518Disclaimer: Death Note is not owned by me. I only own this story and make no profit from this.
AN:
Hi everyone!
I know it's been ages since I updated this fic, but I suddenly felt an urge to continue this story, with several ideas popping in mind. I'm still more focused on completing my HP fic, but I'm going to try to update chapters for this story in between. Oh, and I'll be speeding up this story a bit. I could write forever what goes on in Wammy's House, but I think the fic will be more interesting once Raito's back in Japan, so there's going to be larger time-skips.
I hope you enjoy this chapter and let me know what you think!
Hugs,
Firephoenix8
WARNING: Brief slash scene content.
Chapter 10
October 31, 2000
L was unblinkingly staring at his computer's flat screen, with a crossed and sulky expression on his face. He was impatient to see if Y would post a message on the Ekwok Forum, since, quite frankly, he had nothing more entertaining to do before Quillish came back. Both he and Y had written back and forth every single day after the first time he had posted a message as Misty. So he hoped that Y wouldn't abandon him this day in particular.
He side-glanced at his disastrous, first-time baking attempt and he pouted sullenly. The chocolate muffin –if it could be considered as such- was a half-baked, almost crude mass of chunky globs of flour, butter, sugar cubes, and overcooked chocolate lumps. Furthermore, it had a lonely birthday candle sliding down along one of the muffin's uneven sides. He had even been desperate enough as to bravely sink his teeth in the muffin, and it wasn't an experience he wanted to repeat. His mouth had been filled by an explosion of flat-tasting flour, salty butter, and bitter, scorched chocolate – and he despised salty and bitter.
He dearly hoped that Quillish would be coming back soon from his flight from Miami. The man had to have arrived to Moscow's airport by now – why was he taking so long? He wanted a decedent, mouth-watering, sugar-coated, chocolate-and-strawberry-loaded birthday cake!
Abruptly, with a 'puff', the muffin deflated and collapsed on itself. L darkly scowled at it, before he pierced his computer's flat screen with an intense, wide gaze. Perhaps he could use the power of his will alone to summon Y to appear in the Forum. The evident irrationality of his thoughts merely told him that he was in a sour, dejected mood. But the truth was that he had become used to chatting with Y every day, and he didn't like it when his challenge and entertainment left him hanging.
Over the last two months their online relationship had slowly changed. He and Y were now in very familiar terms, and L very much enjoyed their bantering, barbed jibes, serious and grave debates, or their occasional irritated and snappy quarrels. Y always appeared to be more mature and older than him, though the man certainly volleyed back in the same manner when L threw at him some childish snipe. Furthermore, their online conversations were something he had come to look forward with anhelation and expectation, since they always ended up engaging in battles of wit and cunningness, with their personalities and wills clashing wonderfully.
It always left L wanting more because he had found in Y someone who could keep up with the fast pace of his thoughts, with his brilliance, and with his deductive skills. And that had never happened to him before. Indeed, he sometimes fleetingly wondered if Y had become not only his intellectual match but also his friend – he had never had a friend before, and the idea strangely appealed to him, quite unexpectedly.
L blinked at the screen, and pressed the pad of his index finger between his parted lips, in pensive wonderment. Indeed, he had never had a friend before, but what he had with Y felt like that, he supposed. He had certainly never found himself intellectually challenged by anyone, or interested in someone because of it.
Moreover, as much as he had tried, he hadn't been able to deduce much about Y's identity. The man kept writing about his work as a computer programmer, about his daughter and about his past, but L never believed half of what the man wrote. It was difficult to discern Y's truths from lies. And even though he had researched countless governmental records on their citizens, he had never found anyone who matched the profile of Y that he had in his mind. He only knew that Y had to be someone inordinately bright and intelligent, with astounding hacking abilities, but that was it.
Given that not many people in the world were as brilliant as himself or had such attuned deductive skills, he had fleetingly considered the possibility that Y had attended Wammy's House. From everyone who had attended or were currently studying in Wammy's House, he had zeroed in his list of Y-suspects on Near, Mello, or Andrew, since only those three boys were prodigal enough to reach Y's deductive skills, matching his own. Nevertheless, it had been a fleeting suspicion he had quickly discarded since none of those boys had any reason to create the Y identity; all of them wanted to become L, after all...
Suddenly, the flat screen of his computer flickered, and L's lips quirk upwards into a small, excited grin when he saw that Y had just posted a message on the Ekwok Forum.
Raito firmly closed the door behind him, moodily proceeding into his room and flinging himself on the bed. He rested his head under crossed arms and stared up at the ceiling, his mood becoming darker and more sullen as he heard the enthusiastic and cheerful voices of the other students. Laughter and festive cries came as muffled sounds through his closed door, but he could still hear how everyone at Wammy's was excitedly running through the school, celebrating Halloween while crying 'Trick or treat' at anyone they saw, demanding candies and the sort.
The festive, cheerful ambience of the school only served to dampen his own mood, making him more morose and sulky. He hated Halloween, not only because he found it beneath himself to dress up in some ridiculous costume to stuff his mouth with candies, but also because this was the date in which his family had been murdered.
He could hardly believe that only a year had passed since then; he felt it had been ages ago. So much had changed; not only his circumstances but also himself. Today, in particular, he couldn't stop thinking about the life that had been torn away from him. He hadn't been exactly happy back then, but he had been content amidst the gentle warmth of his mother, the mischievous cheerfulness of his little sister, and the stern, disciplinary but also noble presence of his father.
But those kinds of thoughts were exactly what he had locked away from his mind since leaving Tokyo, and he didn't like to rehash old, painful memories. That was why he had enclosed himself in his room, skipping the Halloween dinner party while alleging that he had a headache from too much studying.
Nevertheless, he could still hear the running feet of the children, and he closed his eyes and rolled to a side, wishing that the day would be over soon. At least, he would be undisturbed for a while, since he knew that Matt and Mello were off pranking other students, Near – the only other student beside himself who hadn't dressed up in a costume- was also ignoring the festivities while building a castle of cards in the library, Viviane was with Yori since he had told her that he was taking a nap due to his headache, and Beyond was still in the dinning room. There was no doubt in his mind that Beyond would be looking for him when the older boy realized that he had slipped away from the dinner party, but at least he would have some minutes of solitude before then.
Raito groaned as more joyful shrieks and laughter resounded through the closed door of his bedroom, and he stood up from his bed and gracefully sat down on his swivel chair. It was clear to him that he needed something to distract himself from the festivities outside.
