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You come into the hotel room and pause. You can see L sitting in his armchair tirelessly watching footage of Light, Misa and Chief.
“Why are you here? You took the last train. If you say you intend to stay the night, I’m kicking you out.” L drawls. You don’t question how he knew it was you. Probably something ludicrous like the subtle smell of your shampoo or the distinct sound of your footsteps.
You’re not dressed in your formal suit tonight. It’s the most casual L has ever seen you. You’re just wearing a sweater and some comfy pants. Without waiting for an invitation, you drag a seat next to L and curl up on the chair.
There’s a silence as L eats his cake. You two never really had the best relationship in the Task Force. You’re constantly butting heads with L, arguing about the morality of his actions, questioning his deductions at every turn. It’s no surprise L doesn’t feel inclined to talk to you.
“Ryuzaki…?” You whisper in a small voice. You don't look at him. You stare at the footage.
He doesn’t reply which could either mean permission to continue or a silent demand to shut up. You decide it’s the former.
“Has anything happened since I left earlier this evening?” Hushed voice. So different from your usual assertive tone.
“No. No one has said anything in the hours since.” He says curtly. Then he pauses before saying, “You seem out of sorts. Why are you here?”
You hug your knees to your chest in an unintended mimicry of his sitting position, but really you’re just curling in on yourself. You bury your head in your knees and your shoulders shake. “I just wanted to see you.” You whisper tearfully.
He blinks. L finally turns to look at you. He brings a hand up to his mouth to press his thumb to his lips. There’s no doubt he’s out of his depth. The sound of the air-conditioner whirring and the static noise of the monitor fills the room.
“I do not understand why.” He says eventually. It must hurt for him to admit he can’t deduce something. “Why would you come to me for emotional support? I believe you’re close to Matsuda. I will arrange a car for you to be driven to his house.”
“No!” Your head snaps up. “I want to be with you, not Matsuda…”
L just stares.
“Please.” You tack on softly.
L doesn’t quite understand, but after careful deliberation he pushes a plate of cake to you slowly.
You huff a tearful laugh and take it. Shoving a forkful of cake into your mouth, your tears start dripping down your cheeks unbiddenly. L doesn’t say anything so you don’t say anything either. You eat the strawberry cake while crying and when it’s all gone, he shoves a mug of hot chocolate into your hands. You drink it. You’re crying and you drink it.
“I always find myself returning to this point.” You say eventually.
He turns to you curiously. “This emotional low?”
“This point in time.” You correct gently.
There’s a stillness emanating from him that pulses throughout the room. L’s mind is racing to figure out what you mean.
“Truthfully, I don’t belong here. I don’t belong in this room with you, this city, this country, this world, this universe, this story created by the Gods.” You murmur into the silence. “I came here by sheer force, but I find the story never changes. In every iteration, you die.”
“What are you talking about?” He says eventually, eyes unblinking.
“You.”
“I die…?”
“By Kira’s hand, by your hand.”
“I have no intention to die on this case.”
“That’s what you say every time.”
“And every time I die.”
“Every time you die.”
“Who are you?” He finally asks. “You’re not the detective I know.”
You smile. “I am. It’s just that I’ve done this so many times I probably seem different to you now.”
“I do not believe your insinuation of time travel.”
“L Lawliet. 24 years old. Birthday is October 31st. You were brought to Whammy’s House as a young child, but you stayed in England for only 5 years. You’ve solved 3500 cases, not just as L but also Coil, Denueve and the other detective aliases you hold. Your two options for successors are Near and Mello. You haven’t chosen between them yet. You don’t solve cases because of justice, you solve them just because they’re your hobby. You–”
“I understand the point you’re making.” He interrupts. L shifts in his chair, toes curling into the seat as he grips his knees. His face is impassive. “Assuming time travel is real, why would I tell you all those things?”
“Some of them you disclose yourself, some of them come to light as events unfold. I’ve met Near. I’ve met Mello. In one timeline, you even brought me to Whammy's House yourself. Though you didn’t tell the children you were L, but Near and Mello knew anyway.”
“I would expect nothing less from my successors.” He muses. “But why you? We’re not particularly close.”
“At this point in time.” You add. “In the very first timeline when I was here, we grew closer after moving to Kira HQ. We spent many sleepless nights together. You told me many things. I told you many things too.”
You hug your knees tighter to your chest. “I was so hopeful that my actions would make a difference. I was so hopeful that I could prevent your death. In the end, nothing changed. It’s like we’re on train tracks that never derail. Even if I stop the train, it eventually moves again.”
L fidgets in his seat, biting his thumb. “You speak oddly. As though you were not originally part of this world.”
You laugh softly. “You’re always so sharp. I never know whether to tell you or not.”
“Tell me.” He demands.
“I’m a Reader.” You say softly. “A Watcher. I come from another world. One where your world is a fictional story written by two men.”
“A fictional…?” He freezes.
“A story called Death Note.” You whisper. “I watched you. I watched you in every series, every reboot, every stage adaptation. In English, in Japanese. I watched you. I always watched just you.”
L is stunned into silence. “Why come into this story?” He asks eventually.
“Why do people do anything?” You bury your head into your knees. “Because I love you and I want you to be happy, but no matter how hard I try, you die.”
“You love me.” He repeats flatly. “A character you claim you consumed as part of fictional media? You love me.”
“I love you.” You shake your head. “I’m obsessed with you. The first time I watched you die felt like a gaping hole in my chest, the second felt like a crucifixion, the third felt like I died with you. When I died in my real world, I woke up in yours. And I met you. I talked to you. I fell more and more in love with you. I repeat these same months over and over in hopes of saving you, but you always die.”
L absorbs this silently. “How could you love so deeply?”
“The human heart is rarely rational.”
“How could you love me so deeply?”
“You’re the only thing worth loving.”
“Despite all the pain?”
“Despite all the pain.”
L shifts his gaze to the side, thinking. He bites down on his thumb.
“I don’t understand.”
“You never do.”
“You’ll do this again knowing I always die?”
“I’ll watch you die a million times if it gives me a million more chances with you.” You reach out and tug at his sleeve, tears rolling down your cheeks as you smile softly. “So let me stay the night. The next night too and the next night until you’re gone.”
L stares at your face, taking in the adoration in your gaze. He reaches out and wipes your tears away ineffectually. “Alright.” He says lowly. “And you’ll do this all over again when I’m gone.”
You close your eyes. “For all eternity. Again and again. I’ll never let you go.”
“You should let me go.”
“I’ll never let you go.”
Your hand intertwines with his.
You hold on tight.