You're not even bothering to stare at your computer or pretend to work. What's the point? Everyone who matters already knows that L is Kira.
You don't know how long it's been, but the ceiling hasn't gotten any more interesting.
Unfortunately, neither has anything else.
Moving would take such intense effort it really isn't even worth it.
Time seems to drip by you, as slow and sticky as honey. And you stare up at the ceiling.
A harsh whisper carries through from the other side of the room. "What the fuck is going on, Mogi? How long has he been like that?"
"I don't know, all day I think…"
"And you didn't think to tell me?"
"I did tell you!"
"Earlier, Mogi!"
"Aizawa…"
"Sorry. I'm sorry. I—thanks. I'll deal with it, okay? Give me a second."
The echo of footsteps bounces off the high ceiling, coming closer. They stop near your chair, but you don't bother to look.
What would be the point, anyway.
"Hey, Light-kun," Aizawa says kindly. "How are you doing?"
You don't answer. "That bad, huh?" he continues, in that steady, gentle tone. "Okay, no worries." He picks up your left wrist, turns it around in his hands, and then pauses for a moment before placing it back in your lap. He rests a hand on your shoulder and keeps talking. "So, today Mogi and I were working on the numbers for last week's deaths. Twenty-six. All criminals who'd recently been on the news… so Mogi said to me, 'you know, I feel like Kira used to kill more variably, I mean, some recent kills and then some infamous criminals that had been in prison for ages already.' Like a break in the pattern, you know?" He rubs gently at your shoulder. "Of course, when we looked through it, we found—"
"No statistically significant difference," you say. Your voice is a harsh croak, quieter than you'd meant it to be.
Broken. The word rings in your head, resounding.
"Exactly. So, uh, that was a bust but. How about you? Any new theories?"
"Not lately."
"Yeah, that's all of us. How about some coffee, Light-kun? Would you like that?"
"What are you doing, Aizawa-san?" you force out, turning to look at him. "I'm not some idiot child," you add, with a measure of bite in your tone.
"Yeah, just the prodigy genius," Aizawa says. "How about it. Coffee?"
"I don't—" he's just… standing there. Staring at you. You wish he would go away. Easiest and quickest way to make that happen—"sure," you say.
"Okay. I'll be right back, give me five minutes." Aizawa squeezes your shoulder once more and walks off toward the break room.
You drag your gaze away from him; find it hits, unexpectedly, the dark computer screen, and you flinch at the sight of your drawn expression. It's all—I can't— Fortunately, your thoughts stop short, falling back into muffled apathy. What does it matter, anyway.
You turn to see Ryuzaki crouching backwards in his chair, looking vaguely into the distance as though in thought, hands clasped over the edges as though he's holding onto the bar on a rollercoaster ride.
Him.
His fault.
If you had more energy, maybe you'd push him right off his chair and onto the floor—
Aizawa walks back over, cup of coffee in hand. Instead of just handing it to you, he takes your palms, puts them cupped against the warmth. You stare down into the dark liquid.
"Thanks," you say, because you're supposed to. You really couldn't care less. You didn't even want coffee.
"Light-kun," Aizawa says seriously, "is something wrong? Is there anything I can do?" He tries to catch your eye, but you continue looking stubbornly down. After a moment, you realize… wait. The plan. He'll mess up the plan if he does something. You don't really care about the plan, either—you care about surprisingly little right now—but you can't fail in that too. All it needs is a sentence. If only you could remember how…
Words. One in front of the other. Something halfway convincing. "No, thank you," you say politely.
He doesn't go away. You can feel the furrow in his brow, the worry that could so easily balloon outward. You have to manage it. You have to manage it.
Get a grip on yourself!
You pull in a breath as though coming up from underwater. Everything seems suddenly louder, more present. You look over at him and smile easily, making sure it reaches your eyes. "Seriously, Aizawa-san," you say. "I appreciate it, but I'm really okay. I just didn't sleep very well last night, and I guess I'm a bit out of it today," you say wryly, gesturing to obvious puffiness under your eyes. "I'm sure the coffee will help."
