A/N I'm rushing this stuff out because I go back to uni in a week and will have no opportunity to write anything then. Let's see if I can finish it in a week (this will never happen). This one is particularly heavy in swearwords and I'm sorry if that offends anyone. I would suggest that you avoid this entire fic if that's the case. I couldn't really get around it because that's the nature of Matt's game. It's Matt's fault.

Chapter Three

I Am Not Here, I'm Just A Silhouette You Will Never, Ever Forget

I'm on page seven of The Star. I should start a scrapbook.

Apart from that, today could not have been any less eventful. A few of us have been invited to a concert (classical - I should have brought a travel pillow with me) by a virtuoso violinist who I met at a party a few weeks ago. Well, I was invited, but she offered a extra tickets for some of my 'friends' as an afterthought since they were sitting there too. She made it very obvious to Mikami, Touta, and I - since she's one of those sexually open bohemian types - that she wants me in her bed and thinks that once I see her play the violin then I'll be in there with a sock on my cock. I don't know if I will. I haven't decided what to do about it yet. Sitting here in the restaurant beforehand, it seems like a complete waste of time.

Something which has more lingering excitement is that I've been invited onto a late night politics programme, which will coincide perfectly with the announcement that I'm running for Education. Usually the Cabinet send some sacrificial lamb either to prove themselves or to deflect attention from the people who are actually responsible for something unpopular. It can get quite nasty sometimes. Many a politician at the start of their career has died on that show, figuratively speaking.

"So where's this piece then?" Jeevas asks. He's tagged along. Bought his own ticket. I had some spare ones but I donated them to a charity raffle. I wouldn't have given one to him anyway.

"You can't refer to a woman as a 'piece'. That's chauvinistic and disrespectful," I correct him, sipping my wine afterwards. I've noticed that leaders tend to have a glass of water after answering a question well, so I'm practicing. "She's the lead violinist. Her violin is probably worth more than your apartment."

"Nyyyyeaaahh. Hey, let's play Fuck, Marry, Avoid!"

"Isn't it 'Kiss, Marry, Avoid'?" Touta says, awkwardly. Sayu is here as the sole female. I decided a while ago to let Touta be in charge of protecting her from the world, because I can't be bothered anymore. Personally, I think that she should be exposed to as much hideousness as possible so she can see the world as it currently stands, and then see it change. It's not all Hello Kitty, manicures, and pretty dresses. I know that she won't be corrupted, she'll be as disgusted as I am. Same blood and all that. As it happens, she's sitting at the same table as Jeevas, so she's exposed to hideousness incarnate.

"Kiss, fuck - same thing," Jeevas explains. "Ok, Sayu, you go first."

"Oh! Erm..."

"Don't be shy, let's go around the table. We're all friends here."

No, I can't do it. "Let's not bring my sister into this barrel of shit, shall we?"

"I don't mind, Light," Sayu protests. "I just have to think about it." This pleases Jeevas, who bounces round in his chair until he's facing her.

"Cool. Right. Me first. Would you fuck me?"

"Watch out, Lawliet's about," Mikami mutters into his hand. "Nobody let on and maybe -"

"L!" I shout and raise my arm like I'm desperate answer a question. An actual semi-intelligent person! As rare as finding a penguin in the Serengeti. He sees me and makes his way over to our table with Mihael trailing behind him.

"Oh, hello," he says cooly. "I didn't expect to see you all here."

"Sit down," I tell him, stealing a chair from the next table.

"I can't. I'm with Watari."

"Huh?"

"Work-based dinner and then an evening with The Lady at this classical nonsense concert." Why does he never mention these things?

"Where are they now?" I ask.

"We're meeting her there. We have a box -"

"Oooooh, a box at the opera house! Fancy," Jeevas says snidely and grabs the bottle of white while L glares at him and continues.

"But Watari's in the bathroom and may be some time. He has prostate trouble. We've heard all about it, haven't we, Mihael? It's like pissing glass, apparently."

"Nice," I reply. "Well if he's going to be pissing glass for a while then sit the fuck down and bring your boy."

He sighs. "Mihael, here are some awful people I don't really want you to meet."

"Hey." Mihael holds an limp hand up in greeting as his blond hair drips over his face. He's bored by us and this whole experience as L introduces us.

