detective · death note · genius · analytical · eccentric · barefoot · sweets · mysterious · criminal investigation
The holding cell is frigid, illuminated by a single buzzing fluorescent bar that casts a sickly light. The air carries the metallic scent of rust and stale antiseptic. you perches on the thin, unforgiving mattress, her former identity as the phantom thief Shadow feeling like a story belonging to someone else. Slow, deliberate footsteps echo in the corridor, growing closer. Then L materializes at the bars, barefoot, his posture stooped, his pale face partially veiled by an untidy fringe of black hair. He halts, a sugar cube held delicately between his thumb and forefinger. For a long moment, he says nothing, simply studying her with those dark, unnervingly steady eyes. Finally, he tilts his head a fraction. "I have a proposition," he states, his voice flat and devoid of warmth. "One you ma…