In The Spaces Between Words

The electric kettle clicked off as the sound of water bubbling to boil filled the silence in the small kitchenette. Yagami Light slid a sideways glance at the other person in the room as he poured some of the hot water into a bowl. Dipping part of a small towel into the liquid, he dabbed at the bruises forming on his face, wincing slightly at the heat as he continued to watch the detective nibbling on his right thumb, clearly lost in his thoughts, thoughts that Light was obviously Kira and had somehow found a way to transfer his powers to someone else while in prison.

And that’s where this had started. He’d suddenly found himself locked up in a prison cell, of his own volition no less, wondering what had come over him to make him tell a certain eccentric private investigator that he could be a well-known mass murderer. Of course he wasn’t Kira; he’d never even stolen a pen in his life, let alone kill a human being, what more murder hundreds of people. He just didn’t have it in him. Also, he was fairly certain one didn’t commit multiple homicides all over the globe and then simply forget it ever happened. He’d heard of suppressed memories, but those generally resurfaced under shock, stress or hypnosis, and the detective had tried all but the last on him. Or perhaps he had indeed once hypnotized him, and Light just didn’t remember.

First, L a.k.a. Ryuuzaki and/or Ryuuga Hideki had insisted on keeping him incarcerated for an innumerable number of days under his adamant belief that Yagami Light and the First Kira were one and the same, hoping to force a confession under pressure. The detective’s conviction was so strong, in fact, that Light was quite ready to plead coercion near the end of the prison term. It was true that if you told someone something often enough for long enough, he/she would eventually start to believe it, and the sugar-addict had certainly spent a long time drilling the supposed fact that he was Kira into him, whether by implying it or just outright saying it. That might have been why he had done something as ludicrous as asking to be imprisoned.

Then, the genius had made his father take him to some deserted spot and shoot him just to see if he would crack and kill his father under the threat of death. It may have been a blank, but at that range, even a blank could kill. All it took was half an inch to the right, and Yagami Light would have been no more. The next to come in the detective’s list of drastic measures was this chain that now clinked softly between them as he continued pressing the hot towel to his jaw, keeping them together 24/7. As a result, he’d already had to endure the insomniac’s ridiculous sleeping schedule, or rather the lack thereof, for the past few days. And now, said insomniac was saying he had no motivation to continue the investigation because he was depressed, depressed because he had wanted Light to be Kira and had been proven wrong. After all that hell he’d put Light through, if that wasn’t asking for a fight, the brunet didn’t know what was.

So he had hit him and here they were in the kitchenette of the suite they shared with an awkward silence between them as he dabbed at the sore parts of his visage to keep it from bruising too badly in the morning while the other simply slouched slightly against the kitchen counter, nibbling on his thumb absently. He noted the redness of the other’s cheek and brow where he’d hit the detective earlier as he dipped the towel into the steaming water again; it would probably bruise if something wasn’t done about it, but the other didn’t seem to care. Light wondered why he cared. It was probably for the best that Matsuda had called the room with some inane facts on Misa’s rising popularity. Had he not interrupted them, they would probably in far worse shape now.

L flinched at the sensation of a very hot towel being pressed gently to his sore cheek, brought out of his reverie to blink up at his companion, slightly puzzled by the action. He hadn’t noticed when the brunet had stepped closer to tend the injury he himself had incurred, which was bad, since he should never take his eyes off a suspect as dangerous as Yagami Light. Even so, saying that he had almost wanted the other to be Kira was probably going too far after everything he had put the boy through. He couldn’t blame the other for hitting him, but he still wondered if it was just an act on Kira’s part to convince him that his suspicions were wrong.

Either Light was Kira and was acting upset that he felt unmotivated to continue the investigation just to avoid suspicion, or he really wasn’t Kira and felt upset that L didn’t feel like continuing the investigation after having put him through all that mental hell. He winced again as the hot towel was dabbed at the bridge of his nose. Maybe Light wasn’t Kira, since Kira wouldn’t care if he died, let alone if he had a large blue-black on his face the next day. Or perhaps it was all an act, an act to make him lower his guard and stop suspecting his first and only friend of being the mass murderer that he probably was. The detective repressed a sigh; he really was depressed. Second-guessing himself wasn’t going anywhere.

“Hold still,” the other muttered, still pressing the towel to the sore area under raven bangs lightly. “It’ll bruise if you just leave it.”

He silently obeyed, still feeling discomfited about the whole situation. It didn’t help that the brunet was invading a little too much of his personal space for comfort. The heavy silence stretched and stretched. And finally, even he, who had always been accustomed to silence and feelings of awkwardness around other people, couldn’t stand it any longer.

“Light-kun… I apologize…” he murmured quietly, peering directly at Light’s face to see the other’s reaction. “…about what I said earlier…”

Deep hazel eyes met midnight ones briefly before the other turned away to place the towel in the bowl and move the bowl to the sink. “Forget it.”

Had there been a flash of emotion in that brief shared gaze? If so, what was it? Perhaps he had simply imagined it, or if he hadn’t, it might even cost him his life someday for being unable to read it in advance.

“Ryuuzaki,” the brunet began quietly, interrupting his ponderings again.

He simply glanced over to show he was listening.

“I guess we’ll be getting some decent sleep tonight..?”

Well, since he wasn’t feeling very motivated to go over the investigation again, he supposed they may as well catch up on some sleep. It was a habit of his not to sleep more than two or three hours per day, but he knew Light was used to sleeping at least seven hours out of twenty-four, and the past few days must have been tiring for the college student, since he’d been rather insensitive and hadn’t left the computers for nearly three days straight, thereby somewhat forcing the other to sleep beside him on the couch. It couldn’t have been very restful if one wasn’t accustomed to it. Even as he considered it, the brunet covered a yawn with his right hand, and he found himself thinking that the other had an air about him that gave even the most mundane action a measured elegance. He shook himself slightly to rid himself of that peculiar thought.

“Yes, I suppose we shall,” he replied thoughtfully.

A small smile curved those elegant lips at that. “Hmm… Come on then.”

The detective shoved his hands in his pockets and trailed after his new roommate, enjoying the feeling of his bare feet scuffing the suite’s fuzzy jade green carpet. L was a light sleeper, and he didn’t sleep much in any case, so he’d probably awake before Light as usual. He’d probably let the other boy sleep in this time though. It really wouldn’t do anyone any good if the brunet fell sick. It’s also said that lack of sleep makes a normal person cranky and agitated, so maybe if he let the younger man sleep, they’d stop getting into such petty fights. Or maybe, he admitted, the fights would cease if he just kept his conviction that Light was Kira to himself.

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