Of all tyrannies, a tyranny exercised for the good of its victims may be the most oppressive. It may be better to live under robber barons than under omnipotent moral busybodies. The robber baron's cruelty may sometimes sleep, his cupidity may at some point be satiated; but those who torment us for our own good will torment us without end, for they do so with the approval of their own conscience. –C.S. Lewis

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The chain linked them.

Not but because it was a chain, hooked from one wrist to another, but also because it was them being chained together. Two geniuses with similar and yet opposite views. The chain was what held them together, both of them. Raito was a strong, confident individual who, if not restrained, would have no problem walking away and never coming back. Ryuuzaki was apathetic and wealthy, and the two combined made for an easy escape route.

With the chain, 78 round links stopping them from moving too far from each other, make it impossible to run. They would run too, from each other, from the attraction that was ever so slowly manifesting itself inside their very bones as they spent their days in the same room, and their nights in the same bed. The chain, a leash perhaps, holding the pet to his master (although it was never declared who took which role) kept them from running and hiding, and kept them ever so close to each other, until they recognized the others very scent.

And so, it was perhaps inevitable, that they should form a relationship of sorts during this era of secure proximity, for they slept in the same bed after all. It was only a matter of time, only a matter of pride and whose pride fell first, that kept them from screwing each other from the very beginning. As much as it was sexual, it was also intellectual, and they were the only pair that could ever make sex logical.

Ryuuzaki calculated where Raito liked to be touched and how hard and how much, Raito analyzed the gasps for breath that came from Ryuuzaki’s lips. Hands moved passionately but mechanically, thinking through every touch as they slid up and down bodies. Sex, for them, was an arrangement, a compromise, a negotiation. Because both knew that their relationship was nothing more, and could be nothing more than that.

Because Ryuuzaki had taken away Raito’s freedom. And Raito just might be Kira.

The chain linked them.

Not only did it link Ryuuzaki and Raito together in a tangled web of passion and confusion, but also Kira and L, their counterparts. Although, when it began, Raito had to consciousness of being Kira, he was Kira all the same, and Ryuuzaki was L, the annoying, frustrating detective who was trying to put him in jail for a crime –or rather, many crimes –that he didn’t commit.

They hated each other. It was not love that drove their sex, but hatred that they never showed on the surface. Raito’s hatred for his lost liberty and L’s hatred for Kira being just out of his grasp the entire time.

It was the definition of their association, the subtle friendliness that they treated each other with, with tiny ‘Thank you’s and ‘Your right’s with that small layer of underlying malice. Miniscule taunts unable to be distinguished by the naked eyes, or in this case, the normal mind. Rude jabs followed by gracious compliments, and then perhaps an accusation of Raito’s identity as Kira, which he was outraged to be called.

“You called me a ‘Adolescent fool with no sense of right and wrong’, Raito-kun,” L had told him that afternoon, while sipping his tea and wiggling his toes, “That sounds like something Kira would say, I’m afraid. He feels that my sense of justice is corrupt, as do you. That raises my suspicion.”

“I’m not Kira, Ryuuzaki!” Raito cried angrily, glaring at L piercingly, “What you were suggesting was unjust, and I’m actually surprised that you would think of such a thing. I thought you were supposed to be a great detective. I suppose I overestimated you”

L’s jaw clenched and his hands curled into fists, he loathed being taken so lightly, but instead of retaliating he turned back to his computer and plotted his revenge with a calm face. They didn’t fight physically anymore. Instead, when one got on the others nerves, it was their assumed right to screw the other into the mattress roughly that night, and basically do whatever they liked. It was predictable and unavoidable for them to have conflict, so they settled it in a noninvasive way, however profane.

That night, of course, to get back for the comment, L tackled Raito to the bed, shoving his face into the pillow, suffocating him until Raito was sure he would pass out, but then he was allowed up, gasping for air. L turned his head painfully to the side as he panted and L gave his a sloppy kiss on the mouth as he yanked Raito’s pants to his knees with one tug. He unzipped his own pants, and Raito sucked in his breath before attempting to speak.

“Wait a second, Ryu –Ah!” With a loud grunt, Raito was penetrated dry, and his position was humiliating. His face, still shoved into the pillow with is face turned to the side, but his knees on the bed, making his bottom poke up into the air obscenely. “Shit…oh fuck…”

Something had ripped, he was sure of it, damn Ryuuzaki.

But the pain was soon overthrown by hard, brutal thrusts against his prostate, making him forget the pain of the initial plunge. He soon was a writhing pile must underneath fingers that wrapped for tightly around his throbbing shaft and the continuous pounding against that certain spot inside him. He fisted the sheets and moaned into the pillow, trying to keep the repeatedly spilling noises to a minimum. They were truly undignified.

It had never been like this before. Never been this rough, either of them, but Raito couldn’t say he disliked it in the least. Nails bit into his nipples and he cry out, his neck arching jerking at the sharp biting sensation added to the intense feeling. The way he was enjoying it, it was almost masochistic, but at the same time, he knew he would have no problem doing the same and worse to L.

L gave his penis a strong yank as he dove in again hard against that fucking spot again and Raito gasped and jerked as he felt himself spilling over the edge with a strangled scream of ecstasy. When he went limp, L grasped his hip, plowing into him a few more times before also giving a cry of barely concealed pleasure.

Breathing erratically, Raito said softly, “I didn’t think you…had it in you…Ryuuzaki…”

“Oh? You thought I was too kind to do such a thing?” L inquired, and Raito gave a dull nod with the last bit of his strength, “Well, I suppose you overestimated me…”

Their acts of vengeance mixed with sex were mutual. L would purposely irritate him, telling him constantly that he was probably Kira and it got on Raito’s nerves. He was no mass murderer! He hated that Ryuuzaki could literally screw him on moment and figuratively screw him the next. What kind of relationship was that?

A strange one, really, but an equal one. Because then Raito fucked Ryuuzaki into a wall mercilessly, and whispered ‘Does the fact that you’re in pain and I don’t care raise the percentage, Ryuuzaki?’ before thrusting in violently once more, making L’s nails dig into his shoulders and his head to bang against the wall.

But not all of it was resentful. Sometimes it was softer, more polite and not angry. Sometimes the sex grew so slow and sensual that it moved farther away from ‘fucking’ and closer and closer to ‘lovemaking’. When the sex wasn’t rancorous, when neither had done anything to deserve a punishment, the sex was used as not a release of frustration, but as a tool of forgiveness.

In these times, no words would be spoken. Because neither could say truly ‘I forgive you’ if the other had not apologized, which neither of them were planning on doing. So instead they just held tight to one another and moved sweaty bodies against each other, entering, breaching, letting out grunts and choked whimpers.

For L, it was Raito saying ‘I’m sorry for being Kira’ and he was saying ‘I forgive you’.

For Raito, it was L saying ‘I’m sorry for thinking you’re Kira’ and he was saying in return ‘I forgive you’.

