Far Side of the Moon - Lunalit_river (2024)

Chapter 1: Embark

Chapter Text

“Do you know where Kira is 97% of the time?” L asked, pausing briefly before answering his own question: “In Japan.”

“Japan?” Watari replied, his voice slightly bemused.

L gave a small nod in response. The moonlight filtered through the raindrops on the windows, casting shifting shadows on the figures in the dimly-lit room.

“I see. I will arrange you and M to go to Japan.”

L's face showed hesitation at the mention of M. He was normally comfortable with her accompanying him on trips, but something seemed to be troubling him.

The old man noticed his hesitation.

“Is there anything you are concerned about?”

“There's a possibility that,” his words hung in the air for a moment,

“I may not be able to come back here.”

M picked up a piece of sushi with her chopsticks, but before she could bring it to her mouth, L quickly snatched it with his own chopsticks and ate it himself.

"Hey, that's mine!" M protested, choosing another piece of tuna sushi and popping it in. "You don't even like sushi."

“I don't, but I love stealing it from you.” He replied with a mischievous grin on his face, his mouth still munching on the food.

M pretended to be annoyed about it, "Fine then, keep stealing from me and eating it all."

“I noticed you’ve been busy with Watari recently,” remarked M, as she dipped another nigiri into some soy sauce. “Do you want to talk about it?”

He paused, chopsticks still poised between his lips. Nothing could be hidden from this woman, he thought with a sigh. He looked up to see her innocent gaze fixed on him, thoughtfully chewing on the nigiri in her mouth as she waited patiently for his response.

"This new case I’m dealing with," said L, finally breaking the silence. "It's taking me to Japan."

M noticed a shift in L's demeanor as he hesitated to continue. His mention of the new case previously gave her a feeling of unease, and the fact that L felt the need to physically go to Japan made her realize the gravity of the situation.

Despite her involvement in some of L's leading cases before, this case was unlike any other they had encountered, and she could tell that he was hesitant to take her with him. Still, she couldn't bear the thought of being left behind.

"I'm coming with you," she said firmly, meeting his gaze with determination.

L paused for a moment, considering her request, and finally relented.

"Alright," he said. "We'll leave for Japan tomorrow."

Chapter 2: Meredith

Chapter Text

L fixated his gaze on the three screens before him, displaying a myriad of charts and data analysis. He felt M approached him from behind and enveloped him with her arms. They both shifted their attention towards the screens.

"Are you busy?" M lightly planted a kiss on L's cheek. "What are you looking at?"

"I have confirmed that Kira is a student." L paused, bringing his thumb to his lips before continuing, "I'm just trying to gather more clues."

M peered at the screens and flashed a smile. "Looks like the schedule of a third-year high school student."

L inquired, "How so?"

"If it were a first or second-year student, they would have club activities after school," M gestured towards the time on the screen, "but third-year students are busy preparing for university entrance exams and are not required to participate in clubs. Unless Kira didn't participate in any clubs, which is uncommon for Japanese students, it must be a senior student."

Her name was Nanami Miru (七海咲来). Miru is the first name, last name Nanami, in case anyone who is not familiar with Japanese names.

Watari led the small black-haired girl out of the courtroom, her hand tightly clasped in his. They weaved through the bustling corridors, the sound of footsteps and murmurs filling the air as barristers rushed past them. The oppressive atmosphere of the courtroom seemed to impede their movements like a thick fluid, until they finally stepped outside into the open air. A sleek black car awaited them, its engine humming quietly in the background. As they made their way towards the car, the girl's small and warm hand remained tightly grasped in Watari's, the clamor of the courthouse fading behind them.

As they settled into the car, the engine's low hum filled the space around them. Watari glanced at the girl beside him and reached out to gently caress her head. She flinched slightly, and he paused.

"Miru," Watari said in a gentle tone, "You will be spending some time with me at Wammy House from now on, my dear. I hope that arrangement is to your liking.'"

"You may not be familiar with Wammy House, Miru," Watari continued, "but it is a place for gifted children who may have nowhere else to go. It's a safe haven for those who possess exceptional talents."

The girl looked up at Watari and nodded. She had dark, dark brown eyes, almost black in their intensity. They were large and expressive, yet held a sense of guardedness that made it difficult to read her true thoughts and feelings. The car lapsed into silence once more, as Miru gazed at the passing scenery outside the car window. The noise of the city slowly faded away, replaced by the sounds of birds chirping and leaves rustling in the breeze.

As the car approached Wammy's House, the gates slowly opened, allowing them to pass through. The mansion was situated in a remote area, surrounded by lush greenery. The exterior was made of dark gray stones, giving it a gothic appearance that was both imposing and impressive. Watari stepped out of the car and extended his hand to the girl. She hesitated for a moment before taking it, and they walked into the house together.

They navigated the labyrinthine corridors, Watari introduced the impressive common areas and rooms, one after the other. Miru observed her surroundings with detachment, not easily impressed by opulence despite her wealthy upbringing. Nevertheless, she couldn't help but appreciate the attention to detail in the design of each space, the meticulous organization of the rooms, and the state-of-the-art equipment.

Children ran past them, laughing and playing games outside on the lush green lawn, while others were quietly engrossed in books or puzzles. Miru observed the lively and carefree atmosphere around her with guarded curiosity, unsure of what to make of it.

Each new space they entered offered a new experience for Miru, from the spacious gymnasium to the cozy study nooks tucked away in secluded corners. Each room had its own charm and purpose, and she could see herself spending hours exploring and learning new things at Wammy House. Despite her initial skepticism, Miru couldn't deny that there was something special about this place.

“Perhaps you might find this room interesting," said Watari, leading Miru to the end of a corridor where another door stood. Upon entering, Miru was immediately struck by the scent of polished wood and the gentle hum of the air conditioning. The room was tastefully decorated, creating a cozy and inviting atmosphere despite its relatively small size. In one corner, a grand piano gleamed under the soft glow of the overhead lamp, inviting Miru to sit down and play. A bed and desk could easily fit in the remaining space. On the opposite wall, a desk faced the window, offering a picturesque view of the lush greenery outside. In the corner by the door, a music stand and a few violins awaited, tempting Miru to try her hand at a new instrument. The window provided subtle natural light, casting a gentle glow over everything in the room.

As Miru approached the piano, she ran her fingers over the smooth keys, feeling the exceptional acoustics of the room. Lost in the music, she imagined spending hours in this space, her fingers dancing across the keys.

Watari cleared his throat politely, noticing the shift in Miru's demeanor as she explored the room. “If you wish, you could make this your bedroom," he continued. "I'll make sure to soundproof it for you, so you won't have to worry about disturbing anyone else in the house when you're practicing."

Upon making the offer, Watari noticed a change in Miru's demeanor. Her face brightened up with a smile that lit up the entire room. Her eyes sparkled with joy, and her black hair cascaded around her shoulders, framing her delicate features perfectly. Watari couldn't help but feel a sense of warmth and happiness fill him as he saw her response.

It was a beautiful moment, one that he knew he would never forget.

He named her Meredith.

A week had passed since Watari took Miru in. Although she was mostly quiet and didn't interact much with the other children in Wammy's House, those who sat beside her at the dining table found her to be well-mannered and patient, listening intently to the other children chatting about their day. However, the enchanting tunes and melodies that emanated from the end of the third-floor corridor captivated everyone. Some of the children couldn't help but feel a hint of envy towards the girl for having her own private room instead of sharing a room with bunk beds.

When Watari made the decision to enroll the young girl in classes alongside her peers, he recognized the need to provide her with an alias to safeguard her identity, a practice commonplace amongst the children at Wammy's House. Seated in his office, Watari held his fountain pen in hand, its tip hovering over a blank sheet of paper. To his left, lay the file containing Miru's profile, which he perused with great attention, seeking a suitable pseudonym. Despite his efforts, his eyes kept returning to the girl's given name.

Miru Nanami ( 七海咲来 )

It meant “seven seas” from the Kanji character.

His thoughts fell back to the day he decided to take her in.

Summer, 1989.

It was a surreal moment, as everything around him seemed to slow down - the chaos of children running around, screaming, crying, and huddling in corners with social workers trying to comfort them. Yet, his attention was solely focused on the girl who sat quietly at a small desk, writing away. Despite knowing what she had endured, he couldn't sense any emotions or pain from her. She seemed to exude an air of composure that was almost otherworldly. As he approached her, the only sound he could hear was his own footsteps.

Watari watched in awe as she composed a piece from scratch. She carefully drew each line and note in black cat figures and koi fishes, each bringing the music to life in its own unique way. Some of the cats were depicted playfully running through the music, while the koi fish appeared to be swimming on the sheet of paper. It was then that Watari realized that this composition was meant for a piano duet.

Johnson, the caretaker who contacted Watari chimed in, "She's quite talented, isn't she? We've had several people express interest in fostering her, but I'm not sure anyone could provide the kind of support she needs."

She was unlike any other gifted child Watari had encountered before. While most children with exceptional abilities tended to isolate themselves from others, this girl expressed herself with utmost poise and manners, concealing any trace of her true emotions.

Watari paused for a moment, lost in thought. Finally, he spoke up. "I understand what you mean. Perhaps, I could take her in myself."

Suddenly, an idea struck him - the perfect alias for Miru. The fountain pen slipped from his fingers, forgotten for a moment, as Watari's mind raced with possibilities. And just as suddenly, the ideal name came to him.

With a firm grip on the pen, Watari began to write, his hand moving with fluid grace as he transcribed the name onto the paper. He paused for a moment, re-reading the name and contemplating it.

Yes, it was perfect.

He then invited Miru to his office and offered her a seat in the armchair while he sat on the footstool.

He spoke to her in a gentle tone, "Miru, I want to discuss your name with you. It's a beautiful and unique name, but it's also a part of your true identity that needs to be protected. That's why, here at Wammy's House, we offer our children the opportunity to choose an alias for their safety."

Miru looked at Watari with a hint of confusion and asked politely, "May I know why, sir?"

Watari nodded understandingly and explained, "It might be difficult to understand, but it's important to keep your identity hidden for your safety. That's why we give our children the option to choose an alias."

After a moment of contemplation, Miru responded in a reserved tone. "Okay. What name do you suggest?"

Watari smiled warmly at her. He then pulled out the sheet of paper for her to read. "I have a name in mind that I think suits you very well.”

Meredith

“It means 'guardian of the sea', which is fitting because of your given name, Nanami, which means 'seven seas'."

Miru gazed at the paper, taking a moment to read the name. She looked back up at Watari, her expression thoughtful. "Meredith," she repeated softly, as if trying it on for size. "It's a nice name."

Watari nodded, pleased with her reaction. "I'm glad you like it, Miru. It's important to have a name that you feel comfortable with. And if you ever decide to reclaim your given name in the future, you have that choice. But for now, let's introduce you to the world as Meredith, Meri for short."

Chapter 3: The Boy

Chapter Text

“My client is dead.”

She swung her business bag on the couch with a heavy thud, and collapsed onto the cushions with a deep sigh. L, crouched on the other end of the couch, watched as she flicked through the channels, finally settling on a rerun-news report about the Innocent Movement’s latest press release:

“Okada Yutaro died of sudden heart attack in prison…”the reporter announced.

Footage of the Director of the Innocent Movement appeared, “…the Innocent Movement will not rest until justice is served for all those who have been wrongfully convicted. We strongly condemn Kira for his senseless and cowardly act of taking the life of an innocent man. Our thoughts and condolences go out to the family and loved ones of ….”

L watched the TV with a keen eye while sipping his hot tea, sweetened with maximum sugar, his cold gaze contrasting with the warmth of the drink.

“I was so close to clearing his name with new evidence,” M muttered while rubbing her temples with her eyes closed. “It's ignorant. This Kira – I bet he only read the records of the police and didn't bother to check for wrongful convictions – I just…" She trailed off, clearly disturbed by the news.

"Indeed," L agreed. "Kira has access to the police database, but it only shows information relevant to their investigations, without any updates on the status of convicted criminals. Kira's concept of justice seems to align with that of the police."

“What kind of justice is that?”M retorted.

L then pinched a piece of dried mango from the plate on the side table and held it up to the air, "What's your next step now? Counselor M," asked L, lowering the piece into his mouth.

“I'm still going to clear his name,” M replied firmly, staring at the ceilings.

A smile spread across L's face as M leaned over and wrapped her arms around him, resting her head on his shoulders.

“And you, my dear detective, will bring Kira to justice.”

The sound of the radio filled Watari’s office, broadcasting the latest weather forecast.

"Good afternoon, everyone. As we head into the winter season, we can expect a high chance of snow across the United Kingdom…"

"The mercury could drop to freezing or below in many areas, so it's essential to wrap up warm if you're heading out. The snowfall is also expected to be widespread, with the potential for significant accumulations in some regions."

It was winter, weather reports across the United Kingdom predict a high chance of snow, with the first wave of low temperatures since the start of the season.

As the radio provided updates on the weather conditions, Watari looked up from his work to gaze out the window. The dark and gloomy sky indicated that snow was imminent. He then watched the girl approach him with a glass of water in her hands, which she placed on his desk. Then, she settled into the armchair beside the window, where she could read her book on her lap.

What a thoughtful girl, he thought as he gazed at the glass of water.

Her reserved nature has progressed significantly in the four months since arriving at Wammy's House. The trust she has established with Watari has allowed her to let down her guard, and she is adapting smoothly to the classes arranged for the other children. Although she is not much of a talker, Meredith occasionally poses thought-provoking questions that even the teachers find challenging to answer.

“Did the British consider the American Revolution a civil war since both sides were British subjects?” she raised in a history class discussing causes and effects of the American Revolution.

The teacher blinked in surprise, caught off guard by the unexpected question. "That's an interesting point," he said, "and a matter of perspective, I suppose. On one hand, the British might have viewed it as a rebellion against legitimate authority, while on the other hand, some might have seen it as a struggle for self-determination."

While the other children are fascinated by her, conversations tend to be one-sided, leaving them with little knowledge of Meredith's thoughts and experiences. She spends most of her time in her room, playing the piano or reading in Watari's office, with minimal interactions with the other children except during mealtimes and chance encounters in common areas.

Initially, Watari encouraged her to socialize with the other children, but she preferred to follow him around. She was agile and never got in the way of Watari's work, and Watari saw her innocence and curiosity come to the fore. He took her to the shooting range and watched him practice with soundproof earmuffs, let her sit in his office to read, and even allowed her to accompany him around Wammy's House. She was his little companion, and she felt safe only when she was by Watari’s side.

He stood up from his chair and reached for his coat. Meredith glanced up from her book and set it aside, walking over to him. “Where are you going?" she asks innocently.

"I'm afraid I have to go pick up a new child for Wammy's today, my dear. Unfortunately, you won't be able to come along this time," Watari replied apologetically.

Though disappointed, Meredith nodded understandingly. "Wishing you a safe journey," she said, before picking up her book and following Watari out of the office and returning to her room.

Standing at the door and watched her figure disappear down the hallway, Watari smiles contentedly before turning around and getting into the humming sleek black car that's already waiting for him outside.

"Have you heard about the new guy?"

"Yeah, he took down Ethan, Nicholas, and their crew…"

“Aren’t they older and taller than the new boy? How did he…”

"He said he was justice..."

Whispers and gossip circulated around the Wammy house when Watari brought the new boy in. It had only been an hour since the arrival of the new boy that Watari took in, and he had already caused a disturbance. Children huddled in groups, exchanging news and rumors, their expressions alternating between shock and disbelief as they talked in the corridors.

As Meredith emerged from the library with a thick hardcover book about music history, her attention was drawn to the snowflakes gently drifting outside the windows. However, her appreciation of the wintry scene was quickly interrupted by the commotion in the corridor. She looked around, trying to listen and figure out what exactly happened, but she couldn’t piece together a complete answer. Deciding to get to the bottom of it, she approached a girl whom she recognized from class and asked, "What's going on?"

The girl appeared surprised that Meredith was speaking to her, but quickly responded with enthusiasm. "The new boy got into a fight with Ethan, Nicholas, and their crew. You know how they always haze new members. But they were knocked down.”

The faces of Ethan and Nicholas’s crew flashed in Meredith's mind as she mentally counted them. The gang had a total of five members, all older and taller than her. After a moment of contemplation, Meredith asked, "How did he manage to knock all of them down?"

"I don't know," the girl replied with a shrug. "But witnesses say that despite looking like he hadn't eaten in days, he was surprisingly strong. I have no idea how he managed it."

"He even said ‘They attempted to employ violence on me’ when Watari arrived at the scene. ‘I am justice!’ Such a lunatic. You should be careful around him, Meri." She paused, then added before she walked away, “Others have said that he tends to hoard the toys he likes, so I'm going to make sure I get the toys I want before he does."

Ever since the new boy arrived, Watari had been noticeably absent from his office, leaving Meredith disappointed as she had missed several opportunities to see him there. This day was no different: she found his office locked when she tried to enter. Not one to give up easily, she set out to search the building for him and eventually stumbled upon him in the kitchen, where he was taking a box of chocolate cake out of the fridge.

"Ah, Meri, you're here," greeted Watari warmly as he noticed her standing at the entrance of the kitchen. Meredith couldn't help but smile at his greeting and quickly scampered by his side. She stood on her toes to peek over the counter, trying to catch a glimpse of what he was doing. "Is it someone's birthday?" she asked curiously, noticing the box of chocolate cake in Watari's hands.

"No," chuckled Watari, opening the box, "it's for the new boy. He asked for a strawberry cake, but since strawberries are not in season, I asked the cook to make a chocolate cake instead."

He deftly sliced a piece of the chocolate cake and placed it onto the plate. The cake was a heavenly treat, rich and indulgent with layers of moist, chocolatey sponge and a thick, creamy frosting that melted in the mouth. As if that wasn't enough, Watari took another plate from the cupboard, sliced another generous piece of cake, and placed it on the plate.

"Could you do me a favor and deliver this to the new boy? His room is on the same floor as yours, just on the opposite side of the hallway," he said, gesturing towards the first slice of cake. "I need to grab something from my office. This one is for you, my dear, for helping out. I'll leave it in the fridge for you to have after you return."

Meredith smiled and nodded as Watari handed her the tray with the cake, teapot, teacup, and a delicate sugar bowl. "Be careful," he reminded her as she took the tray carefully. They walked out of the kitchen together and parted ways. Meredith made her way to the stairs and headed towards the floor where her room was located, then proceeded towards the room where Watari arranged for the boy.

Setting the tray down on the floor, she knocked on the door, but heard no reply. She tentatively tried the handle and found that it was unlocked. Slowly pushing the door open with her body, she carefully stepped inside the room, tray in hand.

Meredith had never seen a room like this before.

The cozy, intimate atmosphere of the room was enhanced by the dimmed overhead lights, casting a warm glow that contrasted with the starkness of the large bulky computers and thick cables that cluttered the space, creating a maze that was difficult to navigate. The sound of whirring fans and clicking keyboards filled the air, drowning out any other noise. Meredith noticed an air-conditioning unit in the corner, helping to mitigate the smell of warm plastic and dust, as well as the heat emanating from the machines. In the middle of the chaos, a boy with neck-length black hair was crouched in front of the computer screen. He wore an oversized white shirt and baggy jeans and was completely absorbed in his work, oblivious to Meredith's presence.

She assumed the seiza position and set the tray aside, her eyes scanning the room in awe. Though she had seen computers in her father's home office before, this was her first time witnessing a supercomputer -- the kind she had only read about in books. As she took in the impressive technology before her, a thought occurred to her: “If he has access to a supercomputer, then he must also have access to high-speed internet, which means he can not only access the internet but also perform more specialized tasks that require high-speed internet.”

While the internet was already accessible to many people, it was not yet as widespread as it is today. Meredith couldn't help but feel a sense of wonder at being in the presence of technology that would one day change the way people communicate.

As she was pondering, the boy suddenly spoke up in a monotone voice that lacked any inflection, but with a sharpness that conveyed his suspicion. "Watari, is that you?" He turned to face Meredith, revealing dark shadows under his eyes. He asked in a cold tone, "Who are you?" His piercing gaze fixed on her as he added, "And why are you here?"

She paused for a moment, and introduced herself in a calm, quiet voice. "I’m Meredith. Watari sent me with some cake and tea." She gestured to the tray beside her.

The boy glanced at the tray and then back at Meredith, his expression unreadable. "Just leave it there," he said abruptly, his tone dismissive. “I'll have it later. Now, if you don't mind, please leave my room.”

He watched as she stood up and turned to leave his room, carefully closing the door behind her. Once he heard the latch click shut, he turned his attention back to the computer and resumed his work.

Chapter 4: L

Chapter Text

It was rush hour at 6 in the night, and the lively streets of Kanto were swarmed with a sea of students and businesspeople making their way back home. Some students chattered excitedly, making their way to cram school or entertainment, while others were simply heading home. Meanwhile, businessmen strolled around with their phones glued to their ears, chatting away and looking forward to a satisfying dinner or a drink with colleagues. Bicycles and cars whizzed past pedestrians, and the vibrant energy of the Kanto region showed no signs of fading away.

In the commotion stood a woman, her suit jacket tailored to fit closely, accentuating her slim figure, with her black skirt just above the knee. The suit was made of fine quality of sleek, smooth fabric, giving it a polished and sophisticated look. She wore heels, and her hair was tightened in an elegant bun, exuding confidence and competence.

M couldn't help but feel a sense of surrealism.

She had been in Japan for almost a month, working on the wrongful conviction case of Okada Yutaro that she had been assigned back in England. The Innocent Movement was a global organization committed to exonerating individuals who had been wrongly convicted, using DNA testing, and advocating for reform within the criminal justice system to prevent future injustices.

The case grew increasingly challenging, and the Japanese branch had no choice but to seek additional help from other branches, recommending the addition of another attorney to aid in the investigation. It was then that the British Branch approached M, also known as Saotome Rin (早乙女凜), for her consent to take on the case. With her experience in handling similar cases in England, fluency in Japanese, top scores in law school, and role as the branch's contact person for reaching the FBI, she was the ideal candidate for the job. For M, this was an excellent opportunity to work in Japan, especially since she had heard about L's plans to investigate the new case, which would bring them both to Japan.

Her mind was still reeling from the case she had just wrapped up at work, as she had successfully applied the evidence and complaint of Okada Yutaro to the court, and the relief she felt was palpable. Earlier that day, when they had announced that newly discovered evidence was being gathered to submit to the court for a retrial, Okada's mother had cried bitterly in front of her, stating that Yutaro will never be able to see his name to be cleared. All that M could do was wrap her arms tightly around her and offer words of comfort.

The weight of her thoughts was almost too much for M to bear, so she decided to take a detour on her way back to the apartment she shared with L. As she passed by a crepe and souffle shop, she halted her footsteps, entranced by the intense aroma wafting from within. The scent was delicate and sweet, almost floral in nature. Recently, M didn't feel like having sweets, unlike L, who was borderline obsessed with sugary treats, especially since taking on the Kira case. But as she perused the menu board outside the shop, featuring mouthwatering images of the desserts, she thought it might be a nice gesture to surprise L with a little treat. So, she purchased two servings, one for L and one for Watari.

The sounds of the clerk flipping and sizzling filled the air, and as M waited for the souffles to be prepared, the TV program in the shop suddenly switched from the local news to a broadcast featuring Lind L. Tailor, the self-proclaimed world's top detective who was investigating the Kira case. The other patrons in the shop were also captivated by the sudden change and wondered what was happening.

Previously, she had knowledge of L's plan to use a death row inmate as bait to confirm Kira's existence. Though she had concerns, she recognized it as the only way forward. Among the convicts scheduled for execution in the following week, she selected Lind L. Tailor to give the speech, so as not to burden L with all the responsibility.

Suddenly, the man's face contorted in pain, and he clutched his chest before collapsing motionless on the desk. A group of men rushed to Lind L. Tailor's side and began trying to revive him, but it was clear that the situation was dire.

Standing in stunned silence for a moment, M tried to process what had just happened. Then, the familiar letter “L” appeared on the screen, followed by his voice, deeply altered as always.

“Unbelievable,” the voice reverberated across Kanto, seemingly emanating from every corner of the region, as if it were the very air they breathed, “I had to test this just in case. But I never thought it would actually happen. Kira, it seems you can kill people without having to be there in person. I wouldn’t have believed it if I hadn’t just witnessed it.”

“Listen to me, Kira. If you did indeed kill Lind L. Tailor, the man who you just saw die on television, I should you tell you that he was an inmate whose execution was scheduled for today. That was not me. The police arrested him in absolute secrecy, so you wouldn’t have heard about him on TV or through the internet. It appears that not even you have access to information about these types of criminals.”

M's heart sank as she struggled to believe that a murder had occurred without anyone being present. It seemed impossible, almost supernatural. Yet it had happened, and even though Tailor had committed an unforgivable crime and had been sentenced to death, she still had mixed feelings about the situation, especially she was the one who selected him.

“But I assure you, L is real, I do exist. Now,”

“Try to kill me!” the voice taunted.

“What’s wrong, come on, right now! Come on and kill me!”

The crowd murmured amongst themselves, discussing the image of the letter L displayed on the screen. Suddenly, a man's voice rose above the rest, shouting, "Do it, Kira!" However, M remained confident that Kira was unable to act, as she had deduced that Kira required a name and appearance to remotely commit a murder. She was also aware of L's determination to solve the case, and she sensed that this move was bringing him closer to checkmate.

L confidently addresses Kira, revealing that despite Kira's attempts, he cannot be killed. He then stated that the broadcast is only being aired in the Kanto region of Japan and that he now knows where Kira is located. He goes on to explain that Kira's first victim was a suspect only reported in Japan, and that his crime was by far the least serious of all the criminals that have recently died of heart attacks. From this information, he deduces that Kira is new to killing and that broadcasting in Kanto was a strategic move to locate him. L expresses his interest in how Kira is able to commit the murders without being present but is willing to wait until he catches him to get his answers. The tone of the message is determined and confident, indicating that he is getting closer to catching Kira.

After the screen resumed to normal news, the audience was awed by L's deductive skills and discussed with excitement.

“The battle of the best detective and Kira! Who would win?”

M didn't want to stay any longer, so she grabbed her order and headed quickly to the railway station.

Upon returning, she noticed L lounging in his chair, his microphone set aside, as he stared at the ceiling. While she could sense his excitement at being closer to solving the mystery of Kira, she also noticed the exhaustion etched on his face, and she knew that the timing of her dessert was perfect.

"I saw your broadcast on TV when I bought this for you," she said, placing the souffles on the desk in front of him. L's eyes lit up as he lifted the lid to reveal two perfectly risen souffles. Each souffle was delicately topped with a generous dollop of whipped cream and adorned with slices of ripe bananas, juicy strawberries, and plump blueberries. A single leaf of peppermint sat atop the whipped cream as garnish. She made her way to the other side of the room where Watari was sitting, engrossed in reading the newspaper, with a cup of Earl Grey resting on the side table. M offered the old man his serving, which was another delightful souffle dish with matcha sauce and red bean paste.

As L was about to indulge in his souffle, he noticed that M didn't have her own serving and beckoned her over, offering her a spoonful.

"Here, try some."

M shook her head, her lips curving into a faint smile. The memory of Lind L. Tailor's sudden death still churned her stomach with waves of nausea. But if sharing some of L's burden could ease his stress, she was willing to do it.

"No, you have it. I don't have much of an appetite," she replied.

L's expression turned concerned as he noticed that M hadn't been eating much recently. She had been consuming less food since they arrived in Japan, and L wondered if it was due to the case she was working on or if the death of Okada Yutaro had left her feeling discouraged.

"Maybe some sugar would help you feel better," he suggested, hoping to ease M's bitterness. He spooned the dessert she had rejected into his own mouth. "This is delicious," he exclaimed.

"I'm glad you enjoyed it," M said, wiping away a fleck of whipped cream from the corner of L's mouth before planting a kiss on his cheek. "I think I'll head to bed early tonight.

Since Watari frequently helped the new boy by delivering meals and tea, and spent more time with him, Meredith also started assisting Watari in her spare time. Most of the time when she helped, it was during dessert time. She would meet Watari in the kitchen and assist him in plating the desserts that were prepared for the boy. During one of their conversations, Watari revealed that the new boy's name was L.

"L?" she asked, her voice tinged with suspicion. The scent of warm apple crumble, cinnamon, nutmeg, and cloves mingled in the air, the aroma filling the kitchen with feelings of warmth and comfort. Watari had just taken the dessert out of the oven and was now scooping generous portions into bowls.

"Yes, that's his name," he said, glancing down at the small girl who stood on a stool beside him. "It's quite unique, with L as the initial."

Still pondering over the name, Meredith added a scoop of vanilla ice cream on top of the crumble. She couldn't help but wonder if L was an alias, much like her own.

When they arrived at L’s room, L carefully stepped over the tangle of cables on the floor and reached the door, where Meredith handed him his dessert tray. Without looking up, he muttered his thanks and settled down beside the chess board he and Watari had been playing recently, ready to devour his dessert.

Initially, L had been wary of Meredith joining Watari on his visits. But as time passed and she continued to assist with the desserts, he had grown accustomed to her presence. To him, she was simply Watari's assistant, and as long as she brought him his dessert, he had no complaints.

Watari placed the tray on the floor, carefully arranging the bowls of warm apple crumble in front of each of them. Watari sat cross-legged, Meredith her legs folded beneath her, and L sat with one knee raised. They started a new game of chess, while Meredith sat between them.

The only sounds in the room were the soft clinks of spoons against bowls and the gentle rustling of the chess pieces as they were moved across the board.

Meredith held her dessert bowl, savoring each bite as she watched the game intently. Despite her focus on the game, she couldn't resist stealing glances at her bowl. Earlier in the kitchen, Watari had mentioned that the warm apple crumble was a traditional winter dessert, and this made Meredith reminisce about her own experiences about winters past and the cozy traditions that came with them.

As the chess pieces moved across the board, Meredith spoke up in a soft voice, adding her words to the ambient sounds in the room.

"私は以前、Wammyの前に冬に家でぜんざいを食べたことを覚えています。(I remember eating zenzai in the winter at home before coming to Wammy.)"

Watari replied in fluent Japanese and making the next move,

"ああ、それは素晴らしいですね。ぜんざいは冬の季節にぴったりです。(Ah, that's wonderful. Zenzai is perfect for the winter season.)"

L briefly glanced at both of them, intrigued by Meredith's sudden interjection and Watari's reply, before returning his attention to the chess game. Although he didn't understand the language they were speaking in, he could sense the sentimentality in Meredith's tone. The chess pieces were scattered across the board in a strategic pattern, and it seemed like the game would take some time to conclude.

Suddenly, Watari's phone rang, interrupting the game. "Excuse me for a moment, Meri," he said, gesturing towards his phone. "Would you like to take over while I take this call?" With that, he stepped out of the room, leaving Meredith and L alone to continue their game.

As the sound of Watari's footsteps faded away, the room fell into an eerie silence. Meredith nervously fiddled with her spoon as she stole a quick glance at L, who was intently studying the chessboard. She had never been alone with him before, and the thought made her uneasy.

L glanced over at Meredith, putting his thumb to his lips, unsure if she knew how to play chess. He had never seen her play before, but he didn't want to insult her by assuming she was inexperienced. On the other side of the board, Meredith hesitated for a moment, feeling unsure about playing against L. She had observed Watari and L's games before, but she had never played against L herself.

Finally, she reached to make a move, carefully selecting a piece and placing it on the board. L studied the board for a moment, considering his response.

“What language was that? When you talked to Watari in the middle of the game," he inquired after taking his move, looking directly at Meredith.

Meredith moved the knight, “It was Japanese,” she replied, bemused by L's sudden interest.

"I see," said L. He didn’t want to dig further, as he thought that it might be a personal matter for Meredith, but he couldn't help but wonder about her background and upbringing.

As they played, L found himself increasingly impressed with Meredith's skills. She put up a good fight, almost cornering him into a checkmate situation, but L's strategic moves allowed him to turn the game around and ultimately emerge victorious.

"Checkmate," L announced calmly, moving his final piece into position to end the game. Meredith looked at the board, nodding in acknowledgement of her defeat. "You win," she said, offering L a gracious smile.

L looked at her with newfound respect. "I didn't know you played chess," he said. She smiled modestly as they both gathered the chess pieces and carefully put them back in the box, closing it up.

"I learned to play shogi before, and I've watched Watari and you play many times," she disclosed. "I think the tactical part is similar. I just needed to understand the differences in rules between chess and shogi."

L nodded, impressed. "Interesting," he remarked. "Do you play any other games?" Puzzles had started to become boring, and he was yet to beat Watari at chess.

“I've learned to play Go, but I'm not as good at it as I am at shogi," Meredith acknowledged.

L looked intrigued by her response. "I've always found Go to be a fascinating game, but I've never had the patience to learn how to play it properly," he admitted. “Maybe you can give it a try,” suggested Meredith. “There are Go manuals in the library, and I could check out some chess manuals for myself."

“I will consider checking that out,” said L, contemplating whether to ask about her conversation with Watari during their game. However, before he could ask, she sensed his hesitation and explained, "We were talking about Japanese winter food. I apologize for speaking in Japanese and leaving you out of the conversation. I mentioned apple crumble, which reminded me of Zenzai, a Japanese winter dessert."

Curious, L asked, "What's that?"

Meredith paused, trying to find the terms for describing the dessert, "It's a sweet red bean soup that's thick and combined with mochi, a sticky rice cake…. It's hard to explain."

L nodded and remarked, "You don't have to apologize for speaking Japanese. In fact, I might even try to learn it myself."

She was taken aback by his eagerness to learn new things, even if the language didn't hold as much significance to him as it did to her, being her native language.

They sat there for a moment before L stood up and walked over to his computer screen, where he had a box of chocolate balls. He retrieved one and handed it to Meredith, and offered, "I'll make a deal with you. I'll give you this chocolate ball if you can borrow a Go manual for me from the library."

Meredith accepted the chocolate ball and took a bite. It was extremely sweet, but also tasty.

"Okay," she replied with a smile.

Chapter 5: Zenzai

Chapter Text

Northwest Washington, D.C. FBI Headquarters.

Miles Fitzerald's phone rang, and he quickly recognized the number on the screen.

Answering promptly, he identified himself as "Fitzerald speaking."

The voice on the other end was familiar, yet altered.

"This is Watari," came the reply.

Fitzerald was prepared for the call, but felt a sense of anticipation nonetheless. He knew that Watari acted as L's spokesperson and only contacted him on rare occasions, indicating that L had given instructions.

Maintaining a steady tone, Fitzerald asked, "How may I assist you, Watari?"

"L has requested that the FBI conduct an investigation and surveillance on individuals who are deemed potential Kira targets listed in the file that we have just sent to you," Watari stated. "Kindly refer to the email for further details."

While still on the phone with Watari, Fitzerald noticed a new email notification featuring the Wammy's House Organization coat of arms. He opened the email and saw the attached file, which was encrypted. Fitzerald quickly entered the password provided by Watari and saw the list of targets, along with their locations in Tokyo, Kanagawa, Saitama, and Chiba.

The email contained instructions to deploy a total of 12 agents, with the majority assigned to Tokyo. Due to the sensitive nature of the mission and the need for efficiency, priority was given to current FBI agents in Japan. Additional agents may be dispatched from outside Japan if required.

Fitzerald was instructed that the mission was classified and authorized by L, and he should maintain confidentiality with his agents, who should only be aware that it is an FBI assignment.

"Your objective is to surveil the targets and have your agents report to you. You will be the sole point of contact with me," Watari instructed.

"Understood. I will assign our most capable agents to this task. We will conduct a thorough investigation and provide updates on any findings."

Watari expressed appreciation for Fitzerald's cooperation and added, "We have confidence in your agents' abilities to assist us in this matter."

And with that, the phone call came to an end.

The familiar knock on the door of L’s room signaled the arrival of his regular guest.

“Come in,” he said, turning to greet the person he expected to see.

It was only Watari who walked through the door, and the absence of Meredith did not go unnoticed by L. As Watari greeted and approached, L watched him place the tray of dessert on the floor before asking the question that had been on his mind since the moment he noticed that Meredith was nowhere to be seen.

"Watari, where is Meredith?" he asked.

Although England was still cold, the arrival of spring was imminent. L and Meredith had been playing various games together for some time now, from Shogi to chess to Go. While she excelled in Shogi and L in chess, they enjoyed playing Go together.

On days when they did not feel like playing, L would work on his computer while allowing Meredith to stay in his room, reading books. They often discussed a variety of topics, ranging from science, philosophy, and literature to complex mathematical puzzles and riddles that piqued L's interest.

L had been diligently studying Japanese and was now able to hold normal conversations with Watari and Meredith in the language. They communicated with each other mostly in Japanese, and she even taught him how to write in the language. Soon, he was able to read, speak, write fluently. He found it to be quite useful, especially when they would meet for meals with the other children at Wammy's, as speaking in Japanese allowed them to have private conversations without fear of being overheard.

“Meredith is practicing for her upcoming music competition in her room,” replied Watari, placing a dessert bowl in front of L. He noticed that the usually detached boy had somehow grown accustomed to having Meredith present during dessert time, and he was quite gratified.

L stared at the unfamiliar dish, a reddish-brown liquid with a smooth and creamy white object floating on top. The steam emanating from the bowl was hot, and the sweet, nutty aroma was overwhelming, but impossible to describe.

“What’s this?” asked L in Japanese.

“It’s zenzai, and I also brought you a cup of matcha,” replied Watari, placing the cup beside the dish. The liquid in the mug was a vibrant green, with a smooth, velvety texture, and tiny bubbles on the surface. L could see the delicate whisk marks on the surface of the drink, giving it a frothy appearance. The aroma was fresh and grassy with a hint of sweetness, inviting him to take a sip.

"I thought you might be interested," Watari said with a warm smile. He had noticed L's puzzlement when he overheard him and Meredith reminiscing about a Japanese winter dessert on that day. After observing L starting to learn Japanese, he thought it would be a good idea to prepare zenzai for today's dessert, “Why don’t you call Meredith from her room and join us? It would be a pleasure if she could have zenzai with us.”

L pondered for a moment and eventually got up on his knees.

“I'll go get her.”

L had never been to Meredith's room before, despite it being just a short distance away, on the opposite direction from his own. As he walked towards her room, he instinctively checked the hallway for any potential obstacles or threats. It wasn't that he was afraid of encountering anyone, but he knew he needed to be prepared to defend himself in case anyone tried to harm him - just like on his first day here.

Upon entering Meredith's room, he noticed that the door was slightly ajar and he could hear faint music coming from inside. As he gently pushed the door open, his attention was immediately drawn to the large window dominating the far wall, which let in a flood of natural light, illuminating the room and casting a warm glow on everything within it. A pristine white desk is positioned in front of the window, maximizing the use of natural light and providing a stunning view of the outside world. To the left of the entrance are a closet and a neatly made bed with a grey cotton cover and stacked pillows against the headboard. The right side of the room boasts a tall bookshelf, filled with various sheet music, books, and a violin case, and a cabinet at the bottom. A hand-drawn sheet music, featuring notes in the shape of black cats and koi fish, is framed and hung on the wall opposite the bookshelf.

And in the corner opposite the door is an impressive presence of a grand piano. Sitting at the piano, lost in her music for hours, is Meredith, practicing for her upcoming piano competition with unwavering dedication.

The melody completely absorbed him, entranced by the music like never before. Time seemed to slow down as he stood there, his attention wholly fixated on Meredith's playing. The shadows cast by her figure moved in sync with her movements, with her glossy hair catching the beams of light and giving her an ethereal glow, as if she was sparkling.

It was a dazzling scene to watch.

The music flowed from her fingers like water from a spring, each note clear and pure. It was sonorous and melodious, stirring something deep within him that he couldn't quite explain.

As she finished the piece, Meredith looked up and saw L standing in her doorway. "L, what are you doing here?" she asked, a bit startled. She hadn't expected L to come to her room.

"Umm, Watari prepared some zenzai. Come over and have it with us," he replied, signaling her to follow him.

“Sure,” she said, “I’ll finish practicing this last part and then come to your room. You can have your dessert first.”

L hesitated, and instead of leaving, he walked over to the piano bench. Meredith widened her eyes, surprised but quickly scooted over to make room for him to sit beside her.

As L watched her continue to play, he realized how little he knew about her interests. Despite chatting frequently about science, math, philosophy, and their deductive reasoning skills, he had never truly understood what she enjoyed. It seemed as if she was putting his interests first in every encounter, intentionally placing her own likes and preferences behind his. He continued to watch her play, noticing how fully immersed she was in the music. It was as if her mind and soul had flown to another world, or perhaps another universe. He found it fascinating to witness her in such a state.

The zenzai was sweet and warm, exactly what L enjoyed.

After that day, L developed an interest in Meredith's hobbies and started attending her music performances whenever he had the time. In return, Meredith observed L attending some tennis training sessions. Although L had a slim build and dark circles under his eyes, suggesting he could use some rest, she watched him swing the bat vigorously and with skill. Despite knowing that L had knocked down older boys who tried to haze him on his first day at Wammy's, it was still hard to imagine him having such power and strength.

It appeared that the tennis coach had also underestimated L's potential, likely blinded by his deceptive appearance. In fact, L had defeated the coach in a match, leaving Watari to find another coach for him.

With just a few training sessions under his belt, he surprised the participants and the referees by becoming the dark horse of the England Junior Cup, ultimately winning the championship. Despite having witnessed his training, Meredith and Watari were still amazed by his remarkable progress and skill.

"I knew how to play tennis before coming to Wammy's," he expressed, but he didn't disclose any further details, and Meredith didn't press the matter.

Their friendship grew stronger as they learned more about each other's interests and hobbies, dreams and aspirations, and in doing so, they found a sense of camaraderie and mutual understanding.

Watari found comfort in seeing that L and Meredith had formed a friendship and found companionship in each other. However, he couldn't shake the feeling of concern for their isolation from their peers. Despite this worry, he didn't want to interfere with their relationship. Instead, he allowed their friendship to develop naturally, without any external pressure. For Watari, the small progress they had made was a source of contentment, and he hoped that in time, they would both find their place among the other children at Wammy.

She couldn't help but giggle at his assertion that sitting in any other position than crouched would reduce his reasoning ability by 40%. Sometimes she would ask him to sit normally, and he would comply briefly, but soon return to his preferred crouched position, and they would laugh together.

His several quirks were contrary to what she was taught and most were considered inappropriate or rude in public. But she found it interesting, despite not having the same quirks as L. In private, she would play along with his sugar cube or staple food item rituals and occasionally, for fun, imitate him holding items using only a thumb and a finger. She was aware of L's sensitive pride, but in her company, he seemed more open to listening to and accepting her differing opinions.

Scarlatti's Sonata in A major, K. 208 was Meredith's favorite piano piece. L learned that she consider this piece had the power to soothe her when she was plagued by the sounds in her head. When he asked her about these sounds, she refused to elaborate, dismissing them as mostly nonsensical and incomprehensible.

He had always had a strong fondness for sweets, and they were a key part of how he coped with the bitterness of his past memories. However, L began to notice that when he was with her, he was more open to trying savory foods. It was as if being in her company made him comfortable enough to let go of his addiction to sweets to some extent.

L noticed that she held a rather humble attitude towards everything, as evidenced by her love for the sea and her view of her own abilities. She loves the vastness of the ocean, the sound of the waves crashing against the shore, the sight of the foaming waves, and the impenetrable blue that seems to devour all pain and sadness in the world, or perhaps tolerate people's flaws and mistakes.

“Before the ocean's vast expanse, humanity stands diminutive,” she muses.

Little did he know that her muse was tied to something much deeper, something beyond his comprehension.

Chapter 6: June

Chapter Text

The moon was a glowing pearl in the sky, casting a silver blanket over the city below. The bedroom was bathed in the moon light and illumination coming from a distant streetlamp filtering in through the window. The silence was only interrupted by the occasional sound of passing cars, evidence of people still working the night shift.

He had finished showering and was now ready for bed, but his mind was still preoccupied with something.

It felt as though he was lost in a maze of worries.

Glancing at the person in bed, he watched the rhythm of the sheets moving in sync with her chest rising and falling. As he slid into the cool, smooth sheets, the rustling of the fabric filled the quiet room.

L lay on his back, contemplating whether or not to share his latest concern with the person sleeping next to him. He turned towards her, gently pulling her into his embrace. She stirred awake at his sudden movement, and the scent of the new soap she had bought filled her senses as she gazed up at her partner.

"I might have to meet the Japan task force in person if the FBI agents fail their mission," L whispered in a low voice.

She paused, and her slight nod was felt by L through his chest. The two of them fell into a silence, each lost in their own thoughts.

Since the day M had decided to come to Japan with him, she had been aware that he would take drastic measures to solve this case. If the FBI were to fail their mission, the Japan National Police Agency (NPA) would inevitably discover the mission's failure, potentially exposing the secret operation. This would undoubtedly anger the NPA, who had not been informed of L's instructions to the FBI.

The task force members would also feel the weight of this failure, causing heightened tension and anxiety within the group. They might begin to question their own abilities or the heightened danger of the investigation. It would inevitably led to possible resignations and loss of members. To reassure the remaining task force members of his continued commitment to the case and rebuild trust, L might need to meet with them in person, even though it is something he has never done before.

But this wasn't what L had promised her when he vowed to stay with her two years ago. With his hands holding hers, he had said in a soft, reassuring voice, “Stay with me. I'll work remotely to ensure our safety, and I hope that will allow me to spend more time with you in this life.”

M had always understood that L's time and attention would never belong to her alone. After all, who could stop the detective's dedication to his cases? She had accepted the reality of sharing L with his work, but the thought of him risking his safety by meeting the Japan task force in person was a difficult pill to swallow. She knew that Kira had access to the task force's information, and the possibility of Kira being among them made her even more anxious.

As he looked at her, pondering in silence, he sensed that she must have already figured out the reason for his earlier comment and was worried. He tightened his embrace and took in the scent of her hair, then decided to bring up another topic to ease her concerns.

"I'm thinking of taking the alias 'Ryuzaki' when I meet them."

M lifted her gaze to meet his, but the memories that came flooding back with the name made her heart heavy and offered little solace. As she looked into L's eyes, she could see the pain mirrored in his expression, and she sought comfort in his embrace. Burying her head in his chest, she tried to hide her melancholy mood.

After a moment of silence, she struggled to find the right words, but eventually settled on a single sentence. M whispered it in a voice softer than usual, and L noticed the apprehension in her tone.

"’Ryuzaki’ is a good alias."

It was a beautiful June day, with the sun shining and the air pleasantly warm.

L found himself once again sitting beside Meredith in her room, listening to her play a piece on the piano while sunlight streamed in through the window behind them, illuminating the sheet music and the space around them. Meredith had told him earlier that it was Tchaikovsky's Seasons Op. 37a, specifically the Barcarolle, representing June. As she played, she shared a fact with him.

"Did you know that there are twelve short character pieces for solo piano in Tchaikovsky's The Seasons Op. 37a, and each piece represents a different month of the year in Russia?"

L shook his head and returned to being fully engrossed in her masterful playing. He had learned that this piece was intended to evoke the feeling of a sunny day in June, and he could certainly feel the warmth and serenity that came with it. The opening notes were soft and gentle, like a breeze blowing through the air. As the melody progressed, it felt as though he was walking along a peaceful beach, the gentle waves lapping at his feet.

The main theme was full of charm and romance, with Meredith's right hand playing a captivating melody that seemed to dance above the harmonies of her left hand. As the piece moved forward, the melody became more complex, building to a dramatic climax that left L on the edge of his seat. But just as quickly, the music returned to its tranquil and dreamy main theme, the tension of the middle section melting away into a peaceful calm.

“I like it,” he remarked.

“Everyone likes it. June was enormously popular,” Meredith smiled in response.

A knock on the door interrupted their conversation, and it was Watari who greeted them upon opening it.

“Ah, children! I have been looking for you. I left the dessert tray in L's room, so why don't you go back there and enjoy your dessert? I will go and check on the other children.”

As they returned to L's room, they were pleasantly surprised to find a slice of Japanese-style strawberry shortcake waiting for both of them. This version of the dessert differed from the traditional English version, which typically features a denser cake and a heavier cream topping. The sponge cake was light and fluffy, with layers of whipped cream and fresh sliced strawberries carefully arranged between them. The cake was then topped with more whipped cream and a juicy, ruby-red strawberry on the surface.

Strawberry season was in full swing, and they had been relishing in a variety of strawberry desserts. They had enjoyed the classic English Eton Mess, strawberry tart, ice cream, trifle, and English strawberry shortcake. As they savored their latest dessert, Meredith recalled the first time she met L when Watari had presented him with chocolate cake, but he had specifically asked for a strawberry cake instead.

"They weren't in season in winter," she said, spearing a juicy strawberry with her fork.

"I know, but I still asked for it, hoping against hope," he replied, finishing his own serving and taking a sip of his tea, his fingers pinching the cup's handle.

As they began clearing the plates and utensils, L spoke up, "Let me take care of these and bring them to the kitchen for Watari this time."

He stood up from the floor and made his way back to his computer, and carefully navigating through the cables strewn across the floor. L collected his used cups and candy wrappers, intending to bring them altogether with the plates and utensils that they had just used. As he attempted to return to Meredith, he stepped over the familiar cables, thinking he knew where they all were.

However, he didn't anticipate what happened next.

When he stepped over the last cable closest to Meredith, he tripped and lost his balance. He tried to catch himself, but it was too late. In an attempt to avoid putting his weight on her, his limbs instinctively caged her, and he hovered just above her with a sharp pain shooting through his elbows and knees where he had landed. Despite the discomfort, he was grateful that he hadn't caused any harm to her.

The cups clattered on the floor beside them.

For a few seconds, the room was silent.

They both were stunned, frozen in place. After a moment, L quickly scrambled to his feet and apologized for the mess.

“Sor-Sorry…I didn’t mean it,” he stuttered.

Meredith remained frozen in place, but she tried to come up with terms, “it’s..it’s okay, it’s just an acciden- ”

Before she could finish, a rumbling noise filled her head, accompanied by high-pitched, piercing screeches that caused her heart to pound in her chest and her pulse to throb in her neck.

She thought she saw a figure suddenly overlap L's face when he fell on her.

A face she had tried so hard to resist recalling, but one she could never forget.

As the screeches in her head grew louder, she tried to suppress them by reminding herself that she was safe.

When Watari took her hand and walked out of the court, she squeezed his hands and was determined to start a new life, and never look back. She had managed to fight off the flashback memory for the past nine months at Wammy's, but now they seem to start consuming and drowning her.

Her body began to tremble uncontrollably.

The air felt heavy and humid as if the emotions in the room were thickening the atmosphere, causing her breath to come in short gasps. The trembling soon ceased when a choked-back sob broke the silence in the room - the kind that catches in your throat and refuses to be released.

L doesn't need to be the one to catch me.

Meredith was anxious and fearful of her emotions distressing L, and struggled to reassure him that she was okay. But no words could be voiced, and she was losing her composure.

Nothing had been fixed, and no wounds had been healed.

She had stored every pain she had experienced within her, waiting for an opportunity to break free from her body. And in that moment, it did.

The tears emerged fast, unable her to hold back.

At first in a trickle, then in a torrential downpour that blurred her vision and soaked her face. Each convulsive sob shook her shoulders, and she quickly covered her face with shaking hands, not wanting L to see her expression. She had been taught to keep a calm and collected exterior, to hide what was going on inside. But now, it was impossible for her to hold back.

L was at a loss.

He was familiar with her reserved tone, calm expression, and soft smile, as if she had mastered the art of concealing strong emotions, and was capable of controlling every aspect of her demeanor, every subtle movement of her facial muscles. But he had never witnessed such raw emotion from Meredith before, and he struggled to find the right words or actions to offer her comfort.

Should he go out and seek help from Watari? However, he had no idea where Watari was located in the orphanage, and it could take a considerable amount of time to find him. He couldn't bear to leave Meredith alone in her current state.

As he stood there, feeling helpless, his mind raced, trying to think of what Watari would do. or what he could do to ease her pain. His thoughts turned to the way Watari comforted him. Whenever L felt vulnerable, whether from the nightmares that haunted him or the pain of his past, Watari would hold him tightly without saying a word, simply patting his back gently. His embrace was warm and reassuring, with a scent that was a blend of freshly ironed clothes and his cologne, and had always provided him with temporary relief.

It's the only way L knew to find strength, to empower himself and endure everything that haunted him - the past memories that carved themselves deeply into his soul and body.

L took a deep breath, hoping that his mere presence would be enough to ease Meredith's pain and bring her some semblance of peace. He knelt down beside her, wrapped his arms around her, and held her gently, offering the same sense of security and comfort that he had received from Watari.

He could feel her body shaking against him, and finally her sobs were audible, and turned into cries. She muffled them as she buried her face into his shoulder, her tears soaking into his shirt. Her arms hung limply by her side, as if all her strength was focused solely on crying. The cries then turned into muted screams, as if the pain and sadness were being expelled from the deepest depths of her soul, escaping as tears from her eyes and as screams from her mouth.

L was afraid that her cries might cause her body to break apart, so he held her even tighter, trying to steady her shaking body as if his embrace alone could prevent her from shattering into pieces. Her arms finally found strength and held him in return, as if she had found solace in his embrace.

