As the surroundings span round them, Light noticed they were now black and not a glowing white.
"It is because," began Past, without him even asking, his eyes and mouth tightly closed during the confusing spin, "we are in L's history stream. And L's history is dark and heavy."
They arrived back at the apartment. Things looked even more desolate. The colour scheme was nothing but washed out khaki green and urine yellow. The low lighting emphasised is dankness. The floor, whilst it had been bare before, was now unhygienically dirty and dusty. The whole place was in a state of disgusting decay.
A little boy, L, who must have been by now around seven years old, was sitting desolately outside a bedroom. His body was alarmingly thin, his lips were white and his eye sockets were hollow; he was clearly malnourished. The signs of insomnia were beginning to show on the bottom of his lids also. His clothes were practically rags, his long white shirt hung off his shoulders and covered his dirty grey shorts. Light noticed with some interest that L was wearing thick, nobbly socks.
Gasps and cries could be heard inside the bedroom. Light felt sickened. They were the sounds of sex.
Why was L just sitting there in this decidedly adult environment?
The boy took a very small toy fire truck out of his pocket and pushed it along the ground. Unlike a normal child the game held no enthusiasm. The door opened and a fat man buckling up his belt stepped out. He patted L like a dog before leaving. L made no move to tidy his ruffled hair. It seemed that the child had no sense left of self-esteem or pride.
Light wasn't certain whether to feel smug to know that once L had given up in something, or to feel pity; he was, after all, a child in this instance.
Just as he was wondering what he would have been like in such a situation, L's mother stepped out of her room shakily, lighting a thin cigarette in her mouth. Her eyes were reddened and her body even more spindly and delicate than before. A nightgown hung loosely at her shoulders; the epitome of degraded decadence.
A thin nervous man stood in the doorway of their pitiful department, he and the fat fellow offering each other swift nods as they passed. He entered on her beckoning and stared at L for just a moment before entering the room with her.
Light shifted, he was uncomfortable with the gaze the man had fixed on L. It had been more than vague interest, more like, an intrigue, a hidden desire to know…
After a few moments of muffled speaking, the bedroom door re-opened and L's mother stepped out. He looked up at her. Settling down at his level she held him close.
"Mama loves you," she drawled, she must have been drunk, or worse. "Perdonare mama." She kissed him all over his head and face. "Per favore mi ami ancora dop questo!" She sighed and held him closer, speaking in her strange mix of languages. L did not react, he hung limp in her arms like a gothic rag doll. "It is that we are so hungry, my darling, mon ange!"
Light felt sickened suddenly.
The nervous looking man stood in the doorway, watching the affectionate display. He was breathing heavily through the mouth as though exceedingly anxious or, sicekeningly, excited. Lifting L, she handed him over to the man, who took the boy in his arms reverently. L visibly stiffened but did not fight.
Light turned to Past, "enough! I'm not watching this." She looked steadily at him. "I know what's going to happen," he complained. "I do not need to see this. You spared Matsuda being hit by some girls, I don't want to see a child…" The word 'violated' stuck in his throat.
"Even though he is your enemy?" She questioned.
"Of course!" He barked back, disgusted.
"But what do you care that injustice happens to those who stand in the way of your Godship?"
"Of course I care!" He was angry but mostly disturbed. Whatever spell was being used to send him to the past was still showing him what Past meant for him to see. So despite being in the hallway, Light knew that right at that moment that L's thin frame was still in the mans arms and was being carried over to the messily made up bed, still sullied by the last unholy encounter between the mother and her client. Yelling at Past helped him not see the pervert stepping over needles and broken bottles, revealing how low the family, in particular, mother, had fallen.
"I am God!" He screamed, recognising that he was becoming hysterical.
L was being lowered onto the bed, his eyes staring at the ceiling, his body tensed and straight like a toy soldier.
"I am justice!!" Light shut his eyes, but could still see.
"When I get back to my time, I'll kill this man!"
Oh God, someone please help him...
"I'll find out who he is and kill him for this abuse!"
"But L is against you." Replid Past unpreturbed.
"God is above that, I will still meet out justice for him."
"Like you did for Ray Penbar and Naomi Misora?"
L's torture in the bedroom faded. Past had given him a reprieve from that only to send his world spinning with this new assualt on his concious.
"How you repaid their goodness," the spirit continued, growing a little older before his very eyes. She now looked like an adolescent. Her lips were full and red (and still not moving with her words.) Her dress was a darkening pink. "How you repaid their adherence to the rules, to the laws of society." She looked at the door of the bedroom.
L's mother was sitting outside it, where L had previously been. She was weeping and drinking some vile smelling thing out of a glass bottle. Though spared any visuals, they could hear the man inside the room; L was silent.
Light groaned and crouched on the floor, very close to being physically ill as Past continued without mercy. "Surely you would see it as L is being punished for future crimes against God. Punished by a criminal no less. I thought you'd enjoy that…the irony of it…"
Light did not reply, he remained bowed on the floor. He could argue with her, but he felt too unwell, too sick...
She looked away.
"Very well." She conceded. "I do not wish to remain here either. We will go just a little further. Just a little…"
Light barely held in the nausea as the world began to spin once more.