Perhaps, in the end, all of their sex was about forgiveness. Even when it was supposed to be punishment, revenge, or any other bitter reason, it was also about forgiveness. When one of them did something wrong, they had hard, fast, almost cruel sex and then all was absolved. After that night, they didn’t dwell on it anymore, because all was pardoned, and finding Kira was more important than petty arguments. All their sex, each thrust, each cry, each scratch, each pant, each climax…it was all about forgiveness.

If it couldn’t be about love, then they supposed that was good enough.

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Ever since he let out that scream in the helicopter, he’d never really stopped screaming. His mouth was closed, his voice box was unused, but he was still screaming. Because somehow, somehow, he’d become attached to that freak, that annoying, crazy, slippery little obstacle! It was not love, but it had the potential to be, and that just couldn’t happen. He wouldn’t allow it to happen.

But he kept on having sex with the bastard, he kept on screwing him and letting himself be screwed and –god damnit! –why didn’t he just stop? It would be easy! The chain was off, but still he stayed, like a good little boyfriend, touching and kissing and –ugh-it was disgusting but it wasn’t. It wasn’t, and he hated that it wasn’t.

“Your eyes…” L told him once, and Raito had just smiled arrogantly and said ‘What about them?’ “They’re different…colder…”

“Oh?” Raito had frowned.

L smirked, “You were expecting a compliment?”

“Would that be so bad?”

“Well, sorry,” L continued to give him that tiny little condescending smile, “Your eyes are gorgeous, Raito-kun.”

“Thank you.”

…

“But they are still different.”

L’s eyes were different too, kinder, and their vengeful sexual encounters became fewer and instead they held onto each other almost desperately in their almost-not-really-lovemaking. As though L knew he would not be there long, and as though Raito knew it too (which he actually did) and was sorry.

Because Raito still had to kill him, and L still had to die.

Even though, throughout every night of hot encounters, Raito’s feelings morphed closer and closer to love, he would never admit it. Sure, there were things about Ryuzaki he loved. He loved the way he squirmed under his touch, he loved every bead of sweat that formed on his body, he loved his messy just-shagged raven hair, loved the way his lean body arched against his own, he loved his gentle yet ruthless persona. He loved his brilliant mind, and he found that he even loved the way he sat in that awkward squat, the way he held things, the way he ate only sugary food, the way he was so gauche in all things social, the way he bit on his thumb so suggestively…

Yes, he loved all that, but he certainly didn’t love him.

And even if he did, he didn’t.

At the same time he was going through this internal conflict, he was cautiously planning L’s death, because he would not let his inner turmoil conflict with his goal. L wasn’t worth it, no matter what his feelings, and Raito constantly reminded himself that he wasn’t doing this for himself. He was doing this for the world! The world needed him, to perfect it, to cleanse it, to rule it…and he could not betray his world.

L, of course, was going through the same sort of troubling, contradicting thoughts. He felt strong feelings for Raito, but there were questions, so many questions. Did Raito feel them back? Was he Kira? If he was Kira, did he feel them back anyways? If he was Kira, and felt it back, would L want him to? If he wasn’t Kira and didn’t feel it back, would L be able to take it? If he wasn’t Kira, and did feel it back, did L even want him? In more than a sexual way, did he want him?

He didn’t know, and he didn’t want to settle into such distracting thoughts lest he never escape them and fall behind on the Kira case. Which could even be Raito’s plan.

If he were Kira –to lull L into almost feeling something irrevocable, until he had no choice but to be overwhelmed by uncertain thoughts, making him grow less careful and unfocused, making his more prone to mistakes. That way Kira (Raito) would have a smaller chance of being caught.

Suspicion, paranoia, attraction and uncertainty were a deadly combination, that when mixed perfectly could cause everything to blow up in your face.

Their feelings linked them.

“Raito-kun,” L said one day, while lying in bed. Raito groaned, still worn out from leaving a permanent indent of his silhouette in the mattress, and rolled over sleepily.

“What is it?”

“Have you ever read Dante’s Inferno?”

Raito blinked, and then sighed, “No. But you have?”

“Yes, I find it quite interesting,” L replied, nodding, “In it, it says there are nine circles of Hell.”

“I didn’t take you for a religious person,” Raito snorted, running a hand through his hair as L looked down at him from his sitting position, while Raito lay there on his side. The youth propped himself up on his elbow.

“Oh?” L raised an eyebrow, “I don’t know. I do not practice, but I do believe in a Heaven and a Hell, although perhaps not as Dante describes it.”

“You do?” Raito asked, surprised and amused. Interesting; this was perhaps the only time that L had ever been wrong. And of course, Raito was comforted by the fact he knew something L didn’t.

“Yes,” L responded, “I have to.”

“You have to?”

“Yes,” L repeated, scratching one foot with the other, “Because, Raito-kun, I cannot catch everyone. I would like to, but as you know, my interest must be peeked. That is not because I am merely picky, although I assure that is part of the reason, but also because if I grow bored of a case, my will to finish it diminishes and it will never be solved.”

“What does that have to do with Heaven and Hell?”

“I’m getting there,” L looked at him passively, “Because I cannot catch everyone, I believe that it is a comfort that even though humans cannot punish everyone, in the end there are ultimate consequences.”

Raito gave a small smile, “Divine consequences.”

“Yes,” L nodded, and then Raito spoke again.

“So, you wouldn’t mind if you never found Kira?” Raito inquired casually, “Because you know, when he dies, he’ll go to hell?”

“No,” L said quickly, with a hard voice that stunned Raito a bit, although he didn’t show it, “Kira is different; I want to catch him. I need to catch him. I have no comfort with him.”

Raito’s eyes widened, and he said aloud what it was L meant, “You mean…You don’t have the comfort that Kira will go to Hell because…because he’s killing criminals. You’re not sure if he’s really doing would qualify him for hell…right?”

“I must admit that it has crossed my mind,” L said softly, “Although, I am 77 percent sure he will go to Hell should he die, that is not enough. Because if I do not catch him…if I don’t and he goes to Heaven, then…”

“I see,” Raito nodded, removing his elbow from its supporting position and rolling onto his back, looking at the ceiling and sighing. “I still would have pegged you for an atheist.”

“Oh, I don’t believe in God, Raito-kun,” L said, making Raito’s eyes dart back over to the detective, “I never said that. And omnipotent being? No, that is not what I believe.”

“But you do believe in Heaven and Hell?”

“Yes. I suppose my beliefs are quite complicated. They do not fit into one common category.”

“Just like everything else about you, I suppose.”

The corner of L’s mouth lifted around his thumb.

The very essence of Raito told him that L was in love with him. And he could use that. He could have, but he didn’t, but he wanted to. But he didn’t.

Nothing was simple anymore. It used to be. He was God, and L was going against God, and so he deserved to die. It was clear and easy, but now everything had gotten so complex. He still had to kill L, he still had to, but –God, he didn’t want to.

His insides felt like they were being torn from the inside out, his heart was being stomped on, his brain being set on fire and everything else was just falling apart. It was painful, torturous, and he so badly wanted forgiveness for what he would soon do, but he couldn’t ask. So instead, he pushed L into the bed and had fervent, ardent sex with him, made love to him and looked into his eyes and just communicated it to him that he was so, so sorry.

He was so fucking sorry.

