Ryuzaki would probably be happy to stay up all night, but when everyone else is gone, you say, "Listen, I'm gonna need some sleep eventually."
Ryuzaki has been pressing his finger against his lips and looking at blueprints for the skyscraper that were pretty interesting to you too, until you found you were barely able to keep your eyes open anymore.
"Hm? Oh. Yes," Ryuzaki says. "I suppose so. There's a bedroom that way…" he points, and you stand still, unmoving, until he finally looks up and focuses on you. You hold up your left hand and gently shake the chain.
Ryuzaki stares at it for a few minutes, as though it's offended him. It's his own idea, anyway, so he doesn't have room to complain—and he seems to realize it, after a long moment.
He sighs and stands up, cracking his back, and then meandering toward the bedroom.
"Hey, wait a minute, I want to brush my teeth first," you complain, as he walks right past the bathroom door.
"I thought Light-kun wanted to go to bed."
"I do. Which involves getting ready for bed. Which involves brushing my teeth." You'd also appreciate a shower and a change of clothes, but you're so tired you're almost swaying where you stand, and you figure you can go without for another night.
You tug Ryuzaki in the other direction and stand in front of the sink, opening a toothbrush from its plastic container and putting toothpaste on it while Ryuzaki waits with an air of long-suffering patience. You can see him in the mirror, his gaze wandering the ceiling, and his hands stuck in the pockets of his baggy jeans.
"You should do this too, you know," you say.
"No, I'll brush my teeth in the morning," Ryuzaki says confidently.
"...In the morning?"
"Yes."
Well.
"Are you done?" he asks, as you begin to rinse your toothbrush clean.
You roll your eyes. "I also have to use the bathroom."
"You're already in… oh," Ryuzaki says. To his credit, he turns around while you go over to the toilet, and this time waits for your word before continuing his trek to the bedroom.
There's really only one way you can get into bed, considering the way you're handcuffed together—you take the right-hand side and L takes the left, the chain pooling between you. On second thought, you take a couple of the hotel pillows and stick them longways between you, leaving just one for your head. On the other side of your makeshift barrier, you can see Ryuzaki, half-under his covers, pulling his knees to his chest just as he does when he's sitting, and staring up at the ceiling, unblinking. You turn the light off, sink down into the hotel mattress, and go to sleep.
Or try to.
For some reason, the damn thing is way too soft, and the pillow feels like your head's being smothered. After getting more and more annoyed—seriously, I managed to find a way to sleep every night tied up hand and foot, but this is giving me problems?—you throw the pillow onto the floor.
"Light-kun," Ryuzaki says, in a loud whisper. "Are you asleep?"
"Yes," you hiss back.
"I see," Ryuzaki says. "Because if Light-kun was not asleep, maybe he wouldn't mind getting up and—"
"Great, but I'm asleep, so no," you say. You flop onto your side and press your face into the mattress.
Ryuzaki sighs.
Somehow, but only when the sun has already started to creep into the edges of the room, you manage to fall into an uneasy slumber, though it's broken intermittently by the sound of the chain clinking, or Ryuzaki tossing and turning; and when you finally wake up at what the clock assures you is twelve o'clock PM the next day, you feel like you've barely rested at all. For some unfathomable reason, you actually hurt more than you did yesterday. Maybe not with the same sharp shooting stabs of pain, but with an ache that's stretching over your whole body, like your muscles are in knots. In fact, you can barely bring yourself to move, and when you do, you actually have to bite back a whimper. What is this? you think, scared for a moment that you're suffering from some sort of unexpected injury, before realizing that this isn't actually new. You're just more comfortable than you've been in two months, and you're actually noticing how bad you really feel.
Even so, it seems like a personal affront.
You glance over at Ryuzaki, but for once, he's actually out cold. And though you consider dragging him out of bed for half a second, you're tired enough to decide to drift off again instead.
So it's actually not till the task force gets into the front room that you wake up again, and this time blearily, as though from the middle of a deep sleep.
