Chapter 1 Hitsuzen

"Sucker love is heaven sent. You pucker up, our passion's spent. My heart's a tart, your body's rent. My body's broken, yours is bent. Carve your name into my arm. Instead of stressed I lie here charmed. 'Cause there's nothing else to do. Every me and every you." From Placebo's song Every Me and Every You (Album: Without You I'm Nothing 1999).

AN: This story is a DN and XXX-holic crossover. It is both an April fools prank (on Light) and a belated birthday gift. The gift is also twofold, for my favorite character: Watanuki and for a girl who since the fifteenth has turned 16. Happy birthday sweetheart. Auntie Merc loves you dearly. I know you like watching Light twist so enjoy, darling. Oh, and I've also included a possible answer to your question of why L doesn't sound English.

All the chapters are going to be called Hitsuzen for reasons explained within the fic. They all are basically one-shots. I'm probably sticking to stanzas from Placebo's marvelously wicked song for the quotes while they last.

Light Yagami woke up with a start. He sat brusquely on the cobblestone landing on top of a long stone staircase in which he had been lying and looked around. Behind him the staircase stretched far down; it was surrounded by greenery, though the steps were well taken care of and free of plants and dangerous moss. Above him was a small wooden house in traditional style. He fought the sense of disorientation that came over him, forced himself to calm down, breathing slowly. Once his pulse was lowered to acceptable levels, he got ready to assess both the situation and himself in a rational fashion.

As part of Kira's especial task force he had received some training that could aid him in a situation just like this. Since he had a firm grasp of who he was, he started by asking himself three question: What date is it? Where am I? How I got here? He was only able to answer one of those questions, the date: January 28th 2010, a little more than one month before his 24th birthday. He didn't have the faintest clue of where he was and how he had gotten there.

He felt the grip of fear getting hold of him and that was rare in itself. Not only was he a police officer, trained to respond under harsh conditions; Light Yagami was Kira, God of Justice. He did not panic, he inspired fear in the heart of the evildoers, before those treacherous hearts stopped beating for good upon his irrevocable order. His hand went not to the gun in the side holster underneath his jacket, but to the watch on his wrist, where a sliver of the Death Note was hidden. That was telling of which he considered the most dangerous weapon at his disposal. He drew comfort from it.

He forced himself to get up from the floor and muttered sourly: "Get a grip, Light."

The young man seemed to appear from thin air. He was wearing a red kimono with a Hanagurima (flower cart) design with a Noshi awabi (origami garland) colorful obi belt. It was the kind of thing a very wealthy and traditional bride would wear for her wedding day. He was also wearing red rimmed glasses that matched perfectly the shade of the kimono. How could Light hadn't noticed him before with that outfit?

The boy had tussled dark hair. And behind the glasses he had mismatched eyes. Exact numbers of the prevalence of heterochromia vary greatly, depending on which study you focus in, but in all cases is less than 1 percent of the world population. Light remembered that fact from an investigation of a suspect in a white collar theft who had the condition. However, in this case, such rarity, alongside the ostentatious kimono, was another troublesome sign pointing towards a trade in which such a thing could be marketed at a high cost. Those cat-like, indigo and green eyes could be very appealing to some.

The boy couldn't have been much older than eighteen or nineteen -if he was even that old, though Light was positive his employers would say he was. - He was leaning casually against a column of the vine covered arbor gateway that Light now realized was the entrance to a roji tea garden. The boy was languidly smoking on a long-stem delicately carved tortoiseshell pipe. He was probably the host, waiting to greet the guests and lead them into the tea house, where the chanoyu ceremony would be performed.

Light cocked an eyebrow at the sight of him. He had met a few eccentric tea ceremony performers in his time, but this guy took the prize. His inner cop wondered if the youngster was only smoking tobacco, for he had an air of lethargic languor about him that could very well point towards a more nefarious substance being inside that pipe. But he let that slide and focused on the kimono he was wearing, which was slightly more problematic. What kind of guy would wear such a risqué kimono? And what kind of tea house would employ such a guy?

