A/N: It's been a little while - sorry about that! I kinda lost inspiration for this story and had a difficult time getting it back. But I definitely did, don't worry. Also, I just wanted to say again (because I said this last chapter too) that I appreciate all of the feedback I'm getting so, so much! Like, really, it makes my day. Anyway, enjoy! :)

Strawberry shortcake yogurt.

Light strawberry shortcake yogurt, no less.

It had been set in front of him, while he was in the middle of research (the task force was still simply examining the Yotsuba group, as they had not yet had another Kira discussion in the past five days), and it was (obviously) not what he had requested.

However, an event like this was not entirely uncalled for. Quillsh occasionally tried to get the detective to eat healthier, making offhanded comments about early onset diabetes and obesity being an investigative handicap as he did so. Which L always promptly ignored, instead choosing to push aside whatever food the older man had deemed acceptable (salad, seafood, vegetable soup, etc.) and restate his earlier choice.

This attempt was better, in that the food actually resembled dessert, but it was still not desirable enough to try.

So L sat and waited, waited for Quillsh's voice to drift into his ears, as it inevitably would – but it didn't. A few more seconds ticked by, and when it became apparent that no explanation was going to be offered, he turned his chair to face the direction in which the yogurt had entered his field of vision, and –

Light Yagami was standing there, watching him, a patient and slightly hopeful look on his face, his hair ruffled and purposefully messy, everything about him screaming human instead of sociopathic serial killer. This wasn't a mask, it couldn't be, and with that thought, L felt his mask crumble and shatter, and his eyes widened in surprise.

"Light-kun?"

"You'll try that, won't you?" He moved to sit in his seat, at his desk, and then turned to face L. "I think it looks pretty good."

Light Yagami doesn't like sweets. What is the purpose of lying? "I-I…" He felt frustration start to bubble up inside of him at the realization that yogurt was rendering him speechless, and he pressed his arm into his chair, calming himself. "I would, but I'm afraid Watari is on his way with some ice cream."

"He was, but I saw him in the hallway when I came in and stopped him." Light paused, a certain smugness passing over his features, and it still wasn't a mask – "He seemed pleased with my purchase and told me to go ahead."

"Purchase?" Had the teen specifically went out and bought this for him? Why would he do that?

"Yeah, I was at the store and I saw that, and it seemed like something you would like." The detective must've still looked surprised, because Light laughed, the noise completely natural and genuine. "Ryuzaki, this is the type of thing that friends do for each other. Don't look so freaked."

L was almost 100 percent certain that the boy had never done something like this for any of his other friends. (Maybe Amane had been right?)

"This-" He stopped himself, having been about to say, this doesn't make you less likely to be Kira, but in all honesty, it did, so he changed the direction of his thought process. "That is…very kind of you, Light-kun."

Kira would never do anything like that, never buy food for the man that was trying to capture and kill him. This was Light, truly Light, and the kindness he possessed when he wasn't ill with the sickness that was Kira was almost shocking.

He smiled then (L almost wanted to document it, because he just knew it was rare) and turned to face his computer, his back straightening and professionalism taking over his demeanor.

Even so, he still said, not looking at him, "Please, tell me if you like it. I have a feeling Watari would be willing to buy them for you regularly."

Quillsh would absolutely get them for him, that L was sure of, and he idly wondered if the teen and the older man were becoming something that resembled friends.

He forced the thought away, then turned to face the yogurt, fully expecting (and wanting) himself to dislike it.

But, after the first mouthful, he realized that it was nearly as good as real strawberry shortcake, and he almost stubbornly told Light that he hated it.

The men sat around the large octagonal table, backs straight, businesslike, professional. It was a Friday night, and the Yotsuba building was almost nearly empty, except for them. The perfect scene, the perfect opportunity, the perfect chance – to decide who Kira was to kill next.

Or so L was hoping.

Matsuda was very certain that he heard the men talking about Kira before his presence was made known, and everybody had immediately trusted his word. So much that even L felt obligated to.

And so, with a week in between the meetings, everyone had time to think, hypothesize, deduct.