You can hear Ryuzaki talking into his phone in a quiet voice, and after a moment, you realize the feedback you're hearing is Soichiro answering from the other room.
You sit up and rub a hand over your face, trying to wake yourself up, but it feels like moving through molasses. In fact, you're pretty sure you could fall right back to sleep and keep sleeping the rest of the day, and maybe the night.
"Yes," Ryuzaki is saying. "Yes. Oh good, Light-kun is up. We'll be right out." He flips his phone shut and hops off the bed, walking purposefully into the other room. You stumble after him, surprised and almost tripping.
"Hey, wait—Ryuzaki—"
Ryuzaki opens the door into the main room and zooms in a bee-line toward his computer, settling himself into a chair in front of it and opening it up with a sigh of happiness.
"Uh… hi, tōsan," you say awkwardly.
You're pretty sure you look like a wreck, if the sympathetic glance Matsuda is giving you is any indication.
"And that… should… be it," Ryuzaki says, typing away. "The cardkey, Matsuda," he says, taking it from his pocket with two fingers and holding it out sideways to the officer, "don't lose it."
"Uh, thanks, Ryuzaki," Matsuda says. "I'll make sure to do you proud!"
"Yes," Ryuzaki says distractedly. "The best thing for that would be to get her out of here without stopping by this room. Do you think you can manage that?"
"Oh, sure!" Matsuda says excitedly. He grabs the key-card in his hand and moves out the door, and you can hear a muffled, "ugh, I can't believe you're late! Come on, Matsui," in Misa's carrying tone.
"Is everything okay, Light?" Soichiro asks, after an awkward moment.
"Fine, tōsan," you say with a reassuring smile. "I'm just tired, that's all."
"I understand," he says. "I'm sorry I woke you."
"No, really, it's fine."
"Yagami-san, do you think you could ask Mogi-san for photocopies of the most recent Kira killings?" Ryuzaki says. Someone else in the investigation you haven't heard of…? You're torn between unease at knowing the fact, and relief at the thought that Ryuzaki isn't trying to hide the investigator's existence anymore. Surely that's a good sign…? Still, who knows if that's even the man's real name…
"I'll get right on that," Soichiro promises.
"Let's see… six of them, I believe. Yes. And another copy of all the previous ones, so Light-kun can catch up."
"I'll do that, and come back in an hour or so," Soichiro says. "I'll inform everyone else of the time, that way you can get ready without having to worry."
"I wasn't worrying," Ryuzaki says.
"Thanks," you say, cutting over him. "That's really thoughtful of you."
You feel a stab of relief when it's just Ryuzaki and yourself in the hotel room again, though you could even do without Ryuzaki… for some strange reason, you've just been so on-edge around everyone. It's probably nothing.
You drag Ryuzaki over to the bathroom. "All right. You said you'd brush your teeth in the morning, Ryuzaki, and I really hope you weren't lying."
"I wasn't lying," Ryuzaki says, looking forlornly at the toothbrush in your hand, "but Light-kun has the only toothbrush."
"You didn't pack…?" of course he didn't.
"Fine, you know what? Take this one when I'm finished with it," you announce. You're not sure if he'll do so—after all, sharing toothbrushes is pretty gross—but the idea of spending all day knowing that Ryuzaki hasn't brushed his teeth for more than a day is also pretty gross. You hand it over to him once you've rinsed it and Ryuzaki takes the brush without protest, putting toothpaste on and beginning to brush vigorously.
"You're gonna have to get another one so I can use it tonight," you say, just in case he had some illusion you were actually offering to share toothbrushes for the foreseeable future.
After that…
You eye the shower.
"If you take the handcuffs off I can—"
"It will not be that easy to change my mind, Light-kun," Ryuzaki says, meeting your eyes through the mirror.
"Well, you're going to have to," you say, with patient annoyance, "or I'm not going to be able to change my clothes."
He considers that for a moment.
"...I see your point," he announces.