Not to mention that it was unusual to perform an afternoon tea ceremony in the dead of winter. Winter tea ceremonies were usually done at the break of dawn or in the night, the natural dark and candle light were often used as contrasts. Not that it felt like winter at all. The air was warm and fragrant from the green plants in the garden, with verbena and rosemary being the more prevalent aromas. It felt more like a summer afternoon than late January. Flowers are not used in roji gardens, so as not to distract guest from the meditative state conductive to a successful chanoyu ceremony. Which made him go back to the very loud red kimono the guy was wearing. The tea ceremony was supposed to be contemplative, man's kimonos for it were minimalistic, not loud… That boy's outfit was one very short step away from cross-dressing. What was that place? He was still turning that though around in his head when the young man spoke.

His voice sounded educated, with good enunciation and a pleasant tenor timber. He smiled warmly at him: "I'm glad you are finally awake, Detective Yagami. It took you a bit longer this time. We were starting to worry."

That we set off all kind of alarms inside him. Who exactly was the guy talking about when he said we? Light narrowed his eyes: "Do I know you?"

The guy stifled a chuckle: "Can we ever really know another person? Oft times we don't even get to fully know ourselves in what little time we dwell in the world. We are all capable of doing things we didn't think ourselves capable of doing."

Light smiled sardonically: "That is a rather convoluted answer for a straightforward question. The kind that is actually no answer at all. Evasiveness only serves to arouse suspicion."

"Suspicion only arises in suspicious natures, Detective. Which I guess you are. As for a straightforward question… Isn't that an intriguing concept? I don't think I've ever really encountered one of those in all the years that I have lived."

"Give it time, you are young, I'm sure one of those will come punch you in the face in due time."

The guy laughed goodheartedly: "Time is for me to handle and for you to wonder about, Detective… As pleasant as this exchange always is, I think we should rather move along. The clock is ticking and our matcha tea awaits. It would be a pity to miss the sundown. I've also prepared some cake, you haven't eaten in a while and unaddressed hungers seem to make you testy."

Light frowned, this guy's vagaries were beginning to get on his nerves. Unaddressed hungers my boot. What does this clown think he knows about me? Both as Kira and as Detective Light Yagami he was used to getting answers when he posed questions.

"Wait a minute, you once more imply that we have met before, when I'm sure I've never before laid eyes on you. You don't seem like someone easy to forget."

"Memory can be tricky here, but thank you for the compliment, Detective."

"Oh, I didn't mean it as a compliment. Not at all."

"Choose not to be harmed- and you won't feel harmed. Don't feel harmed- and you haven't been… It can ruin your life only if it ruins your character."

"That is Marcus Aurelius, meditations 4.7 and 4.8. You don't look like a stoic."

"Looks can be deceiving, Detective."

"And at times they can be a very effective way of telling the world about who we are and about our intentions. That kimono of yours, for example, it gives out a very clear message."

He rose an eyebrow: "Does it? And what message would that be, Detective Yagami?"

Just that instant the kimono slid on the guy's very naked shoulder. He wasn't wearing anything underneath it. Light gulped and signaled the offending sleeve: "You tell me, Mr..."

He fixed the wardrobe malfunction, tightened the obi about his waist and laughed: "Sometimes a kimono is just a kimono, I woke up feeling like using red this morning. I find the color empowering. And I had the feeling that today I was going to need all the power I could command. This is my best red kimono, the lining is better suited for winter. With this warm weather, I should have probably used a yukata, but this is just the right tone of red for me today. So, as a compromise, I decided to wear it with minimal underwear. Not that I owe you or anyone an explanation of how I dress. There is no harm in giving in to such innocent whims once in a while. You can call me Watanuki, Detective Light Yagami."

Watanuki means April1st. That is April's Fools day, a day for tomfoolery in some countries. That was also quite obviously a nom de guerre for a smart-ass boy with a jejune sense of humor. A whimsical name for someone who peddled a trade that promoted quenching unaddressed hungers... It was one of those places after all. And what that also meant was that he couldn't just write this bozo off with the Death Note. Was the use of pseudonym purposeful, did the guy know who he was really dealing with or was that just… corporate policy? He'd have to figure it out, just like everything else. The weirdo in the red kimono wasn't going to give him the answers he wanted. That much was clear.

