DS
Disclaimer: I live in Montana. I own a missile silo. Be afraid. Be very afraid…
Chibi Raito: Not like we're threatening you via the internet or anything.
Chibi Misa: Because we don't exactly know who you are.
Me: Anyhow. Welcome to another chapter of Death and His Shadow, in which our dear friend Matt makes his lovely first appearance. There's not much of DN!Matt to work from except his love of electronics, so I'm basing his personality off of one scene in the anime: His car-chase scene. Matt seems like the kind of guy who jokes around with strangers and friends alike.
Chibi Raito: We also got a review from an anonymous reviewer asking why myself and L couldn't live for thousands of years and stuff.
Me: Well, here's your answer. They can. Time runs differently in psycho-suburbia. Near and Mello made a few trips there in the past… and if I reveal any more, I'm ruining the plot. So yes. There's your answer.
Chibi Matt: Whatever.
Chibi L: Indeed. Before we bore you to death, here's your chapter. Enjoy.
Chibi Misa: Read, review, and relax!
D S 16
Raito Yagami awoke in the middle of the night to the pleasant sound of "DIE, DAMN YOU, DIE!!"
He tossed his blankets away, leaned his weight on one elbow, and glared down the length of his bed where, sitting on the floor, there were two mini-deaths engaged in a life-or-death game of Wii Play Tennis.
Matt hadn't taken the hint that night when Raito politely refused his demands to be shown around the house. The unpleasant mini-death eyed Raito's warning for a moment or two before deciding that it was neither shiny nor tasty enough to be of any use to him. Regardless of his voluntary insolence, Matt agreed to leave Kira and Ryuzaki alone. They were left to their own antics and Raito slept for a while.
Only to be jolted awake by this.
"Dammit, L, you gotta' swing the controller! Like this!"
"But… what about the buttons?"
"I don't give a shit about the buttons! Swing the goddamn controller!"
"But I might break something."
"Fuckin dumbass," Matt mumbled. There was a complaint from Ryuzaki thrown in amongst the terrifying sound of a psychopomp-scuffle. "Shit, bitch…" swore Matt, "There! You put the," mumble, grumble, "Thing around your hand like this. No! Fucker!" Grumble, grouse, "Thaaat's right, dumbass. Around your fuckin' wrist."
THUD!
"FOR CHRIST'S SAKE!"
A wii-mote hit the ground with a dissatisfying thump.
"YOU FUCKIN' LOST!"
Once the wii-mote made its horrifying bang against Raito's floor, footsteps could be heard a few feet downward. Raito swore eloquently before somersaulting out of bed, snatching the sickly wii-mote in one hand and switching two-player mode to the one-player screen. Matt gawped in undisguised hatred. He was about to belt out a cascade of swearwords, and he would have done it too if Soichiro hadn't knocked on the door before poking his balding head in.
"What's going on in here?" he barked.
"Couldn't sleep," Raito lied, bent over the controller and swinging his legs from the foot of his bed. Soichiro frowned at him. "Do you have any idea what time it is?"
"Before three?" Raito guessed.
"Yes."
"I'm a big kid now, dad, I can take care of myself," Kira stated in the glow of a colorful, bouncing Mii.
Soichiro rolled his eyes and left.
This used to be an excerpt from the life of Raito Yagami until he forcibly erased it from his mind. In fact, he'd brainwashed himself so well that he didn't understand why Matt was following him down the street on his way to school the next day and complaining about how human beings didn't know how to have fun anymore. Partially because he denied knowing anything about Matt's sudden dislike of humans, Raito ignored him. Eventually, Matt clicked his tongue, blew a cloud of cancer in Kira's face, and roared off on the Red Horse of War.
"He's going to find a parking garage," muttered Ryuzaki disdainfully. "He will not leave us alone. I fear the worst."
"What a ray of sunshine you are," grumbled Raito. Of course, the angry brunette wasn't entirely opposed to Matt's presence. The mini-death was an intriguing subject, if an occasionally annoying one. Though he seemed like an attention-deprived man, Matt's constant, airy mutterings seemed more like a whimsical and deliberate attempt to get a rise out of Raito. It was an invasive personality quiz. Raito could only hope he was scoring well.
That, and Matt would stop bugging him soon.
No such luck.
Evidently, Ryuzaki's foresight was as sharp as it had ever been. Matt was casually waiting for the two of them near To-Oh's illustrious landmark sign. His foresight seemed keen as well since the glowing embers of his cancer-sticks were nowhere in sight.
Matt offered Ryuzaki a politely half-lidded salute. Ryuzaki glared at him with blank, charcoal eyes. The brunette mini-death then tapped his heels together and donned an English accent. "Good day to you, old sport," he hummed to Raito.
Raito calmly swiped his cell-phone out of his pocket. "You're annoying," he whistled into the receiver.
"Is it a trend?" hummed Matt.
"Considering that both you and Ryuzaki bug the hell out of me…"
"Now you're just showing off," muttered Ryuzaki.
"Then it's a trend. And if it's a trend, then yes, I agree. I'm very trendy and I'm very annoying."
"I beg your pardon," deadpanned a slouching mini-death (though Raito secretly knew that an angry Ryuzaki begged for nothing), "but your fashion sense is worse than mine."
"No-vone's fashion sense is vorse zan jours," Matt remarked in a flowery Sven accent, "Sorry, sveetie."
"Really?" grumbled the sulking Ryuzaki.
"Oh, ja!" snorted Matt, "ze vurst I have evar seen!"
"The accents are annoying," whistled Raito.
"Exactly," hummed Matt. "I am annoying."
"And I'm stuck with you?" asked Raito.
"Not stuck. Think of it as a partnership. You know… a barnacle on a whale. That sort of thing."
"How parasitic of you."
"I suppose so."
"So. A barnacle on a whale. I am stuck with you," sighed Raito.
"Technically, I'm stuck with you. Or on you, as the case may be. But you needn't worry about me, really. I'm just here for the video games."
And now, Raito raised a questioning eyebrow. "Video games?" he quizzed.
"Yeah," sighed Matt. "Electronics in general. I used to play Pac Man and Pong, but everything now is so much cooler. Then, I could hit a pixilated circle between two lines. Now I can play Call of Duty and blow holes in walls."
Raito nodded. Coupled with his delight in being annoying, Matt's love of video games explained last night's fiasco perfectly.
The fiasco which he thought he'd erased from his mind.
Dammit.
In any case, as he neared the building, Raito dismissed both Matt and Ryuzaki. The black-haired mini-death gave Raito one of his more endearing, pleading looks. Kira merely ignored him.
As Matt enthusiastically spiraled through the air and Ryuzaki followed him in a lake of slowly oozing spite, Raito wondered how he'd slip Matt past Halle. The best course of action was not to keep Matt from her, however. Even with the cell-phone trick, he was sure to screw up sooner or later. Caution never favored him at the most important of times. Therefore, Raito would simply admit that he'd found another friend who he suspected wasn't really there.
But then…
There were the drugs.
If Raito was on his drugs and his visions were multiplying, Halle would put him in a funny farm for sure. Perhaps telling her about Matt wasn't such a good idea.
Well, he could try keeping Matt a secret. If Halle somehow found out, Raito didn't know what she'd do. He didn't know what he'd do. Raito didn't like not knowing what to do.
So he sat there as his fellow students filed into the classroom.
And he was very, very angry.
--
Raito had put him in a very bad situation. L could not watch after Matt and watch after Kira at once. Matt didn't seem the type to need looking-after, but something about those devilish ski-goggle-sunglasses bothered L. Something about the way Matt spoke unnerved him. If he was a mini-death, why wasn't he doing his job? How could he just sit here on earth and rip through suburban Tokyo in his Mustang?
