DS
Disclaimer: This is fanfiction. Honestly. For all you know, I'm worth about as much as one third of the filament in a broken incandescent lightbulb. Also, for what it's worth, George Lucas owns the world. You just don't know it yet.
Me: Guess who I got to see on May 19th?
Chibi Raito: Barack Obama.
Me: YESSSSSSSSSS!! Live and in person! He actually came to my puny little city. I feel blessed.
Chibi L: Indeed.
Me: OBAMA BARACK'S MY SOCKS!
Chibi Misa: He Baracks Swirl's world.
Chibi L: This, however, is not a political campaign. This is a fanfic.
Me: Fine. But I'm tired of having stupid, old oil-barons in office who couldn't speak a single sentence if their lives depended on it. Thus ends my political tirade. Enjoy the show.
Chibi Misa: Read, review, and relax!
D S 17
"GET OUT OF MY SON'S BED!!"
Things happened very quickly after that.
L had been sleeping quite peacefully before Soichiro so rudely whacked him over the head with Raito's curtain rod. The next thing he knew, he was rolling about on Raito's floor, whining miserably for a reason briefly unknown to him. L then noticed an annoying, sharp throb in the corner of his eye. His head hurt. Soichiro was yelling. Raito woke up and yelled too. Sachiko hollered from some distant place beyond the hall and Sayu squeaked somewhere as well. All in all, the room had become quite noisy. L instantly decided that he didn't like it very much and he wanted it to go away.
L focused all of his energy into the floor, hoping to melt into it and away from this nonsense as quickly as possible.
This did not work.
L complained quite loudly when this did not work.
L's complaining amplified his nasty headache.
Damn.
--
(…)
(…?)
(…!)
(!!)
(!#&?!)
Raito really prided himself with his stellar reaction time. Being the star tennis player that he was, his arms could swing rackets right and left, just in time to deflect the ball exactly where he wanted it. Raito's reflexes scored him points in every game he played. His hand eye coordination stood unparalleled in all of Japa-
And then Ryuzaki was on the floor.
Damn.
The shock of it all was just too much for Raito's inhuman reflexes to handle. So he sat there for a moment or two, staring, blinking, wondering, observing the curious sight before him. Strange, wasn't it? There Soichiro was, face a delightful shade of shimmering red. Sayu squealed in the hall and tugged at her undone hair. Soichiro yelled something. What was it? Hmm…
And then there was Ryuzaki, shielding the back of his skull with his arms and complaining about something or another. Freak. Always complaining. He really needed to stop.
Hmm.
Wait.
…Oh.
Ohhhhhhhhh…
Raito was in shock and had no idea what to do about it. Maybe… if he waved his arms around… no. Too much. Raito refused. Perhaps he should have been yelling.
Yes.
Once he found his voice (which had been hiding somewhere down in his gut for the past few seconds), Raito yelled, "Dad! Dad, stop it!"
"GET OUT OF MY SON'S ROOM YOU SON OF A BITCH!"
"Dad! Stop!"
"-CHIEF OF POLICE AND I CAN HAVE YOU PUT IN JAIL FOR THE REST OF YOUR LI-"
"Dad, stop! Put it down! He's a friend! He's a-"
"-EVER COME BACK AGAIN I'LL SHOVE MY FOOT RIGHT UP YOUR-"
"Dad!" Raito grabbed a hold of the curtain rod and pulled it back over Soichiro's shoulder. "Dad, stop! He's my friend! He's my friend!"
"Yes! Friend! Friend!" Ryuzaki repeated shrilly with his knees curled pathetically into his chest and his arms stiffly crossed over the back of his neck.
Soichiro, fumes fizzling from his balding head, gasped and huffed with overexertion. He held his end of the curtain rod on high and forced Raito to focus all of his strength on pulling the other end down. Soichiro glared over his shoulder at his son, eyes dry and bloodshot. "Raito, what are you talking about?" he wheezed.
Meanwhile, Ryuzaki slowly curled himself into a ball, assuming the likeness of a recently dead spider.
Raito glanced pathetically at him from around Soichiro's heaving shoulders.
"Dad, he's…" Raito honestly dropped off. What was Ryuzaki? Was Ryuzaki Ryuzaki? If Ryuzaki was Ryuzaki, what would Soichiro do about Ryuzaki? Raito couldn't possibly tell Soichiro the mini-death's name.
But…
Soichiro saw…
Soichiro knew…
Each muscle in Raito's body tightened to critical tension. Soichiro saw. He… saw. He hit Ryuzaki in the head with a curtain rod. Hit him. Hit him.
Hit…
Oh.
Oh, oh, oh, oh, oh.
No.
Ryuzaki was…
He wasn't.
He wasn't actually…
"Raito! Raito, I know what's going on. I know who this man is! This is the one who's been causing you so much trouble!" Soichiro foamed and roared.
Oh, fuck. Soichiro really did recognize him. He really knew. This was it. Raito's cover was completely blown. Soichiro was going to arrest Ryuzaki for being Kira and send Raito to a funny farm for the rest of his life. Soichiro knew…
Raito's life was… over.
"Y-yes, Dad," Raito's voice began to shake along with the pitiful hold he had on the curtain rod, "This… this is Ryu-"
"Ryuga. Ryuga Hideki."
Ryuzaki stood up casually as if nothing had happened, was happening, or ever would happen for that matter. He brushed his pants off, smoothed his hair, and flicked a fleck of dirt off of his sleeve. Raito's jaw clamped shut.
"R-Ryuga… Hideki?" Soichiro muttered and lowered his end of the curtain rod.
"Yes," replied Ryuzaki, shifting his weight from one leg to the other. "I have many classes in common with Raito-kun. I planned to introduce myself sometime today, but it appears I have slept too long."
