A Year of Jubilee [The Death Note Fanfic]

Chapter 39

L looked silently at Jubilee for a long moment, unblinking even though the rain streamed down his face and clung against his eyelashes. Then, suddenly, he smiled. The expression was so unexpected, and so new to Jubilee, that it nearly knocked her off her feet. Around him the colors softened and became warm, tendrils of them reaching out to touch her cheek like a gentle friend.

"Yes," he said. "Of course you do."

She stared at him, mesmerized. In that instant, a vision took shape within her mind's eye. She saw a little boy, with wild black hair and hunched shoulders, holding tightly to a white-haired man's hand as they stood together before a set of tall black gates. The air around the two was foggy and cold, and the sound of chiming church bells echoed in the distance. The loud noise startled the boy for an instant, making his shoulders hunch even more, before he looked up at the bespectacled man holding his hand. The old man gave him a reassuring smile, and the boy's shoulders slowly relaxed once more. Then, before them, the gates opened.

The vision faded, and L's face came back into focus before Jubilee's eyes. He was still smiling at her, but now a smirk tugged at his lips.

"It seems you aren't the only one who hears things," he said.

Jubilee let out a breathless laugh, even though she felt tears threaten to spill from her eyes for reasons she couldn't quite fathom. Perhaps it was because, somehow, the vision reminded her of the moments before her fatal car crash—the seconds before impact when all she could think of was her father. Perhaps, somewhere deep down, she knew that these were the sorts of memories that filled a man's mind as he readied himself for the end—memories that were of the most pivotal points in his life, when everything that got him to where he was now had first begun.

But Jubilee didn't let herself fully process these thoughts. She didn't vocalize to him her worry over him, or her fear of his fate, because she saw in that moment that he needed this—this final moment of quiet reflection before whatever happened next came crashing in. And she couldn't bring herself to interrupt it. But, more than that, she couldn't bring herself to accept that that was what was really happening.

So, instead of asking him what they should do now, or telling him not to give up hope and to keep trying, she said nothing. All she could do was stand by him, and give him her presence.

"Is it your late father who you talk to?" he asked suddenly.

She blinked. "What?"

"I've heard you talking to him, sometimes," he said, eyeing her with an unreadable look. The rain ran down his forehead and into his eyes but he didn't blink. "Not your guardian angel; I can tell when you are talking to him. You become more matter-of-fact and, oftentimes, angry. But I've heard you address someone else. You call him 'dad.'"

"Ah." Jubilee cleared her throat uncomfortably. "No...it's not my late father." She didn't expound.

"I see," said L after a short pause. "So, then..." He leaned back a bit and glanced skywards. "Big 'Dad.'"

She hesitated awkwardly, then couldn't help another little laugh. "Yes," she agreed. "Big Dad."

L hmmed to himself and turned to gaze out at the horizon once more. A long stretch of silence unfolded between them. She watched him as he looked into the distance and, for once, she felt completely at ease beside the detective. The faint, ethereal chime of bells continued to sound through the air, and for the time being, Jubilee let herself completely forget about Kira, about the case, and about shinigami. She simply stood beside L, watching the rain and listening to the sound of bells with him.

"You know," L spoke up again at long last. "There is a part of that book that is particularly striking to me."

Jubilee was about to ask what book he was talking about, when the memory of Watari handing his bible to L, so many months ago, wisped through her mind.