Chapter 2

Speculation

Something happened in the helicopter.

L was sure of it. Ninety eight percent sure. Something important had transpired in the helicopter when Light had touched the magic notebook. The boy had screamed after all. And it hadn't sounded like a scream of terror at seeing the monster Rem. It had sounded like he was in pain. And then Higuchi had conveniently died only a few minutes later.

Was it possible that Light was Kira again?

He knew that Light had been Kira. All of the evidence pointed toward him. He fit the profile perfectly. Even Light had claimed to be uncertain of the fact, asking to be incarcerated. Light had been Kira and somehow the killing power had left him.

The Death Note.

Had the shinigami taken it back when it became clear that Light wasn't going to be doing anything exciting for a while? He got the distinct impression that Rem wasn't there as a servant. But he also got the impression that Rem didn't know Light. Either that, or the shinigami was an adequate enough actor to fool him. If Rem wasn't familiar with Light, then it seemed to disprove his suspicions.

There was also that rule they had found in the back of the notebook. If Kira didn't kill another person within thirteen days, he'd die. He'd incarcerated Light and Misa both for fifty days, well over the thirteen day limit and both of them were alive and well.

So that meant . . .

Either he was wrong about Light being Kira, the rule was fake, or Light had discovered some kind of obscure loophole to avoid dying while in detention.

He glanced at Light, sitting next to him on the sofa as the entire task force engaged in staring mutely at Rem. The entire task force except Light and himself. Light's eyes were fixed on the Death Note. As terrifying as the shinigami may be, the true source of Kira's killing power was that nondescript black book. No wonder it had taken them so long to figure it out. Aside from the fact that killing people by simply writing their names down was more than a little bizarre, the murder weapon was something that could have been found in any house, office or school. Who would think twice about someone carrying around a black covered notebook? It wasn't like they were carrying a gun, after all.

Light looked . . . queasy, for lack of a better word. His face was ashen and his body language was slumped in on itself. It looked like he wanted to just curl up into a ball and die somewhere. The fact that Light had let his guard down enough to reveal his vulnerability through his shattered veneer was indicator enough that something was very wrong with the boy.

Light kept toying with his wrist, rubbing his long fingers around the place where they had until so recently been attached. L wondered if the cuff had hurt him, but the skin looked unmarred. So, it was a nervous tic then? In truth, he didn't quite know what to make of Light's behavior.

The boy had always exercised such a strict level of control over his actions, not only his speech, but his body language as well. That that control had failed him was alarming. Was it an act? Was this some kind of ploy designed to trick him somehow? Or had something really broken the teen's spirit?

The thought of anything actually breaking Light was almost inconceivable. Even during his incarceration, Light hadn't let this much slip through his defenses. Even knowing he was the primary suspect of the Kira investigation hadn't rattled him this much. No, the only time it had ever come close to this naked vulnerability was when he'd asked the boy's father to stage his execution. In those few seconds of unpolished, unthinking terror at being faced with his own death, he'd let all of his masks and machinations slip away and L had thought he'd seen the real Light Yagami.

This was the real Light Yagami.

He knew it instinctively. This broken looking young man next to him was what lay beneath the carefully constructed exterior he presented to the world. Granted, L doubted Light was usually this broken up inside.

Why?

What had happened in the helicopter?

He wished he'd never relinquished the book over to Light. That had been a very foolish thing to do. Despite the fact that Higuchi had thoroughly confessed to killing people with the notebook and the fact that they had quite conclusively proven that Higuchi was Kira – or a Kira – L still suspected Light. How could he not?

Perhaps it was his own arrogance that wanted to make Light into Kira?

Who else would have been able to elude capture for so long? Who else would have been able to play this game with him? Who else could be the mastermind behind the whole Kira conspiracy? It had to be Light. He had never in his life met anyone else capable of mentally sparring with him like Light did. Light was the only one able to stand against him. He just needed the proof.

"Are you alright, Light-kun? You look ill." L asked in his usual monotone, shrewdly watching for a reaction.

Light blinked slowly and glanced around as though just noticing for the first time where he was. He turned his head slowly and stared at L. It was disconcerting for a moment, then the teen snapped out of it and his facade was back in place, making him look tired and a little frustrated.

"Yeah, I'm alright. I'm just a little disheartened that Higuchi died. Do you think that the notebook kills the user if they get captured?" He suggested, using that incredibly annoying innocent tone that made L want to kick him in the face.

"If that were the case, you would already have died when we imprisoned you." He sniped, not really expecting a reaction. He'd voiced his suspicions of Light too many times and desensitized him to the accusation.

To his surprise, however, Light went a little pale and glanced away. "That again?" He mumbled and drew his knees up to his chest in a manner that was eerily similar to L's own posture. Had he rubbed off on Light? He'd expounded on the benefits of the stance countless times but Light had always rolled his eyes or shook his head and tuned him out.

No, this wasn't an imitation. This was more of an upright fetal position. Light's arms were wrapped tightly around his knees, compacting him into a little ball of upset humanity. This was a comfort position. This was Light trying to comfort himself.

It made L uncomfortable.

He was used to the brash, arrogant teen being . . . well, brash and arrogant. He didn't like seeing Light insecure. It was a marked variation in his behavior that practically screamed at him. He couldn't ignore it but he didn't know whether or not to take advantage of it. He still suspected Light of being Kira. He could use this opportunity to interrogate the teen and hope that he'd slip up.

