'My son cannot be Kira, Ryūzaki,' the Chief stated. 'There has got to be another explanation.'
'Then who?' L asked, his brain numb with how long he had been discussing the matter with the Task Force. They had gathered for a discussion, after the room had been spooked silly with the disappearing apples. 'If not him?'
Aizawa, firm as a mountain and L's only ally (albeit a weak one) said, 'One has to admit that things that happened around the boy are simply unnatural..'
Matsuda had a pinched look about his face, as though saying "When has anything concerning the Yagami men ever been natural?"
L wanted to growl at them, why couldn't they just think? for once. Light was Kira! all this cute metamorphose was just part of his big plan (a stupid one, at that) to prove himself "not guilty." If Light was not Kira (as his doting father insisted), then the only other explanation L came up with was that Light was targeted (or haunted) by something else. Whether it was Kira (or some sort of supernatural spirit) was something he had considered considering, but couldn't really because just why would a busy mass murderer simply curse an annoying pretty boy? Because the boy had scored higher than him during the exams? L sincerely doubted that. There was also another logical theory, since the murders had completely stopped: Light was Kira (as L gathered) and somehow he got cursed, or something, and really was a kid - explaining why he wasn't murdering people. 'Light-kun also seems to be displaying paranormal abilities..'
Matsuda said, 'So you're saying that he has the powers to kill-'
A squeal from the next room unfortunately (or fortunately, because the man just loved arguing with him) cut Matsuda's speech short. They all stared at whatever they were looking at for a moment longer, slightly surprised - that was Rai-chan's voice. Then their eyes all turned to look at the curtains hiding the next room. L froze (for a mere second) after he remembered that the next room connected to (it was, in fact) a balcony. What was the child doing, for Pete's sake?! Not that he knew any Petes, but! the boy might really just give him a heart attack without actually intending to. Why did Light suddenly squeal? what in the world was there to squeal at when you're on a balcony.
They all seemed to remember the railing that went round the balcony at the same time, the metal bars with huge enough spaces in between for even Matsuda to slip through easily gleaming in their mind's eye.
Security railing, in deed.
L dropped his feet to the ground as the others stood up and walked forth, his cold grey eyes scanning the curtains that hid the glass balcony doors from sight. Light was proving himself to be a real problem, why was he always popping up everywhere and distracting them from their jobs?
He was displeased when the others scrambled forward faster than him. It would make one think that he didn't care what had, or was happening to Light (not that he really did, he was just contemplating what his situation looked like - as a good, observant detective). L walked onto the warm balcony, expecting everyone to be crowded on the balcony, staring out and down at a bloody mess of Light meat. They were crowded on the balcony, but Light was still standing there, body fully intact, his face glowing.
L nearly raised a brow. Great.
Light was clutching a tabby cat, running his hand over it's back lovingly, nuzzling it to his cheek affectionately, his cheeks warm with utter loving awe. L, then and there, decided that the scene was absolutely not worth cutting their discussion short, even though one would have wanted to capture it into a photo and keep it forever.
What a fat, unhealthy cat, L grumbled. Watching as Light walked up to his father, stretched his arms out and presented it to him. The cat swished it's tail across Light's face, making him flinch and giggle.
Had it fallen from the sky? L doubted that, it was plainly impossible for such an unhealthy, overweight cat to fall from the heavens.
'Where did you get the cat, Rai-chan?' Aizawa asked, suspiciously, he was still freaked out from the display "My friend Ryūku" had put on earlier.
The Chief seconded the question, his eyes on the collar and name tag wrapped round the tabby's furry neck.
He stole it, L gathered logically. What else? He inwardly shook his head lamentably. Oh, Kira, how low you've sunk. Going as far as catnapping some fat cat?
'Ryūku got her for me,' he said proudly.
The Chief shifted uneasily, no one was comfortable with the mention of that abnormal name.
'You stole someone's cat?' L said, unable to stand there quietly any longer.
Light turned to him. 'No,' he denied. Light turned back to the Chief, pointing at a balcony of a building diagonally across from them. 'I saw her over there, all alone, so Ryūku decided to get her for me, do not worry he will return her.'