Light grit his teeth, rudeness should be a crime. Giving him a pseudonym while using his full name was a calculated insult that hadn't gone unnoticed. And Kira only knew one punishment for any crime. It was times like that in which Light almost wished he had stricken the Shinigami's Eyes bargain with Ryuk… Almost… Only an idiot of Amane's caliber would strike such a bargain.

Inside his head he never thought of the wretched girl by her given name: Misa, it would have implied an intimacy that he found deeply repugnant. Once the stupid Goth had managed to have him grabbed by the balls aided by her lovestruck Shinigami. Inside his head he admitted that much. Light Yagami did not cultivate self-deception, the only way to learn from a mistake is to acknowledge it. After devising Rem's demise, he had kept her as a follower, a cover to mollify his family's outdated notions of normalcy and an occasional bed warmer, but nothing else.

Going through facts helped him keep his calm. It also helped him put the guy and his troublesome kimono in the right perspective: he was a minor nuisance and nothing else. But it still didn't solve the matter of what on earth was he doing there. He decided to approach the problem from a different angle.

"I seem to have forgotten the purpose of my presence here and you seem to have some knowledge of it, perhaps you can help me."

"Oh, Detective, I can't answer you that point blank. You have to figure it out yourself, or else, what would be the fun in it?"

The little freak was right about something, he was feeling testy: "How am I supposed to figure anything out if you keep answering me with evasions and the daily aphorism?"

His polite smile broadened into true humor: "You can ask me anything about me and the shop and I will answer truthfully, it can't be no other way. Those are the rules."

Light laughed meanly: "You'll answer me truthfully if I ask about yourself? Just like you did when I asked for your name and you replied to me that you are called April 1st?"

"My name really is Kimihiro Watanuki. My family name was chosen when my ancestors emigrated from China. And my parents had the family's weird sense of humor too. They named me Kimihiro which is prophet. But with a name like yours, you can hardly throw the first stone. Your name is written with three kanjis: Yoru which stands for night, Kami which stands for god and Tsuki which stands for moon and that you read as Light Yagami. Isn't that right, Detective?

"How can you know my name or how it is written?"

"I can write mine for you, if you want us to be even. You hate to feel at disadvantage and I want you to be at ease." He said grabbing a long stick and tracing the kanjis in the sand of a stone garden. The guy had nice calligraphy and a proper writing style.

Still, Light felt the perverse pleasant anticipation of being able to feel despise for our fellow human being. A Zen garden in a roji? That was tacky. I don't know what you think you know about me, but this ends now. You are nothing but a tacky whore in a tacky brothel regardless of how refined you think you are and if that is your real name, you are a dead whore too.

"Do you disapprove, Detective Yagami?" asked the boy with a mockingly raised eyebrow.

Light felt shocked at the question as if the guy had intruded in his thoughts.

The guy stifled a laugh: "I mean, do you disapprove of a Zen garden, in a traditional roji? You are too young for being a traditionalist. But then, twenty-three is not nearly old enough to be going around in a beige coat, tucked up white shirt and green khakis. Not even your fashionable hairdo can offset that outdated fashion choice. The hairdo is a bit off too in another regard: the casual look should be effortless, yours is too calculated, too perfect to be really perfect. The kind of beauty that can move the soul and shake it to its foundations is only achieve with asymmetry and a measure of imperfection. For only that which is unique can be truly breathtaking. When you strive too hard to make everything the way tradition dictates it to be, the best you can hope for is to achieve a soulless beauty. I, on the contrary, like to get creative, mix things up and allow experiences that cannot be repeated to blossom. Why don't you try something new the next time you are at the hairdresser? I think a side hard part with a high skin fade would become you. It would let the world see those piercing eyes of yours unhindered. Eyes are the gateways to the soul, though, perhaps, it is your intention to keep them hidden, Detective precisely because of that."

Amane had said pretty much the same though not in such a verbose way one time she had felt entitled to tell him her opinion on the way he dressed. Was the guy flirting or just trying to annoy him? A vein started pulsing in Light's forehead: "I like to keep things straight. Simplicity is a sign of true elegance."

