Disclaimer: I do not own Death Note.
Apology: I'm so sorry. Really, I'm sorry. This took forever. I have no valid excuse. This thing is gonna be pretty long by the time it's done. I was looking at my map of it, and it's barely a quarter of the plot done.
Announcement: I said I would choose a new icon when FF re-enabled links on profiles, and links are re-enabled! As such, I have chosen the lovely creation of Krazy-K0ala! Look her up!
A link to her profile: httpCOLON/wwwDOTfanfictionDOTnet/u/2666051/
And to her DeviantArt: httpCOLON/krazy-k0alaDOTdeviantartDOTcom
Nervous, A and Light arrived early enough to see the end of the staff's setting-up process. As the final, long table was dragged into place (a sound Light hoped he'd never have to hear again), Light and A began collaborating.
It was harder than expected (how exactly do you plan a conversation with a potential murderer and your roommate, who he's fucking, who may or may not know/care that he's a psychopath?), and other students started to arrive before they had anything concrete.
When B and C finally arrived, they looked... slovenly to say the least. C waved at Light who forced a flawless smile back and gestured with his head that they should take a seat nearby.
"B, this is A," Light said as pleasantly as possible. "A, B."
"Pleased to meet you," A offered.
"Agreed," B said blankly. He glanced at where C sat down next to Light and placed himself across from him, next to A, who leaned slightly away, giving Light a very brief, wide-eyed glance.
Either not seeing this or just not caring, B straightened and craned his neck, evidently looking for something, casting around until his eyes landed on—
Light followed his gaze to see that it had alighted on and not moved from L.
L, of course, noticed, and met the stare head-on, unblinking. B's eyes narrowed and L's lips slipped slowly up into a smirk, his thumb coming to his lips and sticking there. Then he looked away, up at the ceiling as he sometimes liked to, the only sign of the exchange the smirk that lingered in his expression.
Light and A exchanged raised eyebrows as Light passed C a bowl of cauliflower as it came around. C grinned, apparently indifferent to the entire situation, and loaded up his plate.
"So, A," B said suddenly, face molded into a mask of pleasantness, as if absolutely nothing had happened. "What do you do? Any hobbies?"
"Math," A lied.
"Interesting. Myself, I enjoy a good murder mystery."
Light thought the smile that accompanied that statement was appropriate, and elected to take full advantage of B's apparent focus to finally get a word alone with C.
Trying to be stealthy, Light leaned a bit toward his roommate and rested his chin on his palm, letting his fingers cover up his mouth from the front. From such a position, he whispered, "C."
Catching on, C imitated his posture and, after taking a perilously large mouthful of cauliflower, whispered back, "Yeah?"
"So, you and B, huh?"
The older boy grinned goofily. Light wanted to punch him in the face. "Yeah, I guess so."
"I'm happy for you. But, um, don't you think that happened a little fast?"
C shrugged.
"Did you know him before, or something?"
"Nope. There's just something about him."
"I've noticed."
Light was about to move the conversation in the direction of 'stop bloody fucking in our room when I'm there, asshole,' but before he could continue, B's gaze had turned back to C and C was beyond Light's reach.
"I," A said grandly as he swept into the mostly-deserted library, tossing the doors aside with practiced familiarity, "have never met a bigger freak in my entire life, and I live at Wammy's House for Extraordinary Children."
"Right?" Light demanded. "Look. We've got to talk to Wammy. We can't have B working on his own case."
A frowned and shifted uncomfortably. "What makes you think he'll get ranked high enough to do that?"
"No, of course he won't," Light backpedaled. Seeing as how A was going to be the one getting replaced by B, Light could see how it might be a sensitive topic. "He just seems really smart, and I'm worried he might find out what we're investigating."
"No, he won't," A insisted, actually crossing his arms over his chest. "L isn't going to talk, so if you or I don't tell him, no one will. How much have you told C about the case?"
"Nothing."
"Then we're fine. B won't find out. We can still tell Mr. Wammy we're suspicious."