Kira was either one of the men in the group, or was a friend/associate with very strong ties to them. These meetings were about discussing/deciding who to kill to strategically further themselves in their careers, or maybe just further the entire company in general, and not just them. L found the latter hard to believe – humans were far too greedy. If given the power that Kira possessed, the majority would kill for personal gain, not for justice or peace or the wellbeing of many. (Faux justice, though. Faux peace. How can one call it peace if it is achieved by mass murder?) Those goals would scare many, unnerve them, overwhelm them. Plans too large often shatter even the greatest of minds.

But not Light's.

The entire task force was sitting in front of L's monitors, focused on the group of men with rapt attention. It was late in the evening, so late that before the meeting had started, the contents of L's brain had been swirling, becoming a jumbled, confusing mess. It had distracted him, terribly so, and instead of thinking about the case, he had been thinking about the sickeningly good feeling of a blade slicing his arm. But watching the group assemble, knowing that Kira was so close – that easily stole his attention, and he was thankful.

Currently, the group was talking about normal business; things that had happened during the day, plans and meetings for next week – trivial, unimportant information that L didn't care about. He knew that they could possibly be talking in code, but the chance of that was slim, for none of them knew about Wedy bugging the room.

So their business talk was truly just that, and L felt himself drifting away from it, sliding back into his thoughts, except they were now focused on the boy sitting next to him instead of the normal, aching need.

Light Yagami.

He glanced over at him, pleased to see that the teen was watching the monitors with careful attention. His amber eyes were big and bright, determination visible even through L's sidelong view.

Large goals, pressure, expectations…none of those affected Light. Not even in the slightest. He was always prepared, always ready. He never broke a sweat. L was much the same way, although now he needed assistance to help him through daily life (just assistance; just help; it wasn't a problem). Maybe it was the overwhelming confidence that the boy possessed. Being the best all his life – he was the top student in Japan, after all – never failing, never even worrying about failing.

That was where L and Light differed. Yes, L was confident; he was the three greatest detectives in the world (if he wanted to get technical); he couldn't afford not to be sure of himself. But he was no stranger to failing. And he was becoming far too accustomed to worrying about it.

The importance of this case, how life threateningly serious it was, all of it – it wanted to break him. It wanted to tear his mind to pieces, destroy everything he'd made for himself (if he lost this case, if he couldn't catch Kira, his reputation would be irreparably shattered). And it was. L's mind was like a city – once glorious in its beauty, skyscrapers massive enough to be seen from anywhere. It wasn't without its troubles; there were earthquakes every once in awhile, heavy, damaging storms. But it had always been rebuilt, never succumbing to the pressure of the outside world. But now it was crumbling, falling apart, crashing to the ground.

And every night, when L tried to fix it, repair it, rebuild it like he always had, his efforts were almost useless. Each cut he carved into his skin was like putting a piece of duct tape on a single crack of a dying building.

A single crack, when there were millions more.

It was impossible.

But L was going to damn well try.

"So…"

The voice immediately pulled him out of his thoughts. The tone of it was different, darker; it signaled that the masks were coming off, that the previous conversation was over. It told L that the real reason for this meeting was only just beginning.

"Last week's deaths have already served us well." Blunt, then. (They really didn't know they were being watched.) L's eyes quickly scanned the screens, searching for the man who was talking. "Yotsuba is quickly becoming the leading, most profitable company in Tokyo." Takeshi Ooi. He was the oldest of the group, and the Vice President of VT Enterprises. No wife, no family. Very committed to his work. He could be Kira…

"Yes, our plan is going very smoothly." Reiji Namikawa. The Vice President of Sales, he graduated from Harvard University, in the United States, spending a total of six years there. His father was the President of Yotsuba's US Division… "Who should we kill next?"

The entirety of the task force gasped, while L just leaned closer to the screen. There was a possibility, however slight it may be, that they would reveal how Kira's power worked. Was it a physical object, or simply mental? How willingly could it be passed from one person to another? What did Shinigami have to do with it?

(L, do you know, Gods of death love apples? We can show our Shinigami's to each other…)

"I believe a more important matter needs to be discussed first." Masahiko Kida, the Vice President of Rights and Planning. Quillsh had mentioned something about him a few days ago, hadn't he? It had been late at night, so L hadn't paid much attention… "I hired a detective, Eraldo Coil," oh, that's right, "to further investigate L for us, and to figure out his face and name."