Gradually, her cries softened and turned back into sobs, and grew quieter until the room fell silent once again. She was exhausted from emptying her emotions and exposing her vulnerability. Her body and arms hung limply in L’s arms as she panted. The only sounds left were the whirring fans from the computer in the room, with L still holding her.

They stayed like that for a while, until L could no longer bear the numbness in his legs. He gently adjusted his posture from kneeling to spreading out his legs, and then realized that she had fallen asleep in his arms. Slowly, he leaned back on the floor, allowing her to rest her head on his chest.

Although tear tracks were still visible on her cheeks from all the crying, she now had a peaceful expression, as though a weight had been lifted from her shoulders. She was finally able to find some relief, and so was L.

L never knew the full extent of what Meredith had been through.

Chapter 7: Seven Seas

Chapter Text

Meredith, or, Miru's ability to maintain composure and politeness, despite her circ*mstances, was uncommon.

"Hope" and the desire for a different life began to take root in Miru's mind when Watari discovered her in her first orphanage.

She noticed his hands extending towards her, and as she looked up, her eyes met the gaze of the stranger. The man, in his mid-fifties, had warm grey eyes that possessed depth, yet unlike her inscrutable nature, they instantly conveyed a sense of trust. They held a spark that seemed to illuminate the darkness that had consumed her for far too long, leaving her uncertain of how to react.

And then, Watari spoke in Japanese, with the gentlest tone she had ever heard in her life.

「お名前は何ですか?」(What is your name?)

「七海咲来です。」(Nanami Miru.)

The language was something she was so familiar with. In her current orphanage, no one could speak Japanese, but it didn't bother her much since she only spoke the language at home. However, encountering someone who could speak it created a sense of closeness within her. She gazed back at the man before her, wondering if he could be the person she could trust. It was something she had never encountered before, and it took time for her to process the sincerity reflected in Watari's gaze.

As Watari attended to the legal affairs of her past and gently held her hand, guiding her out of the court, it felt as if he had reassured her of safety and protection within his grip. With her hands tightly gripping Watari's in return, a deep longing for care and a glimmer of hope emerged, much like a sunbeam piercing through the clouds on a gloomy day.

In that moment, she vowed to herself that she would never look back.

But that alone couldn't disperse the impending storm. Her past loomed like an ominous cloud, saturating the air with an unsettling humidity. What Watari knew about her was merely the tip of the iceberg, with the depths of her experiences remaining hidden beneath the surface, known only to her.

Within the confines of that room, enveloped in the embrace of L's arms, the long-awaited rain finally arrived. The downpour washed away the mask of her reserved nature, revealing the vulnerability that lay beneath. However, like the aftermath of a tempest, the sky wouldn't clear immediately.

Would there ever be a day when the skies would truly clear? Was shedding the mask the key to beginning the healing process? She wasn't certain. Yet, without it, she couldn't bear to confront herself.

Beneath the mask, she glimpsed only cowardice, emptiness, and ruthlessness.

March, 1988. Around one year before Meredith went to Wammy’s House.

Sitting on the seashore, she allowed the sea breeze to gently caress her face and hair, while the waves relentlessly crashed onto the rocky coast, sending specks of spray flying in every direction. The air was chilly, but it did little to bother her. The overcast sky with heavy clouds looming low overhead gave no indication of the time of day, and the screeching sounds of seagulls were heard in the distance, but they seemed to know better than to come close to the demon standing beside her.

As she watched the waves, she could feel the prickling sensation of the rocky shoreline beneath her bare feet. However, the sense of numbness that engulfed her made her oblivious to her surroundings.

Her father stood beside her as Miru kept her gaze fixed on the sea, intentionally avoiding his profile. The silence between them was suffocating and disturbing, like sticky glue on your fingers that irritated and couldn't be wiped away without soap and water. The only sounds that punctuated the stillness were the crashing waves and the gentle whispers of the breeze.

The man seemed lost in his own contemplation, and when he finally broke the silence, his words brought no comfort to her. Instead, they pierced through her, causing her to flinch.

"Miru, you will forgive me for what happened last night, won't you?"

The sound of the waves had turned into a rumbling noise, and the screeching of seagulls seemed to be getting louder and louder, transforming into high-pitched, piercing screeches, drowning out any other thought or feeling. She felt dizzy from the noise in her head, causing her heart to intensify to the point of discomfort that would make one wish their heartbeat would just stop. By intentionally biting her lip, letting her teeth sink into her flesh, causing it to crack and taste the ooze of metallic blood to keep herself grounded with the pain. Determined, she chose to remain silent, hoping that her lack of response would convey her feelings.

He watched her with a hint of guilt on his face but remained silent. The salty sea breeze, with its sticky touch on the skin, and the vast expanse of water, painted in infinite blue, were meant to bring her peace and symbolize her love for the sea. However, her father had tainted this experience by attempting to make amends through this seaside visit. His efforts only backfired, leaving her feeling sick to her stomach. Having this man with her at the seaside felt sacrilegious, a betrayal to the place she cherished so deeply.

The unease between them lingered, and she longed for this uncomfortable moment to end.

But uncomfortable moments with her father never ceased from then on.

Nanami Seto (七海瀨人，七海せと) was a Japanese businessman full of ambition, always striving to make a mark in the world.

"A man,” he indicated, “should have an ambitious heart that encompasses the world."
It was his personal philosophy that he upheld in all aspects of his life.

In his relentless pursuit of his goals, Seto employed not only diligence but also cunning and, at times, a cruel demeanor. Outsmarting and deceiving his business rivals became a normal strategy, but his aim extended beyond mere victory—it was to utterly destroy and dominate his competitors without any trace of retreat. He never prioritized cooperation with weak companies. Instead, if they sought his aid, he would either brush them off or, if deemed necessary, execute unfair merger conditions to eliminate them completely. This ruthless approach earned him a villainous reputation, yet paradoxically, it only heightened his desirability in the industry, leading to a flood of job offers.

However, he was not content with being merely an employee and instead harbored a strong desire for power and control. With this in mind, he established his own business and experienced great success both domestically and internationally, with a particular focus on Japan and England.

Despite his ruthless demeanor in business, Seto Nanami remained respected and admired for his strategic brilliance and unwavering determination. His business mail was inundated with a flood of letters, presents, and personal contacts, as countless individuals sought the opportunity to work under him and learn from his exceptional leadership. He derived great pleasure from the worship of his followers, and the adoration and reverence they showered upon him were like sweet nectar, fueling his hunger for dominance and solidifying his position of influence.

In spite of his impressive accomplishments, Seto remained reserved due to the cultural norms in Japan that emphasize the importance of men having a wife as a symbol of stability. While women were undoubtedly drawn to him wherever he went, seeking to capture his attention and affection, Seto knew that his interests lay elsewhere. The company owners, impressed by his success and status, often extended marriage proposals for their daughters, hoping to align their families with this rising star. However, Seto understood that entering into a marriage solely for the purpose of a union would introduce risks to his business if not managed properly. His primary focus was on expanding his business, and he was determined to prioritize that above all else.

With deliberate intention, Seto Nanami made a strategic decision to marry a glamorous woman whose background had no connection to his industry, ensuring there would be no betrayal or conflicts of interest. Both parties were fully aware that their marriage was transactional in nature, driven by mutual benefits. Seto promised to provide her with the material wealth and extravagant lifestyle she desired, while his wife possessed undeniable beauty and a charming eloquence that incited envy among those who compared her to their own partners. Her exceptional social skills effortlessly attracted numerous offers and opportunities, surpassing even those of Seto's competitors. She became a living testament to his achievements, serving as a symbol of his success and power.

Given the absence of affection in their relationship, it came as no surprise to Seto when he discovered his wife's infidelity after their marriage. It happened on a random night when he noticed her absence from home, and he assumed she was out partying and would return late. True to his expectations, she did return late, accompanied by another man who drove her home. It wasn't unusual for her to be driven home by someone else, and Seto saw nothing out of the ordinary in that. He stood behind the curtains, silently observing her.

Then came the goodbye kiss at the driver's window, followed by her wave of farewell to the man. Seto watched the entire scene with a cold demeanor. He didn't care about what she was doing as long as she continued to fulfill his request of accompanying him to important social events, which he deemed crucial for his own accomplishments. Instead of confronting the situation, he withdrew his hands from the curtains, turned away, and accepted the reality, as long as their respective needs were still being satisfied.

And then, Miru came into the world.

When the servant called to inform Seto, he abruptly hung up without uttering a word, unable to hide his letdown. His fervent desire had been for a son who would continue his legacy, and the arrival of a daughter shattered those aspirations. A seed of doubt began to sprout in his mind, fueled by his wife's infidelity, leading him to question the true parentage of the child.

This disappointment also manifested in Seto's procrastination to name his daughter, which raised eyebrows among his senior associates in the business circle. Oblivious to the underlying reasons behind Seto's delay, one of the seniors inquired curiously, "You haven't decided on a name yet?"

Chuckling softly, Seto responded, "I haven't come up with a suitable name yet."

"If you don't mind, please suggest a name for her," he offered, attempting to please the senior by granting him the power of naming the child, although he himself didn't truly care.

The senior carefully examined the baby that was held in Seto’s wife’s arms, “Such a beautiful girl,” he remarked, "She seems to have inherited her mother's appearance. She will grow up to be as stunning as her."

In that moment, the baby smiled with unparalleled purity, captivating the senior.
"Like the blooming Sakura blossoms in spring in Japan," he mused.
"咲来 (Saku), with a different pronunciation to make it unique. Miru would be a fitting name for this baby girl, with such a sweet and comforting smile. Neh? Miru-chan."

It was so decided, as if it mirrored her life, she never received blessings from her parents.

Seto soon realized that regardless of gender, any child had the potential to symbolize his success. This realization became even more apparent when he saw other partners' sons, who lacked the ability to represent their parents' achievements in their respective fields. He understood that as long as he could shape and mold a child into a reflection of his own accomplishments, that child would serve as a testament to his overall achievements.

Therefore, he arranged numerous lessons for his daughter from a young age, and music lessons were particularly important as he believed that a girl should learn music and cultivate her character to showcase their family's excellent education to the outside world. He requested the tutors to train her play the piano and violin to enhance her elegance and contribute to the image he wanted to project.

Over time, Seto's relentless pursuit of success fueled an insatiable hunger for control. With each achievement, his obsession with perfection grew stronger, leaving no room for tolerance in the face of his wife's infidelity. The absence of genuine affection between them amplified Seto's internal struggle as he longed for a flawless relationship that he could shape and regulate. However, he couldn't prevent his wife from pursuing her desires due to the fear of her divulging confidential business secrets. Resorting to violence was also not an option, as he relied on her flawless appearance for public events. This double bind heightened his inner turmoil, adding complexity to his already volatile emotions.

In his struggle, Seto grappled with conflicting desires—to exert absolute control over his wife and maintain the illusion of a harmonious partnership. This internal battle eroded his sense of self and compelled him to seek alternative ways to vent his frustration and uphold his carefully constructed image, leading him to direct his misplaced anger and controlling tendencies towards his daughter.

The first time it happened, Miru was in a drowsy state, barely registering the faint creak of her bedroom door. Soft light seeped into the room, casting delicate shadows on the walls. Footsteps echoed in the silence, accompanied by the subtle rustling of clothing as the intruder approached. She could sense his presence at the end of her bed.

It was rare for her father to venture into her room.

She did not have a close relationship with either of her parents, as they were both busy, whether immersed in work or partying. Most of the time, it was her nanny who took care of her, but they tended not to stay long, as her parents form new contracts each year with the dispatch work agency, resulting in a constant change in her caretakers. She learned to take care of herself from an early age, perhaps as soon as she could understand adults, way before she developed communication skills. Seeing her father's rare presence, it prompted her to feign sleep and silently observe the unfolding situation.

Then came the distinct sound of his belt being unbuckled, breaking the stillness, followed by the hushed rustle of fabric as he removed his suit pants.

She froze. It was after that day that she began pondering the alternate outcomes that might have transpired had she made a different choice that night. Could it have prevented the tragic result? Or would it have led to her being suffocated, leaving no chance for her to endure the pain? Perhaps that could have been a better ending, to be instantly relieved from the suffering, she thought. However, she soon realized that nothing could change what had already happened, and all these thoughts remained purely hypothetical.

The atmosphere in the room became stifling as his muffled moans and grunts merged with his desperate movements. The intensity of his actions reverberated through the darkness, saturating every corner of the space. Despite their faintness, the sounds filled the room, persistently echoing with a haunting presence.

Stunned and paralyzed by fear, she found herself unable to utter a single word. As time stretched on, it was as if her consciousness detached from her body, and she observed the scene from above, watching her own trembling form and her father's imposing figure. She desperately wished for him to relent and leave her alone, silently pleading for the torment to come to an end.

The situation continued to escalate, his actions growing increasingly reckless. Then came the unwanted touches, his groping hands violating the sanctity of her sheets. And on another occasion, he removed her pajamas, eliciting a deep sense of disgust as he satisfied himself at the foot of her bed.

However, she remained motionless, as if the mechanism had already been set. Once again, she observed herself from above, witnessing her father committing an act that she knew was undoubtedly a crime.

His fixation eventually shifted. Instead of keeping his distance, he now loomed over her, choosing to kneel on top of her. In that moment, she was no longer watching from above; instead, she met his gaze, her eyes wide with fear. The cacophony of rumbling sounds and screeches echoed relentlessly in her mind, serving as a constant reminder of each occurrence. It was too late for her to protest against her abuser, and he knew she wouldn't scream, proceeding without any restraint. He no longer cared about waking her up; he would only stop when his desires were fulfilled.

He never dared to venture further than that, but the possibility loomed, a haunting uncertainty waiting for its inevitable moment.

Miru was well aware of what was happening.

The obscenity she had witnessed in the past, her mother with various lovers, now became a part of her own experience. The first time was surreal, and she couldn't believe her mother would be unfaithful to her father. But as it continued to happen regularly, she grew accustomed to her mother bringing different lovers home to indulge in. She learned to retreat to her own room, escaping into the world of music, drowning out the sounds of laughter and moaning from the room across.

However, when it happened to her, everything changed. The effects were devastating. After each incident, the smell of her father’s desire lingered in her senses, and she would rush to the bathroom in her room, emptying whatever remained inside her—dinner, snacks, fruit—but more often than not, it was just bile and dry heaving.

She learned to keep a calendar in her drawer where she marked the expected date of her father's return. As the day drew near, the fear of the abuse heightened her anxiety, causing her to suffer from nightmares. She didn't want the nightmares to invade her sleep, as they were already a painful reminder of her father's actions. This led to her experiencing insomnia. Despite the lack of sleep, she believed that it was a small price to pay, considering it prevented additional pain and anxiety from plaguing her.

Each time her father returned home, Miru would experience a loss of appetite for a week before and after his departure. The mere thought of what might happen during the night disgusted her, making it difficult for her to swallow a normal portion of food.

She knew deep down that whatever she managed to eat would only be vomited out anyway.

The loss of appetite affected her figure, and she remained slim throughout her childhood. While some may have noticed that she was too thin, it truly pained her to hear others reduce her figure to a single, simple word: "Genetics," especially considering that her parents were also slender.

It wasn't until Miru entered Wammy's House under the care of Watari that her figure started to improve, and she was able to maintain a slightly more normal body weight. However, in the long term, she remained the same figure in her later adulthood.

She was obsessive about her hygiene, to the point of appearing almost manic, as if she hoped to wash away everything her father had touched or done to her. It was one way for her to diminish the impact of her father's presence on her, aside from the influence of his genes and parenting. This resulted in her skin often being red from the scrubbing she did in the shower. Additionally, her skin was always dehydrated, and she had to apply body lotion to prevent itchiness.

To outsiders, she seemed like a girl who simply prioritized cleanliness, as she carried the lingering scent of her moisturizer wherever she went, leaving a subtle fragrance in the air.

In an attempt to escape her father's suffocating behavior, Miru sought solace in the nearby seaside the following day. She would take walks along the shore, observing the waves crashing onto the shore. Removing her shoes, she would feel the rocky coastline beneath her feet and immerse herself in the cold water, reminding herself that she was still alive and capable of feeling.

She couldn't quite recall why she loved the sea, but she could only piece together that one of her nannies would bring her to the seaside and play with the fine sand. She couldn't even remember which nanny it was. However, since their house was located near the seaside, it was not unlikely that multiple nannies had taken her there. These were memories from a time before she could remember anything or form words, perhaps tracing back to when she needed to be held to travel anywhere. The feeling of being held closely, connected with the sea, and only the lingering sensation of those experiences remained.

Standing at the shore, Miru gazed out at the infinite expanse of gray before her. Picking up a pebble, she threw it into the ocean, watching as it disappeared into the water, leaving no trace behind.

I wish I was that pebble. To be embraced by the same infinite grayness.

She longed for the dark waters to wash away her suffering, to find solace in their depths.

However, as she observed the relentless crashing of the waves onto the shore, a realization gradually settled within her. In comparison to the vastness of the ocean, her troubles seemed small and insignificant.

She didn't blame herself for her father's actions, but rather for her perceived inability to protect herself and confront her father.

Why couldn’t I run away? Do something to stop him. Do something to save yourself. Do anything.

But as a five-year-old child, she couldn’t survive without her parents.

Well, it’s not happening every day.

As long as I can keep track of the dates, the days will be ordinary.

Except on the days when…

And whom should she ask for help? What if her parents find out? What if no one takes her seriously if she speaks up about the abuse?

Her parents were exceptional actors, adept at portraying their family as the most perfect one could imagine. With a successful master, a glamorous and charming mistress, and a well-educated and well-behaved child, they only drew envy from others when compared to their own partners and children. No reasonable person would question the harmony of the family.

But Miru knew well that her parents were lying monsters, and she considered herself to be no exception.

With that thought, Miru turned and walked away from the endless blue. But this was never the last time she returned to the seaside to find solace.

She returned again, and again, and again.

But no one noticed, and those who knew did not care.

Despite the turmoil she experienced, Miru managed to maintain the outward appearance of a normal, well-behaved child. Her clothes were clean and elegant, and she neatly arranged her own hair. Harsh words never escaped her lips, instead, she spoke with politeness, displayed mature manners and thoughtful behavior, often considered admirable for someone her age. There were no tantrums or complaint seen from her. To others, she appeared polite and well-mannered, completely unaware of the internal struggles she endured. This facade of normalcy was primarily a result of her father's belief that refined behavior reflected successful parenting.

Seto, who was an expert at concealing his intentions. His strategic approach involved creating an environment where others felt comfortable sharing while he remained guarded, and he took great care to ensure that Miru's tutors instilled these values in her. Miru adopted a similar mindset, keeping her true thoughts hidden and preventing herself from fully trusting others. She became skilled at allowing others to express themselves while revealing only surface-level information about herself. This defense mechanism served to protect her from potential harm and maintain a sense of control over her vulnerability.

With her parents frequently consumed by work or social engagements, Miru found herself spending the majority of her time with tutors who managed her packed schedule of lessons. Whether they were instructing her on manners, music, or academic subjects, these tutors would regularly provide progress reports and commend her achievements to her parents. Seto would wear a satisfied grin upon hearing these reports, deriving pleasure from his daughter's accomplishments. Meanwhile, her mother would take a drag of her cigarette and avert her gaze, seemingly disinterested.

However, for Miru, these praises held no significance and did not indicate any genuine kindness from the tutors. They were well aware of the family dynamics but chose not to acknowledge the parental neglect, considering it beyond their responsibility to address such matters.

The tutors were accomplices to her parents' actions.

Miru remained cautious, refraining from placing complete trust in them, and avoiding relying too heavily on the tutors for emotional support.

Mixed emotions were felt towards the lessons. She resented her abusive father for arranging these lessons; however, she hoped to gain her mother's attention and praise through her academic achievements, as her refined behavior and elegant appearance were not enough to capture her mother's interest. She was determined to excel in her studies.

But most of the time, her efforts were in vain. No matter how determined she was, her parents never truly saw her as an individual. This feeling intensified when she observed the neighboring children happily engaging with their affectionate parents. A potent mixture of envy and skepticism tugged at Miru's heart, leaving her to wonder if their seemingly perfect family dynamics concealed hidden flaws, much like her own.

"I play the violin, too, and my mommy thinks I play very well, and she's always so proud," the neighbor's child happily shared with Miru, unaware of the mixed emotions it stirred within her.

They were in the nearby park, with other children roaming beside them. Miru had just mentioned that she took music lessons, but she kept most of her progress to herself and chose to listen to what the girl wanted to say.

"Really?"

"Yes! My mommy always asks me to play for her. She says I'm AMAZING!" The girl's face beamed with pride at her musical skill and the praise she received from her mother, heightening her tone with the term "amazing."

It clearly annoyed Miru.

She maintained her smile towards the girl but soon averted her gaze, momentarily clouded with envy.

Amazing, huh?

The girl's less-than-stellar violin playing was often seen as a nuisance in the neighborhood. Miru had witnessed her mother calling the police to complain about the neighbor's child playing the violin. In contrast, Miru's own playing had always brought astonishment to her father's business partners whenever he brought them home to discuss business matters or have a drink. Her progress had already reached a distinction in her ABRSM Grade 8 exam.

There were times when she tried to please her mother with her music, showcasing everything she had learned in her lessons. But most of the time, her mother ignored her efforts or responded perfunctorily, preoccupied with her own tasks.

While she maintained a calm exterior, Miru's fingers unconsciously tightened around the edge of her dress, causing her knuckles to turn white. Her eyes momentarily flickered with hidden longing, an intense desire for her own mother to notice her musical progress and achievements, or perhaps, anything related to her at all.

All she wanted was to be seen.

Miru loosened her grip and replied, “That's nice."

Upon hearing the girl's experience, a glimmer of hope surged within Miru.

Perhaps Mother would be pleased by my playing this time.

With that in mind, she mustered the courage before dinnertime to retrieve her violin from its case. She handled the instrument with delicate care, tuning each string with precision and ensuring her bow had enough rosin. Once everything was prepared, she took a deep breath and made her way to her mother's bedroom.

"Mother, I've been practicing this new violin piece, and I thought you might like to hear it," she said softly, clutching her instrument in her hands.

Dressed in a stunning black gown that exposed her shoulders and featured a high slit, Miru's mother emanated an aura of confidence and allure. The attire highlighted her exquisitely rounded bosom, capturing attention with its innate elegance. With her hair left flowing freely, her long and glossy black locks cascaded down her back, gleaming under the room's gentle illumination. As her fair-toned, sleek legs gracefully extended from beneath the dress, their sculpted contours appeared almost ethereal, resembling a masterpiece.

She meticulously sorted through her opulent purse, completely engrossed in the task at hand. Her eyes, resembling Miru's, possessed a captivating expressiveness accentuated by skillfully applied mascara. With every fluttering blink, the mascara intensified the allure of her gaze, leaving an unforgettable impression on anyone fortunate enough to meet her eyes. Crystal-embellished multi-drop earrings adorned her ears, adding a touch of elegance to her every gesture as she continued her organization, gathering her belongings, and stuffing them into her crocodile-skin Birkin, completely ignoring her daughter’s presence.

"Mother—" she tried again, her voice filled with hope.

"Can't you see I'm busy?" Her mother snapped, hastily pulling out a bold red lipstick from her bag and applying it with hurried strokes. There was a stark contrast between her elegant appearance and the way she spoke to her daughter.

"I'm already running late for my party. Seriously! And now you're just standing in my way."

Miru stood still, her eyes locked on the woman standing in front of her. It was her mother, who noticed her daughter's unwavering posture and paused her actions while applying lipstick.

A sly smile curled at the corners of her mother's lips.

After a final glance at herself in the mirror, she carefully placed the lipstick on the makeup desk and stood up from her seat.

She leaned down, positioning herself at the same eye level as the little girl, a smile gracing her lips as her eyes locked onto Miru's. It seemed as though she was preparing to offer words of tenderness and care.

But to Miru's dismay, what came out of her mother's lips was pure venom.

“I. Don't. Care. About what you do, what you say, what you want," she uttered. The intimidating tone in her voice echoed like a hissing snake. The beauty of her appearance, tainted by false warmth, cast a piercing gaze that seemed to penetrate Miru's very soul.

"I never wanted a baby. If it weren't for the life I desired, I wouldn't have married Seto Nanami. I never liked him. Having sex with him felt like rape to me. And you, you're the result of that violation," she coldly smirked, showing no remorse for her cruel words.

"The moment you emerged from between my legs, I knew it—nothing but a burden, stretching me physically and emotionally. So, if you please, stay away from my sight."

Her mother swiftly rose, grabbed her bag, and made her way towards the waiting limousine outside. The luxurious vehicle was driven by one of her many lovers, and without a second glance or a word, they drove off, leaving Miru standing alone in her mother’s opulent room.

Although she had anticipated her mother's unwillingness to sit down and listen to her performance, her mother's words still felt like a lump in her throat, rendering her unable to swallow anything.

That day, she chose to skip dinner, retreating to her dimly lit bedroom. Overwhelmed by her father's relentless pursuit of success, the lessons he arranged, the abuse he directed towards her, and deeply disappointed by her mother's neglect, she felt a wave of repulsion washing over her.

Her eyes stung with unshed tears, but she refused to let them fall at her mother's hurtful words. She had come to expect that her mother would never say anything kind or supportive. Seeking solace, she went to the bathroom and splashed water on her face, hoping to cleanse away the sting in her eyes, or rather, the frustration caused by her mother's verbal abuse.

As she gazed at her reflection in the mirror with water dripping from her chin, she couldn't deny the striking resemblance she bore to her mother. Her long, glossy hair framed expressive eyes, a slender nose with a defined bridge, full and slightly rounded lips adorned with a natural pink hue, and a distinct cupid's bow—all features inherited from her mother.

She wore a simple mauve-colored dress, slightly understated compared to the other children's attire but exuding a sophisticated style. It was a dress she genuinely liked, but she couldn't ignore the fact that her father's taste and the manner lessons he arranged for her had influenced her style in fashion and design.

Beyond her physical attributes, her intelligence and sharpness set her apart from children her age. Her father's unwavering diligence in his field and relentless pursuit of his goals, along with her mother's effortless and flawless conversation skills, all reflected their adept utilization of their intelligence. Miru undoubtedly inherited her remarkable intellect from both parents, shaping her into the perceptive and intellectually agile individual she had become.

She attempted a smile in the mirror, a smile that appeared genuinely perfect and capable of concealing her true thoughts. When she chose not to smile, her demeanor returned to one of reserved composure. She knew that this composed exterior left a lasting impression on those who met her.

Every aspect of herself seemed to carry shadows of her parents' influence. From her outward appearance to her intelligence, she was crafted to be seen as well-educated, the product of successful parenting by her father and mother.

What she presented to the world was precisely what Seto wanted others to believe.

The reality is far more complex than that, and it certainly hurts.

Chapter 8: Shinigami

Chapter Text

“L, do you know…Shinigamis…love apples?”

M examined the photos handed over by L in puzzlement, reading the messages written by prison inmates. The Japanese task force had recently informed L about reports of criminals exhibiting strange behaviors before dying from sudden heart attacks, and they had provided the photos for reference.

She sat at her desk, her gaze hidden behind round metal-frame glasses she rarely wore, except when she anticipated working overnight. Piles of case files surrounded her, creating walls that imprisoned her in a fortress of paper.

Despite M’s exhaustion, she resisted the urge to drink coffee, aware that sleep deprivation could make her actions clumsy and result in accidental spills on the precious files. The room still carried the lingering aroma of coffee, a testament to L's relentless consumption of the beverage.

The Okada Yutaro case was on the verge of going to trial, and M was in the process of preparing the team for the courtroom. Despite not possessing a Japanese attorney license, which meant she couldn't actively participate in the trial and could only observe from the auditorium, she held the role of lead attorney for the Okada Yutaro case team, and had taken charge of instructing and revising most of the retrial complaint.

L knew she was occupied with legal preparations. He didn't intend to interrupt her work, but Kira's message made him feel mocked, and he needed someone to talk to.

M, noticing L's decision to share evidence related to the Kira case rather than just news, found it unusual. She decided to take a break from her workload and examine the photos.

"You've realized?" L wore a wry smile.

M handed the photos back to L, her expression filled with disdain.
"A message from Kira, able to control a person before sending them to their death? Kira truly is childish."

With such a complicated case, it was not unforeseeable for L to feel frustrated and want to talk with her. She felt distressed for L's situation, but she knew well that he could handle it, and it was best for her not to intervene initially, especially considering the wrongful conviction cases she also had on her plate.

Shinigami. Do they truly exist?

M wasn't sure. The Kira case was becoming increasingly bizarre. She found herself considering the idea that anything was possible, whether through human or supernatural means.

But, maybe they do exist. Maybe, on that day...
M swiftly dismissed that possibility, deeming it too irrational and not something she could entertain.
Perhaps the message mentioning the Death God was more of a metaphor, she reasoned, but then why leave behind this message?

"We know he needs a name and a face to kill. And to some extent, he can control the victims' time of death and their actions before dying," L said, walking over to the nearby sofa and hopped on, resuming to his crouched position.

Her gaze followed L’s movement. "Well, the previous killings have only resulted in sudden heart attacks, so perhaps these actions were all Kira experimenting with his abilities, rather than directly causing the deaths of criminals."

"Yes, that's correct. The question I'm contemplating is why he chose to experiment with his powers on criminals." L picked up his cup of black tea left by Watari on the divan and took a sip.

M removed her glasses and massaged her eyebrows, pondering for a few seconds before replying, "If he truly is capable of this, then I would say he is trying to distract you with deaths other than heart attacks, making you suspicious of every death that occurs in the world."

Continuing their conversation uninterrupted, he reached for the sugar jar on the tray and dropped another cube into his tea, "That is a possibility, but considering Kira's childish nature, he would want to make his presence known by continuing to kill people with sudden heart attacks. It's like maintaining a brand name. That's how he announces himself to the world. If Kira started getting creative with different methods and various times of death, he wouldn't be identified."

M followed L’s words, "Which suggests that his experiments serve a purpose, not as part of a grand plan, but as a temporary measure for something he intends to do in the near future -"

She paused abruptly.

There was a sensation of warm liquid slowly flowing at the back of her throat, caught her off guard. It was a completely new feeling, one she couldn't ignore. She furrowed her eyebrows, desperately trying to discern the nature of this sensation that seemed to have a life of its own.

Was it a sign of fatigue? But she had only just begun her work...

Meanwhile, L took a sip of his tea, his focus momentarily diverted. As the liquid touched his tongue, he concluded it was not sweet enough, and reached for another sugar cube. Just as he was about to stir the mixture with a spoon, he noticed her momentarily pause.

He looked up, and the sight startled him. His grip faltered, and the spoon slipped from his fingers, plunging into the tea with a faint cling.

"M, your nose is bleeding."

Miru stood amidst a sea of towering adults, their legs extending endlessly in suits and dazzling luxury dresses, forming a wall before her. The expansive ballroom, with high ceilings and ornate chandeliers, cast a warm glow. Conversations filled the air as guests mingled, while well-trained waiters effortlessly served trays of delectable desserts and champagne.

It was no surprise that there were no children her age present, as this event was typically unsuitable for them. However, she found herself reluctantly positioned as the piano accompanist for the dance, a role she had been pressured into by her father, Seto Nanami, who had suggested her exceptional musical talent to the host. Although she received praise and awe from the audience, the scene still exerted considerable pressure on such a young girl.

Seeking comfort, Miru yearned to reach for her mother's hand, yet hesitated, ultimately choosing to tightly grasp her dress, determined not to be swept away in the overwhelming sea. But her mother swiftly brushed off Miru’s hand without even a glance. Miru looked up, expecting an angry glare, but her mother never even spared her a glimpse.

With a glass of champagne in hand, she gracefully navigated through the bustling crowd, and approached a man who appeared to be Seto Nanami's potential client for the next opportunity.

They were too far away for Miru to hear the conversation, and the chatter of others drowned out any details, causing her a headache. All she could see was her mother's effortless and refined charm, drawing lingering gazes from other men who discreetly received pinches from their wives in concealed places, sending silent warnings.

She then scanned the room, searching for her father's presence. Seto Nanami stood at a distance, wearing a grin on his face as he observed his wife, his eyes distant yet filled with a peculiar admiration for her social prowess, before he was approached by another guest for a conversation.

His grin seemed genuine, and in that brief moment, Miru allowed herself to believe that there must have been some affection between her parents, the kind that brought her into existence, though it existed in such a subtle way that she couldn't fully comprehend.

She knew it was all speculative, but in that moment, she refused to remind herself of that fact.

It was a lesson about Japanese music history, and Miru was introduced to the classical rakugo story "Shinigami".

Rakugo is a traditional form of Japanese verbal entertainment that takes place in yose theatres. The performer, known as a rakugo artist, sits on a raised platform and captivates the audience with their storytelling skills. With just a paper fan and a small cloth as props, the artist skillfully narrates long and intricate comical (or occasionally sentimental) stories, all while remaining seated in the seiza position. Remarkably, the artist portrays multiple characters in the story using subtle changes in pitch, tone, and a slight turn of the head. These subtle nuances bring the characters to life and engage the audience in the dialogue unfolding before them.

“We’ll start from the footage first.” The tutor said, and the two shifted their focus to the screen before them.

Once there lived a lazy man who had dedicated his life to gambling. His wife despised him, expressing her disdain with harsh words, "I have never seen such a useless person like you. If you don't want to earn money, then I would rather you be dead." Eventually, she kicked him out of the house, demanding that he find a way to make money. In his despair, the man contemplated ending his life or devising a scheme to make quick money.

It was during this moment of desperation that a Shinigami appeared before him. "Your lifespan is not over yet. What if I teach you a method to make quick money?" The man was skeptical but decided to listen to what the Shinigami had to offer.

"How about becoming a doctor?" the Shinigami proposed.

"That's easier said than done," replied the man.

"Imagine this: If you see a Shinigami like me standing next to a patient at the end of their bed, chant a specific spell and clap your hands twice. The Shinigami will then walk away, and the patient will be saved. However, if the Shinigami is standing beside the patient's pillow, it means their time has come, and you should not chant the spell."

"What is the spell?" the man inquired.

"The spell is 'Ajarakamokuren, techeretsu par,' and then clap your hands twice."

"Like this?" The man attempted to chant the spell and clapped his hands twice. Before he could comprehend what had occurred, the Shinigami had vanished.

Following this encounter, the man began accepting requests from families to cure their ailing loved ones. Every time he saw a Shinigami at the end of a patient's bed, he would chant "Ajarakamokuren, techeretsu par" and clap his hands, causing the Shinigami to disappear, leaving the patient completely healed.

News of his miraculous abilities spread, and he soon amassed a fortune. He indulged in luxury, but eventually squandered all his money. Moreover, there were no more patients left in town for him to cure. Just when he thought his luck had run out, someone from a neighboring town begged him to save their wealthy master's life. As the man entered the wealthy man's house, he noticed the Shinigami standing beside the dying man's pillow.

Regrettably, the man signaled that he couldn't save their master. The servant pleaded desperately and offered a substantial amount of gold. In response, the man devised a plan and instructed the servant to find four men to rotate the bed. When midnight arrived, the man observed the drowsy Shinigami and commanded the four men to turn the bed. Seizing the opportunity, he quickly chanted the spell, "Ajarakamokuren, techeretsu par!" and clapped his hands twice. Startled, the Shinigami woke up and vanished.

The man felt proud of his cunning and accepted the gold before returning home. On his way back, the same Shinigami who had first approached him and offered the spell reappeared.

"You did something clever, didn't you?" the Shinigami jeered, intimidating the man. Suddenly, a hole appeared beneath their feet, and the man tumbled into it.

When he regained consciousness, he found himself in a cave illuminated by numerous candles. Each candle represented a person's lifespan. To his horror, he discovered that his candle, which had once burned brightly, was now nearly extinguished, while the wealthy man's candle burned vigorously. The Shinigami explained, "Because you broke the rules, the two candles have exchanged places."

Filled with panic, the man pleaded for his life, offering all his money to the Shinigami. With a sinister smile, the Shinigami presented him with a candle and said, "If you can use the remaining flames to ignite this candle, perhaps your lifespan can be extended."

Trembling, the man accepted the candle, desperately reaching for the almost extinguished flame, while the Shinigami stood by, gloating, "Hurry, the candle is about to go out!" "It's about to be extinguished!"

Frustrated, the man shouted, "Shut up!" and continued to try. But to his dismay, in an instant, the candle went out, and the man collapsed to the ground, never to awaken again.

Miru was immediately captivated and became obsessed with it.

Despite the Shinigami not typically being considered a benevolent being, it was not entirely malevolent either. She wondered if there truly existed a Shinigami and if her own candle of life still burned with a lengthy flame.

Perhaps, she thought, the Shinigami had the power to grant her a different life, just as the Shinigami had granted the man a different life (though quite brief), though the man had paid the price due to his greed.

If Shinigami exists, I am willing to pay the price to be relieved from everything that's happening.

As if some force had heard her wish, an opportunity presented itself.

On a typical day, with her parents absent as usual, Miru sought a respite from the strains of violin practice. Longing for a change of focus and to soothe her tired fingers, she decided to indulge in some reading time at the library. Lately, her mind had been captivated by Tagore's "Stray Birds."

Tagore's prose flowed like a serene river, carrying profound thoughts and insightful observations. The poet's keen observations and profound insights into the complexities of life and human relationships filled her with a sense of awe and wonder.

"What you are you do not see, what you see is your shadow," she read aloud in a calm tone, savoring the words and allowing their meaning to envelop her. Lost within the ethereal realm of literature, she became so engrossed in the profound message that she failed to notice her bookmark resting precariously at the edge of the desk. Unbeknownst to her, as her elbows brushed against it, the bookmark took a gentle tumble, finally finding a soft landing upon the polished wooden floor.

As she leaned down to retrieve her bookmark, her locks of hair gently brushed against the cool surface of the floor, shifting her perspective closer to the ground. It was in that moment that her eyes fell upon an old socket nestled between the bookshelves, visible only from a child's point of view.

Their house was an old one, and perhaps, except for this socket, all the other sockets had been replaced with new ones long ago, leaving this one forgotten. Miru swiftly rose from her chair, compelled to explore further. Books scattered across the floor as she emptied the shelves, determined to gain access to the socket.

Lying on the ground, inspecting the socket's condition, she noticed signs of oxidation on its chipped exterior. The worn and weathered appearance, tinged with a yellowish, almost dusty hue, spoke volumes of its age. Traces of small scratches and scuff marks adorned the surface, bearing witness to the countless plugs and unplugs it had endured over time.

Common sense dictated her that electricity was powerful and dangerous, and a socket in such a condition would be a potential threat. Yet, the presence of the old socket seemed strangely reasonable in the context of their house. She made the decision to leave it be, at least for now.

For the following days, her mind was continually drawn to the old socket.

The situation felt incredibly peculiar, almost as if a Shinigami had purposefully left that old socket there, concealed, patiently waiting for her to stumble upon it. It seemed as though it carried a hidden agenda, cunningly offering assistance and silently suggesting the possibility of striking a deal.

Miru shuddered at the thought of encountering Death itself.

It’s impossible. They only existed in folklore.

However, it still didn't explain the uncanny coincidence of the old socket appearing right after she had learned the rakugo story "Shinigami" and briefly entertained the idea of striking a deal with this supernatural force.

The existence of that socket intrigued her and sparked a desire to gain a deeper understanding. She delved into the world of electrical engineering, immersing herself in books and resources. Being a clever and talented girl, she grasped the concepts quickly, although she recognized the need to start from the basics.

Miru's studies focused on the potential risks associated with old sockets, including the dangers of short circuits, sparks, and electrical fires. As she delved deeper into her research, she discovered that the specific socket she had encountered might not have been designed to withstand a current of 15A. Furthermore, she learned that the wires connected to the socket were too thin, raising concerns of overheating and the subsequent risk of fire.

The more she delved into learning, the more she felt uneasy, yet at the same time elated, as if every new piece of knowledge brought her closer to liberation. She learned to check the power consumption of household appliances and knew how to overload the socket.

She wasn’t sure whether she even wanted to do anything with it.

Her mind remained fixated on the electrical socket when her father entered her room once again. As was her usual response, she chose to avert her gaze and retreat into her own thoughts.

Her eyes wandered to the bedroom door, triggering a recollection of a recent dream.In the murky depths of her subconscious, the haunting scene replayed itself with unsettling familiarity. Her father, a menacing presence, loomed over her vulnerable form, transforming into an otherworldly figure that engulfed the room, plunging the dream into an abyss as suffocating as the depths of the sea. In the dream, the door burst open, radiating light that penetrate the darkness. Her mother stood at the door, unleashing a piercing scream.

What a nice dream. If only she could scream for me. It didn’t matter if she screamed because of seeing him looming on me, or by sheer disgust towards me.

None of it mattered.

But her thoughts were abruptly interrupted by her father's voice.

"Look at me," he commanded, his words laced with a sickening mixture of satisfaction and malice.

This time, she glanced at him, her eyes blazing with anger.

The room, as always, was permeated with the acrid smell of his presence, a scent that seemed to cling to every surface, suffocating her very being. It still made her stomach churn, the urge to retch overwhelming.

"You look exactly like that bitch. Every single damn thing about you."

Is it because I resemble the person you couldn't control? Is that why you unleash your impotent rage on me?

That's it.

A web of dark threads entangled and spread within her, refusing to unravel. It tightened its grip until something inside her snapped. The growing darkness wove a daunting plan, entangled with the presence of the old socket. It seemed insurmountable, as if reliant on a divine force beyond her control.

She returned to the seaside the next day, pondering about the plan.
No. This was not a plan that any God could grant her to succeed.

If there truly existed a God with almighty powers, she questioned, then why was she condemned to endure an existence filled with relentless suffering, abuse, hatred, and humiliation? These burning questions, entwined with the black threads woven into a long satin-like fabric, began to enshroud her completely, turning her into a figure consumed by an all-encompassing darkness, like a mere shadow.

The waves crashed upon the shoreline, their relentless sounds echoing in the air. However, this time, even the powerful force of the waves back and forth could not wash away her emotions, or weaken her unwavering determination. If anything, the rhythmic surge of the waves only served to enhance her persistence further.

And her mind reminded her the the rakugo story.

If there is a Shinigami, please hear my plea and show mercy upon me. Please do not obstruct my plans, but aid me in accomplishing them. Take whatever what’s left of me, or anything you wish, but grant me relief from this suffering.

With the vow in her mind, and one last glance of the infinite blue, she turned away and headed home.

In her pursuit of a plan, Miru engaged in a series of experiments.

First, she investigated the power consumptions of the household furniture, and analyzed the compatibility, seeking the perfect combination that would bring her plan to fruition.

So, the dehumidifier in the library and the portable air conditioner in my room were the possible combination, and they are reasonable to appear in a library.

Capable for fulfilling her plan.

The second step was to select an old extension cord. Miru diligently searched for the oldest extension cord she could find, even venturing to nearby dump sites on her own, miraculously without arousing any adult curiosity. She managed to locate some cords and began a trial-and-error process. Connecting and monitoring different devices, she observed how the cords heated up under the strain, swiftly unplugging them when the desired threshold was reached. Eventually, she identified the perfect combination that would trigger the intended outcome.

With everything in place, it was only a matter of deciding when to proceed.

Miru chose the same date that her father had entered her room for the first time one year ago.

On this day, both her father and mother were at home, a calm summer day with both adults returning after their respective routines—a day of work for her father and an evening of socializing for her mother. She anticipated they would be tired, carefully paying attention to their recent conversations and schedules.

Even though she had conducted so many experiments, she wasn’t sure whether it would succeed or not tonight. If not, then she would keep on trying.

She ate dinner in silence. The adults did not chat either, perhaps too exhausted from their current activities.

She watched the clock on the wall, with the secondhand ticking.

The cook and the housekeeper would finish their shift around 9.

She wanted to make sure she targeted specific people without involving others.

Miru kept waiting, pretending everything was normal.

And when her father and mother returned to their rooms – they have long slept in separate rooms – she quietly slide into the library and arranged the extension cord and the furniture.

And then she returned to her bedroom. She did have an escape plan, but she also was prepared to resign herself to fate. As she stayed awake, waiting for the end to come close, she noticed the light went on yet again.

They should be asleep by now. Why…?

However, the lights stubbornly remained on, arousing her curiosity and compelling her to venture out of her room, in fear of her plan exposed.

To her astonishment, she discovered her mother seated at the dining table, surrounded by a haze of smoke and lost in contemplation. A glass of whisky sat before her. With her makeup removed, her flawless skin radiated in the dim light, and without the layers of eyeshadow and lipstick, her eyes held a softer, more innocent gaze.

When she caught sight of Miru standing at the door, she abruptly extinguished her cigarette.

Miru stood frozen, a whirlwind of disbelief and uncertainty whirling through her thoughts.
Did she extinguish her cigarette because of me? But she never cares…

"What are you doing here instead of being in bed?" Her mother's piercing gaze demanded an explanation, filled with a mixture of anger.

"I noticed the lights hadn't turned off yet," Miru stammered, feeling a lingering sense of unease hanging in the air.

Her mother's response was curt, "Well, I'm going to bed now." With a swift motion, she gulped down the remaining liquor in one go, leaving the glass on the table, retreating to her bedroom.

Miru watched as her mother turned off the living room light, and then her mother's bedroom lights went out. She then silently returned to her own bedroom.

The image of her mother extinguishing the cigarette in that particular moment kept stirring a whirlpool of complex emotions within her.

Was it an act of protecting her from inhaling the toxic smoke? Or perhaps it was an expression of the maternal love she had yearned for all along?

The answer eluded her, lingering in the depths of the night as she struggled to find sleep. Her mind continued to wrestle with her mother's enigmatic action, desperate for clarity and understanding.

Should I cease my plan, perhaps disconnect the cord?

But before she could grasp any answers, the fire spread faster than she had anticipated.

The library was adjacent to her parents' room, and the flames quickly spread due to the flammable books. Despite the chaos, she remained silent, observing the fire devour the library then her father's room, and finally her mother's. When she was sure that the flames took over their rooms, leaving them no possibility to escape, she dashed out of her own room. The thick smoke rose, making it difficult to breathe, and she crawled towards the exit in an attempt to escape. She thought that even if she couldn't make it to the entrance, it wouldn't matter, as death was inevitable.

She was willing to sacrifice what remained of her, or anything necessary, to find relief from her suffering. It appeared that her time had not yet arrived, whether due to the grace of the Shinigami or a cruel twist of fate. Moreover, there was a sense that something else enticed the unknown force, causing it to refrain from taking her existence.

Eventually, Miru managed to crawl out of the house, grasping her breath. The smell of the grass and soil mixture with the smoke on her cloths made her realized she had successfully escaped and was at the front lawn of the house.

She looked back.

The house was engulfed in flames, the inferno consuming everything in its path. Thick, billowing smoke filled the air, obscuring the once-familiar structure. Orange and red flames danced and flickered, devouring the walls, roof, and windows with an insatiable hunger. It also devoured her abuser, neglection, suppression, lies, pain, and solitude.

Everything that shaped her existence was now in flames.

Now I will never know why she extinguished that cigarette in front of me.

The chance of them becoming a better parent that I envision, the possibility of them see me as their daughter, as a living person, was gone forever.

And here I am. Still alive.

Why.

It became impossible to discern whether the flames had injured her physically or if it was the turbulent thoughts and emotions that had engulfed her after she carried out her plan, causing terrible pain in her body. In the midst of this, she started to realize tears rolling down her face unconsciously, falling onto the lawn and mingling with the soil.

By the time firefighters arrived at the scene, it was already too late to save the adults. All they could see was a girl lying on the ground, desperately clinging to life.

With tear stains on her cheeks.

Chapter 9: Roger

Chapter Text

Wammy’s House, 1997.

Watari swiveled his chair as the girl approached his office door.

"What's the matter, Meri?" Watari asked, noticing her hesitation to come into the office. She seemed uncertain about something, her eyes slightly averting his gaze.

"Come over, my dear."

His voice was low and gentle, finally putting Meredith at ease and encouraging her to approach him.

Her black hair was neatly tied into a ponytail, and she was dressed in her school uniform, suggesting that she had just returned from school. She wore a black uniform blazer, a white shirt, a knee-length grey plaid skirt, and a red plaid bow around her neck, adding a touch of color and sophistication. This uniform differed from the typical attire seen in most schools in England; in fact, it resembled the uniform of a Japanese high school.

Meredith stood by Watari's side, but she resisted looking into his gray eyes. It was difficult not to notice her expressive eyes, with their darting iris, as she cast sidelong glances. Her tightly pressed lips revealed her struggle to hold back the words she wanted to blurt out.

Normally, she would make direct eye contact when speaking, particularly with him. Watari couldn't help but notice that this behavior was unusual for her.

"My dear, what's on your mind?" Watari felt concerned. Had something happened at school? Or was it because of the completely different educational culture at her new school? He wasn't sure, and patiently waited for her to explain what was bothering her.

As if finally mustering the courage, she spoke up slowly and deliberately, "Is it true that you won't be here often? You'll be moving somewhere with L?"

Her gaze focused on Watari as she spoke, but quickly averted his eyes, as if she feared his reply would be piercing. Uncertainty reflected in her eyes, which normally remained devoid of any emotions.

L must have told her, or she figured it out herself, or perhaps Roger had informed her.

He let out a sigh inside, but it didn't mean that her question was irrational; in fact, he had been expecting her to seek confirmation from him sooner or later.

"Yes, my dear," he replied. As he had anticipated, her demeanor changed to one of disappointment.
"I have decided to accompany L and join him on his path as a detective. He needs a different location to concentrate on his work and utilize new facilities."

Her heart plummeted as Watari confirmed the news to her.

Everything seemed so logical, so expected, after witnessing L's growth alongside Watari. But deep down, she longed for a different outcome, a reality where the decision wasn't true.

Two years ago, just as he did every day, L sat engrossed in a newspaper that had been handed to him by Watari. As he delved into its pages, his attention was completely captured by an exclusive news story column featuring unsolved and complex cases. This particular volume highlighted a serial murder case that had remained without any clues, and the investigation had long ceased without any leads to identify the killer.

With his eyes fixed on the text, L couldn't help but remark, "This murder case is much more difficult and interesting than any puzzle or game."

And within just three days of L expressing his interest, L sat in front of his computer screen, with Watari serving tea and Meredith by his side, deeply engrossed in a conference proceeding on sociology.

Abruptly breaking the room's usual tranquility, L spoke, "Finally found him."

The ten-year-old unsolved case had been cracked.

In that moment, Watari realized that he, too, had discovered the path he would walk alongside L.

As for Meredith, she knew that their paths would begin to diverge.

A year later, she silently witnessed the intense "detective war", where L emerged victorious, defeating the renowned detectives Eraldo Coil and Deneuve. At the age of 16, L surpassed both detectives, adopting their names and cementing his position as the foremost detective. Now, Eraldo Coil, Deneuve, and L stood as the three greatest detectives in the world, but in reality, all three of them were L.

As L's reputation continued to soar and his unwavering passion for solving cases burned brighter, it became increasingly impractical for him to remain at Wammy's House. The need for new facilities, a fresh location, enhanced privacy, and the freedom to operate outside the constraints of Wammy’s regular schedules led Watari to make the decision to officially graduate L from Wammy’s, recognizing that the institution had nothing more to offer him.

"Do you have to go with L?”

She did her best not to sound needy, as she saw it as somewhat immature and childish. However, in Watari's eyes, she was still a child, and he understood that their simultaneous departure from the institution would undoubtedly leave her feeling reluctant.

In the span of six years since their first encounter, serving desserts with Watari, the two children had grown somewhat dependent on each other. They found themselves competing to find the right resources for certain subjects in the library, engaging in debates over the potential outcomes if previous leaders had made different policy choices, challenging each other to solve mathematical problems faster, and discovering more efficient ways to conduct tricky chemistry experiments.

And so much more, making six years felt like a mere blink of an eye.

Without any hesitation, Watari replied in his usual calm tone, "You know L, he can't take care of himself properly. But we will come back here frequently. L would want to see you too."

Meredith saw her own reflection in his gaze, in those same gray eyes that brought her peace.

It was true that L didn't prioritize taking care of himself in certain aspects. He had a particular preference for wearing white long-sleeved tops paired with jeans, and Watari had to make sure to have multiple sets of these outfits prepared for him. While young children had their clothing collected and washed together, and older children were responsible for doing their own laundry and going to the laundry room, L was an exception. He never bothered to go to Wammy's House laundry room to take care of his laundry, and thus, the task fell on Watari.

Despite his listless appearance, L was particularly attentive to his hygiene, at least in the sense that he liked to be clean, which was commendable. L made sure to take regular showers to maintain his personal cleanliness. However, the process of taking a shower at Wammy's House presented a challenge for him. This meant he had to leave the comfort of his own room and use the communal bathroom, which irked him due to the lack of privacy and the need to interact with others in such a setting.

Therefore, the arrangement of allowing L to leave Wammy's House and find another location for his detective work and daily life had long been anticipated by Watari.

“Roger will be in charge of Wammy’s House after we finish arranging everything.”

Meredith nervously toyed with her fingers; her gaze fixated on her feet. It was evident that Watari had made up his mind, and there was no room for compromise. It was a decision that would distress Meredith, but Watari knew she had grown to be self-sufficient over the years, and with the next semester of her first year in the Japanese school starting, she would be occupied.

