Manipulator (L Lawliet X Reader)

The Talk

L still had his back turned to me, crouched in that hunched over position he still held. His voice was the same, and, from what I could see, so was his hair and clothing. If only he'd turn around.

"This is Kitsune? How can you be so sure? If you knew her, shouldn't you turn around and see if it is actually her?" A boy who seemed a bit younger than me said, holding on to the back of L's chair. He was still typing away on his computer, not seeming willing to take a break. 

"I assure you, I am the person I say I am. Why would someone lie knowing that if they are caught in that lie, which would be so easy to confirm as a lie, then they would be sent to prison? I don't think someone who could make it this far is stupid enough to do that, do you?" Wammy translated my French to the task force. The boy seemed nervous, and I noticed a cold sweat start to form. He did not like me, I could tell. Just from the way he looked at me, his eyes gave away too much. The way he stiffened when I spoke. Something was up with this boy, and I'd later find out what it was. 

"He is right, I really should face you. I just do not know if I am ready to see her again," L's voice came, everyone's eyes traveling from me, to him, to me again. The room was in a stand still, before L spun his chair to face me. 

His face was about the same as all those years ago, just a bit more mature. His jaw had sharpened ever so slightly, his eye bags got darker, his posture got even worse, if you could believe it. Though, it was still just him. He didn't seem any different from when I had seen him. 

L, though, seemed skeptical of me. His eyes narrowed slightly, so slightly that I was sure no one else in the room had noticed. His form tensed, analysing my face carefully. L did not say a word as he stood from his chair, walking over to me, a bit too close for comfort. My heart beat hard in my chest, just like it used to when we were kids. After a solid five minutes of him just staring at my face, he backed away. 

"It is, no doubt, her," I let out a breath I was not aware I was holding. "May I have a word alone, then? Some things do not add up," I tensed, but nodded regardless. 

"Don't be trying to get a girlfriend, Ryuzaki. It's unprofessional," The brown haired young man called over his shoulder as we walked from the room. 

I chose to not ask L about the name, wordlessly following him through the building until we reached a room that seemed to be for deep discussions, which was rather fitting. He sat down at the couch, and Wammy came through the door seconds later, rolling a cart full of sweets. He then left the room, after being thanked my L. L took a slice of cake from the cart, and started to eat it without even glancing at me. 

"L, I want to get this discussion over with. What do you want from me?" L finally looked up at me with his deep eyes, and I was sure anyone else would've been scared from the look he was giving me, but I was unfazed. I had seen too much of L and been given that look too many times to care at that point, even if it was so long ago. 

"Very well," He said through a mouth full of icing, placing the plate down as he swallowed harshly. He hiked his legs up further, staring me directly in my e/c eyes, which swirled with curiosity. "Why did you not stay at the orphanage?" He placed a hand on the side of his face, leaning his cheek on his palm and looking at me with bored eyes. I could tell he was angry, but he was a rather calm person, even as a kid. "I wanted you to be my successor. I trusted you enough, and knew you would be good at what I do. Who will the title go to now?" I sighed. L wouldn't understand. 

Don't get me wrong, I understood his frustrations. He had a name to uphold, and he wanted the next person in line to be just as good as him, if not better. He knew I would get the job done. He just didn't understand people having their own goals, and them not being same as his. That was a flaw of his. He saw everything as work, and his goal would blind him from everything else.

"L, your goal in life may be justice, but mine isn't," His eyes widened, and he jolted, almost like he was going to shoot up and yell at me. "I was taken away from my mother, and I wanted to get back to her. I had told you that, and reminded you constantly when we were at Wammy's. You had to have known that I would escape and return to my mother one day. Really, if you didn't, then you were in denial," L 'tsk'ed', rolling his eyes before shutting them in frustration. 

"How selfish," I jumped, anger boiling from inside of me. "You would rather go back to your mother than save the lives of hundreds of people, acting as me after I die?" It was my turn to 'tsk' at him.

"Yeah, right. Look, I'd probably crumble under the pressure and end up ending it all before I solve a single case," L's eyes bored into mine, and I could see anger swirling in them. "Treating me as equal to the other kids in the orphanage was a mistake. I could never be your successor. I would never be able to handle having that name..." I trailed off, looking across the room into nothingness. "Plus, you have Near, or Mello, or Matt. I know they could do the job much better than I can," L shot up from his seat looking down at me with a glare I had never seen from him before. 

"Do not say that about yourself," He growled, and I jumped back, sinking into the cushions of the couch, my eyes wide. My breath hitched in my throat. For once, I was slightly scared of someone. This was a side of L I had never seen before, and I doubted many others had, either. "You would've been a great successor, that's why I wanted you. But you had to go find your mom and ruin it!" He was yelling, looming over the table, his hands flush to the wood. 

"Give it up, L. I was going to go back to my mother whether you wanted it or not. If I did not go to her when I was a kid, I'd go back to her once I turned eighteen and could legally leave the orphanage,"

"Selfish, that's what it is," He huffed out. I could practically see the irk mark on his forehead, poking out from under his fringe. 

"I'll tell you what's selfish: You trying to decide my life for me. If I would've stayed at the orphanage, my mother would've been dead ages ago!"

"And look what happened, she's dead anyway!" My words got lost in my throat as it tightened, and tears pricked the corners of my eyes. I was on my feet before I knew it, and my mouth was open before I could stop it.

"She's dead because of your inability to stop the monster of a person that killed her!"

It seemed like a blur, my travel through the building that ended with me in the task force office, the whole groups staring at me. 

I asked where Wammy was, to which they looked at each other confused. Wammy answered from behind me, and I asked for a phone number to call to contact him. With the number placed in my phone, I left the building. Wammy argued that I should stay in the building, saying it was dangerous to leave, but knew he could not stop me. 

I stepped out into the chilly air, wrapping my jacket tightly around my skinny form. Malnutrition as a child kept me small and thin, even as an adult. The air blew my hair as I walked down the sidewalk, my head whipping around furiously as I searched for somewhere to calm my nerves. Finally, after walking for about half an hour, I saw the neon lights of a bar in the distance.

I got the habit of drinking when I was stressed from my mom. It was something that we shared, our mother-daughter time for the rare time she agreed to come to my apartment. We would watch shitty movies as we drank, would end up shit-faced with horrible hang-overs the next morning. Despite the terrible pain we would be in, I cherished those moments with her. 

And so, I went in the pub, head held high. I prepared myself for a night of struggling to communicate. The guys at the door asked for my ID, but I offered them a bet. Name the next person that will drop from being so wasted. They guys were not so serious about their jobs, I could tell on sight. They were a bit loopy themselves. From weed or drinks, I couldn't tell. They also looked my up and down, and seemed to like what they saw, so they took up my bet. If I won, they'd let me in. If they won, they could buy me a drink. Either way, I won.

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The reader speaking French and not English (Because Britain, where reader lived before the move to Japan) will be revealed later on. I don't wanna get confused comments about it so I had to clarify it