How could he love video games so much and not turn into a human?
This, L needed to know.
However, Matt spoke first. "So, how's Kira?"
L raised an inquisitive eyebrow at him. "Terrific," he replied with no enthusiasm at all.
Matt's eyes narrowed whimsically behind the glimmering shades of his sunglasses. "I take it the two of you don't get along."
"One of us tries," L muttered. "You heard him. You and I are both terribly irritating."
"He's not a people-person, is he?" asked Matt from the ceiling.
"He used to be quite sociable, actually. I think it's us he dislikes," replied L from his miserable pool on the floor.
"Ah," hummed Matt. He remained there for a while, sitting criss-cross on the ceiling and staring oddly through his glasses at L. "You like him, don't you?"
"Yes," said L.
"'Yes,'" quoted Matt, "What subtlety."
"There is no 'subtle' with Raito-kun," growled L, "He wouldn't know true affection-"
"If it fucked him in the ass," interjected Matt.
L blinked at him, quite surprised at his sudden vulgarity. Matt gazed likewise downward. "What?" he shrugged.
"Apparently there is no 'subtle' with you either," deadpanned L.
"I like being frank," remarked Matt.
Two could play at this little game, and L found Matt's games quite intriguing. "Well, Frank," he addressed the other mini-death, "that was a bit much if you ask me."
"Who's asking you?" muttered Frank, "And I'm not actually called Frank, you dipshit, I was just… Oh wait. That was a joke!" Matt-called-Frank clapped his hands and whooped loudly, "You aren't boring! You really aren't!"
"Indeed," muttered L. "It's a shame no one else seems to notice."
"Hmm," mused Matt. "Maybe he's too self absorbed."
"If only you knew," muttered L. The mini-death recognized that the conversation had stalled for a moment. Before Matt could ask anything else of him, L decided to strike.
"So how is it that you can drive your car each day and fool around without getting in trouble?" he asked.
"How is it that you can hang around with Tall Dark and Apparently Selfish each day without getting in trouble?" retorted Matt.
The other mini-death had a point, but L always thought that he had only been allowed to stay simply because he could not leave. He had been assigned to take Raito's soul and he couldn't do that until the mortal was dead. So… did that mean…
"You don't have another Kira to look out for, do you?" lamented L.
Matt gave him a wry, devious grin.
And then he snorted a hilarious laugh and fell awkwardly from the ceiling. "You should have seen the look on your face!" he giggled.
L, who was too thoroughly mortified to understand the situation, rasped, "What?"
"No! There aren't any other Kiras here. Just yours." Matt then slithered across the floor and fiddled with his hair against one wall. "I have to report to The Man Upstairs at the end of each human-world day, just like you used to. I have to run around, snatching people's souls, but that doesn't mean I can't have fun while I'm at it."
L's eyebrows raised as his blood pressure took a relieving dive. "So what were you doing climbing through Raito's window last night?"
"I came in after twelve, right? It's a new day. Here I am," shrugged Matt. "Besides, our time runs different anyway."
"Hmm," L relaxed further. He oozed out of the floor and situated himself against the opposite wall. "So then, how do you manage not to turn into a human?"
Matt glared oddly at him with a tilt of the head. "You mean how do I stay like this with my video game addiction?"
"Yes," L replied.
"Simple. I like them just enough, but not too much." Then, Matt blew a puff of air at his bangs and crossed his arms. "That, and there's always something I'll like more. It's gone, though, so I don't really have to worry about it anymore. Kind of a fail-safe."
L blinked at Matt. "Something you like more?"
"Nehhh," Matt waved the idea off with a raspberry and a flick of the wrist. "Forget about it."
Matt's eyes focused on some distant, invisible horizon beyond the hall. L could clearly see that his acquaintance would speak no more on the matter. Instead, he rambled on about something similar.
"The thing is, I'm not really scared of turning into a human. I've been places and I've seen things. Nothing really gets me anymore," yawned Matt.
L's eyes narrowed. Matt had been places and seen things. He wasn't afraid to turn into a human. Of course not.
"You've been a human before, haven't you?" L accused.
Matt's goggles couldn't hide his evident surprise. "Well, I have. Yeah," he blathered, "I deal with heart attacks. That's why I'm here so often. Anyway, my first assignment was in America. I had to deal with some old guy. After that whole spiel, I noticed something in the shop he owned. It was a pawn shop and he sold a lot of portable games. Like I said before, I grew up with Pong and Pac Man. Game Boys were awesome!"
L could tell that Matt was telling the truth.
But it was a very strange truth.
First of all, psychopomps never remembered their first assignments. They, along with L, had existed since the dawn of humanity. L's history had outlived his memory, and so had everyone else's. Second of all, Matt grew up. Psychopomps didn't grow up. They had always existed.
Matt had been alive once.
Even before his previously described escapades, he had been born a human. He had lived as a human. He did all the things humans did.
And he died as a human.
Matt knew what death was like, and so he was unafraid to die.
But… how could a previously living human being become a psychopomp?
Matt went on. "Anyway, I played too many video games and voila! I turned into a human. Then, I got into a car accident and died. Cool, huh?"
"And how, exactly, did you become what you are now after dying as a human?" L deadpanned.
"Well," Matt beamed proudly, "You see this trendy ensemble here?" He pulled at the hems of his striped shirt. "This is my free ride."
L failed to see how looking like Ronald McDonald would save Matt. Therefore, he stayed silent and allowed the excited mini-death to tell his story.
"Well, y'see, there's this old hag in purgatory. She's the receptionist or something," Matt added finger-quotes to 'receptionist' for good measure, "And she's got absolutely no sense of style. She was wearing white after Labor Day. I don't care if you're a Saint or a Satanist. You wear white after Labor Day and you're going to hell."
"Please, go on."
"Anyway, after I died... you know how they say you have to wait thousands of years in Limbo before they send you on?"
"Yes," replied L.
"I was there about five minutes."
L glared blankly at him. "Really."
"Yup," beamed Matt, "Remember that old hag at the reception desk?"
"Yes."
"She took one look at my shirt and said, 'Kid, you're going to hell.' So that's what I did. I went to mutherfuckin' hell."
"Sounds... harsh."
"It was. It's damn hot down there," Matt complained. He was back in his element, and L could tell. He spoke with considerable ease and each word jumped happily from his throat so it could find someone else's ear to antagonize. "Once I had my own stuffy apartment," L's acquaintance mused, "I decided that I wasn't going to let anyone else push me around. So I got out. You want to know how?"
"Yes," said L.
"The angels in heaven make a huge deal about their 'impenetrable' national security. They say they've got thousands of hundred-foot concrete fences as sheer as cliffs surrounding the borders. I decided to go out and check. You know what I saw?"
"Tell me."
"Barbed wire fences. Barbed-fucking-wire fences. I hopped a few and there I was! Heaven!" Matt threw his hands into the air before chuckling darkly, "And then they caught me. One of the border patrolmen recognized me and booted me back to psychopomp-land. Lucky, lucky me."
Purely to humor his strange side, L asked, "So which was better? Hell or the Suburbs?"
"Hell," Matt stated immediately. "More rock concerts and hard liquor."
--
Raito ended his school day with a forward slump and a sigh.
Matt twirled through the air in front of him, doing experimental cartwheels and flipping a vehemently protesting Ryuzaki over his shoulder. Raito refused to notice either of them. He had plenty to think about.
As he had been loafing around in his chair, Kira's mind wafted around the room, searching for something to connect with. Two of his fellow students hushed about Kira's activity in the media and how they always knew Kira existed, but they never expected to see his work enacted before their very eyes.
