L never expected to be so distracted during an investigation, especially one as critical as the Kira case. But every time he visited Light’s neighborhood, there you were—unintentionally stealing his focus.

You were just a neighbor, living your life, completely unaware of the intricate web of lies and danger woven around you. Yet, every time L saw you, his heart betrayed him, skipping a beat.

One afternoon, as he lingered near Light’s home, you appeared around the corner, a grocery bag in hand and a soft hum escaping your lips. The sunlight caught in your hair, and for a moment, L forgot his purpose, his role as the world’s greatest detective.

—“Good afternoon,” he murmured, his voice softer than usual.

You smiled warmly, pausing in your steps.

—“Afternoon. Nice day, isn’t it?”

He nodded, his gaze never leaving yours. In the chaos of hunting Kira, your brief interactions became his rare moments of peace.

As you walked away, your figure retreating into the distance, L found himself lingering longer than he should. This wasn’t part of the plan. Getting close, forming attachments—it was dangerous. But for the first time, he wondered if maybe, just maybe, it was a risk worth taking.