out of the packaging.

“Who’s room was this?” Near asks, taking the other end of the fitted sheet.

“Able,” Light answers.

“I haven’t heard that name,” Near admits. “What do they do now? They don’t visit?”

“He died,” Light answers lazily. “He grew up with L and I but he passed away before we adopted you. It was pretty awful, sudden, so Watari hesitated to use this room for anything else for a long time.”

“You’re not afraid of ghosts,” Near tucks the sheet with him, almost encouraging in his tone as they work.

“I think all the ghosts are gone now,” Light snorts amicably.

“I used to think that I wanted to be just like L,” Near admits as they work, “but I’m starting to realize I’d rather be like you.”

“Oh?” Light laughs warmly. “Why’s that?”

“I always thought social skills were overrated but perhaps that’s just because I find them very difficult to master.” Near pauses, pillow in hand. “You’re so good at handling people, you can make anyone like you, and you always seem so calm even when other people are being unreasonable. I can’t do anything like that.”

Light pauses, pillowcase newly fitted on the pillow in his arms.

Maybe it’s L’s words ringing around his head.

Maybe it’s Able’s ghost lingering in the air.

“You want to know a secret Near?” He glances.

Near blinks, but nods keenly.

“I hate people,” Light confesses levelly. “I hate their voices, I hate when they eat or they cry, I especially hate when they touch me with their dirty fucking fingers. I just spent a long, long, time working very hard to convince people otherwise.”

Near’s eyes widen, baffled.

Light waits for him to show some disgust, some hesitation.

But Near just answers; “you’re so convincing.”

Like he finds it awe inspiring, like he’s jealous.

“There are only so many things you can do alone,” Light shrugs, “at some point you’ll inevitably need other people to cooperate with you. Convincing people to do what I want with as little hassle as possible was a key priority to me when I was younger than you are now.”

“Can…?” Near hesitates.

Light meets his gaze.

“Can you teach me that?”

“You don’t need to learn that Near,” Light smiles softly, “it’s not a very pleasant skill.”

“But my life would be easier if I could deal with people.” Near argues.

“It didn’t make me like people anymore,” Light corrects, “it just made my lies more convincing.”

Near doesn’t ask the obvious question:

If Light is lying, all the time, does he really love the children at all?

Does he love Near?

Near just listens, digesting.

“Would you show me a little? Please?” Near insists.

Light snorts. “Sure, I’ll show you a little.  But right now we’ve got to finish getting the room ready, okay?”

“Right,” Near agrees.

Chapter Text

Ryuk’s flight arrives late one night and Rodger picks him up from the airport. L and Mello are in their ‘consulting lair’ and most of the other children have gone to bed or are having quiet time in their rooms. Light is the only one there to greet Ryuk when he comes tumbling through the front door with a cheap suitcase and scuffed sunglasses on the top of his head.

Ryuk really is an ugly man.

He whistles, low, at the high ceilings.

“Just fucking look at this place…”

“Hey Ugly,” Light scoffs.

“Shit for brains!” Ryuk cheers, throwing down his backpack off one shoulder so loud it clunks and spreading his arms open wide. He shuffles forward but Light holds his hands up immediately.

“I don’t want super rabies.” Light maintains.

“Pft, dude, it’s aids. Obviously.” Ryuk huffs, rolling his eyes.

“Either way,” Light laughs.

“I’ll get you snuggling one day, asscrack.” Ryuk shots the finger guns at him.

“Unlikely.” Light snorts, beckoning. “Want to see your new place?”

“Yeah!” Ryuk cheers.

“Leave your big bag, Bart will get it,” Light assures.

“If you say so,” Ryuk grunts, picking up his backpack off the tiles. “This place is fucking eerie. It’s like a horror movie. You ever seen that movie? Crimson Peak? With the tits and the hot guy?”

“No, I haven’t,” Light laughs as they climb the stairs.

“Oh we’re so watching that,” Ryuk declares.

“I’ll add it to the playlist.” Light assures.

As they reach the right door Light pulls out the key to unlock it.

“This is your key, this is mine,” Light pops one in Ryuk’s hand. “Kids sleep in the opposite wing, so it’ll be quiet down here.”

“Where’s your room?” Ryuk asks.

“Like I’d tell you that,” Light scoffs. “Not having you wake me up at three am for Mario Golf.”

“Ugh, fuck, you’re onto me already.” Ryuk grumbles.

“Home sweet home.” Light declares, thumping down to sit on the edge of Ryuk’s new bed.

“Dude this is nicer than my whole apartment…” Ryuk whistles again. “But I really need to take a shit. Where--?”

“You bathroom is two doors down, it’s the only room unlocked, go nuts.” Light invites.

“Thanks,” Ryuk dumps his backpack again on the end of the bed.

“If your break it you bought it Ryuk!” Light calls after him as a warning.

“I get nervous shitting on planes!” Ryuk calls back unapologetically.

Light snorts and falls back to stare at the ceiling.

Was it wrong to put Ryuk in this room?

“No beast?” L’s voice rings out suddenly.

Light lifts his head, finding L in the doorway glancing around curiously.

“Bathroom break.” Light grunts, slumping back down.

L shuffles into the room, glancing, and Light doesn’t lift his head to watch him purposefully.

“It feels different in here,” L murmurs.

“Yeah…” Light agrees softly. 

“Now, don’t mean to brag, but I just took the biggest—” Ryuk ambles back into the room, buckling up his pants. He pauses, laughing sheepishly, as he spots L turning back towards him.

Light sits up.

“L this is Ryuk,” Light introduces.

L nods.

“Ryuk this is—”

“Detective Fuckface!” Ryuk cheers enthusiastically, crossing the divide to fish up L’s hand and shake it aggressively. “Ha! I’ve wanted to meet you forever!”

L blinks, “well, it’s very nice to meet one of Light’s friends too. I didn’t realize he mentioned me.”

“Never stops,” Ryuk groans, “just bitching and bitching! All the time!”

“Sounds like Light,” L deadpans.

“He is a little bitch.” Ryuk nods sagely.

“You seem like a wise man, Ryuk,” L agrees.

“Thank you,” Ryuk croons, “I feel welcomed already.”

Light rolls his eyes. “You two, getting along? Am I in a nightmare?”

“No, but if I start scrapping a fork against my teeth—” Ryuk offers.

“No!” Light groans, pleading. “Anything but that!”

“If you’re hungry Ryuk, I was just about to have a late-night snack,” L invites.

“What’re we talking here?” Ryuk turns back towards him.

“I’m going to start with gelato and escalate to croissants depending on what happens.” L shrugs, hands in his pockets.

“See, Light, I don’t know what you’re complaining about.” Ryuk grunts. “This guy has taste!”

“No, he doesn’t.” Light deadpans.

