Detectives and Oatmeal Porridge
L stood, slouched over, and observed the building's current most interesting object. He had currently stopped observing Amane - he'd decided to simply put her in surveilled quarters, Watari watched her in his place (he'd watch the recorded videos some other time, but it seemed unlikely that Kira would pop out again with Light-kun in such a dilemma). The pale detective decided he'd try to figure out what had turned his most formidable foe into a four year-old kid with tiny hands, tiny feet, short, pudgy limbs, small ears, heck, even his teeth were miniscule!
Maybe he got cursed?
L huffed quietly, ha, the Chief's nationally-prized son cursed? That would serve him right, tch, the brat (literally) had killed many of the great criminals he had been slowly catching - like Bin Laden. Or maybe it was the consequences for being too.. too..? L shrugged, he'd think over the matter when he'd have gathered more information. Right now he wanted to contemplate the kid's eating habits.
There was nothing wrong with it, see, but, it, it.. it was something L had never observed before. Especially with the sort of "evolution" mankind had taken this century (you know, lack of manners and tact was very common these days). Though he had read books about it, he had never actually seen it personally. And L would easily admit (if anyone asked him) that it was impressive - in his standards.
His back was straight and he handled the chopsticks like a professional, in the traditional way, even as he ate, his back never wavered, he steadily brought every bite up to his mouth. It looked natural, which, he was convinced, was the case. Back home in England, the kids were more carefree and gently raised - the elders at Whammy had few rules, which all had nothing to do with manner (which usually resulted with many slouching, ground-friendly children), mainly because they wanted to make the genii feel comfortable. Light was a strange combination, in deed, he was as perfect as a toddler could be. The only fault was that Light-kun was humming the tune of If-You're-Happy-and-You-Know-It, something that had made Mastuda grin like an imp and bob his head.
L had to remind himself that the little criminal might be lying. He'd just used his Kira powers. . abilities, abilities, he was more comfortable with that word. Yes. He had used his abilities to transform into a more chubby faced version of himself with hair and eyes of an angel. L's lips turned down. He wouldn't fall for Kira's schemes though, unlike the rest of force - he'd even made the sour Aizawa crouch and smile to try and please him. Aizawa.
'Light-kun is considerably reserved for someone his age, Chief,' L remarked. Making the boy's head swivel round to stare at him suspiciously, eyes pinched up, L blinked: Ok, what was it now? Younger Light, or (as everyone addressed him) Rai-chan, had taken quite a disliking to him. Something he couldn't hide quite as well as his older self, not that he even bothered, kids seemed quite vocally frank with such matters. A comfortable difference from the masks he wore in his older body.
'Ah, yes,' Yagami said, as though reminiscing. 'He has always been like this, even though Sachiko and I never pressured or stressed proper manner. It's quite the wonder.'
The little rascal grinned brightly, brightening the mood round in the room. Except L, who immediately soured at the brat's embarrassed, yet pleased countenance. Who wouldn't? Especially right after Kira slipped right through his fingers (or handcuffs, in his particular case), and was now playing the clueless child.
A child that was Not (with a capital letter because he was most certainly not) cute in any way. Which kind of normal child ate up their vegetables first? The sort that wasn't cute. Period.
'But Light was quite the strange kid, Chief. I used to struggle whenever I babysat him,' Aizawa remarked.
'I dunno about that,' Matsuda interpolated. 'Raito was a sweet boy, liked helping others and loved coming to the station with Yagami-san.'
L would have liked to ponder over the extents of Kira's powers - something mouth-watering for any scientist - but he was quite angry that Light had once again thrown his plans into jeopardy. He was barely even paying attention to their words.
'You should stand better, Sir Detective,' a little voice informed him. L looked down at the boy, who had finished eating and was standing in front of him with its small arms crossed wisely.
L was sorely tempted to crouch down completely. The kid craning his neck impressively had not a thing to do with it, too.
Light hesitated when those grey eyes settled on him. The detective's look was unsettling! It made him feel as though he'd committed a heavy crime he wanted to confess. So he decided he would help him out, not helping people in need was a crime in his books. Something he was glad to set straight. So he said, 'Your backbone will curve up if you don't, and that would not be good for your body.'
