Author's note: In writing chapter 18, this story is winding down, and I'm afraid it looks like the promised L/Light won't be getting much farther than pre-slash. There are at least two more arcs that I would like to continue with in this universe, however, so please review and tell me whether you guys would prefer them to be in separate stories, or if I should just include all of the arcs within this one story.

December 14th, 2003

Sayu is out with friends today, but she did her best to give me something to occupy my mind in her absence. The letters have been meek for the last few days, so I have allowed myself to indulge in the distraction.

It is a sketchbook, and a book on drawing. Sayu told me that they had been a birthday gift from a friend, because she was always doodling in her notebooks, but that she doesn't really like drawing all that much, and especially not people.

"I like flowers," she said, picking up her purse and leaving the house.

The book focuses on drawing people. It looks like a fairly good book, split into individual lessons as it is. I did the first one a little while ago, and it talks about shading, from pure white to blackest black and the shades in-between. I did it with a regular number two pencil, though, which the book tells me is a terrible thing to do. I hadn't realized that so much went into the selection of a pencil- or an eraser, for that matter. There are at least three different types of erasers mentioned. The sketchbook I'm using seems to be all right, though, because the paper is a decent weight.

It might even be a useful skill in the future, being able to sketch the face of a suspect on demand.

If I go into the police force.

Sayu's words from yesterday have made me re-examine my priorities. What if she's right? What if, after all of this is over, the tedium returns and I can't escape it? But then again, I can't imagine what I'd do if I wasn't a cop. I need to be productive, and my sense of justice will never just let me stand by...

I don't know anymore.

I will ask my mother to buy me some proper pencils.

December 15th, 2003

Sachiko Yagami was used to routine. Her husband was routinely busy, and so she would clean and cook and bake and play the perfect mother, because she could not be a perfect wife. Her daughter was a teenager, and threw small, routine tantrums, and made up with Sachiko routinely after each disagreement. And her son was routinely perfect, and stuck to routine almost as much as Sachiko did, even with the amount of stress going on in his life right now.

This was not routine, she mused, staring at the pencils, and she wasn't sure exactly how to deal with that. The only break in his routine so far had been a decrease in the number of outings with friends. But pencils?

When Sachiko had asked, Light had smiled, blushed a little, and looked away, embarrassed. "Sayu gave me a book on drawing... I wanted to give it a shot."

Sachiko decided that it was best not to let this break in routine bother her. This would all be over soon, and she would have her routine back.

December 16th, 2003

Drawing people is harder than it looks.

I experimented with inanimate objects, and managed not to experience the same difficulty, but people challenge me. I think I have the proportions right, that I have the exact shape of the face perfect, but then when the picture is complete, the person is both the same and completely different. They are like similar strangers, but they are never proper images of the same people.

If Sayu gave me these things in an attempt to keep me from going crazy, she might just have failed. If I can't manage this, it'll drive me up the wall.

"How's it going, Light?" Sayu asked, entering her brother's room without bothering to knock and looking around curiously. "Recreated the Mona Lisa yet?"

"No," Light muttered, irritated. He was sitting at his desk, pencils and erasers spread about him in a disorganized array. It was quite unlike him, and Sayu approached curiously, looking over her brother's shoulder.

"What's got your panties in a bunch? This is really good, especially since you've only been doing this for three days." It was very good. It was not as accurate as a photograph, but it had a sense of realism to it, if not a sense of life. The drawing was of an androgynous individual, wearing a scarf and looking off into the distance. It was quite pretty, really.

"It's not him, though," Light said, defeated. He leaned back in his chair and showed his little sister his source material, a page he had ripped from a magazine. The model was very pretty, walking along a beach. Sayu tilted her head, looking back and forth between the two pictures.

"Huh. It's not." She said, incredulous. "You can't do this? What are you doing wrong?"

Light scowled and flicked her lightly on the forehead. "If I knew, I wouldn't be doing it. I just can't seem to capture the personality. I have the same problem with every person I've tried."

Sayu hummed, tapping her chin thoughtfully. "Maybe you should try to draw someone whose personality you know well, and work from there."

Light stared for a moment, then blinked. "Great idea, Sayu. Sit on my bed and don't move."

