☆WRITTEN IN JUNE, 2018☆

NO THIS ISNT FAIR
Goddamn WattPad deleting my Goddamn story
AGHGHH
Okay, well, I was going to re-vamp it anyway. THIS is why we do back ups.
Anyway, so suffice it to say, the plot of this was going to be slightly different before, but here's the rundown.

I was watching the first OVA, "Relight One" and saw Lind L. Tailor's Guinea pig thing go down, and I was like well...shit...with my own personal history with depression I'd sign up to do that...so, in this update, a suicidal reader signs up to work on the Kira case, and ends up sticking around longer than she wanted, because well, read on and see.

It ends happily, and it's short in comparison to my other stuff!

If you want to know more about said "personal history", i.e. my experience with feeling the way the reader does in the story, check out To the Most Beautiful Girl in the World on my other page: PRIVUS. It goes into some detail about it.

This is in the reader's P.O.V., just FYI! I thought I'd mix it up. Seemed fun.

Aight den, lets go!

(Lines indicate time skips, as always.)

_____________

I sigh, looking at myself in the mirror, getting dressed. I hate it. Every time I do this, I'm faced with all my failures.

I should be in graduate school.
I should be more physically fit.
I should be doing something with my life other than wasting time.
I hate this.
I hate myself.

I look at my wall. My eyes scan over all the things in which I've found joy in the past. The religious artefacts, crucifixes, images of my life, pictures of friends and family, make me feel something, a good sign at least, and I know I can't take this into my own hands. It would be a sin.

The clock on my wall indicates I have a few hours before work. I've been sick recently, on top of everything else. I've put in a notice, decided to quit because of it. This is awful. I'm losing my faith, slowly, and I need more help than I've got. I lay down on my bed, stroking my dog, who seems to want to answer my prayers, but can't, and flip on my TV, a gift from my father after we moved to Tokyo, reminding me of my namesake- the inheritance my life provides comes with relative luxury, and I should be grateful instead of miserable. People tell me it's not my fault, it's something I can treat, but it doesn't help. I still feel useless, ugly and stupid, no matter what they say, and I know they mean it. They love me. I can't hurt them by hurting myself more than I already am. That would be unfair, and though I don't really think it's selfish to want an escape, it'd be self-serving to do it- I can't take my own life. I can't kill myself. I have to find another way to end it all.

I flip through the channels until a surprising news story reveals something I wasn't expecting. The Kira investigation has been discussed here, as much as anywhere else, but now, L, a detective my cousin worked alongside back in The States, has gone and exposed the man he's been targeting being from right here in Japan, beside me the whole time. He could be anyone. I could know him.

Maybe there's a reason I came here after all.

I switch the set off as quickly as I turned it on and race down to call someone I know can help me.

In my Father's study, I dial a foreign number. After several rings, a young man's voice fills my ear. It lifts my spirits, if only slightly, to know he's elated to hear from me.

"{Y/N}!!!!" My cousin practically sings. "How've you been, bro?"

"Sargent {L/N}." I snicker at his familiar address. "I need a favour."

"Anything."

It takes some convincing, but I finally get him to agree to let me do something that can put me in directly the harm's way I desperately seek.

"Are you sure?"

I laugh. "Of course, {Cousin's F/N}. It's a  {L/N} right of passage, isn't it?"

"He'll be there around noon." I hang up and lean back, gazing up at the rising sun, the titular motif of the land I now call home.

_____________

I sigh, leaning back against the wall after what felt like the fifth time I've personally licked the asshole of yet another snobby, rich upper-crust client at the high end chocolate shop I manage at the mall nearest my home.

I check my watch. It's nearly time. I grin at the sound of footsteps approaching, but I'm discouraged by the face before me.

Clearly, it's not the officer I was expecting. Black, shaggy hair falls across dark eyes as a young man who looks like the last thing he needs is another dark chocolate espresso peers up at me.

"Can I help you?"

"You can."

He did not. My high school linguistics teacher was the last person who dared to correct my grammar like that. I groan. He clearly isn't rich. He can't possibly plan on buying much. I won't lose a sale. What harm can a little sass do?

"MAY I help you, Einstein?" I lean forward. "I don't expect you want-"

"I'll have that." He points to the most expensive item on display. "Two of them."

I raise an eyebrow. "Why two?"

"One's for you." He states, matter-of-factly. "You are the first civilian who's agreed to help the case this much, or, at least, to this degree. I applaud your dedication to justice."

"You're...the..." I stammer. He holds out way more money than I expected from someone better dressed for a hot date with a waifu pillow and his PS3 than one in charge of anything, let alone an international investigation. I take it.

"Keep the change."

"What's your name?"

"That's classified. For now." I get his order, or, I suppose our order ready.

"I'm not off for a few hours."

"I can wait." He leans forward. "Tell me about yourself. He turns to look around. "This place is pretty dead, anyway."

I smile, oddly enough, genuinely, for the first time in a while, I feel something other than abject sorrow.

I still plan on going through with this, though.

_____________

"Are you sure you want to do it?" It's strange, hearing him be so emotional, but it's undeniable- he doesn't want me to.

"Of course I do." I shrug his hand away. A few of the others on our task force clear their throats. "It's been months and we have no leads. I'm a decent enough target. I work for you guys, but I'm not vital to the success of the case. I don't care if-"

"Watari." He interrupts me. "Could you see to it we're alone for a while?"

"We'll leave!" One younger member pipes up. I'm not sure of his name. I didn't care to learn most. "We'll go, {Y/N}." He turns around as the others follow suit. Still, he lingers behind. "Ryuzaki, take care of her." He says it so only we can hear before he's the last one out.

