Chapter Text
L isn't a naive guy. The world is cold and uncaring, and the people in it, even more so. He, more than others, has been made aware of this fact time and time again, and he's used to it by now. He's stopped expecting anything better.
He's waiting for his taxi, staring blankly into the road as cars zoom past, splashing drops of water onto his clothes as they do. It doesn't do much anyway. He's already soaked to the skin.
Watari would be so worried, he thinks, heart clenching at the thought. It's almost midnight, and he's never come home this late. He isn't close to too many people in this world, so he'd rather not push away the few people who put up with him.
A bit late for that, isn't it? an icy part of him whispers. He takes a deep breath to swallow down the bile rising in his throat at the thought of everything he'd said. Everything that had been said to him. If words could bruise, he'd be mottled black and blue right now.
Light Yagami isn't his friend, because L isn't hopeful enough to believe that he could be something like that to another person. He's just... a guy at his school who he's closer to than others. It isn't like they have a choice. They're constantly surrounded by idiots, pushovers, and bullies, and coincidentally ended up finding a strange comfort in each other. They don't talk as much as soak in the other's quiet presence most of the time, but when they do, it always surprises L with how natural it is. It isn't awkward or stilted like every other conversation he's had. Light is fascinating. Others aren't. That's all it is.
And maybe Light has a knack for making him laugh and blush and smile, maybe Light's boyish grin and smooth chatter draws L in, maybe Light's eyes on him burn in a way he isn't used to. Whatever it is, Light entrances L.
Maybe they could have called each other friends one day.
Not anymore, he thinks, flexing fingers numb from the cold. And what for? A stupid argument. Differing views that escalated and were somehow enough to make them lash out at each other, saying things neither meant in the moment, but were enough to shatter something that had been fragile enough as it was.
The bright headlights of cars reflect on the growing puddles on the road, blinding L everytime a car got closer. He's a bit too close to the road. He should move back.
He continues staring at the passing cars dully, not moving a muscle. The overlapping noise soothes him. The gentle pattering of the rain, cut through by a faraway car engine that builds in volume as it nears, roaring as it passes him, softened by the splash of the cushion of rain on the ground, and then disappearing into the distance until it would repeat with the next car.
His phone vibrates. He pulls it out, glancing guiltily at the name on his screen. Watari would be so upset and it's all L's fault. There's no point talking to him now, he'd explain when he got home. He shoves his phone back in his pocket, not bothering to switch the call off. It continues buzzing insistently next to his leg. L counts to twenty slowly, and it turns off before he reaches twelve.
It's 12:18 am and his driver has yet to show up. L's foot starts tapping impatiently, and the cold is beginning to settle under his skin. He shivers, and looks around himself. The street is mainly deserted, save for a few huddles of homeless people watching him through sunken cheeks and hollow eyes. He turns away, biting his lip. Where is his driver?
Ten more minutes pass. L can't feel his face anymore. He rubs his nose frustratedly, and starts walking. He trudges on through the rain, miserably aware of his shirt sticking to his back and chest, and the cold that was making his limbs tremble.
It's while he's wallowing in these thoughts that he looks down an alleyway and spots a clothing line hanging between two dingy apartments. The owners of the clothes must have forgotten to pull them back in. More importantly, however, there's a thick coat hanging from the line.
L stares at it. It's wrong to steal. Those people probably need that coat.
A drop of water drips down the nape of his neck, and a frigid gust of wind makes his teeth chatter involuntarily. He's moving before he's aware of it. He trudges down towards it and after another quick look left and right, he pulls himself up onto a nearby dumpster. Reaching out, balanced precariously, he snags the coat off. He has a triumphant moment to himself before he steps back and his foot slips on the dumpster's wet surface. He crashes down to the ground, stifling a pained moan and struggles to his feet, looking on the ground for the coat and... it's fallen somewhere else.
Trying to be as silent as possible, he searches around himself. Nope. Nowhere to be seen. Cursing his luck, he wanders further down the alley, wanting to get out of there as soon as possible, but stubbornly refusing to leave that damn coat. All he has to do is find it and continue walking or call another taxi, and he'll be home in no time.