Soichiro and Raito both gaped like fish. "Well, wa- w- how- why were you sleeping in my son's bed?" Soichiro stammered.
"Raito-kun and I studied late last night and we both got tired, so we went to sleep."
"How did you get in?"
"I climbed through the window."
"Why?"
"Raito-kun informed me that his father did not like having strange men in the house. I assume that he was correct, yes?"
Soichiro stole a flabbergasted glance at his silently awed son. Raito felt the need to say something. "Well, it's true," he grumbled.
"I see I have disrespected you with my actions," Ryuzaki droned with a characteristic, prehistoric slump of the posture. "Please accept my apologies."
"I… accept. Now… how were you studying? What were you studying?" grilled Soichiro.
"Oh, not much, Yagami-san. Basic law. We went through some of Raito-kun's books and I accidentally knocked the bookcase over. I hid in the closet before you came up. Again, I am sorry."
"That's… that's fine." Soichiro blinked, bewildered and winded. Sayu peered curiously from the doorframe. Raito's father drew in a breath as if he wished to speak again. "So you aren't… Mikami Teru?"
Oh for the love of cotton candy and all that was holy. Raito nearly melted then and there with relief and shame, simultaneously. He assumed the worst and almost got himself and Ryuzaki killed. Soichiro didn't think Ryuzaki was Ryuzaki. He only suspected the mini-death of being Raito's secret love interest. Stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid…
"Mikami Teru?" Ryuzaki questioned curiously with his wide panda eyes, "Who is this?"
"Boyfriend," Raito grumbled.
"Ah!" The mini-death raised his thumb to his lips, "You flow that way? I never would have guessed. But this is not my business and it changes nothing. In any case, I am quite happy for you, Raito-kun."
"Thanks," muttered Raito.
An awkward sort of draft rolled through the room.
"I suppose… I'll be downstairs, then." Soichiro decided with a determined, frazzled nod. He glanced once more at the slouching, ceaselessly-gazing Ryuzaki as he bumbled out the door. "Sayu," he mumbled at his daughter, "come along. It's impolite to stare." The anxious little girl blinked quietly before beating a hasty retreat from the doorframe.
Raito and Ryuzaki were both left in deafening silence. The brunette glared stupidly at the door, mind still making shoddy attempts to register what had just happened to him. The brunette was confused. Very, very confused.
Raito's mind was not programmed for confusion. It searched for reactions to this foreign emotion, delving into the depths of the most forsaken, dusty shelves in the far reaches of his subconscious. Given the situation, it decided unanimously that Raito had better argue about it, because arguing was fun and it was quite easily done. This ease comforted Raito's brain.
So Raito drew his eyebrows down, snarled, and spat, "Ryuga Hideki? That's the best you could come up with?"
--
"Given that you had already disclosed half of my name, I saw no other choice," stated L. "And it was the only name I could think of at the time."
"Ryuga Hideki!" Raito swore, "That's the most ridiculous thing I've ever heard! You look nothing like him!"
"Perhaps, but I had no other choice, Raito-kun. Be thankful that I saved you." L defended.
Raito stood in his spot and stewed for a moment or two like an aggravated pressure cooker. He blinked furiously and words knotted on his tongue. "You're human!" he blurted finally.
Ah! The meat of the matter. L was human. So there. L was…
L was human.
L was human.
Suddenly, he became painfully aware of everything around him. He really was human, wasn't he? Human…
Alive.
The air… it smelled different. Not distant like before. Not dull and mellowed out. L could smell something buttery crackling on the stove downstairs. Flaky. Delightfully light and crunchy. Acrid. Slightly burnt. Abandoned for a moment on the skillet as Sachiko rushed to the bottom of the stairwell, hearkening to the ruckus in Raito's room…
The cars on the street. The traffic from miles away. A car horn. Seven birds chirping outside. Eight? The latch on a door clinked shut in a nearby house. Sayu. Babbling at one hundred miles an hour to an unwilling audience. L had always been able to hear exceptionally well, but never… quite like this.
The cotton in his sweater. Was it… dirty? Oily? Did it stink? No… L couldn't smell it. But he'd worn it for so long. Soft. His pants were too long. Too loose. They tickled his toes. His hair. It brushed against his eyelashes. Strange… There were a lot more grooves in Raito's floor than L realized.
And Raito…
God, was he gorgeous in the morning. Golden, vibrant halo of bed-head. Blush. Angry blush. Slim. Thin. Not skinny, though. Tough, lean muscle. Fast, agile, sleek. Went well with his silver tongue. Smooth and flawless jaw line. Powerful lips. Amber eyes. A thousand shades of earth and honey. Glowed golden in Saturday's yellow morning light.
(Like an angel?)
"What are you staring at?" grumbled the brunette.
Growl. Vibrations. Mm… Not shallow and not deep. Just right.
"Seriously, what are you staring at?"
Wow.
And then, for the second time that morning, L's head hurt. He lost sight of Raito. This upset L, as he thought he hadn't seen something so perfect in his life. It then occurred to L that the reason for his change in vision was that Raito had punched him for staring.
(Had Raito… touched him?)
Physical boy.
Well, L was quite physical too.
He regained his senses and bent his palms against the floor before springing back and aiming a kick at the brunette's chin. He connected. Connected. Raito's skin was surprisingly warm. Soft… "Raito-kun," he announced, "We're fighting."
Raito stumbled into the wall and stopped himself with his palm. He rebounded into the room and yelled, "You don't think I know that, you stupid prick?" The brunette punched again, catching the side of L's face. Dear heaven, did it hurt. But L loved it. The way the pain spread instantly through his face and his neck cricked at the sudden movement…
It all felt so real!