But he would do it anyways. He had to. There was no choice. Between L and his world he would choose his world because anything else was unimaginable, so undeniably selfish. He felt one hand grasped by L and the only grasped by the world and they were tugging, heaving, pulling, stretching him in the opposite direction. He felt like the world, the stronger obviously of the wrenching options, was taking him further away from what he really wanted.

It was painful, so agonizingly painful, and it scraped his soul raw.

Because ever since he let out that scream in the helicopter, he’d never really stopped screaming.

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L knew.

The way Raito had so tenderly made love to him the look in his eyes…it was a goodbye. He knew that he would kill L soon, and now L knew it too. It was depressing, but somehow predictable. He’d known, always, that Raito was Kira, in some tiny part of his mind. But the emotions had blocked it too entirely that he’d found himself hoping beyond hoping that he was wrong. And he knew then, when he hoped he was wrong, that he was right.

L was never wrong.

The day before L was supposed to die, he thought about how he could prove Raito was Kira. He had to have slipped up somewhere. He couldn’t be perfect, he told himself, but he knew that wasn’t true. Raito was perfect; but Kira wasn’t, and that’s who he was trying to catch. If he caught Raito in the process, then…then that was unfortunate.

He had to think. Which was terribly hard with Raito touching him the way that he was, with a certain hot, wet mouth covering a certain sensitive part of his anatomy…

Bad thoughts. Okay. Right, Kira. Catching Kira. How was he going to do that? How was he going to stop him…?

God, the last thing he wanted him to do at the moment was stop…

L found he’d gotten off track again. It was easy for that to happen when you were being given head by the man you were attempting to catch. Raito refused to let L give him head anymore, around the same time his eyes had turned colder, and now that L thought about it, probably about the time he’d become Kira…again. It was obvious to L why Raito wouldn’t let him go down on him.

He was paranoid.

Raito actually thought L would bite him.

While L did admit the idea crossed his mind when he was particularly angry, it was not something he would actually ever do, especially when Raito could and would return the favor. And while he was also paranoid, he was probably not as much so as Raito was, which was bizarre, considering his dangerous occupation. But, L thought as he dug his fingers into Raito’s hair and bucked his hips to go further into that mouth, he supposed it had to do less with paranoia and more with how much he enjoyed the ministrations currently because applied to his lower half…

And then, it hit him. He had an epiphany –and a climax, but that was beside the point – and he suddenly knew just what Raito’s weakness was. It was his paranoia! He was troublesomely, unreasonably mistrustful of everything, from people to even situations. He would always have a backup plan, and so, in the earliest stages of being Kira, he had probably brought a little of the Death Note with him. Although Rem would not attest to the scraps being able to kill people, L just knew it was so.

And so, the next day, just hours before Raito had scheduled for Rem to have her realization and then in turn kill L, he was suddenly told to stand up. He blinked and looked at Ryuzaki, who had given the request.

“Why?”

“Please, Raito-kun, just do so,” L said, looking at Raito up and down.

He didn’t wear the same clothes two days in a row, ever. If his cleanliness and fashion sense was anything to go by, then he wouldn’t wear the same underwear either. So that took away that option of where he might be hiding tiny little scraps of the death paper. His shoes? No, they also changed from day to day, and would be easy to find, if just left tucked away in the sole somewhere. Raito would be more careful than that.

“What’s this about, Ryuzaki?” Raito’s brow furrowed in confusion, and Soichiro and the rest of the team started to gather around.

Then, as L’s eyes traveled down to his wrist, he saw it –the watch! Raito always had the watch with him, he’d even had it when Higuchi died! L held back a small smile and held out a hand.

“May I see your watch, Raito-kun?”

Raito looked surprised, and reluctant to hand it over. “What? Why?”

“I believe you have something hidden in it,” L replied easily, flapping his fingers in a ‘give it’ manner.

“Not this again, Ryuuzaki!” Soichiro cried, brow creasing with anger in a way that reminded L of Raito. It was perhaps the only superficial characteristic they shared. “You cleared Raito! This has to stop.”

“If there is nothing hidden there,” L said coolly, “Than there is nothing to worry about.”

Finally, the watch was handed to him, and he messed with it for a few seconds, figuring out how to open it, and finally the bottom came loose. There was a moment of tense silence as L stared at the contents of his hand.

Matsuda broke it.

“…Well?”

“I apologize,” L cleared is throat, seeing nothing in his hand but parts of a watch. “Thank you for humoring me.”

He put it back together and handed it back to Raito, who was obviously holding back a smirk. L frowned at the expression. Raito was trying to hold back a smirk; he’d taken out the paper with Higuchi written on it days ago.

He turned away to sit back in his chair, and L was still staring at him, his gaze burning him like a laser beam. L’s eyes drifted down to Raito butt –for purely detective-ly reasons of course –and saw the small bulge in Raito’s right pants pocket, just over his right butt cheek, and yet again felt brilliant with another revelation. He also brought his wallet almost everywhere too.

“Raito-kun, one more thing, I’m afraid,” Ryuuzaki said, just as Raito was about to sit down. Raito paused and stood back up straight, looking at Ryuuzaki inquisitively. “Your wallet, please?”

Raito felt himself tense.

“What?”

“Your wallet,” Ryuuzaki continued, raising an eyebrow behind black bangs, “May I see it please?”

“Look, Ryuuzaki, I’m not sure what your looking for, but –” Raito started, trying to look confused.

“Yes, I believe you do,” L looked over at Raito’s father, who was looking at his son strangely. He’d apparently noticed the defensive attitude he suddenly had. “Yagami-san. Do you agree? Like I said before, if he has nothing to hide, then he had nothing to loose…”

“Raito…” Soichiro looked at Raito, who clenched his fists. He felt the rest of the team member’s eyes on him as well. “I think you should listen to Ryuuzaki. I know it’s frustrating, but if you ever want to clear your name…”

“But it’s outrageous!” Raito declared angrily, “He wants me to be Kira! Why would he do this now, after all this time, after all I’ve done to prove that I’m not him if not?”

“On the contrary, Raito-kun, I hope I am wrong,” L told him, large eyes piercing him, “But I do not think that I am.”

Raito just glared, hands in fists, eyes narrowed.

“Please, Raito-kun, hand me your wallet.”

…

“No.”

Ryuuzaki’s eyes widened imperceptibly. He’d known right when Raito had started spouting the cliché lines about him wanting Raito to be Kira that he’d got him. And now, outright refusing to give him his wallet?

Gotcha.

“I see,” L replied, “Aizawa-san, please hold Raito-kun while Yagami-san takes his wallet.”

Aizawa, by this point, was already increasingly suspicious by Raito’s unusual actions. He stepped forward and grabbed Raito’s arms firmly, and the boy surprisingly didn’t struggle. At first.

Raito felt something cold coiling in the pit of his stomach, a knot forming there of tight apprehension. He was so engulfed by this feeling –was it fear? –that he barely felt Aizawa restrain him. But he did, however, feel his dad touch his arm with one hand and start to reach into his pocket with the other, and it set him off.