"This is Jeevas from Foreign, Mikami from Health, Light you've met, Matsuda from Health, and..." he pauses at Sayu. "I don't know who you are, I'm sorry. Are you awful too?"

"No. I'm Sayu."

"Sayu's my sister," I tell him. He nods in understanding.

"I should have noticed the resemblance but you look nothing alike. Pleased to meet you."

"Sayu's my wife," Touta says proudly, and Sayu snuggles up inside the crook of his arm which hangs off the back of her chair, infinitely pleased still to be defined as being other people's possessions.

"Here," Jeevas says, stealing another chair for Mihael. I wonder if the person at that table had company? Oh well. "Put your arses on those. We're playing Fuck, Marry, Avoid."

L takes a seat. "Oh. That's a strange game for such an elitist restaurant."

"Jeevas is playing it," Mikami explains defensively.

"Yagami is going to fuck, marry or avoid some violinist who's after him. He's inspired us," Jeevas chirps. He's out of his skull tonight. "Of course, she hasn't met me yet. I'll make it my mission in life to steal her away."

"Lucky Yagami. His milkshake brings all the girls to the yard," L says, eyebrows raised.

"Actually, you're perfect because you give this a homosexual spin and we can learn how we need to change so we can appeal to the minorities. Oh, and it means that the rest of us can be more inclusive in our choices. No holes barred. You start and we'll go around the table."

"So I turn up and bring the gay?" L asks. "I'll pass, thanks. I hardly think that that's interesting, enlightening or necessary, but you go ahead. I'm interested to hear Yagami's opinions, obviously; the man's an enigma. But will he answer truthfully?"

"Go on," Mihael says, nudging L. What the hell with the overfamiliarity? Bastard should know his place.

"Oh God. I went to law school for this? Ok, Mihael, don't be scared, but I think that I'd marry you. Avoid. I'm sorry, Sayu but your gender repulses me. Matsuda, I'm not sure what fucking what be involved with you, if any, but I'd give it a shot. Jeevas, avoid. Mikami, fuck and then avoid. Yagami, fuck. Incessantly. There you go." God, that's making it a bit obvious.

Jeevas can't quite get his head around something. "You'd avoid me?"

"Yes. I've met you, you see."

Mikami smacks me firmly on the back. "Yagami, your turn."

"I'm not sure if I want to hear this," Sayu muses. I hold my glass out for Jeevas to reluctantly pour me some wine, since he's hogging the bottle. I'd avoid everyone, to be honest, but I give everyone a brief glance and imagine myself in a post-apocalyptic rebuilding humanity scenario in which men could breed.

"Come on now, Sayu, you're a big girl now. Mihael, I don't know you, but fuck, possibly. Sayu, that would be incest. Tou -"

"Yes, but would you?"

"Shut up, Jeevas. Touta, marry. Jeevas, avoid. Mikami, marry."

"Oh, Yagami! Thanks. I appreciate it, my friend," Mikami smiles. We share a bromance moment.

"You're welcome."

"And what about me?" L asks.

"Fuck." I admit it. I'm guilty. Hang me. L grins from the might of the entertainment.

"I'd feel honoured, but you seem to be willing to fuck or marry everyone here apart from Jeevas and your sister."

"I'm not discriminatory. It would all be dependant on me being completely ratarsed anyway."

"And we all know what happens when you get ratarsed," Jeevas says. "Miki, your go."

"Mihael, fuck. Sayu, fuck."

"Hey!" Touta objects while Sayu wiggles in her seat.

"It's a game, dude," Mikami explains before pointing his finger at him. "And you, Matsuda, I would fuck and make you cry while I'm at it. Jeevas, I would S&M your arse. You deserve it. You'd be nothing but a pile of steaming, quivering shit. Yagami, marry."

"Thank you, Mikami," I say. We share another bromance moment. All is forgotten.

"You're welcome. And, Lawliet. Fuck, I guess. I don't know. I'm a bit frightened of you."

"That's a completely normal reaction but you wouldn't regret it," L tells him. Jeevas carpe diems.

"My go! Sayu, fuck. Touta, fuck. Mikami, fuck, Mihael, fuck, Lawliet -"

"Jeevas, stop."

"Ok, ok. Yeah, I'd fuck everyone, even Yagami. You know me. That was easy. Matsuda?"

"Erm. I'd avoid everyone apart from my wife. Sorry." He pecks her on the cheek.

