CONGRATULATIONS!
This chapter is dedicated to: Fallan Phantem and tenouharuka101
(You should have guessed guilt, Katybear.)
Guilt \'gilt\ N 1: the fact of having committed a breach of conduct esp. violating the law and involving a penalty; broadly: guilty conduct 2 a: the state of one who has committed an offense esp. conspicuously b: feelings of culpability esp. from imagined offenses or from a sense of inadequacy: self-reproach 3: a feeling of culpability for offenses
You don't answer, and it doesn't appear you are going to. I wonder what is going through your head. Has my response increased my guilt in your eyes?
I don't understand how you can find fault with my reasoning: you really are a pervert, even if unintentionally.
Voyeurism, Ryuzaki. You placed cameras in every room of my house, watched my family's every move. You keep a diligent eye on Misa. You insist on standing outside the shower door as I wash myself (though I do admit it would be impossible for you to do otherwise, chained to me as you are).
But Ryuzaki—you are chained to another man. No matter how necessary to prove my innocence, it's disturbing. And what, after all, is the meaning of perverse? Improper, unreasonable, and unaccepted. It describes you perfectly.
Your face is expressionless as you change your clothing. You replace your white long-sleeved t-shirt with a new one. It is your uniform. I wonder sometimes if you simply can't be bothered with choosing something to wear—if, like sleeping, it takes time out of your precious day. If you dressed in different clothing, I wouldn't recognize you.
"Come, Yagami-kun," you say in your offhand tone. You purposely make your voice sound disinterested and distracted, but it never fools me.
I follow you into the other room, ready for another long day of searching and hacking. You place one foot on the swivel chair in front of your computer, and then sink into your customary sitting position. I've never seen your rear make contact with the seat of that chair.
Within a few minutes, with no further exchange of words, you are deeply absorbed in the information of your computer screen, and my fingers are flying across the keys of my keyboard as I compare several invoices of a company that stands to benefit from the recent Kira killings.
I know you are watching me, as usual, from the corner of your eye.
And as usual, I am thinking, even as I devote much of my attention to my work.
I need answers. How can I begin to understand your thought processes if I'm not sure of my own?
I rewind my memory to yesterday, to the moment when Misa left. I had the chocolate in my hand, and you saw it. Your love for all things sweet is nothing new. While such an extreme reaction was totally inappropriate (perverse), I should have known it was the chocolate you were after.
But that didn't occur to me at first, so I must ask myself: what did I think you were after, and why did I think that?
This requires objectivity. If I let my personal opinions influence me, I know I will never figure this out.
I recall that image of you right before you tackled me. The hungry look in your eyes.
And suddenly it is obvious that I assumed you were hungry for me.
It is just as obvious that I wanted you to be.
But why? Why, when you were on top of me, just barely touching me, did I crave even more contact?
I've been over this once before, but I realize my reasons then were rationalizations. I'm behaving just like you now—focusing on what I want to be true, rather than what is.
Unacceptable.
Ineffably, you didn't intend to arouse me—and yes, I was aroused. This is evident in your lack of contact as you reached for the chocolate above my head. You merely wanted me under your power, wanted the chocolate so badly that you wouldn't take no for an answer. You pinned me down so that I couldn't possibly keep it from you.
It makes sense that you would resort to such measures, because I know I would not have given it to you…and you must have known that as well.
Good. Moving on.
The dreams: what on earth prompted them?
The chocolate incident, of course.
Dreams are the subconscious, working out the problems of the mind. The chocolate incident confused me, so my mind felt the need to explore that confusion through the dreams. This is proven by the wide range of interactions between us. Friendship, death, love, and sex. My mind explored different situations in an effort to come to terms with the situation.
So I know that it meant nothing, nothing at all.
But do you?
Because I was aroused in my dream, I was also physically aroused. It is unlikely that you knew you were the reason, so I don't need to worry about that.
What I do need to worry about is that last image as I masturbated, of your hands on me.
The explanation is simple. I recalled the dream, the reason for my arousal in the first place, and the memories themselves caused the pleasurable sensation. I simulated the feeling in the dream and that just happened to involve you.
It's settled. Except for one thing: my final transgression, that immature insult to you. Calling you names like a child—what the hell was I thinking? Such a loss of control on my part is intolerable.
I can shove it aside as a common tantrum—perfectly understandable, as I was confused. I was just lashing out, pushing you away because I didn't understand my own behavior.
You are hard to deal with sometimes. I just needed time on my own to think, without your oppressive interrogating. Now that I have had that time, I realize that the insult was uncalled for, even if it may be true.
I'm sorry. I want to say it out loud, but of course I can't, because you don't know precisely what I'm sorry for. I regret allowing my mind to stray from this case. I regret even questioning myself—if I do that, then what use am I to you and this investigation?
I clear my throat. My father raised me with morals, and I know when to admit that I was wrong. "Ryuzaki, I…"
I am interrupted by the buzz of the door that indicates someone is entering. I look to the surveillance monitors and see that the other members of the task force have arrived.
You turn to me, questioning. Somehow I can't bring myself to say anything more when I know we will have company in a short time.
"It's about time they got here," I snort.
I ignore your stare and turn to greet my father as he opens the door.
Guessing Game Results
Most Popular: Guess (3, given by StarRuby, Yeyana Valentine, and Katybear) and Game (3, given by StarRuby, forbiddenlover, and crazed yaoi fangirl)
My Favorite: Gay (1, given by Daniela Lynx)
Winning word: Guilt (2, given by Fallan Phantem and tenouharuka101)
Thanks for playing! You two winners are allowed to continue guessing, since there's no limit to how many times you can win! (Heh, did I just sound like one of those ring-toss guys at the carnival or what?) Again, congratulations.
Hint for H: L is still a bit mad at Light.
Review, pretty please with a cherry on top? Still not convinced? Okay, how about with an L on top? Now how can you resist? I bet you Light would be pretty pleased with an L on top…
