Light, Now Turn Back and Die (Lawlight)

Inked

L heads to the courts first thing the next morning. Light's already beaten him there, looking impeccable as always as he warms up. He stretches his arms high above his head, the muscles of his arms visible in the short sleeve white shirt. As it turns out, Light does own more clothes than just his school uniform. A clean and pressed white set, either tailored to his form or somehow perfectly fitted adorns him. L, in contrast, is still in his usual clothing of a white long sleeve and baggy jeans. He hardly needs fancy clothes to be good at tennis. Light notices him coming and lets out a bark of laughter.
    "You're wearing that? Jeez, Ryuzaki, it's like you've already admitted defeat." He casually swings his racket to lay across his shoulder. Oh, that smarmy bastard, he thinks he's going to win because he's a well-groomed prodigy, does he? L stretches his lips to grin.
    "Light-Kun should know that appearances aren't everything. An expensive outfit does not an athlete make." L picks up one of the tennis balls, tosses it in his hand a few times, and tilts his chin in challenge. Light's eye twitches and the cocky smile becomes strained. He's so easy to rile.
    "Then I guess I'll just have to go all out, won't I? Best of three?"
L takes his place opposite Light on the court. "As you wish." Light's barely in place when L tosses the ball high and slams his racket into it. The ball is a green blur until it slams into the fence behind with a violent rattle. Light follows its path, startled. He quickly rearranges his face into a more competitive grimace.
    "So we're going all out then, are we?"
"He who strikes first wins," L replies.
Light picks up the fallen ball and tosses it over the net. L catches it with ease, settles into position, and serves again. The game quickly picks up speed, launching and dodging as the tennis ball blurs between them. There's no time for banter anymore, only laser focus. A small crowd gathers not long after they begin to play in earnest. It mostly consists of bored students and a few members of the tennis team. Out of the corner of his eye, L can see them swelling with excitement at each smack of racket against the ball. There are whispers, aborted shouts, and an uproarious cheer as Light is just a touch too fast for him, scoring the first official point of the game. Sweat trickles down his brow. He's got to play this strategically. Light's strong, fast, and aggressive, L will need to catch him off balance and shoot between his movements.
    He falls back to a more defensive play, focusing on luring Light forward, then makes a smaller hit that forces him to lunge forward. Exploiting that second of distraction, he returns Light's hit as hard as he can. Light has no hope of reaching it in time.
    A student has set themselves as a referee, calling out, "One point for Ryuzaki!" They're even now, and the tension rises all the more. L narrows his eyes. He will win.
    Everything fades away until it's only them and the harsh court underneath their sneakers. L dives, Light volleys back, they glare at each other and—
    "It's a tie!"
What?
L staggers back, gasping for air. Light is in a similar state. Sweat plasters his hair to his forehead and his eyes shine flinty in the morning sunlight. It's strange for a human to have such red eyes.
"A... tie?" Light wipes the sweat off of his forehead. He looks just as stunned as L feels. That wasn't supposed to happen. He glances at Light. He jogs to L's side of the court and holds his hand out. "You're pretty good, I have to admit. We'll need to do a rematch sometime."
L shakes his hand. They're both sweaty, so it's kind of gross, and both grimace in mild discomfort.
"Probably should have gotten towels first," Light remarks.
"Probably," L agrees. "But I'll take you up on that rematch offer sometime." Light looks genuinely delighted to hear that, perking up despite his exhaustion. Now when he slings his racket across his shoulders L notices the muscles usually hidden beneath layers of uniform. He's stronger than he looks.
The two of them grab towels and start to pack up their things. Seeing that the entertainment is over, most of the crowd disperses. Thank god, L is getting sick of all this attention. "So you exercise a lot, do you?"
Light uses the towel to wipe himself off as they both trudge to the showers. "I try to. It's always good to be fit, don't you agree?" He looks L up and down incredulously as if he doesn't think someone like him would understand.
"I do think I've proven myself well with my performance on the court today," L replies curtly. Light's cheeks pinken faintly, he hastily removes his gaze. Is he embarrassed for judging L? Good.
"Ahem. Yes, you did, very much so, I wasn't trying to imply— Hm. Never mind, we should get cleaned up." Light hurries into the showers, his face now bright red. Wow, he's actually at a loss for words? L laughs to himself. If that's all it takes to throw Light Yagami off-balance, L should do it more.
The showers are empty when they step in. It's an expanse of somewhat grimy white tile, though otherwise not very messy. L tugs his sweat-soaked shirt over his head with a groan of relief. His hygienic standards aren't very high, but this is the line in the sand. He gives the shirt a small sniff and immediately recoils. Light lets out a wheezy chuckle.