Chief Yagami stepped forward and ruffled his hair. 'Rai-chan, don't poke your nose around too much.'
'I assure you I am in good health, Light-kun,' he replied.
The boy frowned uncertainly for a while before letting it go and turning to tug his father's hand. 'Let's go, I do not like this place, father. Or the detective,' he said, shuffling closer until he was standing beneath the hand, shoulder pressed into Yagami's side.
L could relate. But he never really knew what Light didn't like about him. 'What is it that you don't like in me Light-kun?'
'You are mean,' he said in a concluding manner. Adding a little huff. 'Hmph. Saying I had to stay here. And you do not look as great as my dad said you were. And you look like those people my mom told me to avoid - you're.. you're,' he paused, licking his lips and trying to find the correct word. 'Cleepy, yes, cleepy. Like that killer my dad captured on Friday.'
Mastuda seemed horrified. Aizawa looked as though he wanted to smile and palm his face at the same time. The Chief nearly sputtered.
'And your house is like a prison, too, you need fresh air for your lungs,' he continued not in the least deterred. 'Or your blood will stop working. And-'
'Raito,' Soichiro reprimanded. Making his son halt, looking quite remorsed. 'You are quite mistaken, son, Ryūzaki is respected by policemen and criminals fear him.'
L and Light both noticed he didn't contradict his other phrases, making Light know he was right in some aspects (a grin spreading on his face, untamed) and L deadpan even more. He was not "cleepy," maybe if the kid had said "creepy" L might have considered his little "And, And" speech.
'He's a Chief like you?' Light asked. That was something he admired - his father was one, after all.
'Curiosity killed the cat, Light,' L muttered in English.
The Chief, knowing that patience is the key with children, was ever so calm. 'No, he is a private detective, he doesn't collaborate with any particular agency.'
He set his hand on his chin and looked up and away, thinking, his mouth opening slightly. L was convinced he was figuring out the meaning of some words his father had just used. But the kid could at least close his mouth, L could spot drool filling his mouth, it could spill over any time now.
He then finally decided to say. 'My father is the Chief of the NPA, Sir Detective.'
He was once again in front of L. 'I know,' he replied, turning around dismissively and sitting on the sofa. Ugh, he was tired of this.
'He also solves cases, like a detective.' His tone said "Chief of NPA is more impressive than a detective."
'That is pretty much general knowledge,' L said, pulling the packet of treats from his pocket. 'I don't need you to repeat that to me.'
He was expecting a reply, but Light failed to answer, and L, surprised he didn't get any, looked up from his snacks. Light had stilled and was looking at his treats with shimmering eyes, L looked away. That's dangerous, he thought. Dangerous. This was his first time interacting with a child below nine years-old. Did they all have such huge eyes?
'Sir Detective?' His tone was cautious.
L looked up instinctively, inwardly shrinking when he met the kid's eyes. The question was already gleaming in them, but there was no way L was sharing his chocky-bickies with the brat. They were his, no way he was sharing. No way on Earth. No way at all.
'Please may I have one?' Light asked.
Didn't Light dislike sweets? and wasn't he the "mean guy" a few seconds ago?
Aizawa elbowed Mastuda, whispering in vain: 'Watch this.' because everyone heard his whisper.
'No,' L replied. The brat wasn't getting anything from him. Watari had specially ordered these biscuits from England. For HIM. Light was never considered.
His mouth turned down sadly. L had difficulties convincing himself that the boy was acting. I mean, only a monster would think that in the face of a child.
'Just one, please?'
'I don't share with my enemies, Light-kun.'
He ignored the Chief's frantic, warning gaze. He wasn't scared of a brat.
'Please?'
L looked away when his resolve started relenting, his eyes easily gliding to the side, but he was surprised to notice his hand holding a chocolate cookie out to the kid. So he spoke, 'I'll give you one only if you stop looking at me like as if I killed your puppy.'
