My second story for whoever happens upon my stories.

I'll tell you now, I tried to make it less...depressing. But L didn't like it. Blame him. Please.

Enjoy!

The Shinigami looked inappropriately sleepy.

He – it looked like a he – was hunched over, hair and clothes all rumpled and deep black circles around his eyes. He seemed to be tall, as they were the same height even though the Shinigami was slouching. He looked pretty humanoid, very different to the usually depictions of the Shinigami and for a moment, Minato Namikaze wondered if he did the jutsu wrong.

But when he inspected the Shinigami again, Minato realised that this was no human.

For one, his eyes, even half closed – in sleep or disinterest, he did not know – were an eerie, blood red on yellow sclera and they seemed to glow. His hair, coal black and messy as it was, blew away from his face for a moment to reveal unnaturally discoloured skin and patches of which missing from his forehead. At his back, shadowy black wings were spread out on either side, unthreatening but still present. Minato wondered if there were slits at the back of his shirt for the extra appendages.

Nonetheless, the Shinigami looked like a hermit, if anything, as his skin was so pale it looked blue. He wasn't wearing shoes either. Minato was struck by the fact that the Shinigami looked plain bored, even with all the ruined land around them. But then again, Minato got the sense that the Shinigami was examining him just as critically as he was.

For a moment, everything went still.

"No."

Minato blinked. And stared. "What?"

The Shinigami's voice was startling low, yet perfectly loud enough for Minato to hear. It had a bored drawl yet a commanding duo-tone to it that had Minato mentally scrambling for reason. The Shinigami shifted slightly, inhuman eyes flicking over to the destroyed village and the angry red figure of the giant fox.

"No," he repeated.

"What do you mean 'no'?" Minato huffed, narrowing his eyes.

"It is illogical," said the Shinigami, ignoring Minato's frustration.

"I'll do anything," the Fourth growled. "For my village."

Red eyes blinked slowly at him. An awkward silence stretched.

"Humans are so foolish," sighed the Shinigami finally. He examined Minato carefully. "I have no interest in eating your soul," he declared dismissively.

Minato faltered slightly. "What do you want?"

The Shinigami smiled.

It wasn't a nice smile.

A hush fell upon the village as civilians and ninja slowly realised what had happened.

The hush didn't last long.

No, there was a roar of victory, of hope and light and the attack was finally over. Hundreds, if not thousands of people had died, yes. From children, to partners, to nobles, to shinobi, to kunoichi, to parents and to the Hokage himself. They celebrated on the streets, chanting the name of their blond leader and there was crying, screaming and yelling. But victory had been won. Victory.

"His name is Naruto," whispered Kushina in her last breaths.

From the top of the fourth head on the Hokage monument, two figures stood, unseen by any and all. "Are you done?" asked the black-haired one monotonously.

The second glanced back and a torn, pained expression fell on his features. "Will I come back?"

The Shinigami regarded the Fourth Hokage impassively, hands in pockets. "Maybe," he allowed vaguely. Red eyes flicked to the mess of numbers above the blond's head. A 72.91% chance, he mentally calculated. "One day."

Namikaze Minato surveyed the Hidden Village of Leaf one more time before turning away.

And he didn't look back.

"Hurry up," ordered L.

Minato huffed. "I can't fly."

"I am not flying," countered L without emotion. "And you have no excuse."

Minato grumbled but picked up the pace, somehow still slower than the Shinigami even with his lethargy. "Why are we rushing?"

L dropped the bombshell with his usual dismissive drawl. "We are going to Leaf."

Minato spluttered and stopped. "Why didn't you tell me this before?!" He stilled, realising the implications with a heavy heart. "Who's going to die?"

L looked annoyingly bored and didn't reply.

Minato seethed but knew he would not get an answer. L was irritatingly cagey about his job. Minato didn't even know all the aspects of his job in question but knew enough that if L was going somewhere not on schedule, rushed as he was, it meant that a lot of people would be dying a single place. An example was the Purges in Mist.

Travelling wasn't all that bad, he mused. He'd sated his desire for knowledge ten times over and the amount of things he wanted to learn continuously piled up. Well sure, L wasn't the greatest social interaction, but Minato quickly figured out that he was far more knowledgeable than he seemed. No, he didn't fight like a ninja – he didn't even have any substantial chakra – but he was so intelligently otherworldly that Minato accepted the knowledge he imparted without complaint.

The endless travel was a good way to keep his mind off all he had lost too.

He grimaced. "I am going to see my son when we get there," he said firmly.

L glanced at him and shrugged. He did not care.

Minato fingered his tri-bladed kunai, glaring at the dirt.

Contrary to popular belief, when Minato was truly angry, he ran hot. When he was irritated, he was quieter, seemingly subdued while he internally plotted his victim's demise. But when he was truly mad, like he was at that very moment, fire burned hot in his veins and he raged at the unlucky who would fight him in the war. He had a reputation from somewhere after all.

L ignored him effortlessly, treading along the path barefoot and practically gliding through the wilderness of the Land of Fire. The Uchiha massacre was an unfortunate event, L internally debated. But while the age old justice-fanatic side of him snarled at the premeditated murder, the Shinigami side of him could only admire the mental fortitude of the little boy called Itachi.

He doubted that the little ninja would die a good death. He recalled the twitchy numbers above the little boy's head sullenly.

Ah, he needed sugar, L sulked.

Minato's cerulean blue eyes flicked to L's as if reading his mind. Minato looked rather murderous in L's genius opinion but the Shinigami couldn't bring himself to care. Minato swallowed, looking at the blade in his fingers.

"If the book can control anyone with a just name," started the Fourth Hokage pensively. He thought about it for a moment. And deflated. L blinked warily at him. "Argh, forget it."

…would you punish the ones who ostracized my son?

Dark thoughts. Not too uncommon in L's lengthy experience.

The Shinigami pursed his lips and shouldered on.

This was one of the times where Minato viewed his current state as a curse. At times, no, being a spirit tethered to the Shinigami wasn't all that bad. L wasn't a terrible person. He did his job, he always asked consent, and even though he killed with a damned notebook, he killed only when necessary.

And that was very rarely, since no one could see neither Shinigami nor spirit.