“He likes you, doesn’t he?” Ryuk challenges.

Light blinks, mystified, but—“Shut up Ryuk!”

Ryuk cackles. “So about that ice cream?”

“Gelato,” L corrects.

“Same difference; give me sugar.” Ryuk replies aptly.

Light withers, hissing, and pinches the bridge of his nose.

Maybe this was a mistake?

Ryuk has an adjusted sleeping schedule. He spends most of the night awake, getting settled into the tech nest Light is building for him, and then sleeps until late afternoon the following day. He shuffles down the stairs, in a dressing gown, boxers and fluffy slippers, to amble into the kitchen scratching under his armpit as he forages for breakfast.

Light has already told Matilda to treat Ryuk’s unusual culinary requests with the same respect she provides to L. That said L wants gourmet desserts and Light hears Ryuk asking for a sugary children’s cereal in a bowl of Baileys chocolate liquor. So their tastes are decidedly polarised when it comes to cost, among other things.

Once Ryuk has stuffed his face Light enters the kitchen to lean against the counter and announce.

“I need you for ten minutes.” Light grunts.

“What for?” Ryuk grumbles.

“I need to introduce you to the children.”

“Ah fuck,” Ryuk sighs, scratching his armpit with his spoon before putting it back in the bowl of cereal for another mouthful. Light physically gags as Ryuk asks; “do I gotta do anything? Get dressed?” 

“I think the children’s first impression of you should be in your full splendour.” Light decides.

It’s not like he can do much to lessen the effect of Ryuk’s whole existence.

Wammy House is definitely changing.

Light escorts Ryuk into a sitting room where most of the children are assembled. Near and Mello met Ryuk without incident last night. They don’t have to do this again.

“Okay everyone, quick announcement,” Light settles them.

He sinks into his seat and the children turn to him like trained circus animals, keen and well behaved.

“Everyone this is Ryuk,” Light introduces. “He’s an associate of mine and he’s here to work for me.”

Ryuk snorts, loudly.

Light raises one brow, threatening, and Ryuk bites his lip.

“You’re going to see Ryuk around the house from now on but don’t worry about it,” Light explains. “Ryuk has his job to do and you have your projects. Just remember your manners, like I know you will, and I’m sure—”

Ryuk bursts out laughing.

“Ryuk,” Light hisses.

“S-sorry!” Ryuk laughs, clutching his stomach. “Sorry, sorry! Keep going. Sorry.”

He wheezes, trying to contain himself.

Light frowns.

He knows what Ryuk is laughing about.

He can see it in his eyes.

Light, Kira, acting like a daycare worker.

But you know what?

Maybe Ryuk doesn’t deserve that.

“Guys,” Light turns back to the kids, “Ryuk is an idiot, okay?”

“Hey!” Ryuk barks.

“He’s very simple in the brain,” Light declares to the children, “so please be gentle with him. You don’t have to follow any instructions from him, just try to make sure he doesn’t break anything and don’t let him get in the way of your work. If he bothers you, or is a nuisance, let me know, okay?”

The kids are used to Light talking in a certain tone.

He wouldn’t be surprised if this change of tactic confused them but…

Honestly?

A lot of the kids, especially the older ones, appear genuinely delighted to see Light be so honest, so almost playful…

It’s not how Light likes to do things but he’ll let it slide.

No one was hurt, right?

What does it matter if he’s a little less formal?

It’s just Ryuk.

But maybe that’s the insidious part of having Ryuk here? Light can’t take him seriously, can’t be nice and prim with him, and by extension Ryuk makes it hard for Light to be so stern and artificial in all aspects of his life.

Light hopes this wasn’t a mistake.

He doesn’t want the children to see so deep past his mask he loses control but…Right now? They look excited. Like Light is letting them see a juicy secret they never imagined existed. They seem thrilled they’re getting to see this side of him.

Maybe Light can find a way to express a little more of himself without going full Kira…?

Only time will tell.

Chapter Text

Again, life adjusts.

Ryuk works, sort of, but mainly he’s a presence around the House. It becomes hard for Light to work so many hours a day with Ryuk hassling him to watch movies or play games. Likewise it’s hard to maintain his elegant exterior when Ryuk is pulling faces or cracking obscene jokes at a moment’s notice. Light can’t prepare for all of them.

Light is even getting used to L being around.

L and Mello are making good money consulting and they take a few short trips to work on cases but the longest they’re absent from the House, for the whole month of October, is four consecutive days.

L still hassles Light for this or that- a consultation, a hack- but some of it Light can fob off on Ryuk and the rest is easier to juggle when L seems to understand Light can’t just stay with him, unceasingly, for days but can jump and forth between assisting L and raising the children of Wammy House.

Ryuk and L get on like a house on fire, it’s disgusting.

Mello is shiny and confident.

Near is performing exceptionally in his chemistry course.

And the children, everyone, seem…

They seem calmer, happier, for evidently no reason?

“I wish I knew what’s got everyone in such a good mood,” Light snorts one night while he and L review a case file in the glow of the computer screens, the rest of the House fast asleep.

“They’re reacting to you,” L supplies.

“Hm?” Light jerks his head up.

“You seem happier, and they’re feeding off that,” L taps away. “They’re delighting in getting to see you more laid back and genuine and playful.”

“Snarky and crass and cruel, you mean?” Light corrects.

“No one’s perfect, Light,” L grunts, “is it really so surprising that some people like you more now they can see you’re not perfect all the time either?”

Light glances to Mello, asleep on the couch, and tries to understand that idea.

“I just…” Light shrugs.

“You always thought no one would like the real you,” L completes the thought. “I know.”

Light chews on that.

“I should turn in for the night,” Light decides to deflect, but gently. “You should get some sleep too. You’re at forty-nine hours awake.”

“I’ve gone longer,” L argues.

“Well either way,” Light shuts his laptop, “I’m going to bed.”

Shuffling up Light wakes Mello on the couch gently. Mello grumbles, groggy, and Light helps him up to escort the blonde boy up the stairs to his actual bedroom arm wrapped around the adolescent warmly. Light can hear L tapping and typing the whole way out of the room.

Twenty minutes later, sprawled in his own bed, Light blinks lazily at the ceiling.

He’s not totally surprised when L unlocks the door and slips in.

Light throws open the blankets on his other side and, climbing up on the mattress, L crawls into bed with him. Light lifts his head, L’s arm slipping under his neck. L’s other arm hooks around his middle, face buried in his shoulder, and as they settle they both take a deep breath.

This is nice...

Light closes his eyes.

They flicker open a second later when his phone starts vibrating.

Lifting his head, shuffling up onto one elbow, Light checks the screen.

“Who calls at three am?” L grumbles.

“Might be an emergency.” Light argues.

“Is it?” L grunts as Light checks the caller ID.

