This chapter is dedicated to: Kyo and Sinclair, Fallan Phantem, izziexxx, Ryuuichi Mitsukai, xsuppixchanx, kai wood, Your Sweet Suicide, Tai Ping, and Adrienne Channing.

Jealousy \'jel-əs\ ADJ 1 a: intolerant of rivalry or unfaithfulness b: disposed to suspect rivalry or unfaithfulness 2: hostile toward a rival or one believed to enjoy an advantage 3: vigilant in guarding a possession

No one can waste time more efficiently than overworked investigators.

"I just think that maybe that's why you two are always suspicious of each other. It's some deep-seated feeling that you can't express outwardly. Just like in that video!" Matsuda says excitedly.

My father clears his throat. If we never mentioned that video again he would be absurdly happy. You also seem to be getting impatient with Matsuda, so naturally I decide to humor him. "What do think these concealed feelings are?"

Matsuda, unsurprisingly, draws a blank. "Well…maybe you're secretly jealous of each other?" he suggests. His sheepish grin makes it clear he really didn't think before he opened his mouth.

Still…jealous? That would imply that you have a desirable trait that I do not possess. Ha.

Time to end this. "Perhaps so," I admit reluctantly, shrugging my shoulders. This satisfies Matsuda—he's so easily amused, more like a child than a police officer.

I look over at you as something else catches his attention, and immediately notice your eyes boring into me. You've seen right through my fake display of humility, but it doesn't bother me; I'm just being polite. It's rude to brag.

You know that we are far too evenly matched—and far too mature—to feel something like envy, and this notion alone is comforting enough that I allow a small smile in your direction, unnoticed by the other people in the room. Just a private, secret smile shared between you and me.

You don't return it. Your eyes dart away. "Perhaps I am jealous of you, also, Light-kun," you say quietly, suddenly. Matsuda's cup of tea pauses halfway to his mouth, and the entire task force, including myself, stares at you slack jawed.

You don't seem to notice, continuing as if we aren't gaping, "Light-kun is a brilliant young man, gifted in many different areas; and he is attractive. Sometimes I do wish that I were Light-kun—" you look up at me "—if only so that I could be certain of his guilt."

Despite the jab, I sense that you are absolutely serious.

It's logical that you envy my physical appearance—who wouldn't? But we are evenly matched in wit and talent, and for you to mention such a thing indicates a desire to draw attention away from your true point. Therefore, I can disregard the first part of your statement and conclude that you're jealous of my looks.

It would make sense, except…you just don't seem like the type to obsess over appearance. God knows you don't make any effort to look nice—you wear the same outfit every day, even to important induction ceremonies, your hair is always untamed; and the dark circles under your eyes make it clear that you don't take care of yourself like you should.

So I must make another adjustment to your statement. I'm at least ninety percent certain that you're jealous of what my looks result in.

Attention would be the most obvious answer, but, again, you keep your identity hidden. I think you prefer being plain. If you were handsome like me, it would be difficult for you to remain anonymous. In combination with your idiosyncrasies, you would never be left alone. You are a private person.

So it must be that you crave the attention of one person in particular, and the only person I can think of who fulfills that requirement—attracted to me because of my looks—is Misa.

"Ryuzaki, do you like Misa?" I ask hesitantly. You don't even have to look away before I know. "You do!" I can hardly believe it. It just seems so…normal. Not something I would expect from you.

Sure, you said you were jealous of me when you discovered that I was dating Misa, but I had just assumed you were using it as a cover to examine her. That time you stated, very bluntly, that you could fall for Misa, I thought it was your strange sense of humor.

Now I see why your behavior in those instances was so puzzling: you weren't acting. You tell me the truth so infrequently that a rare occurrence of honesty is easy to mistake for a trick; you keep your façade intact so effortlessly that when you drop your mask it just seems like another clever ploy meant to mislead me.

This explains the past two days, and why you would show that tape to the whole investigation team—I had wondered why it mattered to you to hear their opinion on whether or not I had fallen in love with Misa.

I can now see what spurred your sudden flare of vindictiveness—I had been staring at her dress throughout the entire visit, counting the polka dots to ease my annoyance. Of course you would think that I was eyeing the body under the clothes. Anyone would…perhaps even Misa did. She's severely ditzy most of the time, but she can't be completely oblivious. And, if she were to notice anything, it stands to reason that she would be particularly sensitive to a pair of admiring eyes.

And then, almost immediately afterwards, you had caught me in a very compromising situation. Your negative reaction is no surprise; almost justified, actually, especially after that dream…

You pin me with that suspicious look again, like you can hear my thoughts. Your face tilts at an angle until you're staring at me from the corner of your eye; I recognize that expression, even though it's muted by your characteristic apathy. It's the same look you gave me when I woke up after that dream: annoyed, but amused, and, as always, curious.

You blink and turn to face Mogi, who just said something, though I wasn't paying attention. Apparently, you didn't hear him either. "Pardon?"

"I asked if you looked over the details of that secondary school teacher that died yesterday."

Thank you! Finally, someone has enough sense to change the topic.

You blink at him. "Oh. Yamashito Toichi. He was old and had a history of heart problems. I entered the data into the computer, though I hardly think it's relevant."

"But don't you think it's just…I don't know, a bit convenient?" Matsuda puts in desperately. "It was a heart attack. Who do we know that uses heart attacks to kill people?" His voice

I laughed good-naturedly. "Sometimes coincidences are just coincidences." Shit, bad thing to say. I hate how I always have to watch my mouth—I can never relax and say what I want without censoring myself. "But we've followed through, so if there is a connection, we'll find it," I add, turning to you simultaneously only to see your eyes dart quickly away.