"Aww, Light, I wasn't volunteering! I've got homework!"

"I'll help you with your homework, now sit still..."

Sayu only managed it for about fifteen minutes before she couldn't take the still silence anymore. She sprang up from the bed and snatched the notebook from her brother's hands. Light made a noise of irritation and dissatisfaction. "It's terrible," he said miserably.

"Don't be ridiculous," Sayu dismissed, examining the picture. "Oh. No, sorry, you're right, this is terrible. It's even worse. Don't you know what I look like? I was sitting right there."

"Don't make me feel worse," Light huffed. "Now, about that homework..."

December 17th, 2003

12:34 pm

"Light?"

Light looked up from his lunch, and was mildly surprised to see a small crowd of people. "What's going on?" Light asked pleasantly. "An intervention?" He joked.

"That's exactly what this is," said a girl who Light had gone out with a few times. "You've been really distant lately, Light, and you're looking terrible. You've been screening my calls, too—which isn't a crime, but you haven't been picking up for anyone else, either!"

Light stiffened. He should have foreseen that this would happen. He probably should have told them what was going on, if not so that they would understand then so they wouldn't release any of his personal information, but... he just couldn't bring himself to. "I've had some stuff going on lately. Family issues," he said dismissively. "I don't want to talk about it."

"That's a great way to keep your friends, Light," another girl scoffed. "What sort of issues could perfect Light Yagami possibly be having? We thought you'd get over yourself if we just gave you a little bit of space, but it's been a month, Yagami. We're done waiting on you."

Light nodded, feeling a little numb. He was at once hurt, but also relieved. Hurt, because this behavior was simply cruel, but relieved that he had no need to deal with these people anymore. "Very well. If that's what you want, I will not argue with you." Light turned back to his lunch.

"What? That's it?"

"You're not going to give us excuses? Ask to be friends again, to hang out with us?"

"Why would I do that?" Light asked, irritated now. So it had been a ploy to get him to come crawling back to them, and to provide food for the gossip mill. Well, Light was sick of pretending for them. "You clearly don't care about me or what goes on in my life. Now, I'd like to eat my lunch in peace, if you don't mind."

"Whatever, Yagami. Your loss."

Light watched them leave silently, then returned his gaze to his lunch. He grimaced and threw it away. He wasn't feeling very hungry anymore.

5:45 pm

"Light?" Sayu knocked on the door as she opened it, clutching her math books in her arms. "I was wondering if you could help me with—what are you working on? Are you drawing again?"

"Yes," Light said, looking up from his notebook. "What are you having trouble with now?"

"Never mind that," Sayu said, laying her books on his bed and moving to inspect the notebook. "Did you work out the whole 'it's-them-but-it's-not-them' thing?"

"Very articulate. You're avoiding your homework," Light accused, amused.

"You must have worked it out, you don't sound pissed," Sayu said, plopping her head on her brother's shoulder and examining the drawing. She whistled lowly. "You did work it out, but what did they do to you?"

Light's friends sneered up at her from the page, dripping with disdain, arrogance, and vanity. Light gazed down at the page, feeling oddly relaxed now that he had finished the drawing. The emotions that had sparked it were still there, but dulled. If this is what Sayu had intended when she gave him the notebook, he had been severely underestimating her intelligence. "They pretended to cut ties with me because I wouldn't tell them why I had been screening their calls. When I refused to come crawling back to them, begging for forgiveness, they decided to actually cut ties with me."

Sayu huffed, looking back at the picture with disgust. "Shit friends, Light."

"Language, Sayu."

"Shut up, Mom," she said, peering at the faces again. They were very realistic, but grotesque in their depiction of darker human emotions. "Aren't you going to sign and date it?"

"Why?" Light asked, making a motion to close the notebook. "I'm not an artist."

"Come on, Light, you've found your groove," Sayu pleaded, stopping him from closing the notebook. "Humor me, 'kay? It's not like anyone's going to see it, anyway."

Light sighed, then wrote neatly in the bottom right corner, Light Yagami. December 17th, 2003. "Happy?"

"Overjoyed," Sayu replied dryly. "Now, about these quadratic equations..."