“Oh.” Light deadpans.

“What?” L lifts his head groggily.

“It’s…” Light tries to be flippant. “It’s just Mikami.”

L becomes very quiet.

“You should answer it.” L decides levelly.

“Don’t be stupid.” Light twists to put the phone down.

L’s hand shoots out to grip his wrist.

Yanking him back, L presses his thumb on the green call button while Light half gasps, half struggles. Cussing, hissing, Light jerks the phone to his ear.

“Hello?” He fumbles.

“Light,” Mikami answers, sounding relieved. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t wake you up, did I?”

“It’s three am, Teru,” Light grunts, making his point.

“Yes, I know…” Mikami apologizes. “I just…”

“Is this an emergency?” Light wonders.

L looms along his back.

“Well…” Mikami hesitates.

L yanks Light down by his knees jerking him onto his back and tugging him a little further down the bed. Light bites his lip tight, swatting at L aggressively with his free hand.

“I know it’s inappropriate,” Mikami prefaces. “But I can’t stop thinking about you.”

L climbs onto Light, straddling his legs, pinning him to the bed.

Light tries to hit him.

L takes his captured hand and unfurls his angry fingers, kissing into the palm of Light’s hand.

Light fumbles audibly, confused.

“I know that must sound strange,” Mikami rues. “But it’s true. You’re just so…”

Light doesn’t know what to say.

More aptly he doesn’t know who to yell at first.

He’s mortified but all the same a tingle is heating up his spine as L sucks the tenderest skin in the curve of his thumb.

“I miss our time together,” Mikami makes the point.

L pops Light’s thumb into his mouth, his other hand sliding under Light’s shirt across his navel.

“Stop it.” Light hisses on reflex, panicking.

“I- I’m sorry!” Mikami flusters. “Please, is there any chance we could--?”

“No.” Light stresses to both the stupid men in his bedroom, voice thick with warning.

L pauses, Light’s thumb on his tongue, L’s hand curling around his waist.

Mikami sounds pained.

“I’m sorry to bother you so late,” Mikami repeats. “Goodnight.”

Light hangs up the call and tossing the phone away lunges at L with his now free hand.

L catches that too and grunting, pins him totally on the bed.

Light glares but tries not to buck or writhe against the resistance.

“Don’t start this.” Light orders.

“How long are we going to dance around the issue?” L supposes curling over the top of him, extending their pinned bodies until they’re both taunt.

“There isn’t an issue.” Light grunts.

“We are a breath away from exploding into each other at all times.” L corrects stubbornly. “We should address that.”

“And do what?” Light growls. “How do you imagine this ends?”

“How do you?” L challenges.

“Best case scenario? We fuck, maybe casually for a long time.” Light answers.

“That’s best case to you?” L snorts. “What’s worst case?”

“We get too tangled, too close, and I become your fucking sidekick.” Light murmurs. “We drive each other insane. We bring out the worst in each other.”

“You’re doing it again.” L whispers.

“Doing what?” Light grumbles, straining. “Will you--? Get off!”

“No.” L refuses. “You’re seeing the worst in yourself again, you’re being too pessimistic, too extreme.”

“And what’s the other option?”

“We bring out the best in each other.” L suggests. “We fuck, it’s good, we feel better. You relax a little and no one hurts you. We take over the world, together.”

Light wavers, L a breath away.

“I don’t want to—”

“I’m here now,” L murmurs, “I’m here every day. Are you a sidekick now?”

Light hesitates.

“One kiss.” L tempts. “Just close your eyes, just for once, and try it without thinking so hard about it.”

Light’s not sure he can do that.

He swallows.

“Just trust me.” L orders.

Light purses his lips but…

Sighing, tensely, through his nose Light closes his eyes.

L sinks down over the top of him, lacing their fingers over Light’s head, not pinning him anymore. Light is tense, sick, but L’s mouth slots against his chapped and warm and just—

The strangest thing happens for a split second.

Light stops thinking.

There’s just L. Warmth, the chapped texture of his lips, his vaguely rumpled but familiar scent… It’s strange but Light can’t help but fall into it. His brain shuts off, all without his input, and he is, for just a second, safe and warm and kissed.

He’s just a twenty-something.

He’s not Light, he’s not Kira, he’s just…

He just is.

They flex against each other, mouths moving, and Light’s fingers curl tighter around L’s over his head. L is tender and present and Light doesn’t doubt in any miniscule pore of his body that L wants him, values him, sees him… He knows it. He can feel it, taste it, in L’s kiss. There’s adoration written in the silence somewhere.

It’s nothing like the other kisses Light has had.

Gently L pulls back, looming over Light.

Light takes a second to open his eyes.

“I always want to kiss you.” L murmurs.

Light feels his mouth working, torn around several ideas, but all that comes out is; “kiss me again.”

L does.

Light shifts, moving just so, and L lets him cradle the sides of his face as the older orphan leans over him on his elbows.

God, how does it feel so good? Why is it so disgustingly simple?

L pauses, parting from him naturally, still close.

“Can we talk about this?” L murmurs, tired but optimistic.

“Yeah.” Light consents warily. “We can talk about this. But, maybe not at three am?” He suggests. “Tomorrow maybe?”

L frowns; “I’m holding you to that.”

“Right,” Light agrees. “Okay.”

Chapter Text

Light is exhausted the following morning. L gets to sleep in but the children all have schedules Light has to work around so there’s really no rest for the wicked. Light is running a little behind schedule all morning so it’s not till ten or eleven he gets a quiet moment to eat breakfast in the kitchen with Ryuk who has just woken up.

“Lazy bastard.” Light rues.

Ryuk grins unapologetically, sipping his box apple juice through the tiny plastic straw like an urchin.

Light munches his toast, trying to enjoy a moment of peace and quiet.

Until, of course, it’s ruined.

“Sir?” Bart sticks his head into the kitchen.

Light withers, trying not to whine. “What?” He grunts irritably.

“There’s a call from Matt and Sprite for you.”

“Emergency?” Light chews.

“Emergency.” Bart confirms.

Light grumbles pushing his remaining toast towards Ryuk who picks it up in his other hand immediately. Coffee in one hand Light follows Bart back up to his primary office and, with a brief pause, switches the call to a webcam set up so he can see everyone’s faces.

Sprite, the Wammy graduate Matt is living with, looks irritated.

Matt looks mortified.

“Alright, so spill,” Light invites, “what did he do?”

Matt winces but it’s obvious he’s fucked something up so Light’s not going to beat around the bush.

“He hacked into some of the servers of a competing club at MIT, ruined some of their course work in the process,” Sprite glares, arms folded sternly. “The school is pissed and one of the other students is from money so they’re going to pursue damages.”