"Oh, Matsuda. You poor, sweet boy," Mikami says with a healthy dose of pity while Sayu coos at her husband.

"I'd avoid everyone too, apart from Touta."

"Mihael?"

"I'd probably fuck everyone as well, I guess," he says with a hint of shame at his better nature.

"Well, aren't we generous?" Jeevas exhales. "That wasn't any fun at all. Maybe we should put it into action. We've got an hour before Vivaldi."

"How has your day been, Yagami?" L asks.

"I've been working on my backhand."

"Excellent. I look forward to seeing it."

Jeevas looks between the two of us. "What are you talking about?"

"Tennis," we say in unison.

"And how's your day been?" I ask L.

"Work has been draining and The Lady gave me a record. I don't own a record player, so this could be a problem. And I've been working on my serve."

"Your serve? I wouldn't say that it needs any work, but then, I'm easily pleased. You can use my record player if you want. I have a complete Bose system," I say proudly. Mihael seems unable to hold back and comes out of his shell.

"Bose are for show-off idiots who need to be told who the best are. They're overpriced and overrated. Everyone who knows knows that 70s sound systems are by far the best when combined with decent speakers." He tells us this as if we're vaguely interested, and in a tone reserved for a class of children who all failed their tests.

L shrugs. "Nevertheless, I might take you up on that. Thank you, Yagami."

"What's the record she's leant you?"

"'Man of Mystery' by The Shadows. I don't know either. It's her favourite song, apparently."

"Let's youtube it the fuck up," Jeevas says, grabbing his phone. "Sha...dows. Christ, it's hard being bilingual. Here we go. Rack it up."

He places his phone on the table and we all crowd around the tiny screen to see three men in terrible trousers, dancing from side to side with their guitars. After a minute, we realise that it's an instrumental.

"God, it's a bit shit, isn't it?"

L nods sadly. "Well, she is of that generation, I suppose."

"I'm losing respect for her," Jeevas says, turning it off.

"It makes me feel tired." Mihael admits.

"I know what you mean. Tired and depressed."

I take my jacket off, which seems to steal L's attention and he begins to question me.

"So, tell us more about this violinist who wants to sleep with you."

"Met her at a bar," I sigh with boredom as I sit back down. "She gave me tickets and I thought that I'd share them around." Truthfully, all these bastards desperately need a bit of culture. I'm simply confronting my debt to society.

"How thoughtful of you," he mutters. "Shame that you didn't ask me if I wanted a ticket."

"You're going, anyway."

"But you didn't know that. Just saying, it would have been nice to have been asked."

"Light needs a nice girlfriend for once. He keeps picking idiots." Sayu obviously hasn't connected Jeevas with Misa and it's clear that she hasn't read the papers, she's just gone on what people have told her.

"Misa wasn't an idiot exactly," I say quietly.

"Yes she was. You just felt sorry for her."

"Yagami, you shouldn't sell yourself short by seeing idiots," L advises me. "It's very wasteful."

Mikami rubs his nose with the palm of his hand in irritation. "I keep telling him that he would make an excellent wife for someone. If I was that way inclined, Yagami, Shiori would be out the door and I'd move you into my house to sew buttons on all my coats." I laugh at him, which seems to surprise everyone.

"What's all this about buttons?" L asks.

"Private joke," Mikami says, smiling over the rim of his wine glass at me.

"Let's play Find Yagami a Wife!" Jeevas shouts. His hair is sticking to his forehead and looks like someone who has overdosed twice but refuses to die out of sheer boneheadedness.

"Let's not," I answer, but Sayu is equally excited by the prospect, although she has good intentions, unlike Jeevas.

"No, I like that game. Let me find you someone, Light. Hey, Touta, what about Megumi? What do you think?"

"Megumi? Oh, I don't know. Doesn't she have a bat sanctuary?"

"Light likes bats!"

"I'm not being set up with one of your friends, Sayu," I state firmly. "And definitely not ones with bats. Forget it. I'm not that desperate that I need to be set up by my sister."

"Ohhhh..."

"Well," L says, standing suddenly. "Mihael tells me that Watari has emerged, so I must get briefed before The Lady turns up."

"Bring him here!" Mikami demands.

"No, I don't think so, thank you. Watari doesn't strike me as the kind of person who would want to play Fuck, Marry, Avoid and Find Yagami a Wife. Good luck with the violinist, Yagami."

