Title: Ghosts
Pairing: No pairing :o
Warning: Real name warning? Ooh, and slight spoilers.
Summary: Whammy becomes concerned when six year-old L creates an imaginary friend.
Disclaimer: Death Note is certainly not mine. Neither is 'Ghosts' by Japan

When the room is quiet
And the daylight almost gone
There seems there's something I should know

A child looked up with large, dark eyes at Quillish Whammy when he approached as he waited at the cast iron gates of the orphanage's outer wall.

Behind him, at a respectable distance from the boy, stood an older man with caramel hair. He appeared to be in his early twenties at the most. His eyes were hidden by the shadows his long fringe cast down his nose and to his high cheek-bones, and yet Whammy could still tell he was observing both child and elderly male closely as they came into touching distance from the other. A faint smile painted over his lips. Something about it made Quillish think it was a slightly sour look. Presumably, this was the one to find the boy.

Following the other's steady gaze, the youngster turned and stared at where Whammy was looking but grew bored quickly and twisted his body back to face the English gentleman. He pulled on the older man's sleeve for attention.

"My name is L." He muttered in his childish, yet surprisingly monotone voice.

"I know." The old man smiled down at the child and took his mittened hand, and before he started to lead the child inside he turned back to the young man at the gates, only to find he was gone.

Well, I ought to leave
But the rain it never stops
And I've no particular place to go

Roger found himself highly worried about a certain six year-old with raven hair and a growing case of insomnia.

But, although that was a problem in on itself, that wasn't what was worrying the co-founder of Whammy's house at all.

"He's got an imaginary friend." Roger said to Quillish one day, not being able to contain it any longer.

"And?" Whammy answered lightly, inspecting a dainty flower from a plant that rested on the window sill in Roger's office. "It is highly usual for children to have imaginary friends, especially when they are as socially inept as L is."

"I know that, Quillish." Roger snapped. The poor man, Whammy noted, had always looked like a nervous wreck, even when he was completely composed. But now that he was actually worried he looked like he was about to fall apart at the seams. "It's just..." Roger continued. "He's called it Lucifer."

This made Whammy pause momentarily, but quick as lightning he recovered. "Perhaps it is not what you are undoubtedly thinking, Roger."

"Oh, please give me another explanation, then."

"Perhaps it is for it's meaning, rather than its religious connotations. 'The morning star'. Or perhaps it is because it is a long name that begins with L. Maybe he's trying to make up for what he has not got himself."

"But, what if –"

"'What if' nothing, Roger." Whammy cut across. "Do not think down that path. L scoffed at the bible when he read it, do you not recall? He is not a god-fearing person. He doesn't believe that there could possibly be anything such as an omnipotent being, and especially not an opposite and enemy of said omnipotent bein–"

"You should still talk to him, Quillish." Roger glared.

"I intend to." The older man replied smoothly. "But it will not be about any satanic rituals, beliefs or fiends that he may have decided to become a part of or a friend to."

The friends and co-workers glared at each other for a long moment, before Whammy walked out the room.

Just when I think I'm winning
That I've broken every door
The ghosts of my life blow wilder than before

"L?" Quillish sat in front of the six year-old genius, who only bothered to acknowledge his presence after Whammy was completely settled in his seat.

"Hello, Mr. Whammy." He said, glancing up briefly with his big eyes, before returning his attention to both his ice-cream and his cryptic crossword.

"How... how are you, L?" Quillish was worried, but was more hopeful than concerned. Perhaps this imaginary friend was helping the child with the crushing boredom only geniuses seemed to have to cope with.

"I'm fine, thank you."

The older man smiled at the young boy, but it fell from his face as he realised he had to bring the subject up soon before L got suspicious and overly defensive.

"L," he leaned forward in his chair slightly, and waited until L looked up to meet his eye. "What I'm here about is to discuss with you about an imaginary friend."

L didn't seem to follow for a long minute. "Oh, yes," Realisation suddenly dawned on him. "He would seem imaginary to you."

Quillish was silent, hoping that L would talk about his friend on his own accord rather than with prompts from him.

And L saw the look, so decided that information had probably been already passed through to Whammy through Roger. No sense in hiding it now.

"His name is Lucifer."

"Ah." Whammy replied, relieved L had said it himself. "As in 'the morning star'?"