Light sighs, rubbing the bridge of his nose. “Sprite, thank you for letting me know, I’m sorry Matt’s caused you this trouble. It will not happen again, of course. Can you give me a minute alone with Matt to discuss the specifics?”

“Yeah, of course,” Sprite replies, shuffling out of her chair. “Thanks Light.”

“Any time,” Light shakes his head.

Light waits, patiently, until he watches the door shut in the background of the webcam footage.

“Well?” He prompts Matt.

“I’m sorry,” Matt groans, curling in on himself. “I know it was stupid. I shouldn’t have done it. It won’t ever happen again. I’m sorry Light, I shouldn’t have—”

“I don’t care that you did it, Matt,” Light snaps.

Matt freezes, head jerking up.

“I’ve fucked over every traffic light in San Francisco for fun.” Light reveals.

Matt’s eyes go huge.

“I care that you got caught.” Light specifies.

Matt’s bottom lip falls open dumbly.

“I’m going to send you funds to clear this up.” Light declares. “Pay the other kid his damages and get this off your record.”

“Y-yeah, sure, thank you.” Matt fumbles.

“I’m not doing this a second time,” Light warns. “Next time you get caught I’m not helping, period, so don’t get caught. We clear?”

Matt nods dumbly, obviously this is going to take a while for him to digest.

“Seriously, what did you even do?”

“I just…” Matt shrugs. “I hacked into their group discord, their social media and emails. I just sent a lot of embarrassing messages implying they all look at furry porn. I deleted some stuff off their google docs and, apparently, they had some assignments in there so…”

“So a total amateur job on your part, in every regard?” Light scoffs.

“Uh—Well—Yeah,” Matt groans, slumping.

“I raised you to be smart,” Light huffs, “surely you have more ambition than sending furry porn to some idiot’s grandmother.”

Matt doesn’t seem to know what to say.

“Is MIT giving you projects?” Light sighs.

“Uh yeah?” Matt fumbles.

“Well, new project,” Light declares, “hack something interesting and don’t get caught this time. Bring me some results that are actually useful or impactful.”

“Okay,” Matt nods quickly, “I will, Light, promise.”

“Good,” Light sighs. “Now go apologize to Sprite again and if she asks, I chewed you out. Clear?”

“Crystal.” Matt nods keenly. 

Light is barely on his feet again, intending to leave his office, when L lets himself in. Light grunts, putting his empty coffee mug back down.

“Can this wait? I’m behind today something awful and—”

L crowds him back against the edge of the desk, hands on either sides of his hips, and ducking down seals their mouths together in a firm, hot, kiss. Light catches him, hands on his shoulders, but doesn’t stop the assault.

Again, like magic, his brain shuts off.

Just L, just warmth, just soda bubbles in his gut…

L eases back.

“Give me twenty minutes,” L murmurs. “I’ve got a download processing downstairs with Mello but then I need to get back to work and I’ll inevitably be locked up until midnight.”

“Twenty minutes,” Light permits.

“We’re already married so…” L snorts. “But I want to kiss you, touch you.”

“I can allow that.” Light supposes. “Just not in front of the kids. At least for a while.”

“Right.” L accepts. “And we should carve out some time to do us stuff. Have fun.”

“I can allow that too.” Light nods. “You’ll be the problem there, Mister unpredictable schedule.”

“Give me set times and I’ll make it happen.” L promises, ducking back down for another kiss that spins Light’s gut under his skin.

“I have some concerns,” Light rues, “probably a million—”

“That’s less than I was expecting,” L quirks.

“—but I suspect most of them we’ll have work out as we go along.” Light snorts.

“I suspect so.” L nods.

“This is ridiculous,” Light admits to himself, “why are we doing this? It’s just going to complicate things and we don’t need—”

Another kiss.

Instant brain reboot.

L strikes while Light’s still getting his breath back.

“Because we’ve been stupidly drawn to each other since we were children,” L grunts. “That attraction has never gone anywhere and neither have we. We need to face it eventually.”

Light computes that as best he can.

He knows it’s true, he just always sees the potential for disaster when it comes to unbridling his own tenacious, greedy, desires.

“I’m not going to let you or Kira destroy me.” L promises warily.

“And what about—?”

“Not the rest of our carefully constructed lives either.” L reinforces. “The world will keep spinning and we will keep winning. We refuse to lose.”

Light chuckles.

L kisses his forehead, between strands of hair.

“Pick a date night.” L instructs. “Email or text me the details. I’ll be there.”

Light strokes the line of his jaw, down his neck. “Okay,” he consents. “I’ll try.”

“There is no try, only do.” L quotes.

Light shoves him. “Don’t be annoying.”

“I have to go.” L warns, kissing his cheek when Light twists out of the path of his mouth, arm squeezing around Light’s waist firmly.

“Go catch some criminals, Detective Fuckface.” Light snorts.

“Go polish the assets, Sweatshop Owner.” L shots back, nipping the lobe of his ear.

Light gasps at the teeth and shoves him back. “Go! Scram!”

Light has finished eating with the rest of the house when he makes his way into L’s consulting lair downstairs with a plate of food on a tray.

“Dinner?” L quirks.

“For Mello.” Light puts his foot down. “Can’t have you starving the next great detective.”

Mello laughs. “Thanks Light, you’re the best.”

Light snorts, ruffling his hair as he sets the plate down at Mello’s station. Assets perform better when they’re maintained and Mello is, through L, helping them make a lot of money and earning them plenty of acclaim. Don’t want Mello forgetting the people who got him this far however.

“Hey Light,” Mello twists in his chair, “can I ask you a favour?”

“Depends,” Light tuts warily, “what kind of favour?”

“I need new clothes, I want to head into London, and—”

“Well you’ve got a license and L’s paying you a wage,” Light shrugs, leaning into Mello’s work station. “Buy new clothes, I don’t see the problem?”

“I want a new look, something cool,” Mello reveals. “I’ve been looking online and there are some specific shops I wanna check out in London but, like, I need someone with style to give me a second opinion and L—”

“L has no style,” Light concludes.

“Right,” Mello nods.

“I’m right here, you know,” L grunts. “I can hear you.”

“We’re not talking to you,” Light dismisses, turning back to Mello. “I can see your problem Mello. I can’t go anywhere until Friday though, can you wait?”

“Yeah, that’s fine,” Mello assures. “We’re going to be working on this case for the next few days anyway.”

“Perfect,” Light decides, “we’ll head into the city then and we can try out your new look. But you’re paying, okay?”

“Okay,” Mello promises, knocking their knuckles together. 

“Alright, I’m off for the night,” Light straightens his sweater pushing off Mello’s work station. “If you two see anything creepy in the middle of the night, while you’re slaving away, it’s probably just Ryuk.”

“He is super creepy looking, especially in the dark,” Mello tuts.