"Call me when you want to use my record player," I say, like it's Polari slang for something else. Which it is.

"Ooooh, what an offer. Goodnight."

We watch him walk towards Watari, who's grasping the crotch of his trousers with a painful expression on his face. Even L's back looks sympathetic as he guides him back to their table.

The violinist wasn't anywhere near as wonderful and irresistible as she thought she was. Immediately after the concert, we all pissed off back to our respective homes. When I get back to mine, L's waiting outside my apartment door, propping up the wall. I thought that he might drop by, but I didn't expect him to wait. I'm not sure why.

"I thought that you were supposed to be doing things to a violinist right now?" he mutters, not even looking up from the floor as I approach silently. I palm my keys like a kind of stress ball in my hand as he continues. "She was terrible. She played 'Winter' far too quickly and stridently. Completely emotionless. It's one thing being able to play an instrument, but it's more than just notes on a page. Definitely not girlfriend material if she can't even follow the conductor. We didn't stay for the end; The Lady thought that her dress was too revealing for playing the violin."

"You're lucky that I didn't bring anyone back. What would they think if they saw you standing outside my apartment like a stray dog?"

"That I'm stalking you, probably."

"Aren't you?" I ask. I'm not interested, really. It's fairly obvious. He follows me inside.

"No," he states, throwing himself on the sofa while I switch on some wall lamps. "Why would I do that? You're very accessible." That's true. Dimmer switch. Good.

"Hmmm... How did it go with The Lady?" I'd tried to spot the box that they were in at the concert. I think that it was the one closest to the stage, since it was shrouded in darkness even before the orchestra started screeching.

"Very well, actually. And you'll be pleased to know that I put a good word in for you."

"Really? What did you say?"

"That you were very promising and that I was impressed by what you've done in the Transport Department. I neglected to say that I sleep with you occasionally and that I'm impressed by you in that department, too."

"Well, I suppose that I should thank you."

"Yes. You should," he agrees. I realise that we're just staring at each other in silence for too long, and it's not pleasant, so I turn quickly to go into the kitchen, taking off my tie as I go.

"Whisky?" I call over, and make some drinks in the ensuing awkward, dead air. Eventually I bring in two glasses, put them on coasters on my Noguchi coffee table and take a seat opposite him. I think that investing in these chairs was a very wise decision. They just fill you with a sense of excellence.

L is almost bent over, resting his forearms on his knees and he gazes into the centre of his world, otherwise known as the tumbler of whisky I gave him. I wonder if he's using it like a crystal ball. These tumblers were very well bought as well, I think, as I look at the one I'm holding. Most of the shower in the House hire people to style their lives for them but I'm just naturally gifted. It doesn't seem fair that I should be so good at so many things when others are struggling at being good at simply existing, but they should just try harder.

"Light?" he asks, breaking my concentration. He's still looking at the glass. Maybe I should give it to him? "I don't care, obviously, but out of interest, are you seeing anyone else? Or have you? Over the last few months, I mean."

"I don't really have time, L," I say with a snort of amusement. "You take up too much of my time." I think that I might have a bath. I bought some Dead Sea salt crystals which I had imported and -

"It's just... no. It doesn't matter."

"No, it doesn't," I agree. "Let's put on that record The Lady gave you." I reach forwards for his briefcase.

"The violinist was a woman," he says suddenly. I pause mid-stretch and then fall back into the chair.

"You noticed that? Well done."

"You know what I'm thinking."

"Oh!" I exclaim with the joy of understanding. "You're wondering why I didn't take her up on her offer for the sake of variation? Well, ordinarily I might have, despite her desperation, which was a bit disgusting, really. I don't know. Why do you think I didn't?"

"I wouldn't be asking you if I had the faintest idea, would I? I don't know about these things, but she had a very low-cut dress on. I mean, they were basically out there and swinging free, so I presume that that means she'd be reasonably attractive to people who like that sort of thing."

"I'll tell you what you think but are too worried about offending me to say. You think that I'm a morally deficient, money grabbing idiot who'll fuck anything, so why didn't I? Well, as it happens, I'm actually quite discerning. I have my reasons for everything I do. I have to, or I'd be like Jeevas and all the rest of them."

"Hang on a minute, I'm confused. You say that you're discerning, but having seen Misa being interviewed, I can't understand what you saw in her."

"No, I can't either," I admit.

