Disclaimer: Death Note does not belong to me. I am humble otaku trash.
"For once, you seem to have done something right, Matsuda," said L, reaching out a hand to accept Matsuda's offering of a bag of miniature Snickers bars and a boxed apple pie from a local fast-food restaurant. Everyone else, of course, could expect bags and cartons full of normal foodstuffs.
Matsuda, who was the only other person in the computer laboratory with Ryuzaki, flushed with delight. "Oh wow. You really think so? I figured you'd all be getting hungry, so I decided to –"
L's cell phone suddenly rang. Without even a glance at Matsuda, mouth agape in a smile as he stopped talking midsentence, L picked up. "Yes, Mr. Yagami, what is it?"
"Ryuzaki," answered the steady, gravelly voice on the other end, "I've discovered something I think you may need to see."
"Understood. I'll be up in a few moments. Matsuda, go find Light and tell him to follow me to his father's office."
Still twitching with the fleeting happiness of a moment's praise from Ryuzaki, Matsuda responded with some surprise. "Really? Light? Why do you want him to come? Don't you think he's Kira?" And then, eagerly: "Are you starting to think maybe he's in the clear?"
"No, on the contrary: how he reacts to Mr. Yagami's news will almost certainly shift the balance of probability in one direction or another, and so far his responses have only served to deepen my suspicions. Even so, his input throughout our project has been nothing short of invaluable. In the long term, his behavior will be useful should I find myself in the position of a retrospective evaluation of his reactions to key turning points in the tracking down of our killer."
Matsuda's smile faltered. "Oh."
"Have him follow me when he can." L hadn't looked at Matsuda even once throughout the entire exchange. He doubled back only to retrieve a Snickers bar, then took a second – and then a third, in case the development turned out to be really challenging. Then he left, leaving the now dejected Matsuda and the smell of cheap hamburgers in his wake.
...
Ryuzaki entered Souichirou's office with a curt knock on the door.
"Mr. Yagami," he said, "I've advised Matsuda that before you relate whatever findings –"
Before L could say anything more, Souichirou shut the door – not loudly, with a slam; and yet not gently, with deliberation; but brusquely, as if he had practiced listening for a signal. Then he turned to face L, stony-faced.
L's own expression remained unchanged. "Have I done something to upset you, Mr. Yagami?"
"We need to talk." The four words sounded like the purr of thunder in the distance.
L replied, "I assume you mean about something other than –"
"I have been kept here, away from my family – away from my wife – for days on end over the last several weeks," Souirchirou declared, still in that quiet, level voice. "I accept my part of the responsibility. But the majority of my discomfort is owing to you and your demands." He took a step towards Ryuzaki.
L began to unwrap a Snickers bar. "Mr. Yagami, when we took this on –"
"I know what I agreed to." Sweat had begun to dampen his face. In that moment, L realized, he looked large and powerful – perhaps, L observed with some uneasiness, even threatening. "But now I expect to be paid what I am due."
He seized L by the wrist and forced him to his knees. L held on to the Snickers bar, wondering when he would have the opportunity to actually take a bite.
Then Souichirou, who towered over the blank-eyed detective kneeling on the floor, undid the button of his trousers. L felt a rush of embarrassment, wondering if, perhaps he should look away. From the floor, he had a clear view of the sweat stains underneath Soichiro's armpits.
"Swallow it," Souichirou commanded softly. "I don't want people wondering what's down your shirt."
When he thrust his enormous organ into L's mouth – L gave a hastily muffled yell of alarm – the Snickers bar slipped from the detective's fingers, unwrapped but uneaten.