L returns to his room, still clothed in attire from the turn of the 19th century; there's some urgency in his manner. He closes and locks the door behind him, makes his way to the sofa, and sits down, propping his elbows on his knees and supporting his forehead in his hands.
"Misa? We have to talk -- now, please."
[Thread is private to
firm_detective and
misamisal. Backdated a few days, to just after
this thread.]