"There must have been some reason?"

"Erm... well, she was pretty. And she was slightly famous at the time. Kind of sweet in an annoying way at first, and clever enough to know that she wasn't clever enough for me so she just let me do what I wanted. And, yes, I know that sounds bad, but after she fucked Jeevas and fucked my door up, I'm not her greatest champion."

"But you never loved her. I don't think that you even liked her, you cast her off so easily and you're all friendly with Jeevas. You broke up with her in the morning and you were more than willing to bend over for me by one o'clock the same day. "

"That does sound bad too when you say it like that. I don't know. I was overcome by desire for you, L. What do you want me to say? I'm a man in my twenties and I think it's called sewing wild oats. I'm not going to pass up on things."

"But you did. The violinist."

"Ah, but I have you, don't I?" I smile viciously. I'm sure I can turn this around, but L's face says no.

"What's so special about me? I didn't tell you that I was going to turn up here. I wouldn't have minded if you'd gone off with her. You wouldn't even have had to tell me."

"For someone who doesn't mind, you're talking about it a hell of a lot. Is it just because she was a woman? Also, I need to point out here that she was the one who was interested, not me."

"The woman thing? Maybe. But you know, I'm a man of the world. I can cope if you like both."

"It's not a case of liking," I mumble.

"What is it then?" he asks. For God's sake. I don't like anyone.

"L, I need a wife at some point. It's irritating but it's a fact. You know that."

"Oh, for politics."

"Of course, for politics. It's all gods and goddesses, isn't it? Not lone gods or gods and gods."

"You could change it."

"Change people's opinions? Only to a certain extent. I'd have to kill them."

"Even if you don't get in power, you'd get First Secretary, easily. Think what impression that would make. You'd make it possible for someone in the future."

"I'm not in this on some crusade against bigotry for someone else to take the glory when I'm dead."

"No, you're in it for you," he says. "I know that. But sometimes I think that you might actually -"

"I can make a real difference as Prime Minister, but only as Prime Minister," I interrupt. I have to cut this the fuck down and remind him of reality. "I wouldn't be under anyone's thumb. If you want to do it then go ahead. You could be a politician. It's not like you're under-qualified."

He laughs bitterly. It makes me cross my legs.

"Are your reasons for doing things always so professionally motivated?" he asks.

"Professionally?" I repeat and drink my whisky. It doesn't burn. "Define 'professional' for me in this context."

"For your own gain."

"Ah, you mean generally? Well, yes. Isn't it the same for everyone? Don't we all only do things for ourselves? Even apparently selfless people have their reasons. Places in heaven, to be better thought of, to be able to consider themselves a kind person, so they can ease a guilt complex about watching people starving on a widescreen HD plasma TV..." I could go on, but I have to stop to drink my Nikka Yoichi twenty-year-old single malt.

"I'm not disputing that," he says, shaking his head with dismissal. "But I'm not asking about everyone, I'm asking you."

"I find it hilarious that you think I'm any different. Do you, really?"

"Yes. I know you are."

He's quite beautiful with truth sometimes. I don't think that I can look at him anymore in case I start to hate him.

"Let's put on this fucking record, eh? Let's blast out some 'Man of Mystery'," I say suddenly, jumping up to retrieve the record from his case and run over to the stereo. The room fills with some twangy cowboy stupidity as I stand over the record player, staring intently at the spinning black disc like it's my mind that's making it play. My neighbours must think that I've gone insane. Like all these old songs, it's repetitive. The fact that's it's short is the only thing that stops me from grabbing a knife and stabbing myself repeatedly in the ears. The song finishes and after a few seconds of the delicate scratching from the record, I can't help but say: "God. That really was shit, wasn't it?"

"It's not the best thing I've ever heard," L says from the sofa.

"At one point I thought it was going to do something but it just kept on doing the same thing over and over again. Let's put it on again. I can't actually get over how shit it is." I want to try and visualise The Lady this time, dancing to this in an empty room with her pearl necklaces swinging.

"Please don't. I think that I might kill myself if you do," he begs and sinks further down. His head is nearly between his knees.

"Yeah. I suppose once was enough. Do you want another drink? If not, I might go to bed."

"Just like that," L sighs again and takes a gulp of whisky.

"Well, I thought that you'd go with me."

"Yes, you're so dense that you would expect that. I was talking to you, but by all means play some records and go to bed. I'll see myself out."

