Light Yagami was a man of excess.

Everything came in exponentially large amounts, teeming over the edges and pouring through the cracks. As a young child, he began to realize the mental capacity he held and soon after taught himself how to utilize it. He had an honest face, a good-looking one, a convincing smile and a comforting laugh. It was almost as if he had finely tuned himself whilst he was developing inside the womb for his own future endeavors. Everything about him was designed specifically to draw someone in, to comfort them even in the company of lies, and mostly to get away with whatever he could. Hence everything came in prodigious amounts. Sexual partners, money, good-fortune, friends, opportunities.

The thing was that with all this excess, all this extra, things became boring. There was nothing to aspire to. No goal to reach that required a high jump to touch, or an aspiration so far off in the distance it called for a run of endurance. He could take a step and it was as if the gold at the bottom of the seemingly never-ending rainbow would bang almost accidentally against his ankles. Almost, but not quite, Light was too finely tuned a human being to endorse the concept of an "accident". Things happened because they were meant to. A lazy, overweight man keels over and dies of heart failure. That wasn't an accident, it was inevitable. A jaywalking man is struck by a car and dies, it wasn't an accident, he should've looked left then right, else he would still be breathing. Was it jaded? Yes, it was. Was it truth? At least for Light Yagami it was.

Light Yagami was a man of excess.

He had more than any man could want, and it was still not enough. He had his looks, his mind, his articulate, well-brought-up manner, his college degree, his family. But that wasn't nearly enough. Was it greedy? Light didn't think so. It wasn't greed that drove him but the aspiration for something beyond the mundane. It was a stretching desire for something that transcended the norm and set him apart. It was what moved the race of man forward, not greed. Wanting more was the desire for industrialization and a fast-paced rate of change in a fast-paced, modernizing world. He was moving with the times, he told himself. Not greed, at least not to Light.

Light Yagami was a man of excess.

And with the topic of "excess" being thrown out so freely and used so often, it raises the question: when is "excess" going to transform into "too much"? When is it going to be simply too much? Light Yagami saw no boundaries, he never saw "too much". He saw what more there was to fix, what wrongs needed to be righted. He saw excess, but he never once saw "too much". This simple question never seemed to float across his tunnel-like vision.

But not that Light cared about any of this; in fact he didn't give a damn about any of this. At the moment, the thing that he gave a damn about was Ryuuzaki…no that came out wrong. He didn't care for Ryuuzaki in that sense, he only cared about the effect it was having on his psyche, because god knows the toll the bastard was taking on it. Light wasn't keen on admitting that something was bothering him to such magnitude, but it was time to set that aside and sort the matter out, to give himself some mental peace. He needed that peace now as he readied himself for his risky escapade.

The answer was science.

Science? That of all things?

Yes, science, an equation, simple mathematics. He wanted something that wasn't particularly easy to obtain, he wanted a game to play, something worthwhile. He wanted, in short, a puzzle. Ryuuzaki was mysterious and elusive; acting evasive whenever questioned about his past or his origins and quite clearly was not another fool that would be lured in by Light's charm. When Light invited Ryuuzaki in, tried to make him feel comfortable, Ryuuzaki remained unconvinced. When Light attempted to get what he wanted, he was rejected time and time again.

It was simple mathematics, it was logistics, it was science.

It was not emotional nor was it physical like many people would claim. It was an equation that took on the appearance of something complicated, but instead it was painfully simple. He wanted what he couldn't have, which was very little these days. Ryuuzaki was what he couldn't have. He couldn't have his photo, he couldn't have dominion over their strange not-quite-a-friend relationship, he couldn't have it all, he couldn't have excess. When it came to Ryuuzaki he had the bare minimum, and it frustrated him. So he pointed the finger at science, at logic. Not at what the average person referred to as "attraction".

