Chapter Six

Exposed Love

L stared at the young man, who he had saved from jumping off of a bridge, laying on a bed in front of him. He hadn't been staring at him long. Whammy had just finished attending to Light's health, hooking him up to an IV after a physical exam. L had let him be alone while he worked, stepping out of the bedroom to get a cup of tea.

It was his bedroom, technically, but since he didn't need to sleep anytime soon he was more then able to lend the bed to his guest. He hardly ever slept during investigations, and when he did it was usually a quick nap, often while sitting in his chair. He wouldn't be napping at all this night. He didn't know this stranger and sleeping would put himself at too much of a risk.

There was no way of knowing how much of a threat Light was. L only knew his first name, and it was unlikely that his DNA would reveal any results, as most Japanese citizens didn't have their DNA on file. Despite the low chance, L took no risks and ran the search anyway, yielding the expected results. He also searched the name Light, but yielded too many results. He could narrow the search down by age approximation, but he had no way of knowing where exactly this particular Light lived. Light was not a common name, but it was no shinning gem of originality.

L had gotten a bit tired by the time he arrived at the hotel room, having carried this young man several blocks before they arrived. He avoided the lobby and the annoying hotel staff and climbed a few flights of stairs before getting into the elevator. Whammy was waiting for him at the door ready to take over. L had handed him off then followed them into the room where his spare clothes were kept. L grabbed a set of clothes for himself and his guest, so they would have dry clothes to change into. Whammy changed Light into the outfit while L changed in the living room.

Now the man was lying in his bed in ill-fitting clothes. L was surprised to find that Light was unhealthily skinny. He was naturally muscular, no doubt. Even now L noticed that the hard muscles Light had could be seen through the fabric of his shirt. They tensed up every now and then as Light dreamt; a fascinating process that kept drawing L's gaze. The fact of the matter is that Light was clearly not eating sufficiently.

He was covered in sweat from the fever but shivered constantly. His face was hard in this fitful sleep. His breathing was even. His chest rose and fell softly.

L started to wonder what had driven the young man to the side of the bridge; perhaps a lover's quarrel or a broken heart. Financial destitute was also possible, but the clothes the man wore when L found him seemed to be of good quality before getting ruined in the weather. Maybe he was a runaway. The man L determined to be in the late teens or early twenties, and it was know that many young men lived with their parents through out college.

There was possibility he was a criminal, jumping in remorse for his illegal actions. What ever he was, L would not be able to find out until his guest woke up and was coherent. L bit his thumb, impatient to wait to unravel this puzzle.

Getting bored, he stood up and left the young man on his own to go work on his current big. Or maybe one of the smaller cases taken on by one of his aliases.

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To say Light got a good night's sleep would be a complete and total lie. The fever burned constantly, keeping up an overwhelming flame of discontent through out Light's body. He was unconscious, yet aware of his aching body.

No position he was in felt comfortable. He needed to keep moving to find relief.

There was some moments he was more awake then others. At some moments he was aware that some one was touching him gently. A prick in the arm here, a cool sensation there, and a low voice that was fatherly. It calmed him down some.

Then there were long stretches of time where he was left alone. But he was never truly alone. Weird illusions danced behind his eyelids.

There was a man with dark eyes that sometimes appeared. He would always just watch him silently. Sometimes he felt more real, and then others it was like he was spectral bird, studying him from some perch.

There were sometimes random people. They never seemed to notice Light or the fact that they were in a room. They laughed and talked carelessly with each other. Each one had a large smile and seemed to be having the time of their lives.

Shiori reappeared and reached out her hand as if to stroke Light's hair, but he never quite felt it. He never really liked being touched before but this made him feel like there was a knot in his stomach. With a sad smile she took her hand back and laid down on the bed next to Light. They laid side by side, staring up at the ceiling in comfortable silence.

When Light turned to look at her, she had disappeared and he was alone once more.

Sometimes he dreamed he was watching Mikami, but Mikami, like the random people, didn't notice him. The Mikami he watched was not like the one he knew. This Mikami wasn't cheery and upbeat, but solemn and business-like. Light missed the old Mikami.

