What Not To Wear (1/2)
So this idea came to me when I was watching TLC on a long plane flight. I realize, of course, that it would never happen. Which is why it's crack. Total crack. Enjoy.
Title: What Not To Wear (Part 1 of 2)
Characters: Light, L, Stacy and Clinton.
Rating: PG
Genre: Total crossover crack.
Words: 1950
Disclaimer: I don’t own Death Note or What Not to Wear.
L was very uncomfortable.
It all started when Light had convinced him to go outside. Even though it had been months since either of them had attended university classes, since there was constantly important work to be done on the Kira case, Light was strangely determined to go to campus for a reason he would not disclose. And since L was attached to the teenager by a meter of steel chain, if Light was going to school, the detective was coming with him. Naturally, this idea struck L as preposterous, so he was bowled over when the rest of the task force seemed to think it was a great idea for the two of them to take a day trip to the university. Chief Yagami had practically rushed them out the door.
So it was that L found himself strolling through the tree-lined courtyards of the university, still chained to Light. Something was definitely up.
“Light!” Two girls were twittering towards them. L recognized their faces as among those who had witnessed their tennis match earlier in the year. “Liiiiight! And look, it’s his friend, that Ryuga Hideki!”
Light waved to them with a bright smile, though L could tell he was annoyed at having been apprehended. The boys stopped and the girls came up to them. L wondered what it was about Light that turned females into frenetic clouds of giggles and hair twirling.
“We haven’t seen you around at all!” the taller girl said. “Where have you been? And, um…why are you handcuffed together?”
“Oh, this?” Light laughed casually, holding up the chain. “It’s for a study by the psychology department. I know it looks funny, but we’re getting paid.”
“Ohhhh.”
Light glanced at his watch subtly. “Well it was nice seeing you, but as a matter of fact we’re in a bit of a hurry.”
“Aww, okay. Bye, Light-kun, Ryuga-kun!” The girls giggled and walked away waving.
“We’re on campus for five minutes, and your fan club is already assembling,” L muttered, half in wonder.
“They’re nothing more than a minor irritation,” Light replied.
But L had already stopped listening, suddenly aware that someone was following them. He turned to look, and sure enough, a man and a woman. He could tell they were foreign - American mostly likely. They were bounding towards Light and L with just about as much enthusiasm as the flirtatious girls, and even less restraint. Something about the male suggested the two were not a couple.
“Light-kun, do you know those people?”
“It’s Stacy and Clinton!” said Light, with a smile that could only mean Exactly As Planned. The aforementioned Stacy and Clinton came up on either side of L, and Stacy put a hand on his startled shoulder. They were seriously impinging on his personal space.
“Are you Hideki?” Clinton asked in English, blinking at him brightly.
L did something he almost never did. He blinked. “Light-kun, what is the meaning of this?”
Stacy answered the question for him. “Congratulations, Hideki, you’re going on What Not to Wear!”
L stared at her.
“It’s a T.V. show,” said Light. “On The Learning Channel.”
“You mean you haven’t seen our show?” asked Clinton.
“Light-kun, this is very embarrassing.”
Light laughed an innocent, surprised laugh. “Why, Ryuga? Since when have you been the type to be embarrassed in public?”
“I am not going to appear on television!” L insisted.
“You might change your tune if you’d seen our show! Then you’d know that you’re getting a $5000 shopping spree in Tokyo!”
It occurred to Light that $5000 was not a large sum for the inexplicably wealthy detective. Unquestionably, however, it was far more than L had ever spent on clothing in his life.
“Why would I need a shopping spree? I have plenty of clothes.” He shot Light a dirty look. “I know you put me up to this. I’m calling Watari.” He plugged in the number, first on his speed dial.
“Watari, Yagami-kun has me here with strange people at the university. He is trying to make me appear on television!”
“Ah yes,” said the old man. “The fashion show, as I recall.”
“You know about this too?” L was outraged.
“I supported it wholeheartedly. In face, the entire Japanese task force was thrilled. I think it will do you good.”