Raito yawned just obviously enough to catch their attention.
And then they shut up.
Raito knew he'd have to think of a plan of attack sooner or later, but given the sudden possession of his space by yet another mini-death, he preferred procrastinating about it. Even if he tried to conjure up a plan, Matt's incessant, inventive mind-pokes would keep his focus away.
Well, he could always try telling Matt to scram…
But Ryuzaki beat him to it.
"You have been delightful company," stated Ryuzaki with his hands in his pockets and his eyelids drawn diplomatically downward, "But the past twenty-four hours have been hectic enough. If you would come back some other time, we would be delighted to entertain you."
Matt rolled his eyes. "Yeah, yeah. I know when I'm not wanted. But just you wait. Right when you least expect it… BAM! I'll be there. You watch yourself!"
"Quite," deadpanned Ryuzaki.
"Like a spider monkey." Matt warned.
"Indeed," said Ryuzaki.
Matt pulled his glasses over his eyes and walked slowly away, only to jump mid-step and whirl back into Ryuzaki's face. "Wha-BAM!" he exclaimed with his fingers curled into claws, "Ambush! Critical hit! KO! All your base are belong to me! Just like that, bitch!"
And then, with no warning whatsoever, he vanished into thin air.
Ryuzaki blinked queerly into the shimmering air where his compatriot had been mere seconds ago. "He forgot his car," the mini-death mentioned with a sad thumb to his teeth.
Raito blew a frustrated puff of air from his lips. "Thanks," he muttered. "Much more of that, and I would've gone crazy."
"I noticed," sighed Ryuzaki, "and I agree. Though he does have quite an interesting story…"
Raito quirked an eyebrow. He'd have to ask Ryuzaki about that later…
A catchy cell-phone ring somersaulted through the air. Raito rummaged around in his pockets for his phone. "Hello?" he answered.
"Raito-kun, this is Mikami. You're out of school for the day, right?"
"Oh. Yes. What's up?"
"Actually," the voice hesitated in a strangely suave sort of way, "I was wondering if you wanted to come to my apartment for dinner tonight."
Dinner.
Raito understood that dinner was Soichiro's designated 'family time' and Raito wouldn't escape it without pulling a few teeth. Still, Ryuk could give him answers to a few questions which had been buzzing around his conscience like flies. First off, if Ryuzaki was right and Shinigami could see names as well as faces, could X-Kira see even more? Did X-Kira have any way to distinguish the true Kira from a crowd of people?
Convincing Soichiro would be difficult, but Raito supposed it wouldn't hurt to try…
"My dad might lock me up, but I'll try to come. I'll give you a call later," replied Raito.
"Alright. I'll cross my fingers," said Mikami. Raito was about to hang up when he heard, "Oh! And Raito… I love you."
Raito's insides twirled themselves into knots. He had to say something back…
Think like a politician, Raito. Politics. Politics. Politics.
"I love you too."
But Raito couldn't do it. It was just too cheesy. Instead, he grinned and opted for an answer that was true to his character. For he, Raito Yagami, was not an innocent little Luke Skywalker. He was Han Solo. And he was just sexier that way.
"I know."
Mikami chuckled at him. "Somehow, that's exactly what I thought you would say."
"Hmm," purred Raito.
"See you later," Teru promised before the line went dead.
After Raito went home, he spent the remainder of the evening in quiet seclusion. He explained to Ryuzaki what he needed the mini-death to do in case Soichiro allowed him to skip dinner. Ryuzaki grumbled at him. He agreed, though, and Raito gave him a cheesy thumbs-up and an 'I knew I could count on you!'
The mini-death glared and chewed on his thumb.
Raito's thumb.
The brunette told him to stop.
And then, Soichiro came home. Raito's mission was to doe-eye his dad into letting him leave for dinner and stay after dark at a boyfriend's house with no parental supervision.
Doomed to failure.
Oh well. Raito could try, and he did. Soichiro's jaw dropped earthward and his eyes bugged out of their sockets. "This is a date, isn't it?" he asked incredulously. "Yes," was Raito's answer, because with Mikami it was always a date.
Wrinkles multiplied on the poor old man's forehead. His son! His beautiful, intelligent, athletic, masculine son was going on a dinner-date with an older man. Poor Soichiro.
The rest of his family had no idea as of yet. Out of shame, Soichiro kept Raito's 'secret' from Sachiko and Sayu. He'd have to make up an excuse and he was not accustomed to lying. After all, Soichiro was the chief of police.
To keep the calmly psychotic brunette happy, Soichiro grumbled and set him a curfew. He promised to pick Raito up at eight (promised, meaning Raito could not object). Since his evil scheme had the desired result, Raito happily called Teru back. As he dialed the number, Ryuzaki glared apprehensively at the phone. Out of curiosity, Raito stopped dialing and sighed disdainfully. "What is it?"
"This is a date," muttered the mini-death with an abused, pink thumb in his teeth.
Raito rolled his eyes. "Yes."
"I do not feel inclined to let you date someone else," Ryuzaki remarked suddenly, as if the realization hit him that very second.
"Really?" deadpanned Raito, "Never would have expected that."
Ryuzaki slid his thumb along his teeth and perched on the corner of Raito's bed. "It bothers me. Yes, it bothers me very much." The brunette quirked an eyebrow at his mini-death compatriot. Ryuzaki was unusually thoughtful about this. Then again, it suited him, since everything about him was unusual.
"Yes, and?" Raito sneered politely.
"And I don't think I'll let you go," stated Ryuzaki, tilting his head to the left and focusing his dinner plate eyes on Raito.
"Don't think so?" the brunette played along.
"Not at all. I'm afraid I will have to keep you here."
"Unfortunate, because I think I'll go anyway."
"I am afraid not. Very sorry to inconvenience you, Raito-kun."
"It makes me sad, Ryuzaki."
"My deepest sympathies."
"I'm going to cry."
"Oh, please don't. It would break my heart."
"You break my heart."
"Oh, Raito-kun," sighed Ryuzaki sadly, "If only we could reach a compromise…"
A ha. Raito should have known. Sly little bastard, that Ryuzaki. "What sort of compromise?" hummed the tragic brunette.
"Perhaps I should let you go, but then I would feel terribly left out. If only you were to open your heart once we returned home…"
"And you're done," Raito smiled cheerfully.
Ryuzaki remained calmly on the bedpost. "Well, I've proposed my half. Set your conditions, Raito-kun."
"You get nothing," proposed Raito. "Those are my conditions."
"Oh," moped Ryuzaki. "How disheartening." Raito stood defiantly with Mikami's half-dialed number in the glowing cell-phone screen as Ryuzaki brooded on his bedpost. "In that case, I change my offer. I am a firm believer in equality, so allow me to suggest this: I only go as far as Mikami goes. Is that clear?" asked the mini-death.
"Clear as mud," replied the brunette.
"If he touches you, so do I. If he kisses you, so do I. It is quite a simple game, Raito."
Game, shmame.
Besides, Ryuzaki couldn't do any of that to him anyway.
"If he gets to first base, you get to first base." Raito rolled the idea about in his mind. Well, he and Mikami never went past the easy stuff. Fooling around. This was mostly because either Raito danced away or Ryuzaki distracted Mikami before anything could happen. Normally, the latter. Acting on this information, it would be wise to accept Ryuzaki's proposal and get it over with.
On the other hand…
What would Ryuzaki do?
Mikami sounded pretty moony on the phone, and Ryuzaki knew this. So maybe the mini-death would sit back and let him have his way. However, Raito knew how much it bugged Ryuzaki to watch Mikami flirt with him.