“Let go of me,” Raito snarled, kicking and squirming. Aizawa held on tight, keeping his arms in place as he struggled, and Soichiro retrieved the wallet easily. “Dad! Stop, don’t encourage Ryuuzaki’s crazy theories!”

Soichiro looked at his son, “Raito, why are you acting like this? You acting like…like you’re…”

“Guilty,” L finished, plucking the wallet from Soichiro’s hands with his index finger and thumb and opening it up, and checking the pockets. He found only a few hundred yen and a student ID. Then he looked for smaller things, and found it –small little seam that wasn’t noticeable unless you were looking for it. “Ah.”

He looked up, over the leather of the wallet and up at Raito, who had frozen in Aizawa’s grip. He looked almost terrified for a split second, his eyes widening, his pupils dilating, his mouth opening.

L gave a small smile and reached over in the desk, rummaging around through the office supplies, looking for scissors. He found them and lifted them up, holding them in his normally strange way, and cut open the seam. He threw the scissors onto the desk, and slipped his slim finger inside the opening and pulled out…

…a piece of paper.

“I-Is that…!?” Soichiro started, snatching it out of his hand and looking at Raito frantically, “Raito –this –”

“It’s just a piece of paper, dad,” Raito told him, and he had to stop to keep his voice from shaking. How could this happen to him? Everything had been going to plan. Rem was watching from the other side of the room with morbid fascination.

“Stop lying,” Soichiro growled, grabbing the front of Raito’s shirt and hauling him forward, “This is a piece of that –of that book, Raito, and you – you –”

“You are Kira,” L said, and was relieved that he finally said it and the people in the task force listened.

“It –Raito, you –” Matsuda stammered. Mogi began to approach Aizawa from behind, whispering into his ear, ‘I’ll take Raito, you take Yagami-san. Raito will be easier for me.’

Mogi grabbed Raito, and Aizawa then restrained Soichiro, whose vein was popping in his forehead and he was sweating and turning red. He pulled against Aizawa, but the younger man was stronger and held him tight, just as Mogi held Raito. Although Raito was held still by his intense shock and dread.

Everything came crashing down around him, an anvil landed on his chest and he had to forced his lungs to accept air. He was caught. He was fucking caught. God damnit! What was this about? How had this happened? Yesterday he’d had L wrapped around his bloody finger and today L was fucking outing him! No, no, no, no, NO! He would be sentenced to death now, death! He didn’t want to die, he didn’t want to die!

“A confession is no longer needed,” L told him, taking a breath, “Aizawa-san, please escort Yagami-san home. I believe that having him here will only cause problems, and probably harm to our perpetrator.”

“Yes, Ryu –” Aizawa began.

“He’s my son! I deserve to stay here!” Soichiro yelled furiously, trying to yank away from Aizawa as he was pulled toward the door, “Raito! Raito, you –your –please tell me, Raito! Please tell me you’re at least sorry!”

“I’m sorry, dad,” Raito said, and Soichiro’s face was so hopeful as he was dragged out the door and out of sight. L looked at Raito, and spoke to him.

“What a sweet lie, Raito-kun,” L said, “But then, you were always were good at that, weren’t you?”

Raito merely glared heatedly, not able to say what he wanted to in front of Mogi and Matsuda. Thankfully, Watari must have seen everything on the monitors, because he was soon rushing into the room and taking Mogi’s place behind Raito and clipping handcuffs onto him.

“What now?” Matsuda asked, dejected and showing it with a slump and the forlorn face.

“I want you too to report to headquarters, tell them that we have apprehended Kira,” L told the two, not removing his eyes off Raito, and vice versa. L’s gaze was not full of anger, as Raito’s was, but interest. “Please do that and return to your homes. You will be sent a letter with the time of the trial, as witnesses.”

Mogi nodded and immediately headed out the door, while Matsuda lagged behind, walking a few stepped and shooting a glance back at Raito, and then walking a few steps, and then looking back again. Finally the door shut behind him, and only Raito, L and Watari were in the room. Watari knew, from the tapes, of their ‘relationship’ of sorts, and so unreceptively ignored their words, not really wanting to hear it.

“Anything you want to say, Raito-kun?” L asked slowly, lifting and thumb up to his mouth.

“Ryuuzaki…L…” Raito said, still somewhat stunned by how quickly everything had gone downhill. But he had to take a chance, because if anything would get him out of this, those words would, “I...”

L waited, thumb pressed against his teeth, eyes wide, ears ready.

“I…” The words were hard to form. Raito wondered if that was because they were a lie, or because they were true, very, very true. “…love you…”

There was a long silence as L came up to him, walking gradually, putting one long, bare foot in front of the other and strolling toward him. Raito held his breath as Ryuuzaki came close to him, very close, until he felt almost sandwiched between the detective and his assistant. He held his head up high, still not coming down from the royal thrown he’d put himself on as Ryuuzaki stared at him blatantly, just breathing, his hot breath against his chin.

“No,” L answered, “No, you don’t.”

“Yes, I –”

“Just another sweet lie, Raito-kun,” L informed him, taking his thumb from his mouth and suddenly grasping Raito’s chin and making him look at him straight in the eye. Raito felt the moist thumb against his jaw and tried to yank against from those thin fingers but the grip was firm. “You don’t love me.”

Raito just glowered in return.

“Which is just as well,” L continued, his eyes penetrating him with their cool inky, identical black marbles, both cold and hard, and nearly unbreakable, “Since I don’t love you either.”

Lips then smashed against lips, attaching, moving, biting. L used his free hand to grab a fistful of Raito’s soft, glossy hair and pulled him into a violent, wet kiss. It was uncomfortable for Raito because it was rather painful, uncomfortable for L because it was Kira he was kissing, and uncomfortable for Watari because they were kissing in his presence, very close to him indeed.

And then the kiss was released and Raito, breathing unevenly, managed to smirk.

“You do want me.”

L watched him for another moment before replying, “I want you, Raito-kun.”

For about half a second, Raito felt triumphant, but then L finished his sentiment.

“But I want justice more.”

Raito’s eyes widened, and he had nothing to say to such a statement. Everything he could say was futile. He could say that he was justice, that he was God! But that would mean nothing to L, nothing.

“Please, Watari,” L said, sitting down at his computer, facing away from them, “Take him away.”

Raito growled and kicked and threw a tantrum the entire way, but eventually Watari got him out the door, and suddenly the room felt very, very empty. He knew it wasn’t just because the task force wasn’t there. He’d been alone before, but always with the promise that Raito would return, and so now, with out that comfort, he felt inexplicably lonely.

And so, he’d chosen then, that no, he was not in love with Raito. He loved the way he squirmed under his touch, he loved every bead of sweat that formed on his body, he loved his perfect silky auburn hair, loved the way his lithe body arched against his own, he loved his disarming smile. He loved his brilliant mind, and he found that he even loved the way he sat with impeccable posture like he was on a throne, the way he was much too confident for his own good, the way he ate vegetables, the way every kind word was fake, the way he insulted him with his pretty, kissable lips…

Yes, he loved all that, but he certainly didn’t love him.

In the end, it had never been love. And if it had, it didn’t matter now, anyways.