“Thank you, Watari,” L snapped brusquely as he snapped the phone shut. He glared in turn at Light, at Clinton, and at Stacy, who appeared to be examining his shoes. But, that was that. He could not go against Watari.
"Oh, and may I ask you boys -- what's with the handcuffs?" Clinton grinned at them with an expression of mock innocence.
"It's for a psychology experiment," they said simultaneously.
~
At the What Not To Wear Tokyo studios, Stacy and Clinton just stared at the pathetic rack of clothing hanging before them. There were a total of seven long sleeved cotton shirts: four white, two off-white, and one a sort of faded porridge gray. There was also a single pair of blue jeans, for all intents and purposes identical to the one their contestant was currently wearing.
“Hideki,” said Clinton with a mix of sarcasm and shock, “I know you haven’t seen the show before. But you’re supposed to bring your whole wardrobe.”
L’s face was blank. “This is my whole wardrobe.”
“It’s true,” said Light with a resigned sigh.
Stacy scoffed. “What are you, homeless?”
Hardly, thought Light. L said nothing.
“Normally we make people throw away all their horrible clothes,” Stacy continued. “But they usually have closets and closets full.”
“And we make fun of them in the process,” added Clinton. “But we’re kind of at a loss here.”
Stacy took all seven white shirts at once off the rack and threw them unceremoniously into the trash bin in the center of the room.
“And what is this?” she asked, holding up the grayish one, which had something that looked like a chocolate stain on the front.
“That’s my weekend shirt,” said L. “I will not permit you to throw it away. It’s - I’ve -“
“Into the garbage it goes!” proclaimed Clinton, and it did. L’s face fell. Maybe if he had explained he’d had the shirt since he was ten years old, they’d change their minds. But he was not going to bring up a sentimental detail such as that.
Stacy was holding up the blue jeans and making a face. “Really?”
“They’re very clean,” L protested.
“You’d never know it,” said Stacy. “They look terrible! Look how worn out and faded they are. No dryer could save these knees from terminal bagginess. And look - the bottoms are all frayed and torn. Face it, Hideki, you need new jeans.”
“And maybe even some pants that aren’t jeans,” said Clinton, as if it were a novel idea. “For variety.”
“You don’t have any shoes?” inquired Stacy.
L was so bored with this it was almost amusing. “I am currently wearing my shoes.”
At once everyone was looking at L’s feet. The light grey sneakers were not actually in bad shape at all. Of course, this was because L avoided wearing them when at all possible. But they weren’t the most attractive shoes in the world, nor the most fashionable, even for ten years ago, which was when L got them.
“Those shoes have got to go too,” said Clinton.
L slipped them off with minimal effort. Good riddance.
“And what do you know, he’s not wearing any socks!” Stacy exclaimed with her hands in the air, glancing at Clinton as if the two of them should have predicted this. “Keep them on for now.”
He slipped them back on, glumly.
Stacy crossed her arms. “Hideki, you’re a college student, is that right?”
“Yes.”
“You’re at one of the finest universities in the country. From what Light here tells me, you’re one of the best in your entering class. So stop dressing like a bum!”
~
After they had finished panning L’s wardrobe, which was now residing in the bottom of a garbage bin, the hosts led the boys to a little room that had no furnishings except a single display mannequin. The mannequin had on a white collared shirt with light gray pinstripes, paired with dark blue jeans in considerably better shape than L’s. The shirt was untucked and layered over a thin grey t-shirt. A brown leather belt and some casual brown shoes completed the outfit.
“This is a look you could wear without straying too far from your comfort zone, without looking like you just rolled out of bed,” Stacy explained. “You’ve still got a jean, but it’s a darker jean with a narrower leg to dress it up a little. And here we’ve replaced the baggy long T-shirt with a light-colored collared shirt.”
L barely looked at it. “I would be unable to sit in those pants,” he said.
Light rolled his eyes. Oh no, here we go.
“What are you talking about?” Clinton asked. “Of course you can sit in them! They’re not that tight, not even on a more…well-fed person.”