Would Ryuzaki let his arch-rival have his way or would he come to the rescue?
Either way, Raito was intrigued.
"I accept," he declared with his free hand outstretched. Ryuzaki bit his thumb appraisingly. "You do?" he asked.
"No," replied the brunette, "I'm holding my hand out because I feel like it."
"You are certain that you will not break this promise, even though you find me terribly annoying?" Ryuzaki made a crude reference to Raito's response to one of Matt's inquiries earlier that day.
"You're mad about that?"
"I believe I must bring you down to earth before your ego carries you away."
"Fine," growled Raito. "I won't break my promise."
"Ah. In that case, thank you for accepting my offer. It will be upheld, yes?" quizzed the mini-death.
"Yes," confirmed Raito for the second time. Ryuzaki considered the hand with an owl-like tilt-and-blink before stretching his sleeve over his own hand and wrapping his fingers around Raito's. "A deal," he observed. "Yes," Raito replied for a third time, "Now let go."
"But I do not want to."
Raito conceded. He was perfectly capable of dialing the remainder of Teru's number with one hand. As Ryuzaki traced the contours of his palms, Raito waited through the ringing of Teru's phone.
"Hello?" came a cultured voice.
"Hey," Raito replied.
"Well, well. How're you doing in the den of lions, hm?"
"Dad said he'd let me leave. 'Till eight, anyway."
"Eight?" Teru seemed disheartened, "That's early."
"It's pretty late, considering he's letting me escape to your house in the evening with no parental supervision."
"Ah. Speaking of parental supervision, your dad isn't coming up to my apartment, is he?"
"Dunno," shrugged the brunette. "Better be prepared in case he wants to meet you."
"Right. In that case, when should I expect you?"
"Half an hour. I'm leaving right now."
"Alright then. I'll be waiting. Love you."
"I know."
Teru chuckled, "Bye."
Raito hung up and doubled his cellular phone back onto itself. Then, he took time out of his busy schedule to note that Ryuzaki hadn't let go of his hand. "You can let go now," he urged politely.
"I agree," mused the mini-death. "Whether or not I want to is another matter."
"What are you getting at?" Raito sighed, shoulders sagging.
Ryuzaki blinked curiously at him. "Is this not how mortals show affection for one another? Physical contact?"
"Holding hands is for little girls," Raito deadpanned, "not grown men."
"Oh? Then what sort of physical contact do grown men prefer, Raito-kun?" Ryuzaki nibbled on his thumb and stared intently at Raito.
"Currently, none," the brunette denied, tugging his hand free of Ryuzaki's grip.
Ryuzaki's lanky arm dangled at his side like a skinned mink. "I see," he remarked. Raito could tell that despite his rejection, Ryuzaki's bravery had not wavered. He stared intently into Raito's eyes, challengingly, as if he knew that by some tragedy of nature, his desires would be met by the end of the night.
Ryuzaki was no longer afraid of Raito's frosty attitude. Raito was beginning to doubt whether the mini-death had been intimidated by his attitude in the first place. The brunette knew, however, that when meddling with bold, wild animals, one must never express fear. Therefore, Raito straightened his collar, fixed his hair, and marched defiantly down the stairs.
--
Soichiro stayed in the car. L secretly suspected that the worried old man didn't want to believe his son was dating another man, so he strictly denied the relationship's existence by staying as far away from it as possible. Raito was relieved, Mikami was relieved, and now both of them were spooned on the couch. L was left to roam around the flat and note its peculiarity-du-jour.
Firstly, the air smelled far too good. It was an airy, tangy smell. Much like fresh-cut grass, really. The furniture in the living room was especially spotless, along with the gleaming carpet and blinding walls. In the kitchen lay a far more suspicious sight. The table was entirely too fancy, being decorated with a square of cloth which looked like the leaf-green lovechild of a doily and a Persian rug. The smell of freshly boiled pasta mingled with the lawn scent and L spied a glass jar of marinara sauce on an open shelf.
Were the lights to be dimmed and a few candles to be lit, Mikami could be justifiably sued for a despicable imitation of The Lady and the Tramp.
The last thing L noticed lay quaintly out of view in the hall. Once he noticed, however, its implications could not be ignored.
The bedroom door was open.
Only slightly, but just enough to be inviting. L took an accusing peek inside to find that Mikami's room had been scoured like the rest of the house. The mirror glowed happily in the corner next to a spotless wardrobe. Mismatched clothes were nowhere to be found.
He cleaned his room.
Hoping to lure Raito into it.
Something akin to an air-raid siren blared in L's head.
And yet, he could do nothing. He would do nothing. He knew what Raito expected of him and he intended to prove the haughty mortal wrong. Raito expected L to come to his rescue if Mikami even thought about getting too comfortable. He anticipated L's frequent fits of childish anger. He knew how L hated Mikami, and he planned to use that hate to his advantage.
But L would relax tonight.
He and Raito made a deal. They shook on it. A promise, once sealed in a handshake, could not be broken. If Raito did not uphold his end of the bargain, L would hold it up for him.
The two of them were playing dirty now, and Raito fancied himself the king of the sandbox. Now, L may have been a fan of nonviolence. He may have yielded his ground to Raito in the past.
But L was very, very good at games.
He ignored Raito's previous order to ask Ryuk about his eyes. That could wait. Instead, he perched on the corner of the recliner and curled his knees into his chest.
Six-o-clock, and Mikami got bold. "Hungry, Raito?" he asked with a smile.
"Starving," grinned the charming brunette.
Mikami latched onto Raito's arm and marched him into the kitchen. L followed and watched. The brunette viewed the room impassively before simultaneously pretending to be astonished and quirking a quizzical eyebrow at L. L simply shrugged at him. If L were Raito, he would be intensely annoyed with Mikami's romantic efforts. Raito glanced in an endearing and intelligent manner at his not-boyfriend, but L could tell by the twitching of his fingers that the brunette didn't quite know what to make of it all.
Regardless of his apprehension, Raito politely took his seat and partook in the competition of adoring stares Mikami started. L crawled along the ceiling and gazed at the two of them. Once Mikami was distracted enough with collecting the food he'd cooked earlier that day, Raito glared angrily at L as if he expected the mini-death to be somewhere else. L simply tilted his head and gnawed on his thumb.
"Painfully romantic dinner," L hummed. "You owe me this."
Raito scowled. 'Why aren't you doing what I asked?' his eyes muttered.
"Perhaps later. Currently, I am keeping track of your progress. Therefore, I cannot leave, lest I miss something," replied L.
Raito glared gloomily at him before grinning at Mikami and his single bowl of spaghetti.
One large bowl of extra-long noodles.
L could honestly say at that point, he didn't really care what happened between Mikami and Raito. The romance of the moment was too much. He wasn't one to turn away, though. Instead, he simply glared blankly at the both of them as Mikami sensuously twirled spaghetti around his chopsticks and Raito lounged in his chair, reeking of tight-lipped poise and refinement. His smile was sickly sweet, cold, impassive, and acidic. His eyes shown like Juliet's 'happy' daggers.
L noticed this.
If he ever dared to take Raito out for dinner or some silly nonsense like that, he'd bring a bag of potato chips, a few cinnamon rolls, two cans of cola, and two slices of cake up to his room and call it a dinner-date. He would never force Raito to endure a candlelight dinner.
In spite of himself and the horrible time he was undoubtedly having, Raito leaned in and stared into Mikami's eyes for a longer time than was socially acceptable. Mikami, who did not seem to mind, stared back with a small, goofy smile on his face. A few mirthfully hushed words were exchanged and the next thing L knew, all three of them were back in the living room, two having expensive bowls of gelato in hand.