There were two boys who looked like Light who taunted him. They claimed to be Hiro and Aya's sons. The taller one, who called himself Sho, said Light was just his replacement. They never really loved him, they just used him to get over the death of their son. He was just a tool. The younger, who gave no name for Light to call him by, told Light that they didn't miss him when he ran away and faked his death. He said they were relieved they didn't have to deal with him now that they had their new child.

Their words stung Light, and he knew they were true. That was why he could never go back. He was a hindrance to everyone he knew.

Worse, he sometimes dreamt about that night. The one in which his life as he knew it ended. He would look at his hands to find them stained red, and he here her voice, accusing him of ruining her life. Her voice, placing the blame on him. Her voice, telling horrifying truths. He felt the presence of his dad, but hers overpowered it.

No, Light did not have a peaceful rest. Everything he had pushed down bubble up in his sleep. He hated it.

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It was the middle of the afternoon by the time Light finally woke up. It took a lot of effort to wake up because everything was so hazy. The first thing Light could make sense of was that the room was bright.

Disoriented, he turned his head to the source of the light. There was a window. It was a wide window with curtains thin enough to let in the light but thick enough to protect privacy. A second thicker set of curtains hung on the frame, but were pulled back.

It would have been a beautiful day if Light didn't feel like he has been hit by a bus. The second thing Light noticed was the pain. He had a big head ache and his checks were flushed. His nose was running, which was unpleasant. Light wished to wipe some off with a tissue, so he reached for a box he knew to be on his nightstand, but instead felt a tugging on his arm.

Surprised, Light shifted to look at his wrist and noticed a needle stuck into it. The needle was connected to a fluid tube. He was wearing an IV. Immediately uncomfortable, Light sat up abruptly.

Pain pulsated in his head and his vision swirled around. Light grabbed onto his head with both has, just wanting the pain to go away. As soon as the pain lessoned Light jerked the IV out and look around to get his bearings.

The room he was in had a large wooden dresser opposite to the bed, a night stand on wither side of the bed, two plush chairs with a small coffee table in front of them, and another small table at the foot of the bed. The bed itself was a king-sized bed with plush covers and four pillows. Several lamps were placed through out the room. Two doors were on the walls, both closed.

A glass of water sat on the nightstand closest to him. He could only assume it was intended for him to drink.

From what Light could tell he was in a hotel and a fancy one at that. How he got there was still fuzzy. He appeared to be alone, and he didn't feel like waiting around for some stranger to come.

Throwing off the covers, Light moved in the bed so that he was sitting with his feet on the floor. That was when he noticed the clothes. He was in a pair of baggy blue jeans and an ill-fitting white long-sleeve shirt. Light knew these were not his clothes which worried him all the more as to what happened.

Light stood up slowly, learning from the sitting up incident. He knew he was ill, with a fever and congestion at the least. He was barefoot. The carpet beneath his feet was thick and soft. He thought absent mindedly back to his childhood. His father's house had nice carpets. He remembered liking to lay on them as he read. And he would always be told to get off them and sit on the couch or in a chair by his… mother. Wincing at the thought of her, Light pushed her to the back of his mind.

He walked slowly to the door, wobbling greatly. He took it step by step. A wave of tiredness hit him, trying to coax him back to the bed and forget his foreign environment, but Light wasn't about to let this feeling control them. He made it over to the first door and leaned on the frame.

Opening it revealed a bathroom, with standard features hotels were known for, but with marble and other high class elements. There was no other door, so this bathroom was private for the bedroom. Sighing, Light closed the door and turned to the other door.

He walked to it, using the wall for support. He reached out and grasped the handle, turning the knob. When he opened the door he saw a room that was brighter then the bedroom. Both curtains were drawn, but artificial light filled the room. There was computer equipment set up through out the sitting area of the room. Several chairs were pushed back up against a wall. One swivel chair with wheel sat in the middle of the room, empty. Closer to the exit two sofas circled a large coffee table. It reminded Light of his own apartment.

It was quit except for the soft, familiar hum of computers. Then, suddenly, a noise brought his attention to the kitchen area. Behind a kitchen island stood a man with jet black hair who was closing a fridge.

