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As of now, none of the specialised organisations have been able to find the source of these marks….[a researcher] has mentioned that the technology needed would be far beyond what is available in modern times.
— Chapter 18, “On Soulmarks”, from “An Elementary Guide to Human Anatomy” by Dr. Kanemoto Minori, P.H.D.
It was stupid, he’d always thought. It went against every law of nature, every law of science, every law that should’ve made sense yet, when the time came, simply just…stopped.
It wasn’t something Light Yagami could accept easily, yet it was there, all the same.
The pawn mark on his wrist, coloured red and outlined in blue. And of course, the timer—ticking back from 3 days.
He pulled his sleeve down, scoffing— red and blue? Such a terrible colour scheme, Sayu would make fun of him for sure—and oh, yes, he needed to tell her not to get too obsessed about soulmates and the like, to instead focus on whatever mattered. Not Hideki Ryuga, or whoever the hell her new crush was.
As if having a soulmate would deter him from what he needed to do, anyhow.
Somehow, most marks appeared after university graduation—simply another way he was quicker than the rest, Light supposed. Not that it really mattered.
Whoever this supposed ‘soulmate’ was, hopefully they would keep their nose right out of his business, then.
As expected, Sayu teased him, his mother simply smiled, and his father felt pleased enough to let out a grunt—one of his happier ones, Light might add.
Everything was falling into place, and if Light saw himself from outside his body, he would think that this was what it was all meant to be like.
Free will was overrated in this world, he’d always thought.
And the day rolled around (“ It’s D-Day, brother, how can you not be excited?” Sayu interjected) as normally as all the other days in his seventeen years. His entrance ceremony, and it just had to be the end of the three days as well—free will had decided Light Yagami was apparently undeserving of a break.
He would laugh.
The sakura blossoms drifted around him as he made his way to the entrance hall.
Looking around, Light spotted a suspicious person nearby, decked out in only a simple white tee and jeans, even on such a momentous occasion as this . And his back was curved like a shrimp—did he walk like one, too? At this rate, he wouldn’t be surprised.
Shaking his head, he walked right past the man without bothering to give him a second glance—ah, the poor soul who’d get shanghaied along with that weirdo. The world was never short of them, or so it seemed.
(Unfortunately, Fate does have a way of kicking you in the ass, especially when you least expect it.)
“...and now, we shall be inviting two students to give the customary opening ceremony speeches!” the announcer said, with forced aplomb.
Light, who had been stifling a yawn, jerked up in his seat at the unwelcome feeling of surprise.
He’d scored a full for the examinations, for fuck’s sake, probably the first recorded student in history to do so, and now—what, this guy did too? Had there been some mix-up?
But he very well couldn’t be seen with any kind of displeasure on his face, so he pulled himself together, making his way up the stage, smiling vacantly at the sea of faces beneath him.
And— oh my god , you had to be kidding him. The weird guy?
Seriously ?
The guy offered him a smile that looked like a grimace, and Light, not wanting to be rude, did the same.
He introduced himself as L—no last name, nothing, just the letter L , what kind of an introduction was that? —and began talking, while Light found himself wondering how they must look next to each other, the polished genius next to an eccentric mad scientist. What a funny duo, indeed, though really only one half was the funny one.
When he was done, Light stepped up to the podium and dutifully recited a speech that he immediately forgot the moment he finished, which was remarkable, but judging by the looks on the students’ faces, it was memorable by their standards. Which was somewhat saddening.
And just like that the day was over.
As he walked off the stage, though, Light couldn’t help but sneak a backwards glance at L. Perhaps university wouldn’t be as boring as expected, if it was populated with these kinds of weirdos.
When he got home, only then did Light remember about the timer, but when he pulled his sleeve up it had already reached zero. Which was fine by him; he had all the time he spent at university to find them, after all, if he so desired.
Rather quickly into the first few weeks of school, however, Light quickly discovered—somewhat unpleasantly—that L was one of a kind in his weirdness.