He turned on his laptop and after waiting for a few minutes he logged into the Ekwok Forum. He hoped that L wasn't running around in a costume, wherever the man was. His lips curved into an amused smirk, trying to imagine the best detective in the world dressed as Tinkerbell. Obviously, he had no idea what L looked like, but imaging the man in some ridiculous and humiliating fairy costume significantly uplifted his mood. And he was certainly up to engaging in a barbed bantering with L. Few things entertained him and challenged him as his online chats with L did.
It was peculiar, since in the last few months he was still challenged by Beyond's unexpected and shifty behavior, but L challenged him in a different way. Beyond engaged him in battles of wills, physical domination, and with the constant struggle of trying to understand how the older boy's crazed mind worked.
On the other hand, what he had with L was purely a battle of minds, each trying to outmatch the other, trying to trick the other into revealing something about themselves, and trying to garner who bested whom in regards to solving cases. And that was something that Beyond couldn't give him. He still studied cases with Beyond, but he enjoyed much more discussing with L the cases that the man took. And he had come to realize that L and he often thought in the same wavelength and frequency.
In other words, L stimulated his mind as no one had ever done. And because of it, his online chats with L had become something preciously cherished. Not that he gifted L with anything but his competitive streak, and certainly not with friendship or any other hindering and pathetic emotion. But still, he allowed himself to like the man because he could afford it. After all, his real preys were Eraldo Coil, the mole in the NPA, and the Red Dragon yakuza boss, and L had nothing to do with them.
A small smile of relief quirked his lips when he saw that L had posted a message in the Ekwok Forum, thirty minutes ago. But Raito soon frowned when he read it.
Misty: Where are you? You haven't posted anything today. Why?
Well, L was certainly a demanding and controlling little bugger. And the man didn't seem to be in a very good mood either.
Raito smirked while his fingers deftly typed a reply, hoping that the man would see it soon.
Sleuth: It's Halloween, L. Surely you know this, or are you in a country where it's not celebrated?
It took only a few seconds for L to reply and Raito smiled with relief and excitement.
Misty: So that's why you didn't write anything before now? Because you've been celebrating Halloween, Y?
Sleuth: Of course, it's a US festivity after all. And I told you already that I live in Atlanta, remember? Just an hour and a half away from Orlando by airplane. I told you that I lived relatively close to Disney World.
Misty: Yes, that's what you always allege. But I wonder why Y would so freely disclose to me his location.
Raito's smirk widened, and his enjoyment increased while he typed back his response.
Sleuth: I have no reason to hide my location from you. Even if you know that I live in Atlanta, it would be impossible for you to discover who I am. After all, there are many middle aged men in Atlanta who have a daughter and work as a computer programmer.
Misty: I see. And how is your lovely daughter today?
Sleuth: Rebellious as any teenage girl these days. Do you know that I actually had to forbid her from going out dressed in leather short pants, thigh-high heeled boots, and a tiny corset? *Sighs* Young girls nowadays have no sense of decorum. I find myself feeling too old today, when my little girl wants to parade around with her friends, looking like a wanton pop idol. In times like these I wish that her mother was around to help me with her.
L's lips quirked into a half-grin and he pressed his thumb between them. Y was such an accomplished and smooth liar… so much like Andrew-kun… His wide eyes blinked and he pensively stared up at the ceiling, his mind spinning with suspicions.
Yes, given how bright Y seemed to be he could only go back to his earlier suspicions that Near, Mello or Andrew could be Y. And from the three of them he thought that Andrew was the most resourceful, sly, and brilliant one. But, on the other hand, Y's personality didn't match Andrew's. From the two times he had seen and spoken to Andrew through his laptop, the boy had always seemed coldly impassive, polite, and respectful. And he hadn't bought for an instant Andrew-kun's show of vulnerability by expressing abashedly that he longed to have friends. Though, he knew that the boy was still keeping B around him, going against his orders.
He felt a spike of anger and irrational disappointment, but it was quickly suppressed when his mind kept rushing with an avalanche of thoughts. Yes, from everyone he knew, Andrew was the one who had the capacity and abilities to create Y. Andrew-kun's personality didn't match Y's, but that could be on purpose, of course. But on the other hand, he couldn't find a clear motive for Andrew to build the Y persona.
The boy was, after all, attending Wammy's House to have a shot at becoming L's successor. And Andrew had asked him to consider taking him under his wing, once he graduated. Furthermore, Y started sending untraceable emails to police forces around the world almost a year before Roger discovered Andrew in the private British school, and Andrew must have been a twelve year old boy around the time that Y popped into existence. It was improbable that such a young boy could have been attempting to solve cases, primarily because a twelve year old boy would lack the resources and motivation to do so – unless one of the boy's parents had been involved in criminal investigation, and that seemed too coincidental, the probabilities of it too low. Though, he would certainly keep in mind that improbable possibility, just as he kept in mind every other speculation about Andrew's past.
Nevertheless, if Andrew-kun wanted to become L's successor or to work for him once he graduated, then it would go against the boy's ambitions to hide that he was Y. Oh, Andrew could be doing it to engage in some sort of game with him, but, regardless, the boy was too smart to not realize that L would be much more interested in him if he was really Y.
L nibbled gently on his thumb, staring with unblinking eyes at the ceiling. No, Andrew-kun wasn't Y; it was simply a wild suspicion, with only a 5 percent probability of being correct. So he discarded the notion. He left it at the back of his mind, to be perused and considered in the future if he came upon any reason to suspect it again.
He got his mind back on track and daintily used the fingertips of his index fingers to type his reply.
Misty: It's so unfortunate that Y is a divorced man. But I'm sure he's an excellent father to his daughter.
Raito frowned at the message. Such an easy acceptance of his lie. Oh, he had told L repeatedly that he was divorced and that his daughter split her months between him and his ex-wife. But L had always tried to trick him into messing up by writing something which contradicted any of his role-playing lies. Thus, the message was alarming due to its accepting simplicity. He wondered what L was really thinking about.
Regardless, he couldn't dawdle for too long. Beyond would surely come into his bedroom soon, so he preferred to steer the conversation towards something more interesting.
Sleuth: Yes, I think I'm an excellent father, patient and understanding. So much that in a few minutes I'll be driving my daughter to a Halloween party at one of her friend's house. Therefore, I don't have much time to chat with you, L. But I'm surprised that you took the time to post in the Forum. It's obvious that you aren't celebrating Halloween, but shouldn't you be working on your case about the bombings in Moscow?
Misty: I see that Y wants to get to the point.
Raito widely smirked, and quickly typed back.