L felt something coil and tighten in his stomach. He felt lighter, faster, and stronger than he ever had before. Adrenaline pumped through his system and he decided that if Raito wanted to fight, the brunette would have his fight.
So L regained his balance and charged Raito straight into the wall. The brunette's back collided with the wall and a gale of air rushed noisily out of his lungs. "Ryuzaki!" he hissed as he palmed L in the jaw, "Someone is going to hear this!"
"I suppose you're right," L conceded, artfully ignoring Raito's hand, "But that doesn't make me want to stop."
Raito growled and shoved the mini-death's face to the side. "What if I beat you up? Will that make you want to stop?"
"Perhaps," L mused around a sore neck, "Though I doubt you could."
"Ryuzaki…" Raito hissed, "I'm warning you. I'm human, I'm angry, and I've been holding back for the past few fights we've had. I know a few weaknesses of yours that you haven't found out yet."
"Really?"
"Yeah, and if you don't stop, you might find out sooner than you want to."
"Really, Raito?" goaded L, twisting his head to face Raito, despite the terrible pressure on his jaw, "Then show me these weaknesses. I am quite curious."
Raito smirked. "You asked for it."
And then, L was knocked completely off of his feet. His knees folded up under him and he curled around himself like a broken accordion. Pain… Unbelievable pain… Mind-numbing, gut-wrenching, bone-jarring, disgusting, horrifying, nauseating agony.
Raito had… kicked him.
…There of all places.
L curled up like an armadillo and bit down on his tongue. Every limb, hands and feet and whatever else, shot to a central point. He rolled around for a second, hoping that the pain would somehow dissipate into the atmosphere. L thought he heard Raito laughing.
Stupid Raito.
Stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid-
"You remember that," Raito cackled. L cracked open one eye just to see Raito recite in a very Shakespearean manner, "And with this power, I will control you."
L felt quite miffed at the biased nature of his pain. He was a strong believer in equality, so he thought it only fair that his agony be shared evenly throughout the room. So he somersaulted toward Raito, aimed, and returned the favor.
Raito was cut off mid 'oh no you don't' and he went careening to the floor. He curled up and he cursed with his tongue in his teeth in much the same way L had. The brunette rolled onto his other side, much in the same way L had. There were currently two men writhing about on Raito's floor in like states of infernal agony, differing only in that one was further along in his suffering than the other.
"Ryuzaki," Raito hissed through a tangled mass of elbows and knees, "you dirty bastard."
L growled, "Perhaps you should stop calling me that. I'm Ryuga Hideki, you know."
"Well, fuck you, Ryuga Hideki."
"Some other time. Right now, I do not think it would work…"
Raito made a strange, strangled, gargling noise in the back of his throat.
L lay there on the floor as his pain gradually began to dissolve. He was really, truly human now, wasn't he? He hadn't felt anything so terrifically excruciating in his life. Being human used to feel wonderful until a minute ago.
Wonderful or not, L now had to face the predicament of his lifetime. He was no longer intangible. He was now a part of the human world. L could feel pain. He could get hurt.
L could die.
And so could Raito.
--
Really, Raito should have foreseen it. Two things, actually. The first of which being Ryuzaki's imminent retaliation for his kick to the groin. The second of which being his father's curiosity.
Ryuzaki, however, never ceased to amaze.
"Oh yes," he replied casually with a sip of his sugar-laden coffee, "I assure you, this is true. My parents deeply disliked me for the color of my eyes. I was born in Liverpool and both my father and my mother had blue eyes. I have black eyes. Terribly strange, you see."
"Yes," mused Soichiro suspiciously, "Very, very strange."
Well, it was Soichiro's fault for asking Ryuzaki about his past, anyway. Raito had expected the ex-mini-death to whip some bullshit story out of his ass, but he had to admit, he was thoroughly impressed.
"I digress," observed Ryuzaki with another casual sip. "Since my family disliked me so, they shut me in a wooden crate at a very young age. They only allowed me out every once in a while. Bathroom breaks, you know. My mother owned a candy shop, so she fed me anything no one else bought. I grew quite accustomed to sweet things, as you can see," Ryuzaki dropped another sugar cube into his coffee and stirred it in.
"As I grew older, I learned English by listening to my mother argue with her customers. I learned to read because my father was deaf and he required subtitles at the bottom of the television screen, which I could watch through the slits in my crate. I knew only how to complain since half of my vocabulary was made up of expletives, so my mother tossed the day's crossword and su-do-ku puzzles into my crate in order to shut me up. I was left alone much of the time with these puzzles and I became quite good at them."
"But you didn't have a pen," growled Soichiro.
"Precisely," said Ryuzaki. "I memorized each of my entries."
"I see…"
Ryuzaki cast a bland look at Raito's father. "I must apologize for my posture. You see, as I grew, my living space did not. It has ruined my back. Again, I apologize."
"No, that isn't necessary," Soichiro remarked, obviously fascinated.
"Thank you," said Ryuzaki. "As I was saying, I became quite good at puzzles. They further strengthened my knowledge. At night, when it was too dark to see, I was left with nothing to do but think to myself. I could not sleep, you see, because I only ate sweet things. I still do not sleep well, simply because I am used to sleepless nights."
"Go on," hummed Soichiro, who looked far more interested in this narrative than Raito found necessary. He sat at the table, chin resting on the palm of one hand, eyes attentive and bright. Raito sat bemusedly in the chair next to Ryuzaki, trying not to seem as enthralled by the ex-mini-death's imagination as he actually was. Sayu sat bravely next to Soichiro, swinging her legs back and forth and sipping a glass of milk through a pink bendy-straw. Sachiko eavesdropped from the kitchen.