He was alarmingly smart, perhaps even on par with Light’s own intelligence, yet while Light was the smart kid who was well-liked by both teachers and students alike, thought of as being a natural leader and voted into class president at a rate that beat his previous records, L was the smart kid who was—well. Pretty much disliked by everyone, which was a feat that was almost impressive considering most people gravitated towards intelligent ones.
And Light also quickly discovered, with a plunging feeling in the bottom of his stomach, that he hated the guy.
He was used to having no-one except the teacher understand what his debate was all about, after all, and hence having only one person respond in kind, but now there was a second person who understood everything as well, and who would stand up in class for the sole purpose of rebutting Light’s argument and nothing else.
And the most depressing part was that his points were good .
Add that to a weird disposition, the hunched back, the manners that were definitely not learned in Japan, and you get an insufferable guy.
It was sad that almost all Light’s classes were together with L’s.
Which meant, of course, heated debates that took up almost a quarter of the class’s time, and intellectual sparring that meant Light could no longer spend class daydreaming or doing things in his head to ease off on the boredom.
Each day was no longer dragging on—instead, it made him more eager to win than ever before, to win a stupid argument against a stupidly smart man in a class that was stupidly basic.
And there was once he beat L. Light didn’t think he’d ever forget that—it was a Philosophy class, on a Wednesday on the second week of school, and Light had just successfully demolished L’s critique on Hegel’s Philosophy of Nature, an argument that he had spent two sleepless days preparing for until even Sayu noticed ( “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you work that passionately for anything after you quit tennis” ), and for the first time, L had nothing more to say.
His head raised for a little, apparently deep in thought, then gave a little shrug, as if to say: I concede, you win. And L sat down. It was as simple as that.
And for the first time Light felt something that resembled victory.
His classmates clapped, a few of them whooping. His teacher smiled and nodded in a show of approval.
But he wasn’t looking at them, Light was looking at L, looking to see the expression on his face.
L turned, as if he knew Light would look at him all along, and another flash of that annoyance niggled at his victorious feeling. And he smiled .
Not the grimace of the entrance ceremony, not the tiny quirk of lips whenever he was listening to Light elaborate on his points, a real, human smile that was probably more sincere than anything Light had ever seen, had ever done in his life of seventeen years.
He blinked, and L shifted around in his seat again to face the teacher.
…what’s with this guy, he thought, even as someone (Aoi?) laughed loudly in his ear.
Light shook the strange feeling off him, and the familiar and therefore unscary urge to utterly demolish L’s face came back.
Physical Education had always been one of the classes Light favoured more. Perhaps it was unexpected, even unbecoming of a model student to harbour such thoughts, but the other classes he had were simply so boring that P.E. was the only way to lighten things up a little.
And it was the tennis module this semester, which was something Light was good at and liked, a combination that very rarely appeared after he dropped out of the tennis team three years back.
The teacher shouted for them to choose their partners, and Light turned around almost instinctively, though he didn’t know who he was looking for.
Unfortunately for him, though, L was standing right behind him, swinging his tennis racket absentmindedly around. “Light-kun, I hear you were the tennis champion in middle school for a while…? If my sources were correct, that is?”
Who even says ‘sources’?
“For three years running,” Light added, and he could feel L’s smile even before it spread over his face.
“I lived in Britain for a while,” L replied, still with that same tone of voice, as if it was nothing remarkable to move all the way to Japan. “And I was the champion there, too.”
Even Light knew an invitation when he heard it.
He shrugged. “Sure, let’s play.”
Like all good things, it was over before he knew it.
“Yagami, set and match,” his teacher said, and Light realised that the entire class was crowding around their court, annoying in their screams and applause, and there was no longer the feeling of victory—he wasn’t accustomed, in fact, to what the feeling was .
He’d won six sets to five; it was a close shave, a closer victory than he’d liked, but something about it felt right and Light supposed he could no longer deny that they were always meant to compete against each other. The thought was inherently depressing, all the same.