Sleuth: I do. You had this case for over two months, don't you have a suspect by now?
Misty: Should my suspect be Kolya?
Raito's smirk turned smug, and he wasn't surprised at all. Of course that L had ordered the police to show him Y's emails, where he clearly pointed at Kolya as the culprit. And it was time to volley back a jibe.
Sleuth: So Moscow's police force showed you my latest email. Yes, I think the culprit for the school bombings is Nikolai Fyodor Derevenko, a.k.a. Kolya. I gave Moscow's police force my reasons for it. The man left a message after one of the bombings, saying that he wouldn't stop killing children until the government released Freedom's Fist terrorists from prison. And there were countless of other clues which fit Kolya's profile. I listed them in my email, in case you would like to reread it in order to wizen up. In conclusion, I think the real motive behind Kolya's actions is to free Sofiya Miloslava Novokoff, a.k.a. Mila. Kolya and Mila were partners in terrorist acts several times, according to the records of the Terrorist Unit of the Military Force. I think Kolya is trying to free his lover, L. Don't you? I believe you know it's Kolya as well, but I wonder why you haven't told the police. What's taking you so long, L? I find myself… disappointed.
L blinked at his flat screen, his scowl deepening while he read the posted message. The topic pained him, since every week that passed mounted with more children dying after their schools were targeted, and he felt that he carried the weight of their deaths on his shoulders. It was case which was proving to be affecting him. Moreover, it was a difficult one since he couldn't utilize his usual underhanded ways to attain his objective, given that the Russian authorities had expressly forbidden him from negotiating in any way with the terrorists. And the authorities weren't allowing him to set free Mila for a few days in order to entrap Kolya. He knew that he could persuade her to set up her lover in exchange of her sentence being reduced, but the government didn't want to hear a word about it since they wanted to appear ruthless before the public.
But instead of stabbing his index fingers on his keyboard, to type his reply, he decided to grasp this opportunity to delve into Y's mind, to have an idea of what the man was capable of.
Misty: I also suspect that it's Kolya, but I don't have evidence enough to convict him for it. What would you suggest I do, Y?
Raito frowned when he read the message. L directly asking him for advice? That was so unlike the proud man. But there was only one way to reply given the gravity of the case – with honesty, telling L exactly what he would do in his shoes.
Sleuth: Simple. Koyla has an illegitimate son with Mila. The boy is at a state orphanage, at present, isn't he? Then use the boy, L. I read one of your reports, you have one of Kolya's buddies in your pocket, though you didn't reveal his identity. I'm assuming that the authorities aren't allowing you to use that criminal or Mila, because they don't want to pardon them in any way or promise them immunity or a reduction of sentence. Then the only thing you can do is make Kolya's buddy tell you which school is going to be targeted next. But that won't be enough, because even though you've set up bomb-detectors in every school in Moscow, when the alarms sound, Kolya has always managed to make the bombs detonate by remote control before the anti-bomb squad reaches the school. He has to be observing from a distance, to make sure that the explosion occurs, but the police patrolling the areas have never found him before or after the bombing. And this has already happened three times. Therefore, if you want him to reveal himself, then use his twelve year old son. Kolya's buddy will tell you which school will be targeted next, take the boy to that school on the day the bombing is planned, make the boy stand on a visible spot the moment the bomb-detectors sound the alarm, and then, Kolya will have no choice but to manually override the bombs or see his son die in the explosion. If he steps out of his hiding place to save his son, then you'll have him, and he can be immediately captured by the posted police officers.
After having read Y's suggestion, L stared unblinkingly at his flat screen, feeling a sense of perturbed unease and alarm. Y would put in danger the life of an innocent twelve-year-old boy? He admitted that he himself resorted to unorthodox methods, but never endangering the lives of innocents. He usually risked the lives of reformed criminals who he got to work for him, and even then he always tried his best so that no serious harm came to them. And he realized, for the first time, that Y was or could become a dangerous individual; someone who clearly believed to have the right to play with lives in order to accomplish his aims, no matter how well-intentioned these were.
Misty: I would never do that, Y. There's no knowing how someone as unstable as Kolya would react if he saw his son at the school, and I would never risk the boy's life in such way. It's clear to me now that you have no sense of morality. You're not fitted to give advice on cases and much less to be a detective, Y. I'll make sure that Moscow's Police Force disregards any suggestion you give them.
Raito gazed at his laptop's screen disbelievingly, before he felt a surge of infuriated anger swell up in him, his hands clenching into fists, his eyes narrowing. He punched his keyboard with brutal force as he typed his last message to L.
Sleuth: You're a fool. With my plan, they would be risking the life of one boy in exchange of the lives of all the children in the school. Don't dare spout to me about morality. You're morally gray yourself, aren't you, L? You're a deceiving, cheating human being, your words, not mine. Do as you like, and I'll do as I see fit to see this case solved as soon as possible, and with the least casualties.
L's eyes widened as he repeatedly reread the message, his lips parting in shock, a soft exhalation puffing out. He felt his mind rushing in a turmoil of stunned thoughts, as he slowly punched his keyboard with his index fingers.
Misty: Andrew-kun?
Gasping, Raito froze in his seat. How!? Why? He could barely string two coherent thoughts together. But he immediately snapped out of it and frantically reviewed what he had written, to detect what could have possibly given it away. And then he saw his fatal error. L had never written to Y about being a 'deceiving, cheating human being'. L's robotic voice had told him that the first day he had arrived at Wammy's House.
Raito cursed under his breath. He would have never made such a mistake if he hadn't already been affected by the memories of what had happened a year ago exactly on that day. And now, there was no way of fixing his blunder. Whatever he wrote, L wouldn't believe him to be anyone but Andrew. Furthermore, it was clear that the possibility had already entered L's mind if the man had so immediately linked the pieces together.
He anxiously carded his fingers through his hair, before he reminded himself that he could deny it nonetheless. And what did it matter anyway if L knew that Y was him? It changed nothing. He was still going to make Police Forces around the world solicit Y's help, he was still going to make Y more famed than L, and he was still going to dethrone L, Eraldo Coil and Deneuve from their positions as the best detectives in the world. He owed L nothing. Moreover, he was still seething about L's hypocrisy, and about the way the man had so curtly dismissed his suggestion of how to capture Kolya. And going as far as to accuse him of not being fit to be a detective? It was outrageous! His sense of justice was far superior to L's, who evidently didn't have the guts to do what it took to swiftly and ruthlessly apprehend criminals who deserved nothing but death.