She never failed to reassure him.

Whether it was academic studying at Wammy's, or exercising her musical talent, or from his observation of her relationship with L over the years, Watari saw her managing it all properly and maintaining a well-balanced life. The once quiet, small girl had blossomed into someone who could confidently engage in conversations with others. When she was around Watari, she displayed the normalcy and affection that any child would have towards a father figure. She sought his guidance, shared warm embraces, and confided in him about her day at school.

Watari was always gratified by her progress.

But L had always been different from the start, and that hadn't changed since the day he entered Wammy's House. He possessed an exceptional intellect that surpassed that of any other child in the institution. Despite his disheveled and languid appearance, he exhibited remarkable powers of deduction. Socially detached and lacking a deep understanding of others on an emotional level, L rarely engaged in interactions with his peers. Even after all those years had passed, the girl standing before Watari was the only exception, as she managed to establish a unique connection with him.

It seemed to be a combination of luck and serendipity.

But now, luck appeared to be slipping away for Meredith, and she felt an urgent desire to hold onto it, to stretch it beyond its limits. She recognized that her initial entry into their lives had been driven by her exceptional musical talent. While she was intelligent for her age, she knew she could never match the extraordinary intellect of L or possess the same detective abilities.

She had to ask, for she was willing to try anything to stay by the side of the two closest individuals in her life.

"Watari, what should I do to remain by your side, to stay by L's side? Am I capable of that too?"

Watari instantly recognized a flicker of something in her typically inscrutable eyes, a spark that had emerged and grown brighter over the years they had spent together. It was a gleam that seemed to appear only in the presence of L and himself.

The fatherly figure looked at her, aware of her proximity to them and the earnestness in her eyes, as well as her accomplishments.

If she insists, perhaps there is a way.

"My child," he spoke gently, "L doesn't fully comprehend the human mind and may cross legal boundaries. If you wish to become his ally, his support, and remain by his side, then prove your ability."

The vulnerability and uncertainty had been replaced with determination, shining in her eyes.

"I will, Watari. I will."

Roger Ruvie stomped through the hallway of Wammy’s House, his brown eyes peering through the lenses of his small, round glasses, scanning everyone and everything in the orphanage.

"Matthew, how many times do I have to tell you not to run in the hallway?"

"Elaine, shouldn't you be in class?"

"No, you can't pour hydrochloric acid on the marble counter in the kitchen - no, you don't have to try it yourself to see if calcium carbonate would react with the acid - It will, and then the cook won't have a kitchen to use, and all of us will have to skip supper because of your experiment. And please put that back in the laboratory! NOW!"

"And whoever you are, yes, you over there, DON’T PICK YOUR NOSE AND NO DON’T EAT - ” It was too late. “Ah well…go and wash your hands! With soap!"

Children. He disliked them.

The loudness, arrogance, screaming, and capriciousness—God knows why he agreed to take full charge of Wammy's House.

“Shouldn’t have agreed Quillsh on this matter - ” he grumbled, while picking up a piece of rubbish on the floor that was left by another kid.

But Roger continued his rounds, patrolling the common areas and checking on the children in each area. With his hands behind his back, he had an eagle eye that scanned the space, quickly spotting those who shouldn't be there. He had a remarkable memory for their schedules, believing that it would make things much easier. These children would often try to argue with him, claiming their schedule was something else in an attempt to fool him and deviate from their regular routines.

Although he disliked children, handling administrative work and running an orphanage was not a big deal for Roger. He was well acquainted with how Watari operated things. As Watari's trusted spotter, Roger Ruvie knew the man inside and out.

"Watari" was also an alias, and those who knew him called him by that name. However, when it was just the two of them, Roger preferred to address Watari by his real name, Quillsh.

Quillsh Wammy, born on May 1, 1935, had witnessed the devastating effects of the War and come of age during the challenging period of rebuilding and recovery.

They all experienced it: the incendiary air raids, with explosions lighting up the sky and fires raging in the distance. Civilians scrambled to extinguish the two incendiaries that had landed in their front gardens. It was a stark and unsettling image, revealing the profound impact of the war on suburban Britain. Streetlights were replaced by the glow of fires, and the ordinary rhythm of life was constantly threatened and disrupted. Bombings of towns and cities, along with the relentless onslaught of flying bombs and rockets, subjected children at a tender age to witnessing lifeless bodies and loved ones lying motionless on the ground, unresponsive.

Rationing of food and clothing began in 1940 and continued until 1941. By 1943, nearly every household item was either in short supply, requiring long queues to acquire, or simply unobtainable.

While Britain displayed remarkable mobilization efforts and a genuine spirit of community that often transcended class and other barriers, it was also a country exhausted, dreary, and in a state of disrepair. Some argued that it could never fully return to the pre-war social conditions.

Neither Quillsh nor Roger had witnessed the pre-war era.

The world had been in a state of devastation for as long as they could remember, and the slow recovery of England's society after the war ended was the only aspect of the world they had ever known. The economic recovery was sluggish, housing was scarce, and it was the American loans and Marshall Plan grants that kept the economy afloat.

Shortly thereafter, the Cold War began, reaching its peak from 1948 to 1953 with the news of the Soviet Union exploding their first atomic warhead. Witnessing such dynamics in the world compelled Quillsh Wammy to feel the need to serve his country. As England actively participated in this global conflict, it presented opportunities for individuals with specialized skills to contribute to national security efforts. He then joined the Secret Intelligence Service (SIS), commonly known as MI6, and assumed the alias "Watari." Later on, Roger Ruvie also joined the same unit.

During the post-war years, they underwent rigorous training in intelligence and military skills, with Watari as the team's skilled shooter and Roger as his spotter, providing vital support and surveillance. Roger also carried an automatic assault rifle, ensuring their protection and serving as an additional line of defense.

With limited support from their unit, the weight of their responsibilities was immense, as the success or failure of their missions impacted the safety and well-being of the entire team. They relied on each other for survival, forming a bond beyond ordinary understanding.

In addition to his missions and training, Watari's remarkable abilities and contributions went beyond his expertise in espionage. He became famous for his inventive creations and technological advancements, and made substantial contributions to the intelligence community and advanced technology, earning widespread recognition as both a celebrated inventor and a prominent figure in the intelligence world.

After serving in MI6 for 20 years, Watari had the option to continue, but he made a deliberate decision to retire early.

“Roger, there are other ways to change the world, and I believe I have fulfilled my duty in serving our nation."

That’s what Watari had told him.

Motivated by his firsthand experiences of the war's aftermath and his work in espionage, he utilized the wealth he had accumulated as an inventor to establish an extraordinary orphanage in 1980 called "Wammy's House." This exceptional training facility aimed to nurture the talents of gifted children and empower them to create a better world.

Watari’s ultimate goal was to prevent another devastating world war from ever happening again.

At Wammy's House, young prodigious children were brought to the institution around the world to receive education. The educational approach involved inviting university professors, researchers, and top specialists from around the world to provide personalized instruction that catered to the unique abilities and potential of each child.

Classes at Wammy's House were primarily conducted remotely to protect the children's identities and provide scheduling flexibility. However, there were also in-person sessions taught by trusted individuals carefully selected for their expertise and ability to meet the specific needs of certain students.

The combination of remote and in-person classes, facilitated by trusted individuals, provided a comprehensive and well-rounded learning experience for the students at Wammy's House.

As Roger continued patrolling, reprimanding children who lingered in places where they shouldn't, Roger realized he was almost halfway done with his rounds.

Then, he arrived at the third floor, where two rooms held special significance. The boy who occupied one of these rooms was the main reason why Roger had taken charge of Wammy's House.

"I heard your assets have multiplied nearly 20 thousand times the original amount since you followed investment instructions provided by the boy you took in a few years ago," Roger inquired. "I remember you mentioning his name was L. What is he like, actually?"

"Well, he is an extraordinary child."

"In what way?"

"To be honest, when he was around eight years old, he single-handedly averted a potential World War III."

"Eight? Isn't that the same age you took him in?"

"Yes, Roger. Somehow, he uncovered an operation linked to a nuclear strike from the Soviet Union and managed to prevent it, just before the Soviet Union dissolved. It was a dangerously close call. I had no idea he was involved in such high-stakes matters when he requested a supercomputer in his room and access to the internet."

Roger's jaw dropped in disbelief.

"From the moment he displayed a keen interest in solving complex criminal cases without any clues, I realized the path I would walk alongside L.

Roger had encountered L on several occasions, and it was safe to say that L did not possess the kind of charm that would make your distant relatives burst with joy and shower you with hugs and kisses. The most recent encounter was when Watari took L to their new location, while Roger assisted to move his belongings onto the car, although there weren’t many.

Watari had mentioned L's peculiarities to Roger, and Roger imagined L as a genius wrapped in chaos.

This portrayal wasn't far from reality; in fact, L seemed even more disheveled than Roger had imagined.

The teenage boy, aged 16, often stood hunched over. Roger estimated his height to be around 5 feet 5 inches, though it could have been as tall as 5 feet 7 inches. His jet-black hair was a mess, with strands sticking out at odd angles, as if they had a mind of their own.

A bird could have mistaken his hair for a perfect nesting spot.

While he didn't make much eye contact with Roger, L's round eyes held an intense gaze, like shards of obsidian that revealed little of his thoughts. Despite his pallid complexion, his face remained unblemished and clean, though his figure appeared noticeably underweight.

However, what truly left a lasting impression on Roger were the dark shadows beneath the teen's eyes. Roger suspected drug use, but Watari insisted it was due to insomnia.

It still looks like it, Roger muttered in his mind.

And Watari decided to walk along with this boy, leaving him in charge of the orphanage.

"Would you be willing to take control of Wammy's House for me, Roger?"

"…Quillsh, I've already assisted you in your absence, but asking me to do this - "

It was a role that Roger did not particularly enjoy, mainly because he was the complete opposite of Watari. Watari possessed an abundance of patience when it came to dealing with children, whereas Roger lacked that quality entirely. Little did he know that when he initially stepped in to assist Watari in bringing a child from the other side of the world to Wammy's House, it would eventually lead to him assuming full responsibility for running the orphanage.

Taking full control of the situation was an entirely different matter, and Roger remembered he was reluctant at first -

"Roger. Please."

He remembered seeing the sincerity in Watari's eyes.

"Remember the vision we shared? A world without war, without the tension we've encountered. This boy... he has the potential to create that world. I need to stay by his side, to fulfill our shared dream. We can create a world that embraces diversity instead of viewing it as an enemy."

"Perhaps one day, the world will become a place that can tolerate, or even accept people like us."

“People like us.” Roger muttered.

Why is this man, the best marksman in the MI6, is still a hopeless romantic - even after witnessing so much pain and suffering during the Cold War-still envisions a world that can be changed. Moreover, he believes that genius children hold the key to that change- and now he finally found one who is capable of making it happen and making me accept his request -

It was hard to reject him. Eventually, Roger reluctantly gave in and took charge of the orphanage, accompanied by plenty of grumbling under his breath.

He stood by the room that belonged to L, and made sure the room was locked, in case any children accidentally sneak in. The young detective would still return to the institution occasionally, and the room was still occupied by him. L would certainly prefer other children not to invade his private domain.

Aside from being the primary reason for Watari appointing Roger as the head of Wammy's House, L's success brought about a significant shift in the orphanage's policies. In addition to providing resources to gifted children to nurture their talents, Watari now had the goal of cultivating more individuals like L, who could contribute to justice and society as detectives. The children who were taken in had the potential to become successors to L's legacy. Even those who didn't possess the exact qualities of L would still receive resources to develop their talents and make a positive impact on the world in their own distinctive ways.

Roger glanced at his watch and noted the time. It was 15:50, and he knew that the occupant of the room opposite L's would be finishing school at 16:00 and expected to return at 16:30.

This individual, like L, held a unique and intriguing quality that Roger found to be quite unusual.

On the very first day he assumed control of Wammy's House, Watari introduced her to him.

"Roger, you may recognize her. This is Meredith."

He had recognized her long before he began assisting Watari with the administrative work at Wammy's House. His interest in the girl could be traced back nine years ago to a day when he and Watari engaged in their regular shooting training, which they typically did for recreation.

He patiently sat at the shooting range, meticulously wiping down his rifle with a soft cloth, eagerly awaiting the arrival of Watari.

The sky was a brilliant shade of blue, and thin clouds helped to diffuse the sunlight, creating a perfect balance of light and shade. The gentle breeze blew away any heat, and the coolness that it brought was perfect for the shooter to stay focused and comfortable.

All in all, it was a day that seemed to have been tailor-made for shooting training, a recreation that he and Watari shared after both of them retired from the field of espionage.

He heard soft rustles, indicating footsteps walking on the grass. As Roger looked up, he saw Watari walking towards him, and just as he was about to greet him, his attention was quickly drawn to the small girl beside Watari, holding his hand.

Being familiar with Watari as an experienced marksman, it seemed uncharacteristic of him to take such a risk by bringing a child to the shooting range.

"Who is she, Watari?" Roger instantly called him by his alias. "And why did you bring her to the shooting range?"

Watari replied as he pulled out his sniper rifle, "Ah, she's just a girl I'm looking after for the day. Don't worry, she'll just sit at the bench and won't be a bother."

Roger couldn't help but feel suspicious.

As they started their routine, he couldn’t help but notice the girl, no older than 5.

She had black hair and a pale face, wearing the earmuffs that Watari had handed her to protect her ears from the noise. She sat quietly, watching Watari snipe a target a mile away.

Roger’s attention then turned to Watari, who seemed focused solely on his own shooting, paying no attention to the girl sitting beside him. He didn't offer any guidance or instruction, only gave some glimpses in her direction to check on her.

The girl just sat there. It seemed she was simply there as a companion.

To Roger, the strangest part was not the girl’s calm demeanor at the shooting range but rather Watari's willingness to bring her along without even providing any training. Roger had assumed that Watari must have seen some marksmanship talent in the girl, which is why he brought her to the range in the first place.

But no, he did not train her. After several occasions of accompanying Watari, one day he ceased taking her to the shooting range. Those particular occasions were solely about allowing her to stay by his side.

The clock bells rang, indicating that it was 16:00 and bringing Roger back from his memories. He stood outside Meredith's room and opened the door to check.

(Dorms and bedrooms were not allowed to be locked in Wammy's House, to prevent children from locking each other in rooms and requiring Roger to intervene and rescue them. Keys were mostly kept by Roger, with L's room being an exception.)

Inside the room, he noticed piles of papers and books on her desk and the floor, and sheet music she was currently practicing on was also stacked on the piano. Although they weren't scattered everywhere, Roger couldn't help but frown at the somewhat organized-yet-chaotic scene.

I suppose I’ll have to remind her again when she returns from school, Roger thought, while closing the door.

He headed to the other dorms and checked the bunk beds of the younger children. He made mental notes of which beds needed a change in the sheets or required the child to tidy up. Watari emphasized cleanliness, but he allowed the children to decorate their beds or have toys and comfort dolls by their sides, and Roger followed that rule.

Roger then headed for the rooms for the teens. Teens were allowed to have their own rooms, but also cannot be locked, and although Roger was resistant to check the teen’s rooms, there were individuals that do not manage their rooms properly and would cause a nuisance to others.

“Urgh, Ethan again. Full and smelly rubbish bin- ”

After finally checking all the rooms and noting who should be reminded, he headed to the gates and waited for those who attended school outside Wammy’s House for their return.

For Wammy's House students who possessed higher social interaction abilities and might attract public attention, it was necessary for them to attend a traditional English school in addition to their education at Wammy's House. The choice of school, whether private or public, depended on the child's personality and could be made by the child or by Watari. In most cases, these students would be placed in higher grades, although the curriculum remained quite basic for them.

The purpose was to provide them with a normal school experience, allowing them to blend in and better explain their experiences to others without revealing their true identities. The chosen school served as a smokescreen, deterring anyone attempting to track their identities from directly discovering Wammy's House.

As individuals returned from school, Roger “greeted” them.

"Ethan, your rubbish bin is full. Clean it at once."

"Charlotte, there's hair all over the floor in your room. Please sweep it."

"Fitz, I found snacks in your room. Take them back to the kitchen closet yourself, or I will confiscate them."

Then, Roger noticed Meredith returning. Her school uniform stood out from the others. While they all wore blazers, and some girls wore skirts, Meredith's uniform featured a red plaid ribbon as an accessory, which was not typical in English schools. It was a uniform from the nearest Japanese school.

At the age of 14, Watari had arranged for her to attend a Japanese school in England, and it was undoubtedly unusual.

When Roger asked Watari about the reason behind sending Meredith to a Japanese school instead of an English one, he responded, "I wanted her to preserve the Japanese customs from her original family. Despite being born in England, I wanted her to have the chance to experience a Japanese high school education."

Not very convincing, Roger thought. More likely a display of favoritism towards her.

"Meredith, your room is flooded with documents. Put them back where they belong, whether it's on your bookshelf or in the library."

"But Mr. Ruvie, I am currently studying all of those, and I know exactly where everything is, and they are all within my immediate reach," she innocently gazed at him as she presented her excuse.

It was hard not to accept the excuse. Meredith's room was undeniably clean, and she diligently studied the piles of books. In fact, she was pursuing a double major in psychology and sociology at another university while simultaneously attending her second year of high school. Watari had negotiated with the school on her behalf, allowing her to take classes outside of the regular curriculum while maintaining her status as a Japanese high school student. This arrangement gave her the privilege of not being required to attend school as frequently, considering that her academic progress had already surpassed that of a typical high school student.

"There's something else I wanted to tell you." Roger took a step closer to Meredith and leaned in, lowering his voice. "Watari informed me that he and L will be returning this weekend."

She beamed, her smile blossoming like a flower. "That's great news, Mr. Ruvie."

There was something else about her that made her stand out. It wasn't just her intelligence, as all the children at Wammy's House were intelligent. It was the close relationship she shared with the enigmatic detective.

Roger knew that Meredith had been brought to the orphanage for her exceptional musical talent and was not originally considered a candidate to become L's successor according to the previous policy. However, he couldn't help but notice that whenever Watari and L returned from their trips to investigate cases or simply came back to Wammy's House to access its resources and facilities, L would always make a point to meet with her.

"I wanted to give this to you, Mr. Ruvie," she said, reaching into her school bag and pulling out a folder. "We had a unit on printmaking in art class, and our teacher asked us to carve a print for making bookplates."

She handed him a bookplate featuring the Wammy's House organization's coat of arms, adorned with very delicate monarch butterflies, a caterpillar, and speckled dots and stars around them. However, instead of the typical orange and yellow colors, the butterflies and caterpillars were colored in blue.

"Monarch butterflies aren't blue," Roger pointed out.

"I know, but I like the color blue," she grinned, then headed inside the house.

Chapter 10: Youth

Chapter Text

"The killer is -"

"Stop! Don't! We're only halfway through the movie, L," Meredith interrupted, pouting.

They were in Meredith's room, with L glaring at her while the videotape continued playing on the monitor. It was Friday evening, and L and Watari had just returned to Wammy's House from their latest investigation. Their routine involved coming back to the institution about once a week, typically on Fridays. During their visits, L would spend a day or the entire weekend at most with Meredith in the orphanage.

Not much had changed between them since L and Watari moved out a year ago, only the frequency of their interactions declined. They still engaged in normal activities together, often just being present in each other's view.

"But it's obvious," he insisted, “It’s – ”

She quickly covered L’s mouth in attempt to stop him from blurting out. "I haven't figured out who it is yet. Please don't spoil it. You always do."

"Why haven't you figured it out? You usually catch on by now. It's impossible that you couldn't figure out this one." L's muffled voice came from beneath her hands.

She resumed her posture by sitting back, removing her hands, "I was too distracted by the actor's terrible violin playing. It's all wrong, you know. The gestures, the bow technique, and how she plays it, it's completely inaccurate."

"Really? Let me rewind a bit and rewatch that scene." L took the remote control, adjusted the time, and they both focused on the scene where the protagonist was performing.

Meredith pointed out, "See that? She's pressing the wrong string. It's impossible to play that note like that, and therefore, it's impossible for the bomb to be triggered by that specific sound frequency."

She reached for her violin on the violin stand and played the note. "She should press it on this spot of the third string, instead of the second," Meredith explained, while putting her instrument back on the stand.

"I see. So the bad acting - that's why you're not convinced Mr. Krieg is the real killer?"

Meredith rolled her eyes. "…Thanks, L, for spoiling who the true killer is."

He grinned; he liked the way she rolled her eyes. It was one of the few expressions she would only show in front of him. Besides her soft smile, which she reserved for everyone when being polite or genuinely happy, she mostly maintained a plain expression, concealing her emotions.

It had been a long time since he had seen any other expression from her, such as crying. Since that day when they were still young, she had never cried again, at least not to his knowledge. He was still curious about what happened that day, but was also aware that it was a question that needed to wait for the perfect timing to ask, and he was willing to patiently wait for the day when the mystery would unravel.

L picked up another tape pinching it with his two fingers, "So, now that you already know who the killer is, shall we proceed to another tape?"

She glanced at the stacks of videotape boxes they had borrowed from the Wammy's library, containing the latest donation of around 27 recently released movies from one of the professors. However, when it came to suspense movies, L always appeared to effortlessly guess the true culprit, leaving Meredith uninterested as L consistently nailed it. As a result, they had already made their way through half of the collection.

"No, it's no fun if you're spoiling it," Meredith said, lying back on the carpet and gazing at the ceiling.

L smiled and suddenly appeared in her field of view. "I have a feeling for chess. Do you want to play?"

"Sure, but the chess set is in the game room downstairs."

"Oh, right." He had forgotten he hoarded the chess set for over 6 years, along with anything else that interested him from the game room when he first arrived at the orphanage. Because of him, Watari had to purchase additional sets of chess for the other children. The chess set was only returned to the game room after L moved out of Wammy's House.

"We could go and get it," Meredith suggested. Bet he doesn't want to go out, she thought.

"I'll go get it if you're coming with me," L replied, getting up from the floor. "You're coming, right?"

"I thought you would think it was a bother to do so," she said, sitting up and standing.

"It's better if there's someone who can accompany me."

They both hurried out of Meredith's room, swiftly making their way to the game room on the first floor. They scanned their surroundings, skillfully avoiding encounters with other people in the hallway. They took cover behind pillars, pressing their backs against the walls to ensure that no one saw them.

"The coast is clear, Agent Meri," L said in a commanding voice, his gaze sweeping the hallway.

Meredith giggled at L’s demeanor, and accommodated his playfulness as if they were on a covert mission. "Understood, Agent L."

L motioned for her to follow him, “Call me Agent Coil.”

"Your current alias?" she asked, matching his pace.

L speed-walked while replying, "In the last solved case, I used the name Eraldo Coil."

Taking a quick detour, they swiftly ducked into a nearby alcove, perfectly timed to avoid a passing janitor. The sound of his keys jingled ominously, though it turned out to be none other than Roger, carrying out his regular patrols.

When the sounds of Roger’s footsteps faded into the distance, they exchanged a relieved glance and resumed to heading towards the game room.

"We're closing in on our objective, Agent Coil," Meredith said, following L. "What made you suddenly want to play chess?"

"IBM's Deep Blue chess-playing computer defeated chess champion Garry Kasparov. I feel the need to sharpen my chess skills, or else I might be replaced by a computer too."

"I read about that. It's truly amazing."

"It certainly is, and I predict that the development of artificial intelligence will reach its peak within 50 years."

"I think you're underestimating this technology. I'm guessing it will happen within 20 years."

L looked back at her, "We'll see about that then. Let's make a bet on who predicts the development of artificial intelligence more accurately."

He went on, “Wonder if artificial intelligence could develop playing other board games, such as Go or Shogi - ”

He then was taken by surprise as an unexpected obstacle appeared, resulting in an accidental collision with a young boy. The force of the collision disrupted the boy's balance, causing him to stagger backward and inevitably crash to the ground with a resounding thud. He winced in pain as his body absorbed the shock, while his books scattered across the floor.

"Hey, watch where you're going!" the boy exclaimed, his voice tinged with irritation.

L swiftly regained his composure, realizing his mistake, and began collecting the fallen books, "Sorry, wasn't paying attention."

Handing the boy his books, L turned and hurried away, leaving Meredith with the boy.

"Are you okay? Do you need to go to the health center?" She extended her hand to the boy, and pulled him up. As she looked at him, a sense of recognition flashed through her mind, as if she had just glimpsed a younger version of L. Despite the lack of a striking resemblance in their features, the boy's hairstyle, slender frame, and mannerisms carried an undeniable familiarity. He seemed to be around four years younger than both of them.

"Yeah, I'm fine," the boy replied, dusting off his clothes. "I don't need to go to the health center. Thanks."

Meredith's gaze lingered on the boy's departing figure, captivated by his gait and slightly hunched posture that bore a striking resemblance to L. It piqued her curiosity, but she quickly shifted her focus towards the game room. From the entrance, L's hand waved eagerly, beckoning her to join him and capturing her attention.

"I guess you failed your mission, Agent Coil," Meredith said with a smile, entering the game room.

L frowned playfully, "I suppose I have."

They exchanged a smile, their earlier encounter already fading from their minds. They grabbed the chess set they had used in their youth, opting for the familiar pieces instead of the newer ones provided by Watari and Roger.

“So, let’s do it again. This time, I will not fail the mission, Agent Meri.”

"How was the last case?" Meredith asked, studying the chessboard as L moved his pawn to d5.

"Humans are a cunning species," L responded, his voice as monotone as ever.

"How so?"

“The traffickers pose themselves as benevolent individuals offering promising job opportunities to those who have vulnerable backgrounds for a better life. They have also established great reputation among the locals, and so it was quite a shock for them to know that they were not benevolent beings as they seemed to be.”

She was not unfamiliar with cunning people. "They truly are monsters," she said, moving her pawn to c4.

L's faint brows raised slightly at her remark, but he swiftly made his move. "Yes. Monsters," he agreed, his focus on the chessboard.

“You want to share with me how you solved it?”

He contemplated Meredith’s request for a moment, his gaze drifting from the chessboard. "I started by analyzing the profiles of the victims and mapping the incidents. It was a basic step, but it led me to conclude that the traffickers targeted within a limited geographic radius, leveraging proximity to their advantage."

She moved her knight to f3, "That makes sense. If they presented themselves as the main financial supporters in the area, they would need a deep connection with the locals to gain their trust when introducing job opportunities."

L resumed his moves, switching the King and Rook. "After that, I delved into the financial transactions of the related job agencies. With some assistance from the German government, I managed to scrutinize bank statements, wire transfers, and cash flow patterns. It revealed a complex web of shell companies and offshore accounts."

Meredith captured L's pawn with her knight, acknowledging his deduction. "Typical money laundering techniques to hide their illicit profits."

L seized her knight in return, his focus undeterred, "There had to be an insider connection within the local law enforcement agencies given the magnitude of this operation. The German investigation body became untrustworthy, and I had no choice but to seek support from the BfV. I conducted personal interviews with selected agents and allocated extra time to discreetly perform background checks on key individuals involved in the investigation."

He continued, "After gathering the information provided by the undercover agents, it became evident that one of the high-ranking officials within the local law enforcement agency was the mastermind behind the operation. This individual had abused their authority to protect the traffickers and profit from their criminal activities," L concluded, his gaze shifting from the chessboard to Meredith.

Intrigued, Meredith posed, "So, who do you think the true monster is? The insider or the trafficker?"

L smiled wryly, his mind already set. "Take your guess. On the count of three."

“One,”
“Two,”
“Three- ”

“The insider.”
“The insider.”

"I see we have reached the same conclusion," he said, moving his queen straight and taking her pawn. "Checkmate."

Meredith moved her king away. "Nice move, but I see the game can still continue."

"Yes, another case has been assigned to me by Watari, so this time I won't be able to stay until Sunday night. I'll be leaving on Sunday morning, before anyone wakes up."

"…Oh," she replied, directly taking his knight, her gaze momentarily flickered away.

L noticed a hint of dimness in her expression and decided to change the subject. "What are you currently reading? It would be nice if we could finish the same book before we meet again and discuss it."

Meredith moved her rook. "I'm reading 'Oliver Twist' by Charles Dickens."

L contemplated reaching for his bishop but hesitated. "At what part are you currently?"

"I've reached the part where Oliver meets the juvenile pickpockets, fa*gin, and the part where the old gentlemen offer to take care of him at their home."

He was, in fact, familiar with the plot of Oliver Twist. An orphan thrust into the ruthless world of crime, Oliver encounters the dark underbelly of society. What L had experienced was similar, if not more painful than the events depicted in the novel itself, and he hadn't intended to share it with Meredith. Moreover, the girl had her own secrets, so why should he be the first to reveal his own? Nevertheless, he realized that without disclosing some of his own experiences, he might never unravel the mystery that lay before him.

"What do you think about the juvenile pickpockets?" L inquired.

"…Hmm, I'm not sure. I've never encountered one myself, but it seems like they have no choice. However, it would be unreasonable for me to claim I understand what they're going through, as I've never experienced poverty in any form," Meredith replied, moving her queen. "I don't think I'm grounded enough to say anything about them."

L found her response amusing, "Then, what would you do if you noticed a pickpocket taking your things?"

"I would let them take it, pretending not to notice. Those belongings are just worldly possessions for me, but they might be someone else's next meal."

Gazing at the girl before him, he was unsure if she was telling the truth or not. But in moments like this, when he couldn't determine if she was lying, he found it was usually the truth.

And that made him feel comfortable sharing a piece of himself with her, subtly.

"Recommend something else for me. I don't need to read about a protagonist with a similar story to mine," said L, shifting his gaze back to the chessboard, purposely avoiding looking at her reaction, expecting her to be slightly surprised by his disclosure.

He wasn't wrong. Her eyes widened upon hearing his statement, but she quickly composed herself. "Then what interests you?"

L looked up at her, "Perhaps something equally meaningful?"

Meredith hesitated, "I'm... I'm not sure if there's anything similar."

To what extent should she reveal? She found herself uncertain about which parts of her past were acceptable to disclose. Should she talk about the neglect she endured from her mother, or the abuse she suffered at the hands of her father? How would L perceive her? Even she couldn't bear the cowardice of her younger self, unable to protect herself. It would also be challenging to explain the conflicting longing she felt for her mother despite the manipulative and verbal abuse she endured.

L mentioned that his past was similar to Oliver Twist's, implying he may have experienced poverty. If she were to disclose her privileged upbringing, it might only hurt his feelings.

And…how she escaped from her family…it certainly was not a good story to share with him…there seemed to be nothing suitable.

He noticed her uncertainty and decided to let it go. "Never mind, just recommend whatever comes to your mind that you think is good."

Meredith paused for a moment and then said, "...The Great Gatsby, then." She believed that providing such subtle hints should be enough, even if they were not part of the main storyline.

It was now her turn, and as she moved her bishop, she gently declared, "Checkmate, L."

L's gaze shifted back to the board, realizing the dire situation he was in, but it was too late to make any changes.

The game had come to an end.

Chapter 11: Kite

Chapter Text

Checkerboard cookies. That's what she said they were.

Or so he thought.

Were they still within the definition of pastry?

He would prefer to simply call them “things.”

The things on the plate seemed rather... different from what L normally recognized. He had expected dual-colored cookies, combining classic vanilla and chocolate sugar cookies.

But these looked nothing like checkerboard cookies; they resembled more like chocolate cookies, perhaps ones where the cook had dumped too much chocolate powder into the mixture. The color was a deep brown, bordering on black, and they could easily pass for charcoal briquettes, with the aroma of burnt butter lingering in the air.

L picked up one of the cookies with his fingers and examined it under the light. They were definitely burnt. To be more precise, they weren't just slightly burnt; they were completely charred, lacking any hint of golden brown.

He couldn't help but let out a small chuckle, finding the appearance of the cookies too hilarious to handle.

Looking at the girl holding the plate of things before him, he remarked dryly, "It's quite a talent you have to turn cookies into this color."

As L thought about the image she had in his mind – her endless creativity in music composition, her accuracy in playing instruments, her nice handwriting compared to his, her sharpness in math and science, and her ability to keep up with his deductions –

"I never knew there was something you weren't good at, and now I know," He added.

"I did follow the cook's instructions on the fridge, which said to slice the cookie dough and bake them for 12 minutes," Meredith narrowed her eyes and let out a sheepish smile.

Did she? Judging by the cookies themselves, it was hard to believe. Pre-made cookie dough had been left in the fridge by the Wammy's House cook, accompanied by a note instructing anyone who wanted freshly baked cookies to slice the dough into even portions.

There was no need to prepare the recipe; all they had to do was bake them.

L glanced at her while pointing at the burnt cookies, "And then... they turned out like this?"

“...they seemed uncooked when I checked the oven... so I added another 5 minutes, and they turned out like this,” she avoided his glance, shifting.

"Just by looking at them, one might easily mistake them for chocolate cookies," L observed, his eyes scanning the cookies' cracked and charred exteriors.

He paused and considered whether his words had been too sarcastic or rude. After all, she was the one who had suggested the idea for a small trip to a spot she had discovered, and he had left her with the task of mainly planning for the picnic today. He felt that he should offer her more encouragement, or at least, to be more polite.

L decided to take a bite.

Upon seeing him raising the burnt cookie to his mouth, Meredith quickly intervened, saying, "You don't have to try it, you know."

Ignoring her warning, he took a small bite and mumbled, “Tastes like over-brewed coffee.”

"Spit it out then."

"I'll try another bite." L looked at the nibbled cookie and sighed, "...forget it."

"Told you," Meredith said as she took the cookie from L and collected the rest into a plastic bag, preparing to throw them away, "I suppose our picnic will have to consist of fruit and black tea then."

They checked their bags, making sure they had everything they needed: a kite to assemble, snacks, fruit, pre-made iced tea, a hot water bottle with black tea, and a picnic blanket borrowed from the institution's storage.

"It will be sunny outside. Don't you want to wear a hat?" Meredith suggested, putting on a straw sun hat adorned with a white chiffon bow.

"No, I'd rather not have something on my head," L shrugged as he folded the picnic blanket into his backpack.

"At least wear sunglasses. We'll be riding bikes for about 30 minutes to reach the spot."

Before he knew it, he felt her hands slide a pair of glasses onto his face, and she swiftly pulled out a compact, revealing the new addition to his appearance. It was a pair of round black retro sunglasses, and he couldn't help but find himself looking somewhat ridiculous, much like the cookies she had previously messed up. However, he decided to let it slide, choosing not to make a fuss about it.

"I suppose this will do."

"Great, now let's head out for the bikes."

The bike shed, located at the edge of the institution, housed a diverse collection of ten personal bikes, each representing its owner's unique style and color preference. The bikes showcased a range of designs, including commuter bikes, cruiser bikes, and bikes equipped with front or rear baskets and saddle bags for additional storage.

L observed one bike frame covered in stickers, creating a visually chaotic display. "Some people certainly have unique tastes," he commented, intrigued by the owner's creative expression.

Meredith pulled out her own bike, a cream-colored cruiser with a front basket, and casually explained, "Owners have the freedom to decorate and maintain their bikes according to their preferences."

She pointed to the communal bikes nearby and suggested, "For you, you can use one of the communal bikes. I haven't borrowed an extra lock, but we can secure our bikes together using mine."

L shifted his attention to the accommodated communal bikes. These bikes, available for general use, served the purpose of daily activities, recreational outings, or downtown trips for all the children. Unlike the personal bikes, the communal bikes did not require locking, making them a convenient option for those without their own bikes or those in need of an extra bike, especially for school commutes.

"I believe the handyman checked the bikes this morning, so you can choose any of them. They should all be in good condition," Meredith assured L while inspecting her own tire.

The two hopped on their bikes, with L following Meredith as she led the way to their destination. The breeze gently brushed against their faces, and he observed the person leading in front, her long hair danced in harmony with the wind, swaying gracefully behind her along with the ribbon on her hat.

It had been a while since L had gone out for leisure activities with Meredith. Most of the time, he was busy in an undisclosed location, unknown even to Meredith. He spent his days locked in his room, completely engrossed in investigating and solving cases, as that was what truly piqued his interest. It was only on the days when he returned to Wammy's House that he had the opportunity to engage in activities other than solving cases, thanks to Meredith's initiative in coming up with various activities to do together.

Life at Wammy's was different from his past experiences. It consisted of peaceful days like today, free from the constant presence of violence or threats that could disrupt his sleep or instill fear of being caught. There was no need for him to set up traps for enemies, constantly be on the run, worry about making money, or struggle to find food.

It wasn't bad, just vastly different. In contrast to the thrilling experiences he had in the past, life at the orphanage was safe, but often accompanied by moments of boredom. Especially after solving all the puzzles and finding the games provided in the orphanage too easy to entertain him, he faced bouts of monotony. Regarding books, he lacked interest in academic subjects, but to alleviate boredom, he would read whatever Watari handed him or any books that Meredith suggested.

Moments like these helped alleviate the boredom he felt, whether it was through engaging in shared activities such as reading together, studying, savoring desserts, learning Japanese, or simply observing her practice her musical instruments. The appeal of these moments lay not in their level of excitement or thrill, but rather in the tranquility and stillness they provided.

“You keeping up?” she called from the front.

“Yeah, keep your focus ahead, Meri.”

Perhaps she was one of the few people he tried to understand without a specific purpose in mind, unlike when he had to figure out the motives of culprits or suspects in cases. The other would be Watari.

Just simply knowing someone who was close to him.

“We’ll be taking a right turn on the next crossroad.”

The surroundings transformed from suburban areas to picturesque meadows and fields as they pedaled swiftly under the clear blue skies. Together, they struggled to pedal up a small slope, feeling the burn in their legs, and then they enjoyed the exhilarating speed as they glided downhill.

Finally, they arrived at a grove beside a meadow, where vibrant colors of delicate wildflowers and lavender ranging from white, pale pink to deep purple were nestled amidst the emerald blades, dancing in harmony with the swaying grass. Beside the flower field, a creek meandered through the picturesque landscape, its clear waters reflecting the shimmering sunlight.

They parked their bikes and kicked off their shoes, finding a cozy spot on the creek bank under a shady tree. The dappled sunlight filtered through the leaves, creating a warm and gentle glow.

"How did you even find this spot?" L scanned the surroundings, squinting his eyes as sunlight created round spots and cast shadows on his face.

Meredith knelt down and motioned L for the picnic blanket, "I was strolling around and stumbled upon here."

As they set up the picnic together, spreading out the array of snacks and fruits on the checkered blanket, a delightful assortment greeted their eyes. Cranberry olive cheese skewers, cherries, blackberries, raspberries, strawberries, peaches, and sliced apples, carefully shaped like playful bunnies, all awaited their indulgence. The selection was complemented by the presence of almonds and walnuts, as well as small sandwiches thoughtfully prepared by the cook.

Meanwhile, L assembled the kite they had brought. The breeze near the creek was perfect for flying a kite—not too strong, but just enough to keep it soaring effortlessly in the boundless blue sky.

Eventually, they settled down on the picnic blanket, and she poured a cup of iced tea for him and another for herself.

"Thanks," said L while savoring the sweetness of two cherries simultaneously. Inhaling deeply, he detected a subtle herbal fragrance that tickled his senses. "I believe I smell something herbal."

"It's the scent of lavender from the nearby fields," she explained, "Lavender is known for its calming and sleep-inducing properties."

L nodded and then pulled out a cherry stem that he had expertly tied into a knot with his tongue.

"Look," he said, holding it up for her to see.

“Let me try, too.” She reached for two cherries still connected by a stem and focused on knotting them. L observed her unwavering determination, her eyes fixed on the task at hand, her cheeks gently moving as her tongue skillfully maneuvered.

“It’s too hard,” she admitted with a touch of playful frustration, relinquishing the seed and stem.

L chuckled softly, his amusem*nt evident. "It's a skill that takes practice.”

He scanned the food before him, noticing the lack of sweets, and decided to reach for the skewer.

"I thought you wouldn't go for those," she observed, watching him bite off the cranberry, cheese, and olive, and remove the toothpick.

"I do prefer sweets, but it doesn't mean I don't eat other things," he replied, his voice muffled by the food in his mouth.

Savory dishes.

When was the last time he willingly ate anything that wasn't sweet?

Apart from occasions when Watari insisted, another time was when she asked if he was willing to give it a try. Cheese was one of the foods he had tried upon her suggestion, and he would oblige by sharing his thoughts on the taste. Olives were another option, along with Japanese coated peanut crackers she had purchased from an imported Japanese food store.

During their childhood, they would dine together with other children at the Wammy's House restaurant, a result of Watari's insistence. He would reluctantly try the meals prepared by the cook, even though he didn't have a strong desire for them. On days when Meredith couldn't join him for meals due to music competitions or other activities, he would often choose to skip the meal altogether.

Reflecting on this, he found it rather unusual that most of his memories related to savory dishes were linked to the girl sitting before him, as he observed her nibbling on a piece of apple.

L's thoughts were interrupted when Meredith asked, "What's on your mind?"

"Oh, nothing," replied L, his attention returning to the skewers. "The skewers—they taste good."

"That's great," she said, taking one for herself. "I made them."

"I see. It's quite apparent that as long as it doesn't involve baking, you might actually manage to succeed in the realm of cooking," he smirked, teasingly.

A playful annoyance evident in Meredith’s eyes, but she didn't deny his remark, “There’re plenty of other food that need not to bake, I’ll survive without the skill of baking.”

They lay down on the blanket, their eyes focused on the kite soaring in the sky. Above them, clouds drifted lazily, resembling puffs of cotton, while the vibrant red of the kite stood out against the blue expanse. With care, they had securely fastened its reels to the ground using a rock they had found, ensuring the kite's flight remained steady and unwavering. Its tail danced gracefully in the wind, further enhancing the already picturesque scene.

Current time, Saturday afternoon. L and Watari will leave tomorrow morning.

The time they had spent together felt insufficient for her, especially when compared to the days they used to spend together every day. Reflecting on the weekend, she recalled the activities they had engaged in. On Friday evening, she had watched movies with L and played chess together. She had also taken the opportunity to chat with Watari, updating him on her progress in school and university courses before going to bed.

Saying goodbye always seemed to come too soon. In truth, as she stood beside Roger, watching L and Watari depart, a sense of disappointment washed over her each time. She had to fight the urge to chase after the car as it drove away from Wammy's, the desire to keep them close just a little longer. Naturally, she never revealed these emotions outwardly, opting to let them simmer quietly within her.

Her gaze fixated at the red kite flying in the clear sky, "We're like kites," she mused.

Curious, L turned to her and asked, "How so?"

Meredith's gaze remained fixed on the kite soaring through the sky. "If the kite were without the string that anchors it, it would lose its steady flight. It might ascend higher, carried away by the whims of the wind, but ultimately, it would drift aimlessly until gravity pulls it back to the ground, causing it to crash."

L observed the kite above them, a hint of amusem*nt in his voice as he remarked, "I never knew you had such a poetic soul."

She met his gaze with earnestness. "Hey, I'm sharing my genuine feelings with you."

"Alright, alright."

With the sounds of the nearby creek and the gentle babbling of the water, he closed his eyes and took a moment to ponder her words.

"But a kite can't fly well if the wind is too strong, even when anchored," he remarked, opening his eyes.

"As long as the kite is attached to the string that anchors it, there is a possibility to start again and fly like before. Without the string, it will never have a chance to fly again."

It was undeniably reasonable. Without the stability and structure that Wammy's House provided, along with the profound bond they shared, he too would have been lost, adrift on the unforgiving streets, much like his life before. While he could imagine the possibility of becoming an entirely different person, it was a realm of thought he deemed unnecessary to explore.

He thought that this moment might provide an opportunity for her to reveal more about herself. Shifting his focus back to Meredith, L asked, "So, if you were a kite without the string that anchors you, drifting freely in the open air, what form would you take?"

She took a moment to think about her answer, “I think I would become a person that you will be going after in a case."

"Is it truly that dire?" he chuckled, finding the notion both amusing and endearing. The idea of Meredith, with her gentle smile and reserved nature, embodying the role of a cunning criminal seemed unfathomable.

"Yeah."

Oh. So she is serious.

"Well, in that case, I suppose I would join you in the same pursuit."

In many ways, he already embodied that pursuit, navigating the shadows, employing deception, stealth, and even violence when necessary in his past and applied similar tactics when he was unraveling cases that constituted most of his current life. For now, he wished to shield her from that side of himself, but couldn't ignore its undeniable presence.

Meredith's voice took on a somber tone as she shared another possibility. "There's another outcome if I were to have no strings at all."

He turned and lay on his side, his gaze fixating on her, "What is it?"

The rustling of leaves and the gentle breeze, carrying the scent of nearby lavender, made her mumble almost inaudibly. However, L managed to hear her words, "Like a kite without its string attached and the wind to guide it, I would likely perish at a young age, crashing to the ground."

Silence enveloped them—a moment of stillness amidst the tranquil surroundings—only the gentle rustling of leaves carried by the wind remained.

These moments of vulnerability were like little hints and clues that emerged once in a while, though quite few throughout their days. Some were too subtle for L to notice in the moment, only recognized in hindsight, and they resonated with a gravity he hadn't anticipated. The atmosphere between them reminded him of the day she collapsed, and like that day, he remained unsure of its true nature. She had never spoken of it, and he lacked the grounds to inquire directly.

He was aware that both of them were individuals granted a second chance at life, taken in by Watari due to their exceptional talent and intelligence. It felt as if they were meant to blaze their flames brightly, to live intensely in this existence, and to contribute to the society and world that Watari envisioned, even if it meant a shorter lifespan. However, he chose not to delve too deeply into that idea, as he was more inclined to focus on the present.

Nevertheless, L struggled to find the right response, searching for words that could convey his emotions and provide comfort.

After a pause, he managed to say, "It's good to have you around."

A tender smile graced Meredith's lips, "That's nice of you to say, L."

She glanced at the time and remarked, "We should start heading back." She patted her pocket to ensure the bike lock key was still there.

"Looking for this?" L chimed in, waving the key with a mischievous smirk.

"When did you...?"

She made an attempt to grab the key, but L held them high, just out of her reach.

"It's still early," L teased, a playful smile on his face as he observed her jumping in a futile attempt to snatch the key. "Let's stay a little longer."

Giving him a mock frown, Meredith reluctantly relented. L returned the key to her, and she sighed, "Alright, but only for another 30 minutes. Watari is expecting us to return before supper."

Wammy's House, Sunday, AM 5:00.

They stood at the entrance of Wammy's House, with Watari standing beside a sleek black car, his hands holding the box that had once contained the cellphone L had just taken out.

"Take this," L gently placed the cellphone in Meredith's hands, and she looked at L in astonishment, her mind racing with questions about the purpose of this unexpected gesture.

"I won't be coming back that often anymore," he stated, "Watari has already inserted our contact information into the phone. We will use it to notify you when we plan to return. I promise to keep you updated."

"Is - is this appropriate?" Meredith's glance shifted to Watari, seeking confirmation. Having a personal cellphone that allowed her to directly contact L and Watari seemed to violate the confidentiality policy of the orphanage, posing a risk not only to the three of them but potentially to all the members of Wammy's House.

Watari nodded reassuringly and added, "Text messages will be our preferred means of communication, my dear. I have informed Roger that you will have access to us."

She slowly nodded, and turned her attention back to L, "When do you think you'll be able to come back? Do you have any idea?"

L's eyes flickered, "Honestly, I don't have a definitive answer," he admitted. "Most of our current cases are international, requiring us to travel to the crime scene to access the necessary domain and internet infrastructure. These tasks cannot be managed remotely from England. We will be traveling frequently, which makes it difficult to determine when we'll return. However, I promise to keep you informed of our whereabouts and plans."

It wasn't a concrete promise, but it was better than nothing.

Meredith tightly held the cellphone in her hands and nodded.

"Take the box, Meri. The manual is inside, and I'm sure you will be able to fully understand how to use the device," Watari handed her the box. She embraced the man, and Watari gently patted her back.

When she pulled away, she fixed her gaze upon L for a brief moment.

Taking a step forward, breaking the norm of their departure, she also hugged L, causing him to freeze in place due to her sudden action.

He caught a whiff of lavender as he noticed the fragrance emanating from her hair.

"Wishing you both a safe journey," she whispered softly.

Chapter 12: Puzzlement

Chapter Text

Dear L,

How's the piloting lessons going? I wish I could fly a heli, too.

-Meri

Meri,

You can figure it out through intuition. Just kidding, I'll take you on flights after my training is done.

-L

"Meri-chan, did you know? Watari has selected another boy as L’s successor," said Kimiko.

Meredith glanced at the older teen sitting beside her, their hands busy peeling potato peels for the mashed potatoes that would be part of tonight's dinner. They were seated in the dining room, which was located adjacent to the kitchen. The menu for the evening included mashed potatoes, German pork knuckles with Sauerkraut, and bread.

"Another one?"

"Yes, didn't you know? I thought Watari would have told you since you're his favorite," smirked Kimiko.

Kujo Kimiko, who was also Japanese and two years older than Meredith, was already involved in Watari's assignments. She didn't care much about the true name and alias policy and eventually shared her true name with Meredith, stating, “I prefer my true name over the alias.”

"Don't say that, Kimiko-san," replied Meredith, redirecting her focus back to the potatoes, while Kimiko teasingly said, “Fine, fine, Meri-chan.”

Meredith didn't find it enjoyable to be referred to as Watari's favorite, and she didn't want to attract attention. While she knew that being close to Watari and L allowed her the opportunity to develop a close relationship with both of them, she didn't want to be perceived as taking advantage of or receiving special privileges from the man who ran the orphanage.

"Do you know why Watari chose another boy as L's successor?" Meredith asked. She was aware that there was already one successor in place, but she didn't have much information beyond the fact that it was also a boy. Most of her time was occupied by studies and music competitions, leaving her with little opportunity to interact with other children in the institution. It was only when researching in the library that she met Kimiko, who was reading scientific papers in Japanese, discovering their common Japanese heritage, which led to their friendship.

So why did Watari feel the need to select another successor? Was there a specific concern that prompted his decision?

"I've heard that the selected boy resembles L," Kimiko replied, tossing a peeled potato into the pot with the others. "But no one knows what L looks like, Watari just picked him without providing much reason."

Meredith peeled another potato, contemplating the situation. She knew she might be the only one familiar with L's appearance, so why did Watari choose a boy who resembled him? It puzzled her.

"I don't fully understand the whole successor policy that Watari announced," she said, her gaze shifting to the potato in her hands. Its surface bore angles and cuts from her peeling and flicking out the eyes. "Let geniuses be geniuses in their own talent and field. Everyone knows of L's success, but not everyone can be L."

"Watari made it clear that L needed a successor in case anything happened to him," Kimiko explained. "It's good that neither you nor I are in line for that position. From what I've heard, Watari wants to train a successor who can mimic L's gestures, solving style, quirks, and even his tone."

Meredith frowned, trying to grasp the reasoning behind it. "But is that really necessary?"

Kimiko shrugged. "If anything happens to L, the successor can seamlessly continue his work without any authorities noticing a difference between the original L and the new one."

Meredith didn't like this reasoning; it felt as though L could be replaced by anyone else, or that the person being groomed as the next L was having their individuality and uniqueness stripped away. However, for now, she could only assume that Watari was acting in L's best interest.

"In that case, does Watari show the successors what L looks like?" She had never heard L mention anything about the successors or being involved in a mentoring role.

"No, the successors do not know how L looked. It's part of the privacy that L wanted. Watari only provides instructions without revealing L's appearance," Kimiko explained.

Meredith mumbled her agreement, understanding that it was expected for Watari to prioritize L's privacy. As she thought about it, she realized she hadn't received any updates or photos of their current whereabouts or activities. In fact, she hadn't heard from them in a while. The last message she received was from Watari, mentioning their return on Friday. It had been two months since she last saw the two of them.

"Sorry, what did you say?" Kimiko asked.

"Oh, nothing," Meredith replied. "I was just thinking that it would be difficult for the boys to mimic L without any reference."

His tone, appearance, the dark shadows under his eyes, untidy hair, plain attire, quirky habits of slouching and playing with food, constant crouching... L was so eccentric that it would be challenging for any ordinary person to imitate him.

"Look, Meri," he said, forming a gun shape with his fingers and then twisting his hands to form an 'L.'

As she reminisced about L, a tingling feeling emerged, accompanied by warm sensations that compelled her to form a small smile. The memories of his playful gesture brought forth a soft chuckle, but she quickly composed herself, ensuring that Kimiko didn't notice her amusem*nt.

"How did you come to know about all this?" Meredith inquired.

"F told me. He heard from people who are close to the successors, and he was also quite concerned. He wanted me to suggest an adjustment to the policy to Watari, as he himself is operating overseas," Kimiko answered. "But F didn't tell me exactly who they are. The successors receive private training sessions."

F, a notable graduate student from Wammy's House, was older than Meredith and had recently received an alphabet code name from Watari. Recognizing his exceptional talent, Watari had trained him in espionage during his earlier years. F had since become an integral part of Watari's team, actively carrying out assignments for the Wammy's Organization.

There were 26 alphabet letters assigned as code names for each generation of notable Wammy House graduates. L had chosen one, obviously L, and Watari had adopted W, while Roger used R. The identities behind the other letters remained a mystery to the undergraduates. Only when one became a notable graduate, entrusted with assignments from Watari and granted access to the Wammy Organization's system, would they discover which code names had been taken. Individuals behind those code names remained unknown unless they revealed to others, like F revealing his to Kimiko.