"My life continued in this way for twenty years. Eventually, my mother and father grew bored of me. They snuck me onto a cargo ship destined for Tokyo Bay. I stayed silent the entire trip, fearing that I would be thrown overboard. I do not know how to swim. Once I was back on dry land, however, I wasted no time in making as loud a commotion as I could manage. I sensed an opportunity to escape my prison once and for all. Once the crate opened, I shot out and ran as fast as I could. You would be surprised how fast one can run on an empty stomach, especially when one has been trapped in a crate all one's life."
"Yes," mused Soichiro. "And no one caught you?"
"Of course not."
"I find it odd that Sakura TV never mentioned a story about a man shipped to Tokyo in a crate."
"Ah, yes. Well, I suppose a city the size of Tokyo has many more interesting stories to tell."
"Perhaps, but I still find that story of yours a bit… incredible."
"Life would be quite mundane without an incredible story of survival now and then, would it not?"
Soichiro sighed. "And how is it that you found your way into my son's university?"
"Well…"
And Ryuzaki went on a fantastic verbal crusade. He described feeling lost and alone in the back alleys of Tokyo for several months, dumpster-diving for candy bars and gutter-surfing for quarters. He visited a soup kitchen once and disliked the food. His first job was as a personal garbage disposal at a doughnut joint. He wandered about Tokyo for a year or two, like a job-seeking graveyard ghost, offering to take any job that involved food. Ryuzaki then got a job at a bookstore, which conveniently closed and dropped off of the face of the earth after he left. There, he read every book and solved every Sherlock Holmes whodunit mystery ever written.
A nameless, recently retired To-Oh professor recognized his talents and offered him the opportunity to go to school for free. And now, there he was, twenty-three years old, homeless, and quite content with his life.
Soichiro nodded, perhaps accepting Ryuzaki's story, definitely accepting Ryuzaki's insanity, and ending the conversation then and there.
Sayu continued swinging her legs cutely from the chair. She gazed at the ex-mini-death and said, "Ryuga-san, don't you have a house?"
"No," replied Ryuzaki.
"That's sad," whined Sayu. "Where do you go after school?"
"The library," said Ryuzaki.
"Which library?" quizzed Soichiro.
"Oh, none in particular. Whichever is closest to me at the time."
Sly little bastard, that Ryuzaki. He always had an ambiguous answer to anything. Raito sat beside him, relaxed and politely bored-looking as ever. He really hoped his father wouldn't ask anything too specific. Before Soichiro had a chance to open his mouth again, however, Sachiko burst into the room.
"Well, now that we've all gotten to know each other," she beamed unusually brightly in Soichiro's general direction. Raito's father got the hint and grumbled to himself. "It was nice meeting you," he addressed the ex-mini-death as he rose from his chair. "It's always nice to meet one of my son's friends." And then, he addressed Raito. "I'll be at work. So long."
"Bye," said Raito.
Sachiko chattered pleasantly as Soichiro grudgingly slipped his coat on and walked out the door. Both Raito and Ryuzaki stared after him. "Working on Sunday," Ryuzaki remarked to the room, "I admire your father, Raito-kun."
"Yeah, well he's got a really important job!" bounced Sayu. "He's working on the Kira case!"
Sachiko suggested quickly, "Sayu! Why don't you bake something for our guest?"
"Oh yes!" The ex-mini-death piped up instantly. "Raito-kun has brought me pieces of your cake. It is quite delicious."
Sayu glowed pink with pride and flattery. "You really think so?" She jumped up and down before dashing into the kitchen and complaining to her mother about how Soichiro probably wouldn't let the poor, homeless man with the eyes live in the house.
Raito sat quietly at Ryuzaki's side and considered his feelings. He felt horribly out of control regarding Ryuzaki's metamorphosis into a human being. He felt fluttery, almost. Like he'd woken up in someone else's body and he didn't know what to do with it. How would he keep from dying? Matt didn't seem at all fit to be his bodyguard. Raito got the impression that the brunette mini-death slacked off too often.
No.
He couldn't think about that now. Ryuzaki was right earlier when he said the Shinigami hadn't been making attempts on his life. If he was lucky, their hiatus would last longer. Raito just had to convince Matt to stick by him.
As he was thinking about this, another matter presented itself.
Where was he going to hide Ryuzaki?
He couldn't just allow the ex-mini-death to wave farewell and walk off into the street. He just… couldn't.
What if…
Something happened to him?
"Raito-kun does not seem happy," Ryuzaki remarked offhandedly.
No. He wasn't happy. Not only could Raito die, but…
Ryuzaki could die too.
"I'm fine," Raito replied. "Just wondering how you managed to come up with all that crap in five seconds."
"It is an art," said Ryuzaki.
Raito sighed, trying to empty his head of depressing thoughts. "Guess I'm going to have to get used to calling you Ryuga, huh?"
"Or Hideki. Or Hideki-chan."
"That's way too cute for you. Doesn't fit you at all."
"Raito-kun does not think I am cute?"
"No way."
"Oh, Raito-kun. That makes me sad," said Ryuzaki.
"You can't pull that trick on me. I invented it yesterday," retorted Raito.
"Ah. But it worked so well on me," the ex-mini-death sighed forlornly with his thumb in his teeth.
"Now you're just being a smartass," Raito grumbled.
Instead of coming up with yet another smart comment, Ryuzaki drew his knees up to his chest on his chair, tilted his head comically, and asked, "How does one go about entertaining oneself on a Sunday?"
"Why do you ask?" inquired Raito.
"I am quite bored," said Ryuzaki.
