In The Spaces Between Words

---Red and Black---


“Matsuda, you idiot,” he heard L mutter beside him for the second time that night.

Light shook his head. Matsuda was always so eager to prove himself, and while that wasn’t a problem in itself, it was bad if it got them into fixes like these. Misa was now on the way there, and hopefully, L’s plan would keep them both alive. He certainly hoped things worked out right; otherwise, both Misa and Matsuda were lost. Behind them on the sofas, his father and Mogi-san smoked nervously on a cigarette each. Aiber was drinking idly from a small flask of brandy, while Wedy had dismantled her gun completely and was presently wiping each component clean. Next to him, L was still nibbling on his thumb, face pensive but otherwise impassive. He himself had been twirling a pen in one hand while opening and closing the flap of his cellphone in the other. He looked over at L out of the corner of his eye. The only indication of the detective’s anxiety was in the way he was biting his thumb. While he normally only nibbled lightly on the skin or nail, he was now chewing off pieces of skin.

“Ryuuzaki…”

Just then, before he could even finish telling the other to stop before he hurt himself, the investigator winced slightly as a large drop of blood trickled down, staining his white skin a vivid red. In a flash, he was at the sugar-addict’s side, unthinkingly pulling the injured hand closer.

“Someone get a first-aid kit, please!” he called.

A rivulet of blood trickled down the other’s hand. It would soon stain the older man’s white shirt sleeve, and Light couldn’t find a tissue nearby to wipe it, so he did the only thing he could think of, leaning forward to lap up the blood with his tongue. It was a sweet metallic tang in his mouth, probably due to the other’s high blood glucose level. L was staring at him piercingly, toes clenching the edge of his chair tightly. He then took the injured digit into his mouth and sucked lightly to swallow the fresh drops of blood, cleaning the wound tenderly with his tongue. L gasped softly, fidgeting slightly and biting his lip lightly, and Light looked up into intense onyx eyes, holding that unreadable gaze with his own. Then Mogi-san was beside them with the first-aid kit, and the brunet lost his chance to decipher what was hidden beyond those fathomless black depths.


Yagami Souichirou observed his son’s concerned reactions and Ryuuzaki’s quiet acceptance of attention with a little relief. If L and Light were growing closer, the perhaps the percentage of Ryuuzaki’s suspicion of his son being Kira had decreased. As a father, he could not help but feel distressed that his offspring was suspect of mass homicide, especially since he was also a former subdirector of the National Police Agency, and it eased his heart a little that Ryuuzaki was beginning to let Light in.


He watched as the older man allowed the brunet to gently daub at the small nick with a cotton ball moistened with antiseptic liquid. Light seemed to care a lot about the detective, if the younger boy’s almost frantic alarm in response to the small cut was any measurement, although whether or not L reciprocated the feeling was rather dubious. It didn’t surprise him that the two felt a sense of kinship with each other despite their many clashes. Ryuuzaki was like an older, more eccentric and socially impaired version of his son, and he could see Light in L’s place easily. They were often the only ones who understood each other because their thinking was usually way ahead of the rest. It was fortunate that they had met, though he was loathe to give Kira any credit.

“This is the first time Ryuuzaki’s let anyone other than Watari see his face, I believe,” Wedy spoke up suddenly, sliding the last component of her reassembled gun into place with a resounding click.

“Indeed,” Aiber agreed next to her, swallowing another swig of cognac. He chuckled, glancing at Light carefully applying antiseptic cream to the sleuth’s thumb with a cotton bud. “He seems rather fond of the boy though,” he observed.

The oddball now had his chin between his knees, head tilted to the left to rest his cheek on one patella, and while he was unable to gauge the eccentric’s facial expression from his vantage point, the position from which Ryuuzaki watched Light tending his injury was the picture of adorable affection. The older Yagami allowed a small smile to curve his lips. If Aiber said so, then perhaps L did think fondly of his son, since the con artist was clearly the resident expert on people.

“That he does,” Wedy concurred, uncrossing and crossing her legs again before leaning back into the soft cushions. “Hmm… I wonder if… Well, he does seem the sort, I suppose…” the professional burglar mused aloud.

Clear blue eyes slid toward her, twinkling with amusement. “You think? The way he is, though, I sometimes wonder how he gets anything done.”

Red lips curled into a saucy grin. “Perhaps that’s a plus in itself.”

Having lost track of the foreigners’ conversation, the subdirector of the NPA merely took comfort in the fact that they both thought L and Light were somewhat friends now. Meanwhile, the brunet had pressed a small piece of finger plaster firmly and neatly onto the cut. He looked up at the detective, dark amber meeting obsidian with a mysterious intensity.

“There, you should stop doing that,” Light chided softly.

“Thanks, Light-kun.” Wide black eyes were always glazed over and blank, hiding their owner’s thoughts and emotions almost flawlessly. Almost.

Light paused hesitantly, unsure if he should say the next. “It’ll be alright,” he offered reassuringly, a tender look in deep hazel orbs as he squeezed a thin white hand lightly before letting go.

Although he often seemed to see people as a means to an end and was distrustful of others to the point of paranoia, L was actually a very kindhearted person. He was simply more inclined to seeing the big picture and thought it better to sacrifice a few to save many. Were he not such a caring man, he might have been a Kira supporter, what with his high ideal of justice, since if he could use a death row convict as a test subject to try to catch Kira, then certainly the only thing that kept him from supporting the massacre of criminals was compassion, a willingness to forgive past transgressions, allow a chance at repentance and give the benefit of doubt.


Light knew the detective was not as cold and ruthless as he made himself out to be, and he wanted to better acquaint himself with the gentle soul the other kept in a blast-proof vault. In truth, L still often made him want to violently assault someone or something in exasperation, but beyond that, he thought they were beginning to get along. He was actually starting to enjoy the oddball’s callous if not silent company, and sometimes, he thought if he could just reach out across that chasm that the sleuth had spent a good 20 years digging around himself, he’d find someone special he’d never get tired of being around. The ghost of a smile flitted across a pale visage, disappearing like the fragment of a dream, leaving Light wondering if he had simply imagined it. Then the older man nodded slightly.

“Just so you know, Yagami-kun, my suspicion of your being Kira has decreased by three percent,” L murmured nonchalantly. “Kira wouldn’t be so concerned about my having a small cut like that.”

Light wasn’t sure if the other meant it; it wasn’t like L not to second guess his prime suspect’s every single action. There was also the possibility that the world’s greatest detective was trying to lure his prey into complacency, but for once, the brunet decided to take the sentence at face value. He smiled, feeling one tiny step closer to understanding the enigma known as L.


A/N: Having received some comments on Light's skincare routine in Part 8, I thought I'd offer an explanation. XD I figure there's got to be a secret to that flawless complexion, lol, and I'm pretty sure there are guys who care a lot about their appearance and fashion. I believe they're called metrosexuals. To be honest, I'd bet Light is one, but really, that's just me. 8D"