Chapter Text
Light's wide eyes darted around the room, assessing his situation, for what seemed it was the millionth time now. Perhaps with the amount of time he'd been sitting there, it had been.
There wasn't much else to do, it was all but the same mindless routine day after day, and eventually, living life off a tape recorder buffering gets easily repetitive and the lines marking the edges of how time passes tend to blur, hours become seconds and days become minutes. He was almost certain that, in the blink of an eye, it'd be evening and L would tell Light he was free to go to bed as always as long as he answered a few little questions beforehand, always, as if those few little questions were just day to day life, a minute detail and not a violation of his human rights, whether they were necessary to prove his innocence and remain in the norm or not. His wristwatch ticking away the seconds would've been helpful, if it hadn't been discarded of on the other side of the room in his little chair, because, in the cold detective's words "The metal it contains could be of harm." Whether he was being watched or not, therefore it posed some sort of, albeit completely faux, risk. Or, that's what was said. Half the time, with the ridiculous extent the noirettes protocols for his confinement went to, even if it was something Light was in a partial agreement on, were completely out of the question. As if L were trying to mind-game him, fuck with his head further by making up ridiculous rules. The brunette wasn't exactly sure how socks posed a threat to his safety, but as he always does, his captor found a way to justify his logic and have Light discard of them in a ridiculous manner. Even the lone, now manic seeming shinigami bent in the corner rather awkwardly seemed to agree it was rather strange, not that Light could make conversation with him on it. He tapped his fingers idly on his chin, doing his best to avoid eyeing anywhere specific where his little friend stood usually, as, wouldn't it be suspicious to stare anywhere remotely pretaining to the shinigami? Would Kira fixate on specific spots of the room? His mind wandered, before, snapping himself out of it unnoticeably as if Kira didn't have a favorite corner of his cell, he would dwell on staying inconspicuous. How boring, though.
One thing that wasn't conspicuous, he thought, was voicing an interest in whatever was going on in the room he was being surveyed from. Light looked over to where he had assumed the camera had to have been, cleared his throat, silent and exact, speaking up in a quick decision. "Ryuzaki, I'm gonna guess it's getting late.. Has everyone gone home yet so we could get this over with?"
Of course, Light was referring to their routine. A clockwork of cat and mouse. Usually, when nobody remained, or, few, such as Soichiro, perhaps Matsuda if he were absent enough, and Watari, his rival would either enter his cell directly or at least give him some sort of connotation as to what the eternity confined in a set of 24 hours would entail, however he recieved complete radio silence.
"I'm hoping to go to bed soon, or, maybe end up with sort of breakthrough?"
Oh, the ever hopeful Light Yagami. Just by the certain manner he spoke in, it felt almost clinical, the set routine he had been in of awaiting the detectives moronic trailing on about how suspicious he was; and yet, tonight, nothing. Light wasn't sure if it were maybe some sort of trick, yet another odd act of torture, but he was of one thing and it was the fact he was bored. Maybe he could sneak some meaningless chit-chat in, if the detective would let him, in which he sometimes did.
L crouched in his chair, back leaning against the velvet just a bit, a white plate rested on his knee.
He placed a fork onto his mouth, his tongue swirling over the prongs and tasting dainty frosting. He hummed in approval, idling the metal utensil in his mouth for a bit as he thought. His eyes stared off into the television in front of him that displayed his suspect, the irony taste of metal pricking his tongue as he licked the fork still, even stripped of its frosting.
Light sat so strangely, he thought, as he realized most of the time he merely sat with his legs together on the ground, against the frame of the bed. Perhaps this was a way to stay inconspicuous? Better to keep your actions simple, rather than to act outlandish. The black haired man let out a small groan from the thinking he had done all day, setting the plate down on the table, until he heard the brunette begin to speak. His interested immediately peaked, discarding the utensil and plate and leaning forward with his eyes widened and focused on the screen.
