Disclaimer: I do not own Death Note
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L drew a hand down his face. He had just spent a good part of the night staring at the Death Note rules until the words were burned into his mind, as if doing so would give him the last thing he needed to finally close the investigation.
Maybe some sleep would do him good, in this one instance. And oh, how the bed would feel tonight without a handcuff! He would finally be able to relish the feel of the pillows and the sheets and the-
"Still brooding over that, huh?"
It was hard to resist the nearly animalistic urge to jump when Matsuda's ever-merry voice came out from behind L. As his heart rate slowed back down, he turned to face the slightly older detective. "I thought you'd turned in for the night along with the rest of them."
Matsuda shrugged as he walked up to the Task Force's insomniac. "Couldn't sleep … hey, do you mind letting me see that notebook again?"
L hesitated; something in Matsuda's voice was … off. And why would he want to see the Death Note again? Well, whatever the reason, it wasn't as if he would do anything to it - this was Matsuda, after all.
…Which, of course, also meant that there was a high risk of the Death Note somehow catching on fire – because this was Matsuda – or exploding – again, Matsuda – or flying into a shredder the Task Force's headquarters didn't have – Matsuda – but that was alright because there was a fire extinguisher just a few feet away from where L sat, and he wasn't afraid to use it.
Wait. L forced his imagination to halt as the logical part of his exhausted brain struggled to take over.
Matsuda was childish - he was not, however, the embodiment of chaos.
Sort of.
Maybe.
Not quite, anyway – not unless last month's Halloween fiasco counted. Which it didn't … did it?
A bowl of purple-red punch burst into the forefront of L's mind's eye and he shivered ever so slightly. Yes, he decided. It counted. Very, very, much so.
He held out the Death Note to Matsuda as he angled himself towards the fire extinguisher.
Matsuda flipped forward a few pages before staring down at the notebook, eyebrows furrowed as he concentrated. Finally, he placed it down on L's work desk and started fishing for something in his jacket. "L," he said, his voice heavy. "I didn't want to believe this, but … I found this in my drawer recently." He took out a wrinkled paper from one of his pockets and smoothed it out as best he could. "Look. That handwriting in the notebook is the same as here, see?"
L leaned over to stare at the paper, heart starting to pound. The letters on Matsuda's paper … it was written in the exact same style as Lind L. Tailor's name! "Who wrote this?" he demanded.
Matsuda, however, looked taken aback at the question. "It was Light, can't you remember? You were there!"
"Light," L whispered. Why ... why, yes! How could he have forgotten that day?
A few weeks ago…
"Hey, Light, L," Matsuda called out as he walked into the Task Force's main room. "Can I ask one of you a favor?"
L closed his eyes and started counting to ten while Light whipped around to face Matsuda with a coffee-induced morning smile. "What can we help you with, Matsuda?"
"Well, you see, a lot of Kira's victims are from different countries, so some of their names are written in English, but I'm having some problems reading the weird letters..."
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Shortly after…
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"How can you still not understand this?!" Light cried as he buried his face into his hands. A manly tear or two threatened to escape him.
"Light, you are the worst tutor in the world," L observed, a finger on his lip. Honestly, he couldn't get anything done with the noise they were making. He threw a glance at Matsuda, who sat in a miserable silence with the most desolate expression any man can have. "Perhaps I should take over–"
"No!" Light snapped. He straightened up, a dangerous gleam in his eyes as he began scratching out English letters again. "I will teach Matsuda how to read this damned alphabet!"
Present Day
L's eyes (somehow) glittered, a smirk slowly dawning on his face. It had paid off! His chain-my-suspect-to-me-24/7 plan worked! All the sleep he'd lost due to Light's snores, the complete displeasure of housing the boy's squeaky-voiced girlfriend, the absolute lack of privacy, it was all worth it.
L scooped up the precious pieces of evidence, bid Matsuda a good night and hurried off to his room. He would make the announcement tomorrow, when everyone was awake and out of their pajamas. But for now, he needed to sleep before he collapsed.
But not before he locked the paper and Death Note up in a secret little safe his bedroom had.
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Author's Note: This chapter's idea was suggested by an anonymous reader. I did the best I could with it, even if the way I put things was really random.
I apologize for any errors in the work that might have slipped through the editing process. And L's room has a safe because, well ... it's his room.