L secretly hated them for this.
Mikami pulled Raito into his lap and leaned on the back of the couch. Raito played along. He allowed himself to be dragged this way and that. He allowed Mikami to stroke his hair and run his fingers up and down his wrists. He tilted his head to the side and allowed Mikami's lips to explore his neck.
And then L wondered.
Raito was acting oddly. Whereas he wouldn't allow the dark-haired mortal this much contact earlier, he was now welcoming every caress with open arms. Had he forgotten his deal with L, perhaps?
In reminder, L remarked, "Necking, cuddling, and kissing. You owe me this as well."
Raito sighed at him. He leaned back, appearing to give Mikami room to work at his collarbone, when in fact he merely wished to glare defiantly at L as if to say, 'So?'
Well.
Given the circumstances, L could tolerate this behavior.
He disliked renting Raito out to anyone, but their deal kept him from intervening via some strange, unexplainable household disaster or another. Raito knew the consequences of his actions. He understood that L would be repaid for this.
L gnawed on his thumbnail.
Oh dear.
Either L's imagination was on the fritz, or Raito was looking forward to upholding his end of the bargain.
Interesting.
--
Raito kept telling himself that he was in control of the situation, even though he didn't quite know why he was letting this happen to him. Maybe he felt sorry for being such a brat to Ryuzaki. Maybe he actually liked being taken advantage of.
Maybe Halle was right and Raito had gone absolutely apeshit.
Why was he letting Teru rub his wrists like that? Why was he letting Teru nibble on his neck like that? He asked these questions to the empty bowl of gelato on the coffee table.
The bowl gave no reply.
"Raito…" kiss, "you're beautiful." smooch, "You're perfect…"
Raito moaned in mental anguish. It used to be against his morals to use other people for his own personal gain. Currently, Raito was unsure of what he had to gain. Yet, there he was, wrapped in the arms of an unsuspecting innocent, being carefully ravished by someone he barely knew.
Raito understood that, in accepting Ryuzaki's challenge, there was no way to get revenge on him. If Raito avoided Teru like the plague, Ryuzaki won. If Teru ravished Raito, Ryuzaki won.
However, Raito had a reason to accept Ryuzaki's proposal.
There was just something Raito loved in that expectant face of his. Ryuzaki's arrogance bothered him sometimes. Like he knew exactly what he was talking about all the time. Raito didn't want to owe anything to Ryuzaki. He didn't want to feel bound by obligation.
But when Ryuzaki was expecting something to come sooner or later… When Raito could make him wonder…
Therein lay his revenge.
Raito's reward.
Ryuzaki had given Raito an incredible amount of power. Raito may have owed his mini-death friend a favor or two, but nowhere in the conditions of his challenge did Ryuzaki state on whose time the mini-death would be equalized with Teru. Raito could hold back if he so chose. He had a good excuse not to be intimate with Ryuzaki. A few, actually.
Firstly, Ryuzaki was not human. He was invisible and intangible. Getting in touch with him was far too complicated for Raito's liking.
Secondly, he had Matt to consider. Raito was certain that he could delay the fulfillment of his end of the bargain by hanging out with Matt all day.
And yet…
Ryuzaki was a powerful entity as well. He was unafraid of Raito's pride. He had grown accustomed to Raito's indifference. A few nights ago, he'd been so daring as to ignore Raito's horrible attitude and sleep beside him anyway.
(Or had Raito dragged him down?)
If Raito pulled his first card, Ryuzaki had a hand to counter it. If Raito shoved him away, detailing the means by which Ryuzaki could not touch him, Ryuzaki could merely threaten to become human.
If Raito used Matt as a shield to hide behind, Ryuzaki would simply step around him and molest Raito anyhow. The brunette got a distinct feeling that Ryuzaki had no sense of human decency.
And still, Raito was trapped.
He owed Ryuzaki, human or inhuman, Matt or Matt-less.
Damn.
In the midst of all this thinking, Teru had stopped. "You're a little tense," he murmured in Raito's ear.
Raito was a little tense. He was always a little tense. Yet, Raito did what he did best. He grinned lazily, forced himself to relax, and sighed, "Me? Tense? Well…" he turned around and casually straddled Teru's waist, "…that's because I'm bored."
Teru threw Raito onto his back and pressed his lips roughly against Raito's. Raito's lips parted and he felt the older man's wet, hot tongue caress the soft flesh of his mouth.
As far as his senses were concerned, Raito had distanced himself from Teru. His eyes snapped sharply to where Ryuzaki was perched on the corner of the recliner. Ryuzaki watched, dinner plate eyes wide and calculating, toes curled around his chair, knees bent up accordion-style and his thumb pressed to his teeth.
Observant.
Interested.
Involved.
Not jealous at all.
Sitting over there in the corner of the room, he could probably see Mikami's back hovering over Raito's chest. He could see Mikami's faceless halo of black hair.
Maybe he saw himself bent over Raito like that.
Freak.
Maybe the reason he hadn't barged in yet was because he knew Raito knew about the consequences of his actions. Ryuzaki and Raito both understood that the mini-death got as far as Teru got.
So, maybe, knowing the strange way Ryuzaki thought incredibly deeply about everything…
He thought Raito was doing this for him?
…
Fuck no.
That was… outrageous. Raito wouldn't voluntarily do something like that. Ryuzaki was… Ryuzaki. Raito could do better. He was so far above Ryuzaki. He knew he was. Out of all the people in the world, Raito would not choose Ryuzaki, who wasn't even a person by definition! He'd gone over this long ago. Ryuzaki was not physically attractive, his personality sometimes made Raito physically ill, and he was incredibly boring to hang out with.
And yet Raito could not stand his absence.
Raito absolutely hated it when Ryuzaki left. It wasn't any sort of emotional attachment, however. Oh no. It was a security issue.
When Ryuzaki was around, Raito felt safe.
There he went, shooting his own ego out of the sky again. Raito couldn't understand what was wrong with him. He hated contradicting himself. He was above the duality of his mind. Raito could do better.
But…
Did Ryuzaki really… mean something to him? The half of Raito's brain labeled 'Kira' shouted 'BLASPHEMY!'
Even so, there were some things about Ryuzaki that Raito liked, dare he say it. Every day, it seemed, he needed to remind himself that yes, he needed Ryuzaki, and yes, he liked having Ryuzaki there.
Loved it.
Was he in denial? Raito remembered more than one occasion when he'd hinted at possibly getting to know a certain mini-death better. Why did he forget these occasions so often? Was he so opposed to being associated with Ryuzaki that he denied his friendship with the mini-death in his sleep?
Or maybe it was some sort of twisted child's bedtime anti-prayer?
Dear Lord, I hate Ryuzaki. He's really annoying. Make him go away. Amen.
PS, don't really make him go away. I can't stand it when he's gone. Amen.
Fuck.
Raito's body had been on auto-pilot for quite some time. Teru kissed and Raito kissed back. The older man's hands caressed up and down Raito's sides and Raito squirmed. But Raito's mind was coldly and dispassionately disconnected with reality.
His eyes were fixed on Ryuzaki and his gaze was becoming more livid by the second.
Raito was accustomed to high school dates who would kiss and cuddle and bribe Raito into whispering sweet, meaningless lies into their ears. He was used to catching and releasing, since there were plenty more fish in the sea and they were all practically leaping onto his pier.
But there weren't many fish like Ryuzaki.
There weren't any fish like Ryuzaki.
As a matter of fact, Raito wasn't sure if Ryuzaki was a fish at all.
