Summary: Light Yagami (33, divorced) returns to his hometown to sell the house he grew up in. A series of mishaps and not one, but two tall, dark haired strangers conspire to keep him in town longer than he intended.

Light let out a sigh as he made the right turn into the village. Mistletoeville, the sign adorned with festive lights read. The name his sister has always gleefully says when asked where she is from, while he mumbles it ashamedly when asked the same question.

"Come on Sayu, pick up," Light said, hitting the steering wheel in frustration as the dial tone droned over the car's speakers. She was supposed to be here with him.

The town looked like a movie set at Christmas time. Light found it over the top at the best of times, but he could really do without this under the circumstances. The snow was getting heavier, and settling in a thick layer on the ground. He had been hoping for fine weather, so he could get in and out of town as quickly as possible.

"Hey Light! You'll never guess where I am," Sayu said. She had no right to sound this cheerful.

"Waiting for me at the house?" Light said, his tone indicating little faith that this was the case.

"No, I'm in the Vatican! You won't believe the photos I've taken."

"When are you coming home?"

"Oh! Listen, I'm gonna have to hang up, we're about to go into the Sistine Chapel, I'll call you later."

"But Sayu-" Light began, but the line went dead.

His mood significantly worsened, Light drove past a little row of needlessly twee stores. Did a place this small really need a candy store? An old man with a moustache waved from the doorway. Was he waving at Light? He thought about it too much and lost the chance to think about waving back. That would be the normal thing to do. But he wasn't staying long, he didn't need to waste his time on niceties.

Light took a left turn and slowed down. This was the street. The one he drove up every year. But this time it felt different. Because for once his parents wouldn't be there to greet him.

Every house that Light passed in the village had elaborate lighting displays on their roofs. His parents' old house at the end of the cul-de-sac stuck out as it did not. What's more, neither of the next door neighbours had lights on their houses either. Light didn't remember seeing the neighbours in recent years. Good. That meant nobody would bother him.

As he drove up the hill to the end of the cul-de-sac, a couple of children in comically oversized coats ran out into the road in front of him in pursuit of a brightly coloured ball. Light hit the break and the children ran past his car laughing and completely oblivious to their brush with death.

Light hit the accelerator but nothing happened. Cursing under his breath in a decidedly non-festive way, he turned the engine off and on again. Nothing.

"This is fine," Light said, biting back his frustration. Of course his battery was flat. Of course he would be forced to stop just yards away from the house.

He got out of the car, pulled up his hood against the wind and snow, and started the walk back to town.

The garage was where he remembered it was, but the lights were out and there seemed to be no-one around. Scratch that, there were some teenagers gathering snow off the cars in front of it to make a snowman.

"Hey mister, wanna help?" one of them called to him.

Light shook his head. "You shouldn't talk to strangers, young lady," he said.

"There's no such thing as strangers when a stranger says hello," she said.

"Hello!" her companions chorused, waving gleefully.

Light turned away. These certainly weren't like the teenagers he was used to in the city, who would only talk to you to distract you while one of their friends pickpocketed you.

He crossed the street to Penber's Bar and Restaurant. That, at least, looked open.

Inside, a lady with long dark hair stood at the bar. She was looking at some papers with a severe expression on her face, but when she saw him she smiled. "Welcome. What can I get you?"

"Nothing, thank you. I was just wondering if you knew when the garage is open again," Light said.

"Oh, not until the new year. Mogi's gone on vacation. Can you imagine that, leaving Mistletoeville at this time of year?" she said.

"The new year? Are you serious?" Light noticed the expression on her face change, and reigned himself in. "Never mind, thank you."

"Hey, aren't you the Yagami's son? The one who got divorced?"

Light narrowed his eyes. "How do you know that?"

"Sorry, I didn't mean to offend you. Just something I'd heard. We're all very sad about what happened to your parents. My condolences."

Light nodded curtly. "I must be going," he said.

"Happy holidays!" she called, but he was already on his way out.

Light started walking down the street. Well this was fantastic. He was going to be stuck here for at least two weeks, unless he got a tow-truck to take his car away.

The streets were filled with smiling, happy people, everyone he came across was with their family or hand in hand with a partner. For a moment he felt alone. But then he remembered that at least he wouldn't have to explain the details of his messy divorce to his family.

Almost everyone was happy and smiling together. As he passed through the town square, he spotted another solitary figure amongst the couples and families. A very smartly dressed man who shook snow off his glasses, then looked up at the Christmas tree with a serious expression on his face.

As Light passed by, the man turned to look at him, and Light felt conscious of letting his gaze linger on him for a little too long. The man didn't smile, but the intensity in his stare did not seem unfriendly. Light decided to give him a nod of solidarity. The man returned his nod, and Light was aware of his gaze still fixed upon him as he walked away.

The snow was falling even heavier now, making the trek up the hill even more unpleasant. When Light reached the front door, he realised that he had actually been glad of the excuse to put off going inside.

Nevertheless he opened the door and flicked on the light switch. Nothing. He flicked it the other way, and the light still failed to switch on. With some trouble, he located the fusebox and flipped the switches, but still nothing came on. Had the electric company cut them off already? Under the circumstances it seemed needlessly cruel.

He hunted around for the paperwork and called the number, and was immediately placed in a queue. Not feeling like rummaging around to see what food his parents had left in their kitchen, Light set off into town again to buy something to eat.

"Hey. Sorry about your parents, and the divorce," the man in the striped shirt behind the counter of the convenience store said.