To the point, wasn't he?
"Well, we can watch TV, we can go for a walk, we can sit in my room and scheme all day-"
"The last of which I have had quite enough of."
"Fine. I don't want to leave the house, though," remarked Raito. He rose from his dining chair and marched to the sofa.
"Still paranoid, are we?"
For more reasons than Ryuzaki could possibly know…
"No, just tired. I got a rude awakening this morning," Raito grumbled to himself as he grabbed the remote and turned the television on.
Ryuzaki was silent. Raito refused to turn around and watch his reaction. He could feel the ex-mini-death's purposeful footsteps padding closer. For a brief moment, Ryuzaki was directly behind him and the brunette tensed as he walked by. The ex-mini-death settled on the other half of the sofa. "Raito-kun is worried."
"I am not," huffed Raito.
The ex-mini-death circled an arm around Raito's waist and the brunette listlessly allowed himself to be pulled down. "You do not have to worry," said Ryuzaki.
"Sayu is going to see this," Raito griped from his spot on Ryuzaki's lap.
"It does not seem to bother you," remarked the panda-eyed human.
"Well it does," complained Raito.
"Then get up."
"No."
"Why not?"
"Too much work."
The Millennium Falcon glittered across the television screen and the translated voices of Han Solo and C-3PO mingled with Sayu's kitchen humming. Raito was half afraid that Sayu would peek underneath the hanging cabinets and see her older brother draped across the lap of another man. Half afraid. But she and Sachiko zipped around the kitchen, talking to one another and ignoring Raito and Ryuzaki completely.
"It is quite a nice day," Ryuzaki remarked suddenly. "I think we should go outside."
"Let's stay in," Raito countered immediately. "I'm too lazy to go outside anyway."
Ryuzaki said nothing.
--
Something was not right, and L knew exactly what it was. Granted, it was a preposterous thought. Raito's pride would not allow it, and under any other circumstances, L would assume that Kira was merely worried about his own welfare.
Kira, however, announced last night that he was no longer afraid to die.
He was unafraid, and yet he did not want to leave the house. He knew that if he left, L would go with him.
And the notion struck L like a brick wall.
Raito was afraid that something would happen to L.
…Well.
L glanced down at Raito. The brunette lay on his side in L's lap, bemusedly tapping the cushions of his couch with his fingertips and looking profoundly angry at the wall behind the television. L ran his fingers through Raito's smooth, glossy hair. He sighed, "Raito-"
"I hate being emotionally attached to people," Raito interrupted blandly.
"Really," deadpanned L, derailed completely from his previously sentimental track.
"Yes. It's horrible. This is exactly why I hate women. They're so clingy and they think it's my job to worry about them all the time. I hate it. I hate it."
"I see," said L. He quickly assessed the situation and concurred that Raito was letting off steam again, so any opinion of L's would be cast aside without consideration.
"Y'know, I actually considered screwing a guy once. They're not like women. Wham, bam, goodbye Sam. Easy as that. No 'call me later' crap. At least I'm not like that. At least I wasn't like that. Now look. I'm emotionally attached to a guy. Of all people. Me!" Raito waved an arm in the air and let it drop miserably to the wooden floor.
"Yes," L hummed sagely, "quite a problem."
Raito twisted around in L's lap and settled down with his back to the couch cushions. He glared up at L with honestly vexed, angry brown eyes. "Are you making fun of me?"
L blinked down at the miffed brunette in his lap. "No," he said.
Raito grumbled on. "Women. Always babbling about how much they love you. All of them are infected with mushy, emotional, chronic diarrhea of the mouth. One of my past dates got angry at me because I planned to go to a different college than she did. I am not about to change my life for a stupid, lovesick teenage puppy. I can't believe she thought I could stand her until college anyway. She was always making comments about how cute I looked in green. When I didn't wear the piece-of-shit bracelet she made for me, she cried. I hate women," Raito repeated, "I hate them."
L blinked flatly. "Are you quite finished?"
"No."
"Well, then. By all means, continue," deadpanned L.
Raito mimicked L's careless blink. "You don't want to hear any of this, do you?"
"No," said L.
The brunette's shoulders slumped, as if the comment relieved him somehow. "Good," he sighed selfishly and crossed his arms, "because I'd hate to be emotionally glued to a guy who wants to hear about all my fucking problems."
"Happy day," remarked L.
"Because I'm not a woman," said Raito.
"There is no doubt in my mind," sighed L as he ensnared another tuft of Raito's hair. "Though it does feel nice, doesn't it?"
"What?"
"Being anchored to someone."
"Ryu… Hideki, I'm a college guy. The last thing I want is commitment."
"I suppose. But why is it that people get married, then?" L quizzed with a tilt of the head.
"Oh, God, Hideki, don't tell me about marriage," the brunette lamented and smacked himself in the forehead.
"Fine," L deadpanned. "I do not think I could stand to sleep in the same room as you until death do us part anyway."
"Good."
L thought it a strange thing to say.
"You guys are talking about marriage?" Sayu squawked from the kitchen. L turned his head quickly around and Raito casually stretched out of his spot on the ex-mini-death's lap. The little Yagami girl stood in the doorway, looking confused and strangely excited all at once. Her eyebrows jutted out at odd angles and her nose was scrunched up on one side.
"We were just talking about how stupid it is," yawned Raito.
"He was just talking about how stupid it is," L pointed an accusing finger at the brunette. "I find it interesting."
"That's because your head is full of flowers," griped Raito loudly.
L cast him a strange glance.
"Well…" hummed Sayu in a manner L wasn't quite comfortable with. "That's kinda'… weird. The cake will be out in just a few minutes." She then tip-toed into the room and whispered, "Not all girls are like that, Raito, but the ones that aren't are sluts."