In every naïve relationship Raito shared, he had to do all the work. He had to do the advancing, the caring, the planning, and eventually the ditching, which he became incredibly good at. With Ryuzaki, none of that was really an issue. Ryuzaki had done the advancing (a lot of advancing), the caring (divine protection or otherwise), the planning (well, he hadn't lost his self control and turned into a human yet, had he?), and Raito was quite sure Ryuzaki was passionate enough not to abandon him.
Raito told Ryuzaki to get out of his hair every day. Raito tried to get rid of the mini-death on a regular basis.
But Ryuzaki would not leave. He refused. He simply sat there, watching over Raito and keeping him safe.
This satisfied Raito.
Raito told him to leave, but he didn't mean it. He told Ryuzaki that he was annoying and he hated him, but he didn't mean it. Raito had grown so used to irritating people and irritating relationships that he naturally wanted to get rid of them as quickly and as often as possible.
He was used to being depended on, not having someone to depend on.
He used to hate women for being so clingy and needy, but… now he knew why they enjoyed it so much.
It was… nice.
Raito groaned into Teru's lips. The dark-haired man pulled breathlessly away. "What is it?" he panted.
"Fuck," huffed Raito in a winded, irritated sort of way.
Teru stared down at him, worried, as if he feared he'd done something wrong. "What's wrong?" he wheezed frantically.
"Ugh," Raito groaned and brought a hand to his face to massage his eyes. Angrily, voice full of confusion, Raito growled, "I think I'm in love."
"What?" Teru chuckle-huffed.
"Yeah," Raito moped.
And now… he was really starting to feel sorry for Teru. Poor guy. Poor, innocent, little tool…
"Fuck, Teru," Raito groaned, "I'm sorry."
"Sorry for what?" Teru laughed and embraced Raito in a reassuring bear-hug. "Being in love is a good thing."
But I'm not in love with you, Teru.
"It sucks," Raito complained into Teru's collarbone. "It really, really sucks."
As Teru whispered those sweet, meaningless lies into Raito's ear, just like he used to do to sentimental women, Raito stared balefully up at Ryuzaki. The mini-death sat there as he usually did, but there was a certain gleam in his eyes. Raito could tell that Ryuzaki understood. He could tell that Ryuzaki was unspeakably happy. But still the mini-death hung back, calmly, observing, more reserved and careful than ever.
Almost like he was refraining from doing anything stupid. Like he didn't want to provoke Raito in any way.
Ryuzaki was as intelligent and insightful as he had ever been, while poor Teru Mikami remained totally and blissfully ignorant.
--
Soichiro called on time. Raito straightened his clothes on time and left the apartment on time. He and Mikami shared a few loving parting words before Raito walked mechanically down the stairs and out the door, where the car pulled up to the curb and waited.
Right on time.
Raito was functioning on a higher state of mind, evident since his thoughts floated elsewhere amongst all of the soft, invisible things in the ether. Raito marched to the car and from the car with geometric precision. One foot in front of the other, precisely angular, each stride the same distance from the last. In the time between marching, Raito sat rigidly in the car, back at a perfect right angle to his thighs, which were at likewise perfect right angles to his calves, which, in turn, were at precise right angles to his feet.
Raito's eyes were muddy and angry, lacking their usual golden clarity. His hands were fisted in his lap. His lips were clamped shut in a short, fine line.
He hardly moved. He never spoke.
L sat silently, patiently, and distantly. He dodged the occasional solar flare from Raito's boiling temper. L was very happy, but Raito was not. Therefore, L had to keep his emotions in check. Otherwise, Raito's rage would backfire and L would suffer the consequences.
He would speak if demanded to, and he would listen well.
L followed quietly as Raito marched up the stairs like a wind-up soldier. The instant he ducked into his room and closed the door, Raito lost his composure. He slowly slouched and let his arms dangle limply at his sides. The corners of his lips sank menacingly lower. His eyes smoldered miserably as he glared at L.
Annoyed, aggravated, dismal, grievous, injured, muddled.
Upset.
Raito sighed at L. L waited, trying to appear as normal as possible.
The brunette slouched there, shoulders sagging and eyes glaring, for quite a long time. The lights in his room cast a depressingly yellow hue on his skin and hooded his eyes just to the point that his golden irises gathered the light in their dish-like hollows and reflected it as if they were the eyes of a possessed cheetah. He kept silent, save for the rhythmic heave-and-sigh of unspeakable anger.
His eyes began to move. They flicked to and fro, up and down, purposefully. He sighed to himself, low and long, before abruptly giving up. He walked slowly over to L and glared into his eyes.
"Happy now?" Raito growled.
L said nothing.
"You got what you wanted. That was what you wanted, wasn't it?"
L said nothing.
Raito glared at him, lips sealed in an unhappy line once more. He shook his head and hissed, "Why weren't you out looking for Ryuk like I told you to?"
L said nothing.
Raito continued shaking his head disdainfully. His eyes sparkled with angry tears, but L knew they'd soon dissolve back into the depths of Raito's eyes. Kira would not cry.
Before L knew what hit him, something did. Raito's fist collided with his chest at blistering speed and L went staggering backward into the bookcase. He fell into it, forcing one of the shelves out of place. Books spilled onto the floor and the bookcase quivered for a moment on its feet before crashing down.
L morphed out of the bookcase, heaving, ribs throbbing with pain.
"Raito?" came a deep voice and a matching pair of footsteps on the stair. Soichiro barged in the door to find his son sitting impassively on the side of his bed, back to the door, and his bookcase flat on the floor. "Raito, are you alright?" Soichiro demanded.
"Fine," deadpanned Raito.
"What happened to your bookcase?" Soichiro pressed.
"It fell over," said Raito.
Soichiro was silent for a moment. "Do you want to talk about this?"
"No."
Again, Yagami was silent. "Have you taken your pills yet?"
"No."
"Mm," hummed Soichiro. "Before you go to bed, Raito."
"Yeah."
Soichiro lingered in the doorframe for a while. All that time, Raito stared at L. L maintained his gaze as he prodded his sore ribs. "You're sure you're alright, son?"
"Yeah."
"Well, I expect that mess to be cleaned up tomorrow. I'll help you if you want."
"'Kay."
"Good night," sighed Soichiro.
"Night," deadpanned Raito.
Soichiro hovered before closing the door and trudging heavily down the stairs. In the silence that followed, L listened to Sachiko's worried voice and Soichiro's tired responses.
'What happened?'
'Knocked his bookcase over.'
'Why do you think-'
"Ryuzaki, don't do this," Raito mumbled suddenly from his spot on the bed.
Raito had unleashed his pent-up anger. L decided to break his silence. "Do what?" he asked simply.
"This… this stupid quiet thing. I get mad and you don't get mad. I punch you and you don't do anything. Stop acting like you're better than me."
Oh?
"Forgive me. I did not want to make you angry."
"Kick me," said Raito.
L blinked. "I beg your pardon?"
"Kick me," Raito repeated.
"Why?" L asked.
"Because I told you to. Now kick me. And don't bullshit me. Kick me like you mean it."
L sensed a trap, but he was unwilling to do much of anything about it. He didn't feel like picking a fight with Raito. "I do not wish to hurt you," stated L.
"Stop being so goddamn nice!" Raito hissed. The air flew out of L's lungs as Raito's fist connected with his gut.
L coughed a little, but he maintained his balance in order to prevent another furniture item from falling over. He held his stomach with one hand and rowed the air with the other. No sooner had he regained his ground, than another sleeve-clad fist decked him across the face. L fell back onto the floor, melting into it this time to avoid making any noise. Raito didn't even let L get up before he floored him again.
