Give Me Back My Broken Night, My Mirrored Room My Secret Life

[dead_black_eyes]

Characters: L Lawliet and Zenjirou Kasai
Location: Death City's jail
Rating: PG?
Time: Jan. 3rd, early morning
Description: Though L hasn't outed himself as L, or even as a detective, pyromania is fascinating to him. He can't resist the intrigue that comes with visiting an incarcerated fire-starter and asking just a few questions.

Comments

[dead_black_eyes]

No matter how thoroughly he tried to hide it, "really dedicated" described L very accurately. It was to the point where he was still hung up on a case that had been closed, but that he had physically left before that point. He had a lot of mental energy that wasn't being put to use, in Death City, and he was starting to seek out opportunities. Even if there wasn't much of a puzzle element, to a fire whose starter had already been caught and imprisoned, there was a familiar element to it. While L had a difficult time relating to humans, there was a certain type of human that he was used to, that he gravitated towards and almost felt at home speaking to. Usually, they couldn't match him in intelligence. But he had personally caught so many, predicted their movements and their actions, that having a violent criminal so close created something of a rush. Did it approach the euphoric levels of the Kira investigation? Not quite... but if it was as close as he could come, then he wanted it.

"There are a lot of reasons you could have chosen that night and that building," he said, keeping his voice low. The moment one started shouting, one lost his dominance over the situation. "I want to know because I knew a boy once who tried to set himself on fire. You seem very well-acquainted with the element. I thought that maybe, of anyone, you could help me understand what was going through his mind."

[firebrands]

"The building was convenient. Timing was, too." If nothing else, that, at least, was true. An empty building was practically a godsend, and that his planning had happened right around New Year's was a lucky coincidence. Why not make it seem like a celebration? It wasn't perfectly timed, but few things were when you didn't have all the right materials to work with. "If you're looking for some elaborate explanation on that front, you've got a hell of a lot of exaggeration to do." Arsonists, he remembered reading, usually went after symbolic places, things that were meaningful to them. He'd lived in that building. That was about as meaningful as it got.

The craving for a cigarette was getting stronger by the second, but because he wasn't going to get one while with a visitor, Kasai kept his irritation in check. A week was plenty long enough for him to spend in here.

"I am very well acquainted with the element," he parroted, "but I don't think I can help you with that. Kids set themselves on fire all the time. It's usually an accident. I don't know what he was thinking any better than you do. Maybe he was suicidal." This part wasn't entirely the truth. Oh, there had been times when he'd stared at his work and found himself wondering what it would be like inside, and then there had been the two times he'd wound up finding out ... learning experiences, in short. But he wasn't going to bring those up. If whatever kid this guy was bringing up had been similar to Kasai in any way and not just a hapless match addict, then he might, he figured, have some insights. Might.

[dead_black_eyes]

"The building was uninhabited, right? So you weren't trying to hurt anyone, from what I understand..." his eyes wander to the man's hands and face. It's well restrained, but if the stale scent clinging to the man's clothes was any indication, L had something he wanted, neatly swiped from an officer on break's pack.

And a lighter, too. That was paramount.

"I think you might be able to help me, actually," he said, tilting his head, smoothly palming a cigarette from inside his sleeve and tucking it behind his ear, making it appear as if he was just smoothing a strand of dark hair away from his eyes to anyone except Kansai. "Do kids set themselves on fire all the time? And what if this 'kid' was old enough to know better? What if he was drenched in gasoline first, and locked in a new apartment that had never had a tenant? I wonder why he'd choose such a way to try to kill himself."

[firebrands]

"Trying, no. Wouldn't have been too broken up about it if someone did get burned, though."

His concern for the lives of others as blase as ever, Kasai was watching the kid outside the cell carefully for any little tics or twitches that indicated disappointment or disgust. No matter how casual some people were, carelessly tossing lives to the wayside got to most of them. But his eyes were instinctively drawn to the sudden appearance of a cigarette pulled apparently from nowhere. It narrowed down his vision considerably for a few long seconds.

" ... not all the time, but often enough," he said, watching Rue a little more warily than before. "Plenty of kids think fire's pretty and play with it. Most of them don't turn out like me. Look, I don't know what goes on in suicidal people's heads, but drenching yourself in gasoline and locking yourself in an empty apartment screams either martyr complex or suicide by guilt. Or he was looking for attention." For all his once-desires to see what it was like at the heart of the flames, he'd never considered actually burning himself to death. Not until that first critical juncture, anyway.