L resented being referred to as poorly fed, but he let it go. He looked about for a chair, and as there were none, he sat down right on the ground in his usual squat. “I have to sit this way,” he explained. “If I sit in the way that normal people do, my reasoning ability drops by 40%.”
Clinton almost choked on his own laughter, as if unsure whether or not the contestant was serious or joking.
“Do you still have the number of that posture coach?” Stacy asked her co-host. “We could send him there instead of makeup.”
At the word “makeup,” L’s eyes got even bigger.
“Oh, but I was so looking forward to seeing what makeup would do for that complexion of his,” said Clinton. "Not to mention those circles under his eyes.”
It was a good thing both L and Light had extraordinary composure. If they hadn’t, L might have exploded in fury. Light, on the other hand, might have exploded with laughter.
“Let’s move on to the next outfit,” said Stacy. “Something you could wear to a nice restaurant, or to a meeting with the Dean.”
It was a cashmere sweater in navy blue, over a white dress shirt . The shirt-sweater combo was coupled with khaki pants. Its formality automatically made L anxious. It also looked disturbingly like something Light would wear.
"See how nice that looks, Ryuga?" said Light, as if on cue.
"Here we. You'll notice everything here is cut in a tailored, flattering way that will look very nice with your slim build."
Clinton nodded. "Generally, if crouching like a monkey is the most comfortable way to wear your pants, they're the wrong size."
"Crouching monkey, hidden hotness!" said Stacy. L was not amused.
"Trust us. Maybe you'll even feel like standing up straight. Anyway," said Stacy, "these outfits are just examples of things you could look for on your shopping spree tomorrow."
L had forgotten about the shopping spree. He added Stacy and Clinton to his very short list of Kira suspects, and sighed bitterly.
~
NEXT TIME: L braves the horrors of a downtown shopping spree. The dutiful Light provides moral support, style advice, and awkward tension in the dressing room. Also: L comes face to face with the Hair Police.
~
A/N: If anyone who enjoyed this is any good at fashion drawing, would you be interested in illustrating this (and the second part) with a few pictures of L's new clothes? I would do it if my art skills were up to snuff, but they aren't. I love a good collab.
UPDATE: PART TWO is now complete! :D Thanks for the love.
Title: What Not To Wear (Part 1 of 2)
Characters: Light, L, Stacy and Clinton.
Rating: PG
Genre: Total crossover crack.
Words: 1950
Disclaimer: I don’t own Death Note or What Not to Wear.
L was very uncomfortable.
It all started when Light had convinced him to go outside. Even though it had been months since either of them had attended university classes, since there was constantly important work to be done on the Kira case, Light was strangely determined to go to campus for a reason he would not disclose. And since L was attached to the teenager by a meter of steel chain, if Light was going to school, the detective was coming with him. Naturally, this idea struck L as preposterous, so he was bowled over when the rest of the task force seemed to think it was a great idea for the two of them to take a day trip to the university. Chief Yagami had practically rushed them out the door.
So it was that L found himself strolling through the tree-lined courtyards of the university, still chained to Light. Something was definitely up.
“Light!” Two girls were twittering towards them. L recognized their faces as among those who had witnessed their tennis match earlier in the year. “Liiiiight! And look, it’s his friend, that Ryuga Hideki!”
Light waved to them with a bright smile, though L could tell he was annoyed at having been apprehended. The boys stopped and the girls came up to them. L wondered what it was about Light that turned females into frenetic clouds of giggles and hair twirling.
“We haven’t seen you around at all!” the taller girl said. “Where have you been? And, um…why are you handcuffed together?”
“Oh, this?” Light laughed casually, holding up the chain. “It’s for a study by the psychology department. I know it looks funny, but we’re getting paid.”
“Ohhhh.”
Light glanced at his watch subtly. “Well it was nice seeing you, but as a matter of fact we’re in a bit of a hurry.”
“Aww, okay. Bye, Light-kun, Ryuga-kun!” The girls giggled and walked away waving.
“We’re on campus for five minutes, and your fan club is already assembling,” L muttered, half in wonder.
“They’re nothing more than a minor irritation,” Light replied.