"What is the point of elegance, if it cannot bring you joy, detective? It is plainly clear to me that your bid for turning this complex world into black and white simplicity is not making anyone happy, not even you."

"Is joy supposed to be the highest aspiration? Is that what you are selling in this shop: cheap thrills?"

His smile widened: "In a way I am selling happiness. And the kind of happiness that can be bought and sold is not one of the highest quality, though it is not cheap either. All things have a price and the price for getting what your heart desires is always high, Detective. Though I prefer to think that what we are giving people is a fair proportion of their deepest desires paired up with what they sorely need. We are not selling mystical lemons here."

Light raised an eyebrow: "That sounds like a sure recipe for damnation. Most people don't know what is good for them, as for what they need, most are in want of a good whooping to get them straighten. And no snake oil peddler ever admits to be selling hoaxes."

He laughed unbridled: "Most people don't notice that; but, then again, you are smarter than most people. Regardless, even smart guys are only usually able to see the speck in their brothers' eye. No one ever thinks their own desires may be sinful or wrong."

Light was not religious and his family was Shintoist; however he was an educated man, so he got the bible reference. In that he could repay the little whore in kind: "People in general neglect to see the log in their own eyes. Just as sinners go around casting first stones, this world is imperfect in its nature...It is in a bad need of a cleansing." That is why Kira was so important, because it was the only one who could do it. He looked at the guy appraisingly: "Is it ever possible to know what people truly want?"

"It is here, we are always able to give people what they really want, even when they themselves don't know what they are looking for, we work hard at guaranteeing our customer's satisfaction."

Light scoffed: "I bet you do. So how do you go about it? Do your clients fill out some inquest? Do you conduct interviews while you serve them tea?"

"This kind of thing cannot be rushed, it takes up its own time and there is no denying it. My clients and I usually have plenty of time at our disposal to get to know each other inside out, but I'm typically able to see just what it is that they want by watching them walk through our door. I learned that from the best. Yūko could figure people out with a glance."

"Really, just that easy you are able to see people's deepest desires?" Before he could stop himself, he said: "Would you be able to do that with me?"

Who knows what had come over him. Light regretted it as soon as the words left his lips, he didn't want the little freak to get the wrong idea.

Watanuki leaned towards Light and asked confidentially: "Would you want that from me, Detective? Would you be able to take it, if I were willing to give it to you?"

Light couldn't help blushing, half of it was from rightful indignation, of the other half he would rather not think about.

The silence was turning uncomfortable when a couple of girls in primp western dresses rushed into the garden yelling: "Watanuki, Watanuki, you have to come in, he is doing it again! The cake is almost gone! And he bounced Mokona like a ball. We tried to stop him, but he was very rude to us..."

One of the girls with short straight pink hair with two buns sniggered and pointed to the other with long curly blue hair in pigtails: "Maru called him names and threw water with her water gun at him, Watanuki, until he let Mokona go. He got even angrier and we grabbed Mokona and ran. She is in the kitchen drinking sake, for her nerves she says. We don't know where he is."

Watanuki rose an eyebrow: "You shouldn't call people names, Maru, or throw water at them. Even when they are rude to us; that is no excuse for us to be rude to them. And you Moro, you shouldn't be telling on your sister, it is not nice. And Mokona doesn't need a pretext to drink like a Cossack, but this guy had no right mistreating her. You should have come to me right away. Do that the next time."

Watanuki dreaded it, but he was fairly certain that there was going be a next time. Once more Detective Yagami was adding two and two and getting one thousand… He stifled a sigh. Time is such a complex concept, so intimately linked to the way we are, we live in it and die by it… Some would think that trying to teach manners to a couple of Golems that would never grow up was a waste of that precious time, but Watanuki thought that everything that furthered harmony in this world couldn't possibly be a wasted effort. Though some efforts to achieve harmony were harder to make than others. Like dealing with their irksome house guest. This sigh he just couldn't stifle, the guy could be a veritable pain in the ass, it almost made him miss Dōmeki… Almost...