[dead_black_eyes]

If Kansai was looking for tics, twitches, or general changes in L's expression or bearing, he'd be hard-pressed to find them. Though L seldom interrogated people face-to-face, his default expression was blank and still, and even when his features rearranged themselves into something resembling a demonstrative emotion, the effect rarely reached his dark eyes. L was actually the odd sort of person who could elicit the uncanny valley in other human beings, just by merit of his reactions (or lack thereof) to common triggers and stimuli. He was absolutely human... but just maybe, there was something off, something missing, or something there that shouldn't have been.

"I think that all of those might have been true," L said, tilting his head at a slightly more pronounced angle as he palmed a second cigarette. It was his last one; swiping more than two would have been just a bit too obvious, even for a distracted police officer. But they were probably enough to satisfy any
nicotine addict's week-long cravings, or at least enough to alleviate them, making them tempting bait. Because those long seconds of staring made him realize that he was correct to swipe them, that he'd found a vulnerable place, an angle for manipulation. When L managed to do that, his opponents generally found themselves living on borrowed time. Unless, of course, L wasn't trying to race a clock. In those cases, an edge was handy, but not crucial, and not enough to ensure a psychological victory.

The second cigarette joined the first behind his ear, all but obscured in the tangle of thick, dark hair... but again, not before Kansai got a good look.

"I appreciate your insight," he said in his clipped, precise voice. "But you left one out, I think... a very good reason, and quite possibly your own. People concerned with public health will talk endlessly about 'silent killers', but they always somehow manage to leave out boredom. Because I thought about it... I tried to put myself into the mind of someone who would set something like a fire in motion. I think that I shared something in common with a fire, when I tried to think like you (out of boredom, no less)... I tried to take all the oxygen away from the people around me, for example. It didn't work... and I got lightheaded from the hyperventilation the attempt required. My point is that fires are self destructive. And that you were either self destructive before you came here, or something happened in Death City to make you that way."

[firebrands]

More than just a curious onlooker. Kasai watched the second cigarette appear and disappear, his attention less distracted than before. It was a damn shame he had a weakness that obvious, but it was one he'd dealt with for years; you learned to cope with it, and when people tried to use it, there were ways around them. It was just a bribe. A very effective bribe, but ...

Rue knew his stuff, or could at least put his mind in the right set without losing himself completely. Doubtless he read the texts and examined the criminals, saw what happened and what people said and analyzed everything to find a solution. Not a cop, but in the field of fighting criminals. Psychological warfare was probably this one's bent, especially since he could stare like that. But Kasai knew his stuff, too - he'd read up on what people thought about criminals. How everyone assumed the minds of people like him worked. It occasionally kept him out of police purview - or would have if he wasn't obsessed with signature styles - and gave him an edge in some conversations like this.

Boredom ... well, the kid had nailed it. Boredom had been his simultaneous downfall and ascension. So maybe Rue was a much more thoughtful type of analyst.

"If you want to talk about destruction," Kasai said, slowly standing with a wince, "then I'm the right person to come to. Self-destruction, not so much, even if it's not obvious." Though by all rights the kid had a point. Most of his life had been bent toward self-destruction, if unintentionally. "This city hasn't changed anything about me, except maybe my tolerance for stupidity." He limped toward the bars, coming close enough to be able to grab Rue through the bars if necessary - or leap back out of reach. "I'm more than happy to talk about what I do so long as I think you're not going to go running to someone about it and have me locked up for much longer, and if I think you're going to hand over something to make it worth my time."

It wasn't the most subtle attempt at one of those cigarettes, but god damn, he didn't smoke eight packs a day for no reason.

[dead_black_eyes]

In all truth, Kasai shouldn't have been too hard on himself. L was known in his own world for his uncanny ability to extract detailed information from very tiny observations. He was trying to be careful about gaining a similar reputation here; with excellence came danger, and L didn't want to put himself into that hot mess until he was certain he'd established a trustworthy and effective support network. Until then, the risks he took had to be limited to this sort of benign confrontation, with a criminal already caught and behind bars. L enjoyed the thrill of the chase more than most detectives, but he was under no illusions concerning his own slender, brittle frame and dependence on others even when he was at his brilliant best. Otherwise, losing himself completely was a very real and very frightening possibility. Sometimes he wondered if a part of him was lost, torn and bleeding and still hanging back in his own world, clinging to the case that would have killed him had he remained for just a few more seconds, waiting for the rest of him to return and accept his fate.