How dare L say those things? Raito pounded his fist against his desk, his hazel eyes narrowing with fury. He would show the man exactly who was the best out of the two of them. But, for now, his tactic would be denial.
Sleuth: Andrew? Who's that? Now I'm supposed to be this Andrew? You should stop trying to pitifully discover my identity, you never will. And I'm sorry that you don't see things my way, L. But it matters little. We'll see whose plan Moscow decides to follow. I must leave now. I have a daughter to take to a Halloween party, after all.
He didn't even wait for L's reply. He logged out from Ekwok's Forum, and immediately typed an email to Moscow's Police Headquarters and to the Russian Military Forces, the two authorities directly involved in the schools-bombings case. His long fingers flew across his keyboard as he redacted a detailed scheme of how they could capture Kolya by using the terrorist's son. He still believed that it was the most efficient and quick way of capturing the criminal whilst saving countless of lives.
Once he clicked the send button, he shut down his laptop, and sprung to his feet. He immediately checked his wristwatch, and anger rushed through him when he saw how late it was and that Beyond hadn't yet come into his room. Well, he would definitely see what was holding the older boy, he could use some distraction. His online interaction with L had left him seething and he needed to vent out some of it in order to return to his smooth, composed self.
'Sleuth has logged out' was still blinking on his flat screen when L gazed unblinkingly at the ceiling, perched on his chair, with his legs drawn against his chest. His mind was still rushing with warring thoughts, when he distantly heard the entrance door of his luxurious hotel suite opening. Quillish was back. He heard the man quietly making his way to his rooms, obviously not wanting to disturb him, and he was thankful for it.
He didn't quite know what he felt; disappointment at himself mostly. He had thought about the possibility of Y being Andrew-kun, but he had dismissed it, and he should have detected the signs sooner. The brilliance of mind, the superb deductive skills, the easy way in which Y could convincingly spin any lie imaginable, and the hacking skills which Andrew-kun had undoubtedly also used to manufacture the identities of 'Andrew and Nancy Jones'.
Moreover, on one hand, he was thrilled now that he knew that Y was Andrew-kun. After all, Andrew-kun had started using the Y alias to study and solve cases when he was twelve years old – it was astounding! It only reinforced his conviction that the boy was the best to ever attend Wammy's House, and it clearly indicated that Andrew-kun was both a challenge and a worthy successor, given the boy's brilliant mind.
L's lips quirked into an amused and satisfied grin when he realized how deftly the boy had been fooling him. He had believed Andrew-kun when the boy had vehemently told him that he wanted to be his successor, and all the while, the kid had been Y, already making a name of himself. Indeed, now there was no doubt in his mind that the boy was valuable, and should be kept close by, at Wammy's House. Perhaps the boy would be a worthy addition to his ranks, someday, if he could persuade or manipulate him into accepting to work for him.
Suddenly, he slightly frowned and propped his thumb between his lips, nibbling on it, while his gaze remained fixed on the ceiling. But on the other hand, Andrew-kun's rather radical solution to capture Kolya greatly disturbed him. The way a fourteen year old boy could so ruthlessly suggest that a boy two years younger should be used and risked to capture a dangerous terrorist, even if such criminal was the child's father.
What had made Andrew-kun this way? And more importantly, was it reason enough to be alarmed about what the boy was capable of doing? Was it reason enough to start monitoring him? But, for now, Andrew-kun was just a prodigal orphan attending school. Surely there was no cause for concern. Nevertheless, he would tell Roger to watch the boy more closely. For his part, he was evidently going to tell Moscow's Police Force to disregard all future emails sent by Y. He didn't think that Andrew-kun was ready to involve himself in any case, not with a frame of mind which accepted to put innocent lives in danger.
L's frown deepened as he realized that Andrew-kun's involvement with Beyond could be worsening matters. He wanted Andrew-kun to become a great detective, a positive force in the world. He wanted the boy to take a righteous path, gaining a strong and proper sense of justice and a deeper value for human lives, and Beyond could be affecting the boy negatively.
And Andrew-kun had logged out so suddenly. What was the boy doing now? Was he with B? A scowl spread over his face, yet it quickly turned into a puzzled frown when he felt again an inexplicable twist of anger, much like what he had felt when he had seen Andrew-kun sharing his bed with B. He blinked and dropped his feet to the floor. He didn't understand it and there was only one person to whom he ever went to when he couldn't discern what he was feeling; Quillish. The old man knew him well, more than he did himself when it came to emotions, which he always had some trouble unraveling.
He slowly stood up, slouched and calmly made his way towards the kitchen, marginally cheering up when he heard the unmistakable sounds of Quillish using pans and pots to make something which would surely be sugary and mouth-watering. It seemed that he would have his birthday cake after all!
Raito reached the door of Beyond's bedroom without any incidents. Children were still running around the corridors in their costumes, shrieking with laughter and playing around, but he hadn't crossed paths with Viviane, thankfully. He was in no mood to play the charming and gallant boyfriend at present, and he didn't want to give any explanations of why he was going into Beyond's room.
Glancing around him, making sure that he wasn't being seen, he slowly opened the door and slipped inside. He instantly spotted Beyond perched on a chair, with that strange posture of his, but he frowned and halted in his tracks when he saw that the boy was once more gazing unblinkingly at an open book spread on the top of the desk. It was the third time that he had snuck into Beyond's bedroom just to find the boy intently staring at a page of that book. When asked, the boy had said that it was his journal, but he found it difficult to believe since he had never seen Beyond write anything on it, the boy simply stared at a mostly blank page. Even from there, he could discern that the page only had about two lines written on it, nothing else.
Suddenly, Beyond snapped his head around, and a toothy grin instantly spread on his face in welcome. Raito merely waited for the boy to safely lock the 'journal' inside his desk's drawer, as usual. Beyond closed the book, and Raito frowned again when he saw the journal's cover; it was all black, with strange white letters printed at the top. The letters weren't from any language he recognized, they actually looked like weird scribblings of some sort. And he also wondered why the boy kept the book under lock-combination if it was just a journal; surely Beyond couldn't be paranoid enough to worry about someone wanting to steal it. Who would? As if the seventeen-year-old boy had anything that interesting to write about his life.
"I was waiting for you in my room," said Raito shortly, when the older boy locked his drawer and slouched towards him. "Why didn't you come?"
Beyond cocked his head to aside, before a crooked smirk spread over his face. "You missed me, Light-kun?"
"Of course not," snapped Raito, shooting him a glare. "But I was expecting you and I don't like to be kept waiting."
