Death Note, What’s Really Strange

Title: What’s Really Strange [Raito/L if you squint]
Warnings/Rating: PG cause…well, handcuffs.
Summary: This should be much weirder than it is. And that’s not the weird part.
AN: no, i don’t ever actually take notes during Roman History. I think my L needs a lot of work. *pokes*

What’s Really Strange

The biggest problem with being handcuffed to L is that Raito needs a lot more sleep than L does. Or rather, nobody in the world needs as little sleep as L.

L shows a surprising amount of what looks like sympathy, but Raito knows is the result of a complex equation where x equals the average amount of sleep Raito claims to need and y is how many creamers L has drank like shots that night and z is how many times Misa has interrupted them to rub herself against Raito, and it all equals how many hours of consecutive Kira-hunting can occur before Raito begins to ‘accidentally’ catch the handcuff chain under the wheels of his chair.

“Please sleep when you need to, Yagami-kun,” L had said. “The bed is large enough that there is plenty of room, and I will bring the laptop.”

When L was building this headquarters, Raito wonders if he planned the size of his bed with a moment like this in mind, and is more than moderately sure that he had. He wonders how L brought this facet of his plan up with his father.

What is most bizarre is how normal it all seems after a few days of adjusting, but then again after showering while hadcuffed to another boy while your father and his friends watch via closed-circuit television, falling asleep to the clacking of L’s laptop keys is not that hard a sell.

What’s really strange is when Raito wakes up in the middle of the night and the keys are not clacking, and he turns his head to find L sprawled out and comatose.

It’s surprising how tall L is when not contorted into one of his collapsed postures, as if his body is ignoring bone structure and gravity to decompress while it has the chance. The wild hair, the dark smudges under his eyes, without the flaying intensity of his stare L looks almost like the exhausted teenager he is. Or might be.

Raito wonders how long it will take him to start looking like L, and thinks that maybe he should just give up now and succumb, or at least start going barefoot because it looks pleasant to scrunch your toes in the carpet.

Would going barefoot and scrunching his toes in the carpet raise or lower L’s percentage of certainty about whether he is Kira?

“Seventeen point oh percent,” L mumbles in his sleep, and Raito narrows his eyes. He’s still nettled by the insight of L asking whether Raito would chose to give up the Kira power, nettled that it has pretty much solidified Raito’s suspicion that a good deal of his recent memories have been either altered or fabricatd entirely, and L’s apparent ability to read Raito’s mind even while unconscious is not improving his mood.

Something is wrong here. Raito has felt out of step with L for days, as if he is operating under a different set of data, as if he is part of the investigative team instead of being ahead of it, where L is.

Raito hates it. Something is wrong, something is missing, and Raito is going to…

“Raito-kun is grinding his teeth,” L murmurs, and Raito looks down at L, who has been watching him. He has in fact been grinding his teeth. Does Kira grind his teeth? Raito unclenches his jaw.

“Just thinking,” he answers, but L is already aleep again, maybe asleep, and Raito thinks about pinching himself to see if he is dreaming but suspects his psyche isn’t tortured enough yet to come up with something as ridiculous as L.

Raito is going to do nothing, except for grind his teeth and maybe scrunch his toes in the carpet although the jury is still out on that, because L might be a scholiatic sociopath, but he isn’t stupid.

Be the first to like.

Like

Unlike