Chapter 1
Watari strode diligently down the hotel corridor with two plastic bags in hand. In the first, he had a healthy turkey sandwich and hearty cup of soup. The second, much larger, bag held a large cake. Each quarter of the cake was a different flavor. Sitting on top was a deep tub of ice cream. By the time Watari got to the hotel room that his charge was staying in, his hand was beginning to cramp.
He opened the door with his key card and was not surprised to find the rooms shrouded in darkness. What did surprise him, however, was the absence of the repetitive clacking of fingers on a keyboard, or the periodic squeaky swivel of a desk chair that needed to be oiled.
Placing the two bags on the counter that served as the hotel suite’s kitchen, he called out, “Ryuzaki?” Out of safety (in case someone was passing by the corridor outside, not in case of cameras, because the room had been thoroughly checked), he used L’s favorite alias.
There was no response, which worried him. Usually, if L was not working, he would pad out of his study on bare feet to accept the offering of sweets.
Warily, Watari rounded the corner of L’s bedroom, which served less as a place to sleep and more of a place for L to work comfortably. What he found shocked him to his core.
L was curled into a tight ball on his bed, voluntarily sleeping.
~
“You have been having these episodes nearly once a month,” Watari noted nearly half a year later.
L shrugged. “I suppose it comes with the job.”
In the past half a year or so, L had begun to suffer from frequent debilitating migraines. They would come upon him suddenly and with such fervor that he could do nothing but lay still, avoiding any noises or lights, until he fell asleep, which always took hours. He then proceeded to sleep for at least twelve hours, which was the only way he had found to rid himself of the irritating problem. Worst of all, the episodes had become more frequent and longer-lasting.
Watari shook his head. “It is interfering with your work, as you know,” he pointed out. Trying to appeal to L’s sense of self preservation would be next to useless, but if he used the angle that these bouts of migraines left him incapacitated for an indeterminate amount of time, he might get through to the detective.
L did not respond. He swiveled in his chair to look back at his laptop and began to tap on the keys, which Watari knew was as much of an admission of guilt that he would get.
“You must see that the level of stress you are putting your mind and body through is having a terrible impact on not only your health, but on your career and deductive abilities,” he reasoned. L nibbled on his thumb in response.
“As I said, it comes with the job of being the world’s several top detectives, unfortunately.” He said it in such a resigned tone. Watari knew he would sentence himself to a life of suffering in a heartbeat, just so he could keep working.
He shook his head. He would not let L, who he had raised since he was a young child, drive himself to such an early death this way. His fatherly instincts were far too strong. “You need a break.”
“Out of the question.”
“L, you will ruin yourself, and then what good will you be to the world dead?”
“I will endeavor to solve as many cases as I can before that time comes.”
Watari strode toward him and smiled. “I thought you would see it this way.” He reached into his coat pocket and produced a thick white envelope. “Forgive me; I took the liberty.”
L gingerly took the proffered envelope between two fingers, analyzing the bold English text printed on its surface. It was addressed to a Ryuzaki Hideki, from the Wundt University of the Sciences.
“You . . .” L trailed off, carefully opening the envelope. He was in disbelief. He took out the contents and read the letter. Mr. Hideki, we are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at the Wundt University… “Watari, you didn’t.”
“I felt compelled to look after your health, if you were not going to do it yourself. You need to take a break from the stress of cases. What better use of a vacation than to earn yet another degree?”
L narrowed his eyes at Watari. “I will not.”
“You will,” he warned. “I have also taken the liberty of accepting the position. You begin in the fall.”
L leaned back in his chair, using his legs as a shield between him and Watari. It was as if he could ignore all of this trouble if he just avoided looking Watari in the eyes. “I don’t have the time or patience to attend university again. Much less in America. Unacceptable.”
“If you do not attend, I will no longer supply you with cake, or candy, or ice cream, or anything with more than 300 milligrams of sugar per serving.”
