Author's note: I didn't know I was referencing a movie until after I finished typing. Red, no, blue!

February 20th, 2004

L blinked rapidly, not used to the feeling of contacts. He was currently hiding around the corner from Light's house, waiting for him to come out so he could follow him to the art class he was modeling for.

L straightened (and it felt very odd to stand up straight) as Light exited his house, a bag slung over his shoulder. Light apparently saw the motion, because he looked over almost immediately. He stilled for a moment, then laughed.

"I almost didn't recognize you," he said, walking down to meet L on the street. L placed his hands in his pockets casually. He felt a breeze on his neck for the first time in a long time (and that was odd too, because his hair was normally there). Light reached L and touched the neat brown hair on L's head. "A wig? It feels real."

"It defeats the point of wearing a disguise if you insist on declaring that I am wearing a disguise," L said. Light raised his eyebrows.

"Is that an Osaka accent?" He tilted his head, smiling, and pulled down L's sunglasses a little to take a peek at his eyes. "Brown. I like the gray better."

L pushed up his sunglasses, unamused. "Are you going to lead the way, or will I have to deduce the route myself?"

Light grimaced. "I'm surprised you don't already know where it is. You really don't have to go. You should go... get cake, or something."

"The more you try to talk me out of this, the more I want to see it."

Light sighed. "Fine... It's this way." Light spun on his heel and began walking quickly away from L, shoulders slumped slightly in defeat.

L watched Light walk silently, contemplating his words from two days before. Light was acting like nothing had happened, and L wasn't sure exactly what to do about that. He understood Light's reasoning, of course, even if he didn't agree with it. And he didn't agree with it, not at all.

But if Light wanted L to get to know him, L had no problem with that. He'd prove that he did like Light for who he was, even if it was completely horrible for him to do so. L was a horrible person, sometimes.

"Light."

Light glanced back, slowing down a little and falling into pace with him. "Not reconsidering, are you?" He asked, not sounding too hopeful.

L shook his head, then asked seriously, "What is your favorite color?"

"I- What?"

"What is your favorite color?" L repeated patiently, studying and reveling in the astounded expression on Light's face.

"...Why?"

"Light has made the claim that I do not like him enough as a person, because I do not know him. I am attempting to get to know him."

Light shook his head, amazed that L was giving him a look that suggested that Light was the one being weird here. "I don't know."

L stared. "Light does not know his favorite color."

"It's not something I think about," Light said defensively. "Besides, what could my favorite color possibly tell you about me as a person? For that matter, who asks that? I know I'm younger than you, but I'm not five."

"It's not an unreasonable question," L argued.

Light huffed. "Fine. What's your favorite color, Ryuzaki?"

"I asked first," L said quickly, trying to cover up his lack of an answer, but Light was far too smart for that.

"Exactly," Light said, smirking. "You don't know, because it's not something you think about. When you observe things in daily life, you're not judging them for the worthiness of their colors, you're judging their usefulness." The smirk slid effortlessly into an easy smile. "That said, I like earth tones. Browns. Reds. Greens."

L frowned, thinking. "I..." He thought of things he liked, besides Light, and puzzles- which were the same thing, really. He liked sweets, but those didn't have a specific color. He certainly wasn't about to tell Light that he liked pink, because it was the color of strawberry cake. So what else? What colors did he like? "Why earth tones?" L asked, stalling for time.

Light smiled slyly, but said, "I live in Tokyo. There are trees in parks and things, but it's not the same as real nature. Surrounded by steel buildings and neon lights, colors like that are calming."

L nodded. That made sense, of course. So what calmed- oh. That should have been obvious, really. "Grey." L said, firmly.

Light must have sensed the power and determination behind that single word, because he raised an eyebrow and said, "Why?"

L gave him a considering look, then decided that he might as well tell him. He wasn't a suspect this time, after all. "I spent several years of my childhood in Britain. It's mostly overcast there, and everything has a bit of a grey tint to it, even on sunny days. It's not particularly beautiful, but I travel all over the world, and-" L cut himself off, feeling as if he was rambling. "Grey is home."

They reached the art classroom, and Light drifted away to a screen at the back of the room. L hovered in the doorway, observing. The place smelled like paint.

"Friend of Light's?" L turned to face a plump middle-aged woman with a smudge of charcoal on her face.

"...Yes."

The woman smiled a little, then said, "Nice glasses. Go ahead and take a seat at the back of the class, we'll start as soon as Light's ready. Normally I have a demonstration to begin, but because this is his last class, I'm letting them make the most of their time with him."

"Ready?"

The woman's smile broadened, and L got the feeling that he had missed something. "Light didn't tell you, did he." It was a statement.

"Tell me what?" L was getting frustrated. He wasn't used to not knowing everything in a situation, and it was annoying.

The woman didn't answer, just wandered around the classroom to talk to her students. L didn't have to wait long to find out, however. Light emerged from behind the screen after a few minutes. In a bathrobe.

Light glanced briefly at L, eyes wide, then determinedly avoided looking in his direction as he walked towards the table in the center of the room, lay down a blanket, and let his robe drop.

L stared at the ceiling, mouth dry. Was this a test of his resolve, to prove that he did want Light for himself, and not some ideal he had built up? But how was it fair that a room full of middle-aged housewives who fancied themselves artists got to see Light, but L didn't? L frowned, fixing his gaze more firmly on the ceiling.

If anything killed his attraction, that thought was it. He most certainly did not want to see Light naked because he was modeling for an art class. He wanted to see him because...

You might never get another chance, L reminded himself. He told you to wait. He didn't make any promises.

But telling me to wait suggests that I will get a chance. If he didn't plan to give me a chance, he would have disillusioned me from the start.

Bolstered by this thought, L turned all the way around, watching the art students instead of Light. None of them, he was glad to see, were ogling Light any more than was necessary for their drawings. A few of them shot him odd looks—probably because of the sunglasses. The teacher herself stared at him unabashedly, and, catching his gaze, raised her eyebrows with a smirk and a glance in Light's direction. L frowned and cocked his head as if to say, 'Yeah, so?'

Apparently this was the right thing to do, because the woman nodded in approval and went about her business. L was glad she did- watching her and studying the other students in the class helped him forget that Light Yagami was right behind him, sans clothing.

He kept his back turned for the entire class, until Light was once again dressed and had tapped him on the shoulder to tell him that it was safe to turn around.