He walks out of the bathroom, and you're pulled along behind him at the sudden momentum between you. He goes over to one of the side tables in the main room and opens the drawer, pulling out, triumphantly, the leather strap you'd worn around your ankles in confinement. "If you put this on your feet," he says, "I'll uncuff your arm. Does that work?"
Seeing it in Ryuzaki's hands—for a moment, there is only the dull thud of recognition. It seems nearly more real than the rest of this gilt and beautiful hotel. The version of you who exists here and the version of you who had existed in confinement seem to crash into each other, and part of you thinks what else did I expect?
"Sure," you say.
So you go back into the bathroom.
You turn on the water, feeling it to make sure it's a good temperature before grabbing the strap Ryuzaki holds out to you and closing it around your ankles. Ryuzaki roots around in one of his jeans pockets before pulling out a key and unlocking the cuff around your left wrist, and you pull your shirt off. Then he closes the long handcuff onto your wrist again, and bends down to unbuckle the strap around your ankles, and after that you take off your trousers and step into the shower. You move into the water, pull the curtain between you, and tilt your head up under the spray for the first time in two months. The sensation is immediate and exquisite, unwinding at least some of your constant tension, and you are pretty sure hot water is, in fact, the best thing in your life. No—the best thing in the world.
You're still waiting for the other shoe to drop, you can't get too comfortable—you know this, and yet—the water and the steam and the porcelain tub with clean tiled walls, these things impress themselves upon you in a way you can't deny; something in your chest catching. You press your hand against the wall just to assure yourself it's here, it's real. A painful smile stretches across your face and you want to laugh, you want to whisper under your breath I'm here, I'm real. Even the handcuff stretching from your left wrist out past the shower curtain doesn't seem like the humiliation it ought to. You're no longer in a cell; you're helping with the Kira investigation; the enormity of these things leaves you shaking, a buoyancy so powerful it terrifies you.
This isn't me. I can't let my guard down. He's still trying to trick you.
The water underneath your feet is running grey… filth and grime sliding away from you, disappearing down the drain as though it were that easy to put it all behind. You reach for the bottle of shampoo, run your fingers through your hair, close your eyes and breathe in the scent of new soap.
"It has been fifteen minutes," Ryuzaki says, pulling you unceremoniously from bliss.
"Okay, give me a minute," you say. You're regretful, but this is far too insignificant a thing to push back on, no matter how much you want to stand here forever, under the purifying stream.
So you step out of the shower. Ryuzak throws you a towel the moment you do, and you only just catch it in time. "Thanks," you say, drying yourself off. The towel is so soft. Far softer than anything you'd had in confinement; the sensation of it against your skin makes you want to tell him you won't let him down, that you're as invested in this as he is, that he won't have any reason to put you into a cell, not again. This 'kindness' is nothing but an investigative tactic, you remind yourself. He's trying to manipulate you. Why are you reacting like this?
You do the whole handcuff bit in reverse, unfortunately with the same clothes, since no one bothered to bring a different pair in your size to this hotel room, but even that doesn't manage to dampen your good mood. You're clean; you've put every single hotel cream onto your skin, and you can move your arms and legs to any extent. There's barely anything to complain about. Except Kira, of course. You're always up for complaining about him—since he's the one who's crimes you're under suspicion for, and, if you trace things through their entire logical permutations, he's the one who totally derailed your entire life.
When you go into the main room, Ryuzaki walks to the doorway, and outside it there is a tray of room service covered in a white cloth, plates covered with shining silver covers, some with the notation 'gluten-free'. You tug the rolling tray inside the room while Ryuzaki holds the door open, then the two of you park the tray next to one of the low tables. One after another, Ryuzaki lifts the covers up: steam rises, and with it, the almost overpowering scent of fresh, warm food. Ryuzaki takes a plate with a stack of fluffy pancakes, covered in berries and powdered sugar. He drizzles syrup from a small ceramic pitcher and uses a fork to cut a thin wedge from the side. You take a pile of potatoes and a folded, buttery omelette. The utensil feels ungainly in your grip; your wrist shakes.