So being a spirit wasn't terrible. He didn't need to eat, drink, sleep or be limited by human skin. He missed it sometimes, being able to touch the physical world, and when it rained and the water fell through his body onto the wet dirt beneath him, he missed it the most. But for all its faults, he couldn't really blame anyone but himself for the predicament.

The physical world was so close, yet so far.

"What are they doing?" hissed Minato, aghast. He stood just behind L's bony shoulder, eyes narrow and tri-bladed kunai gripped tight in his hands.

L sniffed. "Jashinists," he explained, voice telling Minato just as repulsive he found them.

Minato swallowed as a screaming little girl struggled in her captors arms unsuccessfully. "Y…you're just going to let it happen?"

L's red on yellow eyes glared at the scene. "No," he said finally.

He pulled out the Death Note.

"L," greeted the other creature, standing in the ruined symbol of Jashin on the ground.

L glared. It was admittedly intimidating with his inhuman eyes. "Go away."

Minato watched in wary silence as the creature gave a sickeningly wide grin, showing rotted fangs and a long tongue. "I think you should 'go away', little Shinigami," said the other cheerfully. It blinked down at the corpses by its foot pointedly.

"You kill mine, I kill yours," said L dangerously. The creature twisted its black lips into something akin to a pout.

"How rude. I haven't killed any of yours since the twenty first!" cackled the creature. It grinned down at pair. "And I haven't killed this one." It pointed a long, single digit at Minato.

L scowled. "I'll kill you one day, Ryuk."

Ryuk scoffed at him. "That's not my name anymore!" it laughed.

"Nonetheless. I will kill all your followers, no matter the name they follow now," L countered without inflection.

Ryuk paused and scratched its head thoughtfully. "Technically they're Kira's followers."

L bared his teeth into a snarl. Unlike his human visage, they were as sharp as Ryuk's. "I don't care."

Ryuk cackled wildly. "Course you don't! They're just little pawns in this game of ours, eh?"

Years passed.

They never went back to Leaf. Minato wasn't sure if he was relieved or upset. Ryuk never showed up again and L did not massacre any other Jashinist groups. They traversed the entire continent. From Wind, to River, Fire, Iron, Waterfall, Earth, Stone, Rain, and Grass, before heading through the new 'Sound', Hot Water, Frost and Lightning. There was one particularly interesting trip to Water and then through Whirlpool as invisible stowaways.

Minato had never really realised how different every city and country as to each other. He'd fought on the front lines and he'd earned a name for himself, but he'd never went into the heart of a country and saw them as people. War changed a man, Minato realised. They became paranoid, anxious and scared, and he was surprised and glad to see the effect of peace.

Peace that he'd fought for.

L didn't really care all that much about humans. He saw them, yes, but he didn't see them in a positive or negative light; merely wandering through the crowds like a phantom, never seen and never heard. It made Minato miss the respect and the unconscious acknowledgement that any ninja at the front would give another.

At war, a ninja was a ninja, no matter the country they hailed from or the age, and Minato himself had cut down thousands of men and women for the sake of his village. He'd died for his village. He felt rather put out, if anything, about the fact that he'd lost everything – Naruto had lost everything – and neither would be recognised for it.

(In his belly, the Kyuubi awoke from its years long slumber, looked at the bars of its cage and quietly went back to sleep.)

Sure, his name was known all through the continent, and he was almost seen as a god for his prowess, but in all honesty, Minato slowly began to understand the apathy L held the human race in. Being unseen, unheard and unknown for years always gives someone time to think. His visit to Naruto, all those years ago made his love for his people spike into rage at their treatment of his son – his son – and coupled with the fact that a little boy had to murder all the members of his family in a single night made him really start to think.

The appearance of the orange-masked-man made him seethe and he so desperately wanted to plant his single weapon in the man's Sharingan eye. It took months, really, to understand that he was falling, ever so slowly from who he was. Power and skill was nothing in this world separate of humanity and eventually Minato recognised the indifference in L's eyes was the same as his own.

L had no Will of Fire, Minato decided. It was an almost astounding thought, to not have any desire to improve or fight for the purpose of peace, but when Minato looked at the little black notebook – the Death Note – he was struck by the injustice of such a tool. He had weathered years of war, cutting down men and women for his village and here was this…this Shinigami, just wandering through borders like they didn't exist without ambition.

Eventually, Minato hated the monotony of constant travel. There was no irritants, no funny stories, and no campfires away from the rain. It wasn't even 'travel'. It was just following a strange being that resembled a human being, down to his thin lips and pale skin.

(He sometimes noted the slow decline in L's skin hydration and the way it seemed to dry up like old paint. He wondered if they would crack. Perhaps then, L would dehumanise more so and Minato wouldn't have to feel torn between disgust and pity.)

At some point, he started hating L. L didn't at all care and nothing infuriated Minato more. The Shinigami was endlessly knowledgeable yet somehow an incredibly boring being. It confused him, infuriated him, astounded him and disgusted him to the point that neither spoke to one another for an entire month. And during that time, he studied L more than ever.

L always seemed tired. He wasn't sure if it was a genetic thing (did Shinigami have genetics?) or something very, very different, but it was there. There were always bags under his eyes, skin blue, fingers not unlike sharp talons and eyes a weary red. They were inhuman enough that Minato couldn't bring himself to stare the Shinigami in the eye for more than ten seconds. He couldn't read the darkness behind L's thoughts either. He was a blank, quiet being that managed to hide a trillion cold calculations and a wicked plot behind that old tiredness.

After that month, Minato let go of the anger. L didn't care. And Minato couldn't bring himself to either.

During that lengthy time-skip, L spread his wings, anchoring Minato to a distant, abandoned Uzumaki temple. He had vanished for a total of two days and when he returned, he was quieter than usual.

("You going to tell me what you did?" Minato asked.

It would have felt better if L reacted at all. Minato could do with even a childish response. It was the days when L was a brick wall of a conversationalist that Minato wanted to pull his hair out and call quits.

"No." L never bothered to sugar coat. Minato wasn't sure if that was irritating or relieving.)

Unknown to the blond, L's pocket was a little heavier, hiding a rather spiritual 'token' from the most recent Chuunin Exams of Leaf. Minato would never know the tragedy that'd befallen Leaf that particular day.