L passed his fingers over his lips contemplatively. “That is not acceptable,” he mused, shaking his head to himself. “I will have to procure my own supply.”
“I will restrict your use of funds.”
“I will shoplift.”
“You will not.”
Unfortunately, it was true, L would not lower himself to thievery. Further, it was just a bother. He sighed.
“Is this negotiable?”
“To an extent.”
Thus began a heated debate. Sparing the excruciating details of the bartering, L and Watari finally came to a compromise. Having already completed multiple degrees, L had the ability to earn a bachelor’s degree in nearly any subject in a year or less. He was free to choose any program that he had not already earned a degree in. He chose mathematics, and promised to attend for only one semester, which was the best Watari could get out of him. He was not allowed to travel for cases. He was only allowed one computer. He was required to live in the dorms. Watari would remain in the country, within a 100-mile radius of L’s school. He would travel back to the Wammy house to oversee L’s successors on occasion. Watari and the other children at the Wammy house would assist in cases L would not be able to solve without travelling.
L could work remotely on cases, which was the issue he lobbied for the hardest. Watari conceded too easily, which made L curse and wish he had lobbied for blanket travel rights, but it was too late. L was off to university.
~
Light Yagami stepped onto the terminal at the SeaTac airport and took his first breaths of American air. It smelled like people and stress, which made him wrinkle his nose, so he stepped aside to stand by a window and took a moment to collect himself.
He took his phone off airplane mode and got a bombardment of texts and messages from his sister Sayu.
Let me know when you land!
Take pictures from the airplane!
Did you get a window seat??
Anybody sitting next to you?
How long is your flight? Jeez.
Hope your plane didn’t crash. Lemme know how everything goes. Love you!
-mom said I should stop texting you so much since you can’t read them yet anyway. Call me when you’re there!
Light situated his suitcase against the wall and sat upon it gently, crossing his legs. He looked around at the other travelers and noted that he was one of the best-dressed passengers leaving the plane. He couldn’t understand how all these people could be comfortable going out in public practically in their pajamas, even if they had just gotten off of an overnight flight.
He straightened his collar and rubbed his eyes. He had been awake for nearly a day by now and unfortunately still had several hours to go before he could sleep off his jet lag.
Nearly the moment he opened his messenger app, Say must have seen that he read the messages, because his phone was ringing.
“Hello?”
“Light! How was the flight? Why didn’t you call me sooner?”
“I just got off the plane, Sayu, calm down. I didn’t forget about you,” he laughed into the receiver as his sister complained.
“How’s America?”
“Oh, it’s –” he looked around at the people milling about, lost in their own little worlds, many talking way too loudly to be socially acceptable. “American. Loud.”
“Oh yeah, I can hear that. Do you want me to send you some earplugs?”
“I’m sure I can find some at any drugstore, Sayu, don’t bother with that,” he said. “Just be sure to get my boxes sent as soon as I text you my mailbox, okay?”
“Sure thing, I already promised I would.”
“Just tell me how much the shipping is and I’ll send you the money.”
“Oh, don’t worry. I’m sure Mom and Dad will help.”
Light doubted that, somehow.
“How are they?”
Sayu hesitated for a moment. “Oh, uh, they miss you, Light. I gotta tell them you’re on the ground now, though, so I’ll chat with you later?”
It was obvious that Sayu was uncomfortable with this string of conversation. There had been a tension between Light and his parents since he made the decision to go abroad to university. They had wanted him to go to a prestigious Japanese institute like To-Oh, hopefully to study criminal justice and follow in his father’s footsteps.
“Yeah, sure, Sayu,” Light said as he stood up. “I love you.”
“I love you too. Have a good – Oh! Did you see anybody named L-loyd?” she was almost too busy giggling to get the words out. Light subconsciously rubbed his left wrist, which was covered by a stiff carpel tunnel brace. True, he had a bit of carpel tunnel, but the reason he wore his wrist brace constantly was different.
