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Affairs of the Heart
Light facepalm
A/N: This is a Death Note fanfic. I don't own Death Note. Aizawa x Light for underrated pairings week.


It all started when Light noticed the bandages lining the side of Aizawa’s jaw. Sometimes there were scratches on his arm. Sometimes he’d come into work bruised and battered, a black eye badly concealed with his wife’s foundation. But what Light found most alarming was that the other officers treated this as normal.

Light had thought he knew what made each of the men of his inherited taskforce tick: Matsuda was the enthusiastic rookie and remained the enthusiastic rookie even after five years of police work, Mogi… was practically a robot, and Ide was there for Aizawa—though he too seemed to take a vow of silence concerning his partner’s bizarre injuries. Then Aizawa… Aizawa was the family man, or so Light had thought. Looking at the bruises, Light was beginning to wonder if he really knew that much about Aizawa at all.

Of course Aizawa, like the others, wanted what he naively thought to be justice done with regards to Kira (he was wrong of course but Light was, ironically, not in any position to educate them on this matter without incriminating himself) but would always put his family first. But then if his hunch was correct then perhaps, in time, he could steer him into becoming a proper minion… er, follower of Kira’s justice.

Light gave a calculated sigh and looked up from his Excel spreadsheet to casually regard the other officer. Mogi was off babysitting… shopping with Misa, Matsuda was pursuing a wild goose chase with what remained of the Yotsuba group, and Ide had the night off. So it really was an opportune time to confront him about it without causing the man undue embarrassment.

“It’s nothing,” Aizawa insisted. “It’s just… my wife… She doesn’t like the long hours I’m pulling.”

“Did you need more time off?” The killer asked, genuinely concerned. Yes, he was aware that one day he might have to kill them but given a choice he would rather not. Light thought his father’s men were okay guys—just misguided about justice. He wouldn’t kill them unless he absolutely had to. Until then he tried to ignore the Sword of Damocles that Kira held over their heads and attempted to emulate his father’s management style though he was, admittedly, a bit lacking in the natural empathy. He was aware that his own calculated acts of kindness must seem like a pale imitation compared to his father but he still he tried not to be a bad boss to them despite the fact they made no secret of the fact that they wanted him, or rather Kira, dead.

Ryuk once asked him how he kept all of his (often vastly different) identities straight, counting off the various “masks” he observed Light wear on his blackened talons: Perfect Student, Perfect Son, Perfect Brother, Model Employee, Tech Geek for the NPA, Misa’s Devoted Boyfriend, the Second L, Kira, and God of the New World. Because surely keeping it all straight must be driving him mad. In lieu of answering his undead companion Light shoved an apple in his mouth to shut him up. Ryuk didn’t complain and just seemed amused by his human’s reaction.

“I could give you more time off if you need it,” Light insisted.

It’s not like they were actually doing any investigating these days as Light kept them buried in mounds of busy work and ran the investigation in circles rather than trying to catch Kira—not that they needed to know that of course.

Aizawa winced slightly but Light caught it. “Thanks, but I don’t think that would help.”

Light was struck by the sudden realization that Aizawa always pulled absurd amounts of over-time—like he didn’t want to go home.

“Your wife hits you.”

“Well… yes.”

Once he got going Aizawa slowly began to open up about his total bitch of a wife under Light’s gentle line of questioning. Things got a bit fuzzy after that. Probably because that bottle of saké Matsuda left behind was consumed in the process.

Aizawa spoke and Light nodded in understanding; lending a sympathetic ear as Aizawa went into details about his marital woes. Normally he would be itching to get back to his Death Note by now but for some reason he didn’t feel so anxious about being away from his life’s work tonight. Well he had set up a queue of murders and Misa was covering for him. And there was no real threat to Kira’s reign at the moment. Sure there were those pretenders Mello and Near but they were far below L—flies easily swatted so not much of a concern, really.

Honestly he couldn’t help but feel an odd kinship with the poor whipped officer who lived in terror of his domineering wife….

“I don’t understand why you don’t go home though,” Aizawa slurred slightly as he took the bottle back from Light. The taskforce (with help from the late Mr. Aiber) had ages ago found a bizarre and obscure loophole in a particularly badly written portion of the police code of contact. Apparently as long as they didn’t pour glasses it didn’t count as drinking on the job. The week after Chief Yagami died the taskforce collectively exploited that loophole for all it was work.

“I mean you’ve got Misa-Misa.”

“Misa isn’t much better. Trust me on that.”

“Hey, do you think we can trade?”

“That’s not such a good idea,” Light insisted as he took back the bottle.

“What? My wife not good enough for you?”