Nonetheless, years after that yet again, Minato hadn't been back to Leaf. However he'd been through Fire Country so many times that he could remember certain fauna in specific places as landmarks. L hadn't explained anything, merely returning to Fire without an explanation for his rush. Fear gripped his heart about returning to Leaf for L's pitiless job of observing mass death but they bypassed the village for a temple in the far east.

While he was a spirit, he could still see, smell and hear the physical world. It was a strange limitation but something that he didn't think too much of. It meant that he could hear the squelch of metal meeting flesh, smell the irony scent of blood and, as they drew closer, see the wickedly grinning, silver-haired man and the group of-

Minato choked. L ignored him and pulled out his Death Note. He turned it over to see the indecipherable text on the back while Minato glanced between L and the should-be-dead man.

"Who-"

"The last real Jashinist alive," said L monotonously. "Fighting against Leaf-nin. If they do not destroy him, I will eliminate him myself."

One of them took off the Jashinist's head in a perfect manoeuvre. Minato watched them in something akin to nostalgia. Yet the silver-haired head suddenly screamed insults, much to his shock. "He's alive?" he spluttered, stalking closer.

L shrugged, eyes narrow in thought. "I believe he completed a ritual to bind himself to 'Jashin'."

Minato ran a frustrated hand though his hair. "Who the hell is Jashin then?"

"You met it," intoned L.

Being a genius meant he connected dots pretty quickly. "I thought its name was 'Ryuk'."

L blinked at him. "It was."

Minato went quiet.

When he saw his son, Minato chewed on his lip. Pride flushed through him at the completed technique, picking away at the remorse.

Sarutobi Asuma warily stared at L and Minato as they stood to the side, waiting for the Jashinist's demise. "Erm, Hokage-sama?" murmured Asuma. Minato smiled winningly.

"You did well," he said. Asuma clenched his jaw at the compliment, giving the two S-Rank nin a glare.

"Not well enough," he replied reproachfully. He massaged around the bloody hole in his heart and Minato's smile went a little bitter.

"Well enough to help your students," he allowed. He inclined his head. "Before and after death."

Asuma hesitated, looking down at his transparent hands. "Yeah," he said gruffly. He was fading, ever so slowly. "Thanks…Yondaime."

Minato nodded to the shinobi one last time and the man's spirit vanished. Minato shot L a look. "Was that necessary?"

L smiled mysteriously at him and did not reply.

"You want what?" choked Minato, confusion flicking through his features.

The Shinigami tapped a finger on his chin. "Apprentice," he repeated.

Minato felt a chill down his spine. Apprentice to the Shinigami? "W…why?"

His red eyes narrowed. "Deal or no deal."

Minato clenched his jaw, glanced at the ruined village and steadied himself. He had prepared to die anyway. For his village, his people and his family.

"Deal."

When the Jashinist was fully incapacitated but not dead, L made a frustrated noise in the back of his throat. Minato frowned. "He's the closest he can get to 'dead'," he placated. "What's wrong now?"

"He's not dead," huffed L. Without another word, he pulled out the old Death Note, pulled out a pen from a pocket and penned a name.

"L!" cackled a damningly familiar voice, swooping down on the scene with inky black wings like L's.

Minato shot Ryuk an annoyed look at his sudden appearance but L didn't acknowledge the 'god'. Somehow Minato wasn't surprised that Ryuk would appear. With L's revelation that 'Ryuk' was apparently 'Jashin', wouldn't it be obvious that the god in question would appear? Not to mention the fact that L was 'the' Shinigami, or Death God, and Ryuk was some god of death and destruction.

"Hey!" whined Ryuk. "Don't ignore me!"

L said nothing, only examining the spot where the Jashinist's head was buried expectantly.

Forty seconds passed and Ryuk pouted. "That's not fair." It didn't look all too put out, despite its words.

"I win," declared L triumphantly.

Minato furrowed his brow.

Ryuk blinked owlishly in befuddlement before cackling loudly. "Hyuk, hyuk, hyuk! For all that genius, you're really stupid!"

L scowled. "He's dead. You have no followers. You're almost dead. I will burn your book to ash. Therefore I win." A static report.

Ryuk's grin was wide and wicked. "Ya, fine, you beat me. But I'm the one with your book."

L stilled. "That means nothing."

It snickered. It was a throaty, mocking sound. "What ya think I've been doing all these years? I coulda burned you out eons ago. But I didn't." It smirked. "And you didn't burn me."

"I wanted you to watch as you lost everything like I have," said L coldly, to Minato's dawning suspicion.

"And now I have," said Ryuk. "Does it look like I care?"

It pulled out a notebook, almost exactly the same as L's but with no lettering in a foreign language on the front or back. It was plain black and looked significantly less torn apart than L's own.

L eyed the notebook in something akin to weary caution. "What are you going to do then?"

Ryuk studied L curiously. "Eh," it sniffed. "It ain't like you got anything else to lose."

It flicked through the pages of the Death Note and then tucked it away. L watched on in confusion. "I'll kill you," he voiced.

Ryuk sniggered. "So what? Humans are so boring now. You and me, we're the last ones. No more Death Note, no more Kira, no dull Jashin. Just you and me. And if you kill me, it'll just be you." It gave Minato an once-over. "And your little humie."

L grit his teeth silently. "Once I burn you, I'll burn myself. And that'll be the end of all Shinigami."

Ryuk snorted. "Suicide, huh. Pfft, you still got that boner for justice. Even if ya do, I still got a coupla years left. Especially with Hidan's unfortunate demise and that group a coupla years back. You got way longer than me." Ryuk gave Minato a significant, gleeful look. "And your little pet is running outta time."

Minato tensed, subtly pulling his single remaining kunai into his fingers, but was ignored.

L's red eyes narrowed. "I will burn you," he proclaimed. "And then I pluck my Death Note off your ash to burn myself if you're too lazy to burn me back."

Ryuk shrugged. "Even so. You lose, L."

And with that, large black wings, larger than L's own, expanded behind it. In a single beat, the creature was above the treetops and gone in the wind.

Unlike Minato, L could interact with the land of the living. He could touch things, pick things up and thus freak humans out if he wanted. He just couldn't touch the living. That included trees, humans and the occasional summon or wild animal. He also couldn't be seen at all.