-

-

-

When L agreed not the kill Misa, Rem had spilled everything he needed to convict Raito.

The trial was not quick. L couldn’t testify, but Matsuda, Aizawa and Mogi all could, and when the evidence was called, it was obvious that Raito was Kira. So, so obvious…and Raito knew it. Watari had taken care of Ryuk, Raito’s Shinigami, somehow. He didn’t know how, and he didn’t want to know.

When Raito went on the stand, he gave a long speech to the Jury about how he wasn’t a criminal, because he knew that was wrong, and he was merely getting rid of them all. He was no villain, but a hero, a god! That without him, the world would be lost to all the people that were truly evil. He ended his tirade with sweet promises of a better world, and in the end, two of the jurors had fallen for his lovely dialogue. It was declared a mistrial.

Raito was held in prison for that time, and orange did nothing for his complexion. At first, a few people had come up to the new ‘pretty guy’ in front of everyone to try and assert their dominance. Of course, Raito, who was not a criminal but a destroyer of criminals, had more power than those men.

“I am Kira,” He hissed, making just about everyone in the room freeze, “If any of you dare to touch me, I’ll kill you and all your friends with heart attacks.”

They hadn’t believed him at first. But, when he listed easily the last of their buddies who had died in that prison from memory, they had no choice but to believe him. They left him alone.

Eventually, Raito’s trial was finished, months after his actual capture, and he was sentenced to ten life sentences in a super-max prison. L knew it was more than he deserved. He deserved the death penalty.

But then again, it had been L himself who had requested that Raito not be put to death.

Of course, when L showed up at Raito’s sentencing trial, no one saw L except for Matsuda, Aizawa and Mogi. The chief had been detained for attempting to bring a gun into the court room, although what he planned to do with that no one really knew. Except L, and perhaps Raito. At his trial, there were loads of supporters, inside the courtroom and out. Takada and Misa (L had promised Rem not to hurt her at all, for his life’s sake, although he would soon be getting her arrested as well) and so many other girls and boys from his school were there, cheering him on.

The protesters outside had posters that said ‘Don’t lock up our God!’.

But no one except for the few people that knew him as L saw him as anything else than just another visitor, sitting in the back, in a weird stoop with his thumb in his mouth, staring directly at Raito the whole time. Raito had his head held high even as he was dragged out of the court room, and the applause and shouts of ‘We love you Kira!’ made L go deaf, as he watched Raito be pulled from the room, farther and farther away from him.

Raito looked up at him, and from across the room their eyes met.

But then he was ripped away from him for good.

-

…Six months later…

-

There were certain advantages to being the best and most well known detective in the world. You got to break rules, and more than that, governments helped you break rules. It was quite funny the first few times it happened, but L had gotten used to it after around the nineteenth time, and now took it for granted that they would always do it for him, always make an exception. He knew that one day he would be unpleasantly surprised that they wouldn’t do something for him.

Today way not that day.

He was led down the sharp, metal halls of the super-max prison, where Raito had been being kept for the last half year. He was going to visit Raito in person, which almost never happened, and when it did it was through Plexiglas with a phone, not over a table like L had appealed for. He couldn’t talk to Raito through a sheet of glass; it would make Raito’s perfection seem fake, as though he were talking to someone on television. They, of course, let him.

There were tiny rooms with doors with no windows and single beds. Twenty three hours of lockdown, and one hour of recreation, including a ten minute shower three times a week and a chin up bar.

L was let to a room where Raito was already sitting, handcuffed to the table, looking at the ceiling. He looked thinner, and paler, but that was probably just due to the lack of light. The prisoners there didn’t get any outside time, ever. Raito would never get to see another blade of grass, another cloud, another tree for the rest of his life…unless it was from a picture in a book.

He hopped into the metal chair, in his regular crouch, and waited for the guards to shut the door to speak. They would be watching this on a video feed, but there were no bugs.

“You didn’t visit me,” Raito said, before L could open his mouth.

“I am right now,” L told him pointedly.

“You didn’t for six months,” Raito didn’t take his eyes away from the ceiling, “That’s a long time, L, don’t you think? I thought you were kinder than that.”

The ‘Well, I suppose you overestimated me’ was merely implied. There was a long absence of sound when L was thinking about what to say next. Without being entirely sure, he started.

“Raito –”

“I read that book you told me about,” Raito interrupted him suddenly, looking down from the ceiling at L, “Dante’s Inferno. I read it.”

“I see,” L nodded, remembering their conversation.

“I have a lot of spare time in here,” Raito told him casually, leaning back in his chair. “I was thinking of becoming a doctor, but I think that’s sort of cliché, don’t you think?”

“I suppose,” L agreed, “That, and you’re never getting out of here, so you’ll never get to practice.”

Raito ignored the comment, “You know, L, what I found interesting?”

“Many things, I’m sure,” L responded.

“According to you, I’m a murderer,” Raito explained, “Which would make me ‘Violent against my neighbors’, and therefore in the Seventh Circle of Hell.”

“Yes,” L agreed, remembering that. “That would mean you would be thrown into a river of boiling blood…”

“The river Phlegethon,” Raito nodded, “But that’s not what I find interesting. What I find interesting, is that you would be in the same circle of Hell as I am. There were Violence against neighbors, violence against themselves, and violence against God and Nature. The last of them includes sodomites.”

L raised his eyebrows and Raito chuckled darkly.

“I find it so amusing that you are as bad as I am…just because you slept with me,” Raito gave out a harsh, insane giggle that L had never heard before. “Don’t you think that’s funny, Ryuzaki…?”

“This place is starting to wear on you,” L stated factually. Raito’s eyes narrowed sharply and all humor was erased from his face.

“Of course is bloody well is!” Raito sneered, “I’m in solitary confinement, L, what do you expect, you bastard?”

Raito breathed, and his face loosened and the corner of his mouth cocked into a small, half-smile.

“But I haven’t started talking to myself yet,” Raito said, laughing at the thought, “I even do chin up bars every day, for that whole hour I’m allowed to. And sit ups and anything else I can do while I’m stuck in here.”

“I’m glad you’re keeping healthy,” L told him, and Raito sighed.

“We had a nice conversation going here, and you ruined it,” Raito told him and then continued, “Where were we? Ah yes, the Seventh Circle of hell.”

“You still want to talk about that?”

“Yes, I’m not done, just because you interrupted with your random comment,” Raito rolled his eyes, “Anyways, the Seventh Circle of Hell is connected to the Eight Circle through the Phlegethon River. The Seventh Circle is violence and the Eighth Circle if fraud…now, I always think of you as the eighth circle. You’re more of a liar than an assailant, and while I don’t see myself as violent, I’m sure you and many others would disagree.”

L’ brow furrowed, “I believe you are fraudulent as well.”

Raito smiled bitterly, “I thought you might.”

“You’re a Seducer,” L told him.

“You’re a Sower of Discord.”

“You’re a Diviner.” Or, at least, you think you are.

“You’re a Hypocrite.”

“So are you.”

“You’re a Falsifier of Words.”

“You’re a Falsifier of Persons.”