Right. They were trying to kill him. Of course they were.

"Now we have to worry about this Eraldo Coil guy?" Matsuda's voice shattered the intense focus that had become the atmosphere of the room. "We can never catch a break!"

L almost ignored him, because thinking about explaining himself seemed like too much effort. But after a glance around the room, and seeing Light's wide, concerned eyes, he figured he should alleviate their worries.

"Coil won't be a problem." L looked back at the screens and started watching again, but the majority of his mind was concentrating on his words. "The detective by the name of Eraldo Coil is me."

"What?"

The question came from several of the men at once, and L didn't care to differentiate the voices.

"The three greatest detective's in the world, L," it felt strange to say his name out loud, "Eraldo Coil, and Denueve – they're all me." He could feel his attention being pulled back to the screens, to the meeting, and he hoped that the Coil conversation would be over quickly.

"So…" Matsuda sounded completely confused, and it took him a few seconds to get the rest of his sentence out. "They hired…you…to catch…you?"

"Well, yes, technically." The way Matsuda said it made it seem comical. Maybe it was. "But to them, they've hired Aiber."

He remembered now; he'd talked this plan over with Quillsh and eventually decided to have Aiber pose as Eraldo Coil. So far that plan had worked out brilliantly, as far as he knew.

Everyone was still confused, that much was obvious, but L's attention had fully refocused on the meeting unfolding in front of them.

They were talking about who to kill now – they had most likely voiced their annoyance at Eraldo Coil's inability to locate L and then simply moved on. The men were speaking of people and businesses that L had little to no knowledge of (meaning, basically, that he didn't care), and it didn't take long before they came to a decision on who their next victim was to be. The one currently speaking, Kyosuke Higuchi – yes, L remembered him – said the name of the unlucky businessman, and the rest of the group spoke unanimously with a single, solemn, agreed.

L regarded the interaction with silent interest, wondering how it was possible to talk about murder in such a civilized way. None of their expressions had changed, either; they were all calm and serious, no sense of regret present in any of them. To a distant onlooker, nothing would seem out of place. If they hadn't been speaking of such dismal, morbid things, it would easily appear to be a regular meeting.

While L had kept his thoughts inside, the rest of the task force apparently had no qualms about loudly voicing theirs.

"We need to stop them. We can't let anyone else die." Soichiro. Of course. L should've expected him to speak out; he would never be alright with innocent men dying if he had even a chance of stopping it. Which, in this case, he did, but the chance was overwhelmingly slim.

"How can they just talk about killing someone like that?" Light. Surprising, considering the detective had witnessed the boy kill without moving a single muscle in his face. True, it was a different Light Yagami then – Kira Light Yagami – but still, he possessed those murderous tendencies somewhere inside of him.

"I know!" Matsuda. L wasn't sure who he was agreeing with. "It almost makes me sick!" Somehow, he actually managed to sound nearly ill.

"We have enough evidence to arrest them with these recordings. I'm calling this in." The sound of Soichiro taking his phone out of his pocket could be heard, and L waited until he heard the man begin to dial to intervene.

"Yagami-san." He made sure that he was loud, commanding. "Please, put away your phone."

"But, Ryuzaki." Desperation was creeping into the man's voice, and L wondered if he would even be able to stop him. "We need to keep them from killing any more people."

L turned his chair so he was facing the former chief, and he made sure that his eyes were hard, unyielding. "We are not completely sure that Kira is in fact part of this group. It could simply be a friend of theirs, or a person that only one of the men can contact. Arresting all of them would be too rash of a movement, and it would lessen our chances of finding the one, single Kira."

"So we just let them keep killing?" Light moved to stand next to his father, a look of disbelief plastered on his face. "We're supposed to save people, Ryuzaki!"

"We're supposed to catch Kira, Light-kun." What would Light be saying if he was still Kira? He would most likely agree with L, but, what did that line of thinking even matter? If Light was still Kira, they wouldn't be in this situation. "We would be sacrificing a few for the greater good."

"I can't agree with that." He would've made an outstanding police officer, if he hadn't become a serial killer. "We need to find some way of stopping them from killing without completely blowing our cover…" L could almost picture the wheels turning in the teen's mind, and his amber eyes flickered back to the screen, to where the men were now discussing their second victim.