"We went wild during that match."
"No kidding." L drops the offending shirt, adds the rest of his clothes to the pile, and turns the shower on until the water is hot enough to sting slightly. The drone of the water drowns out the silence, but L can't bring himself to relax. His gaze draws over to Light, whose eyes are closed against the spray that hits his face. First of all, what kind of freak showers with their face in the water?
Secondly, is that a fucking tattoo? L does a double take but no, it's definetly there. It's small, nestled in the inner curve of his left ankle. Light shifts his foot and it's hidden again, but L knows what he saw. A small kanji, the number four. Light, with his eyes closed, hasn't noticed his staring. L looks away before he can. Why does Light have a tattoo of the number four? Japan has a huge stigma against tattoos and regardless of that, Light is seventeen! A horrible thought crosses L's mind. Is Light... in a gang? No, that's ridiculous. Someone so refined would never take part in something like that.
L dumps a glob of shampoo into his hand and rubs it over his scalp idly. It's another new mystery for him to uncover. Hair snags around his fingers, and L has to pry himself free with an annoyed grunt. Perhaps he should invest in a hairbrush, it always gets so tangled when he shampoos.
"Have you considered conditioner?" Light interrupts his struggling with a condescending laugh. "I mean— it's just an idea but I'm sure it'll help."
"Sounds like an exercise in vanity," L says. He's getting sick of Light's attitude. One day he defends L from bullies looking down on him, then he looks down on L instead. "And it's rude to stare."
"Self care isn't vanity. Besides, you've spent the past week just watching me all the time, I think you've got me beat with the creepy staring. Take it, come on." Conditioner is shoved in his face until L is forced to grab it.
"So pushy. Let me guess, you were a spoiled child that always got his way? Gifted, maybe?"
Light rolls his eyes, not even trying to hide his annoyance. "My sister's the spoiled one, actually. Does everything have to be a therapy session with you? I just wanted you to use some conditioner, no deeper meaning."
L slathers his hair, hating that it does help with the tangles and stringiness. "You don't seem the type to do things without meaning."
"I think you're just bored and looking for mind games where there aren't any. Chill out, Ryuzaki." Light turns off his water, picks up a towel, and disappears behind the lockers to get dressed. Maybe Light's right, L's always been a chronic overthinker. L scrubs his hair until the water runs clear before following.
His hair's never been so soft before, drooping in long strands down his neck. The sticky wetness is gross. He's quick to ruffle himself with a towel until his hair stops dripping, now sticking up in all directions. At least it's not plastered to his skin anymore. He should ask him.
"What's with the tattoo?" Light stiffens. L hazards a glance over at him, and Light is watching him in return.
"What do you mean?"
"On your ankle, the four?"
Light's mouth wobbles into a deranged little smile. "Oh!" He laughs, a tad forced. "I uh— I got it in my first year on a dare. It's a stick and poke, but it never faded. Don't mention it, please? I could get in huge trouble."
A shoddy lie, but L has to admire the speed with which he slapped it together. It closes off any pursuit L could make of the point, since Light clearly won't give.
"Our secret," He promises. Light nods frantically. Both turn back to their bags, unanswered questions hanging heavy in the air.
L's zipping up his jeans when Light decides to look up from his duffle bag. Instead of the school uniform, he's in casual clothes. An honest to god long sleeve shirt and a pair of brown slacks, is L dreaming?
He tugs his shirt over his head and tries, but fails to smooth down his hair. It'll never look as groomed as Light's, so he's not sure why he bothers.
"Ready to go?" Light asks. L zips up his bag with a nod. "I'm gonna get some breakfast from the cafeteria, would you like to join m–"
Buzz. Light's cut off by the hum of a phone. That's L's phone, shit! He digs into his bag and picks up the call.
"L." It's Watari. L turns to Light and presses his fingers to his lips. The audio is fairly quiet, so Light shouldn't be able to hear, but L steps away regardless.
"Yes?" He says.  Light watches him quizzically and doesn't keep walking.
"Chief Yagami talked to a few people. He's managed to get permission to access four of the bodies, would you be prepared to come in this afternoon?" Shit, that was fast, L's glad he decided to keep his day free.
"Y-yes, I can. Is there anything else I should know ahead of time?" He can't help the accusatory note that enters his voice. Aizawa was an unpleasant surprise, he doesn't need another.
Watari chuckles. "No, not as far as I know. Be ready by three, I'll get you then."