"You'll have to excuse me, Detective. I have to go deal with a minor household crisis, before we can continue our chat. Maru, Moro, why don't you show Detective Yagami to the tea house and have him wait there for me. You can practice pouring him some tea. It was almost ready anyway; you only need to pour the water in the chawan bowl I've already prepped and whisk it. Remember: make sure the water temperature is right, it must be exactly 175 degrees F a little shy from boiling. Handle the thermometer and the brassier with care, I don't want you to get burnt. Scoop exactly two grams of matcha powder, each scoop with the ivory chasaku is about one gram. Hold the chasen (bamboo whisk) firmly. Use brisk, straight wrist movements to get the foam just right. The cake is gone, but we still have some cinnamon and clove snap cookies hidden in the pantry in that place he hasn't found yet, offer some to the Detective too."

The kids were too young to be practicing anything in a place like that. The guy was barely legal himself. It all seemed highly inappropriate and perhaps that was the reason why Light was there. He also felt troubled by the description of what apparently was a disgruntled client abusing a drunkard whore. The yakuza were often clients and proprietors of these kind of places. He tried to glean some information from the girls, but conversing with them was like trying to chat with magpies while herding cats. They kept jumping form one inane topic to another going back and forth, often replying in unison. That is when they didn't reply in the exact opposite way. It was amazing how much they could blabber without revealing any useful information.

A few minutes into the interrogation he was getting a splitting headache, so he gave up. He sat there sipping his green matcha tea on a celadon glazed demitasse of eggshell porcelain hand painted with birds and flowers. That Watanuki guy really liked to mix things up. But, though Light was a bit of a traditionalist who usually preferred drinking on the chawan bowl, the contrast of the dark green matcha tea in the jade green of tea cup was surprisingly pleasing. He wondered if the tea service was Chinese like the guy's ancestors. Was this a triad tea house, instead of being of the yakuza? Not that the crime syndicate that this place catered to really mattered, but it would be nice to have a heads-up.

The tea turned out to be fairly decent too, given that it was made by the scatter brain girls. He was not usually tempted by sweets, but he ate the cookies that were truly delicious. He enjoyed the silence until the guy came back.

Watanuki took his sweet time to return. Lord only knows what it took to handle the unruly client, when he came back he was sporting a bruising on his nape. Light shuddered thinking: Is that a love bite? Who gets that on the back of the neck? How disgusting!

Out loud he asked: "Is everything alright?"

The guy didn't answer, not until he had poured himself a cup of green tea that he downed almost in one gulp. He sighed: "No, not really. This is getting really tiresome. For every step we go forward, we fall back two."

A deep frown creased his forehead. Watanuki began pacing the length of the room and ranting in a high voice and at such speed that Light was barely able to make out what the guy was saying: "I like to think of myself as a very patient man. And I've dealt with difficult clients before, but you two are quite frankly impossible. He is an inconsiderate narcissist with no regards for the people he is living with. I've seen pigs with better hygiene and manners. It is a feat of mental strength to be able to eat after watching him gorge himself on sweets and I'm used to living with people who can eat twice their body weight. Certain magic requires tons of energy to sustain. As for you, you are a paranoid murderous egomaniac, obsessed with weird sex practices, most of which I had no idea even existed before making your acquaintance and being accused of indulging them. I'm convinced that some of them might only exist in the twisted recesses of your mind, Detective. I've perused Master Clow's Library Arcana and I have yet to find one single mention to what ungodly thing a backwards ice-cream soda with a twist might be."

The guy was no making any sense, was he on some kind of drug, Light wondered. That was usually the case with people in his trade. They got hooked on substances to allow themselves to pull through what they did for a living: "What the hell is a backwards ice-cream soda with a twist?"

"You tell me. That is what you said, along with some other things I'd rather not remember when you asked exactly what services we were offering here a couple of times away. I still have nightmares about some of it. But as to what a backwards ice-cream soda may be, I have no idea yet and that may be a blessing. Everything, I mean literally everything can be found in Master Clow's books, even the unmentionable practices of worship of Ancient Cosmic Monstrosities whose very mention can drive men mad. Frankly, I find your whole yakuza brothel delusion deeply insulting. It is a direct hit to my self-esteem that the first thing that crosses your mind every single time you see me is that I'm some sort of perverted tempter intent on seducing you. Hah! You should be so lucky to be able to afford my services or hold my interest, if that were my inclination and or line of work."