L went to shake his head, but stopped. 'The morning star' wasn't quite right, but he couldn't think of a more appropriate meaning to the name from the top of his head, and 'the morning star' was close. And, on top of that, he didn't want Mr. Whammy to think him suddenly Satanic, so...

"Yes." He said eventually. "'The morning star'."

L glanced up when he felt another's presence in the room, and was greeted by the sight of his, so called, 'imaginary friend' walking smoothly and delicately through the open door and into the room.

"It's because he reminds me..." L continued, staring up at the 23 year-old who'd stopped at the doorframe to observe the two. "...Of the morning light."

And Quillish followed the look to glance up at the entrance to the room. He jumped and nearly had a heart-attack when he saw a young man standing at a respectable distance from them, smiling only lightly, the expression faintly acidic, and staring up at the pair through the shadows cast over his face by the fringe of his caramel-coloured hair.

Whammy blinked. And the figure was gone.

Just when I thought I could not be stopped
When my chance came to be king
The ghosts of my life blew wilder than the wind

"Yagami Raito." L read, trailing off and staring at a picture of a beautiful 17-year-old with light-brown hair, and a fringe long enough to almost create shadows over his sharp-golden eyes. "As in... Light?"

L studied the picture hard, scrunching his eyebrows together in confusion and wondering why this boy's face was so familiar. Everything about him clanged on bells deep in L's memory; everything from the way his hair framed his narrow face, to his light and slightly embittered smile that never quite reached his eyes.

"Do I know you?" He asked the photograph on his computer screen, hardly expecting it to answer. "...Do I want to know you?"

No. A ghost's breath lurked by his ear, and L turned sharply... only to find nothing there.

He went back to focusing on the picture, and tried to shake off the feeling someone was with him in his blackened, locked room. It wasn't possible for there to be anyone here, he knew…and yet, the feeling lingered.

He scrolled down to the general information about Yagami Raito, sucking in everything from his grades, his girlfriend's names, to his extraordinary IQ. Suspicion rose in his chest, and some gut feeling, some instinct, told him he was on the right path.

"Light Yagami..." he said in quiet English. "Are you Kira?"

Lurking in the shadows was the unseen apparition of a forgotten 23 year-old – perhaps a creation of his very own, now dead, imagination. His brown hair seemed dull in the lack of lighting, his clothes blackened by shade and shadow. Through the darkness caused by his fringe he watched sadly as L Lawliet led himself to his own demise.

L was enraptured by Yagami Raito - fascinated and suspicious since he first saw the younger boy's picture.

A silent tear rolled down the phantasm's pale cheek. There was nothing he could ever do to stop L following that stupid child to his own death. L was going to be alone now... and the spectre was helpless to stop it.

Perhaps now his purpose was done, and the meaning to his subsistence completed... so the phantom said nothing and could only watch as he was twisted out of existence.

Well, I'm feeling nervous
Now I find myself alone
The simple life's no logner there

L looked round sharply again.

It was probably his imagination, but thought he saw he saw something glimmer in the corner of the room.

Well, maybe not his imagination, he scoffed to himself. More like his paranoia.

He looked closely at the offending space in the room, but whatever spark may have been there seem to have died; been crushed out of this world completely.

Perhaps it was only him, but he also thought he heard someone say his name.

He turned back to his work, he was suddenly defensive, uneasy and on-edge, as if a personal protection... a body-guard or something... had just one-upped and left him.

He felt vulnerable.

He felt defenceless.

... And, for some reason, looking at Yagami Raito's face helped ease his tension.

Maybe it was how pretty the boy was, or maybe it was that mysterious sense of familiarity that surrounded him that served to sooth L's suddenly haywire and hypersensitive nerves.

Even the eerie presence had gone...

But something made him feel that the presence hadn't fled completely.

The familiarity of Yagami Light became all-the-more stronger.

Looking at him, and his beautiful trust-worthy face, L knew he was going to be on his own during this investigation, unassisted and solo.

He smiled at a sudden epiphany, hair shadowing his eyes as he stared straight through his bangs to meet the honey-coloured eyes of a 17 year-old genius.

By himself, he may be...

...but that, he realised, glancing back to the empty corner, did not mean he was alone.

Once, I was so sure
Now the doubt inside my mind
Comes and goes, but leads nowhere

The End.

Author's Note: ...that didn't come out too bad, did it? :D