“As are you.”

“You’re a thief.”

“I’ve never stolen a thing in my life,” Raito snapped. L snorted.

“I beg to differ,” L answered coldly, looking at Raito with a meaningful stare until the boy caught his drift. Those honey brown eyes widened and then narrowed again.

“If you want to put it that way, then so are you,” Raito spat cruelly. “Only I didn’t betray you, so you are therefore worse. You stole my heart and then turned me in.”

“Tell me, Raito-kun, when was I scheduled to die?” L inquired coolly, “Weeks later? Days?”

“Hours,” Raito growled, and L smirked slowly, shaking his head.

“You would have betrayed me too, then?” L asked, “You would have stole my heart and done me in. I just got there first, and you’re mad it wasn’t you.”

“Yes, I would’ve done it,” Raito admitted tightly, “But I wouldn’t have liked it. I would have…cried at your funeral.”

“Would you, now?” L sniggered, “You would cry for me? Even if the tears were feigned? How charming.”

“Fucking -screw you, L.”

“‘Fuck’ and ‘screw’ are synonyms and therefore you statement is redundant.”

“Get the hell out,” Raito snarled angrily, “You’re such a –god how could I have ever thought I could feel anything for you? You’re so –you put me in here! I don’t want to talk to you anymore.”

L nodded, standing, “That is understandable. Our time is almost up anyways.”

The detective pushed in his chair, “Good bye, Raito-kun.”

When was about to step out the door, Raito’s voice stopped him, and he paused, listening for the question.

“Will you visit again?”

‘Will you’ not ‘Can you’, it was a clever way to figure out if he was planning on visiting again already, instead of actually admitting that he wanted him to. L looked at Raito over his shoulder.

“I will see you again, Raito-kun,” L replied, and then walked out the door.

The heavy, metal door made an echoing thud behind him, and left Raito alone in a sea of gray.

-

…Six more months later…

-

L had a specific reason that he was only visiting every six months. It was because, for over five months they’d been chained together, and then for a couple more weeks they’d remained sleeping together. All in all, it was around six months that they’d had together that was pretty much Kira-free. Six months completely and utterly together, and the one day it was just all over.

So now, to reverse it, he would spend one day with Raito every six months.

It probably wasn’t the most logical way he could have done things. Maybe it would have been better to just go see him whenever he liked. But then L would have no discipline, and would go see Raito every day, and that would show Raito how much he…how much he’d noticed his lack of company. And that just wouldn’t due.

So once again he found himself being led down long, gray, metal hallways that looking like something out of a horror movie, and he wondered whether they modeled this place after the movies, or if the movies were modeled after this prison. This time, he wasn’t led to the same conference room. He narrowed his eyes at the burly guard, and told him that he would not, under any circumstances, be talking to Raito through a glass window.

“Don’t worry, you won’t, you’ll just be seeing him in his cell instead,” the guard shrugged, “He doesn’t leave it anymore.”

“He doesn’t…what?” L almost stopped walking.

“We’ve got to drag him out for a bath once a week,” the guard let out an unsympathetic laugh, “Doesn’t do very much at all anymore, really. He –well. I suppose you’ll have to see for yourself.”

The keys jingled as he flipped through them to get to the one that unlocked Raito’s room, and it made the click as it turned in the lock, opening for L. The Guard waited for him to step in, and then closed the door locking it in behind him, and then L took in the sight before him.

Raito was sitting on his bed, staring straight ahead, his shoulders back his chin high, holding himself every bit like the king of Heaven he thought he was. But he was much too thin, his wrist, elbows and ankles sticking out awkwardly, his eyes sunken and his cheeks hollow. His hair was long, almost like it had been in confinement, and just as greasy, his slender fingers grasping the edge of his bed tightly until his knuckles were white.

There were papers and books all over his floor and bed, a toilet and sink in the corner of the room and a blanket, pillow and sheet bunched up on the bed.

And even in all the debris, L looked at him, and still he was beautiful. Not in a prince-like healthy way now, more like a gothic, dark skeleton more than anything, but beautiful just the same and L couldn’t help but keep his eyes on him. Raito wasn’t looking at him, but instead straight ahead, at nothing but the other side of the wall. L looked at wall too, turned to face it, looked back at Raito and then back at the wall. He could find nothing special about it.

“Raito-kun,” L stated, and almost violently Raito’s head snapped toward him.

“L!” Raito hissed, eyes wide, “What are you doing here? You can’t be here!”

“I can’t?” L inquired innocently, pointing at himself, “Is that so? It seems that I can, because I am.”

“No!” Raito spat, standing up, “You can’t be here! I killed you!”

L blinked in surprise, “You….killed…me?”

“Yes! I killed you! Didn’t you feel it when I caught you as you fell to the ground?” Raito asked, his eyes flashing, as he seemed to enjoy remembering. “Didn’t you see me smile down at you as you died…?”

“Raito-kun…” L’s brow furrowed, “You didn’t kill me, I didn’t fall and you didn’t smile as I died because I’m not dead…”

“Oh, I get it,” Raito snorted, “You’re a ghost! The ghost of my enemy, come to haunt me…how cliché. What are you gonna do, make ‘boo’ sounds and throw crap around the room?”

“I believe that would be juvenile,” L replied, “And while I am juvenile, I am not a ghost, and therefore it would not make sense.”

“Not a ghost?” Raito asked, “That’s not possible, unless this is a dream…yes, perhaps this is a dream. I’ll just have to wake up then and back to my world…”

“I see,” L said, sitting down next to him and playing along, “Your world, is it?”

“Of course!” Raito opened up his arms and turned around, as though gesturing to the entire room around him, although L was pretty sure he meant more than the room, “This entire country, this entire world! Don’t you hear them? If you’re in my dream, if this is a dream, then you should hear them too!”

“I don’t hear anything,” L answered, unsure of how to act. What in the world…?

“Liar!”

L blinked yet again after being hissed at. Raito’s face had twisted into a picture of rage; mouth warped into a scowl, eyes narrowed to near slits, and his fists clenched tightly, nails biting into his palms. It was as though he were outraged by L, the intruder in his reality, could be trying to say his world was fake.

“Okay…” the detective said slowly, “What do you hear, Raito-kun?”

And Raito’s face relaxed, eyes opening more, fists unclenching, lips going lax and then turning into a smile.

“The voices of my people,” Raito grinned, “My happy people in my perfect utopia…they’re all cheering for me, L, all for me. Kira-sama, Kira-sama, Kira-sama, Kira-sama…!”

L sat on the bed, in a shockingly normal position, but abnormal for him, with his bottom in the chair and his feet on the ground, completely lax. He didn’t need his reasoning ability for this. It was obvious what had happened. A year in the confinement and Raito had started to have delusions, making his own world in which he’d succeeded in killing L and had…finished his goal as Kira and become God. In short, he’d starting talking to himself.

“Do you still exercise, Raito-kun?” L asked after a few moments, where Raito just kept laughing softly and chanting ‘Kira-sama, Kira-sama…’. At his question, he stopped and looked at L, as though he’d only just noticed he was there, and glared.