I'm stunned. Soon enough, I sit, uninterrupted, with the man who's agreed to lure Kira into writing my name down in a crazy public power move. He looks like he wants to change his mind.

"I won't let you." I begin. "I want to do-" he leans forward.

"Are you depressed?" I blink.

"What? No!" I lie, my voice failing me. He is smart. Like, too smart. "I'm just..." I can't finish.

"You are." He raises a hand, and, to my great shock, brushes my hair away from my face. "Don't be."

"It's easier said than done." I move away.

"I know." He moves closer. "I don't like it, though, seeing you so sad. You're-"

"I'm what?" I catch his wrist when he raises it higher. "I'm what, Ryuzaki?"

"You can call me L when we're alone."

"This is the first time we've been-" he cuts me off, and I don't put up any sort of defence. At first I'm too bemused, but then, I start to feel something else. I lower my hand; his locks in it. I can't believe what's happening.

I break away. "Alone!" I find breathing suddenly a monumental task. "And you kissed me!" I scoff. "You!" I don't move away. "You don't seem to like that sort of-" he does it again. I move closer without much thought.

"It's because I've never done that sort of thing." He breaks away, holding my face in his hands. "But it sounded fun. Or, at least," Did someone put him up to this? "It sounded like it might make you happy."

"Was it a suggestion?" I glance over. The monitor shows articles, indicative of a different motive. "Were you researching something?"

"I thought you were ill." He seems sincere. He is. It's hard to argue otherwise. "I like you, {Y/N}. I don't want you to die."

"I want to die." My eyes tear up. "I hate myself." He lets me go.

"Why? Why could someone like you hate yourself?"

"I'm ugly. I'm stupid. I'm weak. I'm angry all the time. I live at home, I'm afraid of everything and I'm just so...tired. I'm tired of seeing the world remain so terrible."

"So, fight to change it." He adjusts his stance. He always sits so weirdly. "With us. Or, with me." He's closer than ever. "No one can change it alone."

"I won't change." I reply, still crying. "I'll stay the same." I raise my hand, to wipe my eyes, and he catches my wrist, just as I did earlier to his.

"Don't. I like you exactly how you are." He holds up a finger, countering all my previous assertions as to why I'm detestable. "You're beautiful. You're intelligent. You're strong, stronger than me." He looks down, then down at me. "I'm sure you'd hold your own in any sport, other than tennis. I'm good at that."

I actually laugh. "You're right. I'm terrible at it."

"We'll play sometime." He smiles, and I feel something I haven't before now, not for a long time anyway. I'd be a fool to call it happiness but it's something. It's a good sign, but bad in a different regard. It could lead me to change my mind.

"Ryuzak...L...I-" he cuts me off again.

"I'm not finished." He holds me at arms length, lowering my hand in his. "You're not the only one who's afraid. Everyone is. And, as far as being tired goes, I never sleep." He smiled again. "Justice requires constant vigilance. I know that's not exactly what you meant." He smiles softly. My heart beats faster.

"Justice." I repeat, disregarding his clarification. I understood what was more important, what he meant just fine. For some reason, maybe solely in this moment, what I wanted out of my time here -dying young and relatively needlessly- no longer seems like an upholding of justice, but rather the opposite. It feels like I'd be quitting a race early. Hell, I might even be in the lead. If I leave now, I'll never know my place, where I could finish, how far I've come. I can't win if I quit. "So...if I did change my mind, if I stay-" he cuts me off again. It's the third time this has happened.

He breaks away. "I'd be happy for once, too. You're more like me than you know, {Y/N}."

_____________

That was almost a year ago. I've been working with the task force for longer than any other job I've had. I actually enjoy it, too. I also enjoyed quitting my old position and telling my former boss, well, something crude. I couldn't call him what I wanted because there were kids nearby, so I improvised. It was fun. I had fun being a little selfish for once.

I've been careful to call L L around just him, and Ryuzaki in front of the others, too. We're alone quite frequently. He arranges it more often than not.

This time, though, I've planned our meeting. I'm bringing him home today, to meet my family. It seems so normal, but I know it's not. I know his life, what he does, is far from typical. He'll never be average. Nether of us will. That's comforting in some ways, and in others, it's the exact opposite.

I'm still afraid. He makes me feel better about myself, and I've agreed to seek help from a therapist and a few doctors, but I know someone's going to hurt him, or at least, they'll try.

I have a feeling I won't be the one leaving the world early, but if that happens, if L dies, I'd have more than a good enough reason to stay alive.

I'd find and end the one who killed him.

I hate someone else now, and Kira's what's wrong with this world. Not me.

My prior agenda seems insane as I greet my newest friend, or, more so, someone I might actually come to love.

"Ready?" He holds out a box.

"What's this?"

"A gift. You can open it now or later."

"I'll wait until later." I start walking, wondering what could be in the little blue package. I wanted to walk to my house from the station. He agreed, surprisingly, and keeps pace easily.

"There's something I want to say."

I continue walking, not noticing he stopped. It's somewhat colder out than usual. The air is thinner. Fall is on the way. The sunny days which never truly lifted my moods are few and far between, but this afternoon, the light is nearly blinding as I shade my eyes from an acute citrine gleam. It sparkles off the tops of cars and radiates off the waters in nearby fountains.

"{Y/N}," it's hard to see as I turn back. "I love you."

I stop walking, too, and I recognise the feeling of something I never thought I'd feel again.

My eyes well up, but it's not from sadness.

It's joy. I'm actually, finally happy again.

I step forward. "I love you, too, L."

_____________

Wooooooo okay. That one had to have been shorter. I hope it was nice! I tried to make it that way: corto y kawaii.

Lemme know if anyone wants to see anything/anyone else!

Best wishes always,
~ Britt