"When are you going to stop lying to yourself?" whispered Beyond softly, his tender tone of voice belied by the smug tug of his lips. "If the great Light-kun deigns to come all the way over to my bedroom, seeking me out, it has to be because Light-kun desired my company, wouldn't you say?"
Raito rolled his eyes, before he smirked and commanded curtly, "Come here."
"Oh, is that what we're going to play tonight?" said Beyond airily, taking a step forward to be inches away from him. He bore his crimson-shaded eyes into Raito's, and added in a low purr, "A battle for dominance, is that what you want?"
"There's no question about who is going to dominate who," interjected Raito, scowling at him. "And stop using that ridiculous purring tone of voice, you idiot."
Beyond let out a crowing chortle, evidently amused at his expense, before he ghosted his lips over Raito's, and whispered mischievously, "But it makes you shiver every time I use it and I like to see you all hot and bothered."
"I don't shiver," said Raito flatly, huffing when Beyond pulled away just when he was about to lock his mouth with his.
"Admit that you came here because you missed me," said Beyond quietly, grasping Raito's chin and tilting it up so that their gazes met. "Admit it or there won't be any kisses, Light-kun."
Raito widely smirked at him. "I admit nothing. You'll respond to me anyway, so there's no need for me to tell lies."
And before he allowed Beyond to say another word, he pushed him to the bed and landed on top of him, quickly pinning the older boy's wrist against the pillow. The older boy bucked and tried to throw him off, but Raito tightened his clutch on the boy, making Beyond wince during his struggles. Abruptly, Raito felt a hardness pressing against his own tightening groin, and Beyond let out a crowing bout of laughter.
"Someone is excited," said Beyond in a sing-song, peering up at him with those crimson-shaded eyes, as a twisted smirk curled his lips. "Light-kun is aroused, aroused, aroused-"
"Baka, you are annoying," snapped Raito, shooting him a glare, before he leaned down and captured the boy's lips with his.
Immediately, Beyond stilled under him, a groan meshing in their locked mouths while he deepened their kiss. As their tongues ravenously battled for dominance, Raito felt that strange sensation crawling up inside him again; a hotness, a feverish desire, a relentless tightening in his groin, while his mind seemed to turn mushy and contently languid. He felt a sharp pain cutting through his lower lip, but he didn't loosen the hungry kiss. Beyond often bit his lip, and he wasn't about to stop because of it. Beyond now had his eyes closed, but Raito still intently stared at the writhing boy under him as he focused in delving his tongue into the boy's warm, wet cavern; there was the coopery tang of blood in their kiss now, meshed with Beyond's sweet taste. It felt intoxicating and he felt his own arousal spiraling, while he rubbed their lower bodies together and inadvertently loosened his grasp on the boy's wrist.
Suddenly, before he knew it, he was flipped over, and Beyond had him trapped underneath him. The older boy shot him a smug, crooked smirk, and before he could even blink, his shirt was ripped open and teeth sank into the crook of his neck.
Raito howled with fury, throwing a punch at the boy's face, as he bit out, "I told you never to leave any marks on my body-"
But he was silenced instantly when Beyond meshed his blood-stained lips with his, having quickly captured Raito's fist and slammed it against the mattress.
"It's my claim over you, Light-kun," murmured Beyond joyfully, lapping the blood trickling from Raito's neck before he delved into the kiss once more.
Seething, Raito was about to throw him off and beat him to a pulp, when he felt fingers deftly unbuttoning his trousers, sliding under the waistband of his boxers to grasp his arousal. Raito's eyes flew wide open, gasping at the sensation, and he saw Beyond looming over him, intently staring at him with darkening crimson-shaded eyes and a smug, toothy grin on his face.
"You look so beautiful like this, Light-kun," hummed Beyond contently, as he slowly fisted Raito's erection.
Raito felt his legs jerking and his eyes rolling upwards, a groan of pleasure escaping his abused lips as his arousal filled and hardened further in Beyond's pumping hand. He had never felt something like this before. He felt pleasure rolling through his body, hotness scorching his skin, a kind of foggy dizziness encompassing his swirling mind, while Beyond's panted breath warmly brushed his neck, as the older boy bucked and rubbed his clothed hardness against his thigh.
Beyond's breathing became heavy, the crimson-shaded eyes half-lidded and glazed over, as the boy's thrusts against Raito's thigh became rushed and more frantic, the hand pumping his arousal speeding. And Raito could do nothing but allow himself to momentarily enjoy the experience. Without even thinking, he entwined his arms around Beyond's neck, pulling the boy closer to him, locking their mouths together once more to smother Beyond's hot breath in his. The kiss was ravenous, hungry and passionate, and he felt as if he was being sucked in into a spiraling whirlwind of uncontrolled desire. The hand fisting his arousal tightened and mercilessly pumped faster, and suddenly, he stifled a moan when he felt an explosion thundering from his groin throughout every fiber in his body. A wetness spread inside his boxers, and he shuddered in mindless ecstasy as he rode the waves of pleasure which sizzled through him. With a cry, Beyond gasped out his name, the boy writhing and buckling before he collapsed on top of Raito, wrapping his arms tightly around him, panting heavily whilst tenderly nuzzling his face into Raito's neck.
As soon as he gathered back his wits, Raito unceremoniously shoved the older boy away from him. He jumped to his feet with a grunt, grimacing when he saw the mess in his pants. He shot the older boy a glance, and saw Beyond languidly and placidly spreading on the bed, with a dopey, content grin on his face, the half-lidded eyes observing him.
"You liked that, Light-kun," said Beyond, his lips now curling into a self-satisfied smirk, "and there's much more we can do."
"Hn," grunted Raito, shooting him a glare. "I think not."
"You'll change your mind soon," said Beyond in a sing-song, as Raito swiftly made his way to the bathroom to tidy up. "And I'll get you to admit that you like me, like me, like me-"
Raito slammed the door shut behind him, muffling out Beyond's crows of amused laughter. He was riled up, seething in anger, since he had lost control back there. One thing was to be intimate with Beyond, but another was to allow the other boy to be the dominant one and to truly feel pleasure in what they did. He had lost himself in it, and that was simply something that he couldn't do; that was for lesser beings, not him. Well, it was clear that he would be seeing Viviane after this. He needed to get back his control, balancing what had happened with Beyond by undergoing some distasteful intimacies with his unofficial 'girlfriend'.