The man was staring at him with coal, black eyes. The man stood hunched over slightly, holding a bottle of pink lemonade between two fingers. He paused at first, taking in the sight of Light, but then began unscrewing the cap and took a sip.

"So sleeping beauty is finally awake." He remarked.

Lights eyes narrowed at him. He had already tensed up at the fact he was no longer alone. This man was a stranger, and he had nothing to judge him off of yet but that tart remark.

"Who are you?" Light asked. He was surprised by how groggy his voice was.

"I am the one who should be asking you that. After all, you're my guest here. Who are you?" The coal-eyed man shot back. As he said this he walked over and sat on one of the couches in a casual style, placing the lemonade on the table.

"I am not sure if I want to tell you. Where am I?" Light demanded. He was in no mood to play games with this guy.

"You are in a hotel in downtown Tokyo. Roughly five blocks from where you passed out. Remember?" The man now shifted position, bringing his legs closer to his body and putting his weight on his feet. He bit his thumb and watched Light, waiting for a reaction.

Light stared back at the man as a few clouded memories from last night flooded back into his head. He had been walking around at night but got caught in the storm. He remembered Shiori being there, but not really. He remembered standing on the edge of a bridge, not sure how he got there. Finally he remembered laying on the ground with that same man standing over him.

Light felt embarrassed and exposed. No one had ever seen him so exposed before. No one. The most vulnerable he had ever been before was when he told Shiori and Mikami his past. This was worse. This was a stranger.

He knew the other man probably saw the color flush into his cheeks. "I take it you remember." The man stated.

"I apologize." Light quietly answered. He wasn't really sure what to say. He was as raw as his throat.

They stayed in silence for a few moments until Light got in a short coughing fit. The man waited for him to finish. He must of noticed how it wore Light out, for he gestured for Light to sit down on the opposite couch.

Light mumbled a 'thanks' and sat down. He wasn't sure how to compose himself around this man. He figured the best he could do right now is work on building up that mask again.

"My name is Light Akino. I work at a local bookstore," Light said, with a formal tone in his voice. "What is your name, if I may ask?"

"Ryuzaki. I'm here on business."

"I assume it is in computers? I could help but notice your units."

Ryuzaki's lip twitched into a small smile that disappeared quickly.

"You are right. I don't really want to go into detail at the moment. What I'm more concerned with is your state of health. Light, last night when I attempted to bring you to the hospital, you told me not to. Now why might that be?"

So that was show he was going to go at it. Light was hoping to avoid the topic for awhile with small talk, but Ryuzaki was a man who got straight to the point.

"As I said, I'm an employee at a book store. I don't have health insurance or the money to pay for such a visit." This was true, but it was not the real reason.

"I see." Ryuzaki responded. He seemed to accept the story, but something made Light feel that he didn't.

"I have to thank you for taking me off the streets in my condition. I'm sure it was an inconvenience for you. Why, may I ask, did you choose to do so?"

"I couldn't just leave you where you lay. And, as we have already gone over, you didn't want to go to the hospital. My hands were tied, so to speak."

"I do apologize once again." Light stayed polite. He felt like he was treading water. "Did you hook me up to an IV? Where did you get that?"

"No," Ryuzaki replied, "Actually it was my caretaker, Wallingford. He is medically trained. He also prepares my meals for me."

Light didn't like the idea of yet another stranger being present at his weakest state.

"Where is he now? I don't suppose… never mind." He chickened out of asking what he really wanted. This pussyfooting around the subject was awkward for Light. It has been a long time since he wasn't in complete control of a social situation like this.

"He is in his room, else where in the hotel. If you are hungry, I can call him up. Or if you think you need more medical attention…" Ryuzaki watched as Light turned a bit green at the thought of eating food.

"No, I'm fine. I really should be going now, anyways. I thank you for all you have done for me. If you excuse me…" Light tried to stand up but Ryuzaki got up faster then him and forced him back down onto the couch with his hand pressed into Light's forehead.