(Minato didn't know that L and Ryuk could only be seen by humans who performed the Shinigami summon. He also didn't know that if a human touched his Death Note, they would gain the ability to see Ryuk. If Ryuk were so inclined, L could be seen if a human touched 'his' Death Note. Oh the horror of 'trading' Death Notes.)

But this didn't stop L from picking up the lighter left behind by the late Asuma and lit Ryuk's Death Note on fire. There was something final in the way the pages slowly blackened and crinkled in L's fingers. The Shinigami feared no fire and the book burned, held between two slender fingers.

L crouched on the floor, chewing his other thumb sullenly and there was pure silence.

Minato watched on.

And began to piece to things together.

"What does this apprenticeship entail?" asked Minato, inspecting his transparent skin.

The Shinigami blinked, chewing on his thumb. "Not a lot," he replied evasively.

"Does that include becoming…the Shinigami?"

He looked thoughtful. "Not exactly," he rebutted. "Just another outlet of energy."

Minato frowned. "What does that mean?" What energy, he wanted to ask.

Instead of an answer, the Shinigami waved a hand dismissively. "You're a genius. You'll figure it out."

The fact that L had wings had never really been…well, weird, per se. They were rarely even there; just a passing thought or a distant extra skill that no one spoke about or acknowledged. L certainly didn't care for them. Minato could count the times L's wings were used on a single hand; in all the years they travelled. He got the idea that the Shinigami didn't like his own wings and was so used to walking and lazily grounded that the fact that he was not limited to the land just didn't register.

The wings themselves were akin to batwings, if not made of a thin, black substance and did not resemble membrane at all. They were large, large enough to carry his humanoid form and Minato was certain the L knew exactly how to use them. At times, when both L and Minato agreed that they needed a better angle of sight, his wings expanded, sucking up space like a vacuum and propelling him through the air. Only short flights; the three times he actually used them.

Since Minato himself couldn't fly, it lessened the reason for L to use the extra appendages and Minato silently made theories as to why L never considered his situation as a powerful, invisible entity as a 'weapon'. He could save hundreds of lives, thought Minato once. L could save innocent civilians if he used the Death Note more sparingly.

Yes, thought Minato tiredly. L could save lives. But in order to do so, he had to kill the perpetrators.

Minato understood L's apathy to the very human plights in everyday life. But Minato had succeeded the Third because he had the Will of Fire.

L didn't seem to care about the Will of Fire. Sure, he knew all about it on an intelligent, sterile kind of way, but he didn't have it. It was detached and entirely literal to the sense that L didn't actually know what it meant. Take, for example, the argument of 'Mary's Room'.

The girl, Mary, was a brilliant scientist, who, for whatever reason, was forced to study the colour spectrum from inside a black and white room. She learned all about 'blue', and 'red', and 'yellow', and all the scientific theory behind it in this square, colourless room. Once she had learned absolutely everything about these colours, yet had not seen them to experience the vividness of it herself, did she truly know the meaning of 'colour'?

(In a tick that Minato had – horrifyingly – picked up, he chewed on his thumb in thought.)

Ultimately, the question remained unsolved as Minato had never bothered to ask L about his opinion of the very Fire Country belief. L didn't seem to like fire overall. Minato personally thought that L would have led them through every country but Fire if not for the fact that his home country was conveniently in the very middle of the continent.

No, L did not like fire. He avoided campfires and bushfires and all sorts of fire.

Minato had no idea why L despised the warmth of fire.

Well…

He was starting to get an idea when L abruptly stopped in the middle of path, spread his large inhuman wings out in a single, smooth movement and choked.

Minato blinked once.

And the Shinigami's wings promptly burst into flame.

"What's that?" asked Minato with a frown.

L's unearthly red and yellow eyes strayed to Minato's for a moment. In his pale fingers, L held a book, old and worn, and as discrete as any diary one might find in a civilian shop. L unconsciously smoothed out the pages and gave the book – a notebook perhaps – a look that Minato could only describe as contemptuous.

Death Note, it read on the cover.

L didn't deign to reply, merely flicking through the many, many pages with graceful experience. He handled the book like Minato handled his kunai: like a weapon, something that one used when they had to, but didn't particularly like using it. When L stopped at a random page, his thumb came up to his lip and he chewed on it thoughtfully.

He snatched a pen from his pocket (a pen and a book? Were they his only possessions?) and scratched a name onto the page. He paused, studying his handiwork in something akin to satisfied finality and snapped the book closed. He glanced at Minato. He gave what was supposed to be a reassuring smile.

"Spoils of war," murmured L eventually.

You see, when a Shinigami's Death Note was burned to ash, they lost their life support. It was like eating a giant meal and then fasting until starving and death. Burning one's book meant that they lost their ability to kill mortals and steal their life force. It also, by design, burnt a Shinigami's wings to ash in the process, like a painful, ominous warning that 'your time is coming and you can't run and you can't hide'. When the first Kira of eons long passed killed thousands of people across the globe, he didn't fully appreciate how immortal he was making his patron, the Shinigami named Ryuk. With that little black book.

More often than not, a Shinigami forgot to write enough names into their Death Note and wither away like the good-for-nothing gambler they were. It's wasn't terribly unlikely that a population would get decimated simply by the sin of Sloth.

L was never the highlight of humanity. When he became a detective in that meagre human life all those years ago, he thought he brought justice. Kira thought he brought justice too.

It took L countless lives, a stalled investigation, his own life and the disgusting sight of Kira's fall to crazed insanity for him to realise that justice was complete bullshit. It was like peace, fleeting and completely in the hands of one's own perception. Maybe that was the age-old part of him speaking, L mused. He didn't really know anymore. Justice was a lingering thought in the back of his head.

L was a schemer. He planned, plotted, weighed, manipulated and ruthlessly cut down his opposition with sharp wit, sardonic humour and the sin of Greed, all in a day's work. He had the highest education a millionaire could afford and a cold mind, not unsuited for the role as a sterile scientist or a dark conniver who did not know his limits.

(Unknown to him, the comparison wasn't wrong, and every so often, Minato wondered if L could have ever turned out the way Orochimaru or Danzo had.)