Oh joy, L thought. He pulled a cat over here with his tele-abilities. Let's just hope anyone who saw a floating cat thinks that it was just their imagination, L didn't want to attract attention to his building. And the cat was a boy, Light-kun, not a girl. 'Return him back, Light-kun,' L ordered.
'I want a cat,' he pouted. 'So that I can play with it.'
The Chief sighed, Aizawa smirked and Matsuda smiled. Mogi and L seemed to be the only ones who didn't know anything about when Light got a cat in his grasp.
'How does one play with a cat?' L asked. Cats were quite useless, if you asked him, dogs were a better choice.
Light let the cat lay lazily on his shoulder, it's claws hanging down and gripping the boy's breast pocket, it's tail snaking round his neck, pleasing the boy. Light smiled, displaying two rows of white teeth and brightening the day. 'I will play with it,' he explained shortly.
'Secret cave?' L asked, not knowing where the want to tease the boy came from.
'No,' he said, his tone seriously haughty. He gave L a slow look, his heavy lashes blinking slowly. 'What a childish game.'
L's cold grey eyes stared at the boy flatly, making him squirm slightly. This boy...
Ryūk chuckled. 'Hey, Light-o,' he called.
The boy looked at him expectantly. 'Yes, Ryūku?' he answered.
Aizawa shifted uncomfortably, his eyes dancing to the balcony doors and waving curtains. Ryūk chuckled at them.
Matsuda inched backwards, a sudden chill between his shoulders. 'I - I'll go check out the Ki..ra murder patterns, I think I had noticed something.'
The Chief raised an eyebrow at him, following him into the room, Aizawa easily following them, Mogi not far behind. They had already made sure that Light was safe, right? Only L stayed, staring at the wall Light was looking at, his curiosity urging him to still.
'They don't seem too happy with the cat,' he said. 'Plus its owner might be looking for it.'
'Oh,' Light said, dejectedly.
'Give it to me,' he said, one eye trained on the pale detective.
Light detached the cat from himself, running his hands over its clean fur and handed the unfazed cat, who was easily glaring at Ryūk, to the apple-loving shinigami.
Miuuhuhuhhuhu! Ryūk cackled inwardly. Spreading his wings and dropping feathers, his eyes rolling to the detective. Ryūk was disappointed when the pale human didn't react, his huge eyes not even blinking, instead he tilted his head in an extremely annoying way and began eating his finger. Ryūk could bet the cat that the dude's fingertip was not even tasty. React, or do something! Ryūk flew off the balcony, pausing to see if the dude would finally freak out or something.
Ryūk flapped his wings agitatedly, say something, dammit!
'Light-chan, I advise you to tell your friend Ryūk to hurry up.'
Light nodded and gestured. 'Hurry up, Ryūku,' he said, a smile on his face.
What am I? Your errand shinigami? Ryūk thought, glaring at the detective. Let's see if you like having your food eaten by something you cannot see. Ryūk flew over, noticing the small smirk the vitamin D lacking frog sent him as he said something to Light.
Light and L walked inside the building, Light holding the thin detective's hand and skipping enthusiastically alongside him.
L nearly breathed a sigh of relief when they entered the building, his nerves fraying. There was absolutely no way he could continue lying to himself now, it was simple, Light was haunted by something. A shinigami, to be exact. Kira had once told him that shinigami ate apples. If the invisible thing ate apples and had wings, then it just had to be a shinigami. L's grey eyes went nervously around the room, Light leading him to the television, where he crossed his arms and gestured eagerly with his eyes. L couldn't completely stem the nervous feeling that was pooling in his stomach.
Taking a deep, quiet breath, L set up the movie for the younger Yagami, a thrill of happiness running through him when Light hugged his knees in thanks.
Ryūk dropped the cat onto the chair it had been occupying earlier with a plop, dejectedly spreading his wings and gliding back to and into the building.
...
L was going to cook.
He actually really was going to cook, and it wasn't oatmeal porridge. Nor was it a pot of coffee.
He was going to cook, cook something real, something to eat. Could you imagine him doing that? Detective L was going to cook a real meal, something steaming real, a full bowl of food.