"What?" Raito deadpanned. And then L got to watch as Raito's delicately tanned skin blossomed slowly in a mild shade of angry red. He droned, "Sayu, how long have you been standing there?"
"Oh, just long enough," she giggled.
"How long is long enough?" Raito growled gravely.
"Raito and Hideki, sittn' in a tree…"
Raito vaulted over the back of the couch and marched purposefully after his sister. Sayu squealed and raced around the kitchen island.
L didn't bother getting up.
"K-I-S-S-I-N-G!" giggled a hysterical Sayu from the kitchen.
"Sayu, if you don't shut your mouth right now…" growled Raito.
"What are you two fighting about?" demanded Sachiko.
"First comes love, then comes marriage-"
"Shut up, Sayu! My God!"
"Sayu, stop antagonizing your brother!"
The commotion in the kitchen lasted quite a while. L leaned back over the top of the couch and peered into the epicenter of the action. Sayu had tactfully hidden behind Sachiko and Raito was indignantly glaring at both of them. The brunette stood unusually calmly in his defiance, casting a dark, ominous, silently angry shadow across the room. He could tell by the look on Sachiko's face that Sayu had blabbed her way into infamy. Sayu's little smile was withering in the fury of Raito's confined, boiling rage.
L began to feel sorry for her.
"Raito-kun!" he yelled into the kitchen. The angry brunette lurched slowly around, eyes glaring, jaw set, lips pressed to a fine, displeased line. "Leave your sister alone," said L.
Raito glared at L. L glared at Raito. Raito turned around and glared at Sayu. Sayu gazed miserably at L. L grinned at Sayu. Sayu hid.
"Now what is going on, here?" Sachiko asked unhappily.
"Nothing is going on," denied Raito with a slouch.
"Well something is going on, otherwise you two wouldn't be at each other's throats. Now tell me what all of this nonsense is about."
Neither Raito nor Sayu said a word.
In the interest of keeping the house a war-free zone, L intervened. He got up from the couch and sashayed to the kitchen as if nothing had happened. "A simple misunderstanding is all. My apologies."
Sachiko blinked at him as if she never expected him to be part of the problem. She glanced back at Sayu, who pursed her lips and looked away. Raito didn't wait for his cue. He smoothed his hair and marched back into the living room with his tail held high.
L watched him leave before turning to the remaining occupants of the room.
"You are going to bake me a cake," L stated simply. Sayu blinked at him. L continued, "This argument never happened. You remember nothing. These are not the droids you're looking for."
Feeling very, very silly, L slid on his heels and performed a quick about-face before bumbling back into the living room. He slid into his previous spot next to an eerily subdued Raito Yagami. "Feeling better?" he asked the stoic, stone face.
"Yes," it replied.
"Nice and calm?" asked L.
"Nice and calm," it replied.
L sat in estranged silence for another second or so. "The cake smells delicious," he announced to everyone in the house.
"I think the argument ruined the cake," Raito said earnestly.
"Nonsense!" declared L. "Nothing ruins a cake! Not sun, nor rain, nor sleet, nor hail."
A tiny, half-sad giggle came from the kitchen. Raito shot it an evil glare and L turned just quickly enough to see Sayu retreat behind the island. The oven beeped and Sayu shuffled quietly over to it. Once the cake had cooled off, Sachiko brought one plate for Raito and one for L. They said their thanks and both Raito and L's cakes were eaten in less than twenty seconds.
By the same person.
"Even more delicious than I remember," remarked L after swallowing the last of his second slice. "You don't suppose I could have another, do you?" he asked with his thumb to his lips.
"Of course!" smiled Sachiko. Meanwhile, Sayu hung back in the kitchen, just watching.
L ate his third slice, then a fourth. Cake tasted so much better now… He never realized how soft and spongy and buttery and sweet it was until then. He wasted no time in complementing the chef. "If I could eat cake like this all day every day, I would be in heaven."
"Well…" Sayu finally spoke up, drawing a circle on the wooden floor with her toe, "Maybe I could bake you one every day…"
"That would be grand," L fantasized.
As the panda-eyed human floated around in cake-batter-la-la-land, Sachiko excused herself from the room with the excuse that she had a few errands to run. She asked her daughter if she wanted to go as well. Sayu declined. Sachiko left.
An expanse of nothingness was left in her wake.
And then, Sayu spoke.
"Um…" she tentatively approached the couch. "Raito… I'm sorry. I really shouldn't have done that."
Raito was silent for a while. "You didn't tell her anything, did you?" he grumbled.
Sayu's eyes sparkled and she ran over to the opposite bend of the couch. "So it's true? You guys are-"
"Yes," Raito bit, visibly struggling to restrain his annoyance.
"Oh," Sayu squeaked and twiddled her thumbs. "Sorry."
Raito slumped in his seat and sighed. "It's fine."
Sayu hesitated for a long while. This was all the silence L needed to polish off his fifth piece of cake. He set his fork and his plate aside. Then, Sayu timidly broke the hum of the television and the clinking of dinnerware. "I don't mean to be rude or anything, but… are you guys really…?"
L abandoned Raito with a nudge, a raised eyebrow, and an airy glance to the television screen. The brunette glared at him, then blew a puff of air at his bangs. "Yeah. It's true."
"That's so cool!" Sayu bubbled, bouncing on the sofa. "That's like, the cutest thing ever! Wait till I tell-"
"You aren't. Telling. Anybody." Raito resolved.
Sayu's excitement boiled off fairly quickly. "Okay," she yielded and returned to her previous state of embarrassment.
"You can't tell anybody," Raito reinforced, "Not mom, not dad, not any of your friends. Nobody. Okay?"