Immediately, he squared his shoulders and regained his usual cool composure as he gazed at his reflection on the bathroom's mirror. He touched the tender skin of his neck with a scowl, seeing the bite mark that Beyond had left there. In a few minutes, he had cleaned up, with a large band-aid covering the teeth prints on his neck, his shirt tidily tugged into his pants, his hair neatly groomed, and his stained boxers now inside Beyond's laundry basket – he would get them from the older boy at some other time.
When he went back into the bedroom, he saw that Beyond had changed his clothes, wearing a new set of baggy jeans, though the older boy had discarded his t-shirt and was now bare-chested. Raito didn't allow his gaze to trail over the boy's lean, hard chest. Instead, he sat on the edge of the bed, far away from the other boy, and simply gazed at him in musing silence.
Beyond unblinkingly stared back at him, before he sat on his haunches to lean forward as he whispered into Raito's ear, "I made you feel pleasure, Light-kun, admit it."
"So what?" said Raito nonchalantly, crossing his arms over his chest. "It means nothing."
Beyond narrowed his eyes at him, and said quietly, "It means that we're more than friends-"
"More than friends?" scoffed Raito, arching an eyebrow. "We're not even friends, Beyond. We're schoolmates, acquaintances, at best."
Abruptly, Beyond tightly grasped Raito's chin, and groused out, "I'm getting tired of your attitude, Light-kun. What are you afraid of-"
"I'm not afraid of anything," said Raito sharply, wrenching free from the older boy's clutch. "And I don't force you to be with me, do I? If you don't like how I treat you, then you're free to be on your own." He rolled his eyes, and casually leaned down on the bed, propping himself up on his elbows, as he shot the boy a mocking glance. "You're worse than a woman, always demanding to know what I feel for you. It's so pathetic. Pitiful, really."
A hurt and angered expression flickered across Beyond's face, before he shook his head, letting out a bout of chortles, which sounded slightly deranged to Raito's ears. But there was nothing new there, he had become used the older boy's crazed antics. Raito merely observed him with a nonchalant expression on his face, and an arched eyebrow.
When Beyond's laughter subsided, the older boy leaned by Raito's side, holding his head up in a hand, as he pierced his crimson-shaded eyes into Raito's, and said quietly, "Something is up with you. You've been in a strange mood today." He gaze turned gauging, and he added softly, "Did it happen during Halloween?"
"Did what happen?" said Raito coolly.
"Did Sayu die on this date?" pressed on Beyond, intently staring at him. "You never told me how your sister died, or what happened to your parents."
Raito momentarily stiffened, before he pulled a blank and unfazed expression over his features. "Nor will I ever tell you." He scoffed, and added pointedly, "You have never told me anything about your past, either."
"Do you want to know?" asked Beyond, a grin breaking in his face, his eyes lighting up.
Raito glanced at him, shrugging his shoulders. "Sure, why not." He narrowed his eyes at him, and said sharply, "It doesn't mean that I'm truly interested in you or anything of the sort."
"Of course," interjected Beyond, his grin widening. "You're just curious."
"Exactly," said Raito curtly.
Beyond's grin turned into a crooked smirk, and the older boy jumped to his feet, pulling Raito up as well, and crushing him to his chest as he started swirling around the room, forcing Raito to join in a dance, as he joyfully sang, "Fly me to the moon, let me play among the stars, let me see what spring is like on a Jupiter and Mars…"
"Baka, what are you doing?" snapped Raito, trying to disengage himself from the arms tightly wrapped around his waist.
Beyond toothily grinned at him, forcing him into a swirl, as he continued signing, "In other words, hold my hand… In other words, baby, kiss me… Fill my heart with song and let me sing forever more…" He trailed a finger along Raito's cheek, lowering his voice, boring his eyes into his. "You are all I long for, all I worship and adore…"
Raito finally broke free, shooting the older boy an irritated scowl as he rearranged his disheveled clothes once again. "What-"
"That was the song that was playing in my mum's apartment," said Beyond with a shrug, letting go of Raito to sit back on the bed, "when I found her dead body."
Raito stared at him. "Oh." Shooting the older boy a frown, he sat by his side, and said quietly, "So what happened? I thought you were an orphan, like everyone else here."
"I am, now," said Beyond crookedly smirking, leaning against the headboard of the bed, patting the place by his side and gazing expectantly at Raito.
Raito glanced at the place offered, and when he didn't move an inch, Beyond shot him a toothy, lopsided grin, and spread his legs open, as he purred, "Or you can sit between my legs, while I tell you my story."
Raito softly snorted, and simply sat Indian-style in front of the boy. "Well?"
Beyond sighed with disappointment, before he stared unblinkingly at him, and said quietly, "A few years ago, when I was thirteen, I left the school." He shot him a large grin. "Well, I actually escaped. I was gone for two weeks before they found me again. I left because I wanted to find my parents. One of the few things I knew was that my mum had left me by the stairs of St. Theresa's Church, in London. You see, I was raised in an orphanage that I later discovered to be administered by St. Theresa's clergy. I knew that my mum had left me at the doorstep of the Church when I was a baby because one of the nuns of the orphanage told me this when I was five years old, just before Watari picked me up and brought me here-"
"Watari?" interrupted Raito, his eyebrows shooting upwards. "Isn't that-"
"Yes, he's the man that travels with L," said Beyond, nodding at him, a hint of anger flickering in his eyes. He crossed his arms over his bare chest, and bit out, "The old man is like L's father. He has never cared for anyone but L." He scoffed, and added snidely, "And L would be completely lost without Watari. The man does everything for him." He pierced Raito with his eyes, a crooked smirk curving his lips. "Watari is simply an alias created for the public and the media. His real name is Quillish Wammy-"
"The founder of this school," breathed out Raito, his hazel eyes widening.
"Correct," said Beyond, smirking broadly.
"I didn't know that they were one and the same," muttered Raito, a thrill of excitement running down his spine. "I saw Watari's name mentioned in L's reports, and I knew that L uses the man as a liaison between Police Forces and himself, but I didn't know Watari's real identity."
"Well, now you do," said Beyond, waving a hand dismissively.