He could solve a case in hours and he could – and did – save lives for a corrupt system in a corrupt world. He did all of it, and it was easy. He was smart, intelligent, decisive, clever and perceptive. A case only lasted hours with a simple plan to catch the culprit that was made in minutes.

A schemer. That was what L was.

He'd schemed for centuries, if not millennia. All the possibilities, all the variables – numbers in his head. Numbers. Red, black and white.

L silently let his Shinigami wings burn away with the wind. He closed his eyes.

Digits clicked and spun behind his eyelids.

He smiled.

"Ryuk burned your Death Note, didn't it?" concluded Minato with a pensive frown.

L shrugged. "I don't care for it." He didn't specify.

"And you're just going to wait until you die?" asked Minato sceptically.

L studied his ward. "I am 54.9% sure that you are concerned about something; possibly your own existence after my imminent demise."

Minato huffed nonchalantly. "I'm tethered to you. Of course I'm concerned."

L sighed. He didn't actually need to breathe, but the action had several connotations that he wanted Minato to think over. "I still have time," he revealed vaguely. "Your role in this is almost over. As such, it is highly likely that I will release you from your service within the next 519 days and 520 nights."

"Accurate," Minato muttered. "And then what?"

L shrugged delicately. He did not reply.

Ryuk laughed.

It laughed and laughed and laughed.

In a black hand, a Death Note carried countless names.

Before them, the world burned.

Fire; as far as the eye could see.

L silently swore that he would be the one to destroy the Shinigami for this…this extermination.

He closed his gleaming red on eerie yellow eyes. And he started counting down.

"I've read Uzumaki texts," said Minato randomly one day.

L trudged on silently.

The blond lengthened his strides and walked beside the shuffling Shinigami. "You've been summoned before by them, right?"

No reply.

Minato made a thoughtful noise. "You'd be known by them. And you are rather knowledgeable in sealing judging by your success all those years ago."

L ignored him. That was okay. He just needed to get it off his chest.

"They must have taught you some of their arts," he mused. "In exchange for something. Most likely your ability to kill absolutely anyone in forty seconds."

"Your point?"

Minato hummed. "How did they see you?"

L blinked. "Ryuk," he replied simply.

Of course, sighed Minato mentally. It was that thing.

Surprisingly, L led them straight into the heart of Fire. Minato was wary, recognising some foliage and trodden paths. L spoke little to nothing, and in his heart, Minato could feel dread settling. The Shinigami was in no apparent rush, but even Minato could feel something was wrong.

Nothing could prepare him for the devastation in his home.

"What are you doing?" snapped L sharply. He lunged at the large, skinny figure angrily.

Ryuk danced around him with a mocking grin. "Taking a page out of Light's book." The double meaning made L snarl with sharp fangs. With a 'whoosh', black wings peeled out of Ryuk's back and tossed the Shinigami into the sky in a single beat.

Dread prickled L's neck. He grimaced but willed out his own wings in pursuit. He unwillingly calculated the possibilities of Ryuk's next actions with his Death Note. Nothing spelled good intentions and he recalled all the nefarious abilities of the Death Note.

Ryuk was naturally faster, with gigantic wings and experience that spaned centuries, if not millennia. Flight was not something the previously-human L was used to and he lagged behind.

Ryuk had a pen in its hand and L's Death Note was open to a random page.

L had an indescribably terrible feeling. He was too far away to stop it.

Minato held in a scream of horror but it was a close thing.

In the sky, gods fought and on the ground, bodies lay like a thousand lifeless dolls. He flashbacked to the war, where hundreds of corpses littered the dirt – felled by his own hand. In war, detachment wasn't all the uncommon. One would split their emotions from their memories and they would keep going – going through the motions – in order to fill their quota.

It was a ruthless battlefield.

Battlefield. Leaf wasn't a battlefield. Leaf was his home. It wasn't supposed to be a battlefield. A more appalling thought followed that. Is this even a battlefield? Or is it a slaughter? There was something very cold about that question. Minato wondered the icy feeling in his veins was the same thing thousands of civilians too poor to afford ninja protection felt to return to a home made of ash.

L's pale blue hand clamped down on his shoulder and Minato swallowed the desire to punch the Shinigami in the face. "A big event," informed L without inflection.

Minato shoved L's hand off his shoulder roughly. "My village is destroyed and you're calling it a 'big event'?" he snarled.

L have never looked so inhuman ever before than in that moment. His eyes were the colour the blood and they were so deadly sharp that Minato felt a metaphorical blade in his gut. L stared Minato down for a silent second. In the background, an explosion of fire sounded. "A big event," repeated L finally. Minato's fists clenched.

"I hate you," growled the Fourth Hokage.

L ignored him and continued into the destroyed village.

Minato's roar of rage of went unheard.

Naturally, a tethered spirit couldn't hurt their summoner. If anything, it was something alike to a summoning contract, except permanent and between a Shinigami and a human spirit. It was like hitting an invisible metal wall, and it hurt like one too.

Naturally, spirits weren't restricted by limited energy, physical incapacitations or injuries. And because Minato had been taught in a ninja school, not to mention the war, he knew exactly how to fight dirty.

And once again, naturally, L was the kind of guy that doesn't actually give a shit about the world. Especially since he blamed himself about the destruction of the last one and was substantially incapable of experiencing proper emotions.

So the fight between the Shinigami and his ward was epic in no proportions, but still managed to be impressive in the least by the many creative ways Minato tried to dismember, fry and smash L into smithereens. L's only judgement was, "Pathetic."

L could feel a roiling in his gut when a thousand souls returned to the living.

He'd walked among living and the dead for the last thousands of years, but never before had he walked through a mix between them both. The spirits hung suspended in the air, re-entering cooling physical vessels and L subtly shied away from them. It was unsightly in the highest order, and L hated the way the chakra seemed to cling to his own spiritual-yet-not form.

Minato, L found, could truly hold a grudge.

L personally had nothing against such a character trait. He'd held a grudge against Ryuk for the eradication of his own people and Minato had every right to dislike L. Not that he cared. It was hard to get attached to something so fleeting as the living.

Someone jolted awake in the material realm with a cry, and L scowled at the blatant blasphemy. He wasn't exactly religious, but raising the dead was even more atrocious than a hundred nuclear missiles.