Ah, so he wanted to sleep... did he even know the time? L surely knew he didn't either... he didn't keep a clock on him, and his laptop wasn't on. The room was dark, however, and everyone else had left, so it had to be night. L grabbed the microphone on the table and positioned it towards his lips, then holding down a button to access the intercom. "Yes.. it is quite late, isn't it?" He pondered, staring down at the microphone, then back at the television, to watch Light's peak of slight excitement when he begun to speak.
"Hmm... would Light-Kun like a visit from me first, though? It's not often you speak to me before I do first..." His thumb met his lips, nibbling gently at the skin and the broken nail on his finger out of thought. Even if Light speaking to him first wasn't directly suspicious, he did want to know what it was for.
Light looked around the room, almost in a trance from the relief. It was almost whimsical, hearing a voice over the loud speakers, he was never sure where exactly to look when he heard them, he wanted to be certain he was making some form of 'eye contact', though, or as close to eye contact as he could manage; even if he was the one being watched and there was no other real person to look at, just the remnants of distortion, noise through a machine being projected to where he was.
A voice, of someone he himself would consider a practical stranger, in the situation he was in. Nowhere to look though, to closen that contact between the two, have it feel less as if he is prey being watched carefully, threatened, and more so two colleagues working on a murder case which he himself was responsible for. A business relationship. Perhaps, a friendship? If he really wanted it to sum up to that, he could, even though he was aware on neither end was there a real desire for friendship, and it stemmed from malice, competition, between their tight-knit tension they could establish something, for the sake of being able to occupy time.
Even if Light knew he didn't need it, it would ease the blow of this all, perhaps Ryuzaki would go easier on him if he showed a genuine sovereignty, break down his cracks no matter how unrealistic it may be, and, Light could even argue he enjoyed conversation with him when it didn't relate to the subject of Kira the entire time. Morally questionable or not, L was no monster, he at least entertained Light from time to time. He could hold a conversation if it would end in his favor or he himself were bored. Dare he say, he even enjoy it, speaking to L after being deprived of everything a teenager in his situation needs? He would never utter it to anyone, not directly, but he did want contact, and you grow desperate when deprived. He wanted company, he was lonely, to be blunt. If he were stuck there any longer, might he even settle for a boring, brittle conversation with Misa, though lovey-dovey and vomit inducing. No matter. As long as he stayed nestled in his thoughts, he was wasting time.
One thing he had picked up on the detective over time, a trait he himself could relate to, he was exact. Very precise, and he didn't like to wait for the obvious. Impatient, you could say. Light himself was, too, there was no real sin being committed, especially with Light staying as polite as one could thrown into unfortunate circumstance. He would look on edge doing anything else, too consumed with his thoughts. Suspicious. He wondered how much that would raise his percentage, this silence. Maybe 8%? Nono, lower.. The brunette felt the need to break it, no matter what percentage he remained at. Even if he was equipped with a rather difficult task, his elder being if not anything else, unsociable. Awkward, at times. It was almost a chore to keep up with.
L himself was a chore, one he wanted to rip the band-aid off of and get out of his way, so he could have alone time, even if he knew he'd enjoy the sting of his metaphorical fabric tearing from skin. "I'd say so, I feel like I've been awake for hours.. I know dad is gone, so, if you.. Want to visit, I'm not going to turn it down, if it gets our evenings over with faster." He almost winced when he was finished speaking, he was so indirect it hurt. Beating around the bush. Just a little longer of that, though, he knew, and he'd get what he was really hoping for, naturally between the two. That's just how they functioned. Ever optimistic, Light was, that anything would differ from it's usual routine.
...
"Okay. I'll come see you, then."
He stared at Light, curiosity in his eyes as well as his mind. Such awkward tension they had, perhaps from another persons perspective, however L found it comforting, in a way. Speaking to someone who was currently confined due to his own actions gave him a lingering feeling of power, which made him smile against the microphone, just slightly. "Please sit against the wall furthest from the door and wait for me to arrive." He added, bluntly, before removing his finger from the button and standing up.