But that seemed especially cruel and heartless, even for him. After all, Light had probably never seen anyone die in front of him before. His first corpse. Death and seeing people die did strange things to the human psyche. It was possible that was all this was about and pushing on Light now might cause irreparable harm to that beautiful mind of his. That was unacceptable as there was still a two percent chance that Light wasn't Kira.

"Are you sure you are okay? Perhaps you should go to bed. I know how you require your strict eight hours of sleep per night." L pressed. The teen was frighteningly regimented when it came to his sleeping schedule. And it was way past Light's usual bed time. They'd returned from their exciting helicopter chase to meticulously comb through the Death Note and interrogate the shinigami. Not that the creature had proven very useful. She – it, as he refused to give it a gender out of spite – had refused to answer most of his questions.

Light glanced over at the clock on the wall uncomprehendingly for a moment before a flicker of surprise crossed his features. " . . . I guess you're right. I didn't realize so much time had passed. I guess I'll . . . um." He said as he stood up and ran his hands over his shirt to get rid of the imaginary wrinkles.

'Um' wasn't a usual resident of Light's prolific vocabulary. The teen always took the time to carefully think through everything he wanted to say before delivering it with crisp confidence. He was also rubbing his wrist again.

"You may rest in the room we used to share or you can commandeer any other room that appeals to your tastes." L said softly, hazarding a guess at the source of Light's current discomfort. Light had never been given his own room at headquarters. Before his incarceration, he had lived at this parents home and afterward, they had shared a room.

Light's lip twitched in the barest approximation of a frown. "You know, it's almost scary how well you know me, Ryuzaki." He said, hiding his gaze behind his hair – another very unusual behavior. Light was vain and liked people to see him. "But not as scary as how well I know you." He added quieter so only he could hear.

What did that mean?

His gaze narrowed as he followed Light's retreating figure with his eyes. What was that? A threat? A hint? Or was he reading too much into it and it was just regular shit talking? Was it supposed to rattle him? He was annoyed by the fact that it had rattled him – just a little.

He was L after all. No one knew him. Not even Watari could predict his actions and the man had practically raised him since he was a child. But if anyone could claim that they really knew him, it had to be Light. He had never had to explain himself to Light - he had never let his paranoia slip far enoug to let the other know what he was think ing- it was just the simple fact that Light thought in the same way as he did.

He pulled his gaze away from Light at the sound of someone shifting uncomfortably. Soichiro was staring after his son with a concerned, pitying expression on his face. He waited until Light was out of earshot before he began making excuses for him.

"Light's . . . never really seen death before. We haven't had a death in the family since he was born." Soichiro explained softly with a worried frown on his lips. "He'll get over it."

Interesting.

L unconsciously recalculated Light's Kira percentage a little higher. He had thought from the beginning that the way Kira killed without hesitation might have spawned from the absence of seeing people die first hand. After all, Kira could kill from a distance. There was no need for him to be present to witness the pitiful sight of the useless casing that had once hosted someone's consciousness and personality. If Light had never seen anyone die before, using the Death Note might have enabled him to kill without desensitizing him to the sight of a body. It was probably what had allowed him to keep his sanity.

But even as he thought this, firming up his suspicions about Light, another part of his mind began the counter-argument. He was ninety-five percent sure that Kira had been on the same train as Raye Penber when he'd died. Ostensibly, Kira would have stuck around to witness the body. So, if Light was Kira, then it wouldn't be the first time he'd witnessed death first hand. So then . . . was it possible Light wasn't Kira? Or did he not remember being Kira? L still liked that theory.

If Light was Kira but didn't remember being Kira, it solved so many of the little, inexplicable discrepancies that punched holes in his theories. It explained how Light could investigate Kira and implicate himself in those periods of time when they tossed theories back and forth to each other. It explained the change that had come over him during his incarceration, the almost oozing innocence that the teen had suddenly adopted. It also explained why a genius like Light would put up with someone as incompatible to him as Misa Amane.

L was so caught up in his thoughts that he barely noticed when the rest of the task force mumbled their goodbyes and retired for the evening a indeterminate amount of time later. He stared at the notebook - an awful weapon of mass murder - and the silent sentinel that stood nearby it, in mute contemplation.

Light was upset. Either something strange and supernatural had happened in the helicopter, or the teen was genuinely disturbed by witnessing Higuchi's death. It didn't matter. The cause of Light's distress was certainly important, but it didn't really affect the appropriate course of action in response. Whether or not Light was Kira, it wasn't prudent to leave him alone in his current state of mind.

He needed to be monitored in case he did something drastic, and security footage just wasn't going to cut it. Light needed to know there was someone close by watching him. If he was Kira, it would apply pressure and hopefully make him slip. If he wasn't then . . . well, maybe he would think of it as comforting.

He pulled out his phone, "Watari, please take the Death Note and put it in the high security vault. Thank you."

It was time to go see Light.

AN: Thanks very much to my readers and reviewers. I really appreciate your interest in this story. I apologize about there being so little dialog, but L's not really the best conversationalist and Light's not in any frame of mind to chat at the moment. The next chapter is already mostly written and is just waiting for me to go through it again and edit it. It should be up in a few more days.

Thank you very much for reading,

Allora