As Meredith continued peeling the potato in her hands, her thoughts lingered on the successor policy. Something about it didn't sit right with her. Her memories of being molded into someone's expectations weren't happy ones, and she couldn't understand the rationale behind Watari's decision. However, she didn't feel grounded enough to question it either.

Shifting the conversation, Meredith tried to redirect her focus. "Kimiko-san, what is your current assignment from Watari?"

Kimiko smiled, pleased that Meredith was showing interest. "I thought you weren't interested. We've detected a potential terrorist plot, and currently, we're monitoring closely for any developments and waiting for the right timing to take action. Once I complete it, I will officially receive a code name from Watari. Roger informed me that Watari will come back to Wammy's House to host the code name granting ceremony. By that, I’ll be more grounded to ask Watari about the adjustment on the policy."

Every student at Wammy House understood that receiving a code name was a significant achievement. It signified affirmation by the institution as a notable graduate, as someone worthy of the trust placed upon them by the man who had taken them in.

"That's great, Kimiko-san," replied Meredith. She admired Kimiko's abilities and dedication, but couldn't help feeling inadequate in comparison. While she yearned to contribute to Watari's assignments, she knew her musical talent alone was insufficient. She needed to enhance her own skills, to become more valuable to Watari, to get closer to L. Unlike Kimiko, who excelled in science, or F, who possessed exceptional espionage and physical prowess, Meredith felt out of place under the current successor policy, or even her capability to carry out Watari's assignments and make a significant impact in the same way L could, with his unparalleled talent in every field that had the power to change the world.

Just then, the cook approached them, interrupting their conversation. "Girls, how's everything going? You've made excellent progress.” He took a glimpse of the peeled potatoes in the pot, seemly satisfied.

“By the way, have you seen the strawberry jam I made back in June? I can only find one jar now, and it won't be enough to spread on the scones I prepared for the after-meal dessert."

He leaned back on his chair.

L was exhausted from the latest meeting, communicating with the British National Crime Agency (NCA). He had not anticipated encountering difficulties in collaboration with the British NCA, considering that many of his previous cases had originated in England. However, it was clear that the current team he was working with was unfamiliar with his style of deduction.

Drug trafficking. It wasn't a complicated case, but the effort he had to exert in explaining his deductions was the most challenging aspect when communicating with the current investigation body. He possessed all the evidence and reasons necessary to conclude that the suspect would engage in another deal at 4:00 a.m. on Monday. However, the police remained unconvinced and continued to present alternative evidence pointing to a different timing.

Although feeling annoyed and irritated, there was something else that he was more concerned about.

An unexpected intrusion disrupted his concentration.

“L, your deductions are on point, but ordinary people might not be able to keep up with your speed. You have to slow down for them and give them some time to understand.”

As if transported from another realm into the realm of his thoughts.

He remembered Meredith smiling while making the remark. It was familiar, the same smile that he had seen over the passing years when they were in Wammy's House. He should have grown accustomed to it, and there should be nothing special about it popping up in this instance. But he was nonetheless surprised by the intrusion of her figure into his mind.

It certainly confused him.

Why?

Why? He recollected the earlier incident, his thoughts quickly returning to the case, unaffected by the brief interruption. However, upon further reflection, he couldn't ignore the unusual nature of her intrusion into his focused mind. It wasn't that he never thought of her during normal days - occasional thoughts naturally arose since he had been living elsewhere with Watari. Initially, he anticipated that the person entering his new room would be Watari and another familiar individual, but that anticipation had gradually diminished over time.

After all, it had been a whole year since they moved to their new location.

He felt nothing but puzzlement. Perhaps it was because of her, breaking the norm of departure by hugging him before they left Wammy’s House last time. It seemed that her actions had affected his mind, making him feel out of character.

Yes, that must be it.

He certainly wanted Meredith to pay for distracting him in the midst of his cases. Next time, he should come up with a different way to tease her.

"I've got to make you pay for that, Meri," L mumbled to himself as he mechanically lifted his tea. With a nudge from his bare feet, his chair spun as he pondered what he should tease her about the next time he saw her.

The dimly lit room was broken by a ray of light as Watari entered, collecting the leftovers and dirty plates. "It seems that your meeting with the NCA ended earlier than scheduled," Watari remarked.

L's gaze shifted to Watari, his expression inscrutable. "The conclusion could have been reached more quickly if I hadn't needed to re-explain the rationale behind Monday instead of Tuesday," he responded curtly. Taking a sip of his tea, he refocused his attention on the papers scattered across his desk, lost in contemplation.

Watari nodded, checking his watch to confirm the time. It read 15:30. "We have a scheduled return to the House, L. Meri finishes school at 16:00, so if we leave now, you'll be able to pick her up just in time."

"Aren't you going to pick her up?" he asked, his focus shifting from the papers to Watari. Typically, it was Watari who would drive and retrieve Meri from her Japanese high school when they returned to Wammy. L would usually remain in his room, patiently waiting or indulging in dessert.

Watari smiled warmly in response to L's question. "It would be a nice opportunity for some fresh air and exercise, L," he suggested. "I could drop you off halfway along her school route. You're familiar with the location, and I'm sure she would be delighted to see you picking her up."

L grumbled inwardly. It wasn't that he didn't want to see Meredith; on the contrary, he cherished their time together. However, the thought of picking her up at school brought forth a wave of discomfort. The last time they both picked her up, Watari had assumed the role of chauffeur. Meredith would enter the car with L already seated, and they would return to Wammy's House together. It had been much easier for L, as he could avoid the crowds, commotion, and chatter of the students by simply sitting in the back of the car. He had always preferred observing from a distance rather than actively engaging in such chaotic situations, particularly in a school setting during post-school hours.

But time with her was already scarce, and he could use some fresh air.

"Fine," he answered, and followed Watari to the exit.

L hopped off from the car and watched as Watari drove off in the opposite direction, heading toward Wammy's House. The warm Friday air enveloped him, a gentle reminder of the changing seasons. Sometimes, amidst his work and investigations, he would momentarily forget the passage of time, only to be reminded of the current month and its corresponding season when he returned to Wammy's House.

Each passing year seemed to bring even hotter temperatures, although he still found comfort in his usual attire of a long-sleeved white shirt and baggy jeans. The heat was becoming increasingly intense with time.

"Global warming," he murmured, acknowledging the issue. Some of the projects Watari had assigned to other graduates dealt with such matters, but he doubted that it was an obstacle that could be easily overcome in the short term, particularly considering the authorities' attitude toward the issue.

L reached into his pocket and pulled out a chocolate bar, chipping off a piece and savoring the bittersweet taste, while he walked with a slight shuffle, his sneakers grazing the ground.

One high school girl in uniform.

Two high school boys in uniform.

Three high school students in uniform.

More and more students appeared, dressed in the distinctive school uniforms and carrying black shoulder bags, all attending the same Japanese high school as Meredith. L considered there were too many people around him, and he couldn't help but notice the contrast between his own detachment and limitations and Meredith's capability of being around with people.

He vividly remembered her confident performances in front of large audiences during music competitions. Her talent shone brightly as she effortlessly surpassed her competitors, leaving both judges and spectators impressed. Time and time again, she emerged as the clear victor, securing a landslide victory in every competition she participated in. When it came to her musical talent, L could only describe her as fearless.

Her reserved and calm demeanor seemed unwavering when he returned to Wammy's House and met her, in contrast to the constant changes that surrounded L. He found it rather amusing, considering that his work required him to adapt and grasp even the slightest shifts in order to solve cases. It was these subtle changes that often held the key to cracking the mysteries he encountered. However, not many subtle changes were seen from Meredith, at least to L’s knowledge.

Finally arriving at the Japanese high school, L observed the lively atmosphere around him. Students chatted animatedly in Japanese, their words filling the air. His knowledge in the language allowed him to comprehend their conversations effortlessly, but it also proved slightly irritating and overwhelming.

“Watari should have come and picked Meri up,” he muttered while taking in too much information in his surroundings. Amidst the sea of conversations, his focus remained on finding Meredith. He scanned the crowd, searching for her familiar presence. As he made his way through the sea of students, he felt out of place among the hustle and bustle.

Eventually, he made the decision to stand right in the middle of the open school gates, his hands tucked into his jeans pockets, and his gaze fixed upon the front stairs of the building ahead.

Suppose she would see me here.

In doing so, he became an obstruction to every student attempting to pass by. As students maneuvered around him, their curious eyes fell upon the teenager with jet-black disheveled hair, and his owl-like gaze remained unwavering, fixed ahead.

It wasn't long before L noticed the familiar person emerging from the school building, surrounded by her classmates.

Her hair was tied in a ponytail, which was a rare sight for L as she usually let her hair down in a more casual style at Wammy's House. Inside, he admitted to himself that he actually preferred it when she let her hair down. However, he understood that tying her hair up was practical while studying, as he had noticed her tucking it behind her ear even when it still fell loosely while they read together in his room. She also tended to wear plain clothes while at Wammy's House. It wasn't that L hadn't seen Meredith in her school uniform before, but when she stood beside the other girls in the school, it was a different sight altogether. Unlike the other girls, who radiated excitement for the upcoming weekend and eagerly anticipated the break, their emotions impossible to hide, Meredith seemed to have toned down her expressions. Her reserved and calm nature remained intact, even amidst the vibrant atmosphere of her peers.

The demeanor was still the same, but all together, it was different, making L compelled to retract his previous statement about her never changing.

As the radiant sunshine beamed directly onto her face, Meredith instinctively narrowed her eyes, her delicate features scrunching slightly in response. She raised her hands slightly, positioning them strategically to create a makeshift barrier against the sun's rays, casting a play of light and shadow on her face.

One of Meredith's classmates chimed in, also seeking respite from the intense rays. "Oh wow, it's so sunny today," the classmate remarked, her own hands trying to obscure the blinding light. "Hey, I saw my dad's car! See you, Meri-chan!"

Meredith offered a wave of goodbye, her attention divided between the departing classmate and her decision to wait for the crowd to disperse before entering the entrance. She contemplated whether it would be better to wait for a quieter moment, when the entrance would be less crowded and chaotic.

After a passing cloud obscured the sun, the blinding light subsided, and Meredith's vision cleared. As her eyes adjusted, she noticed someone standing in the middle of the gates. It was L, seemingly frozen in place like a statue, his gaze locked onto her.

He appeared doll-like.

The thought brought a chuckle to her lips, but his unmistakable presence made it evident that he was more than just a doll.

She was about to step forward and head toward L, but a sudden force pulled her back.

"Hey, Meri-chan, you haven't answered me yet."

L noticed it too. It was a guy who had been interjecting while Meredith was conversing with other girls, which L found quite annoying.

This guy embodied coolness, and even in his school uniform, one could observe the meticulousness of his appearance. His shirts were flawlessly clean and perfectly ironed, hinting that he may have entrusted his laundry to professionals. A silver necklace adorned his neck, complementing the sharpness of his features, while black earrings added to his stylish ensemble. While most students attending a Japanese high school in England came from well-off families with business ties to Europe, this guy went the extra mile to flaunt his family's wealth, evident in the superior quality of his uniforms and fine leather shoes. With a casual single-handed grab of his school bag, he effortlessly slung it behind his back, radiating an air of self-assuredness that made him undeniably stand out in the crowd.

A person that was totally different from L. Despite this, Meredith continued to respond to him politely.

"Takashi-kun, let me think about it. I'll give you a reply the next time I go to school."

"But you're hardly ever at school. Come on, it'll be so much fun. If you agree to come with us, I can give you free tickets. I need a definite answer now."

"Takashi-kun, I need to ask first – ”

"What's the matter? Are your parents strict? I can make a call for you, you know."

“No, I don't think it's necessary – ” She wanted to get close to L, “Takashi-kun, I have to go.”

She couldn’t care less about Takashi, and hurriedly made her way toward L, with Takashi following behind. L felt relieved that he didn't have to navigate through the crowd to reach her. He remained silent as he continued to observe the situation.

“Have you come to pick me up?” She asked, beaming at L.

“Yes, Father is busy today,” L replied, pretending that Watari was their father.

Takashi caught up to Meredith and asked, "So, Meri-chan, what's your response? Are you going with me?"

He then noticed L and gave him a once-over. "And who might you be? Her brother?"

L remained silent; his gaze fixed on Takashi with a neutral expression.

Before Meredith could answer, L took her hand. "Meri, we're late. Let's get going," he said firmly, pulling her away from Takashi.

"See you then, Takashi-kun. I’ll tell you my answer next week," she called out while being dragged away by L.

He didn't appreciate the way Takashi was speaking to her. It was evidently impolite, and although he acknowledged that he himself could be rude at times, he believed that given her hesitance in responding, Takashi's demeanor was not fitting. There was no need to prolong the conversation any further. L tightened his grip on her wrist and increased their pace, pulling her along in a brisk walk that bordered on a run.

"What was that all about?" Meredith asked once they had put a safe distance between themselves and the others, still struggling to keep up with L's rapid pace.

"He appeared quite self-absorbed and preoccupied with his own appearance. He frequently interrupted you and seemed more intent on talking about his offer than actively listening to your words," L replied coolly, his eyes forward, but gradually slowing down his pace for her.

"Moreover, his impeccable grooming and fashionable attire suggest that he puts a considerable amount of effort into presenting a particular image of himself."

"Takashi-kun is just a guy that doesn't know the limits," Meredith shrugged.

"I can confidently conclude that he is a narcissist."

Meredith halted her footsteps, "Takashi-kun asked me out. He asked whether I wanted to go to the amusem*nt park with him and other classmates."

L looked back at her and asked in his monotone, "You're going on a date with him?"

"It's not a date, I'm just being polite. We're planning to go to the amusem*nt park next weekend. I don't want to stand out from my classmates," explained Meredith, considering her already unique situation of taking courses outside of high school.

It never occurred to him that she would go out with someone other than him. Wait, why wouldn't there be a possibility of her going out with other people? Of course, it was perfectly normal for her to spend time with others. But now that he thought about it, he realized that most of her outdoor activities involved Watari... and him, or so he assumed. Often, it was she who initiated their involvement in these activities.

Perhaps this time, L pondered, he should actively participate in her activities more.

L was silent for a moment before staring in her eye, suggesting, "If you wanted to go on a date with him, why don't we all go to the amusem*nt park together?"

"It's not a date, L!" she exclaimed swiftly, swinging her school bag at him, but he deftly dodged it, grinning mischievously, and they playfully chased each other as they headed back to Wammy's House.

Chapter 13: Amusem*nt Park

Chapter Text

Dear Meri,

I will pick you up at 9:00 on Saturday.

-Watari

August.

Sunlight bathed Wammy’s House, casting a golden glow on its walls. The orphanage hummed with activity as the familiar sounds of children laughing and chattering echoed from behind its closed doors. However, on this particular day, Meredith stood alone at the entrance of Wammy's House, aware that she would not be partaking in the usual activities that day.

Meredith waited patiently at the entrance of Wammy’s House. It was soon before her attention was caught by the sight of the arrival of a vintage classic black Jaguar driving close, coming to a smooth halt before her.

She reached out for the car door, “Watari, thank you for picking me up – ”

But her voice trailed off as she swung open the door. She froze with astonishment as she saw the person seated in the back seat of the sleek black car.

It can’t be -

L turned his head toward her, his gaze fixed upon her with his wide, intense black eyes. He played with the lollipop in his mouth, the stick constantly moving playfully around his lips.

“Hello there, Meri,” L greeted her in his usual plain and enigmatic voice, pulling out the lollipop, his presence filling the vehicle.

“What are you doing here, L?!”

“I told you, we’re going on a date with Takashi-kun, if that's what you want to call it –”

"It's not a date, L. It's just classmates having fun at the amusem*nt park for a day."

“Meri, please close the door,” Watari reminded her through the rearview mirror.

“Sorry, Watari,” she entered the car, swiftly closed the door behind her, and fastened her seat belt. Her focus remained on L, who was still savoring the candy. “I thought you were just making fun of me.”

“A promise is a promise, I have always been very faithful, you know that,” replied L while still staring intently at her.

"I had no idea that was a promise," Meredith mumbled, still trying to process the situation, “What about assignments and cases? I thought you said you could only come back to Wammy's once a month or so.”

“I managed.”

“You managed?”

L nodded in affirmation. What he didn't tell her was that he had, in fact, sent everything he had to the current corporate investigation bodies for that day. He informed them that he had something “urgent” to attend to and provided them with all the necessary information they needed, trusting that they would be able to handle the task if they carefully read the instructions in the email. L had even taken the time to add extra detailed instructions, ensuring that he didn't repeat the situation he encountered with the British NCA. As a result, he hadn't slept for over 60 hours, determined to prevent any mishaps or complications.

"It's rare that you want to come with me, especially activities that involve someone else."

"Then let's make this the start of a new norm, Meri."

"Huh?"

"Never mind," L looked away and focused on the view outside, unsure why he had just said that.

She was standing at the entrance of the amusem*nt park, facing him. Vibrant colors adorned the booths in the background. The charming combination of pastel hues, including mint green, cotton candy pink, and baby blue, painted a whimsical scene.

He caught a glimpse of the towering Ferris wheel against the sky, its impressive structure reaching for the heavens. The roller coaster tracks snaked through the blue skies, promising thrilling twists and turns, while another unknown ride loomed in the background, adding to the air of anticipation.

He noticed Meredith sighing.

“You always don’t bring money with you when you go out."

L nonchalantly shrugged, "I don't consider money to be a significant aspect of life."

"It becomes important when you're outdoors and want to enjoy the amusem*nt park, L."

Meredith turned and made her way towards the ticket booth, her mind still grappling with the disbelief of L actually accompanying her to the amusem*nt park. While they were in the car, she had been skeptical, half-expecting him to playfully tease her at the last moment, saying, "Have a nice day!" before driving off with Watari. However, to her surprise, he stepped out of the car, bidding farewell to Watari, and joined her at the ticket booth.

“Here’s your ticket. Have a nice day.”

It was fortunate that she was allowed to keep her own allowance from bonuses earned through music competitions and composition assignments. Although she often donated most of the checks back to the orphanage, she still had enough to meet her daily needs, choose her own attire, and participate in activities with her classmates.

She turned for L, and saw his attention was completely absorbed by the park map he had somehow acquired. Meredith was still thinking about how to introduce L to her classmate, when she heard someone shrieking her name.

“Meeerrrrrrrriiiiiiiiii~~~Over here!”

Meredith followed the voice, and saw her classmates waving at her on the other side. They had already entered the park.

“Come on, L,” Meredith grabbed his hand and led him into the park. L took a glimpse from his map, counting the classmates. It was only he and Takashi were boys, all the other were girls.

He looked at his surroundings while he was being tugged by Meredith.

Music could be heard coming from all directions, as groups of friends and families walked by, discussing where to go and what ride to try next. Children carried colorful balloons while parents holding their hands, and couples walked hand in hand. The sights and sounds of rides of all shapes and sizes, flashing lights, and the sounds of laughter and screams. The sweet aroma of cotton candy, popcorn, and other treats filled the air, exuding joy and excitement. Stalls selling souvenirs and carnival games with prizes enticed visitors.

"Meri, we've just decided to go to the roller coaster as our first stop - " they said, pausing when they noticed the teenager standing beside Meredith. He had messy, bed-lock hair and was hunched over with dark shadows under his eyes.

"Ah, that's great! Let's go there immediately before the line gets too long, shall we?" Meredith quickly intervened, and her classmates reacted, forming a pack as they headed towards the roller coaster.

The roller coaster was one of the most popular rides in the amusem*nt park, and they knew that if they waited past noon, the queues would become unbearable. While her classmates casually bantered about which place to visit later, they couldn't help but sneak glimpses at the strange teen who was following behind Meredith, his hands tucked in his pockets. However, they considered it too rude to ask her about his identity in front of him. Takashi, in particular, was annoyed as he hadn't expected the teen who had dragged Meredith away from him a week ago to come along.

"Meri-chan, is that your friend?" whispered Tanaka, one of her classmates, finally asking while they waited in line for the roller coaster. L stood behind Meredith in line with them.

"...Yes, he's a friend from my neighborhood. I invited him to come along."

"Your friend's style... it's really unique."

Meredith stole a glimpse at L and noticed his typical attire of baggy pants and a white shirt, although the shirt appeared slightly more crisp and ironed than usual. His hair, while still somewhat unkempt, seemed to have been combed to some extent. As for his shoes, she doubted he was wearing socks, as he disliked socks from a young age, claiming that it was unnecessary to wear them if you could wear shoes directly. However, his sneaker laces were neatly tied, unlike his usual preference of leaving them untied. She often had to remind him that he might trip due to this habit, but he always insisted that he was more cautious than she thought.

Today he appeared less chaotic than usual.

"He’s always like this. Don’t worry, he's a nice guy."

"How should I address him?" Tanaka asked, still looking at L.

Meredith nudged L and mouthed, "Name."

"Asahi," L responded, still observing Takashi, who stood behind him chatting with two girls. Takashi was clearly in a bad mood as he had intended to ask Meredith out but was instead approached by the two girls. He couldn't express his annoyance due to their presence.

"Another alias?" Meredith whispered.

"I just made it up randomly," he whispered back, making her chuckle.

As they waited in line, screams and yells from the rides were in the air, making the crowd in excitement and anxiety. Meredith seemed not affected, but she still looked back at L, checking on him.

"Are you nervous? Don't push yourself too much and don't feel obligated to try out all the rides."

"I'm not," L replied in his usual monotone voice. "It's all rather new to me, and I find it fascinating how people can be so creative in designing entertainment facilities."

They went on roller coasters, and Meredith watched as L settled beside her, his legs stubbornly maintaining their usual position despite the staff's strong suggestions. His raven black hair flying in the wind, while maintaining a calm expression with his index finger held between his lips. While everyone else shrieked in excitement and thrill, the two seemed unaffected and calm. Yet, L noticed a gentle smile spreading across her face, indicating her unspoken delight. The ride spun, dived, making them feel the sinking feeling in their internal organs from all that turning and diving.

After they got off, the pack chatted while they headed to the next ride.

“I heard you will participate in the school’s choir competition,” Tanaka asked, “How did you manage to participate in the competition and your studies outside the school?”

“It’s just for a day, and I’m just accompanying for the classes that do not have a pianist. As for our class, I’ll be accompanying, too.”

“I’m so envious of your talent, Meri. Even you are seldom at school, many people still know that we have a pro for accompanying for school anthem, music competitions, and special occasions that needed piano accompanying.”

“It’s the least that I could do for the school. I couldn’t participate in other activities, and I don’t take classes with you guys.”

Overhearing Meredith and Tanaka’s conversation, L noticed how isolated she seemed from her classmates. The way she interacted with others conveyed a different atmosphere than what L had known of her. Growing up together, he had always remembered her as a reserved but smiling girl. The person in front of him appeared even more distant than he had anticipated. It occurred to L that perhaps this was simply how she was—keeping a certain distance from others while still maintaining politeness and social interaction.

Then, a fleeting thought crossed his mind—that maybe what he had always considered as her true self was actually the hidden side. But he quickly dismissed the idea, shaking it away.

Takashi had always been successful with girls.

He had a keen sense of fashion, wealth, and the ability to sweep girls off their feet. His track record boasted a long list of successful dates, but there was something about her that set her apart.

She never had an interest in him. Not even one glimpse. This came as a surprise to Takashi, as he was accustomed to being the center of attention among boys and girls. With excellent grades and a handsome appearance, he was used to eyes lingering on him. He had not anticipated her complete disregard for his presence. She maintained a polite demeanor, never showing even a hint of a blush in his presence.

The quiet girl who only attended class twice a week was slightly younger than her peers and possessed delicate features that made boys and girls turn their heads in curiosity. However, her elusive nature kept them from truly getting to know her. She was known as the regular pianist for school ceremonies, and her academic achievements exceeded everyone's expectations, even if she did not take classes at school.

There was an enigmatic quality about her that captivated Takashi's attention like never before, presenting him with a challenge. He made a bet with his gang that he would be the one to ask her out on a date to the amusem*nt park. However, to his astonishment, she didn't agree at first. Undeterred, Takashi persisted throughout the day, hoping to change her mind, until she was pulled away by a messy-haired teen who interrupted their conversation, leaving him with no answers. It wasn't until the next week when he encountered her at school that he learned she had eventually agreed to go with him and their other classmates to the amusem*nt park. His hopes were high, and his determination was fueled once again.

Takashi stared at the teen before him. He had expected this trip to the amusem*nt park to be the perfect opportunity to get close to Meredith. However, the teen he encountered on the day he tried to ask Meredith out—his name was supposedly Asahi—seemed to always be in his way.

Whether it was entering the Ferris wheel gondola, where the staff informed them that each gondola could only accommodate four people.

"Then I'll go with Mer—" Takashi began to suggest, but before he could finish, L entered the gondola right after Meredith and sat beside her.

"Sorry, Takashi, Asahi took the last seat. You can take the next gondola," Tanaka replied as the staff closed the door.

Takashi felt annoyance welling up inside him.

And again when they went on the spinning cups.

Asahi (L) leaped into the cup and sat near Meredith before Takashi could. He had a rather strange posture, always crouched, but she seemed not bothered by that.

“Takashi-kun, please take the seat over there,” L pointed out the space across them politely.

Takashi felt annoyed.

And the frustration continued when they went on the Pirate Ship.

"Asahi, why don't we challenge each other in some games?" Takashi suggested, finally reaching his limit. The presence of this uninvited teen had been nothing but an annoyance throughout the trip. Takashi was determined to show him up, to regain his dominance.

"The indoor facilities seem like a good place for some competitive games," Takashi added.

L looked at Takashi and simply replied, "Sure."

Takashi felt a surge of satisfaction. He excelled at indoor games, whether it was claw machines, whack-a-mole, or air hockey.

However, his satisfaction quickly turned to frustration as he watched L skillfully hit every mole with lightning speed, breaking the machine's record, and effortlessly beating him at air hockey.

"Asahi, you're so good at this!" exclaimed one of the girls, while Meredith watched calmly. She didn't know that L had a knack for games, but she was confident that he hated to lose and would find a way to win at the last moment.

Takashi felt even more annoyed.

Finally, after being defeated in every game, they came across a shooting game stall. Takashi's confidence surged once more as he recalled his past experiences with shooting. It was a skill that an ordinary teen wouldn't possess, and he was certain that he could win this challenge.

"Asahi, let's see who can hit more balloons."

L didn't utter a word. Instead, he turned to Meredith, a silent request for money to play a round of the game.

"You two are competing in shooting? I wanted to play too," Meredith said, reaching into her pocket and handing the vendor the required amount of money.

"I won't lose," said L, raising the rifle.

"We'll see about that," smirked Takashi.

The trio positioned themselves in front of the shooting range, their eyes fixated on the row of balloons waiting to be popped. They agreed on the order: Takashi would go first, followed by L, and then Meredith.

Takashi took aim and pulled the trigger, his shots hitting the balloons with precision. As the balloons exploded, a proud smile graced his face.

"Fifteen hits out of twenty, no big deal," Takashi boasted, expecting praise for his marksmanship.

It was now L's turn, and once again, to Takashi's annoyance, the seemingly listless teen revealed a hidden talent for shooting. L's shots struck the balloons effortlessly, each hit resulting in a loud pop from the balloon's explosion.

"Asahi, you're really good. You got seventeen hits," commented Meredith with a smile.

"The distance is rather close, don't you think, Takashi-kun?" L remarked, his tone dripping with condescension. He certainly had a knack for belittling others.

As the turn passed to Meredith, both boys watched in astonishment as she effortlessly scored 18 hits out of 20 shots, surpassing both Takashi and L.

"Here's your prize," the vendor handed her a panda doll.

"It looks like you, L—I mean, Asahi," Meredith remarked with a mischievous grin, handing the panda doll to L, who reluctantly accepted it.

"I don't consider myself to resemble this doll. We are totally different species, and it is obvious that I look nothing like it," L retorted, his grip on the doll highlighting the resemblance between the panda's black eyes and the dark shadows under his own eyes.

Meredith chuckled, "No, you're basically the same, Asahi."

"I never knew that you were good at shooting. Did Watari train you?" L inquired, handing the doll back to Meredith, who promptly passed it on to a little girl standing nearby.

"No, but seeing is learning. Perhaps it's the posture, watching Watari shoot," Meredith explained, waving goodbye to the delighted little girl clutching the panda doll.

Takashi noticed her eyes had a spark when she was talking to Asahi, and it did not appear when he approached her. In fact, counting the times she genuinely smiled, it was always when she was looking at Asahi’s direction and when she was talking to him.

He knew that he did not stand a chance.

They took some time for themselves, and Meredith's classmates wandered off to other rides. It was just the two of them, with L still focused on the map and wandering to the rides he was interested in, while Meredith closely followed him.

She watched L as he went on a swan carnival ride, taking his usual position while swan lake music played in the background. It was a funny scene to see him circling with the ride in a swan. L seemed to not mind being awkward at all, with parents and children stealing glimpses of the teen crouched on the seat of the swan ride.

She observed him riding a mini drop tower made for children, with his hands on the railings and his feet dangling above. Though L seemed calm, he noticed the small girl beside him, bubbling with excitement and joy, as she threw her hands up in the air, completely absorbed in the thrill of the ride. L decided to copy her and the scene Meredith saw was adorable, which made her smile at L. He saw Meredith smiling from the tower and quickly resumed his grip on the railings.

To his surprise, she went straight for him when they rode the bumper cars. She chased him vigorously in the playground, and he quickly realized that he was the main target of her playful assault. As he attempted to counter-attack, he found himself mostly on the receiving end of her energetic attacks. Despite his efforts to fight back, she seemed to have the upper hand, relentlessly pursuing him with her playful aggression.

"Vanilla or chocolate?" asked Meredith, holding out two ice cream cones for L to choose from.

L grinned and replied, "Chocolate." He took the cone from her and settled down on the bench beside her. As they enjoyed their sweet treats, L continued to glance around, taking in the lively atmosphere of the amusem*nt park

“What should we do next? How about the Haunted House?"

"Oh, no. I don't trust you not to punch the staff out of fright," she teasingly responded, taking another slurp of her vanilla ice cream.

She had a smudge of white cream on the tip of her nose, a familiar sight from their childhood days when ice cream had a habit of finding its way there. He found it amusing to see, as it was yet another thing that brought him joy. Despite her generally well-mannered table etiquette and caution, even now in their teens, eating ice cream without some of the dessert on the tip of her nose remained a slight challenge for her.

L reached into his pocket, retrieving a neatly folded handkerchief that Watari stuffed into his pocket whenever he went outdoors, "Don't move.”

“What?”

Without saying a word, L gently wiped the tip of her nose with the handkerchief, "You've always had a little trouble with ice cream."

Meredith gently rubbed her nose, realizing that L had cleaned it for her. She looked away, feeling slightly embarrassed and attempting to suppress the blush that was creeping up her face. She hadn't expected him to wipe it for her, yet it seemed that he was unaware of the significance of his gesture, which only served to make her blush even more. He had always been like this, unaware of whether his actions carried deeper meanings or were simply appropriate in the moment. She should have been accustomed to it by now, but perhaps it was the fact that he had broken the norm of not attending her activities and had come to the amusem*nt park with her that made her feel today was a special day. Alongside that, there was a simmering feeling inside her that she couldn't quite put into words.

She quickly finished her ice cream, trying to cool down those unnecessary thoughts, while L focused on licking his chocolate ice cream.

"It's time for us to leave, Meri," her classmates checked the time and observed the darkening sky, witnessing the sunset casting an orange haze in the clouds. "Did you arrange for someone to pick you and your friend up? Would you like a ride in my father's car?"

"It's fine, Tanaka, thank you," Meredith smiled. "We've already arranged for someone to pick us up."

She waved goodbye to her classmates and turned to L, "Well, I suppose we should head to the exit. Watari said he would pick us up at 18:00."

"But we haven't been on the carousel yet," L said, glancing at the map in his hands with dissatisfaction.

"We can come back for the carousel next time, L. If we go on it now, we won't make it in time for Watari to pick us up."

"We will."

"What do you mean?"

"I called Watari and asked him to pick us up at 19:00."

"When did you...?"

"Just when I realized I wouldn't have enough time for all the rides around 16:00."

"That's quite early."

"Come on, let's go on the carousel."

"Alright - "

Before Meredith could finish, L took her hand, and they ran together toward the merry-go-round.

As the night deepened, the surrounding rides illuminated, casting a warm glow over the bustling amusem*nt park. Matching L's pace, Meredith observed the twinkling lamps and lights surrounding them. The towering Ferris Wheel stood adorned with intricate patterns of sparkling lights, illuminating the night sky.

The carousel possessed captivating magic beneath the night sky. Bathed in a soft, radiant glow emitted by countless twinkling lights, its majestic presence was accentuated. As darkness settled, the carousel came alive, exuding an enchanting aura that captivated all who beheld it. Ornate carousel horses, painted in vibrant hues, appeared to spring to life amidst the moonlit glow. Frozen mid-gallop, their graceful forms created an illusion of movement as they circled the central axis, adorned with intricate details from delicate carvings to sparkling jewels.

Soon, it was their turn to ride. Meredith settled onto a horse behind L. As the carousel spun gently, the horses ascended and descended in perfect harmony, their movements synchronized to create a captivating spectacle. Soft music wafted through the night breeze, adding a whimsical touch to the experience.

Observing L's unchanged posture on the carousel horse, Meredith's attention remained solely captivated by him. The carousel's spinning motion filled the surroundings with an enchanting ambiance, momentarily transporting her from the confines of the amusem*nt park.

No matter how the carousel horses seemed to gallop forward, the distances between them remained fixed, like revolving horses that never quite aligned. It was a long-standing realization. Despite her fervent efforts to bridge the gap, she knew deep down that an insurmountable barrier separated her from L, as if destined to perpetually orbit each other without ever truly touching. Perhaps she had sensed this from the moment she first laid eyes on him, recognizing that L occupied a realm she could never truly reach.

Yet, as her eyes lingered on his back, an intense longing surged within her—a yearning to extend her hand and make the slightest contact. Was this yearning rooted in dependency? She couldn't be certain. All she knew was that L and Watari were the closest people to her in this vast world. What harm could there be in desiring to draw nearer to the people she cherished?

For now, she acknowledged that if the gap reached an extent that could not be shortened, what she could do was to make the best of herself, to discover a position that belonged to her while still maintaining closeness to them.

The lights twinkled and shimmered, creating a festival-like and mesmerizing atmosphere that reflected in L's round eyes. Their soft glow illuminated his face as he observed the celestial ambiance they created, momentarily making him forget that he was in the realm of humans.

It was a nice day.

The rides, the games, even Takashi's presence, although L initially still didn't like him, playing with Meredith's classmates, were fun. He had always thought solving cases was his only desire and thing, but it seemed that he was getting to know himself a bit more from these rides. But when he reminisced about the events, the first picture that came to his mind was always her smiling, and then the other details that he noticed.

So strange, he thought. With every recall, it all started with her smiling, and then he was able to notice other things about the experiences.

It was strange, yet it brought him comfort. It was certainly his first time going to the amusem*nt park, and having someone familiar with him... perhaps that's it. He wanted to have someone familiar with him when he went to unfamiliar places. And she was always the one taking him on adventures, teaching him new things.

The lights seemed to blur his vision, accompanied by the gentle humming melody playing in the background. At that moment, he yearned to share the enchantment with her, or perhaps he was expecting to see her smile imprint his memory for this last ride, to mark a nice ending for this day. He hoped to witness her awe-filled expression.

"Meri - "

As L turned towards her, intending to address her, his gaze met hers, but what he saw in her eyes was unexpected.

Sadness.

In her eyes.

He felt a tug in his chest.

It marked the second occasion in his life where he witnessed such profound sorrow in her inscrutable eyes, leaving him utterly perplexed, unable to decipher its origin or meaning.

Chapter 14: Bunkasai

Chapter Text

Why did she have that sadness in her eyes, even when they were on the carousel?

L couldn't understand why. The day had seemed pleasant, with Meredith smiling throughout, until the final ride on the merry-go-round. As they got into Watari's car, she remained silent about it, and L chose not to ask what was troubling her. However, he found himself unable to comprehend why she was sad at the end of the day. No matter how he analyzed her from every angle, his attempts to understand her emotions were in vain, a recurring frustration he experienced whenever he tried to decipher her inner feelings.

She seemed fine now as they sat in her room, shoulder to shoulder and side by side on the piano bench, with her playing. L kept staring at her, but her focus remained on her music, and there was no sign of the melancholy he had seen at the amusem*nt park.

"What do you think of this piece?"

"W-What?"

"I mean this piano piece," Meredith clarified, tapping the sheet music before her.

"Sorry, I was thinking about a case."

A small lie wouldn’t hurt. He hadn't mustered the courage to ask her why she seemed melancholic yesterday. Usually, he would directly ask people when they showed signs of emotions he couldn't understand, like "Why are you hesitating to answer?" when interrogating suspects or questioning police.

But not now. Puzzlement was such an unfamiliar experience for him. It was so strange, as he hardly encountered it. Perhaps it was because Meredith rarely displayed strong emotions or expressions that puzzled him. That's why he now felt somewhat unsure about asking her directly why there was a hint of sadness in her eyes.

“A case that you need to handle the following week until your next return?”

“Um- yeah- what were you playing again?”

Meredith paused and didn’t respond to his question. She seemed to be thinking about something, from how her gaze lowered. With a brief ponder, she asked, "In mid-September, will you be busy with cases?"

“Maybe. What?”

“It’s our school’s bunkasai (文化祭, cultural festival). I will be participating in a performance. Would you be willing to come? It’s quite different from what I’ve done previously,” Meredith said, turning to look at L. “But I wanted you and Watari to come and see, although you don't have to force yourself if you don't want to.”

“Different from previous performances? What is it?”

He was well aware of her musical accomplishments, and although he had attended a few of her performances in the past, it was usually when he was in the right mood and had the time. Besides, watching her win every contest sometimes became boring, and in later years, he would rather just wait for the anticipated results that were relayed to him, while he focused on his tasks in his own room.

“Kei-on-bu (輕音部, light music club) needed a keyboard player for their performance, so they asked me if I could help out.”

“It makes sense since you are the best pianist in the country,” L responded quietly.

She didn't see that compliment coming, and a blush slowly appeared, but she continued to inform him, “It might be quite noisy and crowded. I don't want you to feel obliged to come just because I asked you.”

Noisy and crowded, that seemed not a problem, after going to the amusem*nt park with her, it became not a main concern. L couldn’t quite explain why, but he found himself more drawn to the idea of attending the event with her. Perhaps with more observation of her outside Wammy’s House would he have a deeper understanding of her world, and maybe, all his puzzlements would have an answer to them.

L paused, taking a moment to consider her offer.

“I'll go,” he finally said, a small smile playing on his lips.

“If the ones in front don’t sit down, I can’t see anything,” said L.

Watari glanced over at L. The young detective beside him sat in his usual position, crouched and hunched on the chair, with his hands resting on his knees. His intense gaze was fixed on the stage, even though he couldn't see the performance. Recently L seemed slightly more interested in attending activities other than cases as of late. While serving tea and desserts for L, Watari found that L was dealing with cases at an even faster pace than Watari could assign to him. Although L was known for his ability to work long hours without sleep, occasionally prompting Watari to remind him to take a break, this past week L appeared more reluctant to stop and rest. He pushed himself to complete tasks beyond his usual capacity, a behavior that concerned Watari.

It wasn't until L and Meredith mentioned the bunkasai music performance to him that Watari finally had a sense of what was going on. However, the nature of the performance was certainly different from what he was familiar with, despite Meredith's previous explanation that it would be unlike her usual performances. Watari found himself slightly surprised by L's willingness to attend, considering L's known aversion to loud and crowded places.

He followed L’s gaze toward the stage. The light music club had taken the stage, and the auditorium was filled with the booming sound of loud music. Spotlights flashed and turned, switching to different colors, creating a thrilling atmosphere as the performers made their entrance. However, their view of the stage was obstructed by a group of excited audience members who stood up and cheered, forming a wall that prevented them from seeing the performance clearly.

It certainly wasn't the kind of performance that Meredith was accustomed to participating in. Her usual engagements revolved around serious competitions, invitations to perform, or recording sessions for composing original soundtracks for films or television commercials. The music was so loud that it vibrated Watari's glasses, creating a distorted visual effect. He adjusted his spectacles and glanced over at L, who seemed unfazed by the volume. L tilted his head side to side, trying to catch glimpses of Meredith on the stage through the gaps between the boys standing in front of him.

Watari had anticipated this and handed L a small pair of binoculars.

"Thanks, Watari," L said, taking the binoculars.

There she was, positioned on the left-hand side of the stage, seamlessly blending in with the rest of the band in her school uniform. Her face was adorned with body paint, featuring a white base with a black butterfly drawn over her right eye, covering almost half of her face. The makeup style reminded him of the American rock band "Kiss," which she had shown him before, indicating that their performance would adopt a similar appearance. Her features were obscured, almost to the point of being unrecognizable, but he knew it was her because she was the keyboardist.

Seeing her in that makeup brought a wide grin to his face, despite it being quite ridiculous.

The resounding noise of drums, loud vocals, and rock guitar drowned out her keyboard playing, making it challenging for him to discern specific notes or melodies. Yet, he found himself undisturbed by the cheers and clamor surrounding him and was immersed in observing her through the binoculars.

Before the light music club took the stage, there were other talent performances from various clubs, including the cheerleading team, drama club, and symphonic band. The auditorium was filled with liveliness and an infectious spirit. School life wasn't something that particularly interested L, but the vibrant atmosphere compelled him to remark to Watari, "Such youthfulness."

“You could experience school life if you want, L,” replied Watari.

"No, perhaps later in life," L responded. For now, observing school life from a distance would suffice for him. He doubted he would ever have the opportunity to experience it firsthand.

Unless it was necessary for an investigation.

"Everybody, lend me your hands!" chanted the lead singer on stage.

L robotically raised his hands with a plain face and joined in with the crowd's enthusiastic waving.

After the light music club's performance ended, L commented, "There's no need to watch the rest of the performances since Meri has already finished her part." With that, Watari and L exited the auditorium. Meredith received L's text message and was waiting for them outside.

“Watari, thank you for coming!” She smiled and hugged Watari, although the man was slightly taken aback by her exaggerated makeup. Upon closer inspection, L noticed her white face with a large butterfly design covering her right eye, and black lips.

“My dear, you performed well,” replied Watari.

"You should keep the makeup on when you return to Wammy's," L remarked, observing Meredith’s face.

Meredith responded with a smile that L was familiar with, although not in this particular state. "It might scare others. I have makeup wipes with me." With a swift motion and a few quick wipes, she transformed back to her usual self.

"Too bad, I was expecting you to scare Roger," smirked L.

Meredith chuckled and shook her head, "As much as I would love to see his reaction, I don't think I want to give him a heart attack. Maybe next time."

She continued, "The school has set up numerous booths for each class and club to exhibit or sell things. Do you want to check them out?"

L noticed the familiar spark of sincerity in her eyes once again. It was something he hadn't witnessed while watching her perform on stage through the binoculars. As he was about to leave with Watari, a thought crossed his mind. If she didn't have any further plans at school, he could offer her a ride back to Wammy's House. Those sparks of sincerity had piqued L's interest once again, and he considered spending some more time at the festival. After all, he had already cleared his schedule to attend, so a little more time wouldn't bother him.

"Okay," agreed L, and they departed with Watari, promising to return to the parking lot two hours later.

The school grounds were transformed into a festive marketplace with numerous stalls and booths offering a variety of activities, games, and food. Most of the stalls were run by students, selling homemade crafts, traditional snacks, and organizing games for visitors to participate in. Some stalls were run by outside vendors who had received permission to enter the campus. The majority of students were adorned in their uniforms, while others showcased their talents through vibrant costumes for the performances.

Although the Japanese school in Winchester wasn't a large campus, on this day, it was bustling with people as if every Japanese person in England had gathered for the bunkasai. The atmosphere was so immersive that it felt like being in Japan, with everyone conversing in Japanese. This event was one of the rare occasions when the school opened its doors to the public, drawing numerous attendees eager to experience Japanese culture.

As they walked side by side, L noticed the gentle brushing of the back of their hands. It reminded him of the day they went to the amusem*nt park when a similar occurrence had taken place. Normally, he would tuck his hands in his pockets to avoid any specific contact with others when he needed to be in public. But when it came to being with her, grabbing her hand was never an issue, and he never felt embarrassed about it, not even once. It was a simple gesture, like when he would drag her away from Takashi's hassling on the day he picked her up from school or when he took her hand and pulled her to the library to find answers to the subjects they were debating. Holding her hand was something normal to him.

On the day they went to the amusem*nt park, however, the occasional brushing of their hands didn't bother him. In fact, he found himself expecting it and even lifted his hand out of his pocket to align with hers. But it felt strange to hold her hand that day, as there was no reason to do so.

Just like today.

"Stay close to me, L," Meredith turned around and took his hands, leading the way through the bustling crowd as if they were swimming in a sea. There were moments when L feared he might lose her in the crowd, and he held her hand tightly in return, struggling to keep up with her.

L glanced at the girl before him. She seemed completely natural in taking his hand, without any hesitation, just like when they were children. Contrary to his hesitation.

"Did your class exhibit anything?"

"I heard Tanaka mention they're doing a maid-themed café, with boys dressed in maid costumes and girls as butlers, but I didn't participate in the planning."

"So youthful," commented L once again.

"You're only 16, but you sound like an old man, L," Meredith chuckled. "If you want, you could enroll in high school. Watari could handle it for you."

"You're saying the same thing as Watari, and my answer to you is the same: No. Having you share high school life with me is enough."

"Maybe you will have other opportunities. High school might be too easy for you. University might suit you better."

"I doubt I'll ever have to participate in school life."

"Who knows? Perhaps there will come a time when you have to investigate a school or a suspect who is a student."

"We'll see about that."

At first, she walked ahead of him, their hands tightly clasped. Gradually, they shifted to walking side by side, taking in the sights of the various stalls and booths lining the lane. The enticing aroma of street food such as Takoyaki and Okonomiyaki filled the air, drawing the attention of passersby who wanted to experience a taste of Japanese flavors. Meredith bought some dango (sweet Japanese dumplings served on skewers) drizzled with red sugar syrup for L, and they shared a Taiyaki (a fish-shaped pastry filled with various fillings).

"There are some exhibitions in the classroom area. Would you like to check them out?" Meredith flipped through the bunkasai manual.

"Anything in particular that interests you?"

"The Ikebana club is displaying their flower arrangement works, and there's a handcraft club... Oh, and there's a chess club that's teaching outsiders how to play shogi today."

"You don't need that, you already know how to play."

"You can still give it a try."

"Nah, time is running out, and are they better than you?"

"Well, I did play with them once, just for fun, and the game ended relatively quickly. We still have time, so we can take a look from the corridor instead of entering the classroom. Besides, I wanted to check out our class’s maid theme café," Meredith suggested.

L considered her proposal and nodded in agreement.

They continued perusing the manual, exploring the different exhibits and activities available. As they walked through the corridors, they marveled at the creativity and talent displayed by the students. The classrooms were transformed into mini galleries, showcasing a variety of artwork, crafts, and cultural displays. The vibrant colors, intricate details, and artistic expressions captivated their attention. They decided to observe the chess club's activities from outside the classroom, standing in the corridor where they had a clear view of the participants engaged in their games.

When they arrived at Meredith’s class, Takashi, dressed in a maid suit, tried his best to maintain a composed expression while serving L and Meredith. His displeasure was evident in his subtle frown and narrowed eyes when he noticed L sitting in the classroom booth with Meredith. As he approached their table to serve L's coffee, he couldn't hide his annoyance entirely.

“Meri! And Asahi! Nice to see you here,” Tanaka smiled and continued to greet new customers.

“Takashi-kun, you surprisingly suit well in the maid suit,” L commented with his plain voice.

Takashi's irritation was evident as he replied curtly, "Shut up and drink your coffee, Asahi."

“Please add some more sugar to my coffee, Takashi-kun.”

Takashi begrudgingly obliged, adding another sugar cube to L's cup.

“More.”

Takashi added another cube.

“More.”

Takashi’s eyebrows twitched, but he still added another cube.

“More- ”

"That's enough, Asahi-kun," Meredith intervened, stopping L before Takashi grew impatient and preventing him from using up all the sugar cubes that her class had prepared.

With the designated time agreed upon with Watari approaching, they made their way back to the ground floor of the campus, taking one last stroll past the remaining stalls and booths. The bunkasai was still in full swing, but they had already decided to leave before the crowds and traffic became too overwhelming.

One of the stalls caught her interest. It had a Nobori (幟), a long and narrow rectangular flag often used in festivals or events to display a message or symbol.

"Let's check that out!" Meredith pulled L and went up to the stall to take a closer look. It was a stall run by outside vendors, displaying numerous souvenirs and gadgets, mostly imported goods.

There were delicate patterned handkerchiefs, refined chopsticks, cute chopstick rests, Daruma Dolls (だるま), Sensu Fans (扇子), Omamori (お守り) and Ema (絵馬), a set of origami paper (折り紙), Lucky cats (Maneki-neko, 招き猫), Japanese sandals (草履), coin purses (小銭入れ), Japanese hair ornaments (Kanzashi, 簪), wind chimes (風鈴), Koinobori (鯉幟), and Teru teru bōzu (てるてる坊主).

There were various masks on display, including kitsune fox masks (狐), hannya masks (般若), Oni masks (鬼), Tengu masks (天狗), and Samurai masks (侍). They had noticed several people wearing these masks while strolling around the campus, which created an atmosphere reminiscent of a summer festival rather than a bunkasai. While she initially had an interest in the fox mask, her eyes were drawn to the Hyottoko mask(火男), and a playful grin formed on her face.

"You should try this," she suggested, taking the Hyottoko mask and placing it on L's face. The comical expression of the mask brought a smile to her lips as L watched her from behind its exaggerated features.

The contrasting comical expression of the Hyottoko mask against L's typically serious demeanor prompted her to comment, "It suits you." Retrieving a small mirror from her bag, she showed L his appearance. L couldn't help but notice that she seemed to enjoy seeing him in silly accessories, like the sunglasses before and now this mask. However, he didn't mind her playful gestures. He remained silent, simply observing her smile behind the mask. And slowly, without her knowing, he smiled in response.

He couldn't quite figure out whether he had grown fond of the silly Hyottoko mask or if it was her reaction to seeing him wear it and the smile she had on her face. But in that moment, it didn't matter. He simply watched her with contentment, wearing a smile of his own.

They ended up buying the mask before making their way back to the parking lot, where Watari was waiting for them, and they returned to Wammy's House together.

"Did you enjoy the performance?" Meredith asked as they were on their way back.

"I was blocked by a group of people in front of me, so I couldn't see much, to be honest," L replied. "But I didn't dislike it."

Meredith shrugged cheerfully. "No worries. The music they played was rubbish anyway."

Chapter 15: Recipe

Chapter Text

Dear L,

When will you and Watari be returning next?

-Meri

Meri,

We won't be returning until November.

Watari will be back at Wammy's by the end of October.

-L

On tiptoe, Meredith stood on a stool with a pile of books in her left arm while her right arm reached toward the upper bookshelf, constantly retrieving books. Clouds of dust were raised as she pulled out the books she wanted, making her squint and hold her breath to avoid inhaling them. Despite this, she managed to hold the books closely and maintain her balance.

Cookbooks were rarely borrowed in Wammy's House, as they had a cook who handled meal prep for the children and staff.

To name a few of what she retrieved, including titles like "100 Desserts for Starters," "Sweet Treats," "Sugar Rush: Recipes for Homemade Sweets," and many more similar cookbooks.

There were occasions when she learned some cooking skills at school, as she still participated in some non-academic classes in high school. Home economics classes offered sewing and cooking courses, and although she couldn't attend every class, she managed to acquire some basic skills. It was not something Meredith had done frequently, and in her current predicament, all she could do was search through every relevant book that might align with the concept she had in mind.

She should turn to the local library instead of relying solely on Wammy’s House library. The library at Wammy's House primarily housed academic works and textbooks that were essential reading material recommended by the institution's professors. While there were some donated books that catered to a wider range of interests, including literature, fiction, sheet music, newspapers, and reference books on various subjects, the diversity and breadth of the collection couldn't compare to what the local library had to offer.

Meredith wobbled a bit as the weight of the stack she had gathered became too much for her to hold in a single arm while maintaining her balance. She stepped down from the stool and headed to the study area. The study desks in the library were positioned next to tall windows, allowing the sunlight to stream onto the desks and provide ample light for studying. As she settled into a seat and flipped through the cookbook pages, she swiftly skimmed through the table of contents, searching for anything that she could make.

Cake. Cookie. Tart. Bread. Macarons. Puffs. Meringue.

No baking…Has to last long enough…Could be preserved in room temperature…and sweet…and to the best of her ability…

Her brows furrowed as she went through all the content in detail, crossing out the ineligible options one by one in her mind. After examining the last cookbook she could find, she placed it aside along with the rest. Leaning back against the chair's backrest, she took a deep breath and gazed up at the library's ceiling in silence.

Almost everything that L liked and craved fell within the realm of baked goods. And baking was not her thing. The last time she attempted to make butter cookies, only to end up with his comment, “Tastes like over-brewed coffee.”