Raito flashed him with a beaming smile. "Yeah, I do. So tell me more. You left the school in search of your parents-"
"Yes," interrupted Beyond quietly, staring down at his hands with a strange frown on his face. "I went to St. Theresa's, I asked around, and they gave me the name my mother had left. I don't know if she had expected her son to find her after so long, but I think she must have wanted to see me, since she left her real name with the nuns of the Church. It made me believe that she hadn't wanted to abandon me, but was perhaps forced by circumstances." He shrugged, and gazed up at Raito. "I never really found out. When I found her she was already dead. You see, I found her address and I picked the lock of her door to get inside her apartment. It was really nice, in an upscale London neighborhood. And when I got inside the flat, that song… Sinatra's song was playing on an antique gramophone." He wryly grinned. "It seems that she had a taste for music, but also for drugs. I found her in her lavish bathroom, overdosed. She was really beautiful, despite the veins that were bulging out in her eyes. Given the amount of cocaine she had sniffed and the numerous empty prescription-drug bottles I found scattered in her bathroom, I think it was suicide." He frowned, and added angrily, "She had been dead for about three days, the place reeked, but none of the neighbors had called in for the police. She wasn't liked. When I asked around, they slammed their doors in my face. One elderly lady took pity of me, I think, because she was the only neighbor who told me what she knew about my mother. The old woman said that they always saw men coming and going from my mum's apartment, and that she was obviously a call-girl. You know, one of those prostitutes who serve the high-classes and who evidently managed to be financially maintained by one of her clients."
"Oh," said Raito quietly, closely observing him. "So you never discovered who your father was, then. It could have been anyone-"
"I did," interrupted Beyond, a wide smirk curling his lips while a fierce, vindictive glow sparked in his eyes. "I found out who my mother's madame was and I… persuade her to tell me everything she knew about my mum. She told me that my mother had become, several years back, the exclusive whore of France's Ambassador in England, and that given my features, I was his bastard son. Though she quite nastily informed me that I wouldn't be welcomed by him and much less acknowledged as his illegitimate son. According to the Madame, abandoning bastard sons of clients was very common and I was no different. My mother had done it once before, as well."
"You have a sibling?" asked Raito, arching an eyebrow.
"Perhaps," said Beyond, his lips quirking. "But that isn't important. I never looked for him or her, and I don't care. I no longer consider that I have any family left."
Raito frowned at him. "But your father, supposedly this Ambassador-"
"He's dead too," interjected Beyond, a strange, satisfied smirk ghosting on his lips. "Oh, I saw him when he was alive, once. I wasn't well received, the man practically kicked me out of his home, and he couldn't have cared less when I told him that my mother was dead." He let out a bout of vicious, crowing chortles. "He slapped a hundred pounds in my hands and made his butler shove me out of the house. And a week after that, the man died. It was all over the news." He shot him a toothy grin. "He died of a… heart-attack."
Something about the older boy's tone of voice, relishing and darkly content, made Raito feel slightly perturbed, a shudder running down his spine.
"That's the end of my tale," said Beyond, crookedly smirking. "Roger found me in London two days before the Ambassador died, and I merely discovered it by watching the news. After that, I never felt like going out again to explore my roots. I had all the answers I was looking for." He pinned him with his crimson-shaded gaze, placidly stretching and leaning back on the bed's headboard. "So what's your story Yagami Raito?"
"I told you to never call me that," interjected Raito sternly, leveling him with a hard gaze. "And I have no story to tell."
Beyond scoffed, before he cocked his head to a side, staring at him with wide, unblinking eyes, as he whispered softly, "I told you mine, Light-kun, it's only fair that you share yours with me. Tell me what happened to Sayu. Tell me what you relive in your nightmares, why you call out her name so guiltily and with such anguish. Someone killed her, right? And you could do nothing to stop it, perhaps because you weren't strong enough-"
"No," snapped Raito incensed, piercing him with a glowering gaze. "It was because I wasn't ruthless enough. Because I miscalculated, because I was still naïve and innocent, and because misguided scruples prevented me from immediately killing her attackers. And that's it. I'm not going to tell you anything more."
"Well, for what it's worth," said Beyond softly, inching his face close to Raito's, "I think the experience changed you for the better. Just like mine made me stronger."
The seventeen-year-old boy tenderly cupped Raito's face, pressing his warm lips against his, before he slowly delved his tongue inside Raito's mouth, wrapping his arms around his waist, pressing them closer together. Raito briefly closed his eyes, leaning into the warm, comforting embrace, a sigh escaping his lips as their tongues rubbed and caressed each other's. That was until he realized what he was doing. Then, he broke from the tender kiss, pushed the other boy away, and rose up to his feet.
"I'm going to sleep," said Raito coolly, his expression closed off, his stance nonchalant. "I'll see you tomorrow during lunch break."
Beyond merely shot him a lopsided grin, gingerly waving a hand at him. And the last thing Raito heard as he left the room and closed the door behind him, was Beyond's voice singing 'Fly me to the moon' in a creepily soft tone, almost as if he was singing a comforting lullaby to himself.
Something softened in Raito's chest, before he ruthlessly pushed that sentiment to a side. And as he made his way to Viviane's room, he began to feel quite satisfied with himself. It was obvious to him that Beyond loosened his tongue after they had their 'intimate' moments; his plan was working. And knowing Watari's real identity was useful, he was certain that he could use it in the future for something. Anything he discovered related to L was well worth spending time with Beyond. Now, he simply had to get rid of the older boy's tantalizing taste from his mouth. And he would improve when kissing Viviane, he would find the way of not imagining Beyond's face and the feel of the boy's body when he forced himself to act passionately with the girl.
Quillish was fondly observing the young man before him, a small smile tugging his lips as he watched how the world's most famed detective eagerly attacked the piece of cake in front of him. He had reported to L all the news concerning the Miami case, seeing how the young man's prodigal mind absorbed the information, undoubtedly piecing the bits of newly discovered clues and coming with more evidence against their suspect. Then, after he had served the large chocolate-and-strawberry cake he had cooked, he had heard from L what was now troubling the young man.
He had understood immediately, and felt a bit troubled himself. Nonetheless, he was glad that the young man he considered a son had finally met someone who interested, challenged, and matched him, and who, evidently, spurred some emotions in the famed detective. It didn't surprise him that L couldn't discern the cause or nature of those emotions, but he had decided that the boy –for L was still a boy in his eyes- would have to figure it out for himself. He would simply nudge him in the right direction.
Moreover, as much as he wished to warmly embrace the young man and to congratulate him for his birthday, he didn't. They always maintained a formal distance between them, and he almost never openly showed his affection for the young man, since he knew that L would feel uncomfortable. Nevertheless, he knew that L was aware of his fondness and fatherly love for him. Therefore, he had no need of displaying anything but patience as he observed how the young man decided to finally voice his question.
L daintily swooped down a spoon, loading it with another large bit of cake, and he swiftly popped open his mouth to welcome the sugary, spongy morsel. With a contented sigh, at last feeling his tummy pleasantly full, while his pupils dilated with the onslaught of sugar rushing through his veins, he settled the spoon on the kitchen's counter.