"Light-kun," Aizawa says, helplessly.
"I'm fine," you say, firmly. You keep the smile on your face, but add some steel into your expression; something that brooks no argument. "Thank you. If I need anything else, I'll be sure to ask."
He steps back. Looks at the ground, and you can see frustrated anger darting its way over his face before he swallows it down. "Okay, Light-kun. Sorry to bother you." He looks over at Ryuzaki, but doesn't say a word before striding off. You watch him disappear into the stacks in the reference room, moving out of view, and a minute later, there's a sharp, shaking clang. Like someone punched a fist against the metal wall.
No one mentions it.
/
What time is it—four o'clock in the afternoon? You check your watch, and, yeah—so why the hell is Misa clattering down the glass stairs with Matsuda trailing behind her? You thought she was at work!
"Hey, Liiight!" she calls out, relentlessly cheerful. "Guess who got out of work early today!"
"Hi, Misa," you say, without any enthusiasm whatsoever.
She skids across the floor and throws herself into a tight hug, her arms as clingy as an octopus, and she hops on your lap, swinging her feet out. Your chair swings with the motion, and her foot gets caught in the chain.
"Oops!" she giggles, shaking herself free.
"Misa," you say kindly, "what's the idea?"
"What's what idea?" she says, with a soft little pout up at you. "I'm spending time with my boyfriend 'cause I got out early!"
You're acting like even more of an idiot than usual, you think. But maybe it really is just high spirits.
"Hi Light-kun!" Matsuda says with a brilliant grin. He stands way too close to your chair, hovering.
Okay, no. This is a conspiracy.
You look from one to the other. "Who put you up to this?" you say.
"Excuse me?" Misa retorts, miffed. "No one, dummy! Right Matsu?" Matsuda shakes his head up and down, like a bobble-headed figure. You sigh.
"Misa," you say disappointedly, looking her in the eyes.
She looks down, then tightens her hug again, pressing her head close to yours. Quietly, she whispers in your ear, "tōsan was worried about you. I didn't think you'd want anyone else to know. He called me at work."
Your hand clenches around the arm of your chair. Aizawa, you meddler—! Nobody was worried, not even Soichiro, until Aizawa made a big deal about things.
"Thank you, Misa," you whisper back.
She leans back and says, louder, "so… Matsu and I were thinking… we've got the rest of the day to hang out, we should do something with it! Maybe go out into the city or something?"
"No," Ryuzaki says flatly. Misa glances over at him.
"Huh?" she asks.
"That's not a good idea," Ryuzaki says.
"But… I mean, why not?" Misa asks, sounding baffled. "You'll be right there and Matsu will too…"
You can just imagine the absolute catastrophe that would happen if you had to go into the city with Matsuda and Misa. Even if you've gone more than a little stir-crazy in here, you have no desire to leave the building. You can't even manage the fucking roof, for god's sake.
"I mean, If Ryuzaki says it's not a good idea, it probably isn't," you concede.
Matsuda and Misa send each other obvious looks of worry. "Oh no, it's worse than I thought," the looks say.
"How about we go down to the gym?" you ask.
"Really, Light?" Misa says, flatly. "The gym?"
"Yeah," you say.
"Well, uh," Matsuda says. "I mean, it's not that I don't like exercise but—oh!" he brightens. "How about the roof—"
"—Yes, let's go down to the gym," Ryuzaki announces loudly, standing up and sending two little "have I got your attention"-type tugs on the chain. You gently steer Misa from your lap and follow before he can drag you bodily across the room, and after a second Matsuda and Misa fall into step behind you.
"I mean," Matsuda says in a voice that isn't as quiet as he thinks it is, "he seems okay…"
Misa makes an audible scoffing noise, but declines to comment.