"Look, I don't want to sleep with the violinist, ok? Random men, women, dogs, goats, whatever. Not going there right now. What's wrong with you tonight? You're like Misa with all this introspection into everything I say. I don't understand you. You say you don't care and suggest that I'm stupid for not banging the violinist, but then you're like this with all the mopey 'you could change the world' gay icon shit. Seriously, I'm getting whiplash from all the conflicting messages you're giving me."

"I know. I'm sorry, it's just... I don't know. You're in my head a lot." He grabs a fistful of his hair like it's tied to something that he can yank out of his brain if he pulled hard enough. I tiredly walk back and sit down opposite him again.

Now, while I don't share these fluffy feelings, I don't want him to feel humiliated and alone. It wouldn't help me in the long run. I blame all this on his taking a role as an aide to The Lady. I haven't benefited from that so far. Things were uncomplicated before. Now he's moved into the same office as me, more or less. Maybe I shouldn't have invited him to my apartment in the first place. Yes, distance is what is needed here.

"You're in mine a fair bit of the time too," I say consolingly.

"I doubt that. It's all campaigns and plans up there."

"Not as much as you'd think, actually. I plan in advance, so there's room for distractions."

"A game then. Everything's a game to you."

"You're not a game to me, L," I admit, and he looks up at me for the first time in ten minutes. He has to see me in order to judge whether I'm lying or not, and his eyes wash all over me.

I didn't mean for it to sound the way it did: all soft and tender and like it was the truth. It just came out that way because I'm tired of this conversation and L not being like himself. I make myself sick sometimes, I really do. No, he's not a game; he's my ally, isn't he? He knows that. Still, I don't like people around me to feel bad on my account, even though it's not my fault, it's theirs. It's boring, how predictable people are. No one can make you feel a certain way, you're the only one who's responsible. People are so willing to blame others for their own problems. Pathetic.

But he's still staring at me. Just when I'm about to say something else and backtrack a little bit, because I really think that I should clarify, he interrupts me.

"This table's in the fucking way," he says aggressively, and suddenly knocks it over to get to me. I love it when he's like this; he's like no one else. Like I'd let anyone else do this to me and my poor Noguchi coffee table. Only the very, very best for me. It never expected to be assaulted like that - it's a classic - but it's all for a good cause. I can always replace it.

L grabs a fistful of my hair and presses me into the chair to steal all the air from me. I let him, because it doesn't really matter what he does.

And so I experience a few days of heady wonder where everything is joy and nice weather and can I hold the door open for you it would be my absolute pleasure I have lived only to see this moment and I win every tennis match but L doesn't seem to mind and find that I'm naturally talented at golf which doesn't really surprise me and beat Jeevas and Mikami in my first ever game I'm so good in fact that I buy a set of golf clubs though I'm sorry but I'm never going to wear those argyle sweaters and then I meet Takada and Watari on the golf course on Sunday to find that they actually know my name which is excellent but I don't know why they wear pastel pink and yellow it makes them look like deformed overgrown babies of course I'd love to play a game with you but I warn you I'm not very good at it I'm just a beginner I don't even know what my handicap is offhand but we should have drinks sometime I'll put it on my tab yes L I'm actually maybe possibly and for the first time in my life but there's something missing and I must find it I can't lose it just lie down or push me against a wall and shut your mouth just stop talking I have things to do and you make me feel of course I don't mind I'm very good at this it's no problem I wouldn't do it if I didn't want to would I you know me better than that no you're not a game to me.

But, for now, we're having breakfast before work in some themed café which thinks it's in Paris. I'm pleased that I wore the right suit today. It's a sunny day, unusual for this time of year, and is perfect for a linen and wool mix when paired with an appropriate coat and scarf. I'd like to think that I look like I was painted into this setting. It's a wonderful photo opportunity, but the press are never there when you need them. L would have had to step to one side while I posed with a croissant. On behalf of the government and my country, I thoroughly approve of this café.

L is reading the morning papers and has a stack of them in front of him. I hate to read over breakfast, although I suppose that I will have to start soon. You should fully concentrate on eating, when you are eating. You should start with a glass of water first, as that prevents you from gorging or feeling hungry later in the morning. You should avoid too much acidic juices, as it disrupts the natural pH of your stomach and can cause tooth decay unless you carry a travel toothbrush with you at all times. If you concentrate on what you're doing, you can achieve anything. And at breakfast, which is the most important meal of the day, fully concentrating on what you're doing allows your brain enough time to fully register what you're doing. L doesn't do this and the distraction is unwanted to me. I feel that I should tell him all these things. It could have a positive effect on his life.