Light nodded his head, rather sheepish for a man like him, though, he kept his keen, confident expression towards where he assumed the camera had to have been. Once the familiar click of the microphone being shut off sent feedback audible to Light's cell, he knew it was hopeless to attempt and keep the valedictorian look he had on his face, overpreformed as he always would to remain 'himself', or how he was perceived through his outward mannerisms, and so he shuffled his way awkwardly to the wall, his restraints making it look comedically restricted, facing north of the closed doorway and what little he could see from behind that. He sat with his back strained against the concrete holding him hostage, sighing as he would much rather have sat with his back propped against the sturdy, course frame of what he wasn't even sure he could call a bed.
His fingers then ran through his messy hair, which did not do much besides make it look thicker. L began to make his way out of the surveillance room, the corridors dark and cold due to the absence of people, and his shoes hit the ground with an echo. It felt as if he were walking through the hallway of a hotel at night, as specific as it was, with the deafening silence being broken by only footsteps and breathing. He wondered what he'd do with Light this time, as each time he's paid the brunette a visit physically, they did not do much besides play cards, where L had to make the moves for Light because he was obviously detained.
Something made the noirette feel rather horrid, because each time he'd think about entering said confinement room, or even speaking to him through the intercom put a pit in his stomach he could not define. Arousal, perhaps, as inappropriate as he found it. He felt as if he had to refrain from doing things whenever he entered the room, blank of nothing but a bound up Light. In fact, L had even thought this through multiple times, telling himself that if the brunette put a move on him first, then that would be the only acceptable way to go through with the horrible thoughts that plagued his mind, which the statement being sensible, was also very illogical and was something he assumed to never happen. His internal monologue sat in his head for long enough that he found himself in front of the door that locked up his prime suspect, and with that he punched a code into the door handle's panel, a soft beep coming from it after he had gotten it correct. He jangled the doorknob, opening it slowly, perhaps just to tease Light and cause suspense.
Light quickly fixed himself up, not only realizing how timid he must look but hearing the ravenette man jingling his doorknob, it sent a jolt of adrenaline coursing through him, electric and pulsing as he angled his head towards the door, attempting to abandon his former meek appearance. He thinks he hears his shinigami give an unfriendly chuckle, though, habitually he refuses to stare in the direction of anywhere but up at his visitor, feeling as though he may burn right through him.
"Hello, Light." The detective murmured, closing the door behind him. He walked towards the brunette, towering over his sitting form and taking in the sight once more, up close, of his suspect so vulnerable. "How are you doing?" He leant down, into a crouching position as he always sat, knees up to his chest, in front of Light. His finger met his mouth once again, staring not into Light's eyes, but behind him, eyeing the chains that kept his hands together. L impulsively licked his lips, to rid of leftover frosting, of course. The room was cold, and L nearly felt bad for the brunette for having to stay here for so many days, not to mention how uncomfortable the ground was to sit on. He looked so timid for someone as egotistical as himself, curled up on the ground and bound by chains.
Light lacked a response for all of a moment, attempting to make it look as if he were thinking about an appropriate retort, when in reality he was making an internal remark on how clear the insomniacs voice was when face to face, he had almost forgotten the weight it held in person, the noticeable rasps of it holding themselves course outliers to a crisp, saccharine inflection. The feeling it gave him was almost arguably worse than anything else he could do, warmth in a cold room.
"Well, of course tired, and might I add uncomfortable against the wall, but I'm alright." The boy sat in the silence of his own head for a second, tuning the buzzing inside to question in his quiet moment whether he should add to what he said, would it be too compassionate to ask on behalf of L's well-being? Perhaps that's what he's looking for, a slip up. Too kind is suspicious, I'll be thought out nothing but a cold-hearted shell, a notable killer. He wondered if he himself should break the silence, hoping L would instead.