The detective always did this for a reason, now and then. He always cooked something to eat right before he was going to take a shower (about every other day, or so). L would then place it on the table to cool as he took his shower, so that when he was all clean and ready to eat, he would find the meal cold. He had found, strangely, that after having taken a bath (or shower) he liked eating something cold, most preferably something that wasn't really a dessert or snack, something really healthy. It always made him feel important and thoroughly refreshed.
L peeled the seal off the container and emptied the contents into a bowl, his other hand's fingers already reaching for another object expertly - his concentration was unparalleled. The Great L was going to cook - beware, thou common peasants. L grabbed a fork.
'What are you doing, Sir Ryū?' a voice piped up behind him.
L, a bit startled, didn't react to Light's presence, merely taking a saucepan of boiling water off the stove and pouring it slowly over the ingredients in his bowl. When he'd finished pouring the liquid, he poked the ingredients carefully - this was far from over. The process had just began... L turned around and looked down at Light. 'I am cooking,' he announced, proudly.
Light glanced around the kitchen, his eyes scanning the appliances around the kitchen with a doubtful glint shining in them. L glared at him, he didn't need to look so doubting. The boy reached over and grabbed an empty container curiously, turnitut around in his hand and reading it easily, surprising L - he himself used to struggle with mere katakana, how did the little twerp read that kanji easily?
'Kumogawa Instant Ramen...'
A pair of eyes looked up at L, the bright lights hanging round the kitchen twinkling in the orange. L stared at him, his grey eyes now matte black, the lights glinting off his messy locks of black hair. Light stared back at him, the lights making his pale skin a ghostly white.
'I thought you said you were cooking,' Light accused, his huge eyes making L feel guilty of something.
'I am cooking, Light-chan,' he said.
The boy stared at him.
'I said I was cooking,' L began, unable to continue staring into the boy's eyes. 'I did not say I was performing the culinary arts - there is a difference. A grand difference.'
Light was still staring at him.
'Cooking,' he continued, trying to justify his words. 'Means cooking. Here I am cooking the ingredients in hot water. Cooking merely means mellowing something using heat - which is exactly what I am doing right here, Light. You're the one at fault for having immediately assumed I would be replicating some culinary skills when I said I was going to cook.'
The boy was still staring at him.
'Aren't you supposed to be in bed?' he demanded, exasperated.
Light stared at him for a moment longer before letting it go. 'Are you going to give me some of what you are cooking?' he said.
L glared at him. 'No,' he replied. This was a sort of sacred ritual he always performed! no way L was letting the boy destroy the tradition he had been keeping up for almost a full year. L scanned his pajama-ed frame, nearly huffing at the striped pattern - he looked like an old-fashioned prisoner. 'And you should be in bed, not standing here.'
'I am hungry, Sir Ryū,' he said, not budging. 'I cannot go to sleep.'
L deliberately glanced around the room, his eyes on the shelves and cupboards, as though saying "help yourself, the kitchen is full of food."
'I want real food,' he muttered.
L looked at him coldly saying, 'Then open the fridge.'
Or was it a refrigerator? L didn't know. Why there was two (or three, there was also something called a freezer, right?) different names didn't make sense - they were both machines that kept things from rotting.
Light crossed his arms stubbornly. 'I do not feel like eating cake before sleeping.'
Then starve, L thought dismissively turning around with a mental roll of his eyes. He had to go get that shower. Something tugged his sleeve, making L turn back around to look down at the boy.
'I am hungry, Sir Ryū,' he said softly. 'Will you please give me some? Please?'
The look Light gave him through his lashes could have melted stone, L swallowed dryly. Light grabbed the end of his shirt, tugged the material and wrapping it around his fingers. No, not this again. L turned back around hastily before his crumbling resolve fell in pieces.
'Please, Ryū,' he wheedled out, making L feel as though he was stealing fish from a starving kitten or, in other words, a shameless jerk.
'But you go to bed once you finish eating,' L complied.
Light smiled, making L feel better about it. The detective walked around the place, his cold feet going more numb as he padded across the cold floor. He briefly considered cooking for him a pot of oatmeal - it was easier, then decided against it and took out a pan. Placing it over heat, he cracked half a dozen eggs into the pan.
