Day 30: Men's Showers (Third Shift)

[notachick]

The lockdown had been interesting. The fact that the staff had enough power to put down a rebellion that quickly and then lock people into their rooms just as fast was something of a feat to be admired. Their efficiency would have been much more impressive if Okita had been on the other side of it, however. As it stood, he had to keep his

Comments

[cnflctofintrst]

[waiting for L!]

It took Mello nearly an hour of concentration before he was satisfied that he'd remembered as many details as he could. Despite the page of scratchy notes in his journal, he knew that he'd forgotten something important, and had his mood not been blunted by the sedatives, the fact would have made him furious. As it was, though, his mind could manage nothing more than sharp irritation.

When he heard the door open, he snapped the book shut and shoved it inside of his pillowcase. This nurse was not the one he'd dealt with that morning, which was probably for the best. When she informed him that he'd be taken to the showers, he made a quick reassessment of his mental state. The residue of sluggishness was still there, but it was nowhere near as strong as it had been at breakfast. If he observed people rather than interacting with them, he'd be fine. Maybe this time he'd actually remember everything.

The nurse left him at the door of what he assumed was a bathroom, but waited nearby until he'd made it inside. Once there, he ripped away the gauze that was taped to his arm and undressed, glad to be rid of those awful clothes. Anything was preferable to that. Checking the other patients for injuries might give him some clues about how violent this place got, but he'd be careful not to be too obvious about it. He'd heard about prisons, after all.

Mello opened the door at the end of the bathroom and grabbed a wash towel from a basket by the entrance. A handful of people were in the room, and aside from a few unusual hair colors that seemed to be natural, none of them were particularly remarkable. Most were bruised or cut or otherwise injured, and they looked like they'd been though a lot more than usual people. That would work in his favor; he'd worried that he might stand out because of the scarring on his face and shoulder. He stood beside the shower faucet until the water warmed up, then grabbed a bar of soap. After the stress of the last few hours, hot water was surprisingly pleasant.

[cnflctofintrst]

There weren't many people that could effectively sneak up on Mello, even when he was drugged. Unfortunately, L was one of them. Even though he'd known that L was in the institute, the shock of the familiar voice was more still stronger than the surprise appearance beside him. How long had it been? Six years? Seven? The man's voice hadn't changed at all.

Although Mello didn't look over, it was clear from his expression and the sharp intake of breath that he'd been startled, and he didn't completely recover. "Ryuzaki," he said in a voice that was intended to be as unemotional as L's. The apathy was a miserable failure, though it would have been hard to pinpoint one of the many contradictory emotions he'd felt since recognizing the detective.

And, he knew, L would have expected all of it.

He'd come up with a list of questions that he'd planned to ask, but for now, he was rendered speechless. What can you say to the dead? Silence, though, was its own form of communication, and if L was going to stand there watching him, he'd prefer to have at least a little control over what he revealed. Impossible, but worth an attempt.

"How long have you been standing there?" he asked. Mello still hadn't glanced over. The voice was hard enough to deal with on its own.

[cnflctofintrst]

Mello nodded in response to the change of name, grateful that conversation wasn't expected of him. L's voice was level, the way it usually was, and he couldn't decide if he preferred it that way or not. He finally looked over to L, who seemed predictably calm and stoic. At least there would be no surprises.

Or not. The second statement caught him defenseless, and his eyes widened as he opened his mouth to protest. An instant later, though, all trace of shock vanished from his features to be replaced by a well-feigned expression of casual indifference. It was clear from L's quick sweep of the room that he was expecting someone, and that person could only be Light. As prone to emotional outbursts as Mello was, there was a reason he'd survived so long.

"Got it," he said when L had finished speaking, then reinforced the words with a slight nod. There was no need to say anything further. Mello only knew Light from photographs, and there was a slim possibility that he wouldn't recognize him. It was better to be cautious.

The room number was immediately committed to memory, as well as the request for a radio. It only took a few seconds to guess what L was planning, and Mello was annoyed that he hadn't thought of it himself.

[cnflctofintrst]

Of course it would happen like that. Light arrived as if on cue, as soon as L had finished saying everything important. Mello wondered if it that been planned, or if it was a fortunate coincidence. Most likely the former, he imagined.

He returned Light's nod with the tired expression he'd noticed on many of the other patients. Mello could feel his thoughts racing and it was a pleasant sensation, something he'd sorely missed during the last three hours. Any anxiety he'd felt about the current situation had evaporated in the last five minutes, replaced by the usual confidence. As long as he could think clearly, everything would be fine. Whoever controlled this place--Landel, if he recalled, or the man on the radio--was a person, just like anyone else. Any person could be defeated.

Mello's expression was thoughtful as he washed the last of the suds from his hair. The shampoo was oily and cheap, but he was willing to let that slide. The fact that Kira was standing a few feet away was a fascinating variable, something begging to be exploited. If L was right and Kira had no memory of him, it was a considerable advantage. More than he'd had outside, at any rate. He welcomed the opportunity to gain the upper hand.

The undercurrent of tension between the two of them seemed like a game. Ever since he'd discovered the facts about L's investigation, he'd wondered about the conversations that took place in the NPA headquarters, and this wasn't much different than he'd expected: both of them were comfortable in their intellect and intent on dominance. It was Kira's greatest weakness, if the last few months had taught him anything. Because of his overconfidence, Kira had left himself exposed, and ultimately, he'd be victim to his own blind drive for superiority.

Mello was glad he was above that sort of thing.

For now, there was no reason to speak. He listened to the exchange as he scrubbed the remaining soap from his arms, hoping that he could learn something from the way L fielded Kira's comments.