July 6, 2007
Dear Diary,
I guess I never truly imagined falling in love with the man I originally suspected to be Kira. Although, it's quite doubtless that he feels nothing for me. In fact, I would say that there's ninety percent chance that I'm correct...I could never be too sure, though.
If Light is, indeed, Kira, then it wouldn't too illogical to impose that he's asexual, or, at the very least, disassociated from the want of mating with either sex. It fits the profile of Kira as a sociopath, and knowing how motivated sociopaths are to appear normal, it wouldn't be unwise to deduce that Light would want to people to think that he's heterosexual and not just some mass-murdering serial killer. Under this hypothesis, I would even go as far to say that Light is just ambitious, merely interested in fulfilling his ideal role for the world he so 'loyally' serves.
If Light isn't Kira, however, there's about a fifty-five percent chance that he's heterosexual and a forty-five percent chance that he's homosexual, meaning that I might have an opportunity under my sleeves. I've heard tell of countless stories revolving Light's brief relationships with women (I don't creep and tell), and, from what I've been told, I can safely assume that they were weren't intimate. ...So, it goes without saying that Light could honestly be gay, or prefer men over women.
To quell my interest in this matter, I decided to invite over Light at about 6:30. I have about thirty minutes to get ready. After I gather enough information, I believe that I'll describe our encounter...Yes, this should be quite fascinating.
6:10 p.m.
At 6:10, I take my time to sort through my things to find something kinky to wear. I'm not too sure if Light is an assman, or if he prefers a nice bulge, but I've taken the liberty of slipping on a fresh pair of jockstraps. It takes about roughly five minutes to make up my mind, and, while I think about the right slutty pair of bottoms to put on, I gel and slick back my hair. "You're gonna make all the boys lose it, pretty boy," I say to myself, snapping my fingers as I look into the mirror.
After that, I take another two minutes to find the right shade of eyeliner to accentuate my physical constitution as a seductive, skanky male thing...The shade that I use is not to be confused with the black I usually put on. I have a tough time deciding which one would work at first, but eventually, I decide to go with the blue that I almost never put on. I usually save it for times when I'm feeling particularly blue and self-loathing. This time, however, I'm putting it on because I feel very uncomfortable in this jock.
By 6:21, I've put on blue shade of eyeliner I just rambled on about. Next, I walk down the hallway of my apartment and into the living room to find a stack of my old jazz records on the floor. (I went through a fad back in the day.) Eventually, I produce the sexiest record of the bunch and put in my player. This process takes no loner than four minutes, and by the time I can hear the music flowing, it's about five minutes before Light's expected to arrive, making it 6:25.
Dragging out and setting my splitback chair on the pathway beside the door, I curl into something lewd and nasty once I find myself relaxed...Light arrives no more than a minute after six thirty. Before he opens up the door, I make sure that slurp down what's left of the mint ice cream I had earlier on.
At exactly 6:31 p.m., Light knocks on the door, asking if I'm there. Answering, I tell him that it's open for him to come in...But as he cracks open the door, Light's eyes light up in alarm, making it seem incredibly likely that there's a sixty-five percent chance that he's never had sex before. "L-L, what are you trying to do? Is this another test to prove my innocence? And if you are trying to seduce me, what's makes you think that I'm interested?" Light asks me, trying to calm himself down.
Smiling, I reply: "Very nice, Light Yagami. I see that your deductive skills are sharper than those of Holmes. Yes, indeed, I am testing you, but this doesn't necessarily have to be a test." Winking at him, I gander at the expanding region of his pants and continue, "And if you're not interested, can you explain to me why you've grown an erection by just looking at me? You say that you don't want me, but your little friend says otherwise...Don't be shy. I don't bite. You'll appear more suspicious if you simply run off."
. . .
As you can probably imagine (and you wouldn't be wrong by assuming this), there was a hundred percent chance that we had sex for a very long time, and there's a hundred-ten percent chance that I was entirely wrong about him being a virgin.