Author's note: I really do like Naomi, guys- she's not a bad person. She made a mistake in a time of great emotional turmoil, and thought she was successfully interrogating someone who had direct involvement in the death of someone she dearly loved. As for the length of these chapters, they are separated the way they are because they are episodic in my mind. It wouldn't feel right to me to combine them to make them longer—plus, I feel more accomplished when I post one chapter, which drives me to write another chapter, etc. I do try to make up for the length by updating frequently and by making sure that each chapter is more than 1,500 words, with very few exceptions.

December 20th, 2003

12:04 pm

Watching someone sleep was a bizarre experience at times. It gave a sense of both reality and unreality, revealed truths and concealed them. Even the most energetic people slowed to slumber, and both children and murderers alike surrendered to dreams. The state of helplessness, of complete relaxation, made even the most inhuman people human. Somewhere in Tokyo, even Kira laid his head to rest.

In the hotel suite of the detective L, Light Yagami laid his head to rest. He had been drugged into unconsciousness earlier, but was now sleeping, breath light, easy and relaxed. The hotel lamps illuminated the purple bruises under his eyes from lack of sleep, accentuating the hollowness of his cheeks and the loose fit of his clothes. His skin seemed a little to pale for him, contrasting with the still-bright shine of his hair, which stuck to his face. He really was very handsome, even in his current state of disarray—a sort of tragic beauty. It was becoming apparent that Light Yagami was one of those lucky people who managed to look effortlessly beautiful in every situation, including here, in L's bed with his hair rumpled and face slack.

And L was sure that the young man who currently laid his head on L's hotel pillow was not Kira.

To begin, his reaction to Misora's little test was too honest and desperate to be faked. Aside from that, Light was incredibly smart. If he was working with Kira, then Kira would most likely not have had the setbacks he had been dealing with so far. Not to mention the anti-Kira sentiments expressed in the journal—which was almost certainly genuine, because if he was working with Kira, he would also not want to call attention to anyone following him around or proclaiming that he was a God.

Not to say that there weren't any loose ends. In particular, there was the matter of the night of December 9th that would need to be discussed.

Still, L would be willing to work with the young genius on this case, because his instincts told him that Light Yagami was innocent. And his instincts had never been wrong before.

The embodiment of the world's top three detectives re-adjusted his mask. He might have confidence in Light Yagami's innocence, but that didn't mean he trusted him with knowledge of his identity.

Light Yagami groaned. He was tired, and sore, and had that itchy feeling in his sinuses that came after he cried. When had he been?-

He groaned again as he remembered the events of the morning and moved around experimentally. At least he wasn't bound anymore. He'd even been put in a bed, instead of just left in the chair. He assumed he'd been sedated.

"Awake, I see."

Light jumped a little, partly because the voice was so close, and partly because the voice wasn't being scrambled by a computer. He opened his eyes, blinking up at what looked like a hotel ceiling. He sat up slowly, leaning on the headboard in case he got dizzy or nauseous, before looking at the speaker.

It was impossible to tell what the man's face looked like, or how old he was, because he was wearing a rather grotesque mask with bulging eyes that seemed to be in a permanent state of surprise.

"What, no voice scrambler?" Light asked tiredly, more out of a lack of anything else to say than genuine interest.

The man might have detected this, because he ignored the question and said, "I am L." Light nodded, having expected that. After a moment, L said abruptly, "I would like to apologize. For the behavior of my agent."

Light looked away from the mask, unable to take the gaze from within. Staring at the hotel wall paper, he accused quietly, "Are you satisfied with the results of your test?"

"I did not authorize that test." L raised a pale hand to his mask, but upon touching it seemed to become aware of the action, and abandoned it.

"I hardly think that you're not going to take its results into account simply because you didn't personally order it," Light muttered, feeling like picking a fight, even if it wasn't the wisest idea. But, damn it, he had a right to be angry. "You don't seem to mind making a few sacrifices to obtain information, if I recall the Lind L. Tailor incident correctly."

"I take it you disapprove of my actions, then?"

Light barked shortly with laughter. "No, I don't disapprove. Are you happy with what you've found out? I'm sure that at this point I must be innocent or a very good actor."

"I am inclined to think that you are innocent," L replied smoothly. "And you can help prove your innocence by helping me catch Kira. Or your stalker. It doesn't matter- I am now certain that they are one and the same."

Light jerked his head to look at the mask again, words replaying in his head over and over until they finally processed. When they had, Light casually stood and strolled to the open door to the bathroom, knelt in front of the toilet, and vomited. L, who had followed the journey cautiously, relaxed when he realized the boy's goal, and hovered in the doorway.

"When you're done in there, Light," L said, voice monotonous but somehow still tinged with equally small parts of worry and amusement. "I need to speak to you about your journal."