Ryuzaki is playing aimlessly with the dregs of his tea, tilting his cup, by the time the task force returns. The new investigator, Mogi, is with them.
"It's a pleasure to meet you, Mogi-san," you say, with a practiced smile, standing.
The officer looks at you for a long moment before replying, "you too, Light-kun. Sorry for what you had to go through."
"Are you talking about confinement? That's not a big deal," you say. "I'm just glad I'm able to help with the investigation again."
He nods, and does not mention the handcuff hanging from your wrist.
Instead he gives you a stack of papers, and when you skim it, you see that it's notes on the case.
And from then on, the day is exactly the kind of thing you'd gotten used to throughout the month you'd been in the task force: sitting around with Ryuzaki and the others, going through information. It could be the last week of May, when everyone was reacting to the Second Kira; nothing has changed. Even this hotel room you've never seen before looks like all the other hotel rooms you had ever found L in. Aizawa flips a page of his printout, and the sound is like a knife being sharpened. Soichiro makes a musing noise, a 'hmm' familiar to you for years: it's as loud as a retort. The chain hanging from your left wrist pulls against you whenever Ryuzaki moves.
You find yourself staring at Mogi where he's seated and paging through files. He's a large man, solidly built, with close-cropped hair; although he could probably take down your father in a fight he moves with a kind of quiet ease, less noticeable than someone his size should be. It's a stark contrast to Aizawa's loud and forceful movements; Soichiro's punctuated breaths, through which you can tell whether he thinks there's anything to the material; even Ryuzaki, who has perfected the art of saying nothing while making his feelings eminently clear through the precise tenor of the shuffling items in his hands or the angle of his slouch. While there's nothing unusual about someone being a little quiet, this man is in the Kira task force, and what's more, he's someone Ryuzaki had kept you from knowing about until now. Did L have him following me?
The thought picks at you. You try to remember if you'd seen anyone like him before, but you're sure you haven't.
I still don't even know his full name, you think. The Kira case files are in your hands. You force yourself to look at them, and stare at lists of dates and numbers in numb incomprehension.
/
There are only two things that really stick out to you: the first is the way Kira's kills over January 8th through the 10th had been relatively minor criminals, an obvious break in not only his usual pattern, but the foundation of his M.O. as well. This, along with the way Kira had switched to killing on the hour on December 10 and 11 last year, after the leak from the police about him possibly being a student, the "experiment kills" on December 19th, and the fact that he also killed the FBI agents who went after him, are proof that Kira has more flexibility in both what he'll do, and to whom, than the image of him would suggest.
The second thing that sticks out to you, possibly even more than the first, is Kira's killing break that coincided with the first two weeks of your confinement exactly, from June 1 to June 14. Maybe it's a coincidence that it lines up so neatly, but you have a feeling it isn't. It seems that even if Misa was not at one point the Second Kira, she knew the Second Kira, so perhaps Kira actually stopped because of her arrest? She was arrested on the 28th, but Kira wouldn't necessarily know about it immediately.
Still… if you mention that, the only thing it will lead to is Ryuzaki insisting you should be able to get close to Misa and get her to confess to something.
So instead of mentioning any of this to Ryuzaki, you just look at the rest of Kira's kills, both before and after Misa's arrest and your confinement.
Why would Kira stop killing and then start again? You can't stop thinking about it as you look blankly down at the information. You feel as though there's an obvious answer just out of reach, but you can't concentrate enough to find it.
If he was trying to frame me, why would he stop?
You flip to another page. The handcuff jangles.
And how did he know to frame me?
He had an in with the task force.
It's not through my father, or through Matsuda. I think Aizawa has a wife, maybe she…? What, is Kira? Still, it's possible… no, Ryuzaki would have investigated the families of everyone in the task force, the way he did to me… he wouldn't have missed someone obvious… your gaze travels to Mogi again.
It's around nine in the evening when Matsuda returns with Misa in tow. "She, uh, wanted to say hi—" Matsuda stammers as Misa launches herself at you, clinging onto your arm.