"We don't have enough proof to actually accuse B of anything," Light replied, annoyed. "A hunch is only enough to get Wammy to agree to keep him out of the case."
"But he won't be in the top three so that's irrelevant," A said firmly.
Light shook his head. He sat down heavily in one of the library chairs, trying to send the tension into the cushion. He was probably worried for no reason. B was creepy, but besides a possible opportunity there was no reason to believe he'd done anything at all. Gut feelings weren't evidence.
He sighed, shook his head again, and tried to divert the subject a bit. "I got to talk to C for about four seconds. I only managed to confirm that they didn't know each other before Wammy's."
A, socially-aware soul that he was, visibly relaxed at the obvious topic change. "Did you ask him to stop... you know?" He cringed, but a small smile escaped his attempt at sobriety.
"I ran out of time," Light grumbled, bringing his legs up to his chest. The moment he noticed he'd done so, he put them down and crossed them.
"What do you think he meant, he loves a good murder mystery?" A speculated, taking a seat next to Light and reaching over his shoulder to grab a book from one of the shelves. Light wasn't sure if it was a book that was actually related to one of A's classes, or if A just compulsively needed to study at all times.
"That he's a psycho who murdered his parents and a random guy," he suggested flatly.
"He's so creepy. That moment when he saw L?" A continued, frown threatening to consume his face. Light hoped the frown didn't consume the seven charming freckles on his cheekbones. Not that he had counted them or thought they were charming. "He looked murderous."
"He might kill L."
A rolled his eyes and the frown was gone. "Don't sound so hopeful."
"Sorry," Light replied cheerfully.
"But he might try."
"He might," Light agreed.
"You know how he dyed his hair black? I mean, he was obviously blonde at one time."
"Yeah."
"Well, what if he's copying L? Like what I've been doing, except he's actually trying to be him. That look wasn't friendly, though... what if he hates him for some reason?"
"He just got here. How could he hate him so quickly?"
A raised an eyebrow. "You swore eternal vengeance after day one."
"...It was day two. And L screwed with me."
"Regardless, he might have known L before Wammy's House."
"Well," Light remembered, "he did say that L's renown outside of Wammy's was growing. So maybe he knew of him, but they'd never met. And maybe little details about L are getting popular, too. Like his freakish hair."
"And then he dyed his hair and killed his parents. To attract L's attention? To get close to him?"
"To come to Wammy's and be close to him."
"How did he find out about Wammy's House?"
Light shrugged. "We're pretty closely associated with Harbor Oaks."
"So he knew that he had to be an orphan to get here, to be close to L, so he killed his parents. And he killed Mr. Longmire to make the case interesting and confusing enough to get the police's attention, then to stump them, so that they'd ask us?"
"He knew his intelligence would be noticed, that way, and that he'd end up here," Light agreed. "On paper, he's exactly what Mr. Wammy is looking for. Brilliant, with a bias against crime. A bit old, though."
"Maybe..." A said slowly, "Mr. Wammy made an exception about age because B reminds him of L and... he thinks B might be a friend for him."
Light leaned back in his chair. "Wouldn't that be interesting."
Just as it was really starting to roll, Light's train of thought was derailed by A suddenly leaping to his feet. "Okay. This is enough for one night," he said. "Tests are tomorrow. I've gotta go study for astronomy. Can't have geniuses walking around knowing nothing about the solar system."
"Can I sleep in your room?" Light asked helplessly, knowing it was futile because his best friend was, unfortunately, insane.
"Normally, yes," A said. At least he seemed sympathetic. "But I'm really behind and the tests are tomorrow."
"Fine," Light grumbled.
"You're going to have to face them eventually." A looked at one of the many nearby clocks— the library was littered with them. "It's not that late, yet. If you go now, they might be elsewhere and you can fall asleep before any... events occur."
Light gave a long-suffering sigh. "Some friend you are. Won't even let me sleep on your floor in order to avoid trauma," he accused him half-heartedly.
A grinned. "Love you too, man," he said, and scampered off to his room.