"Just as I thought. You still have a high fever and are in no condition to be on your own. I'm calling Wallingford." Ryuzaki took his hand away and took a few steps to the side, whipping out a small cell phone and dialed a number.

As the phone rang Light was still sitting in shock. He hadn't expected the stranger to move so quickly or to touch his forehead. The whole things seemed uncomfortably intimate, but the way Ryuzaki composed himself hinted that he might not be the best man when it came to social customs. The spot where he had touched was tingling. Light touched it absent mindedly with his fingers but then snapped back into reality and looked at Ryuzaki, who was just finishing up the phone call.

He spoke in too quite of a voice for Light to comprehend, but Light was unconcerned with what he was saying. The lights in the room were hurting his eyes.

With a click Ryuzaki closed the phone and slipped it back into the pocket of his jeans. That was when Light noticed that they were dressed alike. It was quite odd. Light could only assume his clothes were wet and he had been changed into a spare set of Ryuzaki's clothing. Why Ryuzaki had two of the same shirt and pants escaped him. He must not be very… fashionable. Light wouldn't call himself fashionable, but he liked nice clothes with a professional business feel. This was the first time he had worn blue jeans in years.

"Do you have any family you would like to be dropped off with?" Ryuzaki questioned.

"No." Light answered simply.

"Friends?"

"No."

"Do you not want to bother them or do you really have no one?" Ryuzaki's eyes burned on Light. Light knew he knew it was a rude thing to say. This man frustrated Light. Did he really have no social graces?

"I guess one can see it that way." Light brushed it off. Having no friends never bothered him before. Sure, his coworkers would like to consider themselves his friends, but they would be completely surprised to find him at their door, ill.

"Couldn't you just give me some medicine and a ride to my apartment? It's not too far…" Light began, weakly hoping he'd have a chance to get out of here.

"No. I told you once already. I am also not inclined to leave a man in your state by himself. I am of course, referring to the fact that you were about to jump off a bridge when I first saw you."

It happened. Ryuzaki finally got to the elephant in the room and Light felt like he had just been slapped. His eyes harden instantly. He was not going to discuss such matters with some random man, no matter if he more or less saved Light's life. Light stood up straight, trying to use his aurora of authority that he knew he possessed.

"I'm sorry, sir, but I don't know what you are talking about."

"We both know you do."

"Excuse me, but I am leaving now." Light walked for the door, swaying a bit as he walked, but kept a brisk pace. Once again the raven-haired stranger moved quicker then him and cut him off.

"You will not be going. I will not let you leave, and you are in no condition to fight me. And I will physically restrain you until Wallingford gets here, if you make me." Ryuzaki straightened up while standing for the first time. He was taller than Light, and lean, but through his twin long-sleeve white shirt Light could see muscles.

He knew the threat was serious. He wasn't sure what to do, but then a wave of ill spread over him and he hunched over, coughing. This time he lost his balance and began stumbling backwards.

Ryuzaki grabbed him before he could trip and fall. Supporting him on his shoulder, Ryuzaki guided Light back to the couch and deposited him, back into his seat.

Ryuzaki then went and retrieved a box of tissues and told Light to blow him nose. His face was masterfully blank through out all this. Light was impressed. He knew he wasn't the only one to where a mask, but this man seemed to be more solid at it. His mask was so effortless. His genius level intelligence was clear, but to what degree, Light did not know.

The room was now silent except for that familiar hum of machinery and a few sniffles and blows from Light.

"He didn't, by the way." Ryuzaki said, breaking the silence.

"What?" Light asked.

"I was alone when I found you. Wallingford was at the hotel at the time. You cost me a bag of sweets from a particularly good bakery. We can discuss the matter of your attempted suicide later."

And with that Ryuzaki turned away, walking towards one of the computers as the hotel room door opened to reveal an old, distinguished man with a mustache.

Thank you for reading! And thanks for those of you who reviewed! I am not really sure what to say. Hmmmmmmm.

Oh, an interesting thing happened to me the other day. A tall, skinny window beside my front door started shattering in slow motion. Weird, right?

Once again I apologize for my chapter names. They are cheesy as heck, and I just can't stop making them. You'll have to deal with it.