In the gym, you all stand around kind of awkwardly. You could go on the treadmill and ignore your hangers-on, but somehow you don't think that would make the right impression.
Ryuzaki swings the chain in a wide arc between the two of you, and Misa steps back before it hits her in the knees, giving Ryuzaki a glare.
"Jump rope!" you say.
"What?" everyone asks.
"We could play jump rope," you say.
"Do we have any?" Misa asks.
"I'll go check," Matsuda says, speeding towards the closets.
Ryuzaki swings the chain again, and you catch on, adding to the momentum. Misa hops over the arc of it with a wild grin. You take a better grip on the links near your hand and work up the speed, and Misa hops over the chain, which whirs, a thin silver glint.
"One," you say, counting with Ryuzaki. "Two. Three. Four. Five. Six. Seven…"
"It looks like there isn't any… oh," Matsuda says. "Wow, that's pretty cool!"
"Nine… ten. Eleven. Twelve. Thirteen…" Matsuda starts counting too, and Misa is quiet in concentration. Spiraling through the flashing arc of the chain, she looks like she is flying, her feet keeping perfect time without missteps, fierce and unbounded. When she finally stops, hopping out of the chain's length, she catches her breath and says, "hah! I've still got it!"
"Wow…" Matsuda says again, sounding dazed.
"You can try it too," Ryuzaki suggests. Matsuda takes one look at the chain and can see as clearly as you that the first thing that would happen would be him getting whacked in the knees by a very fast-moving piece of metal.
"Eh… I'm not really a jump roper," he says, putting his hand to the back of his hair. "But… why don't we play another game?"
"Like what?"
"Kagome Kagome?"
"We don't really have enough people for that," you say.
"Oh, the point is just having fun, isn't it?" Misa says. "I think it would be fun," she says.
"What game is this?" Ryuzaki asks.
"You can go first, and we'll explain it to you," you suggest.
"Matsu—" Misa hisses. "Get something we can use as a blindfold!"
"Is this some kind of game of tag?" Ryuzaki says.
"No, you just sit down here," you gesture to the floor, "and guess who's behind you when the song ends. Pretty simple really."
"I see," Ryuzaki says.
"I've got a blanket," Matsuda says, dragging one out of the closet and tossing it to Misa, who throws it over Ryuzaki's head.
You laugh.
Ryuzaki shuffles around for a moment, poking his hands out from under the blanket, and then, after a moment, his bare feet. Misa grabs onto your hand and you take Matsuda's and the three of you make a circle, all beginning to sing, in an even rhythm keeping time with your steps, "the bird in the basket the bird in the basket when will it come out in the evening of the dawn the crane and turtle slipped who is it who stands behind you?" Ryuzaki has to hold his right hand in the air so that the chain passes over his head instead of wrapping around him, and when you're done singing he guesses, "Misa-san." He pulls the blanket off his head and smiles when he sees he's right, standing up. Misa hops down in his place and pulls the blanket over her own head.
"Okay," she says, "I'm ready!"
The game is usually more trouble to solve; the greater the suspect pool, the harder it is to guess. Plus, the fact that Ryuzaki could tell from the chain where you were standing would've made it really only a fifty/fifty guess.
But it's just a dumb children's game, and as Misa pointed out, it's not like it's all that important. You grab onto Ryuzaki's hand, and the three of you start walking in a circle, singing the words. Well—Ryuzaki is droning them rather than carrying a tune, though he's able to follow the words at least, even if he's only heard the song once. The bird in the basket…
Of course the word could just as easily mean a cage rather than a basket; or it might be quite simple, a declaration that you're circling the person you're surrounding. Who is she, this caged bird? A woman with child? Kagome can mean either. The crane and turtle slipped… Her good fortune will soon end, along with the child's life, as she falls, pushed by someone…
"Who is it who stands behind you?"
"It's Light!" Misa squeals.