"I don't care what you do for a living or how much you charge for it. Though I must inform you that anything you say may have legal consequences. I'm still a cop, mister. And I don't appreciate the implication that I'd be interested in any of your inclinations or services. Whatever the reasons I'm here may be that is not it, of that I'm sure."

Watanuki sat right in front of Light, kneeling gracefully and looked at him with his dichromatic eyes. He inhaled and spoke in a calmer tone that made his speech intelligible: "Detective Yagami, do you truly not remember the reasons that brought you here?"

Light never really enjoyed being in close quarters with anyone. He only put up with it for the sake of keeping a facade of sociability, but this guy's close proximity was more than a little disturbing, it took all his will power not to pull away brusquely. Stiffening his back he replied in the most neuter voice he could conjure up: "I haven't got the faintest clue, I was hoping you could help me get some clarity."

He sniggered: "That is what I have been trying to do all along, Detective! Only with clarity about your past and by owning what you have done can you ever hope for a future. Your choices make it impossible for you to go either to Heaven or Hell, the only way for you is to expiate your karma in the dukkha -the dissatisfaction and pain- of the wheel of Samsara, reincarnating until you eliminate, cease -nirodha- the samudaya, the cause of that pain and strive for the eightfold path marga to finally scape the cycle. You two are a very especial cases for you keep coming here as yourselves. But if you insist on holding onto your egos and grievances, all this will be in vain."

"I don't understand what the relevance of that religious mumbo-jumbo is. What are you trying to do? What is your angle?"

"My angle? Do you think I want this? For heaven sakes, you two must have some friends in higher planes to be able to get this chance after what you both have done! Playing with the fate of the world like children for your own amusement… Still, it would be a pity to have it wasted. Buddha only knows what I have done to deserve this rat wheel. Hard as I try to figure it out, nothing I could have possibly done can justify this dukkha for me." The guy once more inhaled deeply: "Please, Detective, the stakes have never been higher, make your best effort to put that bright mind of yours to good use and try to remember. Why don't you start by figuring out what you were doing right before coming here?"

The sliding latticed shōji door opened to let someone in. The man was wearing a blue kimono in the traditional ocean wave crest pattern Sei Gai Ha Mon. Below it he had chemise of the purest white. The demure elegance of his attire was belied by the irregular mane of black hair spiking every which way from his head, as well as his listless, slouching frame and his naked twitchy feet.

Light Yagami breathed in deep, he could have recognized those gnarly toes anywhere after spending a couple of sleepless night staring at them when L had insisted to handcuff Light to him and Light had insisted that they slept facing opposite sides of the bed.

He saw red. Anger twisting his handsome features. Of course L was behind this! He had drugged him and took him to a deviant whore house. He was probably trying to break him in order to get a confession out of him and he had been disoriented enough that it could have worked. The bastard. With an angry growl he muttered: "Ryuzaki."

The man smiled like some derange panda cartoon, his face a sickly powdery white with deep dark bags underneath his insanely focused eyes. He said chirpily: "Top of the morning to you, Light. It feels like I just saw you yesterday. Probably because I did. There is no need to use that pseudonym anymore. You can call me Lawliet now."

"I'll call you something alright… Fuzakeru na!"

Watanuki moaned, all hope of establishing a positive rapport was gone now. Those two were the very definition of an antagonistic relationship. He couldn't help nagging: "I told you to wait in the parlor until I called you. Why is it that following a simple indication is so hard for someone who claims to be the greatest detective in the world?"

L protested frowning like a toddler about to throw an epic tantrum: "I'm sick and tire of waiting in the parlor. There is nothing to do there. If I had a computer, a real one, not that useless desktop, I could pass the time. I've already finished all the cake after having to fight the black debu bunny for it and I can feel my blood sugar dropping as we speak."

Watanuki sighed: "You lost the privilege of using my laptop after spilling your tea over it. I thought you had ruined it."