Come to think of his comment… it was actually a rather restrained and mild one coming from L, considering his tendency to make impolite remarks on other subjects. For instance, he once commented on an investigator's deduction conclusion, tilting his head and emotionlessly saying, “Were you thinking?” with a very innocent yet harsh tone. And without any hesitation. Although she actually agreed with him that the investigator's conclusion lacked logic and common sense, it was obviously better not to say so in front of the person.

L may be condescending sometimes, but she didn't mind, as she always thought that someone having the same intelligence as the children in Wammy’s House would find communication with normal people quite tiring. Their world and mindset are built differently. Being the top one, L would experience much, much more occasions when people couldn’t keep up with him. Would L also consider her stupid? She admitted that her intelligence level was maybe above average in Wammy’s House, and perhaps all those years with L might have enhanced her intelligence level as well. However, no individual could actually beat L, and she doubted even the successors of L might not be able to surpass him. But L never did comment on her being stupid or show signs of condescension, as far as she could recall. Maybe he was being polite, or maybe it was because they have known each other for too long.

She blinked her eyes to moisturize them after staring at the ceiling for too long.
Regain your focus and thoughts back to ideas for gifts, Meri.

What she wanted to make had to be something that could last... Jam? Jam typically needed bread and other pastries, and L wasn't the type of person who enjoyed eating sweets with other accompaniments... Could he eat jam on its own? No, who eats jam alone...?

Perhaps she should consider a different approach. Handmade small things? She was quite good at handcraft and art, so it would be much easier to whip up something. However, L wasn't really interested in gadgets; he preferred playing with snacks, sugar cubes, or candy wrappers. Buying him a bag of sugar cubes seemed like a better option, although maybe… that was going a bit too far.

As she pondered over what else she could make, she tried to divert her frustration from the fruitless search to the surroundings of the library. That's when she noticed the desk across from hers, stacked with books related to music, albums, and sheet music.

With just a glimpse of the covers of the books from far away, she recognized the resources immediately. She had played all those pieces, or at least read them. In fact, Meredith had gone through all the music-related books available at Wammy's House, and some of them were even on the bookshelf in her room.

A boy, around 12 years old, was sitting there, engrossed in studying them. It was the boy that L had bumped into when they were heading to get the chess set in the game room that day. He had natural black hair just like L and herself, but his was untidy, much like L's. He sat slightly hunched, his demeanor resembling L's, but his face had a more natural tone, unlike L's pale skin. The boy also had bulging eyes and dark shadows under them, though not as intense as L's. The last time she saw him, he did not have those dark shadows under his eyes.

It was rare to find someone else interested in music at Wammy's House. She hadn't heard Watari mention taking in another child with a talent for music.

Curiosity sparked within her, and she stood up, pretending to return the books as she walked past the boy who had borrowed them, along with the sheet music. His attention was fully focused on a piece of paper in front of him. It wasn't writing or taking notes that he was engaged in but rather composing music on the staff lines, which surprised her even more. He at least had some concepts of music theory.

The boy appeared troubled by something, and she couldn't resist the urge to lean in and take a closer look. When he lifted his gaze, his brown eyes locked with Meredith's, but the whites of his eyes were bloodshot and red, evidence of him probably being sleep-deprived or overly focused on his work. Surprisingly, he remained calm and composed, unaffected by Meredith's proximity, as if he had noticed her approaching without diverting his attention.

"You understand composition?" the boy inquired, his tone soft and quiet. It wasn't because they were in the library and had to speak in a whisper, but rather his natural way of speaking.

Meredith nodded, "Kind of. Are you composing?"

"Yeah, I've been working on a piece. I'm just stuck on the next bar, couldn't come up with a better transition."

She studied the chords and notes on his sheet. Nice, simple piece, with a somewhat gloomy tone, not yet finished.

"Have you considered adding a descending chord progression in the bridge? It might create a more emotive transition and enhance the overall dynamics of your composition."

She hummed under her breath the suggested notes, illustrating. The boy refocused on his composition, his pen gliding across the staff lines as he notated the notes she suggested. A satisfied smile formed at the corner of his mouth, indicating that her suggestion aligned with his vision.

Taking a seat across from the boy, she asked, “You composed before?”

“…Not really, I’m just trying.”

“It’s quite impressive that you have such progress.”

“…Impressive?”

“Yes.”

“That’s nice of you to say.”

“It’s facts.”

The boy had a faint smile spread across his face upon hearing her compliment. “I want to give it to someone, as a gift. My friend. He knows more about music.”

“Does your friend play any instrument?”

“He told me he played guitar and piano, but that was a long time ago. It’s just a hobby.”

“Hobbies are necessary in life.”

Upon hearing, the boy slightly avoided her gaze, and muttered, “He wanted to continue. But they said music is unnecessary in our training.”

“Who are ‘they’?”

“The instructors.”

“Professors?”

“Some of them are.”

She wasn't sure if she should inquire further about the boy. As far as she knew, she was the only one at Wammy's House who received formal music training. Over time, most professors couldn't offer her advice anymore as her abilities surpassed their expertise. Intuition and practice were what she relied on to further develop her musical skills.

It was possible that other professors simply didn't have a deep understanding of music or failed to recognize its importance. Yet, at times, she herself questioned whether musical talent in Wammy's House held any true value. Watari wanted to raise geniuses that could change the world, stop conflicts, and contribute to human society, but could music itself achieve such grand goals? Music knows no boundaries and can touch people's hearts, but it certainly can't stop World Wars or political conflicts, nor can it catch criminals or bring about justice... However, she had never heard any professor explicitly deny the importance of a specific skill before. Maybe it was a new professor, or perhaps they were instructors specifically selected for this boy......

And why not let other children have some opportunity to explore other hobbies? After all, it didn't seem fair for her to have exclusive access to the piano. Maybe she could suggest to Watari that they move the piano outside her room and create a dedicated piano room where anyone who wanted to play the instrument could have the opportunity to do so.

"If you need advice on composing, feel free to ask," she said, pausing to consider whether she should continue, "I'm... experienced."

Recent works of Meredith included a TV commercial for cereals, which had the children humming the melody and begging Roger to buy the product for breakfast, though Roger firmly rejected their pleas. The only people who knew about the specific composition invitation she accepted were Watari and Roger, as they were the ones who approved it, and sometimes L, if he was interested in knowing. It was better to keep it to herself.

The boy contemplated her offer for a moment, "That sounds nice, but I don't have much free time. My training programs take up most of my schedule."

Training programs taking up most of the schedules?

They have structured curriculum at Wammy's House, which included common courses that all children had to take at a young age. Meredith was familiar with those. A boy his age should be starting to have specified courses, but also follows group schedules. It seemed rather unusual for this boy's training programs to occupy the majority of his time. Perhaps he was an exceptional case, someone with unique abilities that didn't require following the standard schedule.

Like L.

"Take your time. Whenever you find some time, just leave a note on my bedroom door to let me know when you'll be at the library. My room is on the right side of the stairs, at the end of the corridor, on the third floor."

Meredith then asked the boy’s name.

The boy lapsed into a momentary silence before responding, "I'm Adam."

Adam. She had never heard this name before. Or she was too engrossed in her studies to notice any new arrivals.

"By the way, Adam, do you know of any sweet treat that can last long, be eaten on its own, portable, and doesn't require baking?"

Adam contemplated for a moment before responding, "...Jam."

"…Who eats jam on its own?"

"I know someone who eats jam on its own," Adam muttered with his eyes slowly blinking, "But if jam isn't an option, something similar but can be eaten on its own…you could try candied fruit."

Meredith considered his suggestion and nodded. "I'll look into that. Thanks for the idea."

"Mr. Hyde, would you kindly inform us where you buried your girlfriend after you dismembered her?"

There was one marshmallow in L’s plate before him, with the background screens shining, creating a tiny shadow of the sweet. A bowl of marshmallows was at his right, and he pinched another one from the bowl and delicately placed it on the one that was on his plate before him, waiting for the man on the monitor to respond. Through the monitor screen, in a small room with plain gray walls and an iron-locked door, an officer stood in the corner carefully watching.

This was the first time she worked with the famous detective L. Although the voice coming from the monitor was altered, it didn’t change the fact that the person could calmly ask a culprit while knowing that he had dismembered a person. Guess he was famous for being rational and emotionally detached not just for nothing.

The man in the room looked up, straight into the camera, his hands handcuffed behind the chair, "…You'll get nothing from me."

L gently dropped another marshmallow on the one marshmallow before him. Looks like a marshmallow snowman. He was quite pleased.

"Mr. Hyde, why did you commit such crimes? Of course, I am not truly interested in it, but rather more interested in how you found the perfect spot to bury the body pieces. However, Ms. Carlisle behind you would greatly appreciate your answer in order to write a decent report about the case."

The officer at the back of the room twitched her eyebrows, attempting to maintain her composure, but she knew better than to intervene in the detective's interrogation.

"...You will never understand, do you? You, the sound behind the monitor, I bet you never loved someone like I loved and adored her—"

Love? Is that how love should be like? To be obsessed and able to commit murder in such methods? L placed two more marshmallows on the top of the two stacked sweets, and slowly moved his fingers away, watching the four stacked marshmallows tower before him.

He could make it taller.

"And then, because you suspected that she cheated on you, you held her in captivity in the basem*nt for 18 days, sexually assaulted her, went to her house, detained and interrogated her family, abased her parents, and threatened any man that talked to her in her working environment?"

He glanced at the case file beside him and pulled it closer, flipping through the pages, with his eyes scanning at the lines of the file. Ten deaths, ten victims’ photo were pinned with paper clips on the top of the pages. Ten deaths were related to this case, meeting the minimum standard for him to be interested. If the police had asked for help earlier, maybe before the 15th day of the victim's captivity, she would have had a chance to be alive. But the investigators were too blindfolded to notice that Hyde was acting abnormally, so even after three visits to his house, they didn’t see any signs or clues.

"Those who accompanied her are covering the truth. I have evidence that she did all that to me. I just wanted her to admit that she was at fault. If she admitted it, I would have released her, and everything would be back to normal."

The culprit continued, "You never loved someone like I do. Whenever I see her…I fall in love all over again, and I wanted her to be mine, to be mine forever. That smile, those pale blue eyes- it belonged to me, she promised that I’ll be the only one, and I will preserve that forever- but she- she was a f*cking liar, lied through her teeth and f*cking every word- she was like a bird, a bird that always needed freedom, and how I wished I was the cage that she wanted to stay in- And it's not fair- IT'S NOT FAIR THAT I AM THE ONE THAT'S ALWAYS ALONE!!!"

L lowered the computer volume, muffling Hyde's screams of “I DESERVE BETTER THAN THIS!” and violent struggles in his chair, the chains on his feet and handcuffs rattled and rustled vigorously. His voice grew hoarse from all the yelling and resistance.

The detective observed him closely. Hyde resembled a child throwing a tantrum in a supermarket, demanding sweets from his mother, but this man was much older, and his grievances went far beyond mere candies.

L then pressed the button on his microphone and directed, "Ms. Carlisle, please administer another shot of sedative. Clearly Mr. Hyde needs to calm down before we can proceed with further questioning. Let's take a break for now."

"Yes, sir."

The multiple screens were still displaying different contents. Some showed data stats for other ongoing cases that L required from the investigation bodies, while others displayed classified authorities' files, news updates, confessions transcripts, and his email in the Wammy Organization mail system. On his disorganized desk, aside from sweets, case files were piled on both sides of him, with papers sticking out from the stacks. His focus returned to the marshmallows before him.

Adding three more shouldn't be a problem.

The tower of marshmallows stood before him on his plate as he stacked three more on top. Hyde seemed to understand his girlfriend profoundly, enabling him to cover up all signs and clues, thus leaving no abnormalities for the police to track down the true killer of the victim. Was such a deep understanding a result of love, too? Could love form an emotional conflict that could transform someone becoming a monster who seeks to control another being, even to the point of controlling life and death? Could it be that severe?

If so, he certainly did not have any love inside him, if that defines what love was.

He continued to stack more marshmallows as Watari walked into the dimly lit room which was only illuminated by the light of the screens, placing a cup of hot black tea before him.

And of course, with a jar of sugar next to it.

“The murder case that was assigned two days ago?”

Without lifting his focus, L responded, “Yes. Mr. Hyde said that he loved her and that’s why he committed such crimes.”

He didn’t tear his attention away from the marshmallow tower and continued, “If love is what Mr. Hyde defines, then I am thankful that I do not have love in myself, Watari.”

“I consider it is wiser to understand love in another perspective other than Mr. Hyde’s perspective, L,” Watari replied with a wry smile.

The tower of marshmallows collapsed, scattering in silence. During the earlier interrogation, Hyde also revealed that being with his girlfriend brought him so much joy that he wished she could be with him forever. He had an intense desire to possess every expression she had, wanting her smiles and tears to belong solely to him. Hyde further confessed that memories of his girlfriend smiling at him flooded his mind when he held her in captivity and dismembered her. Strangely, there was a smile of longing on his face as he recounted those horrific actions. “And that’s love, Mr. Detective. In your brilliant mind that you don’t know such things. You’re a fool in this field,” he concluded.

A fool? That was not how he sees himself often. Nor do authorities regard him as a fool. Most of the time, it was he who considered others as fools. It was obvious that under the definition of Hyde's explanation of love, he did not have any of those feelings toward anyone. But thinking of someone frequently, L had experienced that recently.

Even using all his knowledge and analyzing skills, he still couldn’t explain why he had been thinking about Meredith more often lately, especially since their visit to the amusem*nt park. It wasn't the first time he sensed something abnormal, from the day she had popped up in his mind while he was working. It was unlike the type of thinking he had when he used to not see her around, and that marked an unusual phenomenon for him.

Since a young age, he had been accustomed to her being around. It felt natural. Her presence was so... reasonable. She existed. She was there. She listened. She replied, and she commented. He saw her. He listened to her talking, and he accepted her presence. That’s it.

When he moved out from Wammy's, he was slightly not used to her absence, but quickly grew accustomed to the new state a year ago.

But things were changing. Was it abnormal for him to think of her smile more frequently, just like Hyde had his girlfriend's smiling memories in his mind when he murdered her? He certainly did not want to harm Meredith, but the same phenomenon he experienced with Hyde was disconcerting. It made him feel uneasy to discover that he had something in common with a psycho killer. Was he going crazy as well? However, he felt quite like himself most of the time.

Thinking about her and having her on his mind during work was starting to interfere with his focus. This had to stop. He needed to find a solution to it. But first, he had to determine the nature of this phenomenon. It was beyond his comprehension, beyond logic and reason, something that defied all his calculations and predictions.

“Is there anything that is on your mind, L?”

L restacked the marshmallows on this plate, pondering how to respond to Watari. There was only one method he knew to understand the culprit’s mind, and also, figure out what was going on in his own.

And that would be, more research.

"Watari, could you lend me every book, tape, journals in the nearest library that relates to affection...Academic or fiction, maybe romance... anything."

"Why so?"

"...Mr. Hyde claimed that he murdered the victim because of love. It was beyond my comprehension, and it seems that I'll have to understand his mindset better with further research."

Nobody knew the cook’s real name, but simply calling him “the cook” is sufficient.

The kitchen at Wammy's House was primarily managed by the cook.

Every week, he went to the market to select seasonal ingredients and placed orders with specific vendors, who then delivered the goods to Wammy's House. He covered all the meals at Wammy's House, including breakfast, lunch, dinner, snacks, and special holiday meals. He could cook almost any imaginable food, from pastries, soups, desserts, and side dishes to common dishes like noodles and ravioli – they have all appeared on the dining table at Wammy's House. Traditional British meals or even international cuisines pose no challenge to the cook.

The children hardly see him, as he did not take on any caregiving duties, and arrived at the institution before breakfast and leaves after dinner. The most regular time to see the cook was during mealtime. He would gather with Watari, and now with Roger, and all the children, to say prayers together before dining. It was a definite opportunity to catch a glimpse of him.

He had a robust physique, a shaved head, and a clean-shaven beard (he said it was for cleanliness). His nose had a slight hook, and he appeared to be around 40 years old, with deep-set eyes that sometimes made you wonder if they could double as an ice cream scoop.

If the children were fortunate enough, there were times when they would encounter the cook in the corridors or at the backyard of the orphanage. It was not uncommon to find him busy tending to the vegetable garden (he primarily grew herbs that were used in meals), or collecting fresh eggs from the hen coop. During these moments, if the cook happened to be in a good mood, the children could make special meal requests.

Nobody knows who he was, but one thing was certain: the employees who work at Wammy's House have earned Watari's trust, and certainly the cook too.

Like Roger, the cook also possessed an exceptional memory. With so many children at Wammy's House, it would have been impossible to serve the same food to everyone. Some children had peanut allergies, while others were allergic to seafood, but he remembered it all. In addition to taking care of the majority of the children's meals, he also accommodated the dietary needs of those with specific allergies, ensuring their meals were free from allergens. At Wammy's House, apart from special cases like L, who had an obsession with sugar, the meals were generally well-balanced and nutritious. Of course, there were times when children disliked certain ingredients, such as spinach or bell peppers, but in a communal living environment, they had to eat what was prepared nonetheless.

Despite his mysterious and low-key nature, the children did not disrespect him when they saw him. After all, nobody wanted to have a strained relationship with the person responsible for cooking their meals. The last time a kid offended him, though no one knew the reason, it resulted in the cook serving a special meal with all the food that the kid complained about. The meal remained very nutritious and well-balanced in general, so Roger still made her finish it.

The cook, who was kneading bread dough for breakfast, soon noticed the girl standing at the entrance of the kitchen. He knows all the children’s names, and he soon figured out who was standing at the entrance.

With his hands full of flour, he waved at her, and she approached him, feeling slightly shy and unsure.

“It’s rare that you would come to the kitchen, Meredith,” said the cook while still kneading the bread dough that he was working on.

"A-Are you busy?" stammered Meredith, quite startled that the cook remembered her alias. She had never talked to the cook before. The few times she could recall seeing him were when she followed Watari around the orphanage, observing their discussions about menus. After L came to Wammy's, she also watched Watari discussing dessert options with the cook. However, as she started spending more time with L and following Watari around less, she hadn't seen the cook alone for quite a while.

"Not really, I just have to finish this dough," the cook replied in a low and calm tone. Perhaps those who were trusted by Watari all had the same composure, which made her feel more at ease.

Meredith tried to come up with something to talk about before making her request, "What are you making?"

“Fig and walnut bread, it would be tomorrow’s breakfast. What brings you here?”

"I…I was wondering if you could teach me how to make this, based on this recipe," Meredith pulled out a piece of paper from her pocket.

The cook paused and patted his apron, wiping away some of the flour on his hands, before taking the paper and carefully studying the notes that she copied by hand.

"It's simple, but the version you chose requires a long period of time to complete. There is a shorter version that would take less time.”

"No, I want to use this recipe for the best results."

"Making it for someone special?" the cook returned the note to her, lifting his eyebrows, while the girl before him hesitated to respond.

"...It's for someone's birthday. We don't usually celebrate birthdays here."

In Wammy’s House, if they were to celebrate each child's birthday in the institution, they would have to eat cake for the entire year, even if they celebrated it once a month. Usually, the birthday child would receive an additional cupcake with icing for their birthday after dinner, but that was about it. Many children preferred not to celebrate birthdays at all, especially anything related to their original families, including their own birthdays.

Meredith didn't celebrate her own birthday and preferred to keep it to herself. She had mentioned it to L once when they were younger, but she doubted he would remember such trivial details, as he never mentioned or did anything in response. On the contrary, L had a fondness for birthday celebrations. He saw them as an additional opportunity to indulge in cake, and having a legitimate reason for it made it even more enjoyable. In the previous years, Watari would be the one to prepare his cake, and together with Meredith, they would celebrate L's birthday in the privacy of his bedroom.

This year marked the first time she couldn't celebrate L’s birthday with him. As Watari returned to Wammy’s House alone in the following days, she made up her mind to prepare a treat for him, something that could last long without needing refrigeration, and that Watari could take back to L’s place.

"If you want me to instruct you, you can come to the kitchen after supper and help me with the dishes. Then I'll be able to spare some time to supervise your progress on this recipe."

Meredith nodded, "Thank you, cook."

"We don't wrestle in the gaming room," Roger stated firmly.

"But wrestling is fun, Roger!" barked the boy with golden blonde hair, standing before Roger. The eyes under his neat bangs stared up right at Roger, and they were as sharp as knives, ready to cut through the manager of the orphanage. He was no older than 8, and there was a great height disparity between him and Roger, but his tone was firm, strong, and impulsive, unlike his young age and appearance.

"Yes, but only when the other person consents to wrestling. You can't just pull someone in and wrestle with them, Mello. That is pure fighting. Apologize to Matt."

"I actually said yes, Roger, so we're wrestling," shrugged the boy named Matt, who had brown hair and dark blue eyes. Matt's response did no good to the situation. It wasn't very convincing to Roger either, especially with Matt sporting a black eye from taking a punch from Mello.

They still needed to be disciplined. With other children complaining about them using up the space in the game room, Roger had to step in.

"You still can't wrestle in the gaming room. If you two were wrestling in there, how would the others borrow games and play with toys in peace?"

Before the two boys could talk back to Roger, their disciplining was halted by a knock on the door.

"Come in!"

Meredith leaned to the side, her upper body reaching toward the office door, while she carried a jar of orangettes in her arms.

"What is it, Meredith?" Roger's tone retained a hint of sternness, as he had not completely transitioned out of the state of disciplining the two boys.

"Are you busy, Mr. Ruive?" Meredith glanced at the two boys who turned their heads to observe the older visitor. She was only familiar with her peers who were around her age, and some older teens, like L and Kimiko, and she rarely had the opportunity to interact with younger children, especially newcomers.

Roger let out a weary sigh, realizing that he needed to temporarily halt the disciplining process. His principle was handling the discipline of younger boys in private, respecting their dignity, and preserving their self-respect.

His tone softened, "It's alright, proceed with what you need to say. What's the matter?"

She stepped into the office, her footsteps quick and purposeful, and approached Roger, "I was wondering if you could give me a taste test on this," she turned to the two boys and asked, "Do you two want some, too?"

The two boys cast their eyes toward the jar she held. With a nod, Meredith handed Roger and the boys a piece of the candied orange slice, half-dipped in chocolate.

Roger adjusted his glasses and examined the piece that was given to him. He wasn't particularly fond of sweets, but he had to admit that the orangette in his palm was exquisite.

The orangette was a perfect circle with a perfect thickness, evenly sized with the slices in the jar. It glistened with sugar, the translucence allowing light to pass through and casting a golden, crystal-like glow. Half of each citrus slice was enrobed in a rich, dark chocolate coating, creating a dark half-moon shape that offered an alluring contrast of colors against the golden candied fruit.

The dessert's appearance was truly captivating.

"They are incredibly sophisticated, Meri," remarked Roger. The two boys didn't offer any comments and immersed themselves in the sweet directly, savoring it thoroughly.

"Overly sweet," replied Roger with a frown after he tasted it. Meredith wasn't bothered by the remark; she knew it was precisely the kind of comment that indicated the dessert would suit L's taste buds.

"I think it's nice," Matt replied while still chewing.

Mello bit off the part with the chocolate coating. "It goes well with chocolate," he remarked and handed the remains to Matt, who nibbled on it without complaining about the lack of chocolate.

“Mello- ” sighed Roger, with Mello giving the “What?” look. A picky eater, Mello was. But Roger was already done with scolding Mello.

Their comments and reactions to the orangettes fueled Meredith's confidence in the gift that she prepared.

It was October 31st, 1998. Watari would be returning today.

Chapter 16: Box

Chapter Text

Meri,

The candied orange slices you made were delicious. Make some more.

-L

Dear L,

Let the treat be a special one that only appears on your birthday.

-Meri

Sometimes, Meredith would wonder how the teen before her could possess such high intelligence while also being utterly the most childish and capricious person she had ever seen. None of her schoolmates or university classmates could compare to his intelligence, but at the same time, no boy could match his stubbornness. Perhaps the line between genius and madness was much thinner than anyone could imagine. In this instance, she questioned why she had never punched him out of annoyance. It could only be explained by her unusually high level of patience with him, or maybe he had never done anything that truly got on her nerves.

“Make some more,” L leaned in close, his hands on his bent knees, pushing his face right into her view, interrupting her focus on her psychology textbook and course materials.

For over half an hour, L had been poking her persistently, repeating the same sentence again and again, and there was no sign of him stopping. The gap between them had gradually shortened during this time, from him merely being in front of her, to crouching beside her, and now, leaning in close to the point where his face was inches away from hers, and she could feel his warm breath on her skin.

He could almost kiss her on the cheeks. Neither of them was aware of it, as L remained fixated on his request, while Meredith diligently ignored his relentless stubbornness.

Seated on the floor of L’s room, she turned herself sideways in the lotus position, replying, “No.”

L wasn’t going to give up. He moved over and tilted his head, maneuvering himself to get back into Meredith's view once again. His wide black eyes bore intensely into hers, talking right into her face, “Make some more.”

She turned again, replying curtly with the same answer, “No.”

"Why not?" L’s stare was unwavering. The expression on his face made it clear that he would persist with his request regardless of the reason she gave.

Not raising her focus from her textbook, Meredith answered, “It’s time-consuming, that’s why, L.”

“How so?” L leaned back slightly, tilting his head to the side and pursing his lips.

Although L would continue to urge her to compromise, Meredith felt compelled to explain why she was reluctant to do so. Engaging in conversations and debating topics was a common practice for them. L was the type of person who would listen to her reasoning, even if he might not fully accept it.

He knew that sometimes Meredith was quite firm on certain topics and views, but there were occasions when she would give in and let him have his way, and that too was considered a small victory for him, in addition to solving puzzles and cases.

It was worth a try for both of them.

She closed her book and set it aside, facing him and giving him her full attention, "I have to do grocery shopping first, blanch the oranges, slice them evenly, cook them in syrup, and then they have to rest overnight. I have to repeat the process for five to eight days. It takes up to ten days to make those. I’ve decided to make it only once a year."

Counter-attacking her statement with a tone filled with expectation, L replied, "I assume that now you are quite familiar with the steps, so you will be much more adept at it."

“No, L, I've already said they're a special treat only for your birthdays. No one has that much time to do all that.”

Special treat. There was something nice about it, knowing that it was exclusive. Seeing her huff of determination, L knew that he would lose this game of bargaining, but now it was not about winning anymore; it was about teasing and annoying her on purpose. He found it rather fun to see more expressions from her, and perhaps, with luck, she might give in at the last minute.

"Make some more," urged L, as he shoved his face in front of hers, relentless in his efforts to shake her resolve one last time. All Meredith could see were his black irises staring, and the long fringe of raven hair, which slightly tickled her nose. It was then she realized he had come too close, and with one more inch of leaning, they would ki -

She pressed away his face to avoid the scene that popped into her mind from actually happening, and L withstood the pressure of her palm, squishing his nose and lips. Catching her breath from the realization, Meredith said, "No. I'm not a pastry chef, and you don't need a baker. Watari would buy you better desserts from professional pastry shops."

“Hmm… perhaps I should hire a baker, and appoint you as my exclusive candied orange slice maker, even if you don't bake," L's voice muffled from the palm of her hand. The idea appealed to him.

Who has time for being his exclusive candy maker? Meredith narrowed her eyes, “Detective, hire anyone you like, but not me,”

L leaned back, escaping her palm, and his lips pressed together, displaying disappointment, "Fine then, I shouldn’t have eaten them all in one go if I knew you wouldn’t be making more." He had been planning to persuade her to make some more on Christmas, thinking she might have time during the holidays since the Japanese high school in England follows national holidays, even though Japan doesn't celebrate Christmas on a national level.

However, the girl before him had firm eyes glaring at him, and he considered it better not to press the matter further.

There was a pile of books that Watari borrowed for L at the corner of the room, and he reached for one with a chocolate package as a bookmark. She noticed the stack of books, too, and asked, “What are you currently reading?”

He turned to her and showed her the cover that stated, Soulmate from Hell, "It’s a murder romance."

“I didn’t know you would read these.”

“I am analyzing them. I am currently handling a murder case where the culprit claimed that he murdered his girlfriend because of love. I am unfamiliar with the concept, so I asked Watari to borrow some books and resources for me.”

"And what have you discovered from reading those?"

"Hmm... I see that love is something that I haven’t yet experienced, judging from every description about the protagonist's perspective towards love and affection. That impulsiveness, that feeling of excitement, like electricity jolting down people’s skin and bones, or missing someone constantly and wanting to be with them forever, or promising eternity... No. I have come to the conclusion that I do not love anyone."

He does not love anyone. Such an answer from L was so expected, as Meredith had never heard him express interest in any other girls in the orphanage or show interest in anyone from his workforce.

L would tell her if he had… perhaps, she thought. At least, in her understanding, L could say the darndest things without feeling shameful or hesitant whatsoever. Emotionally detached, rational—that’s why he was the top one. His response also left her slightly depressed.

Maybe L couldn’t love anyone, maybe he’s aromantic, or perhaps he hadn’t found anyone that he particularly was interested in.

What about her own feelings? Those feelings towards him were not as intense as those portrayed in novels or fiction. Yes, there were some occasions when his presence would give her a slight blush and a twinkling feeling, but most of the time it was...natural, just like before. She liked when L was around, she liked when Watari was around, and she cherished those familiar people who were close to her; that was enough to satisfy her. She shared what she saw and experienced, whether at school, during her studies, while reading, making observations, or just experiencing life. And she wanted to see the world through L's eyes. That's basically it. She doubted that anything had changed between them, or maybe it was just her feelings playing tricks on her. The few blushes and emotional fluctuations she rarely encountered were enough to signal that something very subtle was shifting.

Perhaps love stories were too dramatic, but even the typical ones she heard from her classmates—having a crush on someone, feeling nervous around them, and eventually falling in love—didn't resonate with her. She had never experienced anything like that herself. Maybe it was because her original family lacked love or caring, as mentioned in her psychology classes about childhood trauma and its impact on a person's perspective on relationships. Perhaps this affected her ability to love anyone as well. But at least she knew that she cherished Watari and L, and she knew that Watari had cared for her and given her the warmth that her parents did not provide.

Meredith gazed at L, who was chewing his thumb while focused on reading the romance novel single-handed. Well, it didn’t matter whom he loved or whom she loved. As long as she still had L and Watari as company, that would be enough.

She sat behind L, and leaned back to back. He noticed her action, but continued his reading. All the sounds in the room were only the flipping of L’s reading, and her scribbling notes on the post-it notes on her textbook.

They had sat in this position before—two children sitting together, not talking, simply engrossed in their own readings. But now they were no longer children; with L’s seventeenth birthday having just passed, she noticed that the back she leaned on had become more... wide? Broad shoulders. He was thin, slender, and she could feel the small bulge of his spine touching hers. There was a comforting solidity to his presence and a gentle warmth emanating from his body. Although L always slouched terribly and showed no signs of wanting to correct it, leaning back-to-back with him still made her feel comforted and at peace.

L flipped another page, while simultaneously reaching for another gummy bear from the package beside him on the floor. When she leaned close, he noticed how soft she felt against his back. His focus quickly returned to the fiction he was reading, trying not to be distracted by her.

Aside from the book in his hand and in the room, there were more at his place, thanks to Watari, and he had been going through almost all of them, but they still didn't seem to offer a clear answer. Neither enemies-to-lovers stories, instant love, nor the most normal teen romance he read could adequately describe their situation. Academic works only explained the scientific aspects, with discussions about hormones and how the brain and neural network work, but they still didn't provide him with a sufficient explanation for what he was encountering. The feeling of falling in love didn't seem to align with what he was experiencing—the shift in their relationship and the unusual urge, or willingness, to be more attentive to her.

For now, he believed it wasn't love, but he still couldn’t find the right answer to this perplexing situation. It irked his mind to discover something he didn't fully understand.

It was mid-November. Exams in Meredith’s high school had finished in October, and although she didn't need to participate in classes, she still had to take exams. However, the results were anticipated – her scoring high grades left everyone in awe of the mysterious student. Unlike Americans, who have Thanksgiving, November was a quiet month with no big events, and no one really looked forward to it, merely waiting for December, as Christmas would be approaching.

Christmas. Wammy’s House followed Christian traditions, and both L and Watari took breaks on Easter and Christmas. Although she didn’t have any religious beliefs (and as far as she knew, neither did L), it was still nice to have specific dates to anticipate their return.

Christmas… Christmas… It reminded her of something, and as L seemed available for now, a bold idea crossed her mind. For once, she wanted to take a risk, to go for it, and follow her impulse, something she normally didn’t do. But why not try and see what would happen between them? After all, it wouldn't hurt, and maybe L wouldn't even notice that it was a bold move from her, as he was always quite slow when it came to emotions and actions he couldn't understand.

Without a second thought, Meredith spoke up casually, as if it was just another topic for her to chat with him, "Our school is hosting a ball."

Ball? L lowered the romance book he was holding, shifting his attention towards her, and asked in confusion, "A ball? Why would a Japanese high school have such an event?"

Meredith shrugged, setting her textbook aside, while looking over her shoulders to L, "I think the administration wants us to experience something more culturally traditional, like what other Sixth forms in the country do."

She paused and turned to face L, her eyes meeting L's curious gaze, "We're learning a simple box step dance for the occasion. I haven't had a chance to practice yet. Would you be willing to practice with me?"

L considered her request, his dark eyes scanning her face before finally nodding, "What do you need me to do?"

Meredith stood up and extended her hand toward L. "We could start from practicing the steps first. After that, do you want to lead or follow?"

Without hesitation, L accepted her hand, "It doesn't matter. We can switch roles."

Accepting his response, Meredith led L to face her, and their eyes locked momentarily before they started learning the dance steps together. With their hands grabbing each other's elbows and locked together, they both gazed down at their feet, stiffly stepping through the simple dance moves. If anyone had burst into L's room, they might have mistaken the two for doing a bizarre exercise rather than dancing.

“What was this ball for- ”

“Ow!”

“Sorry, my bad.”

“It’s fine. It’s something like an end-of-term party, but in a form of a ball, more formal yet simply dancing- ”

“Ouch!”

“Sorry- should step my right foot.”

Although athletic like L, dancing with her was something he had never done before. After a few more instances of stepping on each other’s toes and a couple of initial stumbles, they finally managed to become more familiar with the steps.

She cleared her throat, breaking the momentary silence of their focus,“I never knew dancing was so hard.”

Her voice sounded a tad unsteady, and a rosy shade appeared across her cheeks, slightly embarrassed by how much time it took to get the simple steps right. L responded with a short “me either,” but still dared not to look up at her face, keeping his gaze on his feet. He too felt his ears turning red, with the prickling feeling of blood rushing through the flesh of his ears, and he didn’t want her to notice.

It was awkward to dance with her, with another feeling churning up inside. Do people dance like this? People... dance to music, don't they? Is it because they were dancing in silence, so that's why it's so awkward?

They continued to dance in silence, and finally gained enough confidence to tear away their focus from their moving feet and place it on each other.

"I think I am getting better at this," winked L, their hands still grabbing each other's elbows. Meredith laughed in response when she saw his proud expression, reminiscent of a toddler who had just learned how to walk.

"Then why are you still stealing glances at the floor?" she teased, observing his darting irises continuously gazing down.

"I am making sure you don't accidentally step on my precious toes," L replied with a playful grin, while Meredith retorted in the same tone, "That's what I wanted to say."

There was still a forearm distance between the two, and without considering the aftermath, she instructed, “Our school said we could hold hands in a 'V' position. Place your right hand on my back, just below the shoulder blade."

L did as he was told, and Meredith took a step closer to him, clasping his hand in hers. Together, they resumed the dance steps, but still avoided direct eye contact.

It was funny that everything in the room was the same - the white lights, the sound-proof walls, and his bulky supercomputer in the background (not currently in operation) - but the awkwardness was new, and the sensation was unfamiliar. They both knew it silently inside, unbeknownst to each other.

She finally could steal some glimpses of the seventeen-year-old teen before her as they swayed together slowly.

He might be 180 centimeters if he didn’t slouch, Meredith thought while observing L, who was still gazing at his feet, but with a focused and calm demeanor, as if he was determined to master the box dance and ensure he wouldn't step the wrong way again. Since he was a child, he approached unfamiliar things with curiosity, analyzing and observing in detail, eventually mastering many skills. He was a quick learner, but only a few things truly piqued his ultimate interest, aside from detective work and investigation.

The way he concentrates - he hardly blinks when giving his full attention to something; in the current scenario, it was his feet and dance steps - her gaze lingered on his focused expression. She had always been fond of seeing him fully focused on the task before him, with unwavering determination as if he could change the world through his diligence. She believed he would, and perhaps he already had.

Has he found a person that could communicate with him on the same level of intelligence? Did he find a solution to relieve his boredom aside from his detective work? If not, it might be lonely to be the all-knowing person, to be the only one that could communicate to himself. To be burdened with the responsibility of changing the world, saving lives of victims, and determining and judging one's crimes.

Such a perfect person, yet lonely... Would L want her to stay close to him, as much as she wanted to stay close to him and Watari?

“You’ll- Christmas, you and Watari, will take breaks, as usual, right?”

L noticed Meredith's grip tightening. Was it because she was fearful of the worst answer, and thus preparing herself for disappointment? He wasn't sure, but if so, his answer would provide her comfort.

“Yes,” confirmed L, “We will be taking a break slightly earlier than before, a week before Christmas. But there is an abroad conference shortly after the new year, and Watari will attend that conference in person. I’ll be accompanying him. So we won’t be in England for New Year’s Eve.”

A faint grin appeared on Meredith's face, beaming brightly, although she looked away, trying to hide it from L. What would L think of her if he didn't have any other thoughts of her? If she was the only one feeling thrilled about their return, it would make her like a clown in front of him. She pressed her lips together firmly, attempting to conceal the mixture of warmth, happiness, uncertainty, and anxiety she was feeling, not allowing them to escape.

“Where would you two be going this time?”

“Los Angeles. I've never been there, but I'll share with you what it's like when we go there.”

L finally considered that he could lift his focus from his feet and face her. Meredith seemed to gaze into the distance, despite the lack of anything truly far away in the square-sized room. Those lingering feelings that he couldn't explain—was it because she was the only female around him? But no, he had encountered many females at work, most of them he only considered as one-time encounter colleagues, unless they were senior officials more regularly involved in investigations. During breaks, he would overhear male investigators chatting about females from the computer, though he wasn't particularly interested in who was attractive and hot. Perhaps due to his intense concentration on the cases, he couldn't care less about anything other than clues and mysteries, having no second thoughts about them, unlike his male colleagues.

But the girl before him had known him long before he became the detective that Interpol relied on heavily, seeking his advice and assistance. In her presence, he could revert to being just L, the introverted weirdo from Wammy's House, a teenage guy who enjoys teasing her, rather than the “greatest” detective of this generation people expect to solve cases instantly, though he doesn’t really care how people comment about him or consider him great.

When it comes to the aesthetics of people, he had no knowledge about such things. L’s mind emerged with some faces that he remembered working with, and most were…just faces. Nothing much to comment on, really. He then fixed his gaze on Meredith’s profile. He wasn’t sure what to comment on either; he could only conclude what he had observed of her- black, waist-length glossy straight hair she has, with natural wispy fringes that thinly covered her eyebrows - he remembered seeing her trimming the fringes herself? Her double eyelid eyes, almond yet more on the round type, with lashes that were expressive, almost giving people the illusion that she enhanced her waterline with an eyeliner, but she didn’t. With a soft beige skin tone, she was much more human-like, contrary to his own almost albino pale tone, which was the result of him hardly being outdoors.

Then, the thought of her having a face straight out of a magazine crossed his mind as a comment about Meredith's appearance. L blinked, quite startled that he had come up with a remark about her features, unlike just a few seconds ago when he considered he had nothing much to comment on. People look like their biological parents, right? Then…maybe it was a good opportunity to ask about her past, although he admitted inwardly it was quite strange to bring it up now, but it just felt…right.

“Could I ask you… if you remember anything about your parents?”

He tried his best to sound casual yet cautious, knowing that for people like them, discussing something about their past was delicate and perhaps hurtful. And… their relationship had always been, well, pure and innocent. She was too… should he consider gentle? Yes, she was so gentle that he dared not harm her in any way. But the current atmosphere made him want to know more about her. Maybe this would be the start of her revealing more about herself. Perhaps he would do the same.

Meredith lifted her gaze and met L’s eyes. It was quite a surprise he suddenly asked about her original family, but at this moment, there was something magical about the room that made her feel slightly bolder to answer… maybe anything.

She nodded in response.

“Do you… look more like your father or mother?”

“More like my mother. And you?”

“I don’t have any memories of them anymore. But if I do, I hope I look more like the better-looking one.”

She chuckled at L’s answer, “Then I suppose they both were good-looking.”

“Your mother must have been good-looking,” he purposely spoke in a fast manner, trying not to let her hear what he said clearly, but she nonetheless still understood him.

In response, her demeanor darkened slightly, like a grey cloud covering the sunshine, casting shadows.

"It's not a blessing to look like my mother," she spoke quietly, recalling her father's dominance. The words were still vividly remembered by her, and the vulnerability still lingered in her mind, but his face started to blur. Over the years, she had come to face her parents' words and figures more calmly, as their images were beginning to wither in her memories.

Gazing back at L, he had a face as if he did something wrong, and Meredith tried to ease his concern.

"But it's okay now."

“It’s okay?”

Meredith nodded, " I have Watari—and you—so now those sad things have distanced from me for quite a while."

A flush appeared on L’s pale cheeks when he heard her mention him, looking bashful yet reserved. He looked away and sheepishly responded with a faint smile, which she didn’t notice.

L then remembered: if she was attending a ball, she should have a dance partner. Who would it be? He wouldn’t be returning to Wammy’s House until the holidays, so certainly it wasn’t him. Someone else would be dancing with her, just like they were currently doing.

It was hard to imagine because it had never occurred to him, not even once, that someone else might come into her life and be closer to her than him. The thought of it was difficult for him to grasp, but as he thought about it, most students graduated from Wammy's when they reached the age of 18, unless other conditions were taken into consideration. Although she would stay in Wammy’s House for another few years, just like him, she would eventually leave. She wouldn't be waiting for him at the orphanage's door or in his room, and he wouldn't be able to find her in her room anymore when he returned to the institution. She would meet new people, just like how she made new friends at school and in her music field.

It's fine if she has another dance partner. It’s fine... What kind of person is her dance partner? Hope it's not Takashi. Wait, what if it is Takashi? Anyone but Takashi is fine.

But was it something that he could say anything about? He was a person who minded his own business, but now it seemed that he was losing his composure when it came to someone who would be close to her... L couldn't understand why he changed, but for now, he had to ask who her dance partner was.

Hesitating, but slowly, L felt himself become more cautious and nervous than when he asked about her past, “So, who will be your ball partner?”

He became clearly puzzled when he noticed the glint of mischief in Meredith's eyes, indicating that she was up to something.

She slyly replied, "I don’t have a dance partner."

L's eyes widened, and before he could inquire further, she abruptly broke free from their position. A smile curved her lips as she added, "I’m the piano accompanist of the ball."

… Huh?

Before L could figure out what she meant, Meredith swiftly gathered her belongings and hurriedly made her way back to her room, leaving him completely blank and trying to process what had just happened.

Chapter 17: Irritation

Chapter Text

He wanted to go after her, perhaps grab her by the shoulder, and interrogate her with every method that was legal and efficient until she told him what she really meant. But L held back nonetheless. Whatever the answer would be, he dared not face it yet, especially when he hadn't figured out what he was going through. Instead, it was time to return to his place. With thoughts of Meredith and the dance tangled in his mind, he started stuffing the books into the white bag that Watari had left for them.

When Watari saw L emerging from the entrance of the orphanage, he didn’t expect the gloom on L’s expression, as if he had swallowed something he didn’t like, nor did he anticipate that Meredith would not be following behind. It was the first time she had not seen them off, and it alarmed him, wondering what had happened during his absence. After they moved out, upon returning to Wammy’s House, Watari decided to grant the two teens some space, as they were old enough for him not to be constantly present. He spent his time dealing with lingering administrative matters that demanded his signature, and he had a nice chat with Roger. Although most of the time Roger complained that Watari shouldn't have left all the tasks for him, he still answered all of Watari's questions in detail.

He adjusted the rearview mirror of the luxurious black Jaguar, reflecting his own grey eyes and the pensive teen seated behind. Although most of the time when L was in the car, he didn’t talk much, today his demeanor seemed more deadpan than usual.

"Anything on your mind?" Watari inquired as he started the car with the engine roaring into life, and slowly driving away from the institution.

As the Wammy's House gradually faded into the distance, shrinking to a mere speck visible through the rearview window of the vehicle, the teenager in the backseat remained unresponsive to Watari's inquiry. He placed his thumb between his lips and drew his knees closer to his chest.

Usually, L sits “normally” when seated in the car, Watari thought.

"Something bothering you?"

L's expression remained deadpan, and he appeared unwilling to answer.

Watari added, "Meri didn’t see us off this time, did she?"

"M-hm." Finally. A response.

"It couldn't be that you're having a quarrel with Meri, could it? You two hardly ever fight, except for those arguments over which experimental method is more efficient when conducting the Coulomb Titration experiment," Watari replied with a chuckle, reminiscing about the scene.

That was, like, five years ago? When they were both still children, L was still living at Wammy’s House.With Watari entering L's room, Meredith hurriedly flopped into his legs, burying her face in them. At first, judging by how she raced to him and her eagerness, Watari thought she would have a sniffy face, almost on the verge of crying, and he wondered what had happened when he was not in the room. However, her expression wasn't one of defeat or seeking comfort; instead, it was sharp and determined, and she began to babble, "The Method of Initial Rates isn't the best method in the Coulomb titration experiment when it comes to this condition because..."

…And she went on with a rapid and impassioned speech, presenting her reasoning and pleading for Watari to give a verdict on the debate between her and L. To add to the situation, L joined in, fiercely counter-debating, which made Watari even more bewildered at that moment, with both of them claiming they were right.

"I am justice!" Quite a surprise from Meredith when she cried out the same words as L on his first day in the orphanage. They do have some impact and became more similar over time. The two children had a small cold war after that, unwilling to talk to each other, and were both finding more resources to support their own stances. Watari had to step in for this “fight” and then make them let go of this subject, stating that "it’s a case-by-case answer, so both of you are right."

Watari looked in the rearview mirror at L. Ah, children, they grow so fast. L certainly was no longer a boy anymore. Neither was Meredith. In his eyes, they were equally dear to him, although he had to admit that he spent more time on L than on Meredith and the rest of the children in Wammy’s House. They had grown up together, and to him, they were like siblings.

“Siblings have quarrels all the time, I am surprised that you two rarely fight - ”

"No, we haven't had any quarrel," L interrupted, not looking up from the view outside the car windows, rocking himself. His mind was spinning, starting to deduce the situation as if it was an unsolved case—if she had claimed to be the piano accompanist for the ball, then dancing wouldn't be necessary for her to learn. So, why did she still ask him to practice with her?

He regretted not chasing after her—damn it, it was just on the other side of the third floor from his room—he should have gone after her, but he hesitated. Something held him back.

Lavender. The scent of lavender. As L observed her features, memories of the fragrance from the herb field they had visited together flitted into his mind. She had mentioned it before, describing it as calming and sleep-inducing. However, he couldn't recall her having that scent before, at least not consciously. It seemed to be a scent that had only recently become associated with her. Perhaps it was only recently that he noticed what kind of scent she uses.

There was something else about that scent when they were dancing. He found himself wanting to take a closer sniff, to lean in towards her, and inhale the fragrance that seemed to emanate from her hair or skin — wherever it originated — and sink into it deeply.

No. It didn't feel right. His hands instinctively tightened into a grip. Besides, it's just lavender. He knows that. Yet, an inexplicable sense of inappropriateness lingered within him. There was an urge, new and rather uncontrollable, primal and untamed. He had seen it in some culprits’ eyes. It wasn't merely impulsiveness of anger, but more like a burst of energy, a misplaced longing for pleasure that drove people to crave unruly conduct towards others and commit some of the most disgusting crimes he could never truly understand.

Suddenly, it hit him—the impulsiveness of desire. Was it because she was the closest female around him? If solely based on this, having such desires repulsed him. Despite his mastery of deduction, he couldn't fathom indulging in such an impulse, nor could he bear the idea of harboring these indescribable emotions.

The thought of this brought a twitch to his brow. I must be losing my mind, he thought, attempting to hold back the feeling of nausea, and struggling to regain his focus on Watari’s inquiry in order to distract himself from his current mindset.

Siblings, he said?

Taking his gaze away from the window, L shifted his attention to Watari. "Siblings... do you consider Meri and me to be like siblings?" he inquired, his tone reflecting a curiosity that wasn't always present in his conversations.

“Ah, yes,” Watari responded, his gaze briefly meeting L's in the rearview mirror before returning to the road.

“Why?”

“Well... to an extent, from my own observation, you two share a kind of relationship that is closer to that of family. Being there for each other despite not fully comprehending the troubles the other is facing, but still wishing them the best is enough."

L contemplated his words while wiggling his bare toes. Watari’s words seemed to correspond with his relationship with Meredith, being much more accurate and closer to reality than what he had previously researched. Affection, relationship between two person, romance, love……

He followed up with another question, “Does that mean siblings love each other?”

“I think the majority of siblings do share the general definition of love for each other, but there are exceptions that do not.”

L resumed to his thoughts. From his earliest memories, he had known solitude. Family, siblings, relatives... they were unfamiliar and distant concepts to him. As for Watari, he was his handler and spokesperson.

As he pondered, his fingers tapped a rhythm on his bent knees. If, according to Watari’s definition of family, then perhaps the connection between him and Meredith indeed held a camaraderie that had grown over the years. It was a bond of deep understanding, a relationship that was, at the very least, closer to family or platonic in nature. But it didn't explain the shift in dynamics... and the feeling when they were dancing… Do siblings feel desire for each other? Does family evolve into something else? It seemed much more nuanced than that.

“Have you danced before, Watari?”

“Yes, on some occasions.”

“What occasions?”

“Oh, maybe someone’s party…maybe to celebrate something…”

“Who do you dance with?”

“Anyone you like.”

“Do siblings dance?”

“Why not? Family, lovers, colleagues…as long as two persons agree to dance, they can dance.”

“So you dance with Roger, too.”

There was a brief pause from Watari before him replying, “…Yes, I have danced with Roger before.”

“In what occasion?”

Watari stole another glance in the rearview mirror. It was rare that L was interested in something that was not related to investigations and cases.

"When we were both serving in MI6, there was a colleague's wedding, which was rather rare. People like us don’t consider entering family life as an option. Having someone to lose is too painful for the heart, and in the majority of cases, being the one that breaks the other person’s heart. But they nonetheless entered marriage together."

“Why?”

"People enter marital relationships for various reasons, L. However, in the intelligence field, determining whether it's an act of bravery or foolishness isn't always straightforward," chuckled Watari. Yet, L keenly observed that beneath his smile, a touch of pity lingered, though he couldn’t fully understand it, much like the thoughts he was grappling with earlier. It appeared that there were many more things he couldn't decipher, hinting that more puzzles awaited him to fathom.

The car resumed its silence, with only the soft humming sound of the engine resonating. Watari continued to observe L through the rearview mirror as the skies turned dark and rain began to fall. The pattering of raindrops grew more intense, and the wipers started to move across the windshield, creating a repetitive swishing sound with each gentle swoosh.

“Roger had informed me that K suggested to lessen up the successor program.”

“It’s up to you. I don’t care,” replied L coldly.

“I also wanted you to reconsider talking to them - ”

“No. It’s not necessary. Besides, I am no role model.”

“They do look upon you as one - ”

“They can do much better without me talking to them in person. Seeing someone like me wouldn’t contribute to anything good, but only adds things worse. Only a fool would ask for my opinion, and I know nothing about them.”

“You can get to know them better by talking to them, just like how you learn something new about Meri every time you talk to her.”

A subtle tightening of his jaw betrayed his irritation as Watari mentioned Meredith, prompting a slight shift in his seat. The puzzlement arising from Meredith had already boggled his mind enough, serving as a constant reminder that he hadn't yet figured out the answers to the recent questions plaguing him. It felt as though, once again, Meredith had gained the upper hand in the intricate game of unraveling puzzles, leaving him with an undeniable sense of defeat.

L retorted, “Meri is Meri, and successors are successors. If Meri is a successor, then I will consider a different approach.”

“You know well that Meri would not be a successor.”

“So that settles it. At the moment, there is no necessity to talk to them in person,” L replied with his characteristic directness.

He was not interested, Watari sighed, his breath exhaled, but he had tried. The next thing he now had to do was to inform Roger. He was familiar with L's stubbornness, but even he knew only half of what went on in L's mind.

The rain was growing heavier, splattering against the windshield of the car and fracturing the view outside. Glistening raindrops raced in reverse at the side windows, chasing one another and merging into larger drops.

"The instructors did provide me a brief report on how the boys are doing,” said Watari. “By any chance, are you interested to know their progress?"

"No. They meet your standard and instruction is enough, and I do not need to know their progress."

“Ah, well."

Let him be.

Argh.

Maybe that was a bit too bold. Dancing. What– why- how in the world did she muster that courage to ask L to dance with her- what was she thinking?