"Hey kid," he hears behind him. He swings around, panic spiking as two men approach him slowly. He recognises them from further back down the road he'd been walking on. He hadn't realised they were following him. Something glints in one of their hands. A knife. Shit. Shit shit shit.
"What you got on you?" the one with the knife grunts. L backs away, heart hammering. Why had he gone down a dark alleyway after midnight? What the fuck had made him think that that was good idea? He hadn't needed the coat at all, he should've called another taxi and waited.
His back touches a damp wall. He's cornered.
"I asked you," the man repeats, raising his arm to show L the full length of the knife, "what you got on you?"
Blood is rushing through L's ears, and he nearly misses what the man said a second time. He shoves shaky hands into his pockets and brings out his phone and a small amount of cash that adds up to barely 400 yen. The man snatches it out of his hands, then snarls as he sees how much it is.
"That's all?" He dangles the phone in front of L. "These ain't cheap to come by. You're telling me you can buy one of these things and still only have this much cash?"
"I'm sorry - I don't carry much cash with me, I-" He stops abruptly when the man slashes the knife through the air.
"Shut the fuck up, we wasted our time coming all that way after you and for this?!"
He throws the phone at his partner, a tall, bald man with deep set eyes who catches it without taking his eyes off L.
"S-sorry-" L begins stammering again, but the taller man suddenly speaks. His voice is low and grating and L freezes, dread filling every corner of his body.
"I'm not leaving 'til I get something worthwhile outta this," he says. His eyes rove up and down L. It makes L feel filthy, his skin crawling with fear and disgust.
The man with the knife squints at his partner, confused, before his face clears and a malicious smile starts growing instead.
"He's not my usual type, but I guess it'll do," he smirks, taking a step closer to L.
L's breath catches and he pushes backwards against the wall. The other two come closer.
The man stabs the knife against the wall behind L's shoulder, and he screams, before throwing all caution to the wind and trying to run past them. It doesn't matter if he gets scratched or punched or slashed in the process, the alternative is too horrible to consider, the implications in the man's words are enough for L to know exactly what they're thinking, and he won't let them, he won't let them-
A fist catches him in his solar plexus and his knees buckle. Fingers dig into his hair and yank his head up sharply. He's only managed to take a wheezing breath in before he's slapped so hard his vision blacks. He would've fallen over if it wasn't for the hand holding him up by his hair.
"Little bitch," he hears from far away. "Thought we'd let you past us that easily?"
Cold lips attach themselves to his mouth, stealing even the little oxygen L was managing to take in. L struggles uselessly against them, twisting his head around and trying to call out for help. His arms are pressed to his sides, then he's dropped roughly onto the ground and clammy hands are pulling at his shirt, at his trousers, icy air is biting at his bare skin, and those hands, they're everywhere, it's awful-
L is suddenly filled with a bone-deep horror as it permeates through his brain that this is actually happening to him.
"No," he gasps, unable to see the two men through the darkness of the alleyway and the tears obscuring his vision. "Please, don't, don't, I'm only 17, I-"
A hand is clamped over his mouth, and his body is twisted around so he's on his stomach. Thicker, heavier legs hold down his own, and L can feel that they're as naked as he is. The hands are still roaming, and when fingers press against him, he sobs, unable to move, unable to breathe, everything is happening too, too fast-
An earth-shattering pain skewers through him, pain on a level he can't comprehend. He thinks he's been split in two. The guttural groaning behind him and the warm wetness on the insides of his thighs are too much, too much, too much.
Then the man moves and L's mind greys out. He watches himself as he's slowly destroyed by both men, over and over again, until he's no longer moving, lying on the ground on his face, an inanimate toy for the monsters using him.
He watches as they get up after what must be hours, snatching up his phone and the little money he had. He watches as they leave, not even bothering to cover his body from the cold. He watches, he watches, because he's too broken to see.
L welcomes the darkness chewing at the corners of his vision. In the corner of an alleyway, far from home, freezing and bleeding and agonised, L passes out.