L smiled crookedly: "I fix it, didn't I? It's not the first time it happens to me."

"Oh, believe me, it is the last time, at least while you are under my roof, Lawliet. The cake was not only for you, you were supposed to share it with all of us! What kind of person eats a whole cake? I would have baked you your favorite strawberry short bread, if you had behaved well. But after bouncing Mokona who is not a bunny, you do not deserve my cake. And stop calling her debu, it's not polite and it is not true, she is not fat, she is naturally round." Who would have thought the day would come that he would be defending Mokona of all people? He touched the sleeve of the wave crest kimono horrified: "And look at what you have done to my favorite blue kimono! It is covered in chocolate ganache! That was a hundred percent silk you oaf, it will never come off! There may still be a chance to salvage it, if we flush it with soda water and use an organic stain rub right now…"

L scoffed: "I don't know why you are so obsessed with clothes. All I ever need is a pair of jeans and a white long sleeve t-shirt."

"Well I don't own any of those and since you have ruined your own clothes last time, ripping them off to shreds like some maniac while you two were going at each other's throats, you have to make do with mine. It's not like we can get out and shop for new clothes. Besides, we've been over this, you don't really need sugar and your presence here could trigger another episode…"

Light scoffed: "Your favorite strawberry short cake? Sharing each other's clothes after tearing the other ones to shreds? Well, aren't you cozy with the cross-dresser? I didn't know you were a regular in places like this, Lawliet. Though I should have suspected it, there were plenty of telling signs."

Then it hit him, he did know L's true name, Rem had written it in her Death Note and the man had passed from a heart attack. Or so he had thought. There was something terribly wrong with all this, and for what little he could surmise of the setup, the freak in the red kimono was in cahoots with the freak in the blue kimono.

He drew out his gun: "I don't know what is happening here, but I want answers and I want them now!"

"Oh Detective, please put away that gun, it won't do you any good here. And you might as well forget about trying to use the Death Note, it won't work here either. Nothing can come out of using a weapon in a place like this. You'll just reset the cycle..."

Light smiled with a tad of hysteria in his face: "On the contrary I think a whole lot can come out from this gun." Just to prove his point he fired one shot at a tree and was satisfied with the result: "Now, if you don't want what happened to that tree to happen to you, you are going to start answering my questions right now."

L sniggered: "That won't work 'ere."

Light growled: "Want to bet?"

"Deal, if that gun helps you get what you want, I'll be your slave, mate. If it doesn't, then you will shut your pie hole and listen to what we need to tell you."

"Aho ka? Is that your idea of a joke? I have the gun and the Death Note. I'm the one in control here!"

L denied: "No you are not. Nobody 'ere controls bollocks. I thought he did at first," He said signaling Watanuki with a bob of his head: "But the black bunny owns him and even that ball o' fat is imprisoned 'ere. I'd thought you'd have figure it out already by now, you used to be smarter, mate."

"What's with the accent?"

"I'm one quarter English and was raised in England, dumbarse: This is how I normally talk. I'm fluent in several languages and I usually adapt my accent to my interlocutor in order to make it easier to interact with me. A neuter accent helps them take me in better. I have enough eccentricities that it can be hard for most people to take me whole."

"Is that some kind of innuendo?"

"Take your mind out of the gutter. If I'd wanted to shag you, I had plenty of chances while I had you chained. Don't think I didn't notice the hopeful eyes… I'm not that interested in sex, it detracts from your ability to focus on important things. But I'm not completely opposed to it. At times it can help you relax. Is that what it takes for you to listen to us? The brain is the biggest sexual organ, maybe shagging with someone who has one for a change will help you finally unclench. I don't mind either gender. I prefer tops, though. Want me to unclog ye ol' pipe work? Come 'ere, luv, give us a snog."

"Don't come closer! And stop talking like that, it is very disturbing."

"Toning down the accent helped keep the sheep quiet and it also helped conceal my identity. But I don't see any need for pretense anymore. The cat is out of Schrödinger's bag, Light Yagami, Lord Kira or whatever the heck you are calling yourself nowadays. And by the cat who is halfway to nowhere, I hope you know I mean you, mate."

