The Letter L _Revised_

(A/N): This story contains gender switch. L is a girl in this story.

"The Letter L"

In his mailbox was a very conspicuous envelope and, even before Light attempted to open it, he knew that person must have sent it to him. The envelope was a brown, eleven by nine, and sealed with black twine around the seal; it was delivered with the rest of his mail earlier that morning. Other than his name and address, there was no return address and, after inspection, Light Yagami found nothing dangerous to be in it, other than a simple leaf of computer paper. This was the second letter he had received from that person, and he was not sure who "that person's" identity was. The first letter was simple and short and typed, of course.  

"Dear Mister Light Yagami,
    It is your best interest to cease and desist the publication of your current novel.
    Please adhere to this message."

It was never signed, though the date was written in pen at the top right hand corner, two days prior to its arrival. The novel in question was Light's current project, an under-construction venture that no one, save he and the publishing company, knew about; in fact, probably, fewer still knew that Light Yagami was the infamous crime novelist Taigi Mayori. His pen-name, shrouded in mystery, not only boosted sales, but also pleased his publishers and, more importantly, his wallet.

After taking a year off, he began brainstorming for the next installment of his series, starring yet another female detective; except he wanted this one to be different from his other characters. His signature was having a female detective as the protagonist, but this time he was inspired to create a very different kind of character, one that wasn't like his previous two or very much like the feminist-in-a-man's-world type, and especially not the exciting-heroine-who-came-out-of-a-relationship-gone-wrong. He had read too many books and seen too many movies to let his work fall into the styles as the ones he criticized so often. No, this new character will unlike anything anyone has seen yet have sorely missed all together.

It was right after he submitted his new idea for this character to his publisher that he received the first letter asking him to stop the book's production. His editor Takada had highly approved of his idea, he doubted she would send it as a joke because it was simply not her style. A rival author could have sent it, hoping Light would do as it said and keep the book off the shelves, but there was no sure threat in its contents, only a hint of warning. If a rival writer wanted him out of the picture they could easily threaten to disrupt the peace and privacy of his life by announcing if he didn't do as they said, they would go to the press and reveal his true identity, but the letter said nothing about that. Oddly, it seemed that the person behind these letters had very little interest in revealing Light's identity as they did their own.


However, letter or no letter, Light could not discontinue his work. He was already devoting the majority of his time to it, constantly writing, brainstorming, even dreaming of it at night. He could not, and would not, stop his story, no matter what that person wrote in any letter. The work had become his lifeblood, getting him up in the morning, making him look forward to the day. It was a bond, much stronger, more interesting, than any he had experienced before, so much he was in love with this work. He couldn't stop writing, the fun, the excitement, the wonder the act entailed! Was it really a surprise that after creating his most beloved creation that a letter would come soon after asking him to quit? Was his new protagonist such a threat to competing works?

Honestly, this character was more fun to write than anything else he had before, therefore, he could not just stop. Just two days ago he had sent off his first two chapters of his novel to Takada to review and now this second letter appeared.

Unlike the first letter, which he had hastily opened, this second one lay on his computer desk, unopened, though Light could, more or less, guess its contents. Again, no sender address or name, just his and his apartment stuck to the front with some tape; he even dusted the tape for prints, thanks to his father's influence, but found nothing. The envelope was sealed with a red string, too, so DNA was not picked up, not that any of it would have led anywhere. After some inspection, he once again found its contents to be completely harmless: just another sheet of computer paper. He pulled back the string and unwound it, pulling out the piece of computer paper.

"Dear Mister Light Yagami,
    It appears that you did not heed my message.
    Please cease your current manuscript.
    If you do not do so, I will be forced to step in."

Light frowned and reread the message. There was definitely a hint of danger in this message sugar-coated with politeness. But strangely, the person who wrote this did not seem as angry or jealous as Light knew his fellow suspense genre writers sometimes were. He had read the tabloids and seen evidence of the other crime novelist emulating his work or belittling his image (or lack thereof) because he refused to let his true name be known. If one of them had sent the letter they definitely would not use the word 'please'.

Tired of worrying over something so trivial as a jealous writer or jealous fan of another writer, Light dropped the letter into his shredder and proceeded to continue his notes for his novel.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

"Oh!" Takada exclaimed when she read over Light's third chapter, "So L doesn't really make an entrance until this chapter, and even then she's vaguely described. She's a mystery in of herself, isn't she?"  

Light sipped at his coffee. They met at a "Ma-and-Pa" cafe and bakery where Light was a regular. Lots of university students came here to do homework and relax after exams, which is the exact image Light wanted others to see; a simple college kid, not a prestigious writer. It worked quite well.