My father quickly jumps at the excuse I've created. "Yes, well, if you can handle it, we should be getting home. We'll see you two tomorrow." Oddly enough, the others are in no mood to argue. Apparently this is just as awkward for them as it is for me. Ryuzaki with a sex drive. God, how horrendous. At least they aren't handcuffed to you…damn lucky bastards.

Minutes later, we are once again alone. I'm somehow relieved that they're gone. It's too frantic with everyone around—I feel like I'm babysitting, dividing my attention between you and Matsuda, who always seeks my opinion on a potential lead…you would think him capable of nothing without me holding his hand. Even the presence of the others sometimes grates on my nerves, to the point where I count the minutes until they leave. I like it better when it's just us. It feels more productive, like we're accomplishing something. We work well together (when we're not fighting).

Eventually, the silence becomes unbearable, and I feel a strong desire to make small talk for the prime reason of erasing the conversation about Misa from my mind.

"My sister's birthday is in a week." I see your puzzled look and elaborate. "It was the cake that made me think of it. I should get her something." Again with the censoring—I can't say what I want to say. You get the hidden meaning anyway.

"You want me to free you so that you can buy your sister a birthday present?" you ask wryly, your eyebrows rising.

"Of course not," I say, acting offended—it's not hard to do, as nearly everything you say somehow manages to carry an insult in one way or another, "I know how important this case is, Ryuzaki."

"For someone so focused on the case, you seem to be doing a lot of chattering and very little research."

"I could say the same for you."

"Then perhaps we should get to work." A pause. "It's nice that Yagami-kun thinks of his sister when he's under so much pressure."

I roll my eyes, confident that you can't see me. You didn't even try to veil your sarcasm that time.

"Just curious, Light-kun—do you think that Matsuda's earlier point is valid?"

"Yamashito Toichi? I believe I already stated my opinion."

I swear I just saw you roll your eyes at me when you thought I wasn't looking. "I believe you edited your answer, Yagami-kun."

In the exact same tone of voice, I respond with, "I believe you did, as well, Ryuzaki."

"I believe I can send Watari out for a gift."

The jump in topic only throws me off for a fraction of a second.

"It seems impersonal, don't you think?" I almost laugh. As if you could ever be anything other than impersonal.

"It is too dangerous for us to go outside," you point out. "Perhaps you could order something over the Internet. We'll have it delivered to her."

"Then she would plainly know how impersonal it was."

Then, unbelievably, you inject your suspicions right into the conversation. "Suppose, Yagami-kun, that the Yamashito instance is isolated and unrelated. What do you propose? Are you going to get her a cake?"

Two conversations running parallel at the same time—if you think this will confuse me, you're delusional.

"You make it sound as if cake is the solution for everything, Ryuzaki. I think we should be on the lookout for similar deaths. "

"Cake is never impersonal. In case you haven't noticed, Light, there are hundreds and hundreds of similar deaths." There's that damn sarcasm again, only hindered by your blank expression and flat voice.

"Non-criminals," I specify. You know damn well that this death is inconsequential, but I'll play this game with you. "The man was very old. It could be coincidence. If a person doesn't like cake, then I would say cake would be an impersonal gift for them, as it shows no consideration for their likes and dislikes."

"Everything can be explained logically."

I raise an eyebrow. Oh, that was clever. "Age must be taken into account. She needs to eat healthier anyway. It's likely that Yamashito died from high cholesterol."

You're silent for a moment, and I almost think I've won this pointless little game, but then you say, quietly, "I agree. Sweet things can be hazardous."

I frown. That was an odd wording, in either context. "Are you talking about Kira or cake?"

You shrug. "You tell me."

Now here's where I say: "Are you seriously using this conversation to psychoanalyze me?" I know the answer anyway, but I feel justified in getting offended at every opportunity, since you seem to take every opportunity to offend me. It's all part of the game.

You narrow your eyes. "How does that make you feel?" You bring your fingers to you chin and peer at me, and if I didn't know better, I would say this is your attempt at a joke, and a sorry one at that.

"Don't quit your day job. You'd never make it as a comedian."

"Are you trying to say that I'm not funny, Yagami-kun?" you ask tonelessly.

Are you serious? "Yes, that's exactly what I'm trying to say."

You nod, accepting this. You turn back to your work.

I notice that these past couple days, we don't seem to be getting much work done. Is it because we're bickering worse than usual? Or is it because—

What am I thinking…of course it's because we're bickering worse than usual. Why else?

Sighing heavily in annoyance (why are my thoughts running rampant as of late?), I open the integrated writing program offered by the computer's operating system and switch the style to 'card.' As much as I hate to admit it, Sayu would probably love a cake for her birthday, but I resolve that she will at least get a personalized card to go with it.

I work for a few minutes, adjusting the font and the color of the text. I write a few sappy lines about how much I hope she enjoys her birthday and that I miss her and I'm still thinking about her even though I've moved out of the house, and insert an image of a birthday cake to finish it off.

The rattling of the chain alerts me to your change in position. How did I not feel you coming up behind me? Your presence, so close, makes the hair rise on the back of my neck.

I look up expectantly to see what you want, but you're looking at my computer screen. You smirk as you read the syrupy words.

"I don't think Light-kun should quit his day job."

Guessing Game Results

Most Popular: Justice (10, given by StarRuby, samurai5725, Mika, blahblahblah, Sweetciel, Enma Ai, Purple Lurker, Shadow Vampiress, kero-phy, and Adrienne Channing.)

My Favorite: Juxtapose (1, given by StarRuby.)

Winning Word: Jealousy (8) See top of page.

Hint for K: Light reflects on his relationship with Ryuzaki. (I'm sure this is what many of you have been waiting for.)

Thank you for the reviews.