L, of all people, would know.

L was usually more eloquent than this. He really was. Honest.

But he couldn't really justify why, "What?" was the first thing he said when he died.

The creature was humanoid, with dead skin, hanging off its figure and eerie red eyes with yellow sclera. It seemed to be serpentine in a sense, but its bones were awkwardly settled in places that did not work, giving it an odd disposition that made L feel nauseous. It had a face, with tentacle-like, thin strands of blue flesh hanging from its head like hair and holes in the sides of its head like ears. Its mouth was stretched into a sheepish grin of a rotted assortment of molars, canines and weird, misshapen purple things that L was afraid to name.

L mentally took a moment to consider the implications of being able to read a…monster's expression.

"Ah," said the thing. It was a throaty, raspy sound that was so androgynous that L couldn't tell its gender. He calculated that there was a 28.98% chance that it had no gender. Another 21.67% suggested that it was both. It wore a single piece of clothing around what seemed to be its torso but was too old and grey that L couldn't attempt to date it. If anything, it resembled a loose kilt that wasn't supposed to be used in such a way. "Well." It scratched its…blue hair.

"What?" repeated L. He'd felt so flatfooted in his life. He knew so many things and predictions, suggestions, planning and LIGHT kept popping up in his head. But he had absolutely no idea what was going on.

Its thin black slit of a mouth made a pout. Or something akin to that. It slowly, hesitantly reached around its back with its creepy bony arms and pulled out a book.

Shock spiked enough to make L's eyes widen. It looked almost identical to the notebook he'd seen numerous times in Light's bedroom. It was a simple book, really. L wondered by a monstrous creature like this would have it. Some ideas came up but he really didn't want them to be the reason. Just deductions.

Its fat fingers, something like colourless potato chips, rubbed the black cover tenderly before its eyes turned into slits and its arm stretched out to hand it to L. "This is yours," said the creature. Its tone held the key elements of sorrow and regret but L couldn't be sure. L contemplated the chance that the item was a threat. It had a 36.03% chance after all.

"…Why?" queried L.

The creature slumped a little. "I lost a bet."

Minato was still unhappy of course. L couldn't blame him.

But Leaf was far behind them and a thousand people were alive so he didn't really understand why. They were alive, right? Maybe it was the detachment talking, but L didn't understand why Minato was so angry about it. He could analyse it in a completely cold and sterile way, sure, but L deduced that the emotion came from a more…emotional aspect of the mind.

L mentally face-palmed. Emotions was really a human thing.

"Why?"

There was a frustrated note in Minato's voice. L paused, noticing that Minato had stopped in the middle of the path. "There are 872-"

"Why the hell do you just go to places of mass murder?" demanded Minato impatiently.

L shut his mouth.

"You don't even do anything!" exclaimed Minato, fuming. "How the hell do you even know about them? Your Death Note got burned!"

L exhaled phantom air. Minato deserved an answer, he decided. "I've stopped dozens of attempts to trigger wars early by killing the perpetrator or perpetrators before they escalate," he said quietly. "I used to be a detective. You can't punish someone before they commit their crime. Mass death is easy to track as a Shinigami, even without the Death Note, and usually a large factor in causing war or dispute."

Minato stilled. He mentally combed through it. "Uchiha Itachi."

L shook his head. "It is the same as arresting drug movers. I can keep killing the executors, but it will change nothing unless I can root out the producers – in this anecdote, at least." Besides, even with Ryuk's Death Note in ashes, L didn't really have anything else to do and followed the killings simply to keep up with events.

Recreational drugs weren't that common in the Elemental Nations, but with the medical boom, it was slowly becoming a far likelier concept. While Minato had never really had heard of a 'drug mover' before, their purpose was quite obvious. L continued before Minato could shoot out a barb. "I also had to balance my own morals and the current ones." Something like regret flashed through L's eyes. Minato grimaced.

"The Fourth Mizukage," Minato bit out.

"He was controlled." L paused. "And the Death Note has no effect on Tailed Beasts, as they are not considered living. Vessels cannot die by the Death Note."

Minato grit his teeth, scrambling for so many examples; so many dead- "Minato," sighed L. "Despite the tools I bear…I beared, and my title, I am not God. If I killed everyone that fought for what they believed in, who would I be?" He inclined his head. "Death is not always the answer."

Kira was not a God.

Minato deflated.

"That's funny, coming from you," said Minato humourlessly. L shrugged and turned back to the road.

"I have a lot of experience with death, believe it or not."

"Shinigami-sama!" called the red-haired children in delight. "Look! Look! Look what I made!" It was a picture. In it, a large figure with a tanto in its mouth stood dauntingly.

"Ah, Shinigami-sama," said one of the Uzumaki. "Welcome back."

"Hello," said L amicably. He eyed their numbers.

"I see," he murmured to himself.

Their numbers were all the same. It spelt slaughter. Men, women children…all dead within a space of minutes to seconds. And it was drawing close. L said nothing and passed them by.

L was not a good person. He didn't do good things. He'd reasoned it to himself many years before. Others might gasp, horrified at his actions. But like he'd said a long, long time before, L was no saint. He didn't care.

And weeks later, the Shinigami walked the ruined streets of Whirlpool without so much as a tear.

Minato hadn't realised time passed so quickly. As a spirit, he couldn't see in the dark, but he could follow L's pale, almost-glowing skin. They travelled endlessly through Fire, before returning to Leaf. L didn't seem to be happy at their detour and neither was Minato.

(Well Minato was pretty sour towards L overall recently and that hadn't changed.)

Of all the places, they went to the Naka Shrine.

Minato hadn't been there since the Uchiha Massacre. A morbid thought, but true.

"Who's going to die this time?"

L shook his head. "If this 'calling' is right, it will be the opposite."

His hand tightened around the simple token in his pocket. The only thing on his person now since the pen and Note were gone. Minato blanched.

"You mean…raising the dead? Again?"

L sniffed. "Unfortunately. There are different types of 'raising the dead', Minato. Full restoration has far more requirements. This…temporary resurrection, while irritating, isn't as terrible."

"Who, then?"

L purposely did not look at Minato. "We shall see."