"Understood." The call ends with a beep. L stuffs his phone away and gives Light a thumbs up. He gets a raised eyebrow in return.
"What was that about?"
L brushes past him. "Must Light-Kun always know my personal business?" A warm hand pushes between his shoulder blades and shoves him lightly.
"Just making conversation you cagey little bastard."
"Little?"
Light waves his hand above L's head. "Yep! I have about an inch on you." L frowns at that. No way Light is taller than him.
"That's because I hunch," he shoots back, straightening up with a crack. Light jolts at the noise, then blanches. Now it's L's turn to be smug, he's at least two inches taller than Light is. "You were saying?"
Light fumes silently all the way to the cafeteria. It's nice to shut him up for once.
    There are only a few students milling about when they get there, leaning against tables or idly chatting. They're a bit late for the breakfast rush hour, thank god. L makes a beeline for the cafe. Light doesn't share the same mindset, he heads off to stand in line for the breakfast sandwiches. It's probably the healthier choice, but who cares when there are mini cakes?  L buys five. He's burnt quite a few calories, after all. Light waves him over to a table in the corner away from the other students. L slumps into his seat with his spoils, beaming proudly. Light rolls his eyes behind his half-eaten egg sandwich.
    "Sweets will rot your teeth."
"Then it's good I brush regularly." L stuffs the first cake into his mouth, succeeding in smearing frosting across his cheeks and nose. Light watches with abject horror as L inhales three more.
    "Remind me to never get in an eating contest with you."
L wipes his mouth off with the back of his hand. "I haven't eaten today, I was hungry." but he does slow down a little and picks up a fork instead of using his bare hands.
    Light leaves him be for a while. It gives L time to look around the cafeteria to see who's running around. He spots a flash of blonde pigtails near the back entrance. Misa's standing and chatting with Takada. She looks unhappy, whatever they're talking about must be unpleasant. Takada leans in and pokes Misa's chest with a glare. Misa smacks her hand away and storms off. What's that about? Turning back to Light he sees he isn't the only one watching. They exchange a look and Light shrugs. Teen drama, maybe.
    Finished with his food, Light crumples up the foil it came in. His fingers twitch nervously against the table. Finally, he lets out a resigned sigh and turns to L.
    "Um. I don't know who else to bring this up to, so let me know if this is a bit too much, but..." Light leans in close. L mimics in, straining to hear his quiet words. "Have you been getting nightmares about the bodies too?"
    Whatever he expected, this isn't it. L is taken aback for a moment by the open honesty in Light's gaze.
    "I suppose, a little. It's certainly been on my mind."
"Do you feel guilty?" Light looks a bit desperate now. He's halfway out of his seat, breath ghosting against L's cheek. Somehow, he smells of spearmint. "Like— like you could have stopped it?"
    "What is this about?" L asks. There must be some ulterior motive, because there always is, and Light looks far angrier than a terrified teenager should.
    "Answer the question." Realizing L's unease, he softens. His harsh eyes instead shimmer gently, and his frown turns into a tiny smile. "Please."
    Light Yagami is an incredible actor.
"Sometimes," L answers truthfully. He's not sure how he could lie about that without looking terrible. Light drops his head.
    "I'm sorry, I don't know what that was. It's just... it's like you're the only one who understands how this feels."
    Carefully, as if opposite a cornered animal, L pats Light's arm. "I know this must be difficult for you. Misa was there too, I'm sure you could talk to her—"
    "Hah! Misa? You think she gets it? L, she's not like us. She doesn't understand." Light shakes his head in disgust at the thought.
That makes L pause. Misa might not be a genius, but he doesn't think she's worth such contempt. "What do you mean by 'like us'?"
    "Oh come on L, surely you've noticed it too. Nobody can keep up with us in classes, and I know for a fact you can think circles around everyone, and just choose not to. I've never met anyone who can match my pace like you can in literally everything. We're different than them."
    "I think you might just have a superiority complex," L murmurs. Light grabs his arms, head shaking violently.
    "No! Don't play coy, you know exactly what I'm talking about." Unfortunately, L does, but he'll die before he admits he's anything like Light.
"You're going to work yourself into a frenzy," he says instead. Right now the diplomatic route is best. He knows that trauma can make people act very strange, and tries not to hold it against Light. "Maybe take some time to calm down, then try to reformulate."
    Light lets him go. L rubs his arms, unsettled with the unwelcome touch. He's going to have to talk to Light about the constant squeezing and yanking around. Frustration is written clear in the line of his brow. When it's clear L won't budge, Light slackens in surrender.
"You do know," He whispers. L barely manages to hide his nervous swallow.