Light arched an eyebrow when Aizawa took offense on behalf of his abusive bitch of a wife he couldn’t wait to get away from.

“Or is there something to that rumor about you and Ryuuzaki…”

“Don’t speak of Ryuuzaki around me!” Light roared with a rage that was truly frightening to behold. Aizawa flinched, eyes widened comically as he witnessed the explosion of anger from the nominally stoical young man, and instinctively leaned back in his seat to avoid the spittle. A moment later the brunet took a deep breath to compose himself and hung his head in a show of contrition.


It appeared whatever demon had temporarily possessed Light was gone now because he was instantly civil again, as if no blowup had ever occurred, leaving Aizawa questioning his perceptions. If he had listened to his gut instinct and not dismissed it out of hand due to their mutual drunkenness he might have figured out then that Light wasn’t exactly what you’d call mentally balanced.

“I just don’t think Misa would like that. What about you. Have you, you know, considered counseling? For your wife?”

“She won’t go. She’ll divorce me—probably claim that I hit her and get custody of our kids. No, it’s best to let it lie. It’s alright. It’s not like I’m not used to it. Besides it’s not like I don’t deserve it for not being there.”

That had to be one of the saddest things he’d ever heard. Not the saddest thing naturally—it’s not like he had any shortage of sad things in his reading material as he researched his potential victims… and their victims.

“You mean working so hard to catch a dangerous criminal?” Light asked, brown emo bangs falling into his face curtaining off his eyes, “It’s not your fault, Aizawa-san.”

Eriko was assaulting Aizawa. Technically that made her a criminal. However knowing Aizawa’s feelings on Kira he would never agree to make use of Demegawa’s “Letters to Kira” program where Light investigated and handpicked victims from citizen’s complaints so Eriko would never end up on the naughty list. He couldn’t just kill her either without falling under immediate suspicion because why would Kira want to kill Eriko Aizawa, perfectly normal house wife? He couldn’t even make her suffer from an unfortunate accident since the taskforce was now well aware that Kira could kill by means other than a heart attack.

“I know how it goes, you know… Misa. I was just seventeen and confused and she shows up totally infatuated and Ryuuza… he asks me to seduce her to get information on Kira. And I’m stuck with her now.”

It was true. He couldn’t extract himself from the grip of Misa’s Gothic black-painted talons even if he wanted to—besides he still had need of her eyes and justice had to come before all else.

“I never really thought of that,” Aizawa commiserated as he worked on prying the saké bottle from Light’s death grip “That sucks.”

“I know,” said Light while he finally acquiesced to Aizawa’s insistent tugging before he spilled the sake all over his pristine white dress shirt.

“Are you sure you don’t want to trade?”

“Trust me, Misa is not that great in bed. Besides if we tried anything like that she might go whine about it on TV and cause trouble for us. She is a celebrity, you know.”

“Damn Light, you think of everything! And you got all that computer stuff up and running in a day. You goddamned genius.”

Light laughed, nearly losing his balance and falling off the sofa.

“You are quite impressive, you know. You’re so damn smart. Pretty too. Goddamned gorgeous genius.”

Without thinking Light reached out and touched the older man’s bruised jawline.

The rest of the evening was a bit of a blur but the next morning Light was scandalized to discover that somehow during the course of the evening they had somehow become naked, bodily fluids had been exchanged, and he was now using Aizawa’s hairy chest as a pillow. Light winced slightly as he felt it leaking out between his thighs. The bastard hadn’t even used a condom.

“Let us never speak of this again,” Light said, piercing brown eyes taking on a distinctly homicidal edge.

“Agreed,” said the equally scandalized and totally straight police officer. It could’ve been worse. At least he came out on top, so to speak. It wasn’t a bad night if he pretended they weren’t drunk and conveniently ignored the fact that Light was male… Since that night Aizawa couldn’t help but sometimes look at the younger man with longing and frustration.

They never spoke of it again.


Matsuda grunted and the heavy steel door screeched open—the sixth one they tried.

He was dreading this, half expecting it really, but still that did nothing to prepare him for actually finding his worst fears confirmed behind that door.

Aizawa could not stop his gasp in horror.

They had found Light, they had found where his bullet-riddled body had bled out on the warehouse stairs.

They never spoke of it again.

He never told him how he felt and now it was too late.

Even when Light came under suspicion again he hadn’t wanted to believe it, he hadn’t wanted to suspect him but he was sworn to protect and serve as an officer of the law. He had to see the case through to the end no matter where it led him. Justice had to come first.

Aizawa would not be able to tell his wife why he locked himself in the shower and cried.


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