Orochimaru was a pale man, decided L. Comparatively, L was technically paler, but blue didn't really count. He had slit, golden eyes, very much alike to a snakes, purple markings and black hair. L personally didn't like the man.

Oh they were very alike, L could see that much.

However, while Orochimaru was quite the intelligent scientist with an ambitious goal, L was intelligent in a very different, uninspired way. Orochimaru wasn't sated by his own existence. L was sick of his. They were both contriving in a way that made others cringe away from them, and could be cold, uncaring and calculating. Orochimaru was often described as 'twisted' and had so many complicated aspects to his personality that it made L's head spin. They were both rather unethical and was as secretive as they came.

But then again, while they shared many qualities, L was very different to Orochimaru. Orochimaru was a snake in the grass. He was greedy, always wanting more than what he had, and he struck hard and fast. L was a shadow among shadows. He tore down his enemies, a pebble at a time. And he had a long, long time to do it.

Orochimaru looked like he expected more when they met.

L stood before the masked…snake-man in bland boredom. While he didn't have his customary black Shinigami wings anymore, he still had his Shinigami eyes and the skin of a long-dead corpse with cyanosis. To his side, Minato remained invisible.

"I thought the Shinigami would look differently," rasped the Snake Sannin.

"You have two minutes before I rip that mask off your head," replied L casually.

Orochimaru examined the Shinigami. "The four Hokage are sealed within you." It came out as more or less a question. He seemed very sceptical. Minato gaped.

"What about them?" It was said monotonously.

"I will reincarnate them."

L cocked his head. "For what purpose, snake?"

The Sannin gave a thin smile behind the mask. "Answers."

Unsaid was Orochimaru's arms that had been sealed with the three Hokage.

"That is not your reason."

The simple statement had a simple answer, Orochimaru mused. "Perhaps I wish to use this opportunity to explore a…different path."

L eyed the Sannin for a long moment before pulling the token out of his pocket.

It was a wooden plaque. It was shaped into the Leaf sigma. Minato stared. The carved lines in it glowed. Orochimaru stared at it in interest.

"Minato," said L quietly, looking at the man. "I release you from your service."

He didn't even have the time to look surprised. Instead he melted into a ball of dense light before flowing into the plaque. L inclined his head to the vaguely confused Orochimaru before tossing to him in an accurate throw. The mask crumbled from the Sannin's face and L faded away.

L had never believed in saying goodbye. There was nothing good about it.

When Minato opened his eyes and registered the fact that he could move, the first thing he did was examine his hands. There was something nostalgic about the action, seeing flesh and bone, but Minato didn't understand why.

In fact, he felt like he was missing something. Like there was a gap where something was supposed to be, and his mind was trying to fill in the spaces with excuses and reasons that simply made no sense. Physicality felt foreign, Minato realised, watching the way his feet moved the dirt beneath his feet. He just didn't know why.

He looked around, spying his summoners and the strange (uncomfortable) tether to Orochimaru of all people, seeing his predecessors and the familiar land of Leaf. The…thing he was looking for wasn't there. He frowned.

Who was he looking for?

Behind his eyelids, the red numbers ticked and clicked and twisted together in a mass of symbols. It looked as disgusting as it usually did and L wearily took in the slowed counter.

He lived without a reason, thought L harshly. He had no purpose, no ambition and no one to keep him going. It was undeniably lonely, even to him, an introvert, and L could feel the frustration bubbling in his gut.

Maybe Ryuk had a point, he allowed hesitantly. Was it truly victory?

He'd accomplished his objectives, yes. He'd 'avenged' all those names that Ryuk had written in the Death Note and he'd stopped the pesky mortals from believing in Ryuk more so than they already had. Was this not victory?

In his head, the numbers scrambled together a flurry, cracked, and pulled apart again.

In the material world, people screamed and monsters roared.

In the distance, L could hear laughter.

The Will of Fire.

It was such a strange thing, mused L. He'd been to Leaf before. He'd been there before Leaf had even been an idea. He'd been around for a long, long time. Nonetheless, he'd heard of the concept many times before. Minato, he knew, believed in the Will of Fire.

It was a very Fire Country philosophy. L personally didn't really dig into the intricacies of philosophy. Being an ageless Shinigami tended to change things; not to mention his former role as a shady detective. He'd seen some really messed up stuff. The Will of Fire didn't really apply anywhere else but a battlefield.

In the old world, eons ago, before The Great Burning (as he personally named it), the Will of Fire probably would have amounted to 'love and peace'. Human nature was a fickle thing though. L, ever the pessimist, decided that it would take a miracle and a half to implement it. Peace was a hard concept for humans. He could delve into the hundreds, if not thousands of massacres in human history, on and off record.

Humans were far too fickle for L's liking.

While it was admirable for humans to fight for what they believed in, L couldn't really care. He'd fought. He'd done atrocious things and he'd fought to the point that he'd died (rather pathetically too) and what had he done? Sure, L was prideful enough to say that he'd done a lot, but he hadn't stopped thousands of people from dying to Kira's hand.

The thought of Whammy made a distant pang go through his heart. Ah, even without the Death Note, Whammy would have withered away to age.

Apathy. A curse, it was, perhaps.

The cold blue in his veins and the red in his eyes embodied that.

A monster. A Shinigami was a monster. L had always been a monster.

He couldn't bring himself to care.

The Tree was a pretty thing.

Ryuk pulled its demonic face into different directions, trying to make a funny while L languidly sat on one of its branches thoughtfully. Neither of them appreciated the company. But the Tree was something…different.

It had appeared over Earth's skies long after the end of the world. The population of humans had taken its time but they were there. The Tree, aptly named the God Tree hummed with foreign power and L rested against the giant branch, flicking through Ryuk's Death Note once again.

"Hyuk, hyuk, hyuk," laughed Ryuk. "Hey. Hey L. Look. There's a woman."

L glanced down.

There was indeed a woman. She had pale skin, not unlike L's own and long white hair, as if she was bleached of colour. From the height, L could make out nothing else but a name. "Her name seems distinctly Japanese," he said monotonously.

Ryuk grinned. "Look at those numbers!" it remarked enthusiastically. "Ya think we got competition now?" Its teeth glinted, even under the thick shade of the tree.

