He woke up in a nauseatingly cold sweat, drenched in fear. A scream. His dry mouth and pounding heart accompanied that familiar rush of reality, the pulsating consciousness which returned to him sanity. His parasympathetic nervous system began to slow down his heart rate and restore moist saliva to his parched mouth.
Moments later, the nightmare was completely forgotten.
Watari's heavy feet gently thudded familiarly down the hall until he reached Ryuzaki's door.
"Ryuzaki."
The younger man blinked and responded without turning around.
"Everything's fine. Sorry to wake you, Watari."
The elderly man jiggled the doorknob until the door gave way. Ryuzaki still did not turn around to face him.
"This is the third time this week this has happened. I know the rise of Kira must cause you at least some distress. Are you sure there's nothing troubling you?"
Of course there was. From the recent rise of Kira, to his current lack of suspects, to his mild depression as a result of his lack of suspects. Not to mention his ego being bruised as a result of Watari's intervention over the last few days. He didn't need Watari to rescue him from every unpleasant dream, from every moment of insecurity. He didn't even need Watari to express any sort of concern. Ryuzaki found sympathy to be demeaning. He prided himself on being independent, prided himself on not relying on anyone for anything. Watari's intentions were good, Ryuzaki understood that, but it was these good intentions that buried Ryuzaki in his own childish pride.
"No, I'm fine," he finally said. "Honestly, I cannot even recall the content of the dream. Thank you, Watari. You should return to sleep. Sorry to wake you."
Watari's soft face crinkled into a kind smile he'd reserved only for Ryuzaki. Even facing the wall, Ryuzaki could still feel the mockingly benevolent smile at his back. More good intentions.
The door creaked closed as it had opened. Watari's steps gradually faded until, eventually, they were inaudible.
Ryuzaki shifted in his bed until he was at least relatively comfortable. He kicked off his covers into an indistinguishable heap on the floor. He lay on his back, his intense gaze on the ceiling.
This whole episode was a primary reason as to why Ryuzaki disliked sleeping. The vulnerability, the dreams, the unpredictability. His brain was always extremely active, so naturally his dreams were incredibly vivid and uncontrollable. He preferred to get by on coffee and cat naps. Another downside to sleep was that he couldn't get anything done when asleep. He could get an incredible about of work done in the seven hours most people required at night, easily. The reason for him sleeping for the last week or so was under Watari's orders, as a result of stress Ryuzaki experienced under the Kira mystery. He had so many questions: who what when where why how? So far Ryuzaki had no idea. He knew that resisting Watari's orders would be useless. Watari knew best. Ryuzaki had silently obeyed, something he never did.
But this time, Watari was wrong. They both knew it. The nightmares proved it.
Ryuzaki swung his jean-clad legs around the side of his bed. He hoisted himself out of bed and ambled into the bathroom.
He flipped on the light switch. He watched his pupils dilate within his heavy black eyes in the mirror, something he always found fascinating. He gazed at his reflection with his usual apathy; he hadn't looked at himself in the mirror in ages. Nothing had changed. Pale skin, dark eyes cradled in darker circles, unkempt black hair that went every which way. None of this upset him; he'd grown to accept his slovenly appearance. It didn't matter to him. Very little did.
After gazing into his reflection and using the restroom, Ryuzaki returned to his twin-sized bed. He pulled his laptop out from under his bed, plugged the charger into the wall, and, working on somewhat of a hunch, began poring through files of the Japanese police. He knew that one of them was somehow connected to Kira. He wouldn't (couldn't) rest until he uncovered the truth.