“Agreed.” Light laughs. “And I have an appointment to watch Hellraiser with him I can’t be late for so…”

“Night Light!” Mello calls, turning back.

“Night,” L grunts.

Chapter Text

It’s been a long time since Mello and Light had a one-on-one excursion. Mello seems to be enjoying the chance to revel in how grown up he is now. Though he does seem a little disheartened when Light reminds him being an adult also means he has to pay for their parking.

Light keeps his hands tucked in his coat pockets as they walk, one hand around his smart phone just in case Bart, Rodger, L or Ryuk call him with some emergency. Though what Ryuk and L think classifies as an emergency is pretty suspect at the best of times.

Mello has a list of alternative clothing shops he wants to visit. They’re all goth and punk styled, real rock-metal kind of stuff, with resin pins of vampire bats and big fuck-off platform boots. Mello looks a little hesitant when they step into the first shop and Light realizes the teenager is waiting for his reaction.

Light smirks, mischievous. “If you’re going to do all this Mello, you better have a leather jacket on your wish list. You won’t look right without it.”

Mello grins widely.

“Come help me pick shoes!” He delights.

Mello really has settled down a little since finding his place. It’s apparent in his calm, his joy, and honestly Light finds its easy to spend the morning with him. Mello seems to enjoy Light’s creeping sense of humour and his dry wit now that Light’s letting him see more of it too.

They’re discerning but eager as they sort through the clothing racks and start building Mello’s new style. Light is tinged with a little goth chic, dark academia, all that crap but Mello wants to explore full leather and real hard punk. Light thinks that’s natural at his age.

“You know Mello, I had my doubts about you working with L,” Light admits as Mello tries on shoes in the second store. “But you’re a natural.”

“At least you gave me a chance, I loved Watari, but he wouldn’t have done that.”

“No,” Light agrees. “He wouldn’t.”

“Hey, Light, can I ask you something personal?” Mello asks, lacing up the combat boots on his feet.

“Sure,” Light invites.

“Are you happy Watari is dead?”

Light blinks, rattled by such a bold question.

“What? No, of course not.” Light fumbles. “Why would you think that?”

“I dunno,” Mello shrugs. “I loved Watari, and I know you did, but you seem so much happier lately. It’s really fantastic to see more of you but it got me wondering why you didn’t act like this earlier and all I could think that changed was Watari dying so…”

“No, it’s not that,” Light promises, calming himself down. “L and I have just been having some serious discussions. Nothing you have to worry about, but he convinced me you’d all still love me if I was a little less polished and perfect all the time.”

“Definitely,” Mello grins. “Honestly, I kind of thought you were a bit of a stick in the mud. I always loved you, loads, but like… lately I’m starting to see why L always singled you out. You’re kind of badass under it all. I guess I just took you for granted. I’m sorry.”

“No, I just try to be a very particular kind of guardian with you guys,” Light snorts. “That’s all.”

Mello beams.

Light lets his own smile soften his face. “So we getting those boots?”

“Do you think I should?”

“I think you looked better in the knee highs.”

“With the skulls?” Mello checks.

“Absolutely.” Light nods.

As they start packing up from the last store, bags in hand, Light gets a text.

[RYUK: Hey, not my business, but you don’t usually take teenagers in do you?]

Light stumbles to a stop, frowning. [No, not usually. We prefer the assets younger. Makes the program easier. Why…?]

[RYUK: No reason. You guys coming back soon?]

[Yeah, we should be home in about an hour. Why?] Light presses, overestimating their arrival time on purpose.

[RYUK: Just looking forward to dinner! See ya soon! <3]

Light hesitates.

“You okay Light?” Mello glances.

Ryuk doesn’t get involved in disputes but he does like to watch. Is something going on at the House? Light feels a rumble rush through his gut like a cold wash. What’s happening?

“Just checking something.” He grunts. “Let’s head back to the car. You good to drive, Mello?”

“Yeah, sure!” Mello chirps.

Light tries texting L in the car.

[Did I miss something today?]

[Lawliet: No. Everything’s under control.]

Light can’t shake the tension in his gut.

That’s a strange answer, too knowing.

He has an awful feeling someone’s trying to pull something over his head.

“Mello,” he glances across the front seat, “did L have something planned for today?”

“Planned?” Mello blinks innocently.

“Did L put you up to getting me out of the House today?” Light stabs to the point of his suspicion.

“What? No!” Mello fumbles, obviously sincere. “Like I said, I just thought you’d be the best person to ask about—Actually, now you mention it, L did make some comment about your fashion sense that made me think you might agree to come hang out but—”

“Son of a bitch,” Light hisses.

“Should I--?” Mello hesitates.

“Just keep driving,” Light directs, dialling on his phone.

Phone pressed to his ear Light chews his lip.

There’s no point calling L.

If this is an L scheme than what’s the point of interrogating him over the phone?

“Sir?” Rodger answers.

“What’s L up to?” Light demands.

“Up to…?” Rodger instantly sounds worried, but he’s always hated getting in the middle of the two of them. He still might not know anything significant.

“What is L doing, right now?” Light rewords the question.

“He’s entertaining some guests.” Rodger reveals. “He’s locked his office but a little while ago some individuals did arrive to speak with him.”

“What did they look like?” Light presses.

“I don’t—”

“You saw them, Rodger. Use your head. This isn’t difficult.” Light snaps.

“I—” Rodger fumbles. “It was an older man, Asian. And a younger Asian girl, maybe Mello or Matt’s age. I assume they have something to do with L’s current case. Is that not the case…?”

Light swears under his breath.

What is L up to?

If he expects to have some say in which assets Light takes in at the House he’s got another thing fucking coming.

Light hangs up.

“Mello, the case you’re working on with L, is there any reason he’d be talking to some Asian civilians?” Light questions.

“Well we’re working on a few cases, but they’re in Paris and Seattle,” Mello answers. “I don’t think we have any related to—I mean we had one in Singapore, but we tied that up weeks ago.”

What does L think he’s achieving?

He’s never been above a scheme but usually he acts when he feels its necessary. Why does he feel this is necessary? All Light can imagine is that L’s found some young genius he wants them to take in. Which will, ultimately, end with Light doing the lion’s share of the work or another rival situation like Beyond and Able.

Whatever this is, Light’s ready for a fight.

Part of him knows he needs to be reasonable, maintain his mask, but the rest of him? Kira? Well L keeps telling him to let loose and really express himself, right? Maybe Light should really let him have it this time.

Light leaves Rodger to help Mello take the bags in from the garage to the House and stalks into the downstairs foyer alone. Ryuk is on the stairs, with a bag of chips, and obviously he’s been waiting for Light to come home.

“This is the part where you tell me what you know,” Light warns, planting one foot between Ryuk’s feet on the bottom step and leaning over the other threateningly.