“Goodbye, Sayu,” he said firmly, trying not to smile at her laugh. “Be good.”
She huffed into the phone and hung up.
As he approached baggage claim and waited for his checked bags to come down the carousel, Light considered his plan for the next few hours. He had arranged for an Uber to meet him in an hour at the front of the airport, which would cart him to Wundt University.
He had two checked bags, one a large suitcase and one a hefty duffel bag. His carry-on was a smaller suitcase, and his personal item was his school backpack. He had brought with him all he could fit: his laptop and notebooks were a necessity, so he had stuffed his backpack with all of his school supplies. In his larger suitcase were the toiletries he was afraid he could not find here in America. He was rather particular about his hygiene regimen, and had heard horror stories of the harsh soaps and oily shampoos that America had in their stores.
His smaller suitcase and duffel bag held as much of his wardrobe as he could fit. Unfortunately, he had no room for his bedding, aside for a small blanket, and a travel pillow, which he had bought from a shop before his connecting flight to SeaTac. It was what he would be sleeping on until his boxes from home, which Sayu would be shipping to him, arrived.
After acquiring all of his bags, which took so long that Light was tired of standing in place, he found a small bench and held all of his belongings close to himself in a tight hug. His parents were not approving of his move away from home, but his father had drilled into him that he needed to keep positive control on all of his belongings in an airport, lest he risk them being stolen. He couldn’t afford to replace any of the things he’d brought, so he heeded that advice.
He absently touched his wrists. The change in altitude must have caused some swelling in his joints because the skin was particularly sensitive around the edges of the braces. Looking around, he debated whether it would be too revealing to unclasp the braces and massage his skin for a moment.
He lowered his left wrist into his lap where it was hidden by his bags around him. He unstrapped the brace and exposed his red skin to the cold air, sighing in relief as he lightly scratched.
On the inside of his wrist were two bold gothic letters, LL. That was his soulmark.
It was inappropriate, at least in Japan, to expose your soulmark to the public. Most people were lucky enough to have theirs (if they had one, of course) on a part of their body not usually exposed anyway, like their stomach or the bottom of their foot. Anything but the arms. Light was incredibly unlucky to have to deal with such a placement.
LL. Those were the initials of his soulmate. The letters had appeared slowly throughout puberty, beginning as an unclear blemish. Over the years, it had darkened and refined into the clear western characters.
His parents had been disappointed when he finally showed them what it turned out to be. They had hoped for his soulmate to be a nice Japanese girl, whose given name ought to have appeared in the place of this mysterious LL. As the letters cleared, his parents lost the ability to pretend that they were going to reveal themselves to be Kanji, after all. The soulmark appeared in the soulmate’s handwriting, so they had held out hope that perhaps their penmanship was just sloppy.
Not so.
Whoever these initials belonged to had very distinctive handwriting. Impossibly neat, impossibly gothic, impossibly like a font. Light thought it was ridiculous.
He reached into his backpack to pull out a small tube of moisturizer and spread it onto his raw skin.
That’s what Sayu had meant when she asked him about ‘L-loyd’, which was just Lloyd with both L’s pronounced. She thought she was terribly funny, and when Light was in a good mood, he humored her.
His parents had a suspicion that the reason he wanted to go abroad was to find his soulmate. Don’t waste your education chasing dreams, they had warned him with distaste. They didn’t want him to dedicate his life to finding his soulmate and neglect his education.
As if Light would let himself go so far. He came to America to get away from his father and his father’s reputation. If he so happened to find his soulmate while he was here in the West, that was just a bonus.
Light fixed the braces back on his wrist and pocketed the lotion. He felt much better. Not much longer after, he got a text saying that his Uber driver was at the departure pickup point. He hoisted his bags on his shoulders and rolled with his suitcases out the sliding doors, ready to finally reach his new home and sleep off his jet lag.