And L agreed. She was slightly taken aback, as she had been expecting him to refuse such an activity. While she concealed her surprise beneath her usual demeanor, another emotion coursed through her veins when he agreed: a surge of joy and happiness. It differed from the usual comfort and security when she was with Watari and L. It was thrilling, like a boost of adrenaline.

Dancing was certainly not an act that L would typically engage in; his agreement was out of character… or maybe she didn’t know him well enough. But why did he act like it was something so ordinary and unremarkable, as if it were a routine they had done before? This was her first experience dancing with someone, and she was certain that L had never danced with anyone else. Did this mean he failed to realize the significance beyond her usual behavior?

Come to think of it – it was obvious that she had the intention to dance with him – After all, she revealed to him that she needn’t learn how to dance in the end - It was obvious, right? L would figure out her intention, wouldn’t he?

The tip of the pen constantly tapped the blank page of Meredith's notebook as she unconsciously continued to tap the paper while lost in thought. Of course, it was just harmless teasing, and no one was hurt, but she couldn't shake off the embarrassment she felt for revealing her intention. The decision to ask him to dance left her feeling quite ashamed, and as a result, she decided not to see him off that time, understanding that it was time for him to return to his place. Once she was back in her room, she instantly flopped onto her bed, covering her face with her pillow. The rush of blood and the heat of embarrassment turned her cheeks red, almost as if she were having an allergic reaction.

Now she was feeling regretful. If he did not feel anything about her, then it means that the shift that she was feeling was only one-sided. Was this…unrequited?

Tormented by thoughts, Meredith sank her head until it was almost touching the table. Her hands covered her face, her cheeks burning and the rush of blood turning her ears pink. She felt utterly mortified by the swirling thoughts in her mind.

“You’re okay?” Adam was sitting just across her at the desk in the library, doing his assignments from the instructors, noticing her flopping to the table.

Meredith jerked her head up, regaining her composure, “Y-yeah, I’m fine. Have you finished that equation problem?”

“M-um.”

After the first encounter in the library, with some appointments from Adam, she instructed his composition and finished supervising the piece, which Adam forwarded his friend’s comment, “He really enjoyed it.” Since then, Adam would continue to learn some more music theory from Meredith, and sometimes would ask for her help on the assignments that the instructors assigned to him. It was then Meredith realized how difficult subjects Adam was learning, much more challenging than what she was learning when she was his age. What he was learning may be two years ahead of his peers, she estimated.

The boy before her returned his focus to his math assignments. As Meredith observed Adam more closely, she realized that he hadn't been very similar to L when she first saw him. While there were some aspects of his demeanor that resembled L, such as his monotone speech and tendency to slouch, there were also some differences. She noticed his increasing eye bags and shadows under his eyes, which seemed to grow more intense each time she saw him. She was concerned about his sleeping schedule, as children his age needed sufficient sleep, unless there were certain conditions affecting it. However, he didn't want to talk about it, merely stating that “It's part of the training.”

In addition to the differences between Adam and L, contrary to L’s pale skin tone, Adam had faint freckles on his cheeks, a feature L didn't possess. Moreover, while L had raven-black hair, Adam's hair had a touch of brown-black, a hue that only revealed itself when it caught the sunlight streaming through the library windows.

Unlike L, who had thin eyebrows almost to the point of being nonexistent, Adam had well-defined brows that enhanced his dark eyes. Although his eyes were also similar to L's, they didn't quite share the same "dead-fish" like quality.

“How's your friend doing? If he's interested in music, perhaps you could bring him along," she attempted to strike up a conversation with Adam. He wasn't very talkative either, yet he displayed an endearing charm when completing assignments and receiving compliments from her. Even though she felt it was nothing, since Adam himself mostly completed all the assignments on his own, only seeking her advice. She only had to give him a hint and then he was good to go. His face would light up, briefly shedding his stern demeanor and revealing a more childlike aspect.

"...No, maybe not. I didn't tell him I asked for your advice on assignments. He's a competitive person; if he knew that my assignments were being checked and instructed by someone else, he'd feel imbalanced. But I still want to have all my answers right. I want to improve."

They both are competitive, hmm. Like L.

There was another thing that she noticed: L always stares. Intensely. Directly at the person he was talking to, unless he was not interested in the subject that they were talking about. If someone was not familiar with his habit of staring, they might feel uneasy about it.

Adam... Adam didn't stare; instead, his gaze didn't truly make direct eye contact with her when he was listening to her. It appeared as though he did, but in reality, his iris was slightly elevated, indicating that he wasn't gazing at her eyes but just above them. Perhaps this was due to shyness or hesitancy, resulting in his avoidance of direct eye contact. This didn't really bother her, as many children at Wammy's House lacked consistent eye contact and often remained absorbed in their own worlds. Exceptional minds with social quirks and idiosyncrasies were not uncommon in this unique orphanage, and she was well aware that not all geniuses were adept at social interaction.

But it was still strange. Most people avoid eye contact by looking at the floor or focused on things on their hands, fiddling with gadgets with their fingers, but not Adam.

He was staring into space again, which prompted her to ask with a smile, tilting her head, "What are you looking at?"

Adam snapped out of his reverie before replying, "Huh? Oh, nothing."

“You seemed to be gazing at the top of people’s heads. Is there something in my hair?”

“No, it’s just…just a fly. It’s gone now.”

"Oh." Perhaps she was reading too much into Adam's absent-mindedness.

Suddenly, Adam approached her with a question, his demeanor shifting to a more serious tone and undergoing a quite dramatic change. “…Have you been feeling unwell lately?”

It caught her off guard, as she hadn't anticipated such a swift shift in his expression. “Um, no - ”

“...Have there been any significant changes happening around you?”

She couldn't fathom why he was asking those questions, and the intensity in a 12-year-old boy caught her off guard. His gaze appeared capable of piercing through people's spirits like a dagger, making it rather unsettling in that moment.

They weren't particularly close, which made her uncomfortable about sharing her thoughts. However, Meredith managed to conceal her uneasiness and replied with an innocent expression and a gentle tone, attempting to alleviate the tension caused by Adam's sudden change in demeanor, "No. Why do you ask?"

He paused, appearing hesitant to reply. When he finally spoke, his words puzzled her even more.

"You should distance yourself from the changes that are happening around you. It would be better for your well-being."

Chapter 18: Observation

Chapter Text

Although Meredith didn’t fully understand what Adam was talking about, his words still lingered in her mind like an annoying fly that kept buzzing around her ear, and she couldn’t ignore them.

“You should distance yourself from the changes that are happening around you. It would be better for your well-being.”

What does that even mean? Adam couldn’t possibly know what changes were happening around her, as she hadn’t mentioned much about what had happened with L—maybe only mentioning some trivial things about school, which Adam found fascinating.

“Meri, what are you thinking?” Tanaka tilted her head while munching on her sandwich. “You’re not eating lunch? On a diet? You’re too thin to be on a diet, come on.”

“Ah, nothing- I am eating. See?” Meredith speared a tomato from her tray and popped it in.

With Adam’s interest in her school life and not seeing him at the bike shed when it was time for those who were attending school outside Wammy’s House to depart, it seemed that Adam was also the kind of child that was considered not suitable for education outside Wammy’s House.

She pondered Adam’s words again while rethinking the only changes that were happening around her.

L.

While dancing, L was calm. He was always calm. Not that she wasn’t- outwardly, she appeared calm, too, but in that moment, her mind was in chaos, thoughts swirling contrary to L's serene demeanor.

If all those feelings, those emotions, toward L were unrequited, there was no point in letting these thoughts get to her. She would have to toughen up and give herself some time to cool down. It was obscuring her concentration on schoolwork and studies, even though it barely showed on the outside. Sometimes it was doing mathematics and forgetting what step she was on for a brief moment, which never occurred to her before, ever. Sometimes it was practicing her instruments and suddenly when it came to compositions that conveyed similar emotions of the musician, she had to pause for a second before continuing her practice, as when the music gets more intense, her mind gets more tangled as well.

"You don't look well, either," Tanaka observed Meredith. "Are you on your period?"

"Uh no- no, Tanaka, I'm fine, just thinking," Meredith replied with a dry smile that barely hid her turmoil, leaving Tanaka with a suspicious expression.

She tried to finish the food on her tray, scraping up the remaining rice and quickly devouring it. The Japanese high school cafeteria offered Japanese-style meals, including the usual miso soup, rice, vegetables, and a main dish which could be fish fillet, karaage (fried chicken), or fried pork chops, among other options. While some students brought their own lunchboxes, Meredith didn't, given her tight schedule that made it impractical to prepare one the day before. She also didn't want to trouble the cook by asking for a special meal. Keeping a low profile suited her better.

Keeping the chaos to herself, rather than telling L, also suited her better. There was no need to tell him, anyway. He didn’t need to be caught in the same mess that was swirling in her mind. It would only result in his confusion, and both of them would feel awkward if she discussed these feelings toward him. Over the years, she had shared many things with him but had also kept secrets, especially those related to her birth family. Plenty of details were already hidden from L, and this one was no exception. She should have been fine with it, but for some reason, there was a lump in her throat.

Even if Adam was not talking about L—which, of course, was impossible for him to refer to L, as Adam never met L, let alone knew L’s identity— his words could still be interpreted by her to suit the current situation she was facing.

Just by thinking all this made her feel a burn in her chest, and she tried to endure the feeling by giving herself a moment, figuring out what it was. Was this sadness or some kind of reluctance? Knowing that L might not feel the same, and even if he did, in the slightest possibility, she dared not to confirm with him. Or maybe she shouldn’t. L should be focused on more important things, such as accomplishing great things and saving the world - as the Wammy’s children would say. She certainly should not be his priority in any way.

And there was no way she could fix this.

Wammy’s House followed Christian norms for holidays. Christmas Eve and Easter were two important holidays for the institution, and the children looked forward to them eagerly. They painted eggs, have an activity of finding eggs, and received chocolate eggs for dessert.

Christmas Eve, or perhaps the entire month, was much busier than Easter. Almost all the tutors, instructors, and professors were off, and classes were dismissed. The institution went into full swing preparing for the holiday, adorning the edges of the walls with elegant garlands, ribbons, and dazzling Christmas lights that emitted a warm, slowly flashing glow with changing colors. Children would select new clothes from catalogs, try on sample outfits, and receive their new attire on Christmas Eve. Tailors would visit the institution to measure those who needed new uniforms for school or other events.

Roger ordered a Christmas tree to be placed in the common area, beside the fireplace. Without needing to instruct the younger children to decorate it, they fought over the task, adding to Roger's troubles amid all the things that needed to be completed.

Most children were smart enough, or perhaps, in other words, had lost all belief in Father Christmas, flying sleds, and reindeers. When Watari was in charge, he still nonetheless prepared individual gifts for younger children. They would hang stockings by the fireplace, and older children were allowed to write a wish list, specifying one thing they wished to receive for Christmas. As for Roger, he believed that personal gifts would cause imbalances and preferred to distribute the same gifts to everyone, such as sweets and cookies.

"No, Mello, you cannot rip off other people’s stocking name tags and replace them with yours," said Roger. He was busy removing all the name tags that Mello had replaced. Meanwhile, Mello grinned while serving his time-out. Another child was wailing beside Roger, babbling to Roger that Mello had cut his name tag on the stocking.

It wasn't the last trouble that Mello caused. Not long after, Roger found Mello and Matt standing before him in his office, both children wearing mischievous grins on their faces, as if they had accomplished something great and were called to Roger's office for praise.

It was evident that this was not the case.

"So, let me get this straight," sighed Roger, leaning forward with his elbow propped on the desk, his brows furrowing slightly as he addressed the two boys. "You're telling me that you both broke into the room on the third floor, turned on the computer, and somehow managed to break it?"

"It was Matt's idea—" "Mello agreed that it was a GREAT idea—" "Did not!" "You did! And Mello said that he would find the tools to unlock the room—" "It was easy-peasy, actually. Matt said that he learned there was a hidden supercomputer in that room—" "GAMES!" "And then Matt said that—" "The fan wasn't working, so I tried to unscrew the panel and find—" “It’s not fair that only teens have personal rooms, Roger!” “Yeah! I want one too!” "The cables were too long, and we had to navigate the room to avoid stepping on them.” “I tripped, Roger, look at my bruise on my kneeeeeeeeee— ” “Who lets their room be like this anyways?"

Roger struck his palms on his forehead. Goodness sake now is not the time-

"Stop!" he bellowed, and the boys fell into immediate silence. "First, we don't go into other people's rooms without permission—"

Avoided Roger’s eye contact at first, Matt’s dark blue eyes looked up at Roger. "But hardly anyone goes into that room, Roger. I've checked multiple times—"

"Matt, don't interrupt me while I'm talking," Roger sighed and resumed his lecture. "We don't go into other people's rooms without permission, okay? Not even the personal rooms of teenagers. And yes, that room is still occupied by someone, and you have to respect that person's private space."

“It’s not fair that only the teens have personal rooms,” huffed Mello.

“You will get your personal rooms once you reach 12, Mello. Those are the rules, and we don't have spare rooms even if you insist,” replied Roger, while Matt chirped, “I could sleep in the gaming room –”

“Matt. No.”

While lecturing the boys, other thoughts swirled in Roger's mind. A phone call must be made to inform Watari and L about his room not being available. Whether it was necessary to replace the supercomputer. Where L should stay when his room was temporarily unusable. Currently, there were no suitable bedrooms available for the young detective, and who knows what he might need in his room......

Snow fell from the night sky as L stepped out of the vehicle, waiting for Watari to park and join him. His white scarf was tightly wrapped around his face, providing warmth beneath his nose. Pulling down the scarf, L exhaled, and tiny clouds formed, lingering for a moment before vanishing.

Snow drifted onto his raven hair, onto his white scarf, and onto his shoulders that were covered by the khaki color coat. L reached out his hands, and a snowflake gently rested in his palms, covered by his black gloves to keep them warm.

“It’s like the day I entered,” L muttered when Watari joined him, gazing at the snowflake disappearing in his palm. Compared to his usual white long-sleeve t-shirts and baggy jeans, the colors of his winter attire were much more vibrant, thanks to Watari’s arrangement of his clothing. However, the style hadn't changed since he was a child, just the sizes, from youth to the present.

L lifted his gaze and watched the snow drifting down from the sky. “I remember it was a snowy day as well.”

“It was, yes,” Watari replied softly. “Shall we?”

L nodded, and together they headed to the entrance of the orphanage. Roger had left the front door lamp on for their return, and the entrance of Wammy’s House welcomed them with a beautiful wreath. The wreath was adorned with golden-rimmed red ribbons neatly tied into a bow, along with red berries, crisp whitewashed cones, gold ornaments, and pretty flocked leaves.

He remembered that Meredith used to make wreaths at Christmas when he still lived here. Seeing her sitting beside him, busy with the craft in her hands, putting random materials that she collected in the nearby woods, Wammy’s House’s garden, or other bits and pieces that he didn’t know where she got them- and weaving them into a nice, pretty wreath was something he knew he would never be able to do. Art. Music. Those kinds of things. Maybe this one was also made by her. She was much more artistic and aesthetic when it came to handicrafts…

L then realized that she wasn’t waiting for him at the door. He frowned. She usually does.

“She didn’t greet us at the door this time,” said L. And she didn’t see us off last time.

Watari looked at the teen beside him. Somehow his tone seemed to be making a fuss about it. Breaking routines upsets L. But of course, life doesn’t always follow one’s wishes, and he had to learn that when interacting with others. Mostly from Meredith, only.

“It’s late, L,” Watari checked the time from his pocket watch. Eleven thirty. “Meri must have already gone to bed, now let’s enter the house.”

“Why didn’t you greet me at the door yesterday?” L pulled out a Jenga block from the tower and placed it on top.

“You and Watari arrived at midnight. What do you expect?”

“It was eleven thirty.”

“I was in bed.”

She reached for a piece of Jenga. The wooden tower was already in a crippled situation, and normally people would have already ended the game, but not for them. At least not for Meredith, for now.

L's eyes narrowed; his warning clear. "If you pull that one, I'm almost certain, about 95%, it will end the game."

His expression remained stoic, his usual deadpan demeanor intact, yet there was a subtle gleam of anticipation in his eyes. L could almost foresee the future: the tower tumbling down, signaling the start of a new game, a testament to his victory. His warning to Meredith wasn't a suggestion to avoid losing; it was a prediction. Those moments when instincts aligned perfectly with the unfolding events were something that L relished.

She wasn't moved by his warning. Pride was not a quality that exclusively belonged to L. “Watch me then,” she retorted confidently, “you still have a 5% possibility of being wrong.”

With a soft smile, she placed one hand on the carpet, bracing herself as she extracted the Jenga stick with utmost precision. The room was quiet, her gaze focused on the tower, her long hair cascading over her profile, while L’s owl-like gaze watched her closely in the background.

And then in L’s disbelief, with his eyes more widened, she pulled out the stick.

"See?" Meredith dangled the Jenga stick before L's gaze and then let it drop in front of him.

“That's impossible.” L leaned in, his raven-black hair cascading forward as he examined the tower from every angle. It remained standing, not one bit of swaying. He turned to her, “How did you have the nerve to pull that one out? I was sure removing it would topple the whole thing.”

So strange. Sometimes he doubted his judgment and deduction skills would drop when he was with her. Even when he was crouch-sitting. So strange, so strange…

Meredith leaned back and took a big breath of relief. It was a close call. But breaking L’s anticipation was also great fun.

“Physics,” shrugged Meredith, saying as if it was common sense.

“You still have to put it on the top of the tower.”

“I could put it after you figured out which block you are going to pull.”

He observed her expression. She does have the confidence of placing the block on the top. He was forced into a dilemma. L quickly fixated his gaze on the tower and started to figure out which piece was capable of being chosen.

While waiting for him to make his next move, Meredith inquired, “Roger said that your room is unable to be used at the moment.”

L tilted his head and adjusted his posture, unable to decide which block to pull, and replied, “Apparently two boys broke into my room and meddled with my computer. Now it’s broken. It’s a relief that none of my documents are in that old computer now.”

She pictured who might break into L’s room. Maybe it was the golden-blonde-haired kid and the messy brown-haired kid that she met in Roger’s office. Two little boys breaking into L’s room, with no idea that it was the world’s top detective’s room. It was rather a funny thing to imagine. Meredith chuckled at the thought of young boys breaking into L’s room, asking, “What are you going to do with the old one then? Repair it?”

“No. Too troublesome. Perhaps just take it out and sell the components to anyone interested, and smash the essential parts. I’ve asked Watari to buy computers and provide them in the library. At least there won’t be children trying to break into my room again trying to find a computer to play video games.”

“That’s considerate of you,” Meredith remarked, a soft smile playing on her lips.

L's stoic expression remained unchanged as he replied, “It’s not about being considerate. Computers are a great tool, and they are a must-have.”

“When will they be taking out the computer then? I came across your room the other day and noticed that they’re trying to move the computer out.”

L lowered his hand and took a wood block that was previously dropped by Meredith. He started tapping the block on the carpet. “Yes, that’s correct. They couldn’t find sufficient people to remove the computer during the holidays. I suppose it’ll be after the New Year. Which means that for my return this time, I can’t sleep in my room. Yesterday I was in Watari’s room. Having the lights off at one is torture.”

“One o’clock is already late.”

“Watari insisted on lights out for bedtime. Including screen light. You can’t do much in total darkness. It’s boring.”

He paused the tapping and turned to stare at Meredith. He needed to stay in a room other than Watari’s. The one he was currently in seemed suitable. It was familiar, and there was something he needed to explore here. The last time, when they were dancing, he realized that feeling... was the sensation of impulse and desire, which he didn’t really want to admit. He needed to test whether it was a one-time phenomenon or something else, or if it only occurred when he was with her. How much time did he need to spend with her to invoke the same feeling? How close should he get to re-experience it? A close observation might be necessary, and this plan formed in his mind... Or perhaps it wasn't about experimenting or testing his hypothesis. It just felt good to be around her more.

Meredith was familiar with that face. He was coming up with an idea, and it certainly wasn’t a good one.

L began, “Maybe- ”

“No.”

“I haven’t said anything yet,” retorted L.

“I know you’re up to no good.”

L tilted his head again, seemingly innocent, but it was obvious that Meredith did not buy it. “Why so? It’s a great idea, hear me out first.”

She crossed her arms and prepared for his answer. “Alright.”

“Maybe I could sleep in your room for the holidays,” proposed L.

“No.”

He pressed on and added, “I could sleep on the floor. There are sleeping bags- ”

“No.”

“Why not?”

He’s tilting his head again. “It’s…inappropriate, that’s why,” Meredith replied, her eyes flickering.

“Why is it ‘inappropriate’ ?” L thought he knew the answer. He still wanted to ask her anyway.

Any normal person would know why, L. “It’s against the rules. Everyone sleeps in their own rooms.”

“You’ve slept in my room before,” L pointed out.

Meredith’s tone softened slightly. “That was a nap. Not an overnight sleep. It’s different.”

“I don’t sleep overnight often. So I’m not breaking the rules.”

Was he playing dumb and pretending that he didn’t understand the inappropriateness, or was he totally unaware of it? She couldn’t distinguish simply by judging his expression and demeanor. But he seemed genuine... Ah... if she allowed it, how would she be able to suppress those feelings and cool down...?

Meredith sighed, giving up the argument. “Try to convince Watari then; I’m sure he won’t agree with what you’ve proposed. So, have you made up your mind which piece you are going to choose?”

It certainly wasn’t something that Watari had anticipated L would propose. However, when L claimed that “Meri agreed to it,” it became clear that L was fabricating the situation, making no sense at all.

“I don’t think it’s an appropriate proposal.”

“Why?”

Watari didn’t think that explaining the situation would make L drop his proposal. He decided to skip it. “I’m sure Meredith wouldn’t consent to that. Are you certain you have her consent?”

“You can ask her.”

“L, just take a break for the holidays. Go to bed early, and soon your room will return to its usual state, and then you can do whatever you want whenever you wish.”

“I’m preparing for the cases when we arrive in Los Angeles. Christmas activities aren’t the most appealing ones to me.”

“You can study them in the daytime, nighttime is for relaxation and sleep.”

“I don’t work like that.”

He surely doesn't. Sometimes, Watari felt that it was getting harder to understand a teenage boy’s mind, but he soon remembered that he didn't really understand F's mind either when he was a teenager at Wammy's…... F also did many strange things and had peculiar requests.

“If you wanted to sleep in another room maybe you could ask whether anyone is willing to share a room with you temporarily, maybe Matthew or Ethan- ”

“No.”

I thought so. L never interacts with his peers. Or maybe he should consider letting Meri share a room with another girl for the holiday, and L could have Meri's room, but that doesn't seem fair to Meri... especially on Christmas. Watari had already done enough things that were considered favoritism toward L, and it wouldn't be a good idea to let Meri compromise on L’s requests……

Watari sighed. “I will double check on Meri for her consent, and only if she agrees explicitly. I am expecting you two to be in bed when I check on you.”

When she opened her bedroom door, Meredith did not expect L holding a neatly piled sleeping bag and an extra duvet, topped with his personal belongings in a bag. All the things he was holding was almost obscuring his sight and figure.

“Let me in.”

“What’s this about?”

“I convinced Watari. Before I get my room back, I will sleep in your bedroom. I promise you I won’t sleep ‘overnight’.”

What the hell- “Watari agreed?”

“He said he would come up later and confirm your consent. You do agree, right?”

That doesn’t sound like an inquiry, more like an order. “Watari should ask me first to avoid any suspicion of collusion.”

“I’m not asking you to lie. Just to confirm.”

“…Fine.”

Meredith helped L adjust the location of the sleeping bag on the carpet, next to her bed. She then crawled on her bed and tossed him a pillow.

L, catching the pillow, “I have a pillow inserted in the sleeping bag.”

“Trust me, you’ll need it.”

Meredith then opened her closet, while L took a glimpse of her clothes: the numerous dresses with similar fashion styles that he was familiar with, as he had attended some of her competitions before. They were mostly plain and not very fancy, but sophisticated, with high-quality materials.

"I've never seen you wear that pink one," he pointed out.

"I wore it once, but I got second place," she replied gloomily, not very happy about that result. "I lost to someone I didn't think I would lose to. I prefer the black dress or the blue one. I regained first place wearing them."

She surely is competitive when it comes to her field, L thought. “What are you looking for?”

“It’ll get colder, I’m looking for an extra blanket.” As she fished out the blanket and gave it to L, she then looked for another one asking, “So what do you want to do for Christmas?”

“I’m not sure. I am not good at planning what to do at break time. Maybe just work on my laptop.”

His gaze wandered around the rest of the closet while Meredith was coming up with ideas they could pursue during the holidays in the background. ("Roger bought some Chinese checkers in the gaming room; maybe we could borrow it before anyone else takes it…") In comparison to his closet, which he didn't truly have since he wore the same thing every day and Watari stored his clothes for him, hers was more...tidy. Neatly hung dresses, coats, her school uniform, and some everyday attire were neatly folded on the shelves. There was also a drawer that seemed to contain smaller clothing items. It seemed like those were under-

L quickly shifted his attention away from her closet. …That was unexpected. Maybe spending time in her bedroom wasn’t a good idea. Might see things that shouldn’t be seen. His focus went to her bedstand, where some of her cosmetics were placed. He picked them up with his two fingers one of the black short-tube products and examined closely.

"Why do girls have so much makeup?" L questioned, unscrewing the tube- it was lipstick- and examining other unfamiliar bottles and palettes on the bedstand.

“I don’t have a lot,” Meredith replied, “it’s already minimal.” She fished out the blanket, placed it aside on her bed and moved to L’s side, and explained each product to him, “Foundation for evening the skin tone, powder to set the makeup, concealer to cover blemishes, eyeshadow palette to enhance the eyes, lipstick... Some eyeshadow I use it also as blush, contour, eyeliner…”

“Then what’s this?”

“Eyelash curler and mascara. They make your eyelashes more expressive. I don’t use them that often.”

He put the gadgets back onto her bedstand surface. “But you don't need all that. You look fine."

Meredith blushed, "I still need some for performances and competitions." She collected her makeup supplies and had a second thought. “Let me cover those dark shadows of yours, I wanted to see what you would look like when you don’t have them.”

L hesitated for a moment but eventually consented to her applying the concealer. He could see her holding the concealer stick and getting closer to his face, and he squinted, tightly closing his eyes when she was about to dab the product.

The sight of him being nervous made her chuckle. “Relax, it won’t bite. And I promise it won’t hurt.” L gradually opened his eyes, his gaze remaining fixed on her, focused on applying the makeup under his eyes. He could feel the warmth of her fingers gently dabbing on his skin, their slight coolness due to the cold winter temperature, just as he had expected. He remembered they were always cold in winter. He recalled seeing her wearing gloves indoors, and she said that frozen hands would hinder her playing, so she had to keep them warm.

So strange. He had known all this for years, but it seemed that these habits of hers had been ingrained in his mind for many years despite him not intentionally keeping them there, and now he recalled them unintentionally… Why is that…? And it’s so strange, that he would give in and let her do things that he normally wouldn’t let others do to him, or follow rules and suggestions…So strange…and it’s always her…

As Meredith delicately dabbed his under-eye area with her fingers, she closely observed him. His seventeen-year-old face stood out from the other boys his age, who were grappling with acne and redness. Unlike the boys she saw at the orphanage or at school, his skin was unexpectedly clean and free of blemishes or skin diseases. It was evident that L possessed natural good looks. If he weren't so listless and scruffy, he could easily be one of those attractive boys in school. But even in his current state, she still liked him just the way he was.

She wasn't sure if it was because she had grown used to him as he initially was after spending all those years together, or if it was because of the feelings that had been stirring within her.

Meredith then realized L’s eyelids were starting to drop. “You’re tired?”

"Hm… A bit. Drowsy, I suppose." So strange. He had been nervous when she was doing his makeup, but afterward, the nervousness had given way to tranquility. It had happened before, L recalled, in the lavender field and when he saw her taking a nap in his room when they were younger. Sometimes, her sleeping face resulted in Watari discovering both of them asleep on the floor. It was so strange, so strange, so strange. Complexities and mysteries seemed distant whenever he was with her. Even though mysteries and puzzles were all that he lived for, he didn't dislike the current mindset of distancing himself from all those things and simply enjoying the tranquility.

After finishing applying the concealer, Meredith leaned back, admiring her handiwork. He looked…relatively normal. Maybe looking too wake- too energetic that didn’t seem to be the L that she knew.

Her mixed expression caught L’s attention. “How do I look?”

She laughed. “You don’t need to know,” and quickly extracted a makeup wipe and wiped off the concealer from his face before he could stop her. His dark shadows reappeared. That’s more like him, she thought.

L stared at Meredith as she wiped away the makeup. He still couldn’t understand why everything felt so strange when it was related to her. Observing her up close recreated some of the experiences he had encountered a few weeks ago: when she smiled, he felt something fluttering inside. Allowing her to do things to him that he had never considered allowing others to do. He could now be certain that she had some influence, and her presence was the main reason for the abnormality of his mindset.

He wanted to ask her if they should dance again, to try and recreate that same feeling he had experienced a few weeks before. But before he could say anything, he stopped. If he was certain that part of it was desire, then he wasn’t sure if being physically close to her was appropriate. Unpredictable actions of his didn’t seem like a rational outcome. L hesitated and decided to keep the dancing proposal to himself.

Bedtime was never a regular schedule for L. Most of the time, he worked until he passed out in his chair and woke up horizontally in it, requiring Watari's assistance to get up. When he was younger, on the rare occasions when he finally fell asleep, Watari would carry him to a bed. Meredith hardly saw him sleeping, as she would leave his room for bed while L continued to work on his tasks most of the time.

He was surprisingly cooperative today. Perhaps it was because both Watari and Roger had checked up on them separately. Watari had confirmed Meredith’s consent, saying, “Are you certain you want him in your room? L could sleep in another room, and you don’t have to compromise his needs, my dear.” On the other hand, Roger had a skeptical demeanor when he opened the door but didn’t comment on the young detective being in a girl’s room. L was quirky enough, and being in Meredith’s room seemed like one of the “normal things” he would do.

What Watari and Roger didn't know was that, besides “behaving” to exchange for a change of having a more flexible working schedule during the holidays (as Meredith didn’t mind leaving a lamp for him if he wanted to work during bedtime) and observing Meredith from a closer proximity, L did indeed want to align his sleeping schedule with hers. Drowsiness seemed to occur more when he was close to her—an unexpected discovery. It might not be a good idea for his work, but just for the holidays, perhaps...

“It’s so strange,” Meredith said as she sat on her bed. L could smell her hair's scent - lavender again. She had just washed it, and the fragrance wafted through the room. Her black, shiny hair was in a more casual state. But he didn’t dislike it; in fact, he liked it more. It was different from her daytime hairstyle when she tied it into a ponytail or a simple braid.

They lay down on their respective beds, with a small lamp that Meredith had left for L in case he changed his mind and decided to work. “My classmates shared their memories of going to girls' sleepover parties when they were young. I didn’t see us doing something similar.”

“We’re not partying. We’re simply just sleeping in the same room,” replied L.

“I think that’s the point of ‘sleepover party’.”

“I thought you might have done similar activity with Kimiko or other girls here.”

Her answer was short. “No.”

“Why not?”

“I don’t think I’m close enough with them to do this.”

“Do you think we’re close enough to this then?”

“Do you?”

L turned and stared at her, pondering his answer. “We're... I suppose so.” From what he could remember, there were too many things they had done together to fit the definition of “close”. Sleeping in the same room didn't seem so special compared to all the other things they had experienced together as each other’s companions over the years.

The sleeping bag didn't seem sufficient to ward off the winter coldness that was creeping into the room. England was experiencing the coldest period before Christmas.

L sneezed.

“Bless you.”

“It’s nothing.” L sniffed.

She peeped from her sheets. “Is it too cold to sleep on the floor?”

“It’s fine.”

“There’s still space.”

His cheeks flushed pink when he realized what she meant. “I’m fine with the sleeping bag.”

“Oh. But you’ll catch a cold.”

“I’m rather healthier than I appear.”

He could see the disbelief in her eyes. After a few seconds, she crawled out of her bed, placed her pillow beside him, and folded her duvet into a makeshift mattress, putting it beside him.

L sat up. “What are you doing?”

“Sleep together. It’ll be warmer.” She crawled into her duvet and snuggled beside him.

“There’s no need to.”

“I want to.”

“Fine then, it’s better in bed than both of us on the floor. I’ll sleep with you.”

“Yay.”

It was another strange moment for L as he settled into her bed. The bed was rather spacious and warm. They lay together in silence, watching the ceiling above them, feeling both the awkwardness and the comforting warmth seeping through their veins and skin.

L broke the silence. “What do your friends do when they have a sleepover party?”

“Oh…They don’t do anything that you will be interested in.”

He turned to her. “Such as?”

“Ummm…I heard that they chat before sleep, and share secrets. It’s intimate.”

“We could do that if you want.”

Meredith glanced at L. “Huh? Well- if you're comfortable with that,” she responded, then turned towards him, waiting for his reply.

L pondered what to say. Secrets…information that was not disclosed to anyone are secrets…certainly not classified case details in this scenario. "Sometimes...” he began, “ you can only save a minority of people and sacrifice the others. When you don't play fair and aim to win at any cost, people die because of judgment and strategy. You choose who lives and who dies. Most of the time, it would be easier to ignore it and see everything as a puzzle or a game. That way, you'll be able to keep going, by sacrificing, but also making up for sins."

He continued, “I remember the monsters in my dreams from when I was younger—monsters that devour hopes and dreams, pretending to be human. Soon, I realized that I was that monster in my dreams.”

“It’s better for you not to understand this nonsense, as your hands would never be covered in blood like mine or burdened with the weight of people's lives.…”

His eyelids felt heavy to him. He wasn’t sure why he confessed those thoughts to her. Maybe it was because of sleepiness, meddling with his brain. Or it was the scent of lavender from her hair emanating beside him. Could that be the catalyst? L wasn’t sure, but the whole atmosphere was ushering drowsiness, drawing him into a deep, murky, yet oddly peaceful state.

“…L?”

All she could see was L, who had succumbed to sleep, his chest rising and falling with gentle regularity against the sheets. It was quite a rare sight for her, perhaps second only to Watari, to witness him asleep. She gazed at his sleeping face and checked if he could hear her. When she confirmed that he was fast asleep, she watched him peacefully sleeping for a moment before hesitating to share her secret.

"...I have," her eyelids lowered as she whispered, "I have."

Chapter 19: Christmas

Chapter Text

Winter’s daylight didn’t shine into the room until late in the morning, and as the light entered through the windows, making L’s eyes flutter, he squinted at the light and noticed the small alarm clock on Meredith’s bedside table indicating the time.

Ten in the morning. Not the latest time to get out of bed for L, but certainly the healthiest sleeping schedule to date for him, as he couldn’t remember when he went to bed the day before—possibly close to midnight. For L, it was unusually rare to sleep for long hours. He never thought he would. He never thought he could.

Maybe Watari was right, he did need more rest during the holidays. To let the mind reset.

But resting is boring, most of the time.

He ruffled his hair after sitting up in bed and surveyed the room. The bedroom was quiet, with the curtains half drawn, allowing daylight to shine in. Slowly, consciousness crept back as he remembered he was in Meredith’s bedroom and wondered how he ended up sleeping in her bed instead of the sleeping bag on the carpet. When he was fully awake, he then noticed that beside him, Meredith’s duvet was neatly folded, and she was nowhere in sight.

L scooted to the end of the bed and cracked the door open. As he did, the bustling noise of the orphanage streamed in, with the sound of children running, footsteps thumping on the wooden corridor, and chatter about Christmas activities. All the children were present, given the holiday season, and the house was alive with preparations.

Distance was the only thing he felt, himself being far, far away from the bustle, the happiness, and the excitement of others. He was unable to access those feelings. It wasn't that they didn't exist, so he couldn't access them; he did believe in those positive emotions, even after witnessing so much negativity during work and his life. Rather, it was he who couldn't perceive those emotions. He was a machine when he was working, able to work tirelessly without eating, sleeping or drinking. But outside of work, standing in the crowd, amidst all the hustle and bustle, watching others laugh, cry, and get angry, most of the time, he felt nothing. L was well aware that his inability to understand human emotions and hearts set him apart from others, making him not quite human. He was the one who wasn't human, which in turn made him feel like a monster.

L closed the door with a soft click. To L, it was just another holiday when Watari would clear out the schedule and take a break, making it the same as any other day in the year, with only the meals being a bit different. Festive food? Different in shape and taste from the normal meals and sweets he ate on an everyday basis. Festive activities? Not something he was particularly interested in participating in—more likely to observe passively. Counting down for Christmas with an advent calendar? He'd consume all the chocolates when he needed a sugar boost, not particularly bothered with how to use the calendar.

Meri must have gone out to participate in the preparations, L thought, as he reached for his bag resting on the low cabinet beside the bookshelf. With her not present, he didn’t feel any desire or need to leave the room and engage in other activities aside from work. He pulled out his laptop and power cable, walked to Meredith’s desk, cleared her textbooks and compositions, and settled his device there. He would have to wait for her to return to come up with something else to do, and currently, he didn’t want to wander around the institution trying to find her. Exposing himself to others didn't seem appealing to him in any way.

Sitting on Meredith’s chair, the knock on the door did not distract him from preparing to start working, and he responded with a short “come in” while pulling his knees up.

“You’re up.” Watari walked in, holding a tray with a plate of three scones and jam, with a pot of tea. “I checked on you around eight when I saw Meri in the dining room having breakfast alone.”

As soon as Watari placed breakfast on the desk, he instantly reached for a scone and stuffed it in. “I got up at ten,” he replied with his mouth full. “Where’s Meri?”

“Meri went out with the others to buy trinkets for the younger children. Some girls also proposed gift exchanging using their pocket money, I assume that she agreed on the idea and went out to buy some,” Watari replied while pouring L a cup of tea. “Do you want a dash of milk?”

L nodded and watched Watari put some milk in his tea. “Didn’t hear her mention about that yesterday.” Never knew she would gift exchange with others.

Watari sliced the scones in half and smeared some jam. “Well, she did participate in gift exchanges last year, but we were back on Christmas Eve. She had already finished shopping with the others by then, I suppose.”

L sipped his tea. They had indeed returned to Wammy’s House a bit earlier than usual, but he couldn't recall her exchanging gifts with others when he still lived there. It must be a recent development. Was there really a need for all that when he was here? He had come back to Wammy’s House mostly because of her, to see her. Otherwise, there was almost no need to return, as all his case files and everything he needed were transferred to his current location. Time was precious, and he was essentially clearing out his schedule for her, which was the greatest concession he could make.

…Or perhaps he shouldn't think like this. It might not be all about him. Watari was also deeply attached to the institution. Watari would…miss her. Maybe. L wasn't sure, but he knew well that the initial thought was something he should keep to himself—too selfish and potentially hurtful to her.

The current feeling was new, and L couldn't quite define it. There was a hint of regret for not waking up earlier and going out with her, and he felt a bit...down, he supposed. Even though he didn't always know what to talk to Meredith about or what activities they could engage in during their free time (as most of the time, she was the one who came up with something fun to do), L felt the need and desire for her to stay with him for a bit longer. When he was spending time here, for the holidays. At least make the most of it spending with her.

"What are your plans for today?" Watari pulled over a piano bench and sat beside L.

“Have a preview of the cases submitted before Christmas. Crimes don’t take Christmas breaks,” replied L after he finished the last chew of his first scone. Reaching for the jam-smeared scones, L dipped his second scone directly into the bowl of jam that Watari provided, and stuffed the whole pastry into his mouth.

Two days before Christmas.

Documents and papers were piled up on Meredith’s desk, but the case files didn't hold L’s interest today, not as much as the Jenga blocks he had played with Meredith on the second day after his return. Despite his lack of motivation today, he nonetheless managed to solve some cases.

For the last case, L pinned down the suspect’s current hideout and instructed the investigator to ambush at a certain location.

"Act immediately," stated L in a cold and calm tone on the phone, sending shivers to the head investigator, who promptly moved into action. In the background of the call, another woman's voice started to yell at the man over the phone.

“GODDAMNIT, RICHARD, IT’S CHRISTMAS HOLIDAYS! YOU WON’T LEAVE THE CASE ALONE, WILL YOU?! WHAT ABOUT DINNER- ”

But it was none of L’s business. “Good luck, Mr. Fayeman.”

L paused for a moment and added, “…and merry Christmas to you,” before swiftly hanging up.

The desk was filled with candy cane wrappers that he tore off, with him playing and twirling the last one, until it went flying toward the other side of the room and landing on the floor after hitting the walls.

L stared in the direction where the candy cane had landed.

It was the fifth day he had been sleeping and working in Meredith’s bedroom. Initially, Watari had informed him that Meredith was busy shopping with the girls, choosing trinkets for children under age 12, and assisting with various tasks. The time period of her absence in the room was longer than expected, so he decided to work on the cases to pass the time and distract himself from constantly wanting to catch a glimpse of the door, anticipating Meredith's return.

Shopping for trinkets couldn’t take that long, could it? He never understood the need for wandering aimlessly without a clear objective. Yet, her absence turned out to be much longer than he had anticipated. During meal times, she didn’t talk much and returned to the bedroom late, heading straight to the bath after gathering her things. They would still briefly discuss what they had been doing during the day, have a quick game of Chinese checkers, and then go to bed. L would continue to work in silence.

At first, he didn't give it much thought, assuming she was preoccupied with Christmas tasks. But when it was a different excuse of being busy, tasks, and always in a hurry. Every. Single. Damn. Time. He started thinking it was suspicious.

L wanted to ask Meredith, but she would come and go in a hurry, giving him no chance to inquire. Solving the cases at hand became a distraction from noticing her distance, even though they were supposed to be put on hold for the holidays. In the process, he ended up finishing almost all of them, inadvertently burdening the investigation teams and forces with extra work.

The creak on the door made him turn, and Watari entered with tea. It was then L realized it was already in the afternoon, and he hadn’t seen Meredith around since he woke up. Recently she also woke up earlier than him, or maybe it was him sleeping in too late.

Watari glanced at the laptop screen and case files that were on the desk. The handler knew immediately that the detective was “exploiting” the investigators that worked with him, again.

“Was there a need for making them work extra hours even though you know that the case was not so urgent?” Watari inquired while serving tea and dessert, and clearing out the candy wrappers.

“I was bored.”

“You could go out with Meredith.”

“She didn’t invite me.”

L took a look at the served dessert: cupcakes topped with festive decorations. He didn’t feel like eating them. Boredom was much more of a pain in the head for him than hunger.

A few months before, he could ask her anything and go out with her without a second thought. But now, with so much left to figure out and her abnormal responses to him, he realized there was much more hesitation when it came to interacting with Meredith. What was he concerned about? How she saw him? Whether his request was polite or not, whether it would hurt her or not.

"You could ask her, tell her that you want to go with her. You've always been unhesitant when it comes to expressing your questions directly. It's an advantage of your personality when used appropriately."

L gazed at Watari and didn’t respond. New feelings and emotions were crawling all over him as he quietly tried to immerse himself in his current state of mind. He should be fine with her absence, just like when he was at his place, just with Watari.

But no. L wasn't sure if it was the break from routine that bothered him or if it was because he was already at Wammy’s House, prepared to devote his time and energy to her, and she didn't respond in kind. He felt a need and desire to have her time solely for him.

It was a selfish thought, and he was quite astonished that he had thought of it unwillingly, but he couldn't control it. L bit his thumbnails and pondered Watari’s words. If he already sensed a hint of distance from her, it made asking her directly about the reason and asking her to spend time with him a challenge that needed courage.

Why is she more unpredictable than a criminal case? L frowned. He hated anything for which he had no idea where to find answers and no control.

Why couldn’t she just stay with me for the holidays like before?

Meredith sighed gently.

The time she spent with L this holiday drastically declined, compared to previous breaks when Watari and L returned. The fuzzy feeling and thrill of seeing him diminished in proportion to the time spent with him.

Good. By doing so, she might gradually rub away that feeling. Then she could return to normal, back to her old self and the comfortable relationship with L.

The trinkets were neatly packed in her hands, with a ribbon and golden wrapping that couldn't be seen through, creating a mysterious package. She remembered when Watari was in charge; he could memorize every child’s favorite things, interests, and needs. He had given her a fountain pen set and a cushion for L for long periods in front of the computer.

This year's Christmas small gifts and trinkets were chosen by teenagers on behalf of the institution's managers. Aside from classic Christmas trinkets, the main gift was a mini Lego set, capable of combining into a larger piece with other sets, accompanied by candies and chocolates. Roger didn't prefer to gift toys to individual children, but was willing to spend money on more games and toys for the gaming room, accessible to everyone interested. However, this Christmas, Watari was in the institution earlier than the previous year, so it will go his way, but adjusted slightly.

Roger Ruvie and Quillsh Wammy had different styles of running the orphanage, but Meredith wasn't affected by it much when he handed the institution to Roger.

She just missed Watari and L. In this world, they would be the only ones related to her.

“Why are you sighing?”

Meredith turned to the voice—Adam.

“Nothing—just slightly tired, that’s all.”

“Packing trinkets is quite tiring, especially with so many.” Adam pulled a seat and sat beside her. The other girls had gone for another round of shopping and wandering in downtown. Meredith decided to wrap the remaining trinkets for them.

“Yes, but don’t you think packing them delicately is great?” She smiled and lifted one of the packages close to her face to show Adam. Golden packaging with a red ribbon neatly tied, with “Merry Christmas” written in cursive on the package. Watari and Roger would use a marker to write the names of the receivers on the packages later.

“…yeah. Those who receive it would be thrilled.”

“Are you still able to receive stocking presents?” she inquired. Come to think of it, she hadn’t asked Adam how old he precisely was. Children under 12 were able to receive stocking gifts, and older children could write wish lists. As long as the gifts weren't too extravagant, they would receive what they wanted on Christmas.

“No. I’ve decided on my Christmas present wish list,” replied Adam sheepishly, one of the few occasions she had observed him smile like an actual child, unlike his normal stoic expression.

“Good, or else you’ll receive my badly wrapped trinkets,” chuckled Meredith, as she failed to wrap one in the same way and decided to undo it and try again.

“You’re doing fine,” Adam replied.

“Really?”

But Adam’s tone seemed to refer to something else. “I mean, try to maintain everything in the normal state. As it should be. It’s slowing down—”

Meredith was more puzzled. “What is slowing down?”

“Nothing.” Adam looked away. And for the rest of the day, no matter how she tried to make him explain, Adam wouldn’t budge.

Three hours and twenty-one minutes.

Or, to be more precise: three hours, twenty-one minutes, and thirty-four seconds. Counting from the moment he had opened his eyes today, until now - bedtime. This was the time she had talked and spent with him. L did not know why he could recall the time so precisely, as if his mind had split into two, with one part constantly and unconsciously observing and waiting for Meredith.

He gazed at Meredith's peaceful face as she slept. This time, L wasn't the first one to fall asleep. Sleepiness still affected him, inducing more drowsiness than usual at Wammy’s House. Yet, he wanted to stay awake a bit longer, to watch her in the quiet a bit more. The girl sleeping next to him was a silent sleeper—no snoring like Watari, not even the sound of heavy breathing. Just pure silence, making L wonder if she was breathing at all. He moved his finger close to her philtrum to check and confirm that she was indeed breathing.

He had hoped to explore the feelings he had been puzzled about regarding her, but Meredith seemed occupied with her tasks, denying him that opportunity.

And of course, now was not the time.

He continued to gaze at the girl sleeping beside him. The window curtains were not drawn, and as the clouds revealed the moon, moonlight streamed in and dimly lit up the bedroom, lit up her face. Her skin was like moonlight—a cold tone with a gentle glow, like a yellow-ish cream. L couldn't resist slightly stretching out his hand and gently pulling the strands away from her face.

L paused and tried to figure out what he was currently feeling. With each touch, he felt his heart skipped a beat. It kind of hurt, but more so, it was driving him insane. Insane may not be a precise word to describe what L was feeling, but there was no other explanation for him wanting to touch her again, more, and draw closer to her.

He moved closer and sniffed the scent from her. The faint scent of lavender, probably from her shampoo.

He came to like it. Maybe a bit closer.

Closer.

Closer.

Closer……Stop.

L froze. Every strand of her eyelashes, every hair of her eyebrow, every pore on her skin, was within his sight. He was inches away from her. The realization of how close he was to her quickened his heartbeat, accelerating with every beat. He quickly pulled back and settled back into the center of his pillow. The pace of his heartbeat, combined with the familiar feeling from when they danced, didn't dissipate as fast as he thought; it lingered for quite a while before finally subsiding and resuming to normal.

Then, he heard a soft, muffled sound coming from her, but he couldn't decipher what it was. He feared that it was his movement that woke her up. There was a slight shift from her, and then she returned to stillness.

A small twinkle emerged at the inner corner of her eye, soon disappearing.

Bad dreams? L wondered. He never heard her talk about nightmares before, only the goofy ones she would share with him. Like flying above the cloud by flapping her arms, or jumping into a pond and floating in space. Not once she mention about nightmares.

He wondered what she was dreaming about, what she had seen in her dreams. She had once told him that dreams contributed to healthy sleep, though he had mentioned that his insomnia resulted from past nightmares. It had gotten better as he grew older, but the habit of short periods of sleep continued to this day.

Watari’s words came to his mind. Ask her. Tell her. He should have asked her instead of waiting for her to talk about it. At least an attempt, or a sign for her, to express that he wanted to know more and that…he cared, explicitly. Whether it was the things she told him or the thoughts she concealed in her mind.

Meredith was sleeping in a fetal position, but maybe more crouched than earlier. With another shift, she nudged closer to L, at the same time clenched his right arm.

Bewildered, but L didn’t make a sound. Lying on one side, he continued to observe her.

“…don’t…”

The mutter was not audible for L to decipher, but he felt her grip slightly tighten. Another teardrop seeped from the corner of her eye. Has she been sleeping like this all the time, or was it just occasionally? There were still so many things that he couldn’t understand about her, about why she seemed to avoid him in the daytime, about why she didn’t talk with him about the secrets that lay beneath her mind, but they seemed to be jutting out.

Just ask her. But…how? How to express emotions when he himself doesn't understand the human mind and emotions, especially when he couldn't figure out what he was encountering in the first place?

All L knew for now was that he wanted to grasp her emotions. As he gently wiped away the teardrop with his free hand, he realized how eager he was to understand someone else’s feelings, to have complete access to her thoughts and emotions.

How desperately he wished, the monster that he considered himself to be, to be human when it came to her.

His heart ached once more as he realized that his struggle and eagerness to understand her emotions might not be known to her. This disparity was the source of his first feeling of loneliness in the passing days.

Just tell her. "It's okay to have secrets,” he muttered, his voice barely audible. Someday she might tell him. He just had to always be prepared to listen, that’s all.

"I wish I were the one you felt comfortable enough to stop hiding from."

It was late at night. Following a hearty Christmas dinner, Roger Ruvie waited a bit longer than usual, allowing the children to play in the common room for an extended period. Once they had settled into bed after his rounds of patrolling and checking every dorm and bedroom, he finally had a moment to sit by the fireplace.

Quillsh Wammy had already poured them both a glass of brandy and set up a chess game to enjoy.

Some moments later, Watari declared his victory.

"Checkmate."

"You won," Roger raised his hands, as if surrendering. With Watari’s small chuckle, they started to gather the chess pieces. "Still the best chess player in MI6, eh?"

"That was a long time ago. I believe that there must be someone who would play better than me."

"I doubt it. Haven’t seen anyone better than you," Roger took a gulp of brandy from his glass, "maybe L?"

Watari chuckled again, "No, he hasn’t beaten me in chess, yet. I wouldn’t challenge him for other games though."

"Busy with Christmas, I haven’t asked you about how work is going." Roger cleared the table and poured some more brandy into Watari’s empty glass. They clinked their glasses and respectively took another gulp.

"You can start first. Maybe talk about the two boys that wrecked the supercomputer."

"Bah, young boys are the same. But I have to admit, the two really are little troublemakers. Not only the supercomputer, they tend to try to break into every locked room."

Watari smirked. Interesting. "What are their names?"

"Mello and Matt. Bright boys they are. Matt is older, but there is no sign of him behaving more than young Mello," sighed Roger.

"It’s not your first time encountering little troublemakers, Roger. You’ll manage."

"Easy for you to say, Quillsh."

The fireplace crackled and popped, emanating a radiant golden flame. The two men sat in armchairs, amidst toys left scattered on the carpet by the children.

"Your turn," said Roger.

"Ah, yes. Los Angeles. I introduced K to work with Professor Nikaido. They'll be attending the annual AAI conference."

"Still not at ease about K?"

"Besides being calm and reserved, she can be ruthless at times. I hope Nikaido could handle her."

"I thought you were especially concerned because she was one of the few female graduates."

"Ha. Maybe. I suppose I do have a soft spot for girls."

"Gender favoritism, huh? You didn't worry about F as much," shrugged Roger.

"I am proud of him too. I taught him almost everything I know about espionage and marksmanship. If I were to compete with him at a shooting range, I might not have the confidence to beat him."

"You're just being humble. You know well that F still has a long way to go."