"Don't test me, Lawliet… I will kill you. And I'll make sure it is for real this time."

L laughed: "Been there, done that, didn't stick. My mates got you, didn't stick either. We have killed each other every which way about a hundred times since you came, but nothing sticks here, mate. Get on with the program." He snapped his index and thumb in the same bizarre way he picked up things.

"The hell is that supposed to mean?"

"Figure it out, if you think you are so smart, I did after the first ten times, arsehole."

"You are the bakayarou!"

Watanuki exhaled frustrated: "You two are worse than preschoolers, name-calling, wagers, mind games, death treats... And that is only in the last three minutes! Have you managed to learn nothing from your lives?!"

Light cocked the gun and brandished it menacingly: "Enough with this nonsense. I'll kill your little koibito in the red kimono first, if you don't give me what I want."

Lawliet's little koibito? That was it. Watanuki had had it! His eyes shone dangerously, his opaque green eye turned golden. A circle of fiery symbols appeared as a halo behind his head. He grabbed the gun with his hand and spoke in a voice several degrees colder than glacial: "And exactly what is it that you want, Detective? Just be very careful what you wish for here, because every deal is binding and final. Do you remember what it was that you wanted or have you forgotten it along with everything else?"

Light frowned, it had been so clear just one instant before, now his mind was scrambled, he blinked: "I… What have you done to me? Was there something in the tea?" He started to feel dizzy. The world broke in shards of light and color like the insides of a kaleidoscope. His head started to spin and Light blacked out.

Watanuki felt like crying. Instead he punched the wall and only managed to hurt his knuckles: "This is useless, he almost had it and now he has lost it, again!"

L sniggered: "He is stubborn. That one is..."

"You are no price either, and you didn't get it after ten times, try ten thousand and you'll be closer to the truth. Plus you wouldn't even be here, if you hadn't gone behind the NPA's backs and tested the Death Note on that death row inmate. You had to see it to believe it…Was your curiosity worth it, Lawliet?"

He didn't answer.

"Yes, I didn't think so. Help me carry him inside, this time we'll try starting in the bedroom, the guy is obsessed with that place, we might as well get it right out of the way… Perhaps then he will be willing to listen, really listen someone besides the voices inside his head. And, kindly, if you do want to help, don't come out until I tell you. Your presence turns him antagonistic. It would also help if you stop trying to rattle his cage, all you manage to do is spook him and that leads nowhere. Though Buddha knows that if anyone needs to unclench is this man… Now get out of my blue kimono, I'm going to try to take the chocolate spot out of it. First I have to scrape the chocolate residue off. No, don't lick it! Who the hell raised you? Wolves?"

"Actually, I'm the product of a eugenics program to develop the perfect sleuth and I was raised under controlled environmental conditions and cognitive programming, mainly conductism and some gestalt, to warrant that I..."

What was it with these guys that could push the right buttons to make Watanuki lose it? He had grown so much since he started working with Yukō but these guys made him feel like an awkward schoolboy with low self-esteem. He needed to regain his composure.

"Quiet! We are going to meditate in silence until he wakes up again. Om Mani Padme Hum. Om Mani Padme Hum."

"A mantra is not silence and that mantra in particular invokes the Buddha's compassion. It is supposed to work in writing too, so if you really want silence then perhaps you should..."

Watanuki shoved a handful of snap cookies in the man's mouth. Silence, blessed silence… Almost… but the sound of molars crunching cookies was one he could live with. In fact, he would bake another batch while they waited for the Detective to reset. Cooking and baking calmed him. He was used to be around gluttons, though not quite like this one. This one went through sweets and life as if were going out of style. Such hunger was hard to keep up with. He wouldn't be able to manage if he hadn't done Alice's Red Queen race before.

Again he thought of Dōmeki and Yūko with a pang of longing. He pushed it away, he had work to do if they were ever going to escape the time loop. While they laid the Detective in his futon and all while he cleaned his favorite blue kimono and baked, Watanuki kept invoking the aid of Chenrezig the bodhisattva of compassion inside his head.