4
Now that Light had returned from his shower, L. had apparently decided that the time for "sleep" was over. His hands flew over an ergonomically designed keyboard with arched fingers as if the keys burned him. Light followed suit at his own terminal, amazed that only minutes ago he was trying as hard as L. to deduce the identity of the elusive Kira, straining to uncover revealing missteps in the infamous murderer's bewildering moves.
Though nothing in his carefully controlled body language betrayed any change, some vast portions of Light's mind were now reeling at the thought that a single shred of paper could change so much. In a world where fate was spelled out in ink and life could be paid for (or stolen), could there be such a thing as chance? What were the odds that he had failed to notice the spring-loaded mechanism in his watch until he was alone enough to find out what it concealed? And now his reprieve of innocence was over and all the memories of Kira, lying inaccessible inside his brain or perhaps enmeshed within the deathly pages themselves, had come flooding back...
"You know," L. noted dully, interrupting this latest machination, "It's probably not as useful as most people think to shower so regularly. For example, I observe that Yagami-kun possesses the same characteristic scent whether or not he has showered recently."
Light took a moment to reflect upon this unusual observation, at first feeling taken aback and then, when a prickle of annoyance had bristled in his heart, inexplicably furious.
« Now he makes comments about the way I smell? How ████ing hypocritical of him. I should just grab a bottle of that ¥14,000 cologne and-- »
But the rational side of his brain intervened, and he sounded merely uncomfortable as he replied.
"R-Ryuzaki...? You notice all of the strange things, don't you...?"
"I notice everything, whenever it is possible." L. responded automatically. And he glanced at Light as if his response was unusual and Light wondered what L. could possibly be thinking. The idiot.
"I...see."
Light laughed awkwardly, bile burning the inside of his throat as his veins flooded with impotent anger. How had he survived these past few weeks? How had he--he consulted his memories incredulously as if they had been forged--managed to be friendly with such a maddening creature? As he recalled with loathsome certainty, there had been no trickery in his motives--he hadn't been trying to manipulate L. at all. Their friendship had been...sincere.
Sure, there was no denying that they had much in common, but anyone could see that neither one could stand the thought of an equal, let alone the threat of a superior, and so one of them would ultimately have to permanently deal with the other. Somehow, he had forgotten that (he had forgotten a lot of things), but the risk of his own life now cleared his judgment while simultaneously intensifying his feeling of loathing. Light coughed, and L. looked over at him in order to scrutinize him.
"I did not say that one's scent was anything unpleasant." he clarified, apparently coming to some correct conclusions about what Light was feeling. "I have noticed that many people possess a characteristic scent which, (for example) in the event that I am blinded for any length of time, I could utilize to my advantage."
« So this is some perverse form of small talk for him, is it? » It was almost intolerable to sit there quietly.
"It seemed to become relevant when you mentioned showering, is all." Light fought the instinct to curl his hands into fists.
"Ah...okay" he responded, lacing his words with what he predicted was polite interest.
L. was in a quandary now. He was absolutely certain that Light was Kira. What he was not absolutely certain about was exactly when it became part of the plan to talk about that particular scent which sort of clung to Light wherever he went. Of course, it was intriguing enough to merit a private investigation (he grinned internally at that particular choice of words), and he had taken the time to discreetly compare various girl's scents to Lights in order to confirm that none of them was the source of it. It had even spawned a subsequent study of various other people and their characteristic scents, and a patent for the gaussian-invariant olfactometer he had invented to streamline the process--but why mention it to anyone (especially Light) simply because it had been idling in the back of his mind? It was surely because he was trying to make Light crack under pressure...but that was a previously failed method, wasn't it? There was supposed to be some new angle to it at some point?
Hmmm...
There was just something distractingly unforgettable about that perpetual essence. Whether it was some exotic cologne or whether Light's own skin had created it, the dark flavor matched Light's personality exactly. It smelled of danger--the fear which kept L. working from the sidelines, even more than his self-appointed job required--but entwined with that danger was all of Light's charisma and brilliance, the lure which drew L. into the most perfect, most challenging game of his life. It was an absolutely deadly and absolutely unassailable presence which coaxed and teased him out of his reclusive darkness and into the light. Every waking moment, L. watched his life slip inevitably further into the blinding scrutiny of the enemy, and it was all he could do to select which secrets--which pieces of privacy--he would let go of next.