And now, L's nose hurt. For a second, he feared he'd broken something. His nose was still intact, however.
This time, Raito graciously allowed L to pick himself up off of the floor before landing another punch. L's head flew to one side, then the other. Raito hooked one side of his jaw, then the other.
Five times.
L's face felt… well, it didn't feel anything. He was numb. It was a fuzzy, puffy sort of feeling. He noticed that his nose was still unbroken and it wasn't bleeding. If Raito could have given him a red mark that time at Mikami's he should have been able to break his nose. As L focused on the mind-boggling physics of it all, Raito stood there, panting.
"Come on, Ryuzaki," he goaded breathlessly, "Kick me!"
"Would that make you feel any better?" L droned, feeling his face.
"Ryuzaki, you always fight back."
"Ah, but I think you do not truthfully want me to."
"Yes I do!"
"Well, I don't want to. So I will not," L refrained. He poked at the ridge of his nose, making sure it hadn't liquefied or something.
Raito stood there in a deflated fighting stance. His biceps flexed and his fists clenched, knuckles red and raw. His feet were far apart and he breathed heavily. As L carefully maintained his distance, Raito's stance began to droop. His hands dropped limply to his sides again and his shoulders sagged. That upset look burned in his eyes.
"Ryuzaki…"
L said nothing.
"Ryuzaki." Raito stumbled tiredly over.
L said nothing.
He and Raito were mere inches apart now. L kept his gaze carefully impassive, despite the massive amount of fuzzy pain that was leaking into every contour of his face. Raito studied him for a moment or two before sighing and closing his eyes. He leaned into L's shoulder and stood there, dead on his feet. He brought his arms up around L's shoulders, tiredly, and breathed a deep, resigned sigh.
"You win."
L stood still. "I win?"
"You win," sighed Raito.
"What do I win? L asked.
"You know what," Raito grumbled. "Stupid motherfucker."
"Mm," L hummed. He felt Raito's warm breath ghost through the soft hair on his neck. Cautiously, he reached an arm across the small of the brunette's back. When Raito didn't protest, L snaked the other arm around his waist and secured a comfortable hold around the other boy. "Do you still want me to kick you?" he asked.
"No," replied Raito.
"Why not?"
"Too tired…"
L smiled. "I see. In that case, go to bed. Sleep."
"I can't sleep… I won't," Raito refused. "Ryuzaki, I feel horrible."
"Hmm, Raito-kun. You are still human." L sighed.
"I don't want to be human," Raito griped, "I want to be Kira."
"Kira is human," L stated.
"I'm not supposed to feel bad. I kill people every day and I sleep like a baby at night. I'm not supposed to feel bad about using Mikami."
"But you do," remarked L. "Remember what I told you? Using people is wrong. It will hurt you more than Mikami."
Raito paused. "I've used you too, huh?"
"Maybe," L replied, "But I am willing to put it behind me. It is as I said. Karmic backlash, yes?"
"Guess so. I don't want to turn my room into a sob-fest though," Raito yawned.
"Hm. Do you feel better?" L asked, rubbing circles into Raito's sides.
"A little," Raito sighed. Then, he pulled away from L and meandered toward his closet. Along the way, he glanced up at the clock. "Only nine," Raito muttered, "God, I must be tired."
"No divine judgment for tonight?" L asked mildly.
"Mm," Raito mumbled from the closet, "Guess I'll have to stay up 'till ten. Watch the news…" He draped a pair of pajama pants across the foot of his bed and the buckle of his belt clanked as he tore it off. Raito tiredly wrenched his shirt off and threw it into the closet. L watched.
Either Raito was very tired, very relaxed, or a cocktail of both. He was undressing in front of L. The mini-death had enough decency to look away.
Raito noticed this. "You don't have to look away. I'm not embarrassed," he announced as he tugged at his pants (L took a peek). The mini-death retaliated with an "I was previously under the impression that it is impolite to stare, especially while one is undressing. Perhaps this is untrue?"
"Under certain conditions," admitted Raito, kicking his pants completely off (L took another peek). Raito was currently clad in nothing but a pair of loose, black boxer shorts around his thin, narrow hips. He seemed to consider the striped pair of pajama pants folded on the footboard for a second or two. Raito glanced oddly at L. Then, he thought better of himself and slid into his pajama pants.
Still a bit insecure.
L couldn't blame him, though. Raito probably felt physically ill after the day's events. If Raito wanted a security blanket, he would have his security blanket.
After Raito shut the lights off, he hit his mattress like a ton of bricks. He rolled over to snatch his remote and turned the television on. Commercials lit the room in pastel colors and broke the silence with a pleasant, muted babble.
He stayed on that side of the bed, leaving a sizeable gap between himself and the other edge of the mattress. L may have misunderstood Raito's intentions, but he risked being smacked in the face again. The mini-death hopped onto the empty side of the bed and sat there. Raito twisted around and quirked an eyebrow at him. "Friendly much?" he drawled in his usual, cocky sort of way.
"Very," replied L. "You don't mind my friendliness, do you?"
Raito blew a sophisticated raspberry at him before rolling back onto his side.
L scratched another tally into his half of the leader board. "So," he remarked, well aware of his tactlessness, "You do plan on upholding your end of the bargain, do you not, Raito-kun?"
"Maybe," Raito hummed with his back to L.
"Hm," sighed L, "I expected as much."
Raito rolled onto his back and grinned smugly at L. "Maybe, when I feel like it, I'll think about it."
L identified this ambiguity as a definite 'YES.'
"I see. When do you expect you'll 'feel like it?'" L cocked his head and gnawed on his thumb.
"Never," Raito hummed pleasantly. "Never ever."
"Yes…" L brooded. He eyed Raito queerly and twiddled his toes. "You leave me no choice. I must now appear as irresistible as I possibly can. Tell me, Raito-kun, what do you find irresistible?"
"Peace, quiet, serenity. Sleep. Being left alone. All that."
"Ha. But I will not fall for your traps, you see. I will not be quiet, and neither will I pretend not to be here. I most certainly will not leave, since you have the nasty habit of worrying while I'm gone."
"Dammit," Raito not-swore.
"Now tell me, Raito-kun. Do you like cute things?" L asked.
"No," denied Raito, "I kick puppies."
"Do you?"
"Yes. Often."
"Oh dear. That won't do," L worried with a lonely sigh. "Do you like pretty things?"
"No," Raito denied a second time, "they're either dumb as rocks or they make me sneeze."
"Hm," sighed L. "What to do, what to do. You like smart things, then?"
"Sure, why not," relented Raito.
"I see!" exclaimed L. "Shall I relate quantum physics and calculus to you, then?"
"Ryuzaki, you forget that the one thing I really love is peace and quiet. If you keep talking, I might have to kick you out of my bed."
L knew he would do no such thing. "Ah, but if you did, I would feel quite lonely, you know. You do not want me to be lonely, do you, Raito-kun?"
"Yes."
"Now you're just being difficult," L pouted.
"Lie down, Ryuzaki," demanded Raito.
L refused. He drew his knees into his chest and nibbled on his thumb. "I will not be ordered around like a dog."
"What if I love it when men do what I ask?" Raito hummed seductively and turned on his side to face L.
"Then you're a woman," L pointed out.
Raito, instantly turned off, rolled his eyes and curled up with his back to L again.
Hm.
L must've said something wrong. In any case, it became apparent to L that Raito was not one to be wooed with words. Raito was also impervious to pleading. For an intellectual, Raito certainly reacted more to physical contact. Therefore, L concluded that the only method affecting Raito at any point in time was physical persuasion.