"So why do I feel anger, Watari?" said L, gazing unblinkingly at the ceiling, a puzzled frown marring his smooth forehead.
"What is it that you don't like?" asked Quillish calmly. "That Andrew is Y or that the boy is obviously spending so much time with Beyond?"
L blinked, and momentarily glanced at him, before he gently nibbled on his thumb. "I don't mind that Andrew-kun is Y. I'm glad, because it indicates that the boy shows promise. And Y isn't competition, yet. Though it's logical to assume that Andrew-kun will still use his Y alias to make a name of himself, and perhaps someday Y will be as famed as I am. It would be fun, it would be a challenge. The only reason why this could worry me is because Andrew-kun doesn't seem to have solid moral values…"
Quillish nodded, yet remained silent as he waited for the young man to reach the real issue. He had been a bit troubled when L had told him about Y's –or should he say, Andrew's- proposed plan to deal with Moscow's case. But, as he had told L, the boy was still young and only needed some guidance. He couldn't imagine a boy like Andrew being a threat, though he knew that L was worried nonetheless.
Despite that he knew that L had only become a detective because the young man needed to find something which challenged his unparalleled mind, he also knew that L had a strong sense of justice and that he had taken that line of work because he wanted to put his brilliance to good use, in betterment of the world. There was an intrinsic goodness in L and the young man still held an innocence about him, which Quillish was thankful for, though it baffled him given the things that L was daily confronted with in his work.
"… I think I'm angry because, according to Roger, Andrew-kun is still spending time with B," concluded L, his frown deepening. "And B is a bad influence on Andrew-kun."
Quillish quietly sighed, knowing what L thought of the other boy. It still pained him, since, admittedly, he hadn't done as much as he could for Beyond, and he had wished that L and the boy would have form some ties. Perhaps it was time to readdress the issue they had discussed so long ago.
"I believe that Beyond is simply trying to get your attention once more," he said quietly. "He has always wished to be included in your life, L, ever since you met him all those years ago and he discovered that you were his older brother."
"I gave him a chance, Watari," interjected L, piercing him with his eyes. "Since my first meeting with him, I knew what he was. Nonetheless, I met him again, when he asked it. And he simply wanted to tell me what he had discovered about the identities of our biological parents. I was never interested in my progenitors. I have you. But he went through with it, and when he told me, he expected me to be happy to know about the Ambassador's death. He gloated about how lucky we were that our 'father' got what he deserved. And it was in his eyes – he's a killer."
"The Ambassador's demise was due to natural causes," pointed out Quillish. "You took over the investigation demanded by his wife, the autopsy was thorough, you supervised it, and there were no indications of any sort of drugs in his blood stream. He died of a natural heart-attack."
"But the Ambassador didn't have any records of heart problems or ailments in his clinical history," said L curtly, absently swooping a fingertip on his piece of cake, then licking it clean. "And my detective instincts are flawless. Even if I don't have the evidence to back up it, I'm never wrong when I suspect someone of committing a crime. And there's no doubt in my mind that B killed the Frenchman. I don't know how, but I hope I'll discover the method he used before he kills again. Because someone like B always kills again, Watari. The only reason the boy is still at school instead of in some juvenile reformatory or mental institution, is because I can't lawfully accuse him of anything. It doesn't matter if he's related to me by blood, he killed once. And because of it, I could never feel any sort of attachment or obligation towards him." He slowly shook his head, and muttered, "The moment I set my eyes on him, I knew what he was. Though, at first, I didn't want to admit it to myself."
"Very well," said Quillish with a soft sigh. "I won't mention this subject again."
L nodded, and gazed unblinkingly at his half-eaten piece of cake. "I would appreciate that."
Quillish started to fix the kitchen, putting the dishes on the sink, arranging pots and pans, but he left L's plate on the counter. When he was done, he glanced over his shoulder, seeing that L still had that troubled and puzzled frown on his face.
A small smile tugged his lips, as he said quietly, "Still wondering about the nature of your anger? It's simple, L. You didn't mind when Roger informed you that Andrew had established a friendship with Mello and Matt, and that he was often seen in the library playing with Near. Yet, it angers you when you hear that the boy is often seen in Beyond's company, and that they are, perhaps, intimately involved. Wouldn't you say that this is very telling?"
He reached L, and placed a hand on his shoulder, making the young man gaze up at him. "I only hope that you'll wait for a few years. Andrew is only fourteen, after all. He's still too young. I also hope that it won't cloud your judgment."
Quillish walked out of the kitchen, leaving the young detective to his own musings, and L merely stared unblinkingly at the old man's retreating back, his mind rushing forth with the implications of the man's words.
Wait a few years – for what? L blinked, wondering about the mysterious little smile that Quillish had shot him. What was Andrew-kun too young for? What could cloud his judgment? Nothing whatsoever clouded his judgment - ever.
He daintily grabbed a strawberry from his plate, about to pop it into his mouth, when his hand froze mid-way, his mouth parting open, agape. Quillish thought that he… It was preposterous! Of course he didn't, he had never had those types of… feelings for anyone. His mind swirled and rushed with countless calculations, delving into exploring and introspective thoughts. At last, he popped the strawberry into his awaiting mouth, and munched it down musingly. As always, he was nothing if not completely sincere and straightforward with himself. And his conclusions were amazingly astounding. Quillish could be right. His anger could be caused by jealousy after all, probably also tinted with possessiveness. Incredible. The only things he had ever felt possessive over were his cases and his food.
L blinked, his eyes widening, a dazed, little smile tugging his lips. Yes, perhaps he did like Andrew-kun that way. He was still stunned by the flabbergasting realization, and he felt a fluttering sensation of excitement tingling in his stomach, and it wasn't hunger, he was sure of that. His little grin widened. Well, wasn't this unexpected event in his life thrilling? He never thought it would happen, and he found himself rather liking it. Oh, of course that he wouldn't allow his judgment to be impaired and that he would be as tough on the boy as ever. But he was L, and he had the right to grasp the one person who seemed to be his match in brilliancy and genius. Furthermore, Quillish was right, he had years in which to weave his web to ensnare Andrew-kun. And in the end, if he still thought that Andrew-kun was worthy, then he would have him. Nothing would affect his work, after all, so he could indulge in attempting to have some sort of personal relationship. It would be a challenge, as well! The type of challenge he had never expected to want, but which seemed exciting given its unusualness.
L's grin turned into a devious, little quirk of his lips. The arrogant, narcissistic, deceiving little brat wouldn't know what hit him.