"Okay…" Sayu squeaked.
Raito sighed for the umpteenth time that day. "I'm not trying to be mean, but if Dad finds out, he'll kill me."
Sayu nodded.
L felt it was about time he interjected. "Yes. It would make me quite sad if Raito were killed. Then I would have no one to bring me your cake."
Raito elbowed him in the side. Sayu giggled. "You guys are so cute! Raito, you're all mad and Ryuga-san, you're all… wow."
"Is this a good wow or a bad wow?" L asked.
"It's a good wow. I mean, you're really weird-looking, but-"
"Sayu!" Raito warned.
"Calm down," commanded L. "I am well aware of how strange I look. You have told me this numerous times, Raito-kun."
Raito rolled his eyes.
"You don't look anything like the actor," said Sayu.
"I am well aware of this as well," L replied.
"You guys are still really cute," Sayu bubbled cutely on her side of the sofa. "I came into your room this morning, Raito, and I saw you guys all cuddled up. That's why I eavesdropped on you guys. Sorry." She scratched her scalp nervously and grinned.
"Ah. So you are the cause of the commotion this morning?" L quirked an invisible eyebrow.
"Um, yeah. Sort of. Sorry."
"Hmm," hummed L. He contentedly pulled a scowling, deadweight brunette back into his lap.
--
He was doing it again.
That cool thing where Ryuzaki acted as if nothing was wrong.
But perhaps Raito should have followed his lead. It would do him no good, after all, to throw a fit. He had nothing to gain from an explosion of anger, much less toward his little sister, so Raito swallowed his pride and extinguished it.
Suddenly, something popped out of the television.
It was Matt.
"You two are unusually snuggly," he said. In response to this, Raito glanced over at his little sister, who was still mooning at Ryuzaki and himself, thankfully oblivious. He then yawned and stretched out of the ex-mini-death's lap. Ryuzaki eyed Matt queerly. "Raito-kun, do you suppose we could take a walk?"
"I suppose," Raito yawned. "Sayu, we'll be right back."
Sayu pouted. "Can't I come with you?"
"No," replied Raito. "Guy time. You know, just the two of us."
"Fine," she mumbled with a knowing glitter in her eye. "You better come back soon though, just like you said."
"Yes, mom," said Raito. He rose elegantly from the couch, slid leisurely to the door, and waited for Ryuzaki. Panda Eyes slouched along after him.
And then Matt, as if noting something very, very peculiar, slid his lower jaw out and clicked his tongue. "Dude, L," he mumbled, "She can see you. The chick over there."
Ryuzaki and Raito both subtly motioned him out of the television set. Matt ghosted across the ceiling and crouched on the wall near the doorway, eyes wide in puzzlement. Raito wished his sister well before sauntering out the door.
The instant he was outside, Ryuzaki turned to Matt and said, "Laugh, and I will kill you."
"Kill me?" asked Matt.
"No," said Ryuzaki, "but I will be very sad."
Matt appeared to roll the idea about in his head for a while. Eventually, he asked, "Why would I laugh?"
And then, Raito felt his hair being pulled by Ryuzaki. The brunette refused to yelp. Instead, he reached out and evened the score. "Ow," said Ryuzaki.
Matt looked on in loose-limbed wonder. "Dude," he breathed, "you're a fuckin' human!"
"Yes," Ryuzaki mumbled in a half-whine.
"You screwed up big time," gaped Matt.
Ryuzaki fluffed up his scraggly, proverbial raven feathers and growled, "I do not think it's such a bad thing."
Matt appeared to consider this. Very quietly, he hummed and dug his hands into his pockets. He shifted his weight from one leg to the other. "So, I take it you did it for this loser, huh?"
Ryuzaki kept unusually silent. Raito glanced over at him, not entirely liking the sober look in his eyes. Ryuzaki thought for a moment before saying, "There are two sides to this coin, I suppose."
"Yeah," Matt agreed much too quietly. "You can stick with 'em and protect 'em, or you can morph your way straight into their pants. Nice choice, I'd say."
"If you want to put it crudely," muttered the ex-mini-death.
"Yeah," mooned Matt, soul only partially inhabiting the conversation. "Seems like the right thing to do, staying invisible and helping people out. But it's a lot harder than it looks, isn't it? Sometimes people get tired of help. Just want to be close to somebody."
Matt was getting at something, and Raito could smell it. In the midst of his conversation, he'd drifted away from the house and both Ryuzaki and Raito followed him.
Ryuzaki once told Raito that Matt had an 'interesting story.' Perhaps this was part of it. "You had this problem too, didn't you?" he accused.
"Hm? Me? Oh no. Not me. Someone else," answered Matt. "The other Kira, actually."
And now Raito's attention was casually and unassumingly ignited. He raised an eyebrow. "Mello?"
"…Yeah, him. But I don't really want to talk about him right now. He's dead and gone and we aren't. I don't like messing around with dead stuff. Dirty and smelly, you know?" Matt dismissed.
Damn.
Raito would not let Matt off so easily, however.
"You were a friend of Mello's?" the brunette pushed. The mini-death's eyes narrowed slightly in response. Calculating and curious. "And why would you want to know?" Matt asked.
Raito decided to tell him the truth. "Ryuzaki won't tell me anything about him."
"That is not true," the ex-mini-death denied. "I have told you many things."
"Wrong," said Raito.
Ryuzaki sulked.
Matt tilted his head in amusement and stuffed his hands in his pockets. "Well… I'll make you a deal. For every hour I get to play your video games, I'll tell you one thing about him. Whatcha' think?"