He took the biscuit with a smile before attempting to sneer. L deadpanned - maybe his cheeks were too heavy for the sneer to work, because that sneer was just adorable. Wait, no, it wasn't, it was ugly - a movie director would have had him arrested for such a poor attempt.
'I wouldn't get a puppy, I prefer cats,' he said. 'So your words were useless, Sir Detective.'
L looked as though he wanted to roll his eyes.
'But how come you didn't know that?' he demanded suspiciously and forcefully. 'Detectives always figure things out about other people. Are you really one?'
'I have a spyglass, Light,' he sniped. 'And I can uncover fingerprints. Happy?'
The boy took a careful, small bite from the cookie (He didn't drop any crumbs, L observed.) and climbed onto the sofa, settling in beside him. 'No. My dad can do that also,' he said, unimpressed and staring up at him with huge eyes.
Watari walked in, stifling a smile at the sight of L, who looked frustrated, sitting beside a curious kid.
L didn't notice anything except for one thought: Don't get all chummy with me Brat.
The task force had, mercifully, dismissed themselves to their quarters, with Watari who had just walked in to guide them away. Leaving L with the chance to kill the boy, why had he thought he was well mannered again? The brat was not well mannered at all. 'I can shoot my targets perfectly,' he said, in an attempt to awe him into silence. 'That's something only detectives can do.'
'No, that is wrong, Mastuda-san passed the police exams this year, Father said he shot 250 out of 250 targets bullseye, and 100 of them were moving targets.'
That was something L was well-aware of. 'Oh? I didn't know, Light-kun.'
The boy smiled at him, his eyes warm and friendly, L sourly noticed that the boy's fondness for him was growing. The more he looked at him, the more he wanted to smile happily (God forbid) with him. It was like an infectious disease. L also suddenly felt like pinching his cheeks or ruffling his head of blonde hair. He was cute. L had to admit it. Very cute. He wondered briefly if this was like having a small brother.
If Light was his small brother L would prance around with him, just to show off what a cute sibling he had. L blinked at that sudden thought.
'May I have another?'
L blinked, quite confused, what? He didn't fail to notice that the boy used "May I" instead of "Can I" like many kids had the bad habit of saying. He looked at Light. The boy was looking eagerly at the package still in his hand. Oh no. No. No, no. 'No, Light, there's only one left. And it's mine. Mine alone.'
He looked away sadly. Making L feel remorseful. L glared at him (not that anyone could even tell the difference if they tried to).
The boy huffed and crossed his arms. 'I'm bored.'
So he was attempting to act nonchalant, L could read him like a book. Which made him feel worse. Somehow. 'I can't say I'm sorry about that, but you'll have to live with it.'
'Don't you have any books?'
'Books?'
He nodded. 'Tousan reads to me when he's home.'
'I'll not read to you, Light-kun.'
The boy's eyes turned to look at him. 'I was going to ask Tousan to read to me. Not you. You probly don't know how to make stories fun, or read. I probly could read better by myself ayways,' he said, mispronouncing several words.
L didn't know what was wrong with him, but the kid riled him up just as much as his older self did. 'I can read fluently in over twenty-one different languages Light-kun. And Japanese is only one of them.'
Light was impressed, temporarily forgetting his earlier demand. 'Woah, really?! That is very nice, Sir Detective.'
L felt his chest swell up by itself. There was just something awesome about impressing children. L placed the whole cookie in his mouth. 'Say, Light-kun, how many languages do you know?' Older Light knew 13 languages fluently, and five more (but those were quite rusty), a fact the boy was secretly proud of. L knew over forty seven languages. Fluently. So that wasn't impressive.
'I speak Thai, from one of my neighbours, and French from Madame Rosier, the library lady,' he sat up straighter. 'My mom also speaks English with me at home, my mother's mother,' he giggled ridiculously at that, 'Is from Eye-land, and they speak English.'
Eyeland? L could have smacked his forehead. If older Light could see himself right now. 'Ireland, you mean to say.'
He beamed. 'Yes! How did you know?'
'I'm a detective,' he said, feeling the need to make sure the brat understood that.