The detective could feel that his mind was beginning to slip; his focus was wavering, teetering back and forth between Kira and escaping to his room. There really was no way to excuse himself at this point; all the action was happening now. Everything they'd been waiting for. If only he had a blade with him…

"Ryuzaki."

L blinked and looked up at the boy, his eyes widening slightly when their gazes immediately locked. Light looked determined, albeit still slightly agitated from before, but after a few seconds, his eyes softened a little. It was barely noticeable; surely he was the only one who had caught the change. But what did it mean?

But he couldn't think about that now. Later he would. Yes, definitely later. When he was laying in bed, both of his arms stinging with fresh cuts – then he'd be able to truly focus.

Apparently Light had taken L's wide eyed stare as enough of a response, because he continued speaking without receiving any verbal confirmation. "If someone in the group is Kira, and it's not an outsider, wouldn't you say the odds of one of them being Kira is one in seven?"

"Yes." His mind was suddenly pulsing, becoming terribly jumbled, and he needed to concentrate. "But I'd say at least two in seven. It is possible that there is a second Kira among them."

"Two in seven…" Light's mind was obviously racing, calculating, predicting. He leaned on the desk in front of him with two hands, his face closer to the screen than anybody else's. "I'm going to call one of them and act as L. This way we could get a potential spy and stop them from killing at the same time. And I think the odds are in my favor."

"Yes, it seems that they are." L's eyes scanned the area around his desk until he found the object he desired, and he gently pushed it towards Light. "Use this phone. It cannot be traced or tapped."

"Who are you going to call?" Matsuda's voice broke something – although he wasn't sure what. However, it had made him aware that there were other people in the room, because somehow, he'd forgotten.

"I'm going to call Namikawa; he seems to have the most influence, but it's obvious he isn't Kira. Can I have his number, Matsuda?" There was the noise of rustling papers, and then the number was being read off, and Light was dialing, putting the phone to his ear; his eyes were glued to L.

But L looked away and glanced up at the screen, to see Namikawa pulling out his phone and looking quite disgruntled. Probably at the fact that there was no caller ID.

"Hello?" he answered, his voice impossibly smooth and confident, and for some reason it was inherently obvious that he wasn't Kira, as Light had stated.

The teen didn't bother with greetings. "Reiji Namikawa. Listen to me carefully, and don't draw attention to yourself. I…am L." The words sounded so natural, so normal, coming out of Light's mouth, and L had to quickly look up at him, just to make sure there wasn't the glint of Kira in his eyes. There wasn't. "We have cameras and microphones in the room you're in, and have been watching your entire meeting. First, you spoke about business as usual, but now you're deciding who your second victim is going to be."

Namikawa visibly stiffened, and L imagined that his eyes widened, too, though he couldn't tell from the view they had. But after a couple seconds he relaxed, took a deep breath, and remained as businesslike as ever. "I see."

"If you're not Kira, and you don't have direct contact with Kira, I'd like to make a deal."

"Go on."

Light had him. His plan was going beautifully (how had L not thought of it?), and he was smirking triumphantly with his success. "I'd like you to postpone any deaths you plan until one month from now. I'd also like you to keep attending these meetings, but to stay on the sidelines and act as a spy for me. If you can do these things, without telling the other men, of course – you don't want them to panic, do you? – then everyone except Kira won't be charged with any crimes. On the premise that you were all blackmailed into participating in these meetings."

Namikawa's reply wasn't immediate; L could tell he was weighing his options, figuring out what was best for him. Eventually, he said, "That sounds reasonable." His voice was calm, collected, practiced. None of the other men seemed to be the least bit suspicious.

"We'll be staying in contact." Light hung up without saying another word, and the entirety of the task force was silent as they watched the screen, eyes focused on specifically Namikawa.

He slid his phone into his pocket, and when another group member asked what the call was about (L knew he should remember his name, but he truly didn't care at the moment), he simply said, "One of my men screwed up. I'll have to fix it on Monday."

His statement was unanimously regarded as the truth; he had their absolute trust.