Light mulled this over in his head, pacing about his bedroom and looking at the clock. The incendiary glow of his digital clock glared out at him with angry red pixels. His eyes flicked from the reddish aura of the digits to the window. He had the shades drawn shut, making sure to block out unwanted eyes and prying stares. He approached the shades and used his fingers to push the shades apart and glance out. All that was distinguishable was the darkness of extremely early morning; but based on the weather forecast the clouds had drifted back over the sun. Yesterday it had been raining, then it had cleared, and finally the clouds drifted back once more. How appropriate, Light thought with a small mental sneer. His bare toes curled with some malice against the carpet of the floor.

He donned a pair of loose-fitting boxers, pacing about at an obscene time of day. He had gone to sleep at 10 P.M. after a good two hours of turning, slept until 1:30 A.M. and then rose to the sound of the beeping of his alarm. He had to leave at 2:30 A.M.

Dressing was a somber experience executed in silence. He picked a bland grey suit to match with the weather, selecting a tie that was unremarkable as the entire ensemble. His expression mirrored his dress, somber and blank.

"No, you do not win," Ryuuzaki voiced. "You expect me to bend?"

Light recoiled slightly. "And if I do?"

"You suffer from a condition called an enlarged ego and sense of entitlement. There is only one particular treatment… that is to be injected with a dose of humility Unfortunately, I expect you to relapse, Light-kun. So I must show you humility."

"And you're the person to give me said humility?" Light said with a sneer in his tone. He retreated from his position directly atop Ryuuzaki and began to wipe his lips as if he had tasted something foul.

"Yes, yes I am."

"And what makes you assume that," Light said hotly as he got to his feet and backed away from the bed, "I would give this diagnosis any merit? Especially since you seem to suffer from the same precise ailment."

Light dug through his possessions and pulled out a video camcorder. He shoved that into his messenger bag after pulling out his bulky camera. The one-eyed black monster stared him down as he placed it on his desk. Light turned away with a grimace and continued to prepare. He roughly took out the false bottom to his drawer, a noticeable absence of his usual finesse and precision. He needed to breathe, to calm down. He couldn't afford to have his mind on Ryuuzaki; it was a time when he required a calm head and a cool sense of judgment.

He tucked the ID into the pocket of his grey suit jacket, feeling his fingers tingle with a strange sort of anticipation against the cool plastic.

"Yes, I do," Ryuuzaki confessed, fixing his unblinking eyes on Light. "I am as much of an egoist as you."

Light seemed taken aback by this sudden confession. What had prompted him to say something like that? And out of the blue, so straightforward with this reply. He could have easily denied the accusation but instead accepted it with a neutral shrug. "Therefore I am the only one to put you in your place," Ryuuzaki admonished with a tone of finality. "You think that a kiss will seal the deal for you? That I'll fall across your lap like a pathetic schoolgirl? That you will woo me like you have so many others in pursuit of your own ends? No, I'm afraid not. My answer still stands."

Light's shiny black shoes squelched and squealed with each step down the stairs. The quiet suburban house was still and lifeless as death itself. The reason being that it was nearly 2 A.M. at the moment; any normal family would be sleeping and gathering their respectable eight hour rests for the following day. Light, however, had other plans, ones which did not include a normal suburban schedule and a respectable eight hours of rest.

He was not hungry but at the same time not full. His pallet was bland as his outfit, the weather, and his mood, but he denied placing anything upon his tongue. Instead he gathered up his belongings, slung his messenger bag over his shoulder, and began recounting over the checklist in his mind. It was curiously reminiscent of his everyday schedule when he would go out to the Coffee Shop to meet his familiar not-quite-a-friend, Ryuuzaki. He felt like giving a darkly satirical smile but restrained it. With each step that brought him closer to the door, more mental unrest followed. He had never had to deal with something like that before. Never had his mind so undeniably distracted an unable to come back on course. He paused in front of the door. This was where Ryuuzaki had stormed out. That was the handle he had twisted open. That was the frame along which the door slammed back on. That was the doormat on which his ratty trainers dragged along. Those were the front steps he had shuffled down. That was the sidewalk he had trekked along.