“I don’t know shit,” Ryuk shrugs, “but I can smell blood in the water. Detective Fuckface is up to something, something he obviously wanted to spring on you, but I don’t know the specifics.”

Light chews.

“Thanks,” he grunts.

“Huh?” Ryuk tilts his head.

“If you hadn’t raised the alarm I’d be walking in totally blind so I guess I have to thank you.” Light snorts.

“It’s not a fair fight if you’re not ready to bite back,” Ryuk winks.

Ryuk might not be on anyone’s side but Light does owe him a little, just this once. In some small, tiny, way Ryuk did look out for his interests this time. He got Light a head start to get himself ready. He might have to convince Ryuk to take a wage after all.

Light doesn’t knock, he just lets himself into L’s office.

His eyes track across the room.

Teenage girl, maybe seventeen, and an older man just like Rodger said. They’re clean, well dressed, but more civilian chic than business formal. The girl spots him and seems, at once, to become excited.

“Why do I get the distinct feeling you’re up to something?” Light turns on L expectantly, closing the door behind himself.

“Maybe,” L shrugs nonchalantly, “but you’re very difficult to pin down when you want to be.”

“Well, are you going to introduce me?” Light supposes, leaning against the door.

“Are you going to sit down?” L invites.

“We’ll see,” Light tuts, “introductions first.”

“Light this is Soichiro Kagami and his daughter Sayu.” L gestures, teacup in his other hand, legs tucked up in his armchair. “They got in touch with Watari some time ago, but I only had a chance to follow up the correspondence recently.”

“Oh?” Light prompts. “And how can we help the Kagamis exactly?”

“Sayu was hoping to meet you personally,” Soichiro speaks up, clearing his throat. “We adopted her when she was a baby but—”

Light feels his stomach backflip.

Oh no.

“You’re my little sister,” Light digests, “that Sayu.”

“Yeah!” Sayu chirps, obviously on the precipice between excited and terrified. “I don’t have many memories from when I was that little, obviously, but ever since I realized you were out there somewhere, I’ve been begging Mum and Dad to find you so… yeah…” Sayu laughs nervously, rubbing at her scruff. “Surprise?”

Light laughs weakly, glancing at the floor for a moment.

Three distinct instincts wrestle in his gut.

He tries to pull out the best parts from each of them.

“I’m so sorry L’s wasted your time today.” Light replies.

“Huh?” Sayu blinks.

“Watari and I organized all those files,” Light continues, “it’s not really L’s business to get involved. If Watari hadn’t suddenly passed I’m sure he would’ve forwarded your information to me personally, so we could’ve avoided you coming all this way out. I am sorry for the trouble.”

“I don’t understand,” Soichiro sits up a little taller, papa bear instincts obviously activating. “Are you not Sayu’s brother?”

“I probably was, once,” Light answers, “but you and I both must understand Mister Kagami that Sayu is your daughter now. You’re a real family, you’ve been with her for her whole life, whatever genetic lottery connects Sayu and I pales in comparison to that genuine connection.”

Soichiro looks conflicted, like he agrees with Light but doesn’t know how to accept the statement without upsetting Sayu.

Sayu who is looking increasingly distressed.

“Sayu it seems like you have a wonderful family, I’m so glad,” Light assures her. “I hope it helps you to know I have a wonderful family too. But I don’t think there’s anything to gain from our association.”

“But…” Sayu wavers.

“You’re blood,” L speaks up, “filling in those gaps in your history might be good for you both. You might have more of a connection than you expect. You should at least try—”

“Do not tell me what I should do,” Light hisses warningly at L.

L pauses, lips pursing.

“Sayu, I don’t remember our parents and most of what I’ve seen on paper is unremarkable,” Light reveals. “You have a wonderful, loving, family and they should mean more to you than I ever will. I’m a stranger. My opinion, my presence, is irrelevant. You need to focus on the people who have always been by your side.”

“But—” Sayu warbles. “We didn’t make the choice to get split up!”

“No, but it happened,” Light rues. “And it’s probably for the best; look how well it turned out for us both.”

“I just—I want to get to know you!”

“No, you don’t,” Light tsks, “because I can assure you Sayu, I will never live up to your expectations of a big brother. I’m a very talented, very successful, man but I’m not a nice person and I don’t make connections with people I can’t exploit. That’s not pleasant and I’m sure, hearing that, Mister Kagami would never let you into such a one-sided relationship with anyone.”

Soichiro watches his face and, in it, Light catches some real understanding.

“You’re being dramatic,” L grunts. “If you’d stop insulting yourself for five minutes and consider Sayu’s desires, what’s best for you both, then—”

“L don’t make me say this any simpler,” Light snaps. “We all understand and the simpler my words get the more painful they become. Stop talking.”

“You’re a good person,” L growls. “You can have a meaningful connection with family just to have a meaningful connection. You deserve that. Sayu deserves that.”

“I don’t care about blood and I don’t care about the happiness of a stranger.” Light deadpans curtly. “I’m not interested in any person who doesn’t make me a profit. It’s that simple L. Good person, bad person; it doesn’t matter. I’m not interested.” 

Sayu cracks, breaking into tears.

Mister Soichiro clears his throat. “I think you’ve made your point.”

“Yes, of course, Mister Kagami,” Light shifts away from the door. “If you would wait in the foyer for me, I can get you both a car back into London right now. Do you have a hotel where you’ll be comfortable for the night?”

“Yes, we do, thank you.” Soichiro grumbles, patting Sayu’s sobbing back and helping hauling her to her feet.

“Just a moment,” Light bids.

“Light—” L growls, fingers digging into his calves aggressively.

“Stay out of it.” Light rounds back on him. “I’ll deal with you later.”

Chapter Text

Light apologizes again to Soichiro Kagami but Sayu is obviously too hysterical to take much of anything in. Soichiro, a Japanese police officer, seems sensible enough to explain this to her later. She’ll be fine. She’s a normal girl with a supportive family. Besides, ultimately? She’s not Light’s problem.

Stalking back into the House Light makes a beeline for L’s office.

He doesn’t restrain himself from slamming the door.

“You’re ridiculous,” L snaps, still coiled angrily.

“And you’ve got a lot of fucking nerve!” Light seethes.

“You’re not a super villain Light!” L barks. “You’re an emotionally constipated brat!”

“You’re right!” Light laughs bitterly. “And you’re right about other things too! I love you, I love the kids! But caring about people is hard for me! I can’t care about a stranger! Least of all when you spring it on me!”

“If you’d just trust me--!”

“I do trust you!” Light seethes. “But you need to listen to me! I have a family! I have a home! I’m happy! I don’t need strangers!”

