Light sneezed violently. Rubbing his nose absently, he sat up on his bed. His sleep-encrusted eyes registered that it was already five in the evening. He had been asleep for three hours, though his surroundings showed no sign on the passage of time. The weather outside was just as rainy and miserable as it had been when he had fallen asleep.

With one hand, he tried to push his damp hair out of his eyes. His forehead, as that hand brushed it, still felt warm to touch. His fever had not gone down after all. Light smiled wryly. On the outside, he was the god of a new world of peace and order. That aside, however, he was just as vulnerable to sickness as the next person. How harshly does God remind us humans of our mortality, he thought bitterly.

Light turned to stare out of the misted window. The mood was just the same as it was that day, when L… No, he would not think about that. He could not think about that: the way he fell so gracefully from his chair; the way his round staring eyes softened into a peaceful expression; the way his white lips were frozen forever in a smile of victory…

An opponent worthy of him… a friend worthy of him. How he missed those intelligent eyes and queer habits!

Oh Ryuzaki… But you were too clever for your own good. In the end, I had to… Light tried to console himself, denying the tears that had welled up in the corners of his eyes.

Light sneezed again, his eyes closing momentarily to his blurry reflection in the window. When he opened them again, he was staring straight at L! Light nearly choked.

“Ryuzaki! I…” Light floundered for words.

L looked up calmly from the slice of cake in his left hand. In his right was a fork, held gingerly between his forefinger and thumb, which he pointed at Light. “Ahh, Light-kun. Nice to see you again.”

“But… but you’re dead!” Light spluttered, feeling confused for the first time in his life. “The Shinigami killed you with the Death Note.”

“Oh… Am I?” L stared thoughtfully at Light for a moment, then broke into a grin. “But there’s cake here, so I must be in heaven, right?” L speared off a bit of cake and put it into his mouth, closing his eyes in happiness.

“But it seems that Light-kun is sick, right?” L chewed his bit of cake slowly, then swallowed.

“I… Yeah…”

“Remember the day I died, Light-kun?” L asked. He let go of his cake and fork, which floated off into non-existence. “Remember our chat on the rooftop? And the foot massage I gave you after that?”

Light nodded, his throat too tightly constricted with melancholy to speak. L smiled softly at his best friend. Getting out of the crouch that was his usual sitting posture, L seemed to walk out of the window pane and into Light’s room. Sitting at the foot of Light’s bed, L reached under the blanket and held Light’s numb feet in his soft, warm hands. He rubbed and squeezed until the blood circulation returned.

“I could never find a person whom I could talk to on the same level, Ryuzaki…” Light murmured, his eyes half-closed from drowsiness. “Not until I found you... Please don’t leave me again. I need you. I need a companion if I am to become god…”

Getting up, L drew Light into a tight hug, his large hands sending shivers of pleasure up the latter’s spine beneath his damp pyjamas. “I love you too, Light-kun,” he whispered in his friend’s ear. “If only circumstances had been different…”

Light held on firmly to L’s white T-shirt, afraid that if he were to let go, his best friend would disappear, leaving him alone in this dreary world once more. Nothing could separate them now, not even death…

Except…

There was a soft knock on the door. Startled, Light opened his eyes and sat up so quickly that he nearly hurt his back. He looked at the clock. It was five in the afternoon. There was no sign of L. So it had been all a dream…

“Come in,” Light called, repressing a sigh of disappointment. It had been so real. Even now, he could almost feel L’s arms around his chest, strong yet gentle…

The door opened, and Misa came in, bearing a tray of something steaming hot. “Up already Light-kun?” she greeted him cheerfully. “I brought some chicken soup. I cooked it myself, with your mother’s help, of course. She’s such a wonderful cook…” Misa chatted on as she pulled a chair up beside Light’s bed and started spooning the soup into his mouth.

Light neither heard a word she said, nor tasted a drop of the soup she fed him. He turned to the window again and stared. Once again, L was there, beside him, watching him eat. Catching his glance, the dark-haired youth winked, and then he was gone, leaving Light with feelings of remorse and sorrow.

---------------------------------------------------

Blessed Christmas, one and all!

Ja~