“Ha. We’ll see. I read the letter you forwarded me. Nice to know about F doing fine in Romania. Maybe next time I should go there and visit him.”

“You won’t. One L is enough to keep you busy 24/7. I am surprised that you planned to go to LA even if it’s straight after Christmas.”

Watari smiled. Roger surely was the one that understood him the most. “Favoritism or not, interpret it as you wish.”

Mentioning L made Watari wonder about the recent changes he had noticed. It wasn’t that L didn’t change, but rather how he had changed that concerned Watari. L asking more about human emotions made Watari wonder if something else was happening in the teen’s mind. It might be that Meri was rubbing off on L, which was a good sign and what Watari wanted to happen, but happening now after all those years? It was quite unusual.

Compared to L’s recent unusual behavior, Meri seemed rather normal. The last time she didn't see them off, but it was reasonable; after all, Roger informed him that Meri didn’t show any abnormal behavior after that day. She went to school on time, came back on time, minded her own business in her room, and engaged in the everyday activities of Wammy’s House.

Maybe the recent investigation has taken a toll on L, Watari thought. Too many cases involving the human mind and emotions. Perhaps assigning some finance-related cases would help alleviate the strain on him...

"But speaking of L," Watari hesitated, his gaze flicking towards the closed door of the common area, making sure that no other children were in the same space when he was talking about L. "Sometimes I feel quite powerless when it comes to teens.”

Roger arched an eyebrow. "In what way?"

“There's something unusual—might just be me overthinking. I remember feeling puzzled when F was his age too. Unusual requests and behaviors—teens do really have this in common.”

“You’re referring to him asking to sleep in the Japanese girl’s room?”

“Not that it's ‘unusually’ unusual, just that it’s the first time.” Watari pulled off his glasses and took out a silk handkerchief from his chest pocket to wipe them clean from specks.

“Everything has first times, Quillsh. We're still learning, as children always surprise us,” replied Roger casually. He didn’t find it "strange" for L to make such a request. Unusual children have unusual requests.

Roger’s reply amused Watari. “I suppose you're getting a hang of children, don’t you, Roger?”

“I have a great tutor,” snorted Roger, while taking another gulp.

Watari leaned back in the armchair and stared at the flames in the fireplace. “Most of the time, I consider the boy to be quite solitary, and Meri just being around. Positive impact I was expecting, maybe rubbing some human emotions and empathy on him. For so long and so many years, it was nice to see them as companions. At least that was the only time I saw the boy being…well, normal and humane, I suppose. Like a normal genius. Quite a strange description, but I couldn’t find anything that could depict it better. You haven’t seen him during work, have you, Roger?”

“Nope.”

“Bold and drastic measures, mostly clever. Sometimes to put into words quite cruel and… cunning, I should say. Might lead him to a dead end.”

“Sounds like K.”

“Much more ruthless than K, but also very skillful. Skillfully bold. K would go to the extreme, but L has some standards. His deductions and measures were meticulously calculated. And of course, showcasing his power and intelligence. The boy hates to lose, you know that.”

“Childish. Admitting defeat is also maturity,”

"I doubt he would ever do that,” chuckled Watari, “considering he rarely encounters defeat or challenge—"

Watari paused. There were some incidents when Meri did, in fact, beat L on some occasions… but not much, and mostly in fields that L was totally unfamiliar with. Mostly trivial things, Watari considered, but come to think about it, those were the only times that he witnessed L not having a tantrum over defeat. Perhaps Meri did, in fact, rub off on L.

“You’re thinking about Meredith?” Roger stared at Watari. It was an easy guess for him.

"Ah, yes. Sometimes she also surprises me on certain occasions. I must admit that she certainly is bright, but perhaps a bit too obedient compared to her peers."

"As if she was fawning?"

Watari nodded. "Yes. Not sure if it was the past affecting her, but as far as I know, nothing else could have been the cause."

Roger paused his liquor swirling. “Is that why you didn’t consider her as L’s successor?”

“Not really. I discovered this trait after the decision of not letting her be in line as a successor. Gender favoritism is more likely,” smiled Watari, while Roger replied with a dry cough.

“I always thought Meredith might be your secret love child, as you seem overprotective towards her.”

Watari raised his eyebrow in amusem*nt. “Do I?”

“Yeah. Like taking her to the shooting range, letting her meet with L, letting her enroll in a Japanese high school.”

“Ah. Roger. That’s not overprotective. That’s just deciding what’s best for her.”

"Favoritism," concluded Roger shortly. "Maybe the last one toward whom you still express your doting before L."

Watari wryly smiled. Roger wasn’t wrong; in fact, after Roger joined in running the orphanage, he focused on those who were brought in by him and let Roger look after the others. Only a few had been taken care of by him, and many, like K and F, were graduating. Soon, the younger children would not have any contact with him, except knowing that “Wammy” was the person who established the orphanage, but they might not recognize the man even if Watari was standing before them.

“I just love her smile. The first time I saw her genuine smile, it reminded me of the pink and fluttering ‘hanafubuki’ scene.”

Roger did not understand the term. “Which is?”

“Sakura petals falling like a snowstorm. A stunning sight to see, Roger. Spring in Japan, cherry blossoms blooming everywhere, I am rather fond of it. Perhaps we could take a trip to Japan in the springtime after we retire,” said Watari while rubbing his chin, reminiscing about the scene.

“I doubt that you’ll retire, Quill. You couldn’t even take a break after leaving MI6. You're the kind that would work until you're forced to lay in peace in the coffin.”

“Ha. Perhaps so. But I doubt that I could carry on with such workload much longer. Maybe another ten years I’m out of this.”

“And expecting L to be able to take care of himself after ten years?”

“After ten years he’ll be 27. I’m expecting at least some extent of self-management.”

“Then you can’t spoil him like you do now, Quillsh. Time to make him learn how to take care of himself.”

Watari raised his glass and toasted him, “I’ll mark your words, Roger.”

The trip to Los Angeles required Watari and L to leave England right after Christmas, leaving them no time to stay for New Year's.

And no time for L to analyze why she seemed so distant.

Meredith saw them off, at least it was for Watari. Standing in front of L, she was engaging in a conversation with Watari.

L didn't pay much attention to what they were saying, but continued to stare at her.

She was still the same person he had known for years, and L never anticipated that one day he would feel so... unable to reach her, fearful of touching her, as if his personality had suddenly changed overnight. The distance seemed to stretch between him and where Meredith was standing. Farther and farther.

Was it because he had done something wrong or had offended her?

Just ask her.

Was it because Watari and him leaving so soon?

Just ask her.

Not much conversation was needed when Meredith was in his room during his time here. They would sit quietly, each engaged in their own activities - him minding his business, her absorbed in her book or participating in shared activities. Such level of companion was enough for him.

The thought of her leaving or drifting away hadn't crossed his mind. Even when he moved out, they were still close; everything, except not sharing the same house, remained the same. Or so L thought. It was the first time he realized that she might also be distant, and he might lose her. Not in the 'having her and losing her' way, but more like... paths diverging.

It seemed like it was happening.

And it was too fast. He needed to buy more time, just a bit longer, for her to stay by his side, to maintain their camaraderie a bit longer, at least until he was prepared to face the day he had to let her go and live her life - a life he might not be able to participate in. Would he still be someone close to her when their paths diverged? Would she know that he does care, maybe more than she thinks? Everything she did was etched in his mind, and he appreciated it.

Just tell her.

But how? How could he express it in a way that wouldn't be awkward, a way that he considered himself capable of? How do people convey to others that they care about their thoughts and feelings? What he had previously done was evidently not enough for her to know that he cared. At least, that's what L thought.

“Have a safe flight,” Meredith hugged Watari, while the man patted her back as if patting his daughter.

The books. The books that Watari borrowed, conveying thoughts and affection… L remembered reading them—urgh, so mushy. Some even made him want to vomit. Not his style, and certainly not suitable for them, especially in his relationship with Meredith. How could he put the words into the right sentences without sounding creepy? None of the books had the perfect answer to the questions swirling in his mind; none of them could adequately address the problems he was facing with Meredith.

“Behave and listen to Roger. I know you will, my dear. We’ll return in mid-January, keep an eye on the text messages. Have fun at school,” said Watari. He then added, “anything you want to say to L, Meri?” while Meredith shook her head and parted.

L could see her pupils seeping hesitation and starting to drift away from him. Why? And how should he tell her that he does care about what she thinks about him and why she was distancing without being strange or creepy?

“Safe flight, L,” Meredith said, remaining in her spot, refraining from hugging him as she did with Watari.

Hug. L remembered the first time she hugged him when she saw Watari and him off, and how it lingered in his mind for days. Weeks. Months. Or maybe forever.

Just tell her.

“Let’s go, L.”

L clenched his fists. Screw it. Screw all what I read. I will do what I think is suitable for us. Play it by the ear.

With a step forward, he pulled Meredith into his arms.

It not only startled Meredith but also caught Watari's attention, her eyes meeting Watari’s raised eyebrows over L’s shoulders, equally surprised by the sight.

L pursed his lower lip, unsure whether to continue, before tightening his hug.

“Promise me to…Promise me you'll see me off every time, no matter what."

Chapter 20: Fireworks

Chapter Text

As if a fish had been pulled to the surface and out of the water.

There was no air for her to breathe.

What is happening what is happening what is happening what is happening—

Meredith tried. The fragrance of the detergent powder, the scent of cleanliness coming from L’s clothes—clearly laundered and ironed by Watari—was what she got. His coat and the texture of his white scarf were felt on her cheeks; it must be cashmere wool, very soft, comfortable, and warm. The same feeling that she experienced inside.

It certainly was addicting.

Confusion reigned supreme. Was it okay to feel such a flood of emotions and happiness? If she didn't push L away right now, she would be overdosed by this feeling and lost forever in this state and could never pull herself out; if she ever got used to this… she would become unable to get enough of it.

No. Meredith blinked. She can't. That would make her more emotionally dependent on him, with Watari as her only person she felt safe being dependent on. Now, adding another individual... and she knew, she knew that investing too much emotionally in others would only lead to heartache and painful outcomes. And L, with his career, or more precisely, his obsession, wouldn't be the best person to be emotionally invested in.

Meredith could feel L’s embrace tightening. He is as he is…so blunt in expressing his thoughts…How cruel of you to do this, L. Everything she tried to distance herself from was in vain: avoiding him during the day, pretending not to notice him in the corridors by engaging with others, and attempting not to invite him to join her in Christmas preparations. All efforts to distance herself emotionally from L shattered, lasting only a few days.

Broken by a hug from L.

Her hands — she didn’t know where to put them when she was pulled into his arms. Is it strange to hold back, or is it fine…

"Just for this once," Meredith thought. Just for this once, allowing the warmth of L’s embrace to seep into her being. The last time she had been in his arms was years ago, on the day she cried in front of him; overtaken by emotions that day, she had never really taken the mental effort to savor it.

Slowly, she leaned gently on L’s shoulders. They were much firmer and broader, quite a contrast to his slender appearance.

It was such a warm feeling, yet strange and ironic at the same time. This warmth emanated from a person who was usually socially detached, rational, and outwardly cold — a person who kept his emotions to himself to maintain his professional identity and secrecy, and she was well aware of that characteristic. However, what she was experiencing right now was a side of him so authentic that she feared him revealing it might harm him in some way. The possibility that him expressing such authentic emotions could expose him to danger that might be avoided by not doing so. And if L were exposed to danger because of revealing true emotions to her, she would take the blame.

Meredith could hear him whispering, hesitating but quite explicit. What am I going to do now, since you've made it clear not to ignore you…? But the person before her tightened his embrace once again, as if squeezing her would make her remember his request more strongly. It didn't cause her physical pain, and the warmth remained, but it surely tugged at her heart, an ache that made it difficult to deny his plea.

Yet, it was such a warm feeling, a warmth that was too inviting to reject. As for a solution to her potentially unrequited feelings, she decided she would think of one later. But for now...

She would rather suffocate than let go.

Adam said he wanted to see fireworks.

“I heard that we could see fireworks on the rooftop instead of the bedroom. The ones that will be set off at downtown.”

“You haven’t seen it before?”

“No.”

Children were having fun on the lawn, playing tag and chasing after each other, or playing ball catching. It was a rare weather in winter, although still cloudy and dim for most of the time in day, there was a short period of time when the day was bright and winter sunlight lit up the lawn.

Nice ending for the year 1998.

"Have you been up there?" inquired Adam without making eye contact, a typical trait she had grown accustomed to. Compared to L's enigmatic demeanor, Adam's quirkiness was just one of the many unusual traits among the geniuses at Wammy’s House. She sat on a stool she had taken from the common area, watching the boy beside her, who wore a dark green coat and was plucking the grass on the lawn.

“Yes, when Watari was in charge, he would allow children to stay up late to watch New Years fireworks.”

"Roger doesn't allow that," replied Adam, flicking away an ant that had crawled onto the back of his hand. The ant shot into the air and disappeared from sight.

“Sadly, no,” Meredith smiled wryly, picking up a snail from the grass and placing it in a safer spot where it won’t accidentally be stepped on. “Mr. Ruvie prefers regular bedtimes. Do you want to see it?”

“I like flames.”

“Fire can be beautiful, but beauty often hides within danger.”

Adam noticed there was a slight coldness in Meredith’s tone. “But humans cannot live without fire.”

“That's true.”

“Which means that some level of danger is necessary for survival.”

Meredith gazed into Adam’s sincere, innocent dark brown eyes. It was clear he harbored no hidden thoughts; these were his true feelings. She didn't disagree; she believed in taking risks, especially when life and death were at stake. The crucial question was why people chose to take risks: for personal gain, for the benefit of others, or driven by deeply held beliefs.

Flames had brought her survival and an end to those painful experiences, yet the memories still haunted her in the nights. Not once had she regretted her choices. She grasped this, but she also recognized it wasn't a topic she could delve into with Adam in great detail.

“You really want to watch the New Year’s fireworks?”

“It's fine. I'll just stay up late in my bedroom.”

That’s boring. Watching fireworks on the rooftop is much better than from the windows of the bedroom. It’s just something simple, and he should try it.

“I'll tell you what,” Meredith signaled for Adam to come closer and whispered into his ear, “I'll inform Roger that I have a stargazing school assignment to complete. He allows such reasons. This will give me access to the rooftop. You can then meet me in my room before midnight, and we can go to the rooftop together.”

Adam pulled away, his expression a mix of confusion and suspicion. He hadn't expected the teenage girl before him to suggest a method that involved breaking the orphanage's rules. "Is that acceptable?"

“Breaking this rule is harmless,” shrugged Meredith, while a sly grin emerged on her face, “We're not doing anything wrong, and it won't cause any harm to others. Just stargazing and watching fireworks. After all, who can sleep soundly with all those fireworks going off outside?”

Coming up with topics for Adam to talk about proved challenging because his schedule was different from the typical schedule, which Meredith herself and other children mostly shared. To name a few, recess time for Adam was not the same that Meredith had when she was the same age as Adam, and that many things that she developed were in free study. It was Watari who believed in potential of children and that they would seek out what they were most interested and master it. Basic subjects like mathematics were required. However, from what she learnt from Adam’s assignments that the tutors and professors assigned him, mathematics, science, and logic training had a greater rate in his studies. Not that Adam didn’t master them, but they were quite advanced considering his age and her own learning experiences.

As for engaging a conversation with those who don’t follow Wammy’s House schedules— she had spent too much time with L to know what he was interested in and what he would talk about. Chatting with L was much easier. Ideology and deductions were what L would come up to discuss, and there were plenty of case studies and investigation tactics that he would babble about when he was in the mood, sometimes even too much into the mood, talking right into her face regardless of her being quite tired of the subject. As for topics brought up by her, most of the time, L found anything she said about 'normal' life intriguing.

But at least Adam had equal amount of free time as the children from his same age for Christmas till New Years break.

“Anything you look forward to do in the New Year?”

"…Learn Japanese."

He seemed to be prompted to learn other things that he was much more interested in, as he had gotten much more free time than he usually does. Adam stumbled upon a collection of Shueisha's shōjo manga magazine "Ribon" in the library, which Kimiko had subscribed to when she was at Wammy's, and later donated to the institution. He became intrigued by the manga "Akazukin Chacha" and began seeking Meredith's assistance with the dialogue bubbles and translations during the current break.

"Only looking at the images without understanding the dialogue bubbles is causing me anxiety," sighed Adam. As he muttered, little clouds formed and then vanished. "I can't always rely on you to translate and explain everything to me."

"Don't worry. You'll pick it up quickly."

Adam was learning fast, with three days he memorized the gojūon and start to try and write them. His progress was much more faster than Meredith anticipated, but maybe it was average for geniuses…as she remembered L memorized it in a day, and could read without hesitation within a month.

The rooftop was cold and windy, with the freezing breeze probing any gaps that winter coats and scarves failed to shield. They had to ensure every exposed area was securely wrapped to keep the wind at bay. Adam's cream—yellow scarf draped unevenly on his neck, hanging loosely, offering little protection against the biting wind.

Meredith extended her hand to him. "Here, let me help you with that."

She took the scarf, refolded it into halves, and carefully draped it around Adam's neck. Tucking one end into the loop she had created, then wove the other end beneath the loop to fashion a distinctive knot. Adjusting the scarf, she ensured it was snug enough to keep the cold at bay without being too tight.

"There," she said, "That should keep you warmer."

Adam mumbled a quick “thanks” and continued to watch the night skies, waiting for the countdown and fireworks.

L was the one who proposed seeing fireworks on the rooftop a few years ago, she thought, as she also waited for the countdown. They didn't seek permission from Watari; instead, they simply sneaked up to the rooftop to watch the fireworks bursting in the night sky. It wasn't long before Watari noticed that the keys to the rooftop were missing and came looking for them. They ended up watching the fireworks together that year. Following that occasion, Watari began taking those who were willing to stay up late till midnight to the rooftop to watch the fireworks, although most children would fall asleep before midnight. L hadn't participated since then.

“You’re thinking about something?”

“Oh, yeah, I was thinking the first time I went up here with Watari and another…friend of mine,” she quickly responded.

“Watari really likes you.”

“He equally likes everyone.”

“I never heard you talk about your friends except the ones at school.”

“Well…I had some contact with K when she was here. Maybe you have heard of her? She just graduated not long ago.”

“You know someone that has a code name?”

Meredith nodded. Adam seemed quite surprised.

“Who else do you know?”

“That’s about it, really.” Being the one that children looked up to, mentioning her personal connection with L in person would only lead to unnecessary disturbances.

“If Watari likes you so much, he might give you a code name. You might be the next M.”

Meredith chuckled at Adam’s reply. "Don't be silly, Adam. Receiving a code name is not merely based on Watari's fondness," said Meredith, "To earn Watari's trust and the opportunity to assist with his assignments to make the world a better place, one must excel in their field and gain Watari's approval."

“Don’t you want that?” asked Adam, tilting his head. He looked incredibly like L when he does that.

Receive a code name. It never came across her mind before, and she took a moment to think about her answer. “Maybe, or maybe not. It doesn’t matter; I just wanted to make Watari proud, regardless of getting a code name or not.”

Adam went speechless for a while. Meredith wasn’t sure if he was thinking, or it was waiting for the cold breeze that came blowing in their faces to go away.

He continued. “Do you think some codes are better than all the others?”

“No—how so?”

“Like. In all the alphabets, only the name L has successors to be raised.”

“Code names can be passed down. If the code name user is—”

“Dead.”

That’s correct. “Or resigning from Watari’s assignments. Why do you ask?”

“My friend. He wanted to succeed L.”

A great blast of red fireworks reminded them of the start of the New Year, as they totally forgot the countdown. The red sparks of the downtown fireworks lit up the night skies, and lit up Adam’s face with a red hue.

Mentioning L made Meredith freeze, but she quickly regained her composure. Besides, after the policy of choosing L's successors, every child brought to Wammy's House looked up to L and could potentially become a successor. Rankings were determined by performance in the institution, reflecting the priority of becoming a successor. Who wouldn't want to be the best among their peers?

“Then he’ll have to work hard to succeed L,” smiled Meredith.

“…He works hard. I believe he will,” Adam muttered.

“Do you want to become a successor too, Adam?” whispered Meredith gently.

Adam turned and looked into her eyes. “Who wouldn’t want to be L?”

Who would want to be in the position of L if they understood what he dealt with every day? Meredith wondered. Not being understood, solitude, and dealing with world issues every day, with life and death decisions placed in one's hands, and the judgment of others' lives by a single person... If it weren't for L's obsession with solving puzzles and cases, her predominant feelings toward him would be pity and distress. And what she knew was only a part of what L was encountering; there was much more that remained unknown to her.

“It’s okay to be you, Adam. Being someone else is no better.”

Meredith couldn’t decipher Adam's expression. His eyes were blinking more—was it disbelief? His lips were pursed together, perhaps to quell a quiver of emotions or to hold back the words he wanted to say.

Adam buried his face in his scarf, and nodded.

Los Angeles, January 2, 1999.

L jolted awake, panting. His heart raced, pounding so hard it sent a sharp pain through his chest, to the extent that he could keep his head up. Pressing his hand on his chest, he tried to alleviate the pain as he waited for his heart rate to return to normal.

One second passed.

Ten seconds passed.

Thirty seconds passed.

After one minute, he finally could confirm he had collected himself.

Strange dreams, he thought.

Glancing around to reassure himself that he was back in reality: the crisp white sheets of the bed, the pile of sweets on the small desk to his left, and the large TV that could give him the illusion of being in a cinema. All of these reminded him that he was in a hotel in Los Angeles. His hand automatically reached out to the bedside, but it only met empty space and the coolness of the sheets.

The bed felt too spacious.

What had he expected? L ruffled his hair in slight embarrassment. Of course she wouldn’t be here. The Christmas holidays spent with Meredith had made him accustomed to her presence. Sleeping beside her had been rather pleasant. Drifting off was effortless, his mind unburdened. Everything felt calm, like floating in space—no noise, nothing to disrupt him until he slipped into unconsciousness.

He expected this “disrupted” schedule to continue for a few more days, akin to jet lag. Soon, he knew, his sleeping patterns would return to their usual rhythms, becoming irregular and something unnecessary once again.

Christmas break seemed to stretch on for L, as he had finished all the cases that Watari submitted and scheduled for the New Year, leaving him with nothing else to do when arriving in Los Angeles.

He got up and toured the room, expecting to be alone in the hotel room. Watari was away for the AAI conference, so K should have been there. L didn't know much about K, except that she was slightly older than him and excelled in science. Watari was quite proud of her accomplishments, having introduced her to learn under one of the distinguished professors at Wammy’s House, Kimihiko Nikaido. As usual, L didn't feel like meeting K or Nikaido in person. He had the option to observe the conference via the hidden camera on Watari's end whenever he wished, but today, he didn't feel the need to do so either.

Returning to the bedroom, L flopped back on the bed and stretched his arms across it, taking up all the space.

There was something that was bothering him in his head, but he couldn't seem to figure it out. It might be the hug, he thought while staring at the ceiling. The one he gave Meredith when she saw him off the last time. Was it enough to express that he cared whether or not she saw him off? When he pulled away, she seemed stunned, as if she hadn't expected it to happen. He waved goodbye and entered the car with Watari. Looking back at her through the rear window, she was still standing at the entrance of Wammy’s House, waving slowly, just like she used to.

Was that hug enough to bring things back to normal? Or perhaps, to make her interactions with him normal? But what was considered normal, when he was sure that they were changing?

L gripped his palms and let out a sigh, flipped over to reach for his cellphone on the bedstand.

[Dec. 31, 1998, 16:00]

Happy New Year.

[Jan. 1, 1999, 00:00]

Happy New Year, L.

He tried hard not to simper at the text message. On New Year’s Eve he had calculated the timing so that Meredith would receive the message at midnight on January 1st in England, even though in Los Angeles’s time zone the new year hadn't arrived yet. He received her message while watching the fireworks in LA from the balcony of his hotel room with Watari, and realized that she too, had waited for his time zone to welcome the New Year. He never thought that these simple texts from her would stir up so much warmth inside him, making him feel a bit foolish. Fortunately, Watari wasn’t around to see him simpering, or it would be too embarrassing.

L muttered the message. “Happy New Year, L.”

Immediately, he could conjure her voice, her tone, and if he closed his eyes— her demeanor, the faint yet gentle smile she always had, and the dark eyes that held a spark which he was familiar with, all before his eyes.

The dream he just had also had a vivid image of her.

It was a long and murky dream. Nothing could be seen, but he felt as though he were floating in water, as if deep in the ocean, too deep for light to penetrate.

Sounds, voices, and echoes of murmurs and conversations surrounded him from all directions. L instinctively tried to pinpoint each source, but they seemed to emanate from everywhere. They were distant, difficult to decipher, but resonated with a sense of familiarity, fragments of something long past, yet they slipped away, rendering his attempts to understand and recall them futile.

It continued for quite a while, and then those voices and sounds began to coalesce into silver sparks, forming strings that floated around him amidst the darkness. Eventually, he started to hear vocabularies, terms that he could finally understand. Some were speaking to him, pleading for his help to save someone, which must have been a memory from watching victims through a monitor. Others were asking for his assistance, and some were disagreeing with him, proposing strong dissenting opinions.

Each of them called his name, whether it was L, Coil, Deneuve, or any of his aliases.

Among all the voices and sounds, one voice stood out, calling his name. It was Watari's voice beckoning him from above, and he became aware that he was ascending, as if being lifted by buoyancy. Gradually, the impenetrable darkness unraveled, like fog dissipating. As he directed his eyes upward, he found himself surrounded by vast waters, immersed in the embrace of the blue hues with sunlight piercing through. The waters shimmered as gentle movements and subtle currents carried him into a peaceful state within the dream.

L continued to ascend, and as he thought he was about to touch those shimmering lights at the water surface, the surroundings soon changed and transform into a blank canvas, devoid of any defining features. Looking around, he was no longer floating, but standing in the midst of the whiteness.

Far away on a distant end, he noticed there was a speck, barely discernible.

With each blink, the speck became closer.

Blink. What’s that?

Blink. It seemed like…

Blink. A person.

Blink. Heart pounding.

Blink. Figure is drawing closer.

Blink. Heart pounding is getting more vigorous.

Blink. It hurts.

Blink. It’s—

Blink. Meri.

With each blink brought her closer to L, until finally she stands before him. He couldn’t say anything. He didn’t know why. Their eyes locked in a silent moment, hanging heavy.

And then she spoke.

「君を…見ている…」(I…see…you.)

She appeared incredibly vivid in the dream, permeating the depths of his subconscious. When she spoke those words, a sense of fear overcame him—a fear of what she might have witnessed. What aspects of his character had she glimpsed during their time together? Had she observed his coldness, his struggle to understand the human mind, or his at times morally ambiguous and despicable methods in solving cases? L had never regretted his judgments and decisions, but in that dream, the fear was about being seen for who he truly was, the darker side of him, and the uncertainty of how she perceived it. In the dream, he stood exposed before her, as though judged by an entity that could not be deceived or concealed. Subconsciously, he found himself incapable and unwilling to hide anything from her.

Altogether was able to make him jolt awake from sleep.

It dawned on him that he cared about what she thought of him much more than he had initially realized.

Leave it, L thought. There was no point in struggling with a dream. He sat up and strolled around, exploring anything new he might not have noticed on his first day in Los Angeles. The room was spacious and elegant, furnished with warm wooden pieces, a clean and functional kitchen, and a large TV complemented by a lengthy sofa. L often wondered if Watari booked rooms that were too large for the two of them. It would have been nice if Meredith could have come with them. Though he wasn't sure what she could do while traveling with them, she would figure it out during their busy moments with cases, he thought.

Beside the TV and the armchair was a tea stand that the hotel had stocked with fruits and some snacks. L walked toward the stand and reached for a piece of chocolate, unwrapped it, and popped it into his mouth.

It was surprisingly delicious. The rich aroma of nuttiness and cream, combined with a hint of bitterness, was perfectly encapsulated in this small piece of chocolate, and he wanted more. He then noticed that there was only one piece left.

He remembered that he ‘sort of’ accepted Meredith’s presence when they played chess the first time in his room. The chocolate that he placed in her palm before she left his room that day— she seemed to like it.

There were many things that he didn’t know he would unconsciously remember about her: how she liked her hair, how she liked to dress—aesthetic matters he didn’t really care about, but somehow he remembered. She had her own style, her taste, and somehow he seemed to remember them all. Maybe too much. Was it from all the observation from all those years? He didn’t remember picking those things up intentionally.

Every time L recalled anything about her, an image of her would form in his mind. It was as if there was a mental projector always ready to project her image whenever he thought of her.

She was... delicate. 'Fragile' wasn't how he would describe her. The secret she was holding, which L didn't know about, he had drawn to the conclusion that it was something significant and painful. And who wasn't at Wammy's? The strength they had had to match the pain curved inside them must be vast. Those who couldn't endure the pain of the past were bound to fall apart. But no, she didn't. Or maybe, not yet; L couldn't tell.

For the time being, he would describe her as 'delicate,' to the extent that he dared not to hurt her in any way. Was it acceptable for him to hug her? There was a slight hesitation when he did so, and a slight embarrassment when he reminisced about the moment after leaving Wammy's. While Watari didn't discuss the incident in the car, L could sense that he, too, was holding back the urge to ask about what was transpiring between Meredith and him.

L couldn’t provide a definite answer, either.

All L could come to the conclusion of was the realization of the extent to which he cared about her. It wasn't only because of their companionship for all those years. If it were merely that, he wouldn't start wondering how she would see him, how he wanted her to know his emotions. He would be comfortable maintaining the usual state of their relationship, but now... no. It was beyond that. The urge to tell her that he cared much more than she may know, the need to want her to have the same understanding and knowledge of how much he cared.

Then it came to his mind why he was bothered by something. It wasn’t really a bother, but more of trying to think of the meaning of this date—January 2nd.

It seemed to stem from a distant memory, perhaps from a past conversation with her. Like a passing cloud, it had dissipated, leaving no trace. Somehow L picked it up and placed it in the depth of his mind. And there it rested for a very long time, until it gradually came to mind, floated, like a bubble, and popped in his brain.

L reached for the chocolate, carefully placing it in his pocket.

[Jan. 2, 1999, 14:11]

Meri,

Happy birthday. LA is still Jan. 2, hope this still counts in time and not belated.

—L

Chapter 21: Lemon drops

Chapter Text

Hardworking people have a charm that is difficult to ignore.

“If the password hint is this piece of music, and considering that the password creator is Chinese, I assume that even though the hint is based on Western music, Chinese composers often use numbered musical notation, using numbers instead of notes. This means that...”

Meredith picked up the pen beside her and began scribbling on a notepad, creating a soft scratching noise that became the second sound in L’s room.

It was mid-January, and L’s room had finally been restored to its usual order. With the supercomputer removed, the room felt significantly more spacious than they remembered. Watari had arranged a mattress on the floor as a bed, using cream sheets that complemented the room's decor, as L didn’t like bedframes (which, he said, were unnecessary like socks). The old rug had been replaced with a larger, softer one, ensuring that any activities in the room would remain comfortable, even during the winter, despite L's room having a built-in heating system.

In the middle of the rug was a coffee table. They were currently sitting there, with her legs crossed, and L sat with his knees tucked amidst the scattered evidence pictures and documents. Watari had also positioned a large desk in the corner for L, in case he wanted to work. A plate of tarts, today's dessert, was in the midst of the chaos, along with another box of mixed hard candy.

“Using numbers that correspond to the notes, but also taking into account that this piece is in G major, which means there will be a slight change in the numbers. G corresponds to the number one, A to number two, and so on. So, we can conclude that the set of numbers is…5372451.”

Her deductions were explained in detail, step by step, to help him keep up and provide moments for him to analyze their logical validity. However, none of her explanations aligned with his field of expertise.

This was her domain.

The hanging strands of black hair couldn't mask her intense gaze and determined demeanor. Like sheer curtains that could not block the warm sunlight. It was utterly captivating and made it challenging for him to concentrate on her explanations. Nevertheless, he did believe that her deductions on this matter were logical.

What didn't escape his attention was the set of numbers: 5372451.

“And judging from the rhythm of this piece, there should be a slight pause after the 7 and the last two numbers. If the safe is designed to calculate time, you might want to inform the investigators to consider this when attempting the combination.”

Meredith added three dashes to serve as a reminder for the pause after those specific numbers, then tore the paper from the notepad and handed it to L.

“L?”

L clicked back to reality. “Thanks,” he said, taking the paper.

Although she scribbled, compared to his own handwriting which he would describe as “chaotic” and sometimes even Watari needed to double check with him, the written numbers on the note were neat and tidy, as if they were calligraphy.

“…I should have asked you earlier,” muttered L. This clue would significantly accelerate progress in his current case. With this new lead, he expected to wrap up the investigation within four days, making everything much easier.

Meredith swept and collected the eraser crumbs on the table. “You were in LA.”

“Doesn’t matter,” replied L, playing his lower lips with his thumb. “Should have asked you instead of relying on the task force, they were all guessing on the volume number and the artist’s birth year- ”

“Opus number.”

“Opus number, yes.”

“You still have to cooperate with the investigation teams. Establishing credibility and authority is crucial,” Meredith reminded, propping her cheek on her hand. “What do you need from that safe?”

L folded the piece of paper and carefully placed it in his jean pockets. “A piece of evidence. The police suspect the existence of a negotiable instrument that could substantiate the financial transactions between the suspects. The safe was confiscated, but it contains a self-destruct mechanism if it is forcefully opened. We need to crack the password.”

When his hand reemerged, he unveiled the small item in his palm. “In return for your assistance, I present you with this piece of chocolate that I obtained while I was in LA. Happy birthday.”

There was a flicker in her eyes that L wasn’t sure if it was happy or confused, but her respond made it clear that it was the former.

“I thought you wouldn’t remember. You never say anything about it,” smiled Meredith, taking the chocolate from him.

“Of course I remember. It’s you who doesn't talk about it, so I assumed you wanted to keep things low-key.”

“Yeah, compared with your birthday,” Meredith said.

It was as if each year's birthday cake grew along with him. Watari prepared a cake bigger than the previous year, probably following L’s own agenda. What she could remembered they had were chocolate sponge cake with a rich ganache, Black Forest gateau, a fruit cake adorned with delicate decorations and whipped cream, and a cheesecake with marbling as garnish. However, his most favorite was still the strawberry shortcake, always the best choice for his birthday celebration.

“Cake tastes better on birthdays and special occasions.”

She flashed a grin and examined the chocolate in her hand. It fell more into the category of pralines, but its shape was slightly uneven, likely melted because it had been in his pocket for a while. Maybe it was her taking extra time to figure out the password that caused the delay in him giving her the chocolate.

No, of course not. “Birthday gifts are typically given on that specific day,” teased Meredith.

“I could send this to you via post,” shrugged L, not seeing it as a big deal. “Perhaps next year.”

“For just one piece of chocolate?” Meredith raised an eyebrow. He was being silly again. But with a serious demeanor. And that made it much more hilarious.

L stuffed a tart in his mouth and muffled, “The hotel only had two pieces for one room. I ate one and saved the last for you. There's nothing wrong with sending a small item back to England by post.”

“Detective, you know that by the time the post arrives in England, you and Watari will have returned,” chuckled Meredith. It felt nice that he remembered, even though she herself didn't celebrate her birthday. She had informed Watari that she didn’t want to receive anything for birthdays after the first and last time Watari celebrated her birthday when she just entered the institution. Too much was given to Meredith, more than she could take, and there was no need for additional presents from the man who took her in. Therefore, she had no expectations of receiving anything on her birthday.

But maybe once in a while, to have your birthday remembered and celebrated, seemed like a nice idea.

“Go on, eat it,” nudged L.

“Now? Alright.”

She carefully unwrapped the metallic purple foil, revealing the chocolate, placed it in her mouth, and waited. The thin layer of chocolate melted within a few seconds, releasing the nutty-creamy filling inside, along with a burst of sweetness that made her squint.

L fixed his owl-like gaze on Meredith. “Do you like it?”

It was too sweet, Meredith thought. But, aside from the excessive sweetness, the flavor was sophisticated and exquisite. One could easily tell that it was high-quality chocolate. Certainly, England had fine chocolate as well, perhaps imported from Belgium or bonbons from France. It seemed that bringing a piece of chocolate all the way from Los Angeles to England was not necessary. However, the fact that he had this thought, restrained his sweet tooth, didn't gobble it all up when he was in LA, preserved it, flew back to England, and gave it exclusively to her, made the gesture even more special.

A birthday gift, he called it. He had never prepared birthday gifts for her before, and she never expected any from him. It would be a typical day, with them spending time in the room and engaging in activities together if it were the weekend, or simply minding their own business if there were classes.

The purple wrapping glimmered between Meredith’s fingers, inviting a challenge to conceal the tickles of a fluttering sensation inside, as if a troupe of butterflies were swarming within her. If she did not hold back, they would burst out into the open air. She wondered if L could tell from her appearance; if so, she must be too disheveled with joy. If that were the case, she had to conceal it, or else it would be too embarrassing.

There was a need to express something more than mere appreciation, to distract her from the edge of embarrassment. After swallowing the last bit of sweetness, Meredith replied, “It's nice, but I still don't understand how you can stand such a level of sweetness.”

“You know me for almost ten years and yet you still don’t get it?” frowned L, tilting his head. He just had to remind her. “Sugar is good for the brain. You need sugar to help you think.”

L took another lemon drop from the box before him and popped it into his mouth. Then he pinched one and offered it to Meredith. “Open wide.”

Meredith glared back at him. “Excessive sugar can harm your health. Scientifically.”

“I seem quite healthy,” he replied, slowly lowering the candy.

“Wait until you get old,” sneered Meredith, as she leaned into his ear and emphasized the word as if spelling it out for a first-time learner, “Diabetes.”

Her sudden action and the sound of her voice tickled his ear, causing him to pull back and scratch his ear sheepishly. When did she learn how to tease effectively? He simply couldn’t lose on this matter.

“If you use your brain enough, you won't get fat or diabetes.”

“Rubbish,” Meredith scoffed and backed away, but she still opened her mouth and allowed L to pop the candy in, and he placed the candy on the tip of her tongue. “I like lemon drops better. I’m quite surprised that you requested Watari for these. I thought you didn't like the sourness and that only I enjoyed them.”

“I missed this flavor when I was in LA.” L took another from the box and tossed it in the air and skillfully captured it after careful calculation of landing.

“Surely LA has lemon drops.”

The sweet swirled in his mouth, coating every inch of his oral mucosa with sugar. “They don’t taste the same. England’s lemon drops are better.”

The expression of suspicion was evident on her face and noticed by L. “It’s true,” said L, “I swear they don’t taste the same. Someday I’ll prove it to you.”

“Like taking me to LA?”

“Yeah. Maybe on vacation.”

“I have vacations, it’s you who don’t have vacations.”

“Vacations are not necessary for me,” said L before picking up his cup and sipping his tea, “But I could make time for you. Or maybe take you along with investigations if I’m going to LA again. You just have to take some day off from school.”

“Hmm… That’s too much trouble,” replied Meredith, resting her head on her extended bent arm on the table. “I’ll just wait for you to tell me what interesting things happened when you were abroad.”

Her round, sparkly eyes and her gesture made her look cute. The thought crossed his mind. L copied her gesture, resting his head on the table, and stared into her gaze. He wasn’t sure if he should tell her about the dream he had when he was in LA, and he also wasn’t sure if he should let her know that he was serious about taking her with him on case investigations. He meant it. It was not a random proposal or a joke.

But, out of all those uncertain questions about whether to ask, he found himself asking something else.

He crushed the lemon drop in his mouth into pieces, and swallowed before asking, “Why don’t you celebrate birthdays?”

Meredith’s expressive eyes blinked. She certainly did not see that question coming from L.

There were some occasions when she would make up reasons for not celebrating birthdays, such as not wanting to make a big deal, finding it too troublesome, cutting down on sugar, or not wanting others to spend money on the matter. All were genuine answers. In most scenarios, except for Watari and L, hardly anyone would know when her birthday was, as she never mentioned it, or she would reply, “My birthday has passed, so don’t worry too much about it.”

As she searched for any sign of frivolousness in his eyes, it was in vain. He was asking in quite a serious manner, indicating that he truly was interested in her answer, and not just for a random joke, reply, or tease. L’s gaze was sometimes like a black hole, as if secrets would be devoured and sucked out. She made sure not to be overly open about her true thoughts, as those secrets being pulled out would hurt severely. But today, his gaze was more like the night sky with stars in them. Not as terrifying or distant as the black hole, not the sharp look like a dagger that could cut through people wanting to approach him with intent. If looked at closely, she might be able to touch the stars in his eyes.

Meredith never wished upon a star in the night sky. Maybe she should give it a go. “Birthdays are meant to bring joy and happiness to those around you,” she mumbled, but still fixated on L. “When I was born, I did not bring that to anyone around me.”

At that moment, he was clueless about how to react. On most occasions, he would second-guess what others presented to him, be it in case investigations or even normal conversations with the investigators. Of course, the nature of his career would lead to such actions on his part. He highly suspected everything and doubted anything, unable to let go until it was proven honest or until he was proven right, meaning that the opponent was lying or not telling the truth.

But now, nothing came to his mind. Just purely receiving her statement, and thinking how to respond. How to package the words and form into a sentence that integrated his true thoughts on her response.

L didn’t blink, nor did he move. And then the words formed naturally, and flowed.

“But I’m happy. I’m grateful that you were born, giving me the chance to meet you in later years.”

His answer was the second unexpected thing for her. Her eyes slightly widened, feeling her heartbeat skip a beat. Usually, at times like this, she would turn her head away and refuse to look at him to avoid letting him see her blush, like an apple ripened before the eyes. However, perhaps this time she was too stunned to turn away, and her eyes remained focused on his iris.

Then she remembered that his gaze was night skies with stars all along. All the time.

Chapter 22: Watari's Day

Chapter Text

6:00 AM

Watari’s day started at this time period.

Discipline was shaped by his training in MI6 and the espionage field. There was no moment of sleeping in for him, even in the cold winter when most would prefer to stay tucked in their sheets. But not the old inventor.

He checked the time by taking a glimpse of the clock on the wall, remembering he went to bed quite early last night, around midnight. Reaching his mid-sixties, he envisioned his need gradually diminishing.

Perhaps down to four hours in the future, he thought.

In the old days, when he was active in intelligence, sleeping for a few hours, even minutes, and conserving energy with little sleep was the norm. It continued to some extent to this day, occasionally for urgent cases or when L was deeply immersed in his work and didn't sleep for over two days. On such occasions, Watari would be on call long hours whenever L needed him. But for most of the days, six hours was plenty.

He got up, quickly folded the duvet, made the bed as he always did, and stepped into the bathroom in his room for a quick shower.

6:20 AM

Watari examined himself in the closet mirror as he buttoned up his shirt and put on his suit. He always does.

He could wear something more casual, but he liked to be ready for any occasion. When in charge of the orphanage, several tasks needed to be done in person, and he had to contact people outside the institution face-to-face. Going back and forth from outdoors to the orphanage, a suit was suitable for various situations, whether indoors, outdoors, or during online conferences—nearly all situations where a suit would not be inappropriate.

6:30AM

He would call his current location the 'living room,' although he was the only one actively using the room. Living in that space. The armchair he occupied was beside the window, with a round table stand nearby. On the table, there was a cup of hot Earl Grey tea, which was the kind he preferred, along with a plate of biscuits and some jam. Today, he ate rather simply, not in the mood for a full breakfast.

Sipping his tea. Without sugar. This may be the time of day when he has the least contact with sugar. Watari himself does not indulge in many sweets, only a few pastries when having tea or coffee. Mostly tea.

He watched the steam rising from his cup. The current liquid might be the only common ground between him and L. At least L drinks tea and coffee. Chugs coffee. Relentlessly. With different sweetness levels.

Not that he hadn't tried to stop him before, but Watari soon learned that it was impossible to do so. Impossible for L to literally follow any suggestions regarding eating habits. It was a miracle that his body could withstand how much sugar and caffeine he consumed, all becoming fuel for the brain and mind without any side effects.

Geniuses not only have brilliant minds but also possess brilliant physical health.

7:00 AM

Morning routines include tidying and cleaning. Another thing that Watari had in common with L was cleanliness. He disliked dirty rooms. Where L stayed was quite easy to clean compared to Wammy’s House, packed with children and open windows for air flow. And dust. Not here in L’s house, as he hardly opened his windows and curtains, unless Watari insisted the room was too stuffy.

He would start from the corridors, the living room, his own bedroom, the kitchen, and lastly, L’s room. Cleaning was not a big deal for him, as he had invented a machine to help him with sweeping and mopping, though it still needed some adjustments.

Watari pressed the robotic vacuum, and with a soft hum, it went into action. It was a machine that he bought out of interest in the latest appliances when he paid a visit to the invention exhibition. But it wasn’t ‘smart’ enough—frequent problems with colliding with objects and an inability to detect furniture accurately, and the problem that Watari couldn’t stand the most—small areas left uncleaned.

Technical barrier. He had to make some modifications himself. But, of course, it wouldn’t be able to be commercialized, as he himself didn’t take costs into account. With his modification, he made the robot able to scan and detect where needed to be vacuumed and mopped, and then it met his needs.

As the machine hummed in the background, Watari continued to dust the furniture and wipe clean the windows.

Maybe in the future, it could integrate with a computer or some sort of artificial intelligence, Watari thought.

But for now, with assignments and cases from all around the world, and as L’s caretaker, he does not have the time to research or look into that.

8:00 AM

Eight in the morning. Watari finished other rooms, and all that was left was L’s room. The boy should be up by now, he thought, as he strolled past the corridors. Or hasn't slept yet?

He still occasionally calls the 179 cm teen "the boy" in his mind. Why wouldn't he? Seventeen, on the brink of teenage and almost an adult, his behavior was far from that of a grown man.

Watari doubted whether he would ever grow up. Maybe he's Peter Pan from Neverland.

He chuckled at this thought while strolling through the corridor.

8:15 AM

After cleaning L’s room, Watari recalled the words that Roger told him.

“Then you can’t spoil him like you do now, Quillsh. Time to make him learn how to take care of himself.”

Therefore, instead of pulling off L’s clothes and changing for him (which happened from time to time when L was too lazy to change his clothes on his own), Watari insisted that he do it himself, resulting in a grumpy teenager making a fuss about “I don’t care about clothes.”

But L upheld cleanliness, too. He eventually gave in, obeyed, and pulled off his clothes and put on the new ones that Watari handed him.

8:20 AM

Laundry. A whole basket of white long-sleeved shirts and jeans. More were hung on the ceiling drying rack, featuring a system built by Watari. Unlike normal automatic drying racks, it resembled more of an assembly line. With a press of a button, hangers glided down from the ceiling, allowing Watari to hang the clothes on them. Without stopping, they would then ascend automatically, take the clothes back to the ceiling, and arrange them neatly. In the event of a power outage, manually rolling the pulley would also do the job. Yet another creation by Watari’s invention.

White long-sleeved shirts and baggy jeans. That’s all L wanted to wear. On the day he met L, he was in that attire and continued to wear the same outfit to this day. There was a time when Watari wanted to change his outfits back at Wammy’s House, asking L if he wanted to wear something else that he had bought for him. However, most results were L pulling off all of them and throwing them on the floor and would rather be naked than wearing clothes other than a white t-shirt and jeans.

He said other clothes stung him. Watari had no clue why they did but still gave up on changing L’s attire. At least white shirts and jeans were fine. And winter coats and scarf.

Watari tossed the clothes into the washing machine. His own would be done separately, as L dislikes any other clothing washed with his. Suits would be sent out for washing.

When he reached for the detergent, he remembered another tantrum that L had. Recently, he stated that he dislikes the smell of detergent. Watari had told him he would buy new ones when the current one used up. L threw another tantrum about this.

Young boys, Watari thought.

I thought he liked lavender.

9:00 AM

The kitchen would be the place that Watari spends several times in one day. Walking back and forth from the kitchen, and L’s room.

Watari opened the cabinet and took out several jars of different types of candies. Should it be called the kitchen? More of a candy storage. L likes to work while eating, eating while working. Using tongs, Watari retrieved some sweets from the jars, one by one. After putting the jars back, he then manually skewered marshmallows, fudges, brownies, and any sweets onto a stick for L to hold without his fingers touching the treats.

10:00 AM

When Watari could finally sit down to work in front of his computer, located in another room used as a study, he was surrounded by copies of documents and some original documents that he brought from the orphanage. They were all organized neatly on bookshelves on both sides of the room. With sunlight streaming down on his wooden office desk, the first thing on his list was to check the emails of the Wammy’s House Organization.

Reports from current programs in Wammy, sent by numerous PIs and not limited only to England, but to all branches of Wammy’s House Organization worldwide. Most of the reports would be handled and supervised by Roger, but Watari still took part in decision-making for the most critical programs. Other administrative matters that Roger didn’t have the authority to approve, such as taking in gifted children, a few governmental-related matters, and significant financial judgments and decisions.

Decide whether the child was suitable to take in, what resources he or she might need, and what road the child would take, considering what they could contribute to the world.

All to make the world a better place.

Watari had faith in these gifted children to have a positive impact on the world.

Like those who were previously given a code name.

Like L.

11:00 AM

Time to make lunch. Outside of Wammy’s House, with only the two of them, everything falls on their shoulders—mostly Watari’s. Naturally, he handles the cooking and household chores. He doesn’t expect much contribution from L beyond being immersed in crime investigations.

L does express interest in other areas. Basic knowledge of each field that he had learned when he was young in Wammy’s House (although compared to his peers, none of what he knew was basic). He learns quickly, utilizing online resources and requesting books on specific subjects, primarily for the purpose of solving crimes. Such as mechanics and assembling gadgets he needs. Sometimes, it's a custom appliance made for the investigation team, with a brief design instruction, and if necessary, the first one made by him as a sample. The rest was then carried out by technicians trusted by Watari. These custom tools were sent out for investigations, ensuring the secrecy of L. Investigators have no possible way to know the identity of their commander aside from his intelligence.

However, aside from these initiatives, L showed no interest in anything else. He was mostly locked away in his room, seated in front of the computer with several screens shining before him. His room is spacious enough for a twin-size bed, a wide desk, a wall of documents and folders organized by time and alphabetical order, and another wall filled with books that he can flip through if he needs to look into something. In the same room there equipped his own bathroom that was big enough for a bathtub and a separate shower area, along with the human washing machine that he frequently used. As long as Watari was close, he could live forever in his room without going out.

Watari was genuinely worried about this.

12:00 Noon

With the effort put in by Watari, accompanied by plenty of struggles and challenges, at least L had balanced, normal meals on time. Otherwise, he might search for candies and anything sweet when he felt hungry or needed sugar. While the human body cannot function solely on sugar and caffeine (even if L insisted that he could, to some extent implying that he was immortal and immune to disease), Watari had to admit that L's body could handle high blood sugar without any health issues or cavities.

Not only “normal genius children” were taken into Wammy’s House. Those who had quirks and unusual talents that could not be accepted totally or fit in. Those whose talent lacked sufficient resources to fully unleash their gifts, and that ordinary institutions could not afford.

Among them, L was much more exceptional. However, some behaviors and traits observed by Watari were still quite common and typical of younger children and those of the same age as L.

Today's lunch: a sandwich with ham, rocket leaves, mayo, and egg. Served in L’s room, placed right in front of him.

The boy picked up the bread and selected out the rocket leaves one by one.

“Greens are equally vital for health, L,” said Watari, watching him picking out the greens.

"Rocket leaves should be banned," mumbled L, not affected by Watari’s words, as he would not be satisfied unless he finished picking them all out.

2:00 PM

A short break from investigations. A quick game of Chinese chequers.

For the seventh time, the boy insisted on having another round. It was a relatively simple board game for them without needing to take much time to think, and the game always ended fairly fast- one round would end within 5 minutes, as they both took their steps following as soon as the other one finished.

Watari glimpsed at the boy before him while he made his move. They played in silence, with only the faint tick sound that when they moved and placed the chequers on the board. Out of ten games, Watari would manage to win four, relying on a mix of luck and significant effort.

I’m getting old, he sighed inside. Meanwhile, L had already made his move and urged Watari to respond. He made his final move, but L's chequers were already back into home, signaling another victory for him.

“Well played,” said Watari.

“Another round,” replied L, turning the board.

“All right. This has to be the last round.”

“Then switch to chess.”

He is still in the mind zone of playing. “That’ll take up too much time.”

“I will beat you this time.”

Watari smiled. The boy still hated to lose. But he knew that winning easily didn’t give him the satisfaction that he needed, either. He pulled out the chess set from the drawer nearby and together they set the board. It would be a tough game, as he was barely managing to win L nowadays.

I look forward to the day he wins me.

3:30 PM

Strange things that teenagers would do. Watari had seen many and was quite accustomed to L's behaviors.

“What are you doing?” Watari walked into the room and saw L doing a handstand by the wall, with papers scattered on the floor.

“I want to read the words without any hesitation even when I’m doing a handstand, even if the words are upside down.”

Perfectly normal. “Suit yourself,” said Watari, placing afternoon tea and dessert on the desk.

4:00 PM

Continue to answer emails and case requests. L, Deneuve, Eraldo Coil, three detectives but, in fact, all the same person. With a strict cybersecurity network, they used different emails and domains as contact information, ensuring that others could only contact through the provided method and not find out anything about their identity.