"Misa missed you so much today," Misa says. "I did another photoshoot and the whole time I was thinking about my Light."
"Uh."
She curls onto the couch and presses herself against your side, smothering you in the scent of her perfume. You think you can feel the flat and wide-eyed look Ryuzaki is giving you, and it keeps you frozen between the twin impulses to either pat a reassuring hand on her back or to push her away. The only safe course of action seems to be to not react at all.
At last Matsuda wrangles the girl away, and soon after that the task force disperses, leaving you and Ryuzaki alone in the hotel room once again.
"Light-kun is entirely certain that he can't get close to Amane?" Ryuzaki says. "It wouldn't require much…"
"I already told you I can't."
"But surely he doesn't want to obstruct the investigation?"
"I'm going to go to bed." You stand up and take a step away from Ryuzaki. He doesn't move, and the chain goes taut between you: you scowl and yank on it, and Ryuzaki unfolds himself from his curled-up seat and slides his hands into his pockets, watching you with a considering look. It prickles against you, cold and familiar.
He brings his laptop into the bathroom while you get ready for bed, typing aimlessly, and you realize you've forgotten to fix the toothbrush issue.
You brush your teeth anyway, feeling disgruntled.
And still can't sleep.
Tonight, Ryuzaki is even more restless; in fact, at some point he begins clicking his tongue in a metronome sound that makes you seriously consider strangling him.
You poke your head over the pillow barrier and glare at him. "Could you keep it down over there?" you say. "I know you like to fidget, but just… tap your fingers or suck your freaking thumb or something."
Ryuzaki stares at you for a long moment. "But that wouldn't make noise," he says at last.
"Exactly," you growl.
Ryuzaki gives you a look of deep disappointment, but you only roll over and try to go to sleep.
He's clicking his tongue again.
"Ryuzaki…!"
The sound stops. Ryuzaki shifts position, pulling the covers this way and that. You find yourself deeply missing your bed in prison, which is really the most pathetic thing you could have done.
Around two in the morning, you manage to fall into a disturbed and uncomfortable sleep.
/
"Fifty-nine, sixty, sixty-one, sixty-two, sixty-three…" L is talking, but his voice sounds close, stripped of the camera's patina of tin. How did he get in the cell with you, and what is it he's counting? You wake fuzzy and disoriented, a hotel mattress underneath you and sheets tangled in your legs. Oh, you think. And then: so Ryuzaki does brush his hair. "Sixty-four, sixty-five," Ryuzaki is crouching on the edge of the bed and smoothing a boar's-bristle brush down his hair, occasionally stopping to deal with a particularly unruly knot, "sixty-six, oh hello Light-kun, sixty-seven,"
"What are you counting?"
"How many times I've brushed it. Shh," Ryuzaki puts a finger to his lip as he says it, then, with a look of deep concentration, begins working at the section again, "sixty-eight, sixty-nine—I have to get to a hundred."
"Okay," you say. He's almost to a hundred anyway.
Unfortunately, what Ryuzaki neglects to mention is that he has to get to a hundred on each segment of hair he's brushing, and halfway through you drag him out of bed, still brushing his hair, so you can go into the bathroom and start getting ready. He perches on the side of the sink to continue his task, with his legs dangling down, looking awkwardly unfolded, while he tries to remember where he'd been at.
"It was thirty-seven," you say.
"Are you sure?" he twirls a strand of hair between his fingers. "I really thought it wasn't. Nevermind. I'll just start again." This is bad enough; but when he's done brushing his hair, he pulls a bone comb out of his pocket and starts combing through it, too.
"You can't be serious," you say. "You just brushed it, what's the comb for?"
"The comb is for tangles," Ryuzaki says, "the brush is for even distribution of oils."
"Ryuzaki," you say, "You spend far too much time on yourself just to look like a wreck."
He just shrugs.
"Pack whatever you wish to bring with you," he says finally. "We're moving to another hotel today."