L shook his hand—a habit he’d picked up from Britain, perhaps? —and just as quickly as they’d come, the crowd dispersed, going back to their own matches.
Light stared at L. This was the first time they’d been so close to each other, he thought, so close that he could see each individual strand on L’s head, and something about it seemed wrong . Like in another time, they would’ve never met like this at all.
“Why did Light-kun quit tennis after middle school?” L asked, and it was enough to snap Light out of his uncharacteristic daze.
He shrugged. “It wasn’t any big reason, really, I just didn’t want to play anymore.” Out of habit, Light cast his gaze to the side, smiling a it-was-nice-to-meet-you-but-let’s-not-be-too-close smile, before he remembered that the person he was talking to wasn’t Masahiko, wasn’t Aoi, wasn’t even Aiko, but L.
He turned his gaze back onto L, meeting his eyes—they looked black from afar but up here were actually dark brown, a strange colour from someone who was supposedly a foreigner.
“Really?” L observed. “When we were playing just now, Light-kun seemed very happy, though.”
Light opened his mouth, waiting for a well-prepared word or phrase or sentence to spring to the surface—but nothing came out.
L smiled this time, and in another situation Light would’ve thought it was mocking.
Thankfully, L doesn’t chase it anymore, simply saying, ‘Why don’t we continue, then, since Light-kun enjoys it.”
They managed to squeeze in a few rallies before the bell went, and Light had half a mind to keep talking with L before he was intercepted by his overly talkative classmates, and he felt half-grateful, half-annoyed.
He’d won both matches, but somehow, he didn’t feel like he’d really won at all.
Over the course of the next week—perhaps the catalyst was the debate, or the tennis match, or the awe that other classmates were starting to treat them with (well, more Light than L) —Light found himself together with L more often than ever.
It started small, with things like L emailing him articles he thought Light would find interesting (the first was one written by a Ryuzaki person, with many points rebutting Light’s philosophy argument on that day, and Light got so mad he nearly decided to block L right then and there, and then maybe slam his computer into the other man’s face), and then slowly grew until they were sitting together at lunch, and then somehow, going to the library together, and at last managing to convince everyone except Light himself that Light and L, the two resident genii of To-Oh university, were very good friends.
It was a very impressive feat indeed, even by Light’s standards.
But he had to admit, being with L was probably one of the least stressful things that Light did throughout the day. First of all, it helped that L was much weirder than himself, and therefore wouldn’t judge. Secondly, he was smart, and probably one of the few people who could understand when Light went off on a tangent on a subject. Lastly, he was—well, a mystery wrapped in a white tee and blue jeans and hence Light found him very interesting.
L was, well, weird , to put it nicely. He wore the same outfit every day, ate nothing but a huge pile of desserts for breakfast, lunch and dinner, and once Light caught him staring at a washing machine and wondering out loud if he could use it to shower in the school after P.E.
But at other times, Light thought he was perhaps more human than any of them. He did have a way of surprising Light at times, with how empathetic L could be. How offhandedly he brought over things Light liked to eat, how casually he sent Light things that resembled him, how easy his care could be.
It was terrifying. Scary. It was the first time Light couldn’t predict what someone would do, and it was scaring him, because now he felt like a normal person.
And he didn’t really like it.
“You’ve been smiling more recently,” Sayu observed, chewing a bite of rice. “Is it ‘cause you’ve found your soulmate already? I can’t believe you didn’t tell us.”
“Stop talking while you’re eating. And no, I didn’t.”
“Then what are you smiling at?” Sayu, disregarding any sort of manners she still had left inside of her, used her chopsticks to point at Light’s phone.
Light frowned. “This?” He held it up for her to see. “It’s just a picture of a cat my friend sent me.” The caption read: I saw this stray cat just now and it reminded me of you.
“What kind of a name is ‘L’?”
He shrugged, taking his phone back. “It’s his name.”
“Ooh, mysterious…I like it.”
“Shut up.”