L specialized in the criminal investigation field. Deneuve was an information gatherer and dealer. Eraldo Coil was the top in locating people and would take any job as long as the money was good. Three identities, three different images presented to the world, yet all the same one person.

Watari scrolled through the emails. Most of the subjects were typical.

He then paused his scrolling at one email, reading the subject. A mail sent to Eraldo Coil. He clicked opened. The money was good, a very substantial amount and the request was one that he highly expected that L would be interested in.

Cases were selected and filtered to meet L’s standards accordingly before they entered L’s view, and then L would pick out the ones that he wasn’t interested in. Minor cases. Trivial cases that could be left for other detectives. Money that wasn’t good enough. And some cases which would be a threat to Wammy’s House and discovering L’s identity.

To: Wammy’s Organization, [emailprotected]
From: Yamasaki International Insurance Co., [emailprotected]
Subject: Request for Assistance on Nanami Family Fire Incident Investigation
Attachment: Yamasaki_Nanami.pdf

Some cases were irrelevant to L. Not all cases would be in L’s hands.

Not when Watari was in charge.

5:00 PM

Routine walks to the nearby park for a breath of fresh air.

By five in the afternoon, the laughter and play of children in the playground would have ceased, parents hand in hand with their children heading home, leaving the area mostly deserted.

L’s favorite spot was the swings. He mentioned it once, Watari remembered. He liked the feeling of balance when he squatted on the swing seat but did not enjoy swinging itself, saying that it was too much. Most of the time, he would just squat on the swings, watching the clouds disperse in the sky with the wind. Crouching on the swing might have been considered dangerous for anyone, but he did it perfectly fine and balanced. Watari would have been more concerned if L ever chose to sit properly.

Sometimes he still plays tennis, although there wasn’t an opponent for him. He would just serve, again and again. Powerful servings, they were. It would be interesting to be his player on the other side. Sadly, Watari did not know how to play tennis; therefore, he could not play with him. Maybe he would meet another person someday to play against him. Maybe he would meet someone who could beat him.

Watari continued to observe as L gazed up at the skies.

I do hope one day he will meet someone like that.

6:00 PM

Supper.

Tablecloth, cutlery, napkin, glass. And fresh flowers in a small vase, of course. All were chosen with his own preference of style- Watari’s, of course, as L never required or cared about such things. But it was still nice to see aestheticism and sophistication in everyday objects- delicate teacups with decorative designs. If Watari ever had a collection display sale of the objects that he chooses, it sure would be one of the best select shops in England. Maybe he should open one after he retires.

But that wasn’t the thing that he was concerned about currently. The man paused, steak knife in hand, and furrowed his brow at L's proposal.

"Phone calls with Meri?" Watari inquired, surprised. It wasn't something L typically engaged in. It had been so long since he could recall L willingly communicating with someone for reasons other than investigation. Giving Meredith a cellphone seemed more like an expression of family affection or perhaps a sign of a close relationship. But not for the purpose of what L was going to do.

"Yes," L replied bluntly, his mouth full as usual.

"Take your time," Watari reminded him, concerned that L might hastily consume the food without properly chewing.

Watari resumed his steak, casually asking, “I thought the password was not urgent.”

Although it was crucial, there was other evidence that should be gathered while they could get an expert to crack the code or unlock the safe without triggering the self-explosive mechanism.

“There’s no reason to procrastinate if I could have had the answer figured out earlier. I should have just called Meri for assistance,” said L after swallowing his food.

“Then it has already been figured out. Is it necessary to call her?”

L mumbled a short: “Yes.”

The boy always tells lies. He lies through his teeth; telling a lie is like the act of breathing. It was that easy. Watari had seen it countless times while standing by L during investigations. Despite that, Watari could usually discern between truth and deceit, at least most of the time.

Recently, it had gotten harder as the boy mastered the skill of deception more as he aged.

"You're not seeking permission; you're stating your intentions, aren't you?"

He knew the boy too well. The tone certainly was not asking for permission but actually an order.

"Correct. I want to change things and establish new rules.”

“I see,” sighed Watari, “then make sure your call fits her schedule.”

As long as he didn't receive complaints from Meredith about L bothering her (which rarely happened, though it occurred occasionally when they were younger and L would distract Meredith from her academic studies, and then he had to step in), Watari assumed everything would be fine.

8:00 PM

Sometimes Watari would wonder what was happening in L’s mind, even if he was the closest person to L. One cannot fully understand another. Therefore, people have to make efforts to attempt to understand to the fullest extent possible.

Does he ever feel empty inside? Does he feel lonely? Watari was certain that despite his dead-fish eyes that concealed emotional waves, in the depth of the young detective’s mind, there was life. Not dead but alive. And that was why Watari made the decision to take him in when he first met L. If not one single spark of flame remained in the ashes, then there was no possible way to bring the fire back.

You need flames to carry on a painful past and be able to face suffering in the future.

Often, Watari wondered about those questions when he was beside him. When they took a trip to the art gallery, watching L tilt his head to have a better look at the painting, as if changing the angle of the view would reveal something different. When he played tennis alone on the court. When he sat in silence, the screen lights shining on his profile. L was not talkative when he was a boy. Even in Wammy’s House, if he encountered peers in the common area, in the hallways, not even a greeting, nor a small “hi” when passing by others, would come out of his mouth.

Companions were few, maybe only Meri.

Will he find a person who could know what was happening in his mind? Will he find another being with whom he could communicate on the same intelligence level?

Watari wondered.

10:00 PM

“Watari.”

Watari raised his focus from the book that he was reading. “Yes?”

“This person,” L began, picking up a pile of documents that had a man’s profile, while Watari closed his book and walked to L’s side. “Finance his family and bail him out. I see that he would be a great investigation partner.”

Watari took the folder from L and read the files. Thierry Morrello.

"A professional con-man?"

Contacts with the underworld were as crucial as cooperating with the police, and Watari saw such contacts as no big deal. However, in most cases, L would not go so far as financing one's family. Perhaps it was an attempt to win over this person to work for him, but it was surely an exception. Usually, they would exchange information or money to have access to underworld resources. With the reputation of L and the abilities of his other identities, cooperation with him was valuable enough for the underworld.

“Yes. I see his profession could aid us in investigations,” replied L before taking a sip of his tea.

Of course. Watari scanned the files, checking everything he needed to know. The offenses ranged from minor instances like honey traps to major ones that could almost impact the political status of a country, along with numerous other crimes. It was enough to ensure that Morrello would serve a lifetime in prison.

"While the evidence indicates that submitting it would result in a lifelong sentence for him…Initially he was apprehended due to internal conflicts within the New York mafia. Betrayal by his associates,” L muttered, scribbling with a pencil on a blank piece of paper. “Imprisoning him would not only be a waste of his time and skills but also a missed opportunity to utilize his capabilities."

Redemption? "It's hard to believe a professional conman would end up in the hands of the prosecutor due to betrayal in the mafia," commented Watari, placing the file back on the desk.

"Maybe he isn't as bright as I initially thought," L smiled wryly. "I suppose that working for us might help him become brighter."

He then added, “And from now on, I will refer to him as ‘Aiber’.”

Watari remained silent. There was a peculiar feeling, a feeling that occurred occasionally. It was akin to observing something rare, something so uncommon that it contradicted what others might expect. He had heard numerous remarks about how others perceived the detective before him, particularly in the realm of investigation and police work.

A cold-hearted armchair detective, many were envious of his talent or achievements in the detective field. The realm of investigation seemed to attribute all credit solely to him, overshadowing some embittered investigators. The name of L was too great, stealing away the attention.

Watari didn't pay much attention to these labels, and L didn't care about them either; none of them truly defined him.

To Watari, L was more like the paintings they observed in the art gallery. Strange, bizarre, yet fascinating. Like a hedgehog, challenging to approach, but, just like a hedgehog, with a soft, tender, and warm interior. It wasn't something that showed often, even to Watari.

“Now, if you may excuse me, I will now make the call to Meri.”

It seems that this peculiar feeling has occurred more frequently recently, as if the boy were learning from another being, softening his cool demeanor and seeing the world more gently. Watari doubted whether it had anything to do with L’s recent unusual behaviors and requests, but most seemed harmless and not a big deal. Describing the subtle transformation he was witnessing was challenging, and even harder was predicting what L would become.

Watari remembered those who lacked any life in their hearts, their hollow eyes revealing no soul inside. He would refer to them as robots, machines, moving corpses, or, in a fictional way, monsters. Many of those remarks were also made by others, commenting L.

But L was obviously not like that. L was undeniably human. And a soft and gentle one at that.

That tenderness allowed him to face and witness the pain and suffering in the world and deal with complicated cases, saving thousands of lives and families, even though he himself did not have one.

Watari wanted to do his best to preserve that.

Deep in his heart, he wished that aside from him, another being could guard L’s tenderness toward the world, enabling him to preserve that conserved kindness.

Watari nodded and exited L's room.

Just one more person. Just one more.

Chapter 23: Sequela

Chapter Text

Time seemed not to apply to L, as if he and the space where he was sank into an infinite loop. The room remained the same, always dim, with the curtains closed, blocking the sunlight and rendering it impossible to discern whether it was day or night. The devices worked tirelessly like the detective living in the room, screens flashing 24/7, rarely powering down. Functioning similarly to a machine, L never required regular sleep and worked till he felt like resting. Not that Watari never reminded L that he definitely is not immortal, and even his computer’s CPU might not be able to operate forever without having some time off, but the detective always insisted on solving one more puzzle, finding one more clue or piece of evidence, rendering Watari’s suggestions futile. Over the years, Watari would absently remind L of taking time off, but not with much expectation of the detective following.

One could say that L never has a 'schedule.' He works until he can't fight his biological clock, but never according to the physical one that hangs on the wall, rendering the device almost decorative rather than functional. Ordinary days involved working overnight and monitoring the entire interrogation progress with the police. Although Watari tried to remind him that such interrogations might not be legal, it was out of L’s concern. After all, the suspect agreed to be interrogated at night, whether due to L’s persuasion or the police's initiative.

He never considered breaking this loop initially. At least not for his own affairs. Flexibility and efficiency were more his style. However, not everyone could adapt to his schedule-less way of living. For investigation partners, most had to accommodate his methods, as he rarely made concessions for others.

But she said she could only answer his calls at 10 at night. Right in the middle of his typical ongoing working hours.

He lay face up on the sofa, staring at the phone screen showing that the call had just ended.

Current time: 10:21 PM. Phone call duration: 19:52

No other time could Meredith answer the call. He was well aware of her schedule. Classes the next day, and if earlier than ten, she would be studying or still outside Wammy, and later than ten would affect bedtime. L had promised her, or, more to Watari, that his contacts would not disturb her schedule. Aside from weekdays, her weekends were busy if L did not return to Wammy’s—studying, helping in the orphanage, and engaging in her own activities. In previous calls, he had complained lightly that she was cramming too many activities into one day. Occasionally. But she would counter with the fact that he didn't return to Wammy’s House as often as before, leaving him speechless. "Fierce girl," he muttered once, and she huffed and hung up, prompting him to make another call.

L closed his eyes, recalling her voice: 'If you miss me, then visit Wammy’s more.' In her dreamy tone, often present during their phone calls as she lay on her bed. He could almost picture her smiling on the other end, enticing him to prolong the conversation. Unsure if she were jesting or teasing, though she knew he wouldn’t act on it, he sometimes wanted to set aside his work and return to the orphanage, if only to prove his sincerity.

If he ever did, he imagined he would bump into her in the corridors heading towards the library. Arms with books she wanted to study, with one novel for recreation, Meredith would appear surprised, perhaps stuttering, as she asked why he was there. Casually, he would shrug, hands in his jeans’ pockets as usual, and answer, ‘You asked for it,’ concealing his true intention, pretending it was merely to show he took her words seriously, even though he knew it was all in good humor.

He made sure to end the conversation within 20 minutes. However, it seemed that he broke his principles several times—starting with 10 minutes, then 15 minutes, and now up to 20 minutes. Not that he didn’t want to talk to her- conversations were pleasant, and hearing her voice on the phone was slightly different than hearing her in person, but nonetheless, it was still her. 20 minutes was not enough, and he anticipated expanding it to 30 minutes. For now, he had to try to make it in 20 minutes.

“Times up. You hang up.”

The voice from the other side answered. “No, you hang up.”

“No, you,” replied L, with a smile curving around his lips. This happened numerous times, and he enjoys this little bargain.

“No, you hang up. You were the one that said you have work to do after this call.”

None of them wanted to give in. He figured out that when it was her, he would give in much more things than he knew himself would.

“…Fine then.”

The screen dimmed again, and L rested his hand on his chest. He never liked the feeling of being the one to hang up the phone, even though he knew well that time limitation was crucial. Whenever they had their routine call, a small ache would appear in the middle of his chest, not burning or making it hard to breathe, but rather like there was a hole, and he could feel the airflow past the burrow. It would gradually grow as if it served as a reminder, reminding him of the time limit. And the ache would extend and reach its peak when he ended the call.

The room was quiet, with only the clock ticking on the wall. He took a glimpse at it, ten thirty. He should get up now, continue his work. but he didn’t feel like it. Limbs were heavy, reluctant to leave the sofa, and that ache hadn’t dissipated yet.

L closed his eyes again.

“Watari said you will be busy.”

“Yes, I suppose I could have an update from you.”

“Oh- well, Roger caught the flu and was quite tired for some days- "
“Some children said that they wanted to plant more flowers on the porch- ”
“There’re some lily on the valley blooming in the back garden, maybe you will have a chance, and we could take a look at them; you should see those white flowers-”
“Midterms in school were quite easy, perhaps only the level of 12-year-old courses in Wammy’s- ”

Most of the time, it was her talking, and he encouraged it. She would ask about his day; most of the time, he would mumble, ‘It was as usual.’ But it was not. There were so many things to tell her: cases, how ignorant the police were, how he solved the latest case. The urge to share with her didn't decrease, but for some reason, he felt like instead of talking, with such precious phone time, he would rather hear from her more.

Anything she said was interesting. Literally anything. From the recent calls, those tiny bits of her life that he hadn’t had the chance to take part in were interesting and were enough to give him the same amount of steadiness and ground as when he solved a case or found evidence. Maybe not the same amount of thrill, but still- he finds it fascinating.

Apart from the ache, he also noticed that the content feeling would make him quite drowsy when talking to her. Not out of boredom, he eagerly wanted to hear her voice, but the drowsiness seemed to come from more of a relaxed state—the same feeling he experienced when he was in Wammy’s. Work-home boundaries never apply to him, as the same place was where he sleeps, eats, and works, all in the same dim room surrounded by computers and documents. If he had to call somewhere home, then it would be Wammy’s, although now without much need, except the only reason to return was to see Meredith, he needn’t return. Still, it should satisfy the definition of home.

That relaxation he encountered on the phone with her was the same as when he slept beside her during the Christmas holidays. He couldn't understand. And he couldn't allow himself to be drowsy; he still wanted to continue with investigations. Limiting the time was a way to prevent himself from eventually falling asleep.

Yet this time, he still couldn’t fight back that drowsiness caused by the phone call.

In his murky subconsciousness, he seemed to see her again; knees bent as she sat amidst a picturesque field of delicate yellow flowers unfamiliar to him. The sunlight bathed her face, and she closed her eyes, not to shield herself from its rays but to bask in its warmth. She looked like a kitten hiding in the midst of the flower field in her cream-based yellow-dotted floral dress, which he couldn’t recall having in the closet.

As she turned her face, he noticed a petal teetering on the edge of her nose, prompting a chuckle as he tapped his own nose to signal its presence. With a gentle puff of breath, she blew the tiny yellow dot away and rose to her feet.

She called his name, beckoning him to see and wear the flower crown she had just woven. Responding to her call, he walked towards her, but soon he quickened his steps. The excitement to see her, to be able to touch her, was like electricity shooting in his veins. His desire to be close to her also seemed to convey to her, and she started running to him. But soon, he realized they were not coming close no matter how hard he ran, breaking all restraints. Neither of them could reach each other.

It was a never-ending distance between them.

He slowed to a halt, watching her continue to run as if caught in a repeating scene from a movie. A familiar ache surged in L’s chest, forcing him to bend down to ease the pain. Before he could raise his head to see her once more, he was abruptly awakened from the dream, back in his dim room.

The ache persisted, and the prickling sensation from the call came back, even more intense than before.

What was this feeling? Was it anything that he studied, read, or knew? L clenched his chest, trying to ease the tug. While still in pain, he tried to find the answer to his symptoms in his mixed-up mind, with thoughts running fiercely. Chemistry? Biology? Sociology? Psychology? Anything, as long as it could give him an explanation of what he was going through.

He tried to calm down by shutting his eyes, but then he saw her in his mind: every 12 centimeters, she was depicted. L envisioned her in the flower field, in the library reading beside him, and the scene of them dancing. He knew secretly that she hated swallowing pills and preferred powdered medicine when she caught a cold. If there were no alternative medicine, she would frown and swallow the pill regardless of size, often having a bad mood all day. He remembered how she would pick out pickles from her plate and hide them under leftover food scraps to conceal that there was something she didn’t like to eat. She would unconsciously choose to step on the white stripes of the crossing when they went to town.

He counted each time he felt content and what caused the same feeling, conducting a regression analysis in his head, considering everything in his mind and what he had learned.

p-value 0.023. Statistically significant result, which means that-

And then he finally connected all the dots and lines, realizing that everything seemed to point to the same answer.

He sat up from the sofa. I should have known it.

Perhaps it had been brewing for much longer than he had realized. Maybe it was the feeling he experienced when he was with her, the slight acceleration of his heart rate, akin to the rapid heartbeat of a suspect undergoing a polygraph test - a nervous anticipation. Perhaps it was the unconscious desire to touch her. Or maybe it was the emptiness he felt when she was absent. Or that sense of relaxation when he was with her, on the phone, or just having her near gave him another sensation of contentment. These feelings grew gradually, like a seed planted in his mind, unnoticed until they became too large to ignore.

L couldn’t move, still unable to believe the conclusion he had drawn for himself. But everything was coming together, making sense of his recent abnormality. Perhaps he had been aware of these feelings but lacked the courage to confront them. He was sinking in the rare companionship he rarely found elsewhere, particularly in his professional relationships, which often remained purely functional. Having total trust in someone else was a rare experience for him, given his life centered around suspicion, deduction, and unraveling mysteries. It wasn't that others were untrustworthy; rather, he himself was incapable of forming meaningful connections. And he hated it. For too long, this self-hatred clouded his judgment, and he never believed that real change was possible.

Therefore, when his subconsciousness acknowledged that he had never questioned her authenticity, despite his general inability to trust anyone, it sparked a conflict within him. This internal struggle twisted and turned, manifesting as a physical pain in his chest that he couldn’t comprehend.

She was one of the few genuine beings he had encountered. In her eyes, he saw no facade, no hidden agenda - and he didn’t mind if she chose to conceal anything from him. Was this an exception? Or a sign of his disability changing? Was he crossing a threshold from which he could never return?

He had always been quick to find solutions, answers, and solve puzzles. However, L found himself trapped for the first time, unsure of the next step. They had known each other for too long, and L couldn’t deduce a possible outcome if he unilaterally changed the dynamic between them. He would do his best to preserve her happiness and smile, to see her safe and always beaming at him, and by doing so, would make him feel content like never before. If such feelings were unrequited, then he would keep everything to himself.

But does he want to keep things as usual? He wasn’t sure either; there was a desire to know if there was a connection other than friendship and a need to know if it was only just him experiencing all this. He had to know if it was only in dreams that they would run to each other.

And there was only one way to find out.

Chapter 24: White

Chapter Text

“I just can’t stand the vibe that's going around,” mumbled Tanaka, seated backward in her chair, chin resting on her arms as she faced Meredith from the front.

“Because you didn’t receive any chocolate last month?” replied Meredith without lifting her attention from the documents on her desk.

“Hey! It’s not because of that!”

Meredith smiled. It was mid-March, and spring was in the air. After February and Valentine's Day ended last month, people gave reciprocal gifts to those who gave them gifts on Valentine's Day on March 14th. The pink bubbles of romance still lingered on the campus of a Japanese high school with gossip among students, trying to guess who might be together.

There was some free time before school ended, and although most of the time it would be self-study time, today, the class seemed more restless than ever. Chittering and chattering filled the room even if the teacher was present. Still, it was obvious that he alone could not oppress the excitement of students, the anticipation of the school bell, and the fluffy atmosphere. Therefore, he ignored it altogether- but just for this day.

“It’s more surprising that you didn’t get any chocolate last month, Meri.”

“I was at uni,” Meredith replied in a nonchalant tone.

“No, I meant- like, finding some in your shoe cabinet, or letters! I thought at least you would get one- or did you not tell me?”

“I have the chocolate that you gave me, Tanaka. And come to think of it, you did receive chocolate. From me. So don’t be so somber.”

“That doesn’t count! I mean- I do appreciate your chocolate; it was delicious- tell me where you bought it- But I was referring to romantic ones!”

"There is none, and I don't mind, and don't care," said Meredith, as she quickly scribbled down the brand of chocolate on a note, tore it, and handed it to Tanaka. Tanaka continued complaining that it was the most interesting month of the year and that she should be more excited and endorsed, but Meredith resumed her reading, seemingly unbothered.

February. Valentine’s Day. Just another ordinary month, another routine day, spent attending classes at the nearby university in psychology and completing yet another report in sociology.

Meredith lifted her attention and watched the commotion and excitement in the classroom. Girls chittering, giggling, hoping to receive reciprocal gifts from their crushes; boys secretly discussing, as if they were planning something. It was evident that this day held significance for her classmates.

Or perhaps it could be a special month for her, but with L and Watari mostly absent throughout February, Meredith's expectations were not high. Though she still received frequent text messages and phone calls from them, she dared not mention Valentine’s Day to L. After all, their relationship wasn’t the type where she could expect L to celebrate Valentine’s Day anyway. Even if she did manage to give L chocolate, she was sure that L wouldn’t associate chocolate with the date and would only consider it as another typical day for indulging in chocolate. Having chocolate needed no reason or specific date for L; he would have chocolate every day.

“What?” Tanaka’s voice interrupted Meredith’s thought, making her click back to reality.

“W-What?”

“What were you thinking? You seemed more distant.”

“Really? I wasn’t thinking anything important.” (Sorry, Tanaka. And yes, it is not really important.)

“Come on, just tell me!” said Tanaka, leaning in and staring into Meredith’s eyes.

“Alright, alright!” She had to tell Tanaka something to satisfy her curiosity. Meredith turned the prospectus that she was studying to Tanaka.

Tanaka smiled victoriously. “Let me see- Wait, what?” She jerked her head and looked at Meredith. “You want to go to law school? And the top ones, too!” squealed Tanaka as she flipped through the pages, scanning through the post-it notes that Meredith made and highlights that she marked. “It would be easy for you to apply these; in fact, they have to beg you to enroll in their school.”

“Don’t be silly, Tanaka,” replied Meredith as she gathered the scattered stationery on her desk and piled them together. “I still have to prepare some paperwork and do more research on interview questions.”

“But why do you want to go to law school if you will complete your degree in psychology and sociology in no time? And why apply now?”

“I think I already earned all of my credit scores here in high school, and technically, I could graduate this year if the Board allows me to graduate early. If I could graduate early, then I could start early.”

“Of course the Board would agree you to graduate early. You’re the top.” Tanaka continued to flip through Meredith’s notes, which included a list of required materials for her application, such as academic works and certificates. Most items on the list were already checked off, except for the agreement from the Board and a few recommendation letters. “But why do you want to enroll in law school? Do you want to become a lawyer? I’ve always thought you would continue your music career after graduation, and I never knew you wanted to learn law.”

Tanaka had a point. Championship numerous times in Britain’s national music competition, excelling in both piano and violin categories, to the extent that the competition committee just recently invited Meredith to serve as a judge in the national music competitions because her level was out of a contestant, possibly making her the youngest judge in England's music competition history. A music career seemed promising: a professor of music, a professional composer, or even joining the national orchestra, where she could easily rise to the position of first chair in no time. It would be an easy route to success for her.

But it was not the kind of success that she wanted. “Music is…nice, I think. It is something that I am good at, Tanaka.”

"It is the only thing I know would make my benefactor proud, reassuring him that I am capable even without his financial support," said Meredith, trying not to disclose too much yet maintain authenticity. Fortunately, Tanaka already knew that her education was supported by a benefactor, and she was expected to fulfill some kind of duty after she completed her education. That was all Tanaka knew. "But I want to do more, Tanaka. I want to fulfill my duty in a way that would significantly assist him and, by extension, help others as he has helped me. Currently, I know he needs more people with legal expertise."

It was more than that. Music started as a tool, a means to seek recognition — from her mother, and perhaps, even from her abusive father. All the compositions that she practiced. All the accomplishments that she gained. All the rosin she used up. All the strings she practiced till they snapped. All the bows that she used till they couldn’t play another note. All the calluses that developed on her fingers. A futile attempt, just hoping for them to recognize her. But they never did, yet the scars remained, and the marks of her young self always trying remained. And she hated it.

The meaning changed when she arrived in Wammy’s House. Watari was different. He would sit with her on the piano bench in her room, watch her play, and clap with the rhythm. Sometimes, he even sang along if he knew the tune and lyrics, making her laugh when his singing was out of tune (which, in fact, happened rather frequently) His gray eyes would watch her directly, and offer words of encouragement that she never received from her original family. As she began to enjoy playing her instruments more, she excelled at it faster, just to see the look of pleasure on Watari's face and his reassuring demeanor.

But music alone couldn't keep her by L and Watari’s side.

“L doesn’t fully comprehend the human mind and may cross legal boundaries. If you wish to become his ally, his support, and remain by his side, then prove your ability.”

Countless sleepless nights, with eyes unable to close and could only stare blankly at the ceiling of her bedroom, Meredith pondered Watari’s words, considering how to fulfill them.

If L doesn’t fully grasp the human mind, then in order to be his support, then I will learn how. Psychology and sociology were the first attempts to prove her ability to Watari. However, the more time she spent with L, the more she listened to his deduction and case-solving methods, leading her to realize that psychology and sociology were merely the basics. Acquiring knowledge wasn’t challenging for L; as a genius (and the top one), he could easily grasp the fundamentals of any field by quickly studying textbooks and research. If L ever needed knowledge of psychology and sociology, he could learn them within a few days, acquiring enough for his investigations. This pattern applied to other fields as well.

But there was another thing that she observed in the meanwhile. There was one thing that even L could learn in a day but wouldn’t easily change: his values and perspective on justice. And there needed to be someone to balance L, to remind him of a different perspective. While L's sense of justice mostly aligned with the human world, there were still some methods that went against society. Therefore, another person was necessary to dissent L and counteract him. From Meredith's observations, Watari alone would not be enough to hold L back.

To learn something that L cannot fully comprehend, to complement L’s ideology. To have values different from L, yet equally important.

Tanaka gazed at the girl before her. Meredith appeared distant, lost in thought as her inscrutable eyes gazed out the classroom windows. She had always been this way, Tanaka thought. In Tanaka’s experiences, distant people often get isolated, but it didn’t seem to bother Meredith, or maybe it might be the other way around, and she was the one isolating everyone else. Despite not participating in class every day, Meredith followed the school rules and excelled in exams, securing the top spot. Most of her peers respected her for this, and only a few spread negative rumors about her out of jealousy, but those didn’t stand long.

The feeling of distance and inscrutability was much better than the first time she met Meredith. It was during the opening ceremony of the school; while standing in line, Tanaka noticed the principal had a tuft of hair sticking out from the sides and whispered to the girl in front, “I bet he was in a hurry and didn’t take a look at himself in the mirror.”

The girl turned slightly, and Tanaka was amazed by her appearance: sleek black hair with natural fringes that framed her face, fair skin like the hue of moonlight, and clean, expressive eyes that concealed any thoughts, only a touch of somberness lingered. At that moment, despite being inches away from the girl in front of her, it felt like she was far, far away from them.

But the girl chuckled at her words, “Yes, I suppose the principal must be in a hurry this morning.”

The strong sense of distance immediately vanished.

It was on that day Tanaka knew, even though this girl seemed distant, they could get along. Two years after that day, at least now Tanaka could sense the subtle emotional shifts that Meredith expressed, if she paid close attention. But more often than not, although being the closest person to Meredith in school, Tanaka still felt she didn't fully understand the girl before her, or even questioned if they could truly be called friends.

“I never knew you have these thoughts,” said Tanaka, closing the notebook and handing to Meredith. “You will succeed in law, Meri, like how you succeed in music, in psychology, and in sociology.”

The afternoon sunlight lit up Tanaka’s face and her short, brown-black hair. Meredith gazed at Tanaka, who was humming a tune and continued to browse another prospectus. Tanaka was the kind of person who was ready to befriend anyone without prying into their personal lives. She never pressured Meredith to share anything and believed in living in the moment, or "Carpe Diem", as she would often say. Normal school life experiences were mostly spent with Tanaka- chatting, studying, shopping on weekends, and having lunch. Tanaka was the first friend outside Wammy’s House. And Meredith cherished that.

But she was also aware that if she eventually succeeded in staying close to Watari and L’s side, it would mean assuming another identity, another alias, to maintain the secrecy of their operation, akin to how L conducted investigations and how K covertly carried out Watari’s assignments.

In other words, moments with Tanaka were counting down.

“Tanaka,” said Meredith, “thank you for being my friend.”

It was L’s second time waiting for Meredith at the school gates.

Standing with a bad posture in the middle of the crowd, blocking students from reaching the front gates, the unusual raven-haired teenager stood out from the students in uniforms, with his attire constituted baggy jeans, a white long-sleeve T-shirt and old sneakers that needed a good wash.

“Who is that?”

“Look at his dark circles- ”

“He looks homeless…but clean…?”

“Let’s go around him- ”

Amidst all the chaos surrounding him, L seemed completely oblivious and continued to munch on a bar of chocolate he held in his hand. After finishing the whole bar, he casually rolled up the foil package and put it in his pocket. He was sure that she hadn't left school yet, based on his phone conversations with her. L continued to wait, scanning every face that appeared at the entrance of the school building, causing students to feel uneasy and quickly leave to avoid encountering the strange guy in the midst of the post-class crowd.

And there she was. Emerging from the school building.

Something in his chest expands. Like the warmth he felt when the sun shone on him, or the pleasure when drinking hot chocolate, yet none could truly accurately describe what he was currently feeling. She looked nice in her school uniform, even though it was the same as all the girls in their surroundings. She had her hair in a ponytail, which was a common style among the other girls, but to him, she still stood out. He should’ve known earlier what this was all about when he first picked her up from school; he should’ve, instead of realizing it just so recently.

L couldn’t resist but smile at Meredith. She smiled back, and hurried over to him.

“L- I mean, Asahi!” exclaimed Meredith. “Why are you here?”

Seeing her close up made those simmering warm feelings in his chest more intense, resulting in his heartbeat accelerating, but he still managed to keep a straight face.

“I came to pick you up,” shrugged L. And I need to prove-

“I mean- it’s a Wednesday, it’s not Friday or weekends- Watari didn’t mention you returning, or picking me up.”

“It’s just a random thought, don’t mind,” said L, attempting to take Meredith’s hand. The school was emptying out, and the noise and crowds were getting on his nerves, making him impatient as he was eager to prove the hypothesis in his mind.

But Meredith held back. “Wait, I rode my bike to school today, I’ll have to ride it back.”

And before L knew it, Meredith had taken hold of his wrist and was pulling him through the crowds towards the bike shed, causing him to almost stumble. They navigated through the throngs of passing students, her touch on his wrist feeling familiar. It reminded L of how she would always drag him to different places whenever she was eager to show him interesting things. Sometimes it was discovering a wild bunny in the garden, or watching a rainbow arch across the blue skies from her bedroom windows. Most of these things were trivial at first and didn't spark his interest, but her infectious curiosity and joy made him give in and let her drag him out of his room. Even when he was away from the orphanage, it was the little things that he remembered about her and that made him think of her.

L couldn’t help but smile as he followed her lead once again.

Upon arriving at the bike shed, while retrieving her keys and unlocking her bike, she asked, "You should have informed me about your return. How will we go back to Wammy's, considering you are on your own and I have to ride the bike back?"

“Then I’ll give you a ride."

“You’re okay?” Meredith sat on the carrier of her bike as L pedaled their way back.

“I’m fine,” replied L, as he continued to pedal. “I am more stronger than I look, you know.”

“I doubt that, judging from your thin, gangly limbs,” giggled Meredith. “If you can’t make it to the end, let me ride.”

“Not a chance.”

The spring breeze made L’s raven black hair flutter, and Meredith held on tight to the seat post. It was fortunate that her carrier had a seat cushion, or else it would be torture sitting on metal frames with all that jiggling and jolts from the ride.

The ride didn’t distract her from the puzzlements and questions in her mind. It was still strange for L to pick her up at such an awkward time. It was strange that Watari didn’t mention anything beforehand.

Meredith couldn’t help but ask, “How come did you have the time to return today? I thought there was an ongoing case about factories and pollution.”

L’s voice came from the front, along with the sound of the wind rushing by. “I managed.”

“You always say you managed.”

“And I did.”

Meredith watched him suspiciously; his responses were always brief whenever she sought an explanation for his abrupt arrivals. Though they never fully satisfied her curiosity, she found a strange delight in them. Each unexpected return felt like a bonus, a precious pocket of time she could claim for herself amidst L's tightly packed schedule.

As they rode on, their surroundings gradually shifted. The commotion of the Japanese high school was left behind, and they found themselves on the riverbank that led back to Wammy's House. From there, they could see the town areas of Winchester and soon they would see the suburban areas where the orphanage was located, undisturbed by outsiders.

"Remember when I took you downtown and you didn't want to leave the candy store?" Meredith asked, her gaze fixed on the distant town.

“I do,” smiled L. “I was interested in the macaron tower in the window. I still occasionally ask Watari to buy me candies from Simon’s. They have the best toffee.”

“I had to use all my might to pull you away,” Meredith chuckled. “You have no idea how hard it was to drag you out of there.”

“And I eventually gave in,” said L. “Your attempt to pull me with all your might seemed rather feeble. I couldn't help but find it amusing.”

“It was time to leave,” pouted Meredith. “Or we wouldn’t have made it to the bus on time.”

They both smiled, their grins widening until they turned into snickers, unable to hold back as they burst into laughter, reminiscing about that day. It was quite a while before they could catch their breaths and regain their composure.

Meredith continued to chuckle slightly as she watched their surroundings. The breeze and the picturesque scenery around them, with L still pedaling their way back, provided a brief moment of tranquility that she hadn't experienced in some time. When was the last time they were physically close, just like before? It must have been L’s last return, she thought. Wouldn’t it be great if they could be like they were when they were younger, spending hours reading in L’s room or studying in a quiet corner of the library where hardly anyone would notice them?

She missed it dearly. But she knew well that unless there was a way to turn back time, it was impossible for them to be inseparable like before. Was there a way to make their time last forever? Would learning law make her capable of staying by L and Watari’s side? It was all still uncertain.

Watari seemed supportive of her learning law. She hadn’t had the chance to talk with the man in person since he and L’s presence at the institution was scarce, so discussions were carried out through phone calls and text messages. There were moments she questioned, yet dared not ask Watari directly if her decision could make her a notable student capable of carrying out Wammy’s Organization assignments. Even if she did, she believed Watari wouldn't provide a definite answer.

But maybe L would.

“Hey L- ”

A sudden jolt, probably caused by a pebble on the road made Meredith shriek in fear and subconsciously cling tightly onto L's waist for support. The bike picked up speed, and the wind rushed past them, tousling their hair and exhilarating their senses. Meredith should have recognized the slope, but she had lost track of time and distance and now it caught her by surprise. She tried to steady herself by tightening her grip on L, but the rush of the wind made it difficult to keep her balance.

As they finally reached the bottom and transitioned onto a flat road, she instinctively moved to release her hold on L's waist, her fingers just about to hover back to the seat post of the bike. But before she could let go, L's voice cut through the wind.

"Don't let go."

Her eyes widened, and his heart pounded with fear that she didn't take him seriously. He wanted to say something else, maybe it was the best timing to prove his hypothesis, but anxiety was running under his skin, as if it would sprout into plants and vines, tightly wrapping and choking him. Thoughts won’t convey if they weren’t told, but what was he supposed to say when he was all choked up?

Although L couldn't see her expression, he was surprised when she smiled, intertwined her fingers, and held on to him instead of letting go.

Despite his slender frame, L's body felt warm in her arms. She could smell the familiar scent of detergent and feel the slight bulge, likely his ribs and spine under his skin and thin flesh, and the overwhelming rush of emotions they always brought her remained unchanged. All of it made her feel…familiar and safe. Meredith leaned gently on L’s back; she couldn’t think less of the appropriateness, and just simply let the feeling seep into her being.

After a few minutes of silence, L asked, "So, what did you want to tell me?"

“Do you think-” she hesitated for a brief moment, then continued, “that I am capable of carrying out Watari’s assignments?”

Contrary to her tone, his had no hesitation. “You are.”

“How could you be sure?”

“I just know.”

“That’s not a valid reason.” But an answer that is very expected from L.

“There needn’t a valid reason to have faith in you.”

“But I don’t.”

“That’s why you want to learn law?”

He knew? “How did you know?”

“Watari mentioned. Like I said, you already are capable of Watari’s assignments.”

Meredith’s gaze lowered. "Even if you say so, I still feel like... my abilities and expertise aren’t the type that would be beneficial in carrying out Watari’s assignments,” she said, sounding like a kitten with its ears down. “Among graduates of Wammy’s House, to suffice a ‘notable graduate’ and be able to carry out Watari’s assignments, one must excel in a certain field that Watari considered capable of changing the world, and to have Watari’s trust.”

“K specializes in chemistry and biotechnology and is currently developing new antidotes to cure diseases… F specializes in espionage, trained by Watari himself, and is currently in the intelligence field, gathering important information that could change the world… Watari saw K's, F's, and your ability to change the world, and trusted you to change the world.”

L could feel her grip tightening slightly with a small tremble as Meredith continued in a softer and lower voice, "Isn't it naïve to think that learning law could help me side with Watari and you? But I need to find something, something that I think- would be useful in carrying out Watari’s assignments, and to prove to myself that I am worthy."

"You don't need to prove anything to stay close to us," said L. "After all, the time we spent, having tea and sweets in my room wasn't for nothing."

After hearing her chuckle at his words, L finally felt relieved. Such a fragile being, yet with a strong determination of proving herself and putting into practice, despite already being illustrious among her peers. Was this another trait that he had fallen for? L couldn't quite put it into words, but he knew that he didn't want to see her upset. He was willing to put in all effort just to see her smile.

“Hey L, if I enroll in law school, will you visit me at school?”

“Of course I will.”

“Even if it is miles away from Winchester, hours away from Wammy’s House, and I had to live on campus, or maybe rent a room nearby?”

“Of course.”

“And why are you so sure that you will do so?”

「好──」(“Because I-”)

The wind intensified. The grass fields rippled as though someone was ruffling them. Her ponytail broke free from its holder, caught by the wind and carried away. She turned around in a futile attempt to reclaim it, but the gusts were relentless, assaulting her with sand and grit that stung her cheeks, making her scrunch her eyes.

「──す」(“-you.”)

Chapter 25: Hana

Chapter Text

She didn’t seem to notice. The bloody wind-

On the desk lay a heap of jellybeans, which the detective meticulously pinched, squashed, flattened, and sorted by their shades, creating a color-coded table. He then stared at the candy table in his usual position, hands on his bent knees, while he continued to think what steps he should take next.

The first thing he wanted to prove was whether Meri felt the same way about him as he did about her. The best way to do that was to ask her directly. L flattened another jellybean. And so, he went to her high school to pick her up. However, before he could ask her anything, she pulled him away from the crowd and the next thing he knew, he was biking with her seated behind him, heading back to Wammy’s House.

He tried to find the right moment to ask, but he never felt that the timing was right. When he finally did find a good moment, the wind drowned out his voice, and it was clear that she didn't hear anything. Otherwise, there should have been some kind of response or reaction from her so that he could analyze and determine her feelings.

None. The sugar coat of the candy cracked between his fingers. A disappointing conclusion.

And there hadn't been a right timing since then. Timing was important. Like solving cases and waiting for the right moment to seize and arrest, to gather the most evidence to prove the hypothesis and verify deduction. Timing had extreme relativity with success and precision. He had to be sure to succeed.

More than that, there was resistance. He didn’t feel at ease asking her directly afterward. The rest of that day was rather quiet; Meri studied in his room beside him, he tried to focus on reading. But no further action did he conduct. Maybe he was returning to rationality. Maybe it was after careful calculation and pondering that it wouldn’t work.

He reached into the bucket of jellybeans beside him, grabbed a handful, and continued his sorting and pinching. It stung whenever he looked at her when it seemed to be the right timing to ask her. How she tilted her head, and her hair swished gently as she asked him, “What was the matter?” The first thing that came to his mind was the comforting feeling when she innocently gazed at him. Warmth spread through his chest once again, distracting him from the task at hand. He shook his head, suppressed his determination, and mumbled, "Nothing."

It felt like there was no right timing. Or was it an excuse for his unwillingness to face the potential answer…?

L paused the genocide of the jellybeans. He had to come up with another plan. A more indirect way. More suitable for him, for him and Meredith.

“Why isn’t it chocolate eggs, Roger?” The short blonde-haired boy hollered while continuing to follow Roger Ruvie. Roger Ruvie quickened his footsteps, trying to shake the boy off. It was getting annoying.

“Mello- if you don’t like boiled eggs, then don’t have them-”

Mello followed faster. “But we could have chocolate ones, why don’t you change them-”

“I have no time for this, Mello-” Roger tried to manage basic patience and sanity, for this conversation had continued for almost twenty minutes after the lunch break. “If you have opinions on what eggs we will have on Easter, then raise them to Mr. Wammy yourself. I will not change them just because you saw chocolate Easter eggs ads on TV.”

Mello continued to whine. Roger continued to ignore him. Finished observing the commotion that they were making, Meredith popped her head back into her room. “Easter…it will be on April 4^th this year.” She turned to the boy who was sitting on her piano bench, “I suppose your classes will also take breaks, right, Adam?”

Adam hummed with a nod while continuing to read the manga in his hands. “It’s my first Easter. What does this kanji mean?”

She joined him and sat beside him, followed his finger to the speech bubble and defined the term. “Then you could attend the spring picnic. Egg painting, egg hunts- ”

“I thought older children lose interest in Easter activities,” interrupted Adam, pausing his reading and looking at Meredith, puzzled.

“I like Easter. Others…I don’t know,” Meredith paused to think for a moment, “K thought Easter was boring. It’s really the same each year- Church in the morning, a picnic on the lawn, and if it rains, it would be special meals in the dining room, egg painting and hiding, then egg hunting. It’s not huge like Christmas, and we already take breaks on Sundays, so there are no additional breaks. Maybe others have the same thoughts as K.”

“You don’t seem to be bored. Or fed up.”

“Colorful Easter eggs would want to be seen and found, and be admired by people,” replied Meredith. “But I have to admit that Roger would occasionally find unfound eggs left rotten in unexpected corners, and had to clean them in disgust.”

“That’s a silly thought,” chuckled Adam at her whimsical belief. “If eggs were to rot, then why not use chocolate eggs?”

“Watari preferred the traditional way of using real eggs. Roger followed,” answered Meredith, resting her chin in her palm with her elbow propped on the closed piano. “It’s part of the tradition. You can’t paint chocolate eggs, can you? It’ll take out all the fun.”

“Tell me more about what you do on Easter.”

For the next hour, she talked about how Watari would always prepare the same amount of eggs as the children in Wammy’s House, regardless of how many would actually attend, and that he would have to paint the extra eggs himself, resulting in all the children knowing that the two-color eggs were painted by the man himself. Young Meredith would obediently paint one, and when older, she joined Watari, later with Roger, to finish painting the remaining eggs and helping to hide them. Roger also painted the eggs using two colors only, as he was usually occupied with maintaining order and preventing children from intentionally putting paint on each other's cheeks or ruining other people's eggs. (“Children simply have no manners and are always out of control,” Roger would say.)

Seeing off a content and excited Adam, Meredith then headed to the library. The way Adam solved puzzles and his logical thinking and deduction were reminiscent of L's, although not as sophisticated. The style was getting more and more similar, she reckoned, the same precise yet rather non-linear thinking that was difficult for many to keep up with.

But more times, she saw herself in him. He was diligent and intelligent, but there was a feeling that he was in desperate need of being seen. As if Adam lacked any compliment in his daily life. Even small compliments from her, such as saying "wow" when he got all the answers right on his assignments, would bring a subtle grin to Adam's face. “I knew it.” He would say. She felt that Adam knew all the answers already but only wanted her confirmation and the exclamation of her in awe.

Did the instructors not provide any kind of positive feedback on his outstanding progress? Meredith couldn’t tell. Courses were advanced and difficult in Wammy, she had to admit, and instructors hardly complimented them, but surely, from time to time, there would be grades and a small good job that could be received from the instructors. At least she had. The progress that Adam showcased must be the top among his peers, it would be impossible if there were a lack of compliments.

And this friend of his. It seemed that they were taking the same courses together. It was hard to imagine a boy alone could handle such heavy-loading assignments. She did ask once that she was willing to provide homework support to his friend, the friend that she didn’t know which child was. Adam only replied, “He doesn’t need support. I need it more.” And never mentioned it thereafter. Neither did she continue to ask; it was really not something she would ask in detail.

She walked past the opened doors of the orphanage’s library. The absence of a librarian in Wammy’s House’s library meant that all children were instructed to return books according to The Dewey Decimal Classification system. Fortunately, the Wammy’s House library did not feature a massive collection of books like public libraries. As she searched for the corresponding shelves to which the books belonged, her mind still spun about Adam’s quirks and unusual behavior. He still had this habit of staring into nothingness when she observed him, and he still said something weird from time to time, such as mumbling, “Why is it declining so fast?” but never explained to her what it was. Eventually, she would ignore those little murmurs and just listen.

And he said that it’s his first Easter. But is that possible? Did Adam enter Wammy’s House within a year? But certainly, he would need some time to adapt to the new environment and then take basic courses instead of courses so advanced…

While standing in the aisle, sliding the last book in her arms back to where it belonged, Meredith noticed another book that clearly did not belong there - a common occurrence in the library when some people don't follow the classification system. As she took the book off the shelf to return it to its proper place, she suddenly saw L's stoic face staring directly at her, indicating that he was standing on the other side.

Her shoulders jerked, but she suppressed a yelp and composed herself, feeling embarrassed.

“Hello there, Meri,” L continued to stare. “I apologize for startling you.”

"What are you doing here, L?" whispered Meredith, glancing around to see if anyone was nearby. "I thought you don't come back on weekdays.”

“I thought it would be a good idea if I could ask you some opinions on my current case.” L needn’t whisper to speak in the library. His voice was already hushed.

“You didn’t tell me that you would return.” And that counts for the second time this month.

“I will head back to my place after you provide your opinion on the matters that I am concerned about,” said L in a serious manner, “I’m deeply disturbed by the thought of being unable to figure out the problem. It’s crucial.”

It seemed suspicious. It turned out L asked her advice on what gifts to get for Watari and what he liked. “I’m thinking of a limited-edition gift box of his favorite tea,” said L while drawing a mind map on a piece of paper on the floor in Meredith’s room. Meredith sat beside him, watching suspiciously. Although they had given Watari birthday presents in the past, it was mostly her bringing up the topic and answering it herself, with L being present. He would either nod to agree or shake his head if he was still engrossed in the computer. He never cares for birthdays other than his, Meredith thought. But she did not question L, and only provided some other options other than tea. In the end, they were able to decide on a gift (still tea, they couldn't be too sure about anything else, along with a handmade card, as Meredith would do annually), although she was the one responsible for purchasing, as usual.

L's behavior continued to be suspicious for the following weeks.

Three times in a week, he had returned to the orphanage. Without any signs. Without informing beforehand. It was definitely abnormal. Meredith questioned L's frequent visits, but he always had an explanation that seemed genuine, yet uncanny to her.

Sometimes it was randomly appearing in the corner of the institution. There was once he randomly blocked her way while she was heading to the common room, making her bump into him. On another occasion, instead of blocking her, L waited in the corner where he knew that Meredith would make a turn. As expected, she rounded the corner and was caught off guard, letting out a yelp and stumbling backward, while fortunately, he was able to catch her just in time.

“Wha-why did you ambush me!” panted Meredith, still quite shocked from the surprise.

“I didn’t mean to,” replied L innocently while slowly letting her go as she found her footing. “I have something to ask you.”

“It’s dangerous. Please don’t do it again,” said Meredith, rubbing her wrist. It was quite fascinating to L that even though she was totally shocked, there was no annoyance in her tone but only earnestness.

“…I promise I won’t do it again.”

Meredith patted the edges of her clothes smoothly and asked, “So, what do you want to ask?”

L pulled out a piece of paper and lifted it in her face. It turned out to be a list of addresses. “This one,” he pointed, “take me there.”

“What is this list?”

“A list of bakeries.”

“And?”

“I want you to take me there.”

“…Why don’t you ask Watari to drive you there?”

“The suspect took the bus to these bakeries. I need to follow his route to observe any significant locations.” L paused for a moment and added, “And I heard that this specific bakery makes excellent cinnamon rolls.”

Meredith gave him a confused look.

It continued till April. The abnormality that L was expressing. Frequent returning to the orphanage than before, without any notice and purpose except for trivial things that could be handled simply by a phone call? Sudden and random appearances, popping out of nowhere, as if he wanted her to constantly keep watch for him. Or to expect that he was nearby. Always.

The small radio on her desk switched to the weather forecast.

“…Some low clouds around this morning, and it will continue throughout the day with a chance of rain as April showers kick in. Daytime will reach a peak of 15, dropping to 9 at night, and set to continue until Thursday, and the cloud will gradually thin out, promising a warm, sunny Easter weekend. Following the holiday, we’ll be treated to sunny skies for a few days before the rain makes a comeback...”

She lifted her gaze and watched the grey skies from her bedroom windows. It indeed suggested rain. Meredith got up and quickly hurried downstairs and out to the garden. The breeze smelt like soil. There would be no one outdoors if they knew it was about to rain, creating a time when she could search for a perfect egg hiding spot without anyone discovering.

Another reason why she looked forward to Easter was that Watari would take breaks from the investigations and, therefore, make L take breaks as well, although it doesn’t necessarily indicate that they would return to the orphanage. She was now quite used to it, but Easter was a time when their return was more predictable.

Meredith strolled the garden. Henhouse…no, she used that spot before. Putting an Easter egg in the hen house needed courage not only from the hider but also from the seeker. And it was a popular hiding spot. In a tree hole? No,…too predictable. She pushed aside a bush of tall grass to check if the density was enough. Maybe she should check the large plum tree on the far side of the garden. Maybe there are new holes that rabbits made.

As she headed to the tree and could see the branches of the plum tree blooming clusters of petite white flowers, she noticed a slim figure sitting in lotus position under the tree, still and eyes closed.

That would mark the eighth time L returned without any notice.

“What are you doing?” Meredith approached him and squatted down.

L opened his eyes slowly and replied in his usual stare. “I am meditating.”

He does have the habit of meditating, but certainly not in this scenario and location. “I never knew you would meditate under a tree. A full bloom flower tree.”

“Now you know. What’s wrong with sitting under a flower tree?”

“I thought you didn’t appreciate flowers.”

“I could learn to appreciate them. You and Watari both like flowers.”

It felt funny when he said that. Him willing to learn something seemingly ‘meaningless’ to him. Learning to appreciate flowers seemed pointless in terms of its usefulness in solving cases. He was acting strange. But why was she feeling a weird sense of joy bubbling inside when she heard his response?

Distract those feelings. Say something else. “Siddhartha meditated under a pipal tree and reached enlightenment. Have you reached that?” smiled Meredith.

His eyes closed again, still in his calm tone. “Not yet. There are too many questions that remain unanswered.”

Meredith chuckled and continued to watch him. There were many questions unanswered in her mind as well. Maybe she should join him in meditating. Maybe by doing so, there would be an explanation of why his recent acts were abnormal. Maybe it would solve why Adam always says strange things. Maybe meditating would figure out a way to stay close to Watari and L.

Petals were gently falling from the tree, drifting down onto the green grass bed, and settling on L's hair and shoulders. But apparently, today is not the best weather to meditate outside. She reached out her hand and gently brushed off the white petals that landed on L's shoulders. "Meditate inside, then. The weather forecast suggests that it's going to rain."

She stood up, stretched out her hand, and offered to pull L up. "It couldn’t be that you are missing me, so that could explain your frequent returns, right?" teased Meredith while L took her hand and stood up. It must be his usual mocking or toying, she thought.

L patted off the dust and remaining petals from his jeans, pausing for a moment before he looked straight into her eyes. “You are the one that said if I miss you, then return to Wammy to see you.”

Plum blossoms drifted and fell like snow as the spring breeze caressed their faces. If it were a normal day in the garden, her eyes would follow the petals and see how far they could fly, but no, not today, as she froze and could not take her eyes off L, feeling there were petals swarming inside of her as well.

He stood in the midst of the drifting white petals, his hands in his pockets.

“And I do,” said L, his hair fluttering with the directions of the breeze. “I do.”