"Yeah, it is," you say.
"Eee! I knew I guessed right!" She throws the blanket off of her and hops to her feet. "Okay, your turn!"
You sit down in the center of the circle and pull the blanket over your head.
Lost, lost, is the bird in the cage… even with the blanket over your head, you close your eyes; close and hot, the heavy folds fall around you. When can it come out in the time between night and dawn, when you can't see light the crane and the turtle slipped…
The bird in the cage, the prisoner, his fortune and his life will soon both end.
If you look back, who is it that hides behind you?
"I stand behind myself looking at myself," the group choruses, and stops. For a weird instant, there is a prickling down your neck and body; that line—who stands behind—with its layers of potential meaning, all as equally possible as a living-dead cat in a box… something about the monster who hides in plain sight, "the power behind the throne." Something about being beheaded, gazing at your own back. Something about wondering who your executioner is, the one who will cut your life and your fortune—the crane and the turtle—short, and make them fall. But it's not just a morbid process of thought. It's something eerier than that; the distinct sensation, for an instant, that there's someone standing behind you.
Of course there's someone standing behind me, that's the point of the game! you chastise yourself.
"Matsuda-san," you say.
"You guessed it, Light-kun!" Matsuda cheers, and you pull the blanket off your head.
/
It's late by the time the four of you leave the basement gym, and you've gone through any number of children's games—hopscotch, statues, hide and seek and, yes, a very wild game of tag that had, at one point, devolved almost entirely into you and Ryuzaki yanking the other one close enough to tag, and then getting tagged in turn, completely ignoring the other two people in the room.
On the elevator you press the button for your floor, begging tiredness though Misa loudly protests.
"I'll see you the day after tomorrow, you know that, Misa," you say.
"But that's so long…" Misa sighs.
"Oh, by the way Light-kun," Matsuda says, "I got another letter from Sayu-chan…"
"You don't have to read it to me if it's the same exact thing," you say.
"Yeah, it is, I just wanted to tell you she's still writing!"
She's written one every week since the first one came in, so by this point you aren't surprised.
"Evidence, Matsuda," Ryuzaki says, and Matsuda fumbles in his pocket before pulling out the folded piece of paper and handing it to him.
"I'll be thinking of you always!" Misa says as the doors open, depositing her on her floor. As the elevator closes you can see her waving.
You sigh. "Well, that was a waste of time," you complain, as you and Ryuzaki step out onto your own floor.
"I had fun," Ryuzaki says. He puts a palm to the door-scanner of your apartment and swings the door open, and you step through, closing it behind you.
You shrug. "I guess it wasn't that bad," you amend.
"Yes, you've seemed kind of depressed the past few days so it was nice of them to think of it."
You roll your eyes. "Really? You don't have any leg to stand on when it comes to being depressed, Ryuzaki. Don't you practically wallow in it?"
"Only when it comes to Kira."
"Yeah, sure, because you're so attached to him."
"I could make a joke about the chain right now, but I won't."
"You literally just did."
"I literally just didn't. I only said I could."
"It's the same thing."
"No it's not."
"Okay," so you say, with long-suffering magnanimity, "what's the joke about the chain you could say but didn't?"
"Yeah, literally."
"I know you didn't literally say it, that's why I'm asking," you explain.
"No," Ryuzaki says. "That's the joke. You said, 'because you're so attached to him' and then I said, 'yeah, literally.'"
"Ryuzaki," you say, "has anyone ever told you that your jokes suck?"
"Quite a bit, actually," Ryuzaki says, looking over at you and saying, deadpan, "I can't imagine why."
You roll your eyes again and he grins.
You reach into your pocket for your phone and hand it to him, saying, "just for the record, I'm not Kira, and listening to your dumb joke doesn't count as a confession."
"I'm devastated," Ryuzaki says, putting the phone on the console table. "It was my most brilliant plan yet."
.
.
.