So L was a girl.

That would take some getting used to.

He'd always imagined L as a man. Not a terribly old man, as L's moves had been both calculated and risky, something an ordinary, aged detective wouldn't have the gall for. He couldn't say as he'd ever imagined L to be any older than his own father. More like a grad school dropout that was more criminal than lawman and just way too smart for institutional education. But even that image was liberal. L in his mind was usually an emotionless lab rat, bred to be all brain—all left brain, at that, the kind of guy that thought in graphs and equations instead of Japanese, with some creepy organization pulling his strings. Just short of robot.

And what reason did he ever have to doubt that L was a machine? Obviously L had an identity to protect, but when the only thing you show the outside world is a capital letter clouded by noise and a phonetically garbled voice . . . the whole affair feels artificial. But now L had made the first move.

Hypothetically. Because what if this chick really wasn't L, but just another stand-in? First of all, the real L would have some serious balls, sending such a freak to speak for him. That'd be a good strategy though. A decoy that harebrained couldn't possibly instill fear in anyone. Kira's not afraid, he lets his guard down. L wins.

Light didn't like that.

And if she weren't really L, she was pretty ballsy herself. Everyone knew who Kira was and what he did; even if he didn't have her real name, he knew her face, and that was half the battle. Would she really place herself in such a slippery situation just because some detective was too chicken to step forward himself?

Hell, it could have just been a prank. She mentioned the Kira case, but she hadn't accused Light of anything. Maybe she was just some sheltered home-schooler and this was her best idea at having some fun. And why shouldn't she tease her only intellectual competition?

But that wasn't it. This girl was L. That much was certain. And she'd made a brilliant move—for what it was. Her coming forward like this just meant she didn't have a whit of evidence on him. He was free to just bide his time, lure her in, butter her up. . . .

And there it was.

Light was a charming guy, right? A little sweet-talking would go a long way with someone like her. The world's greatest detective could still be lonely, insecure—especially if she were a woman. For now she was just Ryūga, and suspicious as they were of one another, they'd just be friends. But he would change her mind. A little seducing, and he'd have her trust in the end. There was no doubting that.

This would be a piece of cake.