“Damn it, L, you really do ruin everything,” Raito snapped harshly, “No, I don’t exercise anymore, why should I, really? Does it matter anymore if I’m nice and pretty if I’m just going to be in here for the rest of my life? Or should I say ten lives?”

“Ah, good. Raito-kun,” L said, recognizing the real Ratio for what he was. “I’m glad you’re back.”

“Yeah!? Well I’m not!” Raito bellowed his cheeks tingeing red with fury. “Damn it, L, you are the –you are so fucking –I hate you.”

“Aw,” L cocked his head to the side, “And just a little over a year ago you said the exact opposite.”

“Oh please, L,” Raito snapped, “What a fucking joke! Why don’t you shut the hell up about that….it was a long time ago…I’m…I’m eighteen now…”

“Nineteen, actually,” L corrected, “Your birthday was three days ago. Happy belated Birthday, Raito-kun.”

“Yeah,” Raito collapsed on to the bed beside L and then sighed, “You too.”

“It’s not my –”

“I’m trying to be polite, although I don’t really care if you appreciate it.”

“Oh, I see,” L nodded, “So, Raito-kun, now that you are out of your delusion, what have you been up to? What are all these papers about?”

Raito shot up, “Did he send you to spy on me?”

“I’m…sorry, Raito-kun?” L shook his head, not understanding, “Did who send me to spy on you?”

“The Guard,” Raito whispered, and when L continued to look mystified he growled, “Don’t pretend you don’t know, L! You know who I’m talking about!”

“I’m afraid I do not.”

“He’s the one who brought you here,” Raito sneered, “I hate him. I hate all the Guards, but him especially.”

“And why is that?”

“They think their so fucking powerful!” Raito snarled, “They think they can threaten me with the small place, think they can scare me, tame me into following their arbitrary rules…”

“The small place?” L inquired, raising an eyebrow.

“Don’t act like you don’t know!” Raito derided irately, “Of course you know! I can hear you laugh at me whenever I’m in there.”

“Do you hear me the whole time?”

“Of course not! I’m not insane,” Raito scoffed, “Only when it starts to weae on me. After a couple days or so, when I can’t hear myself think anymore and I start to…”

Raito shook his head.

“You would want out too,” Raito pointed out and L nodded encouragingly.

“I’m sure I would.”

“But when I ask them to let me out, it’s pathetic and I can hear laughter and it took me a while, and it’s you, I know it is, cackling at my pitiable display,” Raito’s nose wrinkled in disgust, “I really hate that room. And I hate that Guard, he puts me there.”

“Why does he put you there?”

“If I misbehave,” Raito snorted, as though believing that no one could possibly be a good judge of his behavior, which was all good according to him. “But it’s not my fault. He makes me. He calls me ‘Kira’.”

“I thought you wanted that.”

“Not like that!” Raito yelled, eyeing L sharply, “He says things like ‘Look how far the great Kira has fallen’ and ‘Here Kira is, now just a worthless, common criminal’. As if he can compare to me!”

“You are a murderer,” L told him firmly and Raito rolled his eyes.

“You are a trouble-maker, I’m a seducer, and we’re both hypocrites and liars…” Raito sighed dramatically, “I believe we already went through this once before, L, the last time you were here.”

“Hm,” L agreed, “And you are the Seventh Circle of Hell, and I am the Eighth Circle….is that right?”

“Don’t pretend you don’t remember.”

“I find it rather funny that you make me the worse Circle, farther down, when you are the one sitting in a cell.”

“Well, of course,” Raito said, sitting up straight again, like he had been when L had walked into the room, and looked around, “I’m a God. You’re against a God. That makes you bad. And…”

His voice dropped an octave, and lower to a murmur.

“…and my people don’t like bad people.”

And just like that, Raito was gone again.

L stood up and heaved a sigh, pulling a folded, faded piece of paper from his pocket and setting it on the bed beside Raito, who had simply forgotten he was there. He shot a look at Raito, a long one, taking in his appearance for later, when he visited again. But he knew, next time, the Raito he knew might be gone for good, not just intermittently.

He hoped Raito liked his birthday present.

-

-

-

Raito was in his Kingdom now, ruling over his people. No criminals lived on his earth now; children were sweet and good students and adult were kind, hardworking people who worshipped him. In churches his law was taught and he let people live their lives in his paradise. His face was known, displayed proudly on billboards, money and in windows of cars, on bumper stickers, posters and books. There were books and movies about his life and everyone in the entire world knew his name, and acknowledged him as their God.

He liked this world.

It was so much better than the tiny little room with no windows. So much better.

So he spent most of his time there, ignoring the guards when they interrupted him to bring him food. For his recreation hour he went to the library section of the recreation room, gathered more paper and pens and then went back to his room, forgetting the chin up bar and a shower, until that guard he hated so much (and a few others he hated just a little less) dragged him to the shower room and scrubbed him themselves. It wasn’t his fault, really, because he had no definition of time anymore. He couldn’t tell how long it had been since his last shower, because in his world, he was always clean.

Everything was clean.

But it ended, as all things did. Raito fell asleep and then woke up, opening his eyes to the murky, cold walls and ceiling. He turned on his side and faced a folded piece of paper and sat up quickly. He hadn’t done that! He never folded his papers; it creased them in the most annoying way. His first instinct was the Guard, leaving him a note to taunt him. Had he gotten sick of only the couple times a day he got to see him?

He unfolded it slowly and straightened it out before reading it.

My real name is L Lawliet.

Happy Birthday, Raito-kun.

Raito opened his mouth and screamed, ripping up the paper into tiny shreds as he roared.

-

…Six more months later…

-

The halls had not gotten any warmer since his last visit, but then again, L hadn’t changed at all either. Not in six months, and not in the year and a half Raito had been in the maximum security prison. The guard, which he remembered Raito hated, was yet again leading him to his room. L felt a snake constrict around his insides, a boa of emotions suffocating him as the guard opened the door and allowed him into Raito’s room.

He heard sniggering behind him that was cut off when the door closed. Raito was sitting in the bed, scribbling in a notebook. L raised his eyebrows and came forward, leaning on his tiptoes and straightening out his back slightly to see what was being written.

Raito noticed his presence and snapped the book shut, permitting L to see its cover.

Death Note.

The cover of the notebook was colored in with black marker and the words were written in whiteout; obviously fake, but Raito didn’t seem to think so, by the look on his face as he smiled maniacally.

“L…L Lawliet…” an insane chuckle left those lips, “I can kill you now, L, I can kill you…watch me write your name…”

He opened up the book again, to the last page and wrote L LAWLIET in bold, capital letters for emphasis and then counted down aloud from 40 automatically.

“Thirty-seven…” Raito whispered, voice rising with every number that he uttered, getting closer and closer to zero, happily glaring at the page marred only with the name, “…sixteen….fifteen…”

His fingers tightened around his pen, his grip on the fake notebook becoming vice like when finally he uttered the last number sinisterly, smile frozen in place as he waited for L to drop dead and seize in pain.

