When Light faces the mirror, he sometimes glimpses the faintest red in his eyes, the sharp edge of his smirking teeth. Its strength is creeping with each victim he claims. It beat like a heart with potential, with the future. He quite enjoys it. He always liked looking at himself in the mirror.

For L, the past beat on his mirror.

If he is settling anywhere long term, he normally has them removed. There are mirrorless hotel suites in Vienna, in London, in LA, in several private planes in the sky.

With being handcuffed to Light, however, L has had the mirrors in the HQ replaced, and lets them remain. He can't afford to expose his weaknesses to Light. Now Light is free, he can of course take them down again, but he is so tired, so worn out, it is the last thing on his mind.

"L," Beyond calls tauntingly, tapping his fingers on the glass. He always seems closer when L is lonely, or afraid, always bullying him to be let out. L's real name is always just on the tip of his tongue. He grins and snaps his teeth at him playfully. "Lawli. Lawliet. Come on. Look at me."

L steadily washes his hands, and keeps his eyes averted. He sees Beyond press up against the glass out of the corner of his eye. "When you feel like this, don't you ever wish I was still with you?" His breath fogs the glass as he taunts. Not that L is looking. B tongues the glass to clear it, knowing he is looking. "After all, I am your back up." He walks his fingers up the glass.

L never looks at him properly. For years, when he hasn't been able to dismantle mirrors, he has been showering in the dark, brushing his teeth with his eyes closed. He ducks away from store windows and shiny surfaces. It is part of what makes him stoop.

"Think about it," Beyond pursues, tracing Ls into Bs on the glass with his fingers, L's fingers. "You wouldn't have beaten me in LA if it weren't for Misora. If you'd have confronted me yourself, you would have lost. Because you can't bury your feelings, despite all your practice. You know that."

He knows this.

Still, L resolutely ignores him. He begins to calmly dry his hands. He refuses to acknowledge ghosts, reflections, or whatever form his demons choose to take.

While L ignores his reflection, Light's, Kira, smirks in the mirror across the hall as Light begs him to leave him alone and give back some control.

"It's not like this will all just go away," Kira tells him, not for the first time. "You have to see this through. And anyway, you don't want this to go away, or to end. You want to be with L, right?" He smirks. Kira's forehead, Light's forehead, is pressed against the glass. "And if you want to be with L…"

"…You have to let me out," Beyond breathes into L's mirror, his hand on the glass. L lets go of his towel. He looks at the hand. Then he looks at Beyond directly for the first time in years. His face isn't burned, and his eyes aren't red. He looks exactly like L. His reflection smiles at him. Their palms meet on the mirror, finger to finger.

Like Light, he makes his choice.

Kira is becoming more determined than ever to accelerate their plans.

"You don't need to kill L, not yet," Light pleads in the mirror. His voice catches, and he's not convincing even to his own ears. "Everything's under control. Just give me a little more time."

I'll save L, he thinks, even as he realises the implications of this. I'll turn my whole plan around and abandon the new world just to save him.

In his head, he sees L have the heart attack he writes for him and go limp and heavy in his arms, and can't bear it. I don't need to bear it, he thinks.

But Kira is sneering at him. "You're too late."

"You'll thank me for this," Kira tells him, afterwards.

Light stares back. He can't believe what he sees is himself. "You didn't even let me say goodbye."

Kira rolls his beautiful eyes. "You were upset. You might have said something stupid."

Light says nothing. He remembers L's head dropping, heavy in his arms, as he, as Kira, smirked. I win. Just the way he'd planned, just the way he'd seen it in his head.

"I wasn't even there." He is completely numb. "You could have let me-"

"I gave you months alone with L," Kira cuts him off sharply. "Hand-cuffed to him. You didn't give him so much as a hug. You didn't even rub his sore back after a long day, even after that little footsie he gave you."

Light has to look away.

He thinks of all those times he was chained to L, when his reflection didn't bother him at all. In fact, he rather liked mirrors, as they afforded him the opportunity to watch L without being watched. The other man never seemed to look in the mirror. He always got in and out of the bathroom as quickly as he could.

Light would watch him and see himself pushing L back into one of the sinks, holding his face as he kissed him, and L's hand would go round his neck to pull him closer, the chain dangling forgotten between them. He saw it so vividly he could have painted it, saw it on his eyelids every night he couldn't sleep.

But then Light would imagine L's eyes widening, L pushing him away, even striking him, and he couldn't bear it. So he never touched L. He never even hinted at it.

"You'll thank me for this," Kira repeats, and Light looks at him and remembers the hope he used to feel when he looked in the mirror. He didn't want the new world, not without L.

When it's finally over, when he lies bleeding in the warehouse with the sunset coming in through the window, he prays Kira will finally leave him. He looks to the sky and prays it will finally just be him and L.