But L had already stopped listening, suddenly aware that someone was following them. He turned to look, and sure enough, a man and a woman. He could tell they were foreign - American mostly likely. They were bounding towards Light and L with just about as much enthusiasm as the flirtatious girls, and even less restraint. Something about the male suggested the two were not a couple.
“Light-kun, do you know those people?”
“It’s Stacy and Clinton!” said Light, with a smile that could only mean Exactly As Planned. The aforementioned Stacy and Clinton came up on either side of L, and Stacy put a hand on his startled shoulder. They were seriously impinging on his personal space.
“Are you Hideki?” Clinton asked in English, blinking at him brightly.
L did something he almost never did. He blinked. “Light-kun, what is the meaning of this?”
Stacy answered the question for him. “Congratulations, Hideki, you’re going on What Not to Wear!”
L stared at her.
“It’s a T.V. show,” said Light. “On The Learning Channel.”
“You mean you haven’t seen our show?” asked Clinton.
“Light-kun, this is very embarrassing.”
Light laughed an innocent, surprised laugh. “Why, Ryuga? Since when have you been the type to be embarrassed in public?”
“I am not going to appear on television!” L insisted.
“You might change your tune if you’d seen our show! Then you’d know that you’re getting a $5000 shopping spree in Tokyo!”
It occurred to Light that $5000 was not a large sum for the inexplicably wealthy detective. Unquestionably, however, it was far more than L had ever spent on clothing in his life.
“Why would I need a shopping spree? I have plenty of clothes.” He shot Light a dirty look. “I know you put me up to this. I’m calling Watari.” He plugged in the number, first on his speed dial.
“Watari, Yagami-kun has me here with strange people at the university. He is trying to make me appear on television!”
“Ah yes,” said the old man. “The fashion show, as I recall.”
“You know about this too?” L was outraged.
“I supported it wholeheartedly. In face, the entire Japanese task force was thrilled. I think it will do you good.”
“Thank you, Watari,” L snapped brusquely as he snapped the phone shut. He glared in turn at Light, at Clinton, and at Stacy, who appeared to be examining his shoes. But, that was that. He could not go against Watari.
"Oh, and may I ask you boys -- what's with the handcuffs?" Clinton grinned at them with an expression of mock innocence.
"It's for a psychology experiment," they said simultaneously.
~
At the What Not To Wear Tokyo studios, Stacy and Clinton just stared at the pathetic rack of clothing hanging before them. There were a total of seven long sleeved cotton shirts: four white, two off-white, and one a sort of faded porridge gray. There was also a single pair of blue jeans, for all intents and purposes identical to the one their contestant was currently wearing.
“Hideki,” said Clinton with a mix of sarcasm and shock, “I know you haven’t seen the show before. But you’re supposed to bring your whole wardrobe.”
L’s face was blank. “This is my whole wardrobe.”
“It’s true,” said Light with a resigned sigh.
Stacy scoffed. “What are you, homeless?”
Hardly, thought Light. L said nothing.
“Normally we make people throw away all their horrible clothes,” Stacy continued. “But they usually have closets and closets full.”
“And we make fun of them in the process,” added Clinton. “But we’re kind of at a loss here.”
Stacy took all seven white shirts at once off the rack and threw them unceremoniously into the trash bin in the center of the room.
“And what is this?” she asked, holding up the grayish one, which had something that looked like a chocolate stain on the front.
“That’s my weekend shirt,” said L. “I will not permit you to throw it away. It’s - I’ve -“
“Into the garbage it goes!” proclaimed Clinton, and it did. L’s face fell. Maybe if he had explained he’d had the shirt since he was ten years old, they’d change their minds. But he was not going to bring up a sentimental detail such as that.
Stacy was holding up the blue jeans and making a face. “Really?”
“They’re very clean,” L protested.
“You’d never know it,” said Stacy. “They look terrible! Look how worn out and faded they are. No dryer could save these knees from terminal bagginess. And look - the bottoms are all frayed and torn. Face it, Hideki, you need new jeans.”
“And maybe even some pants that aren’t jeans,” said Clinton, as if it were a novel idea. “For variety.”