Personally, Raito had seen the movie Big Fish and understood the consequences of a loose agreement such as this. "How about… you tell me about Mello in at least fifty words, relevantly, for each hour you get to play video games. And you have to respond relevantly to everything I ask, starting within three minutes of my asking."
"Iz trap set by sneaky Japanese person," hummed Matt in his Sven accent. He considered Raito's proposal for a minute or two, keeping pace with the strolling teen and his previously-inhuman partner by hopping up and down across the gutter. "But… say I deem your question inappropriate. Say I don't want to answer. Can I tell you to ask another question?"
"Then you'll just deny all of my questions," growled Raito.
"Jeez. What do you think I am? A Bond villain?" Matt grouched. He grumbled for another moment before muttering, "Fine. For every five hours, then."
"An hour and a half," bargained Raito.
"Four hours," hissed Matt.
"Two hours," said the brunette.
"Three and a half hours!" yelled Matt.
"Six hours!" yelled Raito.
"One hour!" yelled Matt.
"Seven hours!" yelled Raito.
"Half an hour!" roared Matt.
"Done," Raito replied calmly.
"That's right," bragged Matt. "Just give up."
Raito smirked. Really, he never thought he could get away with it. Matt didn't seem that… well… stupid. Nevertheless, he tried and succeeded. He made a show of his defeat. "You're quite the negotiator."
Ryuzaki snorted at the both of them. "How very Bugs Bunny of you, Raito-kun."
Matt zoned completely. "Bugs Bunny?" he asked, confused. Ryuzaki responded with a nod and nibbled on his thumb. "Yes," said the ex-mini-death, "You know, rabbit season, duck season?"
"You mean wabbit season," corrected Matt.
Raito knew for a fact that Ryuzaki would never agree to say anything of the sort.
And then Matt's lips pursed in agonizing confusion. Realization seeped into his eyes like a slithering cloud of blue in a glass of water. "Wait," he muttered. "What did I agree to, exactly?"
"Fifty words per half an hour," grinned Raito.
"Well I never agreed to it!" the brunette mini-death denied defiantly.
"But I did, and that's all that matters," said Raito.
Matt sulked. "Fine. Be that way. Maybe I let myself get tricked in order to indulge you in all the information you can eat, guilt free."
(Oh really?)
"Awfully nice of you," remarked Raito in his Smart-Alec voice.
As Matt griped and groaned about his unfair contract, Raito formulated his plan of action. Not only did he want information about Mello, but he also wanted another source of protection. If he rented his television out to Matt…
No.
Matt's personality favored wanton disregard of social acceptability. He would play his video games regardless of who else was watching. Raito would be in deep trouble if Soichiro walked in one morning and found his son's television and wii-mote bowling all by themselves.
He would have to bribe Matt. He would have to buy him expensive portable games and expensive wireless headphones. He would have to dedicate a shrine to Final Fantasy in the back of his closet.
Raito had no qualms about doing this. He received an admirable sum of money from his parents, so he was perfectly capable of affording Matt's company.
He proposed this to his roommate to be. "Matt, I'd like to make another proposal to you."
"What, you want an arm?" grumbled Matt in his peculiar over-the-top sort of way. "Here, have my leg too. Don't be shy, Kira! Take it!"
"Actually, I wanted to buy you something."
"Then by all means, do go on," the brunette mini-death smiled sweetly.
"I want to buy you a DS," said Raito. "Maybe a PSP too. I'll even make a special place for you in my closet so you can hang out. How's that sound?"
"There's a catch. There's always a catch," growled Matt spitefully. He took his hands out of his pockets and crossed his arms mistrustfully.
"Well, all I'm asking is that you stay there. You know, just sit there and stuff. Relax. Play your video games. Maybe go out on a walk with Ryuzaki and me once in a while-"
"You want a bodyguard," observed Matt.
Well, now that the cat was out of the bag…
"Yes. Something like that," admitted Raito with a suave flick of the hair.
"Do I get to keep my car?" frowned Matt.
If it would sway his attitude, "Yes."
"And you're paying for all this? No loopholes? No questions asked?"
"Yes."
"Hmm…" hummed the mini-death, snapping the straps on his goggles. "You do know that I'm a video game addict, don't you? I mean, I might just fall in love…"
True… But Raito was clean out of options. Ryuzaki suddenly remarked, "I think he knows when enough is enough." The ex-mini-death's words held more underlying meaning than the ambiguous sugarcoat he surrounded them in, but Raito trusted his judgment. "My offer still stands, Matt," Raito announced diplomatically. "Just let me know when you want to accept."
The oddly-dressed mini-death vaulted effortlessly onto the fence and brooded impishly. "Ho-hum," he sighed. "Guess I'll have to think about it."
--
Me: Om nom nom. Done within a month, yezno?
Chibi Misa: And with finals riding up on your ass…
Me: Oh yes. Because in Montana, we can't possibly get school over with. No. School District 2 just has to drag it on and on and on and on and on and on…
Chibi Raito: And then, in a year, when high school is over, you have to go to college and PAY, which could quite possibly be the end of your life, financially speaking.
Me: I'm stuck between majors. I want an art degree, a degree in writing, and I want to own my own gaming company (the last of which I WILL do, by God. And I will make you play my RPGs. Play them. Plaaayyyy theeeemmmm…). If any of you go to a university with a stellar English program, feel free to advertise. I am also interested in whether or not your university is frequented by good-looking, rich men. 8D
Chibi L: Think of how much money you'll be saving those greedy tuition-monsters by word of mouth instead of glossy USELESS postcards (NYU, you treeslayer).
Chibi Misa: In any case, review. Swirl loves feedback, because it reminds her of food. You know. Feedback. Ha ha. Review, review, review!