There was a retching gasp. "I'll—I'll get—right—on—that." He heaved again, and there was a wet sound of vomit hitting the toilet water.

Beneath his mask, L wrinkled his nose. He left Light to throw up in peace and to get the stinging stench of vomit out of his nostrils. He wished he could eat some cake or drink some tea, but that would require lifting his mask, and he didn't trust Light quite that much yet.

It took a few minutes, but eventually the sounds of vomiting faded into sounds of dry retching, and then to the sound of the toilet being flushed. Light paused at the edge of the bath to swish some water in his mouth with some toothpaste that the hotel had provided before walking, only slightly unsteadily, back into the bedroom.

Light's stomach gave another funny little jump as he saw his journal held awkwardly by L's thumbs and forefingers. It couldn't be avoided, he knew, but his innermost thoughts were written in there—no tricks, no masks. His soul was laying bare before this man, and he couldn't even see his face.

"Light Yagami," L's voice, Light noted absently, had a unique quality to the enunciation, one which made his words stand out as unusual, even while he could not quite place what it was that made it so different. "At this point, the chance that you are Kira is very slim, but, as you have noted in your journal," he hoisted it, as if to emphasize the word, "Kira needs a name and a face to kill. Until your probability of being Kira is at zero, I cannot afford to take any chances by showing you my face."

"Fair enough." Light wished he could have picked a different mask, though. This one was a little bit unnerving.

"Your journal answers quite a few questions, Light Yagami," L mused as he rifled through the pages, "but I would like some clarification about the events of December 9th. There is, in fact, no entry on the 9th, only on the 10th. You wrote, When I woke, I still had the NPA database up." Light shifted a little guiltily. The angle of L's mask changed a little and the man remarked, "I am investigating the Kira case, Yagami, not your amateur hacking. Relax. No, what I am more concerned with is I hadn't even been looking at stalkers at the time, but the Kira case."

Light's mind sped back to that night, and the pieces fell into place with a horrible click.

L continued. "December 9th is the night that the tip that Kira might be a student was entered into the database. It is my belief that, when your stalker, who is also Kira, broke into your room that night, he saw the database and reacted in panic, altering the timing of his killings. I see you seem to have deduced that, as well. What you do not know is that this apparent leak in police information was noted, and I quietly sent 12 FBI agents to Japan to secretly investigate the Japanese National Police force and anyone else who would have access to this information."

L paused for a few moments, perhaps to let Light catch up. L had sent FBI agents in Japan to follow around the police officers on the Kira investigation, and presumably their families as well. Light's father was the Chief of police and had access to the most information, so it would follow that him and his family would be some of the first to be investigated. And if Light was being followed, and the person who was following him found out that he was being followed, and the person who was following him was Kira-

"Kira killed them." Light couldn't bring himself to declare this in more than a whisper, but L heard it and nodded.

"The agent assigned to follow you was called Raye Penber. It is unclear how Kira obtained his name, but he used it to manipulate Penber into giving him information on the investigation before he died."

"Manipulate," Light repeated. "As in 'I'll kill you if you don't tell me this', or as in... controlling him?"

L's hand made the trip half-way to the mask again, and he brought it down to his knees forcibly. It was only now that Light noticed the odd crouch the man had assumed in the chair opposite the bed, but he couldn't bring himself to find it important. "It would appear that Kira can control the behavior of his victims before their death, though it is unclear how he does this or to what extent he can manipulate them."

Light's hand twitched toward his pocket, as if he could grasp the pepper spray that he no longer had into order to protect himself from something that he could not see. "How can I possibly believe that?..."

"Please hold off on religious terror until I have finished explaining," L said without emotion. "Kira apparently set Penber's death for a specific time, but finished questioning him before the set time of death and let him go free. Penber managed to make it back to his fiance and deliver the details of the events to her, who delivered them to me. And that leads to you."

"So my carelessness in leaving the NPA database open indirectly lead to the deaths of 12 FBI agents." Light said, feeling a little nauseous again.

"13," L corrected, "But that's not the point. Their deaths were not your fault. The responsibility for that lies with me. If you still feel responsible for their deaths, you can make up for it by aiding in the investigation. Surely you realize that I would not have shared this much information with someone I suspected unless there was a very good reason?"

Light grimaced. "It had occurred to me, yes. By 'aiding in the investigation'... please tell me that you don't mean-" He couldn't bring himself to finish, but L was already nodding.

"I will need your help in luring and catching Kira."

"Of course you will." Light's displeasure was interrupted as a cell phone rang loudly. L fished it out of his pocket in the same odd grip he had used on Light's journal and flicked it open without a greeting.

"L," a man's voice said, the volume on the phone loud enough to carry over the short distance between L and Light, "Chief Yagami is on the line. He is quite upset."

Light grimaced again. Underneath his comical mask, L did the same.