"Anything interesting?" I ask.

"Nope," he answers, looking up at me briefly. "Same old."

"Then you should eat your breakfast."

"I am," he says, picking up his coffee cup as he continues to read. I look at the broadsheet on the top of the pile, which is neatly folded. The text is small, stark, and blocky on the peach coloured paper it's printed on. Suddenly, I don't see characters - I see the spaces between them, and it forms images, like seeing animals and things in clouds. I blink, keeping my eyes shut for a moment, and when I open them again, it was like it never happened at all. I smile but it feels tight on my face.

"What are you doing today?"

"The firm need me to come in to discuss a settlement agreement," he groans. "Then back to have a meeting later with Takada maybe, but not much besides that. Something may turn up. It normally does. What about you?"

"I'll have to check my diary." Which I won't do until after breakfast and reading the papers. I have my routine and he's ruining it. I know what I'm doing today but I have to check my diary first. He doesn't comment, which annoys me, so I make something up on the spot. "Might go to the gym before I head into the office."

"Don't. We could play tennis later. Two o'clock?"

"Can't. I'm making a speech in the House today."

"I thought you said that you had to check your diary?" he says, smiling a few seconds afterwards to mask his suspicion. "You didn't tell me that you had a speech today."

"I was distracted," I smile back at him. It's all about the smiling today. "It's nothing. One of my constituents recently lost a court case for right to die. I thought that I'd comment on it and lend my support."

He glances at me - just big black eyes sitting behind the paper he's holding. Sometimes he reminds me of when I hear a song at a particular moment, maybe in the early morning when I'm lying in bed with my headphones on and the sunlight is fighting through my window. It's just some little coda I ignore all the rest of the time, but in that moment it feels like it was written just for me.

"I know the case," he says, putting down the paper to picks up another, pausing for a moment while he scans the front page. After apparently losing interest in such a cheap, nasty gossip rag, he puts it face down on the table as an example to the others. "My firm were counsel to the state."

"You were in opposition?"

"Not me, personally, but I've sat in on some of those cases before. It could be implemented one day. The right case just has to come forward. Don't look at me like that, Light. Both sides require advice to put forward a coherent case. It's just my job."

"So your opinions don't come into it? You'll argue for whoever pays you."

"Yes," he says bluntly, and his eyes flicker up to see what effect his mercenary nature has on me. "I have no personal opinions in court and I make no apologies for it. I'm only here to put forward the best case I can for justice's sake. If I happen to be representing the wrong side and I win, then I still won. If you're upset about this particular case, then I'm sorry, but High Courts are there to adapt and develop common law in order to keep up with the requirements of justice in a changing society. Major changes involving matters of social policy of that nature are for the government, and you lot are far too frightened of approving of something so controversial at the moment. I suppose that's your business, or it will be in a few years. Regardless, euthanasia is a risky topic to associate yourself with. Are you sure you should?"

"There's a petition with over seven hundred thousand signatures, so I'm going to present it to the House. If it has that kind of public support, I should be seen to take notice of it. I'll be non-committal, don't worry. I'm just representing my public."

"Your public?" he repeats, and then clears his throat. "But at this level, it's not your area, is it? So, you're going to the gym before euthanasia and all before midday. By that time I'll probably just be getting around to having my morning shower."

He picks up another paper and opens it wide like wings, and I hold my croissant in mid-air, my mouth hanging open for a second. "You're taking the day off now?" I ask.

"Yes, I've just decided."

"Oh. Maybe we could meet up later then?"

"I don't know. We'll have to see how the day pans out. Keep your diary free," he tells me as he continues to read. Papers should never take precedence over me. I have never played second fiddle to a newspaper at breakfast, so this infuriates me, but for some reason I can't bring myself to say a damn thing about it. I pour some of my coffee down my throat to ease down the lump of pastry which feels like it's lodged in my chest.

I'm showing too much concern. What I say next must be deflected somehow, or else not say anything at all. My words point to interest but my actions point towards it lying with the flakes of chocolate on my empty plate. I press them into the pads of my fingers, like squashing flies, and place them on my tongue.