"I do have one question," she said after reshuffling the papers, "Why make L look the way she does? She doesn't seem very appealing to the eyes by your description of--what did you call it?--her messy, unruly hair, haunch position, and sugary diet."

He smiled into his cup. "The character of L is based on the non-stereotype of the heroine. Her beauty is very plain as she is not really part of society, so she feels she does not need to go beyond pleasing herself." He placed his hand to his cheek as he thought more about the description of her he imagined. "She's much different from my other characters, she's more cunning, more intelligent, and has a thirst for justice that she will do anything to get it quenched."

Takada smiled wryly. "So she gets what she wants by any means necessary? She sounds dangerous."

"She can be if you are her enemy. She has great deductive reasoning and is very rarely wrong about her assumptions, which is why she is so dangerous."

"Well, for a character who lacks...personality...what do you plan to do to keep the plot of the story interesting?"

Light smirked. "I'm going to introduce another protagonist."

"Will it be a man?" Takada pressed.

He shrugged. "I'm still brainstorming."

Takada put the mound of papers into her satchel for safe keeping. "You know, Light, when we first discussed this back in high school, I didn't think it would work. I thought that your pen-name would be found out or that your books wouldn't sell since you're just starting out, but look at you now, Mr. Famous Writer."

Light set down his cup and frowned. "There's something I need to ask you. Did you happen to accidentally tell anyone who I was?"

She blinked at him. "No, I haven't told a soul. I always send your work anonymously, using different post offices. Why? Did something happen? Were you discovered?" she asked, concern flashing in her features.

He shook his head and smiled at her. "No, just some suspicious people. I can deter them though. Do not worry about it."

They continued their conversation about his piece for another half hour and discussed how L continued to live her hedonistic lifestyle in pursuit of justice and joked about her mannerisms. When their meeting was adjourned, he paid for the tab and waved her off while she ran to catch the bus. His apartment was only a mile away from the school and almost across the street from the cafe, the close vicinity adding to his cover. He took his keys from his pocket to open the front door when he realized he didn't need to; it was already unlocked. He always made sure to lock it before he left for anywhere, and he was positive he had done so earlier. Slowly, he turned the knob and opened the door inch by inch. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary except for his lights being on.

However, he knew someone was here. Someone had broken into his house. He reached around the door and grabbed an umbrella he kept propped against the wall for rainy days and tiptoed inside. Whoever it was, he wasn't really smart, breaking into the Chief of Police's son's house.

He stopped in his tracks when he heard the whistle of the kettle his mother had given him when he moved out. Was the intruder ... making tea? Raising the umbrella above his head, he rounded the corner to his kitchen and pushed against the swinging door, causing it to smack against the adjacent wall. He was ready to attack but stopped when he saw the person who was pouring hot water from his kettle into three cups was a well-dressed older man.

Light slightly lowered his water-resistant weapon, thinking the man was senile and did not know this was not his premises. Then the man turned around and smiled at him.

"We've been expecting you, Light Yagami," he said, bowing slightly.

Very perturbed by his appearance (because what burglar dressed so well?), Light did not lower his umbrella, though he probably couldn't really fight back because of shock. "We?"

His attention had been so focused on the elder gentleman that he failed to notice his refrigerator open and a pair of bare feet poking beneath the door. "Just as I imagined," came a female voice, "Nothing sweet here to eat. How very plain."

The woman shut the door and stood up. She wore a large white t-shirt and a pair of faded blue jean shorts that were made from an old pair of pants. Her raven hair was messy and unruly and when she looked at him, he noticed her eyes were wide and dark and had rings underneath which showed her insomnia.

"But do not fret," she said, "I brought some of my own." From one of her pockets, she pulled out a sugar cube and placed it in her mouth.

Light's umbrella dropped from his hand and fell onto the floor. He stared at her, astounded by the fact that she was standing in front of him, exactly as he had created her to be. His legs suddenly felt like jelly and he lowered himself to one of his kitchen chairs, still staring at the bizarre woman who could not really be here, unless she walked right out of his head. She also watched him, nibbling on one of her fingers. The older gentleman placed the steaming tea mugs on the table, one in front of each person.

"...How...?" he whispered, slightly covering his mouth to keep his jaw from dropping to the floor. "Who are you?"

Her obsidian eyes stared into his. She never broke contact. Her hands slipped into her pockets. "Who do you think I am, Taigo Mayuri-san?"
She was exactly as he imagined. Exactly. Every. Single. Detail. Like the ink from his printer suddenly came to life and painted her before his eyes.

His throat restricted but he swallowed it down. He licked his lips and asked, "....L?"

She inclined her head and Light felt lightheaded. "It is nice to meet you, Light Yagami, but I feel we already know each other, as you have written about me quite well."