'My dad-'
'Don't start with tales on your dad, I know quite a lot about the Chief already,' he interrupted impatiently.
...
'It's natural, Ryūzaki,' Watari said. 'Yagami is his hero, of course he'll take every chance he has to lower your rank. Especially after the Chief praised you.'
'He was one queer thing.'
'He's a child, L. You need patience with those.'
'Maybe it is just one of his plans, Watari.' L groused, watching the boy. 'I wonder how he turned into this.'
'You could ask him when he turns back.'
Light sighed happily.
'If he turns back.'
Watari sighed. 'You do know that either way, the child would get restless staying in the building right.'
'I'm not letting the Kira suspect out of my sight.'
'I know.'
'And people might inquire after him,' he stated. 'We can't let anyone know what happened.'
'I'll be leaving now,' Watari said, standing up. 'Children need a lot of necessities, some shopping is due.'
'You just like taking care of kids.'
Watari smiled. 'I admit, I do have a soft spot for children. Especially the genii kids.'
'Smarty-pants, you mean.'
'Considering Light's Yagami IQ is higher than yours, you can call him that.'
L watched him leave before turning back to the suspect, who was sleeping without a care in the world. Peacefully. L felt envious for a moment. But it was soon replaced with something akin to endearment, I mean, who wouldn't? staring at an absolutely cute child sleep. It was something inexinexplicably sweet and different for everyone. It briefly made him wish Light was his son.
He would be the envy of all parents, L smirked. I bet Mrs Yagami had been so. Grey eyes soon turned back to the boy.
He had forgone resting his head on the pillow and was instead clutching it lovingly. L wasn't sure the sentiment was returned to him by the object - he was drooling on the clean pillow. The slight curls at the corners of his mouth gave off the impression of smiling. Tch, he was probably dreaming of detective unicorns or something, L thought. A sour side of L contemplated putting him back in the cell, just to see how he'd like to sleep in the room. We'll see who was slumbering like an angel in the clouds. But he decided he preferred the blissful expression on his face. It was absolutely charming.
L felt convinced he would have melted if he was a slab of butter.
...
Light looked at his breakfast. Looked at Ryūzaki - as he was informed his name was. Looked back at it. And repeated process.
'Where is Tousan?' he demanded. Feeling quite lonely.
'I gave them a holiday. I think I can manage to keep mini-Kira under my own surveillance.'
'Kira?' he scowled.
'Why are you trying to turn your mouth into a rosebud?' L asked, forking a generous piece of cake into his mouth. 'It isn't attractive.'
His eyebrows dropped angrily. 'Do not call me that.'
'What? Kira?'
He deflated. The kids at school sometimes called him that, along with a few other bright names. 'Yes.'
L blinked at the sombre mood he had taken. 'Ok, but you had better eat that.'
Light looked at the huge bowl of a strange sticky soup. 'What is it?'
'Oatmeal, very tasty, common breakfast,' L replied, cutting himself another slice of cake. Light eyed it with disdain. Ahh, there was the familiar dislike of sweets. 'It is also one of the only things I can cook.'
'Why are you eating cake for breakfast?' Light asked. 'Breakfast is the most inpo... important meal of the day. You need all the vitamins that is in normal food. Not cake.'
'There's plenty of that in it. Eat your breakfast.'
The boy complied, looking at the foreign breakfast warily. L cautiously watched as Light clenched the huge spoon, dipped the spoon in and pulled out a huge glob of oatmeal, which, as predicted, he couldn't fit in his mouth, and chewed. 'It's yucky.'
'I know,' L responded unfeelingly.
Light opened his mouth and hesitated for a bit, he was unsure of his next phrase. 'May I add in sugar?'
'Yes,' L waved his hand. 'Most prefer honey, though.'
His nose scrunched up. 'I don't like honey it's watery.'
'I know.'
'But I like sugar, it is different.'
L stood up and began dumping spoons of sugar into his bowl. So that he could start eating and leave him alone. He roughly mixed the sugar in and sat back down. 'Just eat, ok?'
