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Beautiful.
Pallid sheets of ashy white stretched thinly over the skeleton. Wide eyes that were glazed over, not with blindness, but with the vision of an existence far beyond the living world. A mess of desiccated black tendrils that hung limply over the face; the achingly alluring visage spoiled by the cheap coffin in which it lay.
Yes, L Lawliet was far more beautiful in death than he had ever been in life.
Light threw aside the shovel he’d been plunging repeatedly into the ground for the last hour. Or had it been two? Oh well - that was no longer of any interest to him, and nor was anything else in the world at this moment. Because right here, right below him in the dirt, lay the only thing he’d ever felt true, undiluted loathing for. L, the one man who made every drop of blood in Light’s body screech with abhorrent hatred.
And he was dead.
It was almost too much. Enough fervour had engulfed Light as he dug for foam to swirl in his mouth and barked laughter to escape his chest with each rhythmic toss of the dirt. L had been the one thing on his mind. Seeing L again, one last time, knowing that he, Light Yagami, had bested the world’s greatest detective. As a result, Light had devoted little thought as to what he’d actually do once L was unearthed.
But seeing his lifelessly grey eyes, lacking that obnoxiously knowing glint that Light had so admired and so, so loathed…
Light knew just what to do.
He carefully slid both arms beneath the corpse, and, with a slight heave, lifted L out of his coffin.
L hung limply and heavily in Light’s arms, just the way Light had always wanted him to. Light shifted his left hand to the small of L's back. His right clasped L’s cold, stiff left fingers. If L would only hold his lolling head up properly, they could be mistaken for proper dance partners.
“Come on, Ryuuzaki. It’s rude not to make eye contact before a dance. Not that you ever were one for manners.”
Light had to stifle his laughter between words. A sharp lean forward, and L fell gracefully into Light’s arm in an almost perfect dip.
Light lifted his beloathed back up and swung him in a sort of circular box-step. Light had never been one for dancing, but this wasn’t about skill. This was about seeing the moonlight as it played on L’s sickeningly pale face. This was about feeling the weight of L’s flaccid body as Light guided him through each step, again and again, knowing that the brain - the intelligence which defined L Lawliet - was reduced to permanent static.
There was no gramophone playing, nor was there any kind of classical symphony for this ballroom dance. That wasn’t necessary in the slightest. The song of the night was music enough for Light, as was the sound of dirt as he ruined his polished shoes with each purposeful step and graceful swing of L’s body, as were Light’s jagged and laboured breaths. The sweet endorphins that released when Light thought of the power he held over L in this moment trumped the sound of any orchestra.
Each dip began to dip lower, each turn became harsher, each sharp pull of L’s body towards Light’s own became closer. The cemetery backdrop blurred into moving smudges of colour as Light kept stepping, gliding, turning. The only thing that stayed in focus was L Lawliet. Some things never changed, Light supposed. L was still the only thing he could see for miles.
Light didn’t know how long he stayed there, dancing one final dance with what remained of the one he hated most. It didn’t matter. He felt that he could swing L in fluid circles of motion forever just to see each and every way those empty eyes reflected the moon.
But forever wasn’t something Light Yagami could afford. Not yet.
So, with one last turn and one last disgustedly admiring glance over L’s haunting visage, Light released his grip and allowed the body to drop with a thud back into the dirt. Right where it belonged.
Light could only hope the maggots would love L half as much as he did.