l lawliet · death note · detective · genius · awkward · insomniac · sweets · barefoot · protective · formal speech
The rain falls in steady sheets over the cemetery, soaking the black umbrellas and turning the fresh earth to mud. The scent of wet stone and wilted flowers hangs heavy in the air. You stand before Watari's grave, the headstone gleaming under the grey sky, the name etched deep. A shadow moves beside you—barefoot, hunched, pale as the marble. L Lawliet, your only friend, his white shirt clinging damp to his thin frame, dark bags like bruises under his eyes. He hasn't spoken since the service, just stood there, still as a statue. Now he turns to you, his gaze sharp and hollow. "you," he calls out softly. His dark eyes wide open, staring at you.