Balm, n. Anything which heals or soothes.

"This is so stupid." Raito moaned, shoving all his weight against the lawnmower. His shoulders burned with the effort and he gave up, switching the machine off and sitting down on the freshly mown grass. Closing his eyes he sighed and rested his had back against the handle, but snapped upwards almost immediately when the snap of the front door roused his attention.

"Ah," Watari smiled pleasantly as he fitted a small hat onto his head, slinging a coat over his shoulders. "I need to go up the street to get some groceries, but I should return soon."

"Oh! Right." Raito quickly willed his body to stand and quelling the urge to groan restarted the lawnmower. Disappearing into the garage Watari quickly reappeared driving a small car and waved at Raito before pulling out of the driveway and disappearing down the street.

Against his will Raito felt his eyes drag to the upper floor, but all curtains were tightly drawn closed, and there were no signs of movement whatsoever. It was so strange. He could swear he'd seen someone other than Watari on more than one occasion, but he had never seen him outside, and Watari never mentioned living with anyone.

Raito raised an eyebrow thoughtfully as he rounded a corner in the garden. Perhaps the person was in the Witness Protection Unit? That might explain all the secrecy and living with a man who looked more than eight times his own age.

Suddenly the lawnmower refused to push and gave a large grating splutter. Raito tugged it violently but the machine emitted a high squeaking sound and then died altogether.

"You've got to be kidding me." He sighed, dropping his head back and wiping sweat away from beneath brown-red hair.

Crash. Smash. Splintering scrape.

Raito looked wildly over his shoulder back to the creepy house from where the sounds came, shoulders tensing. Watari was out shopping. That meant the noises must be caused by the strange boy he had seen. But why? He could hear screams now, hoarse shouts. Flinching, Raito was caught between the idea of running next door to call the Police or storming the house.

Maybe he was being burgled? Maybe there'd been an accident?

There was a thundering rumble and crash, like something heavy had fallen from a great height, and Raito threw caution to the winds as he abandoned the lawnmower and ran into the house, pushing the heavy front door open and entering the musty entrance hall.

An old wardrobe lay broken at the foot of a staircase, and Raito sidestepped around it, slowly making his way up the staircase.

The crashes continued, and Raito ducked on reflex as a vase smashed against a wall further upwards.

This was dangerous. Raito considered heading back home to get some help when he heard his voice.

"Shut up. Shut up shut up shut up. Stop it. Stop it!"

Soft voice, quiet enough to be a whisper but loud enough for Raito to hear.

"Shut up. I hate your eyes. Your eyes. Stupid eyes, useless eyes, stop it…"

Another smash.

"H-Hello?" Raito called up the staircase. A feeling of unease settled over him when the crashes suddenly halted.

Climbing the last few steps Raito cleared his throat and looked over the banister.

His immediate thought was – wild. Wild black hair over frantic black shining eyes, skin and pants pearl white and stained with random splatters of blood from the wild boy's weeping palms.

There were a few frozen moments as Raito took in the thousands of miniscule broken shards that carpeted the floor around the boy, the way his body was faced towards the wall and the cracks that ran across it, as if he was aiming for a particular spot. The way his eyes never blinked, even though they were locked against Raito's for a good few minutes.

Raito tried to say something. Nothing came out.

"Yagami Raito."

The teenager blinked, recognition slowly flickering in a corner of his mind.

"How did you know my name?" he asked suspiciously. The boy continued as if he hadn't spoken.

"Yagami Raito. Seventeen years old. Previous home location Japan." The boy suddenly took a step towards him, feet carefully manoeuvred between shards of glass. Raito felt his legs rooted to the lip of the staircase. "Hair, brunette. Eyes…"

The boy paused and Raito sucked in a breath as he realised they were mere centimetres away from each other.

The boy seemed to halt and slowly turned to look over his shoulder.

"… I hate your eyes." He whispered to the cracked wall.

Raito winced. This boy was nuts. He was talking to a wall! Raito finally found the feeling in his legs and rushed to head back down the stairs when he felt a talon grip on his arm. For a moment he felt a flash of fear. It was like something from a horror movie, he had snuck into a creepy house and now he was going to be killed by a psychotic boy with no shirt on.

The grip on his arm was bruising, and it didn't look like the stranger was going to let up any time soon, judging by the nonchalant determination in his face. Raito bit his lip. He was smart, he knew that.

So be smart, stupid. His inner voice told him.

"You're hurting me." He spoke up, noticing how the boy stilled at his voice, breath coming out in frightened harsh gasps.

"You're hurting me. Let go of my arm."

To his relief, the boy complied after a few moments of consideration. Smiling, Raito continued nervously with the hopes of calming the boy down.

"What's your name?"

Black eyes rose, shining with something closer to keenness than insanity. Raito decided that it must be true; there is a fine line between genius and insanity.

"L."

--

When Raito was younger his father had taken him to the hospital to visit his sick grandmother. On the way to her ward Raito had seen a young blonde girl sitting on the edge of her bed in a white gown, mouth open in awe as she traced nimble fingers through the air before her. A nearby nurse had made an exasperated sound and pushed past Raito, forcing the girl to lie back on her bed.

Later when Raito asked his father why the girl had acted so odd, he simply explained that 'some people see things we don't.'

--

"Nice to meet you." Raito replied numbly. L continued to stare at him with hollow eyes for a moment, before there was a loud gasp downstairs and the sound of the front door slamming.

Before he knew what was happening, Watari was pulling Raito back and gently directing L towards a nearby doorway that Raito realised was the boy's room. One L was calmly manoeuvred inside the room and the door was safely locked behind him Watari turned to Raito with a politely surprised expression on his face.

"It's quite interesting…" the old man murmured. "But Master L has never responded to a stranger before."

Raito didn't know how to reply, but Watari seemed to decide that for him as he placed a hand against the small of his back and steered him down the stairs towards the front door.

"Same time tomorrow then?" Watari proffered. Raito blinked, not quite understanding.

"It would be nice if you could keep L some company during the day. Or," the old man gestured towards the dilapidated machine. "Would you prefer to continue garden duties?"

Raito nodded. "Tomorrow." He agreed, and made his way back to his house on shaky feet.

--

He didn't get much sleep that night, since he was mostly occupied by staring at the ghost boy who was holding a white hand to his bedroom window, gazing across the space between their houses with curious black eyes.