These thoughts were trivial, unimportant. Light would be lucky if that was the last trace of Ryuuzaki he would ever see. Taking one steadying breath, clearing his mind, he then walked out the door into the darkness of the early morning, floating like the grayish shadow of what was once a vibrant person. His polished, well-dressed, and completely unremarkable self shuffled under the streetlights with his hands tucked in his pockets.

Light was sure this was the path Ryuuzaki had taken.

"Get out."

"And you brush the issue away like that?" Ryuuzaki asked, talking as if he was grateful for the words to be free from his mouth and off of his tongue.

"Get out."

"I see," Ryuuzaki frowned at Light's expression. It was one of livid anger and also a certain degree of impassive, headstrong disbelief. "So you are as childish as I thought."

"I said: get out," Light spoke as if this was the last time that he would demand this.

"I see," Ryuuzaki repeated, moving to gather up his things and disappear out the door to Light's room. The photographer listened to his footsteps, watching his hunched back turn the corner and travel down the stairs. The sound of the door was the last noise.

There was hardly anyone outside the hospital by the time the sun had decided to show its face. Sunlight was beginning to peek across the skyline, causing the asphalt and buildings to glisten as if they were something beautiful and not some horrid metal concoction of man. Posing as something beautiful, Light decided to himself. It wasn't often that he was even awake to catch the sunrise. During High School and College he had found it imperative to get enough sleep to keep his mind sharp and clear. This behavior carried over into his life after schooling, disrupted slightly by his brief stint with the NPA, but the habit not shaken off entirely.

The sunrise was beautiful, if it hadn't been as obscured by buildings and obstacles, it would have been spectacular. The way the warm orange hue of the sky reflected against the puddles left from the rainstorm was enchanting. However wasn't even half over the horizon before Light noticed the clouds that were beginning to settle across the sky, taking their place over the rising orange sphere. Small, fiercely rebellious beams of light attempted to get around the thick grey clouds that were advancing, pushed on by the cold wind. They were quickly smothered and promptly flickered out, leaving the grey atmosphere dominating again. Light was careful in how he approached the hospital. He wanted to make sure there were no changes in the schedule he had meticulously organized, this called for him getting close enough to see them but not so close for them to see him. He was duly pleased to find that their schedule hadn't shifted. Clipping on the false ID, he walked briskly towards the front entrance with his back straight and his head high.

The man at the entrance looked tired. Everything about him seemed weary. His posture was slumped, his uniform was ruffled, and his hands were hanging listlessly at his sides. However he stiffened once his dark eyes locked onto the approaching man, his hand moving ever so slightly towards the gun mounted on his belt. Light held his hands up as he approached, smiling and nodding his head as if to assure he meant no harm. The man still looked unconvinced with his hand hovering around his gun. "It's alright," Light said smoothly, approaching so he was at a friendly distance without imposing on his personal space. "You look exhausted," Light's tone was light and conversational. He gestured his head to the ID clipped onto his suit coat pocket.

The man eyed him suspiciously. "I've been on duty for a while…Yuki," he replied uncertainly. His eyes flicked up from the ID to the seemingly honest and smiling face of Light, now dubbed "Yuki" by the false name on his ID. "Do I know you?"

"I'm afraid not," Light said with a small smile "I'm here on business, it's urgent," The photographer let his tone drop into one of utter graveness.

"I don't think I've seen you…are you with the NPA?" he asked, glancing once more at the ID that protruded from Light's pocket.

"Not exactly," Light said, glancing anxiously over his shoulder. This had to be one of the most convincing of his actions. Probably based on the fact that, A: he was anxious Ide would show his face. B: he was anxious that some ex-coworker of his (or perhaps even his father) would poke their head through the front doors of the hospital and C: he was anxious because he knew this man was no idiot and convincing him wouldn't be simple, but at the same time it wouldn't be as hard as convincing someone like Ryuuzaki. His partner who was on shift with him inclined his head as if asking if the man needed help. He waved him off, signaling that he could handle it by himself.