Seems that he really was going to cook, after all.
L grabbed a spoon and bagan scraping the eggs off the bottom, watching with wonder as the yolks broke, turning the mess into a huger mess. L scraped and scraped, resolved to not let it burn, the eggs turning into an unidentifiable mass. Light giggled softly from where he stood, behind him. L continued scraping, perplexed with the egg dish which was soft and half-cooked, yet slightly charred. Light, standing on a chair, peeped at the pan and began giggling again.
L deadpanned.
Light giggled again.
L wisely decided to turn off the heat and stopped suffering the poor pan of eggs. He pulled out a plate and scraped the mass onto it, taking a glass and pouring chocolate milk into it, he then put the food on the table, before the boy. He added two cupcakes and a spoon to the dish. 'Here, your dessert.'
Light glanced at his dinner.
'What, you want salt?' L demanded.
Light shook his head, a smile splitting open on his face. 'Thank you, Sir.'
L wanted to smile. 'Just eat.'
The boy ate slowly, soundlessly, making L (who was watching) feel hungry. The man glanced at his bowl of instant ramen, temptation wrapping her claws round his mind. He was feeling hungry. Light sipped from his cup of milk. L finally sighed, and pulled out the other chair, seating himself with resignation. L leaned his chair back, grabbed the bowl and placed it in front of himself, his hand reaching for a fork. He pulled his feet up and crossed his legs on the seat, and began eating.
Sometimes it was better to eat it while it was still steaming. As L ate he decided that he should, most definitely, do this again. It was nice, eating dinner with someone. L didn't even realise that he had finished eating his noodles until his fork hit the bottom of the bowl with a clink! L glanced to the side at Light, who had long finished eating and was staring at him with a sleepy frown.
'You slouch too much, Ryū,' he said. 'And you duck your head to meet your food.'
Yep. He was definitely going to do this again. It felt nice and made L feel all warm and chummy inside his chest, and this time he welcomed the feeling. L sat there, reluctant to stand up and ruin his mood. Light yawned, making L glance at him.
L stood up and turned to face Light, spreading his hands. The kid stared at him blankly, another yawn cracking his jaw open. L yawned after watching Light yawn, big and long, his chin almost touching his neck and his nostrils flaring. Light snickered at him. L glared at him and gestured his hands impatiently. Light, a mischievous smile tucked into his cheek, tilted his head in mock-confusion. L glared at him and dropped his hands, turning back to his bowl.
'Okay, I am sorry, Ryū,' Light said, opening his arms. 'Up, Ryū. Up.'
L turned around, trying to decide whether he should do it or not. He glanced at Light and made up his mind.
'Come here,' he said, leaning over and hauling the boy up into his arms. 'Little rascal.'
Light wrapped his arms round L's neck, a sleepy grin on his face. 'I knew you were kind, Ryū.'
L walked out of the room slowly. 'I thought I was a thin, creepy, mean, unhealthy, frog.'
'You still are,' Light replied. 'But you need to add kind to the list.'
'I see,' L muttered.
Light let his head drop onto L's shoulder. 'If I had a big brother,' he began, slowly. 'I would like him to be exactly like you, Ryū.'
L didn't answer, merely walking forward without delay, prompting Light to fall asleep. But as he dropped the kid on the bed and roughly covered him with the thick blankets, and stepped back, he brought his thumb to his mouth, thinking one thing:
I'm going to adopt this little frog as my small brother.
L turned around to leave, his eyes going down to the scattered clothes the boy had leftvon the ground.
Maybe he won't, after all, because L was always the one left to clean up his mess. L sighed, crouching down and picking up the clothes one by one. A piece of paper fell out of the short's pocket, making the detective tilt his head. L was quite sure Light was not the type to tear pieces of paper and stuff them into his pockets.
So where did this piece of paper come from?
He reached his long fingers forward and grabbed the paper.
Ryūk turned around and glanced at the pale detective - he really did sit like a frog! Hehehe.. wait. . . Ryūk's grin slid off his face. Oh, crap.
The shinigami then shrugged. Oh, well.
...
I'll be editing the story over the week's end.