You glance over at him, but he's concentrating on combing his hair.
"Pack what?" you say, a little sharply. "The single toothbrush?"
"You could have asked housekeeping if it bothered you so much," Ryuzaki says.
And he's right. You don't know why you haven't thought of it. It's such a simple thing, too: but every task seems like it exists in a haze.
"Right," you say. You force a smile. "That's a good idea, Ryuzaki. Can I get a change of clothes too?"
"I'll call Yagami-san if you'd like to ask."
"Thank you."
He waits until he's done with his hair and has walked into the other room, zipping his laptop and the case-files into his briefcase and folding in another set of jeans and white shirt. Then he flips open his phone and dials. "Yes, Yagami-san, Light-kun had a question…" without letting go of the phone, which is held in his weird two-fingered grip, he dangles the phone in the general direction of your face.
"I just wanted to know if I could get a change of clothes?" you pause.
On the other end of the line, your father says, "of course. I should have brought more to begin with…"
"That's okay," you say. "I think we've all had a lot on our minds. Uh, anything is good. It's all in my closet anyway. Thanks so much, tōsan. Oh, wait—can I get my toothbrush too?"
"After it goes through a security check," Ryuzaki says.
"…I can buy a new toothbrush," Soichiro says. "Still in the packaging. Will that suffice?"
"Yes, that should be fine," Ryuzaki says.
You stare at the floor. "It's not a big deal, tōsan. I just realized, I can ask housekeeping."
"Are you sure, Light?" your father says.
"Yeah," you say. "Really, it's fine."
Ryuzaki hangs up abruptly, folding the phone closed.
He glances around the room. "I think that's everything. We should get going."
"Okay."
He leads you out into the hall in bare feet, holding his sneakers in one hand and his briefcase in the other. Fortunately, you don't pass anyone in the hall, but when you step out of the elevator into the lobby with its marble floor and the soft tones of a grand piano, a man talking on the phone gives you an odd look, and the chain hanging from your wrist seems heavier than ever.
"Watari should be around in about five minutes," Ryuzaki says, checking his phone. "He'll check out. If you like we can wait in the lounge."
As you settle yourself on a beige chair, you say quietly, "you aren't afraid of being noticed?"
"He'll also erase the security footage after we've left," Ryuzaki says. "Kira won't be able to find us through this." He follows your gaze to the chain and says, "if it makes you feel any better, they've seen weirder."
"Have they?"
"Yes. Anyone with this much money to spend is either too rich to care, or a criminal, or both. You'd be surprised at the kind of stuff that goes down in expensive hotels."
It's not long before the car arrives: a limo with tinted glass between you and the driver. The driver wears a hood over his face anyway; Ryuzaki refers to him as Watari. So is this the other member of the task force he wouldn't show me. L's infamous right-hand man, who always shows up with a trenchcoat and a fedora…
The next hotel is much the same as the first, only with slightly different decor. Watari has already checked in, so the two of you are able to quickly proceed to the new room, where you call housekeeping to ask for a toothbrush; and then you drag Ryuzaki over to the coffee pot. It's only a few hours since you've woken up but your mind feels slow and sluggish; at this rate you'll never be able to concentrate on the case. You take sips from your mug, the warmth at least an immediate relief.
Soichiro is the first one to arrive; he brings with him an entire bag of clothes from home and, sitting on top, a new toothbrush still in its packaging, placing the bag in your hands.
"Tōsan…" you say helplessly.
"It's the least I can do," your father says.
You pick up the toothbrush. Inside the plastic and cardboard, you can see that it's a bright green: your favorite color. "I should go change before the others arrive."
You lead Ryuzaki into the bathroom and close your eyes, resting your hands on the edge of the sink. For some reason, there's a lump in your throat.
During the second half of the day, Ryuzaki paces the floor while the rest of the task force exchange theories about Kira. Fortunately, you don't see Misa for more than a moment; she waves to you in the corridor as you're both going to your rooms.