Namikawa cleared his throat then, and all the voices in the room stopped, all heads turned towards him. There was a few beats of silence, and then his sure, confident voice was being projected into the void. "I believe it would be in our best interest to postpone any more deaths and focus solely on gathering information about L." There was murmuring, but no outright disagreements. "If we continue with what we've been doing, there's a chance that the police will start to notice a pattern. However, once L has been eliminated, we can let our guards down a little and kill more freely."

Once L has been eliminated. He felt a slight sense of unease at the words, even though he knew that he was in no real danger. They were not going to kill him; they couldn't. He was really actually quite safe; Yotsuba Kira had no way of finding out his name, and Light was no longer Kira, so his presence was no longer a hazard.

"How long of a postponement are you thinking?" Shingo Mido (the Vice President of Corporate Strategy/Director of Financial Planning, L recalled) asked, in no way sounding opposed to the idea. None of the men seemed to be against it; some appeared to be thinking, some had their attention focused specifically on whoever was speaking.

"I propose that we give Coil, oh, a month, perhaps, to find out more about L," Namikawa said, and he certainly was a brilliant actor. "After that one month, we kill, and then wait another, keeping up that pattern until L is dead. Hopefully it doesn't take too much longer."

There were no complaints. All the men seemed to be pleased, probably at the idea of L being gone, and then they gave a single, unanimous, agreed.

"You did it, Light," Matsuda breathed, and he sounded amazed. Well, he probably was. He would've never been able to think of a plan like that one. "Way to go!"

"Yes, good job, son." The sound of Soichiro clapping Light on the shoulder could be heard, and L wondered how much pain he would feel if the same had been done to him. Probably minimal; his upper arm had less cuts than his lower arm.

L glanced up at the teen, and after a few seconds their eyes had locked once again. All the agitation was gone from the amber depths, and had instead been replaced with pride, happiness, triumph (and that same softness from earlier).

"Very nice work, Light-kun." L held his gaze for a few seconds longer and looked down at his desk, only now realizing that in the midst of his mental distress earlier, he'd forgotten to ask Quillsh for dessert. How unfortunate. "Your intelligence is truly amazing. You may even be smarter than me."

"Don't say that, Ryuzaki." Modest. "You're the greatest detective in the world. I'm just a college student."

"Mmm. Yes, I suppose that's true." Hopefully Light hadn't been expecting him to continue the back and forth game of compliments that they were falling into; he had no time for that.

"What's our next plan of action, Ryuzaki?" Soichiro asked, and L could hear him take a step forward, so he was right behind him. "We have one month until they kill again."

L didn't immediately respond; he was thinking, trying to come up with something. He almost wanted to turn around and ask Soichiro why they needed a plan right this minute, but he recognized that it would be unnecessarily rude, so he stayed still, staring at the keyboard on his desk.

Surely, the men would be contacting Coil again soon, demanding more results. So far, L had given them barely anything, and he knew that soon, they would begin to grow impatient, and, eventually, fire him. Which, although it wasn't the worst thing in the world, it did make things slightly more unsafe for L. Perhaps they'd hire Denueve next – that actually would be quite comical.

Still, it wasn't worth it to take any chances, because more than likely, they'd hire someone else, someone who wasn't L, and while they wouldn't be able to find anything, L wouldn't be in charge. Wouldn't be able to monitor them as closely as he could now.

So he needed something. Something to make the Yotsuba group think they were making progress. Something that would aid in finding Kira. Something that he could control.

Suddenly, an idea came to him, seemingly out of nothing, but it was definitely the something they'd needed.

He turned to face the task force, his thumb on the edge of his bottom lip, his knees pulled securely against his chest. They were all looking at him expectantly, and L locked eyes with Light again before moving to stare at nothing in particular.

"We need Misa Amane."

He was a painting, random splashes of white and blue and black and red. He was art, some twisted, sickening form of it, something just not quite right, a little bit off. A hit and a miss, the artist would decide that he was unsellable. Put him in a room of other unfortunates and let him rot and depreciate, until the little that he may have been worth was lost forever.

But, maybe, he thought to himself, as he clutched his knife in one hand and felt blood running down the other, if he had been put in a gallery, there was a chance that he could've been bought. The artist would've been surprised, no doubt of that, but he would immediately accept the buyer's offer of full price. A tag would be placed on the horribly beautiful painting, reading, sold to a Mr. Light Yagami, and he would be appreciated, gazed upon, never forgotten.