"She seems to be aiming for the…fruit," said L analytically. "That is very strange."

Ryuk's wings expanded and it felt off its branch to get closer. L frowned, thinking through the variables and sighed. Dimension hoppers were such a drag.

L didn't have much experience with immortal aliens. It was strange thought, really. He himself was a casual observer to his own race. The thought hurt. He realised that he was distancing himself from humans. He didn't see himself as one of them anymore. It was a startling thought, really, but then again, with aliens being capable of interstellar travel, were Shinigami a big stretch?

Nonetheless, L sighed and pulled out his own wings, however reluctantly, and slid of his own branch, Death Note slipped into his pocket.

Despite his oath to destroy Ryuk, L wasn't that much of an idiot to think that he could just destroy the Shinigami so easily. They didn't like, nor care for each other, but they didn't really have anyone else to talk to. They didn't actively seek each other out of course, but a massive seed from outer space tended to bring Shinigami together.

The alien, the pale woman, didn't see the Shinigami when the two landed next to her and simply ate the precious, single fruit ravenously. L didn't like the way the earth seemed to shudder, nor the chill in the air.

It reminded him, no matter how distantly, of endless fire.

"Hello Shinigami-san," said Gamamaru. "You look like you could use some sake."

L's red and yellow eyes flicked through the oblivious toads in the sacred mountain, a few shaking their heads at the Great Toad Sage's apparent schizophrenia. "I have tried your sake before. Intoxication has a-"

"Gah!" sniffed the toad. "You need to loosen up a bit. Sake is good. Good for the brain. Good for the body."

L sat himself down on the floor in his default position. The great toad looked down on him with an old smile. "Good for neither," he countered in a drawl. "Despite your growing senility, I do have a question for you."

"No," huffed Gamamaru. "If you're going to ask me a question, I get to ask you one first. Why didn't you bring Minato over?"

L blinked. "I didn't want to. Nor did I see the point."

The toad made an unhappy sound. "You should be kinder," he admonished. "Minato is your friend. And ours."

"I used Minato," said L dismissively. "He knew it and I knew it. Don't take me for one of your brats, Gamamaru."

"I never said that," sighed the Sage in the face of their old, conflicting views. "Ask your silly question." L's eyes hardened.

"I've made my own theories, but I'd prefer to have confirmation. You had one of your toads speak to Minato before he summoned me. Why?"

Gamamaru hummed. "Ah, you truly are the smartest being I've ever met," he complimented. "What gave it away?" L chewed on his thumb.

"He was far too willing to throw away his life," L said simply. "Answer the question."

Gamamaru looked down on one of the oldest beings he'd ever had the pleasure to meet in something akin to fond exasperation. "We did each other a favour, no? Does it truly matter what was said?" L scowled.

"Yes it does."

Gamamaru laughed whole-heartedly. "Well now you know how everyone else feels about your many secrets, L."

L regarded the Great Toad Sage carefully. "It comes with the name."

He could feel it, the day Ryuk faded away.

There was an absence, in L's existence, as if a crutch he'd unknowingly used had fallen under him like a pack of cards in the wind. L paused, halfway to Leaf in the aftermath of war, and looked to the sky. There were no words.

He wondered if this was how Light Yagami felt when L himself had died. It was an empty feeling.

Like loss, yet victorious, yet not. It was indescribable.

He slid his hands into his empty pockets.

And walked through the rest of his empty existence.

The numbers flickered every now and then, L noted. They glowed behind his eyelids, and when he looked down, he would see the numbers and names of strangers. With the new era of peace coming, the numbers over their heads had increased ten-fold compared to the last generation. L appreciated the sentiment but couldn't bring himself to believe that it would last.

(He'd been a detective in a life before. Murder and war was always a constant.)

He hummed.

On the head of the Fourth Hokage, L sighed an unnecessary breath. "A thousand years from now, you'll understand," he recalled into the open air. "Cryptic, Gamamaru. How very cryptic."

The numbers flickered again.

"My name?" repeated the Shinigami, pausing in the middle of the road. Minato nodded. "Why would you want to know that?"

"Its common curtesy," said Minato charmingly. "You know my name."

He calculated the odds of Minato holding another agenda before shrugging. "You mortals have called me Shinigami for millennia. Does that not suffice?"

Minato looked thoughtful. "I'm not sure how much this would apply to you, but giving someone a title without permission tends to be dehumanising. You seem quite human to me."

He gave a drool look, deliberately eyeing his own blue skin. "There is a 12.9% chance that you are jesting," he informed. Minato gave him a look.

"Sure," he admitted. "But that doesn't deny the fact that you have a name."

"A name holds power."

L had never said anything so truthful.

"That it does," agreed Minato. "You hold power over me."

"Of course," said the Shinigami blandly. "I do own your soul."

Minato looked thoughtful. "Do you trust me?"

He sniffed. "No."

Minato smiled, undaunted. "Then I'll ask you for your name when you do."

"Report it to the Hokage," said someone.

"Yes sir," said another, rushing away.

Atop the Fourth Hokage's head, the dust clung to the engraved spikes in pale blue clumps.

It was a strange phenomenon but had only been realised on a particularly windy day. Nobody liked the feel of it. It felt…alive. Like it was sentient and purposely clinging to the mountain. Not to mention the…old feeling to it. There was something about that dust…

The wind hummed.

And in it, something laughed.

Light, I'll see you on the other side. Let us explore the world of nothingness together.
- L.

Because L lived and died without a purpose. Why would he have one now?

So, I'm aware that I can't write charismatic-leader-people very well. I'm getting there.

Again, things you may or may not have noticed:

1. Minato never said L's name. I just wrote his name in. I'll let you decide if L trusted Minato or not.

2. That Shinigami I described is of my invention. I couldn't think of anyone else so stupid to gamble their Death Note away.

3. I may not have explained it well, but L was around longer than Ryuk because it had L's Death Note and liked killing people.

4. L didn't actually have a 'job' per se. Minato just didn't know what else to call it.

5. I honestly think L would make a fantastic Shinigami and that I'm not doing him enough justice. L has all the smarts, ruthlessness and callous disregard for humans and their laws.

Thanks for reading this! 3

If you have any questions, send me a message or hit review.

Or hit review anyway. :D