“Say, Light-kun…have you ever thought about soulmates before?” L asked, forking a piece of his strawberry cake into his mouth.
“...well, I guess so. I mean, who hasn’t thought about it before?” Light said.
“What do you think of it, then?” Perhaps deliberately, more likely unintentionally, L had dropped the indirect way he usually addressed Light with.
“I dunno,” Light admitted, twirling his fork absentmindedly around in the pile of noodles before him. “It just seems too easy, doesn’t it? Get a mark, a timer, find the person who’s the perfect match for you! And we still don’t know how it works, why it works, and there are still soulmates who divorce and people who love someone else, even though the rates of those are very low. And no-one talks about free will. If there’s all this soulmark and timer business, who’s to say that we have any kind of a choice in life? What if everything else is already written out for us, and we don’t have any say in the matter?”
He stopped, took a breath. “It’s just… scary .”
And it was scary that L could make him say so many truthful things just with a simple question. It was terrifying, and it made Light feel something, and he didn’t really like it but loved it at the same time, and he didn’t really understand what this all was at all.
L waved his fork about, thinking. “Hmm…the points Light-kun’s brought up are all rather interesting. I guess, though, that it would be better if the marks didn’t exist, or at least to pretend they don’t. It would be more freeing, I think, to see the soulmarks as a kind of guideline; they’ll help most people, but if you think it’s not right for you, you have the option to simply ignore it, and go about your life the way you would like to live it.”
He looked at Light. “I think it would be easier for many people if they thought that way.”
Light smiled, but he knew it was a second too late and he knew that L knew that he was a second too late. “I guess so.”
A week passed before L found Light sitting in the library.
Light was reading a book, some forgettable fantasy plot with an even more forgettable name, when he felt someone sit down opposite him.
“You’ve been avoiding me.” It wasn’t a question, just a flat-out statement, and Light thought that it was very fitting of L.
“Well,” Light said. “Just a little.”
He felt L’s frown even when his eyes were scanning across the book’s pages.
“Why is that?” And Light almost wanted to laugh—of course L would say that. Only L would ever dare to say that, ever dare to just come out and say things like that outright, because L was L.
He stayed silent, though, using the book as a cover instead of what it was intended for. It was more useful as a cover, anyway, the entire plot was terrible and Light was pretty sure he could write a better novel than this.
“Was it because of the soulmate thing?” L continued to probe.
Light set the book down. “Right, as always.”
L tilted his head. “Light-kun doesn’t like talking about soulmates. Why?”
Light avoided his gaze, staring at the table instead. He could make out every grain, just like Ryuzaki’s hair— “No reason.”
“I have a guess, but it’s a pretty bold one.”
“All your guesses are bold, anyhow—” And oh, no, Light could feel himself falling back into that L-rhythm as he called it, the kind of feeling that was comfortable and safe and something he could only ever feel around L.
And L knew an invitation when he heard one, Light had to give it to him.
“My guess is that you like me. Not platonically, but romantically. And you’re scared of the whole soulmate thing because you think that there’s a chance we couldn’t be soulmates, and you’re terrified society will judge us if we weren’t,” L stated blankly, characteristically so, and Ligh almost wanted to punch him in the face for having the audacity to figure out in five seconds what took Light three whole weeks to even realise at all.
“Right. As always. Now will you leave me—” Light began, but was cut off by the feeling of another mouth on his.
It was a terrible first kiss. It was in the middle of a sentence and all, so their teeth cracked together, and for the record, L’s lips were terribly chapped and Light really did not like the feeling of something so rough on his own, and he thought distractedly that he would need to lend L some of his lip balm maybe.
They pulled apart.
“That was fucking horrible,” Light said, but he could feel the smile all over his face. Damn L, damn him for making Light smile like this.
And he felt the burning of something against his wrist, and when he pulled down his sleeve, he could see the timer disappearing with a word: Found .
“Oh,” he said, and then L said “Let’s try that again”, and oh, god—Light Yagami didn’t call many things perfect in his life, but this time—it was absolutely perfect.