Light gritted his teeth and patted his pockets. He was mortified to find that his wallet wasn't there. Perhaps it had dropped out in the car? Still in an unknown position in the queue to speak to someone about the electric bill, he went back to check in his car. It wasn't there. Neither was it on the path to his parents' former house, or inside.

The phone call grabbed his attention again when he heard a click in his ear. Then he realised the line had gone dead. Cursing, he dialled the number again, to be informed that their lines had closed for the day.

Well if he thought he was stuck before, he certainly was now. The offices for his credit cards had probably shut too, and besides, they wouldn't get him a new card on the same day. He paced the house, considering his options. He thought of calling Misa. But she would have been no use even before they got divorced. And Sayu wasn't even in the country. Who else was there? Maybe someone from the office. But he didn't want to have to explain his predicament to any of them, his pride wouldn't allow it.

He supposed the logical thing would be to go to the police station and report his wallet missing, and also look for it on the way.

After all that had befell him today, Light was not surprised that he saw no glimpse of his wallet on his third trek into town. In fact he was expecting the police station to be closed when he got there and shocked when it actually wasn't.

The policeman behind the desk smiled at him. His name tag said Sergeant Matsuda. "Oh, you must be the new divorcee in town," he remarked.

"How does everyone know that?"

"Oh you know, not much happens around here," Matsuda said. "I'm kidding of course, I just always wanted to say that. It sounds exciting, doesn't it? I remember you, Light Yagami, right?"

"Yes."

"So sorry to hear about your parents."

"Yeah," Light said, already tired of having this conversation. "I just came to report my wallet missing."

"A lost wallet? This is the most exciting day in my entire life!"

"There's no need for sarcasm."

"No, really!" Matsuda insisted. "As I said, not much happens around here."

"Can you help me or not?"

"Well, first I'll have you fill in some forms," Matsuda said, placing several long forms down on the counter.

Light took a pen from his inside pocket and started completing the forms as quickly as he could.

"So how's life in the big city?"

"Great."

"Is it really? Is it as big as they say?"

Light considered his answer without looking up from the forms. "No."

"It isn't?"

"It's even bigger."

Light could practically feel Matsuda's massive grin without even needing to look up.

"You know, may I suggest you try a private detective? Only, I'm not much good at finding missing items, or persons, or…. and well, there's no-one else to man the station right now."

"Right," Light said, feeling like he was about to get fobbed off.

"And he lives right here in the village. Calls himself L. Like the letter L. Isn't that interesting? He's a bit of a strange one, in fact maybe even a lot of a strange one. Doesn't often leave his house. But there's no-one better than him at solving a mystery."

"So you're saying you can't help me?"

Matsuda looked guilty. "Not right now. If you want to come back tomorrow, I'll certainly give it a shot! But if I was you, I'd go call on L." He wrote something on a pad, tore of the page and folded it to give to Light. "Here's his address."

"Thanks," Light said.

"Happy Christmas!" Matsuda said as Light turned to leave. Then he mumbled to himself, "Wait, should I not have said that?"

Light didn't like the thought of going and knocking on the door of some hermit of a private detective, especially not one described as very strange by a police sergeant who wasn't the most normal individual himself. Besides, he had had quite enough of the unbearable cheery people of this place for one day. He stuck his hands in his pockets and once again dragged himself up the hill.

The sight of his car abandoned in the road annoyed him. He decided to try and push it up the road to where it should be. Putting all his strength behind it, he was barely able to move it at all. He took a breath, then tried again. He pushed and pushed and seemed to be getting nowhere, until the car suddenly started moving. Then he realised someone was beside him, helping to push.

Light gasped to get his breath when the car was moved into its rightful place. His helper stood up and he got a good look at him. It was him. The man with glasses who he'd seen by the Christmas tree. Maybe it was just the feeling of gratitude Light felt towards him, but he looked really quite handsome. Snow was settling on his long jet black hair and on the shoulders of his immaculate overcoat.

The man adjusted his glasses, nodded at him, then turned to leave. Light looked away for a moment, and the man had disappeared into the snow. Where had he come from? How had he known Light needed help? Was he watching him? If he hadn't have been quite so good looking, Light might have been more concerned.

He looked at the house. It still wasn't inviting, and he wasn't going to get the power back today.

He took out the paper that the police sergeant had given him and unfolded it. It seemed inevitable that he would be faced with yet another walk into town. But he was surprised to find that the address was for the house next door.

The curtains were all shut despite the fact that it was not yet dark. There was no telephone number on the paper, so Light walked down the path and knocked on the front door.

He waited a few moments, and was about to knock again when he heard the sound of many locks and bolts creaking open. The door opened a crack, and a suspicious eye appeared in it.

"Oh, Light Yagami, it's you," the occupant said, undoing the chain that held the door shut.

"How do you know my name?" Light asked, staring at the man on the other side of the door. He was hunched over, dishevelled and looked unhealthy and sleep-deprived.

The man gave him a small smile. "I know everyone around here," he said. "Although they don't all know me. Now I don't normally invite people in, but it's very cold and you're letting a draft in." The man did a bit of jig to express how cold he was, and Light realised that he was barefoot.

He felt uneasy about accepting this odd man's invitation. A policeman wouldn't give him the address of an actual serial killer, would he? One did hear strange things about people in small towns. Perhaps the police were in on it and they planned to murder him for his lack of festive cheer? No, that was ridiculous. And he really did want to get his wallet back. With some trepidation, he stepped inside.