“I just—”

“You just need to talk to me!” Light booms. “You don’t get to make unilateral decisions for both of us! This is exactly what I was scared of! This is exactly what I mean when I say you try to treat me like a sidekick!”

L’s shoulders sag.

L glares at his knees, chewing it all.

“I’m going to calm down.” Light huffs. “Don’t follow me until you’re ready to apologize for this obscene stunt.”

Light slams the office door shut after himself again as he stalks back into the foyer.

Ryuk, Mello and Near are all sitting on the stairs. Ryuk looks nonchalant but the boys are wide eyed and stunned. 

Near opens his mouth, obviously packed full of questions, but—

“Move.” Light hisses.

The children scamper out of his way and Light trudges up the stairs.

The boys will probably ask L what happened.

Light doesn't much care what L tells them.

Light throws himself on his bed, burying himself in the sheets. He’s so angry. Angry L tried to make such an important decision for him. Angry L sprung something like that on him. Angry he had to have such a stupid conversation with hysterical strangers.

He doesn’t care Sayu was upset. He doesn’t know Sayu. And, yes, maybe that’s not a normal reaction but that’s how Light feels and trying to expect him to feel anything different is almost cruel. He is what he is and he’s trying not to apologise about that anymore but if L wants him to be ‘be himself’ than L needs to accept what that self looks like and its limitations.

He loves Mello, Near, Matt…

But he raised them.

He doesn’t know Sayu form a hole in the wall. Why is it fair to expect him to upturn his whole, happy, life for someone he’s never even missed?

Knock-knock.

“It’s open!” Light snaps.

It’s a little too soon to be L, he suspects.

“So then,” Ryuk saunters in, sprawling on the bed next to Light. “Want to fill me in? What happened?”

“Ugh,” Light strains. “It was a disaster.”

“He want you to take in some kid?” Ryuk asks, folding his hands behind his head.

“I wish!” Light huffs, lifting his head out of his forearms. “He wanted me to play house with my long lost sister.”

Ryuk laughs.

“It’s not funny.” Light hisses.

“It’s kind of funny.” Ryuk counters.

Light buries his face back in his arms.

“He’s really not taking the old man dying well,” Ryuk grunts, “is he?”

“Huh?” Light hesitates.

“Duh,” Ryuk snorts, as if it’s obvious. “You think it just gave you an existential crisis?”

“What’re you talking about?” Light demands.

“You’re dealing with this whole thing one way, trying to pull that stick out of your ass before you really do snap and kill someone from having to play a Stepford Wife all the time,” Ryuk grunts, “but Detective Fuckface was with the old man all time the time, every day, from what Mello says, and now he’s having to act as an independent adult. Which is probably terrifying enough but you’re the only other person he respects, clearly, and every time he tries to cling to you? You freak out and push him away.”

Light freezes.

Light’s brain ticks over for a few seconds.

He feels like he’s overheating.

“He’s making bad decisions because he’s in pain,” Light computes, like he just got slapped in the face.

“Yeah.” Ryuk quirks.

It’s so obvious.

“Ryuk,” he glances, baffled. “When did you get a braincell?”

“Not sure,” Ryuk shrugs nonchalantly.

“Why didn’t you tell me this earlier?” Light reels.

“You’re the genius, I thought you just didn’t care,” Ryuk grunts.

“Ugh!” Light screams into his pillows. “Damn it Ryuk! Now I have to apologize!”

Ryuk laughs at him.

“Son of a bitch…” Light cusses, pulling himself off the bed. “Get out of my room, shoo!”

“Okay! Okay! God…” Ryuk complains.

Light swears into his hands. Fuck. Fuck shit fuck. Groaning Light rests his forehead against L’s door, contemplating the handle. He always hates this. He and L have always avoided apologizing to each other, ever since they were small, they just both hate to lose so much. It’s probably why, as children, they joined forces against others so often. Because it was easier to fight other people than each other. Too many weapons, too much insight, too much ego… As much as they thrill to argue with each other they can devastate each other in unique ways.

Light takes a deep breath.

“It’s open!” L calls irritably.

Cussing Light opens the door.

“Remembered something else you want to yell at me about?” L rues sprawled on the bed with his phone in hand.

Light climbs onto the mattress taking L’s phone out of his hand and putting it on the bedside table.

“I’m not ready to apologize, even if you’re right,” L warns petulantly.

“I know,” Light murmurs, “but you need to come here.”

“Why…?” L hesitates.

“Because I’m starting to think I should give you a pass on that apology, just this once,” Light murmurs, “because I’m starting to think you need a hug more than I need an apology.”

L falls very quiet.

Light lays back, against the pillows, and opens his arms.

L doesn’t need more permission than that to secure his arms like vices around Light’s hips and bury his face in Light’s stomach. Light curls his hands around him, stroking that thick, tousled, hair gently.

“I’m sorry,” Light whispers, “you’re in a lot of pain, aren’t you?”

“I wouldn’t…” L hesitates, obviously debating his options. “Yes.” He admits slowly, surrendering to the truth of it now they’re alone, together, and Light is willing to listen.

“I’m sorry,” Light cradles his head in his hands.

“I’m just…” L sighs, arms never easing their vicious grip around him. “What if I lost you too? I’d be all alone. There are lots of people I care about, honestly, but very few people who understand me, who I respect, who I need…”

Light, for once, tries to shut up.

“I miss Able, I miss Beyond, I miss Watari,” L murmurs sombrely, “but you leave me Light I don’t think I could cope. You don’t have to be with me every second but if we couldn’t be active, present, parts of each other’s lives, I think… I don’t think I could handle that.”

Light rubs his back.

“I didn’t used to mind so much, when you slept with other people,” L admits, “but nowadays I just… I worry. You don’t care about them but what if you find someone you do start to care about? What if I lose you to someone less difficult? What if I have to share you? I’m greedy. I don’t want to share you. I know I’m special in your life, I know no one can replace me, but I don’t want anyone to outrank me either.”

Light digests for a moment, considering his words carefully.

“I’m not going anywhere,” he promises.

He’s a vicious animal. When he’s held too tightly he panics but, at the same time, he understands L’s instinct right now is to hold on for dear life. He’s lost one of the most crucial people in his life. He…

“Grab me with both hands,” Light murmurs, “crush me. Don’t let me go.”

“But—” L lifts his head.

“I want you.” Light promises. “More than anyone. But my instinct is to keep a wall between myself and everyone around me, even you. Don’t let me.”

“So what am I supposed to do?” L snorts, tired.

“Let me scream, let me kick, just don’t let go.” Light whispers. “Cause as much fuss as I make I won’t run away from you. Deep down I never want to leave you.”

“Are you sure…?” L whispers.

“Silence my thoughts,” Light whispers, “just hold me tight.”

