七十九 | 𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐈𝐒𝐄

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Several months passed since (Y/N) put her plan into action, and finally, without a doubt, she could say that it was a success. For starters, she had been able to keep the existence of Shinigami and the Death Notes a secret from both L and the rest of the Task Force and Japanese police. After such information was leaked out in the first place, it only went downhill from there. She also knew that if it was ever revealed that Light was, in fact, Kira, then L would waste no time in locking him away.

Permanently.

And (Y/N) couldn't have that.

However, after excruciatingly planning and taking action with both the aide of Misa and Rem, (Y/N) was able to convince L and the rest of the Task Force to blame the murders done by Kira's hand on a man already suspected of being a serial killer. And after he was executed swiftly, the killings finally stopped. No longer did criminals or anyone else dropped dead from a sudden heart attack.

It was invigorating.

But then, there was the problem with L and Light and their relationship with her.

(Y/N) didn't know what to do.

They despised each other.

They could barely be in the same room as each other—it had gotten to the point where no longer where they hiding their hostility to each other, instead almost starting full on fights because of it. Starting to get a headache, (Y/N) tried to think of a way to stop such violence.

Which led her to the current situation.

"You bought a house!? In England!?" Light shouted at L in Headquarters where the three of them met daily, rage clear as day painting his expression while his brown eyes flashed with a slow building aggravation that very well looked ready to lash out at any moment. "And you want to take (Y/N) there for a month!? The hell were you thinking, Ryuzaki!?"

"She's mine, Light," L scowled at the boy, his pale fingers twitching. "We can do as we please."

"Light and I have a year left at To-Oh," (Y/N) spoke up as she swiveled her chair around back to face them, immediately both of their attention turning to her. "L, can't I finish that one year left before going to England?"

"You can have anything you want," L affirmed.

(Y/N) sighed.

For she knew that even as he said that, he didn't entirely mean it—at least, in the sense of whether or not it pertained to if she willingly came to him. She remembered that although L made the speech about lying monsters being the worst, she realized that he was the one lying the whole time. He never cared for justice, only the fact that he won. And as she stared into his dark eyes, she knew that to win, all he needed was her in his possession.

And that meant stifling her freedom.

Therefore, the house in England—away from everyone who once knew her.

"This is so fucking irritating," Light brushed a hand through his hair as his jaw tightened, one hand propping on his hip. "And after that year is up, then what? You'll practically uproot (Y/N) and her entire life just for your own satisfaction?"

L didn't answer.

His glare merely darkened.

"If you think that I'll allow you to take her from me, you're sorely mistaken," Light continued with a rather vicious scowl—for it looks could kill, L would surely be lying cold on the ground, but then again, the same could be said vice versa. "Nothing you say or do will ever be able to separate me from her. And nothing ever will."

"Why don't you just come with us to England?" (Y/N) finally pointed out."

"No," both men stated at once.

"Well, at least you agree on something," she chuckled softly as she stood up, moving past L to go brew a cup of coffee but halting immediately when he pulled her back. "Huh...? L...?"

He wrapped his arms around her waist and held her tightly in place, his cheek pressed against her back so that he was now glaring Light down. L was never one for sharing—in fact, he was never one for losing, and he would not give (Y/N) up so easily. Unhinged at that point for her affection, for her touch, for her attention, L's arms were almost like that of chains keeping her rooted to one place.

And away from Light.

The thought only further ticked said boy off.

"Listen," (Y/N) groaned as she practically had to pry L off of her so she could face both him and Light, pinching the bridge of her nose in agitation. "If you can't figure out how to get along, then one day, you will both wake up and I will be gone."

Both stiffened.

Their blood turned to ice in their veins from how chilling her words were.

They couldn't fathom such a truth.

(Y/N) left the room, the sound of the door closing behind her resounding through the room like a ringing gong. L and Light didn't move, instead merely continuing to sit rigid in their chairs, their eyes wide and their expressions impassive. They knew that she was being completely serious as she spoke—her (E/C) eyes were jaded and cold, entirely and fully detached.

They had never seen such a look before.

And they despised it.

"We need to do something," Light finally uttered, his fists tightening on his legs.

"And what do you propose we do?" L questioned, neither he nor Light looking at one another. "It's not as if we'll ever get along as she asks, but I'm sure you already know that."

Light's scowl deepened.

He knew that L was right.

He hated to admit that the detective was right.

But it was true.

"We don't necessarily have to get along," Light finally murmured, staring at his reflection through the black computer screen. "All we need is her."



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