He stretched out on Raito's mattress and lay there, glaring at Raito's back for quite a while and planning his assault. The brunette knew it was coming, too. His back stiffened and he pressed his arms to his middle. L slithered over to him and snaked his arms around Raito's.
"Freak," muttered the brunette.
"You like freaks," said L. "Admit it."
Raito groaned and kicked L's pant-leg with his heel. L retaliated by winding his calf around the brunette's shin and imprisoning it there. The mini-death half expected Raito to elbow him in the face or some nonsense like that. The elbow never came, however. Raito deemed the situation unworthy of his attention and abandoned all hope of reclaiming his leg. This made L very happy.
What made L very unhappy, however, was his inability to touch Raito's skin. The brunette had no shirt on. He was all soft, hot, bare skin from the waist up, and L couldn't enjoy it like he wanted to. He felt Raito's heat through his shirt, but he wanted to feel it with his fingers. Taste it, maybe.
(What did Raito taste like?)
L never quite got to feel anything other than the texture of his own clothing. When Raito punched him, L felt his shirt against his chest, accompanied only by the bruising indent of a fist. When he held Raito, the brunette was only a form against his clothing. The only time L had been truly blessed was when Raito's shirt-clad-knuckles collided with his face.
He didn't get to touch Raito, and it was pissing him off.
"You're not happy," Raito observed.
"I am not satisfied with my situation," L grouched.
Raito's heaving sigh was probably accompanied by another roll of the eyes. "This isn't good enough for you? Why am I not surprised?"
"You are assuming," said L.
"Right. What aren't you satisfied with?"
"This relationship is seriously lacking in intimacy," L grouched again. "Now, before you go assuming what I mean again, I dislike not being able to touch you."
"Ryuzaki, don't be such a freak." Raito deadpanned.
Raito was a very physical person. L knew this. Mello was also a very physical person. L began to wonder if all humans were this way. Near refused to become human in order to protect Mello. Thus, Mello lost interest and went searching for other means of entertaining himself. If L did not act, Raito would lose any interest he had.
L would lose him.
"…Ryuzaki, what are you grumbling about?"
"I do not want to lose you, Raito-kun," L stated.
Raito did not say anything overly sentimental. He did not comfort L with a 'you won't lose me' or an 'I'll love you forever' (stars fall now if the latter ever escaped Raito's lips). L did not expect the brunette to say anything. For a long while, Raito was predictable. Calm, quiet, and thoughtful.
And then, he became tense, as if he wanted to say something. "Wonder if Matt will ever come back," he sighed.
L did not like to assume. However, conjectures concerning Raito's mutterings were inevitable. If Matt came back, Raito had a new bodyguard. However, L felt uneasy leaving Raito's life in the hands of someone else. Matt didn't seem like the overenthusiastic mother hen type. He was calm, laid back, and lazy.
However, there was no proof that L could not protect Raito in a human state.
Maybe… he could go where Near could not.
Perhaps he could make it work.
As he was lost in thought, a familiar face hung itself upside-down in the window. As if summoned at the sound of his name, goggle-eyed Matt arrived in the window-well and cast both Raito and L an unreadable glance. For a second, L feared he would pop in and crash their party.
Matt did no such thing.
He grinned to himself. A secretive, knowing, impishly adoring sort of grin.
Nostalgic.
Matt gave L two thumbs up and mouthed 'HOME BASE!' before giggling silently to himself and winking off into the void.
L blinked at the window where Matt had been mere seconds ago.
Well. He had a substantial amount of human decency after all. L wondered at the sparkle in his eyes, though. Maybe Matt was a voyeur…
Suddenly, Raito sighed. "You really want to be a human, don't you?"
"Yes," L lamented.
Silence. "…It's not as great as you think."
"I do not care," L replied.
Raito elaborated, "You have to eat, sleep, shower, use the restroom, get sick, die…"
"I do not care," said L.
"Go to school, get a job, own a house, pay the bills…"
"I do not care," said L.
"And if you break the law, you have to go to jail."
"And then you have to kill me."
"You'd never do anything to make me want to kill you, Ryuzaki."
"Even if I murdered a thousand people with an electric blender?"
"Even if you murdered a thousand people with an electric- no, wait. This isn't the point," Raito mumbled. "The point is, it's difficult being human. Okay?"
"That is not what I am worried about," L pointed out. He pulled Raito closer into his chest. "I am worried that I will endanger you. I won't be able to stop the next disaster that happens to you, Raito-kun."
The brunette considered this. He turned the notion over and over in his head for a while. Raito began to tap on his arms with his fingertips and his ensnared leg flexed around L's calves.
"Maybe I can bully Matt around," he growled resentfully. "Even if I can't, maybe I'm not afraid to die anymore."
"Not afraid to die?" L's hopeful heart leapt into his throat.
"…No. Besides, I think I'll be fine. Maybe I'll find a few friends in hell or something."
"Perhaps you won't go to hell." L suggested.
Raito sighed tiredly. "Maybe not."
Trying vehemently to be optimistic, L wondered aloud, "Perhaps the shinigami no longer want to kill you. None of them have tried for a very long time."
"Why wouldn't they?" Raito grumbled.
"An allied power holding them back, perchance?" postulated the mini-death. "Or maybe they have lost interest."
Raito snorted to himself and snuggled in closer. Funny, L thought, because the brunette had never been a fan of snuggling. As Raito twisted around in the mini-death's arms to wrench his leg free and press his forehead into the hollow at the base of L's neck, L muttered, "You must've knocked a few screws loose earlier with Mikami. I almost fear that you've been in a state of temporary insanity for the past hour or so and this entire conversation will have completely left your mind by morning."
"Not crazy," Raito denied automatically.
Relieving, L thought.
Once he settled in, the brunette stayed there. He did not move for the rest of the night, even as his news program droned steadily by. By ten-seventeen, Raito's breaths came slowly and evenly. He was fast asleep.
L found himself unusually tired as well. The darkness in the windows and the stillness of the room made him sleepy. Raito's arms were tucked safely into his chest, so L didn't have to worry about being conspicuous. He floated to the top of the blankets to eliminate any trace of his being there in case Sayu came bumbling into the room.
L surprised himself, really. He hated closing his eyes. Bad things could happen when he couldn't see them. However, his eyelids fell over his eyes like lead curtains and he was unwilling to open them again. Raito rested securely in his arms and the pillows on his bed were beginning to feel irresistible.
Perhaps he was feeling tired because he could sleep easily now. Raito had all but ensured him that his love was returned. The brunette was softening up. He bragged that he no longer feared death.
L was at peace.
His last thought before losing consciousness against the soft lull of the television and the warmth of Raito's steadily beating heart was that Raito Yagami was the center of his universe. He loved Raito.
More than anything else.
--
Chibi Matt: -watching from two houses away with binoculars- Damn. Nothing happened.
Chibi Raito: -sleeeeeep…-
Chibi L: -moar sleeeeeep…-
Me: Well, readers. Any guesses as to what just happened?
Chibi Misa: And there you have it. More stuff for you to giggle over. Sorry for the wait, but it's nearing the end of the school year and teachers ALWAYS decide they want to pile homework on you at the last minute. Sucks, huh?
Me: FOUR GIANT ASSIGNMENTS IN ENGLISH DUE FIVE DAYS APART FROM EACH OTHER. I am sad.
Chibi Misa: Well, you read it. Might as well tell Swirl what you thought, huh? Cookies for you. Cyber cookies.
Matt: The kind that doesn't sit in your browser and tell people in Guatemala about all the porn you've been watching, mind you.
Chibi Misa: Review, review, review!