L takes that in for a moment, mapping the corners of Light’s face in the dull of his darkened bedroom, and then, surging up, pulls Light under him.

Light feels a surge of panic, instinctive and wild, run through him. It’s a natural resistance. He shies away from being pinned as much as some wicked part of his core craves it. He wants to kick, to squirm, but he tries, for L, to trust and hold still.

L kisses him, hard and deep, mouths locking.

Light embraces the way his brain shuts off.

The fear is still there but the scheming is gone.

He can’t fathom a counterattack when L kisses him.

L kisses him ceaselessly. He seems to sense the weakness, the chink in Lights’ armour, or maybe he can literally feel the way Light’s heartrate slows under his hands when they kiss.

Light’s hands fumble over his face, hiccup through his hair, and L fights to strip them, slow and steady, without their lips every being more than a few centimetres apart.

Skin, so much skin…

Light’s certainly no virgin, let’s be clear, but there’s something different about crawling into bed with someone he perceives as an equal. Light has fucked pretty toys, people he can destroy with a curl of his fist, but L won’t be so easily ripped apart even if Light retaliates.

There’s a very real chance L could hurt him back, destroy him.

That’s terrifying.

Light’s head rattles with that feeling but L is also, well, L.

L who’s always looked out for him, L who’s always met him on a level playing field, L who’s always understood him…

Light curls his arms around L, grasping at his bony shoulder blades, tasting L’s last peppermint tea on his tongue as the detective’s tongue slides into his mouth again.

God, why is there so much skin between them?

Every time they slide against each other, brushing and imprinting, another braincell flickers off like a bulb in Light’s head.

He tries to embrace it.

But he suspects some things will only get easier with practice.

He trusts L, he does, but Kira doesn’t trust anyone.

L kisses down is neck, hand working up and down his thigh, warm and calloused.

“I think that was the first time,” L murmurs.

“Huh?” Light peaks out from around his panic.

“Today, when you screamed at me,” L tries to explain, “I think that’s the first time I’ve ever heard you say you loved anyone. Let alone said it and meant it. Said you loved me.”

“I do,” Light whispers, “you piss me off, but I love you.”

“I love you,” L promises, “you’re inescapable. I can’t ignore you. You can be sitting in a room, perfectly quiet, and you’re screaming at me to pay attention to you.”

Light draws him back, kiss wetter, slower, and L kneads his hip against the bed.

“I want to give you my complete attention.” L warns, kissing his clavicle like he’s plucking a string.

Light moans, thoughts and thighs decidedly gooey as L kisses down his chest.

Air.

He needs air.

But everything is hot and tight.

His lungs, his guts, his fingers…

He swallows, letting his head slump back.

Is this what sex feels like when you actually care about someone? Is this love over desire? Is this what all those stupid civilians were prattling on about in their gaudy love songs? God no wonder they never shut up.

L’s hand drags up over his knee, batting his legs apart lazily, and Light tries to blink at the ceiling as it slides back between his legs and strokes over his cock.

“Fuck…” Light hisses.

“Can I…?”

“Don’t ask.” Light reminds.

“The act isn’t option, just the position,” L clarifies. “I need to be so tangled up in you they can’t tell us apart.”

“It—” Light moans, stuffing his knuckles into his mouth but L batts his hand away and keeps stroking. “Fuck—Ah—Fuck me. It’ll be easiest.”

“Stay still.” L orders, like some doctor to a patient.

Light’s legs slide shut, instinctively, but L pries them apart again and settling between his thighs again with a bottle of lubricant starts working him open on those clever fingers.

One…

“Fuck,” Light hisses.

Two…

“God, fuck…” Light presses the heels of his palms into his eye sockets, trying to focus.

Three…

He can’t stop moving his hips, rocking into the slick thrusts.

“Please,” Light hisses. “L…”

“Comere,” L tugs him up.

L sits them on the edge of the bed, Light in his lap, and pulling him down—

Light lets the moan rip through him from his gut as he sinks down onto L with a little encouragement. God, yes, of course the genius has a perfect cock. Damn it. That’s not fair. He might never get anything done again.

L rocks Light on his cock, Light tries to help but his thighs are such jelly all he can really do is get fucked while he kisses every ruffled, sunken, corner of L’s old fashioned face. He’s like a fucking baroque painting, the asshole.

Light moans. He hates the sounds coming out of him right now but he can’t control them. He can’t control anything. He is, for the first time, so impossibly helpless.

“I love you,” L whispers.

“Ugh, fuck,” Light holds him tight, pulled down hard on his cock.

“Come on, Light,” L teases. “Don’t make me beg.”

“Wha—? Aah,” Light purrs as L bounces them together again. “You too. I—You too.”

“Full sentences,” L tuts, lifting him up and yanking him down with a little more urgency.

“I—Fuck—you—I—”

“Technically,” L nibbles his jaw, “I’m fucking you.”

“I love you too,” Light garbles, head rolling back. “Fuck, fuck…”

“You going to cum with me then?” L murmurs, voice tighter.

“Yeah, yeah…” Light pants hurriedly.

“Spasm around my cock and let me fill you up?”

“I—Oh fuck!” Light yelps in a strangled voice and L yanks him down hard on his shaft.

Light cums in tremors, whiting out behind his eye lids.

He feels L thrusting up into him, hard, unloading heat and slick cum but he’s such a tangled mess he can barely keep himself upright between the spasms.

L pulls them both back onto the bed, slumping together.

Light feels like he ate a rat in the night.

He’s sore and sticky.

Hs hair is stuck to his forehead.

But L is warm and snoring nasally tucked against his back so it’s not all bad.

Light rubs his face, smacking his lips together. Lord what did he swallow? His mouth tastes like ass. Light eases up onto his elbow and scratches his head weakly.

“More sleep, less sit.” L grunts, eyes never opening.

“I have work.”

“Call in sick.” L orders.

“You can’t call in sick to parenting,” Light argues, shuffling to sit on the edge of the bed.

L rolls onto his back, cracking one eyelid open begrudgingly.

“Those kids love you,” he whispers croakily.

“I know,” Light yawns.

“Do you really not love them?” L wonders, no judgement laced in his voice.

“I love them, I think, but in my way.” Light sighs. “Just like I love you in my own awful way.”

“Right,” L grins, eyes shutting again.

“Another day, more to win, right?” Light laughs weakly.

“World won’t conquer itself, Mister Kingmaker.” L agrees.

Light smiles, tired but satisfied.

“I’m sorry about that stunt yesterday,” L murmurs.

“It’s alright, I’m sorry for not realizing sooner you were hurting,” Light rues. “But you’ll fuck up again and I’ll miss an emotional cue again and we’ll work it all out again. Over and over.”

“For always,” L nods sleepily.

This isn't always going to be easy, them together.

But, Light must confess, it's worth it.