The black haired man leaned in closer, his legs shaking against the ground to keep his balance as he sat crouched in front of Light. The brunette was being inspected in some sort of way, inhumanely. An extremely awkward and still silence fell over the room as dark, wide eyes with shadows underneath them refusing to leave Light's. A small crack broke the silence after a bit, the breaking of L's nail as he bit into it. He still said no words. Silence. A small bit of his fingernail being pulled off and spat out onto the floor, then his thumb returned back to his mouth.
...
"Want me to uncuff you?"
Light fell silent himself, the atmosphere having such a bite to it, tension so thick the teenager may have almost collapsed himself, despite his posture being the sturdier of the two.
With a lack of any noise to focus on, maybe the quiet buzz that silence held inside buildings if he were to put in the effort of focusing on something so mundane he was used to tuning out, he had absentmindedly resorted to focusing on everything else he could feel, if to not go completely insane. The cold against his back from where the metal pressed closest to him, in contrast to the heat not any further than a foot away from him, he swore he could almost feel the moisture of the detective's breath between every motion. Most importantly, what he could see in front of him, the unnaturally dark eyes, beady black fixtures that could only be L himself, bore into him and as if to strip him from his humanity, as if he were being undressed; A specimen rather than a captive, further demeaning. In the time it took the ever attentive brunette to comment on all of this to himself, perhaps too analytic, the contrast of the obvious sound of nail breaking brought him right back to where he was, rather than safe in his head. The crisp, monotone voice of the man across from him further came into focus, rather than casting down upon him like God did to man, they were face to face and L had just asked something that had seemed so otherworldly to Light he was half certain he was hallucinating.
"..What? You're definitely joking, Ryuzaki.. Unless you're going to bind my wrists to each other some other way or you're trying to test me, you aren't serious. I don't see a card deck."
I don't know why I'm doing this...
L's hands shook as he fumbled around in his pocket for a ring of keys, kneeling on the ground to go through the many jangling pieces of metal that clanged against each other obnoxiously.
"Stay still."
His fingers caught a specific, smaller key; then reaching behind Light and trying to find his arms behind his back. Their position was even more awkward than before now, breathing softly into his suspect's face as he blindly slid his fingers across Light's wrists and restraints to try and find where the key was to be inserted.
Light did his very best to remain inattentive seeming, he shut his eyes, trying to comfort himself from realizing how disgustingly intimate it felt to have the detective so personal towards him, so casually. He shuffled his arms in a similar way to L's fidgeting, trying to make it easier as he had a fair idea where the key should enter, but remained tense other than that, doing his best to not shiver or pull far away from it as he had wished to.
As a response to Light's squirming, L grabbed hold of the brunette's wrist and held it in place tightly, under his sleeve, the joints in his knuckles pressing tight against his bare skin. He continued to slide the key around to find the keyhole, the key sliding against the metal and jabbing Light's wrist a bit due to L's frustration. He didn't get it in until about 20 seconds of holding the brunette still and feeling both of his hands up to see if the lock was even there anymore; impossible but that was how it felt.
Light's breath shook, going stiff and holding himself still in proper fear to how forceful the detective's grip was. One thing that remained consistent no matter what it was with him is that, when confined, he had come to the realization it would without fail, end faster if he just submit to what the other had asked. Usually, albeit strange, L asked simple things of him, such as to hold still, which remained difficult in almost every situation; But Light knew himself well, and he'd rather not cause a scene. He stilled himself under the iron grip of his captor, figurative and literal, allowing the key to make it's way into the compartment after the turbulence and letting the frustrated detective inch himself ever closer to see if he had gone mad. Luckily, his suspicion of madness had proven false, as the cold metal loosened itself noticeably around the brunette, the pressure of the key jabbing against bare skin parting with. A sigh of relief left Light when the click made itself known and a deep hope inside the boy's head that the detective's hands would leave him immediately followed, he wasn't sure what he could want more than to be untouched.