“You don’t have any shoes?” inquired Stacy.
L was so bored with this it was almost amusing. “I am currently wearing my shoes.”
At once everyone was looking at L’s feet. The light grey sneakers were not actually in bad shape at all. Of course, this was because L avoided wearing them when at all possible. But they weren’t the most attractive shoes in the world, nor the most fashionable, even for ten years ago, which was when L got them.
“Those shoes have got to go too,” said Clinton.
L slipped them off with minimal effort. Good riddance.
“And what do you know, he’s not wearing any socks!” Stacy exclaimed with her hands in the air, glancing at Clinton as if the two of them should have predicted this. “Keep them on for now.”
He slipped them back on, glumly.
Stacy crossed her arms. “Hideki, you’re a college student, is that right?”
“Yes.”
“You’re at one of the finest universities in the country. From what Light here tells me, you’re one of the best in your entering class. So stop dressing like a bum!”
~
After they had finished panning L’s wardrobe, which was now residing in the bottom of a garbage bin, the hosts led the boys to a little room that had no furnishings except a single display mannequin. The mannequin had on a white collared shirt with light gray pinstripes, paired with dark blue jeans in considerably better shape than L’s. The shirt was untucked and layered over a thin grey t-shirt. A brown leather belt and some casual brown shoes completed the outfit.
“This is a look you could wear without straying too far from your comfort zone, without looking like you just rolled out of bed,” Stacy explained. “You’ve still got a jean, but it’s a darker jean with a narrower leg to dress it up a little. And here we’ve replaced the baggy long T-shirt with a light-colored collared shirt.”
L barely looked at it. “I would be unable to sit in those pants,” he said.
Light rolled his eyes. Oh no, here we go.
“What are you talking about?” Clinton asked. “Of course you can sit in them! They’re not that tight, not even on a more…well-fed person.”
L resented being referred to as poorly fed, but he let it go. He looked about for a chair, and as there were none, he sat down right on the ground in his usual squat. “I have to sit this way,” he explained. “If I sit in the way that normal people do, my reasoning ability drops by 40%.”
Clinton almost choked on his own laughter, as if unsure whether or not the contestant was serious or joking.
“Do you still have the number of that posture coach?” Stacy asked her co-host. “We could send him there instead of makeup.”
At the word “makeup,” L’s eyes got even bigger.
“Oh, but I was so looking forward to seeing what makeup would do for that complexion of his,” said Clinton. "Not to mention those circles under his eyes.”
It was a good thing both L and Light had extraordinary composure. If they hadn’t, L might have exploded in fury. Light, on the other hand, might have exploded with laughter.
“Let’s move on to the next outfit,” said Stacy. “Something you could wear to a nice restaurant, or to a meeting with the Dean.”
It was a cashmere sweater in navy blue, over a white dress shirt . The shirt-sweater combo was coupled with khaki pants. Its formality automatically made L anxious. It also looked disturbingly like something Light would wear.
"See how nice that looks, Ryuga?" said Light, as if on cue.
"Here we. You'll notice everything here is cut in a tailored, flattering way that will look very nice with your slim build."
Clinton nodded. "Generally, if crouching like a monkey is the most comfortable way to wear your pants, they're the wrong size."
"Crouching monkey, hidden hotness!" said Stacy. L was not amused.
"Trust us. Maybe you'll even feel like standing up straight. Anyway," said Stacy, "these outfits are just examples of things you could look for on your shopping spree tomorrow."
L had forgotten about the shopping spree. He added Stacy and Clinton to his very short list of Kira suspects, and sighed bitterly.
~
NEXT TIME: L braves the horrors of a downtown shopping spree. The dutiful Light provides moral support, style advice, and awkward tension in the dressing room. Also: L comes face to face with the Hair Police.
~
A/N: If anyone who enjoyed this is any good at fashion drawing, would you be interested in illustrating this (and the second part) with a few pictures of L's new clothes? I would do it if my art skills were up to snuff, but they aren't. I love a good collab.
UPDATE: PART TWO is now complete! :D Thanks for the love.