languor
Lawliet's black hair was frosted with bits of ash, like gray sakura petals.
'You have ash in your hair,' said Light.
Lawliet turned his head to look at him.
'There must be air, here,' continued Light, watching the ash fall gently when Lawliet moved his head, drifting through the air like tiny, downy feathers. 'If there were no air and we were in a vacuum, the ash would not take so long to fall.'
'I don't think physics apply to the afterlife, Kira,' said Lawliet. 'Technically there shouldn't even be an afterlife at all.' He held out a hand, catching particles of ash in his open palm. 'Death, logically, should be the end.'
Light tried to catch the falling ash as well, but the particles escaped when he tried to close his fingers around them. 'Maybe we're in a joint hallucination, then.'
'Maybe,' said Lawliet, holding the ash he'd caught in front of his face to inspect it closer, his absence of breath failing to cast them swirling back up into the air.
'If that's the case,' said Light, watching Lawliet bend his wrist backwards at an awkward angle in order to better examine the particles dusting his palm, 'then there's nothing immoral about me becoming the god of this world.'
Lawliet glanced at him over the heel of his palm, the tips of his awkwardly-curled fingers. 'Kira, as always, has a very interesting perspective on things.'
'You can't tell me that I'm wrong,' said Light.
Reaching out his cupped hand, Lawliet swiveled his wrist and sprinkled the particles of ash over Light's head. 'Now Kira has ash in his hair, as well.'
Light narrowed his eyes and reached up to brush the ash away.
(It was slight, but Lawliet smiled.)