"Not exactly?" the man questioned, peering over Light's shoulder to see if he was looking so anxiously at something in particular.

"You seem like an honest guy," Light said, making sure a frown was planted on his features, "can you keep a secret?"

The man quirked an eyebrow.

The brunette shuffled forward several steps as if he was about to whisper a great secret in his ear, like they were girls on a playground. "Do you know who the head of this investigation is?" Light whispered.

"Hm…of course," the man said, continuing to let his hand linger around his gun that sat dutifully on his hip.

"What if I told you I was working with him?"

The man looked taken aback for a moment but quickly regained his composure. "I don't remember ever seeing you."

"That's because I'm not an NPA member," Light smiled, "because the investigation isn't headed by the NPA." The man stared blankly at him. "I am in direct contact with him, and I am his eyes and his ears, posing as an NPA member."

Disbelief swept across the man's features. There was no way he would know that L was heading the investigation unless he was either in direct contact with L or was working with the NPA. He knew everyone in the NPA; he was clearly not an employee. There was only one other clear explanation on how he came to such information. "I can let you talk to him if you like," Light said, his eyes flashing from the man's face to his pocket. He reached down and into his pockets, purposely fumbling around for a minute. He retrieved a cell phone. "If it would make you feel more comfortable. But it's imperative I'm allowed past this point." The brunette held out the phone. He was waiting to see if the man would call his bluff.

The man waited, the expression on his face clearly stating that he was in a moment of deep decision-making. "I'm not supposed to be sharing this information, that's why I've come here so early," Light confided, dimming his voice to a lowly sound. "But the offer still stands," he brandished the phone.

The man stepped aside. "Alright, Yuki," he said in a fatigued voice. "Thirty minutes, that's all."

"Thank you," Light said, holding back the cruelly victorious smile that threatened to tear across his features. His shiny black shoes tapped against the floor as he replaced his cell phone and pushed his way through the revolving doors. Inside it was quiet, there were a few nurses that meandered about but for the most part it was empty. Light gave several dashing smiles to the young nurses that passed him as he traveled through the halls. Most of them offered back a much more timid smile, nodding their head and carrying on. Not one questioned his presence, as expected. He looked as if he belonged, people didn't question what belonged. The brunette was already aware of where Misa Amane's room was, he had hacked into his Father's police files and pinpointed her location.

Third floor up, room twelve

The elevator could not move fast enough. Light had been careful to avoid any unnecessary contact, the last thing he needed was to run into someone like Matsuda or Aizawa. His cover would be blown and the entire thing gone to hell in a matter of moments. This was a tenuous balancing act, which became clearer with each passing moment. It seemed as if it was a question of when gravity would finally decide to yank him from his cable and onto the hard ground. For now he seemed to be doing alright, still suspended in midair on that thin little wire.

Third floor.

Ding.

The elevator signaled his arrival with its small customary noise. Light felt mouth twitch with a hint of victory so close he could nearly taste it. Even though his gait was controlled as he strode from the elevator, he could already feel satisfaction of reaching his own goal slip intoxicatingly through his veins. It combined with adrenaline to create a pleasing mixture in his senses, sending stimulants up to his brain. He was rounding the corner, he was nearly there. He was almost there.

He was turning the doorknob; he was pressing the door inward. He was there.

STOP.

Everything stopped. Light would claim that even his own heartbeat halted for just the slightest moment before sliding back in synch. His blood came to sudden stop, his legs became planted as if roots kept his feet tethered to the ground, and his expression froze. His hand was still clutching the doorknob; his body was wedged halfway into the room. There was no way…no way…There was no way that was Ryuuzaki. There was no way it was Ryuuzaki of all peoplewho sat crouched over Misa Amane's bed. Was it Light's head? Was it sleep deprivation that was causing delusions? What was it? Goddamn, there needed to be some sort of explanation.

"Oh…Light-kun," nonchalant as ever, "quite a coincidence seeing you here."