Light, pleased with the sweetness, began eating, slowly dragging the spoon across the top, it was too hot. 'Hotmeal is a weird porredge,' he said, blowing on the spoon. 'But I like it.'
L gazed at him unflatteringly. 'It's oatmeal, not hotmeal. And porridge, not porredge.' He didn't find those pronunciation mistakes cute at all. Nope.
'Oh, thank you, I made a mistake,' he said. Then, scooting closer to him, the boy peered at the laptop computer on the table. 'What are you doing?'
'None of your business.' He scooted away, trying to ward off the boy with an unnerving glare. Dammit I'm not a comforter!
L flinched when he butted his arm over his head with his brow and peered at the screen closer. The contact was too sudden, he wasn't one for such warm gestures. 'Boring, don't you know how to use a computer? The lady on the computer is only painting her nails.'
'If you were expecting games, then I'm not sorry to disappoint you, I hate computer games.'
'I thought you would be talking to someone, my mother always lets me see grandad on the computer. That is fun, never boring. He tells me about the war,' he explained.
L didn't fail to notice that the boy had somehow eased his leg down to use it as a table for his bowl of oatmeal. The bottom was hot, kid! L wanted to reprimand him, but he looked so happy with everything that the cold detective didn't want to ruin the brightness in his eyes.
'His uncle was a kamikaze soldier!'
His head was now tucked beneath his arm. L blinked slowly, something that was highly unnecessary because his eyes were a bit dry and blinking didn't help. At all. But he had had enough with the kid, making him feel all chummy with everything. 'Kid. Remove yourself and food from my lap, I am not a table, or your pillow.'
He didn't budge. 'Unless you let me see Tousan and Kāsan, then I'll move, and Baby Sayu. I want to see Baby Sayu specially,' he bargained. Then, forgetting his bargain he said, 'I'm a big brother, Sir Detective.'
L wanted to shove his head into his breakfast, just to see how he liked the heat (but that would burn his face, and that would hassle him more than the contact-friendly boy trying to comfort himself). 'I know. Now will you move?'
He craned his head, resting back on L's chest,'Not until you say yes.'
How did Light turn from this strange friendly (mean little rascal of a) child into a calculating, scheming Kira? 'I won't.'
'Then I won't move. I like it like this,' he concluded. 'But Detective-san doesn't seem to want my cheering up.'
'Cheering up?' L repeated, closing the window onscreen when Misa began pulling off her shirt.
'You are tired. I am trying to help. Mother gives me a hug and kiss when I am sad,' he said wisely, closing heavy eyelids. 'But I wouldn't kiss you, you're a thin meany, but you don't smile, mother says I should always help people smile. Like Baby Sayu,' he smiled dreamily, 'now she's smiling more than when she was all pink and folded with no hair. And she is beautiful, I like her hair, it is so black like, like.. a pretty cat's hair?'
L blinked, again as the boy rambled on (if this continued, he'll become sleepy). He looked tired? And didn't smile? Well, of course, L avoided sleeping and saw no use in displaying emotion.
'But you really need to comb your hair. Mother said if you don't comb your, baby rats will form in your hair.'
'That's ridiculous.'
Light, surprised out of his rant, let go of the bowl, which slid off his leg and landed with a "tap" on the sofa, the boys eyes widened to the size of daisies. L's eyes watered instinctively when the porridge spilled out and pooled on the seat.
Light, wisely, scampered away (L couldn't help but sourly notice that he ate the oatmeal left on the spoon, cheeky brat), an apology lingering behind him.
L slowly stood up, luckily the jeans had absorbed some of the porridge's heat. But. But.
His rump was burnt! How was he going to seat himself anymore?
That kid was dead. So dead. L didn't care if he had a baby face and cute giggle that would haunt him later. He was going to strangle the kid till he was blue then drown him in a tub of hot water.
'Light Yagami!'
Blonde hair ducked behind a sofa.
...
I know it's crappy, help me improve by commenting, my only friend isn't very helpful. Light's day has only begun, too. I'm trying to portray him as a soft-tempered child who changes moods easily.