“Raito-kun,” L said, prying the book out of the boy’s hands, not an easy task, for he’d become as still and as stiff as a statue. He’d grown even gaunter in the passed months, but he was not yet wasting away. His hair had been cut short and was beginning to grow out. “I’m not dead, and I’m not dying. That is my name, but this is not a real Death Note…you do know that, right?”

“Know what?” Raito asked, his eyes growing wide, “What are you doing here? You’re not supposed to be here.”

“I’m here to visit you, Raito-kun,” L explained easily, not looking at the notebook in his hands, but at Raito, “I told you, I’ll come here every six months.”

“You’re not supposed to be here,” Raito repeated.

“Yes, I am.”

“You are?”

“I am.”

“Okay.”

“Okay?”

“Yeah, okay,” Raito nodded, shrugging, “I’m not staying here long anyways.”

“Oh? Where are you going?” L asked politely and Raito snorted.

“Away, you should know, you’re going there too,” Raito said simply, running a hand through his hair. “We talked about this. Don’t pretend not to know.”

“I apologize.”

“Now you’re being condescending.”

L snorted, “Even when you are not yourself, you’re yourself.”

“That makes absolutely no sense,” Raito peered at L, eyes narrow, “You’re going to the same place I am.”

“Where is that?”

“Hell, of course,” Raito shrugged again, snatching the book from L’s hands, “Ryuk said Hell isn’t real, but he’s a liar, so I’m not sure….” He sighed. “I’m going to need another notebook soon…”

“Another one?” L asked interestedly.

“Yes,” Raito nodded airily, “This one’s almost full. Just like the other ones got filled.”

“The other ones?”

Raito nodded yet again and knelt beside the bed, scooting twenty or so notebooks out from under it, all colored with black marker and written on with white out Death Note. L picked one up and opened it to the first page, murky eyes broadened when he saw what was written inside. Over and over again in black ink, perfect English characters just like L had written his Birthday present in, was his name.

L Lawliet

L Lawliet

L Lawliet

Over and over again, repeatedly, each time a faultless copy of the name before it, up and down the page until the entire page was covered in only his name. He flipped the page over, and on the back it was the same thing, and on the next page the same. He flipped through the book quickly, his thumb skimming the pages like a flipbook and saw that every single page was like this. He picked up another book, and it was the same. The next notebook, the same, and as he continued looking at the books he found that the handwriting subtly got sloppier and more uneven.

He grabbed back the notebook Raito was not finished with yet and in careless handwriting it was the same thing, yet again, his name written in the fake Death Note, Raito desperate for one of them to work. He’d spent all his time since L’s last visit writing this…

“Are you happy, L?” Raito smiled at him brilliantly, with a hint of underlying spite, “You’re all I think about now.”

“Raito!” L stood, throwing the book to the floor, saying the name in English, as he always reverted to when he was distressed, and forgetting the honorary, “You –you’re not gone.”

“Of course I’m not gone,” Raito scoffed, as L grasped his shoulders and looked at him hard, straight in the face, “I haven’t gone anywhere.”

L was just about to sigh with relief when Raito spoke again.

“Not yet anyway,” Raito added casually, “But I am going somewhere. I won’t be here long.”

L deflated, “Raito-kun…do not play with me like this. If this is a joke, then I will not be amused. I do not wish for these games you are so fond of, not anymore.”

“Games? I’m not allowed to play games,” Raito shook his head, and continued to grin at L, “I just read and write. I write down criminals names. I kill them, because they’re bad, did you know?”

“I…yes, Raito-kun, I did,” L responded, his hands still tight on Raito’s bony shoulders, “That’s why you’re here.”

“Why I’m here…?” Raito seemed to consider it, “No, I’m here because of Ryuuzaki. He said he liked me, said he wanted me, but I don’t think he really did.”

“What?” L shook his head, mouth dropping open just a bit at that. Raito was talking about him like he wasn’t there and…he thought he didn’t want him. Well, that was easy to conclude really, considering where he was because of him, “Who do you think I am, Raito-kun?”

“L, of course,” Raito scoffed, rolling his eyes, “L Lawliet. I hate you. But Ryuuzaki put me here. He said he wanted me, but I don’t think he really did.”

“Raito-kun, he did want you,” L told him tugging him into him and wrapping his arms around sickeningly thin shoulders, something that was much easier to do with all the lost weight. He almost seemed fragile now. Then, he realized that now he was talking in third person, “I mean, I did want you.”

“Ryuuzaki said he wanted me, but I don’t think he –”

L kissed him. He forgot about the camera’s taping all things visual in the room he was in, and just kissed him hard, moving his lips against those soft yet chapped petals and licking them soothingly. Raito opened his mouth and allowed L’s tongue in, much too submissively for L’s liking, so he prodded Raito’s tongue into alertness, and they kiss was on when Raito began fighting back. Their tongues curled around one another, tasting each other like they hadn’t in over a year and a half, the first time since that day when Raito was caught. It seemed like a century ago.

Hands settled on Raito’s face, taking the sunken cheeks against his palm and pulling away, looking Raito in the eye, hoping, and praying to the God he didn’t believe him that Raito would be there. He saw him, he was sure, he was there, that flicker of light in brown orbs! He was there!

“Ryuuzaki,” Raito breathed, mouth bruised and lips swollen red. L nodded, joy rushing through his veins.

“Yes, Raito-kun.”

Then, Raito’s brow furrowed and he pursed his lips and he gave a look of utter confusion.

“What are you doing here?” Raito demanded, “You’re not supposed to be here.”

“No –” L snapped, hands squeezing Raito’s face almost painfully, “Raito-kun, no, don’t leave!”

“I’m not leaving,” Raito said, giving a small grin, “But I’m not staying here long.”

“Where are you going” L insisted, sliding his hands down Raito’s slim neck –for a moment, thinking about strangling him –and then back onto his shoulders. Raito just smiled that small, little neurotic smile, “Where the hell are you going?”

“The same place your going,” Raito told him plainly, “Just a different Circle.”

L’s pupils dilated in understanding. Raito took a step back to rip himself away from the hands on his shoulders and started back over to his bed. But he patted L on the back encouragingly.

“But don’t worry, we’ll be connected by the Phlegethon River,” Raito told him, sitting down again on his bed, his back again the wall. He picked up his pen and opened his book and began scribbling on the lines again, and L could take a guess at what he was writing.

The door opened and the guard came in, arms crossed and told him his time was up. L nodded and gave yet another last look at Raito and started across the room and toward the door.

They would still be connected…even in Hell. Even with Raito in the Seventh Hell, and him in the Eighth, they were still attached. They almost always had been, really. By something or other.

First, the chain had linked them. Then, their mutual feelings. And now, with only their divine destination in common, they were still linked.

By the Phlegethon River.

Their hells were only a river apart. So close, so frighteningly close that there was no reason for them not to see each other. For that, L was glad. He walked out into the straight, gray, metal halls of the prison, leaving there, until another six months passed. He would continue to visit Raito in his cell, every six months, and force himself to slowly watch him deteriorate into to something that was nothing like the Raito he wanted. Until one of them died, he would visit him in his prison, until they went to the same place.

Who knew?

Maybe he’d be able to visit Raito in Hell too.