Ryuzaki stares gloomily out the windows on the city that lights up incrementally as twilight falls. He's slumping forward more than usual, his hands shoved in his pockets and his chin tucked against his chest.
You try to concentrate, but in between all the information about Kira's victims, the thought that jars you and rattles around in your mind is why did Kira try to frame me, and then stop? And how does he know everything the task force does?
Your forehead feels clammy, and despite taking more and more sips of coffee, you can't seem to crest over the waves of tiredness tied into your bones.
In the evening, Ryuzaki takes a bath. This means that you have to stand around waiting for him to be done for nearly an hour, and then he changes his clothes—not that anyone would know it, since he changes into the exact same style of outfit he had on before, from the plain white shirt down to the old, much-washed jeans. You call up housekeeping and ask for a comb for your hair, avoiding your face in the mirror.
Ryuzaki can't sleep, so neither can you. He's clicking his tongue again, so you say something about turning the fan on if he wants more noise… the air conditioning is on already, since it's near the end of July and it's baking.
Ryuzaki finds some rain noise on his computer, and leaves it running all night. He forgets to plug it in, and in the morning the computer is dead.
You wake up to find Ryuzaki holding the laptop forlornly, in the same way he holds everything—between two fingers. You wonder if he's ever accidentally dropped an expensive piece of equipment like that.
Probably, you decide.
"Light-kun, it is dead," he says.
One look at the issue and you realize what happened. "You had it running without the cord. You used up the battery. It's not that big of a deal, Ryuzaki," you say.
"I shouldn't be surprised," Ryuzaki says, with that purposeful, dramatic intonation he only uses when he's playing a scene. "If Light-kun were Kira, of course he wouldn't care that it is dead."
"Ryuzaki," you say, gritting your teeth, "just take it in the other room and plug it in."
He sighs, looks at you like you're the source of all the problems in the world, and, holding his computer to his chest like it's some kind of infant, jumps out of bed and walks into the main room.
You're ready this time, and you barely even trip following him; you've managed to figure out how to tell when Ryuzaki is about to do one of his sudden dashes and are pretty proud of yourself that it's only taken four days of being handcuffed together to do so.
He plugs in the computer, and crouches down in front of it, waiting for it to light up.
Today, when the task force arrives, Ryuzaki quickly grabs one of the piles of information on the Kira kills and sets himself up to look busy, resolutely ignoring everyone else.
You drag his computer over to you, and watch his eyes jump up at the noise, watching you suspiciously.
"I'm just checking something," you say, turning the screen so he can see it, and begin to click around on "The Book of Kira." It's a fan site that tries to track every Kira kill known to the public, and though it will lag behind the data compiled by prisons there's always the possibility that the Kira fans will have picked up something in the past two months' data that the task force missed; through the sheer power of collective intelligence. The additive nature of fan-made contributions is something that the gaming world has figured out, but you're pretty sure it would baffle most of the NPA.
Once he seems sure you're not about to do anything immediately suspicious, Ryuzaki's gaze drifts away. He doesn't even seem interested in making a comment about you already being familiar with Kira fansites, which is a jab so easy it basically writes itself. He just stares vaguely down at the papers in front of him, folding the top one back and forth until it turns into an origami heart. He stares at it, and takes it apart again, turning it into a boat.
In the evening, Misa calls you on the hotel telephone. "I was so busy today, I couldn't even visit you, and then I heard you were doing important investigation things," she chatters. "But Misa just couldn't go all day without hearing your voice, Light!"
"That's nice, Misa," you say.
You put the phone down and put it on speaker while she rambles about some shoot she's been doing and how annoying so-and-so is… somehow Matsuda chimes in and for a while there's a lively back and forth that only gets broken by Aizawa storming out of the room.
Mogi picks up a cup of coffee and downs it.
"So, yeah…" Matsuda finishes with an embarrassed laugh, touching his hand to the back of his head.
Soichiro rubs his eyes and sighs. "I think we've all had enough time on the case, today," he says. "Maybe we'll be able to give it a fresh eye tomorrow."
.
.
.