Home

Chapter 15 - Interlude

L POV

It was a forgone conclusion that I would die in the course of my work. Whether it be struck down in my prime or succumbing in my sleep after a long illustrious career, it was inevitable.

Dying itself didn't bother me. If it was due to the resolution of a case, it would obviously be for a worthy cause. Life to me didn't seem as precious as people considered it and as improbable as it might be, I imagined a prospect of a place beyond. After all, with such wonders the universe had wrought, it would be wrong to discount an afterlife entirely.

Then I found something that made life far more interesting than I ever had thought.

When I was eighteen years of age, I was extraordinarily busy with no thought for anything else but my highly involved duties. I returned back to the school in the south of England where I was raised for a short respite before my next case. Whenever I returned, the other students gave me a wide berth and spoke about me with hushed voices. This occasion was no different. I always ignored them since acknowledging their gossip or misguided awe would turn it into a habit. Unfortunately, it had formed itself into one without my intervention.

I had arrived at supper time after a fifteen hour flight and Watari had shepherded me into the dining room, deciding it was more important for me to eat instead of sleep. I highly wished for the latter, partly because dessert wasn't ready to be served quite yet, but I followed him, hoping to make it quick. All of the inquisitive eyes that fell on me as soon as I entered a room made me feel uncomfortable, rather like I was an extraterrestrial life form, but I pressed on to endure the company of the others, if only to please my kind benefactor.

Anne Walters smiled, welcoming as always as I seated myself across from her at the head table. Her close friend, Grace Deacon, in contrast, glared at me over her half eaten main course. Not a word of greeting came from her lips, and I had learned long ago not to expect one. I wouldn't hear her voice until she was ready to cause a disturbance, which knowing our inability to keep civil, wouldn't be far from then.

I disliked greatly that she was my number two. She was far too emotionally invested in people to be a decent L and she never wanted to learn anything from me about the position at all. Instead, she wished to be out on her own cases, throwing herself at the mercy of any villain with a devil may care attitude that I simply could not tolerate. The foolish girl had a death wish.

When I died, she'd take my place, picking up where I left off, tracking down a drug cartel in South America or a terrorist in Berlin and probably being hurt or killed in the process. She was merely sixteen and had no clue what faced her outside of the sheltered school. She was entirely unsuitable and Watari refused to take her out of the order. I was not used to my opinion not influencing others, but at Wammy's House, my voice was only as loud as everyone else's. I had learned to deal with it.

I coldly stared back at her and tucked my napkin in the collar of my shirt. She was fortunate our home had the semblance of a democracy.

Despite all of this, I wondered why she loathed me so, I did not believe she knew about my efforts to oust her from the order, but regardless, day in and day out for countless years, she had avoided me, and when that was physically impossible, she exploded at me instead. It astounded me how much fire was in that small frame and it was during that first outburst not long after supper that I had an interesting revelation.

"You think you're so bloody perfect," I remember her snarling as we came to blows in the dining room which had immediately cleared after supper. She stood, banging her fist on the table at the end of her accusation to further drive her point. I cannot even recall what this eruption was about, but as she ranted, I noticed her eyes took on a violet shade. It only appeared for a moment before the original color returned but I felt a compelling need to see the color change again. I had never noticed it before.