When Raito was living in his school days of boredom, of grey, misty clouds of tedium and the babble of talk among students, he studied Chinese characters in his spare time.
x x x x
For some reason, sunny days were always the ones in which Raito's most treasured memories shone through. Raito thinks in ghostly, whispy lines that fragment into thousands of pieces. Memories, events, feelings jumble into shining, glittering pieces of glass that may or may not be part of the correct shoe, but are nonetheless there. Mostly, the images he can summon in his mind are transient, fading images that could only be described as "obsidian eyes" and "eternal slunch" and mostly, "slovenly genius".
The only explaination Raito can honestly come up with is that this whispy ghost that appears in his dreams and in lonely nights, with only copious amounts of Misa, is that he doesn't dare think of what could (yet never, never would) have happened.
x x x x
Pouring over the stacks of dusty, kanji dictionary, Raito discovered his favorite character. It was the most beautiful thing that he had ever seen. There is a tangle of thorns behind each story, the yellow murkiness beneath the bamboo that is "must do". Five firm strokes that end in neat, yet shredded tips of slithery sable, each more decisive and hardening with resolve that must be done.
In the word for "must do", there is the character for "heart". One long, dreamy stroke for the right atrium, and then three tips for the arteries that pump the precious ruby substance. And finally, a slash across the heart, boldly cutting across and spilling the blood of imaginary red.
x x x x
Raito has always kept this in mind. The illusory images of the inert L infest him invariably, slithering as a little ghost in his dreams. Sometimes, Raito chases after these dreams, licking his dry lips and attempting to call soundlessly,
"We couldn't have been together anyway!"
"Do you think that I really didn't love you?"
"Do you know how much I would...!"
..die for you? Detective, of course not.
But it didn't come to that in the end. In the end, his beloved word, the cuts of each stroke spelled out his fate. With the last stroke of L's true name written in the Death Note, Raito had slashed his heart- the completion of "must do".
o00o
A/N I'm not sure what I have to say for this one. I wanted to try something new, and I wanted to express something. I'm aware that yes, the conotations are not the same of this character, but as valarauka pointed out, I wanted to imply this sense of urgency and failure if this thing is not accomplished.
If you would actually like to see the character, it's http ://web.mit. edu/jpnet/ji/gifs /200x200/4112. gif