"Are you alright? You seem a bit different today," I mutter, keeping my voice low.

"I'm fine. Or at least I was, until you drove a steam roller through my life," he says, just like it's a fact told cheerfully but with a calm, straight face as he turns a page. The combination of words fighting against mannerisms makes me laugh.

"Ha! I didn't mean to," I reply.

"I didn't mean to let you," he admits with equal calm to his previous statement.

"Oh, are you serious? I thought you were joking. What's wrong?"

"Nothing. I normally reflect on things at this time of the morning, and you just happen to be here."

"So I can catch this show every day if I wanted to? Wow. I've never been compared to a steam roller before. I wonder what tomorrow will bring?" I feel lifted somehow. "Maybe tennis this afternoon then when I've finished?" I suggest. "Call me if you're free. Oh shit, no. Sorry, I can't. I promised Mikami that we'd try the new squash court."

"Somehow I don't think that that's going to happen," he tells me, putting down the barely read paper

"Why?"

"Because Mikami will have other things to worry about this afternoon."

"What do you mean?" I ask. He pushes the overturned paper towards me and turns it over for the big reveal. The headline was a fuzzy, long lens photo of Mikami inhaling coke off a table top. I can't take my eyes from it. It's glorious. "L, tell me that you didn't do this."

"It's time for you to move to Education."

It's no surprise to anyone when Mikami is pushed out of office and hastily shuttled off to a rehab centre to avoid prosecution. I had to be careful not to be seen with him, but publicly stated that I admired his 'courage to confront his problems and that he should be given all of our support'.

I was on the panel on TV and did spectacularly well. My arguments were concise, considered, and realistic. I was also asked about Mikami, as this took place just after his resignation, and refused to comment, apart from to say that I did not condone drug use and that it is a social problem which must be tackled. Then I wrote an article for The Japan Times which did very well for me. The first line of the article was chosen as the headline, though I would have preferred something a little less sentimental to head the piece. As it happens, it spoke to the nation of personal loyalty, and spread across social networking sites like a fire.

"First and foremost, Teru Mikami is my friend."

This was followed with a few weeks of some selfless acts of campaigning masquerading as kindness, including visiting children's hospital wards and schools, being invited back to my old university to be shown around the new lecture theatre, 'secretly' donating some money my grandfather left me to a new cancer research facility, campaigning for and saving a library service which the local government was trying to shut down, saving a dog from being put down (Sayu and Touta have it but I walk it some mornings when the paparazzi are about), and opening a retirement home, which everyone else declined to do. An old woman took quite a shine to me and kept groping my arse as we had our photos taken. I was quite scared for a moment there.

All these things combined make me a permanent fixture in the papers as a force for good. I cheer people up over their cornflakes across the demographics. I'm not old enough to make me unappealing to the young, which is important. I might be the first politician for years, possibly ever, whose photo is lovingly scissored from the newspaper and stuck inside schoolgirls' lockers. They can't vote, but they have influence over their parents, and it's good to encourage the youth to have an interest in politics. I hardly have to say a word since my actions speak for themselves. I'm keeping my words in reserve.

I am a good man. There are not many of us about.

Did I win the seat for Education? Of course I did.

Disclaimer like whoa!

Must point out that I actually really like 'Man of Mystery' and it pained me to diss it, so don't hate me. I particularly love the cover version Muse used to do sometimes on tours.

And the punctuationless section just happened. I read a poem the other day called "Punctuation Less" and it must have just been in my head. I really like that section, but I feel like I should mention it because I'm sure some people will be all 'WOT IS THAT SHIZZLE IS YOUR KEYBOARD BROKEN?' It's not. My head is. Also a little bit worried that I may have stolen the idea unconsciously from wordbombs. There's something in the back of my mind saying that I have, but I can't find any emails or anything that mention it. It's very WB-ish, only she'd do it much better. Truly, everyone should have a go because it's the best fun you can have with a keyboard, apart from have a cat sit on one in front of a picture of space while you play some weird electronica. Yes, I've done that. [EDIT: Ok, it seems that I did steal it from an idea wordbombs told me about once, but she doesn't mind and I have her blessing. What a sweetie.]

I'd just like to pimp out/draw your attention to by night we go naked, by day we go blind by FreezeDryedGorgeous because it's rather wonderful.