The Kira investigation might have undone him. It might have made him a little crazy. But he'd argue that no one would have been able to resist that infatuation... that no one would have been able to stay away from a situation that had stirred their boredom and made them remember what it was like to be a human being, and to think without immediately having an answer. Maybe L had been able to reach the conclusion about Kasai because he, too, had a broad self-destructive streak. Like Kansai's, it didn't define him, but it affected him and warped him from day to day. The sweets he practically inhaled, his insistence on staying up for nights on end, even his dedication to a case that could (and would) kill him... it was no accident that L knew the mindset so well.

L watched the man dispassionately as he rose in a way that looked painful. There was a disconnect, there; though L had caught many criminals and secured many tricky, difficult answers to elusive questions, empathy consistently evaded him. When he started to approach L, however, he reacted, turning away from the bars and putting himself out of arm's reach in one swift, smooth motion. He moved surprisingly deftly in reflexive situations, calling into question how much of his hunched posture and tentative, shuffling gait was genuine.

"I do want to talk about destruction," he confirmed, reaching behind his ear and placing one of the cigarettes between his sugar-sore teeth. "And I'm more than willing to make it worth your time, but understand that my tolerance for stupidity is still at an all-time low. So don't try anything to make me regret my visit, and I'll do the same." He took several steps toward the bars, stopping at a distance that was precisely just within Kasai's ability to reach with his fingertips, inhaling slightly as he lit the cigarette. He leaned in a bit, inviting Kasai to take it from between his lips.

[firebrands]

Now with enough space between them to prevent anybody from making a grab, Kasai leaned against the cell bars and eyed Rue, not quite glaring but not entirely impassive, either. He watched as the cigarette almost came within reach; he twitched when the kid put it in his own mouth and lit up, coming just close enough that he could reach out and take it. The smell of the smoke made his jaw tighten. If the kid didn't want stupidity, fine. Neither did Kasai. But he didn't have to be a dick about it.

"I'm not going to jerk you around or try to set you on fire," he said, his voice almost too controlled. "And there's not a lot I can do from in here to make you regret coming down here. So, yeah, do me the same favor and we'll get along fine." He still didn't reach out for the cigarette. He was either going to be handed it, or offered the other one. He'd seen that flick of a lighter and knew it was never going to come within reach, but nonetheless, he wondered if he'd be able to grab it. "You're curious about destruction? Hand me the cigarette and I'll answer any questions you've got while it's still burning."

Maybe it would be possible to make this kid regret coming down here. He seemed distant and unflappable, but there were probably things he could say - memories he could recollect, stories about things he'd done and seen done - that would send Rue on his merry way with enough nightmare fuel to keep him awake for weeks to come ... though he didn't really look like the sleeping type. Living for that long under the grip of a maniac like he had meant that Kasai had experiences most people wouldn't even consider real. Would they get to this kid? He'd probably never find out. That wasn't a period of his life he was altogether keen on talking to a stranger about.

Still, it was something to keep in mind, in case things started going south.

[dead_black_eyes]

Maybe it was the glowing orange tip of the cigarette in the relatively gloomy jail... but for the first time, there seemed to be a spark of life in L's cold, dark eyes. He was glad he'd come... he'd missed this, these little battles of will, the mind games that he'd delighted in engaging in with someone else, once...

He inhaled softly on the cigarette; he didn't smoke, and he wasn't used to the irritation that crept into his throat and lungs with the heat, but as long as he didn't take any deep drags, he wouldn't lose his cool and start hacking. He didn't intend to smoke the whole thing, after all.

"There are a few problems, with that request... I don't know that you won't grab my arm and snap me like a twig, or use the opportunity to draw me closer and take the lighter and the other cigarette, thus stripping me of my leverage. I don't bite," he said, not quite mocking the man, but that glint in his eyes was somewhere between playful and sinister. "Also, I don't touch cigarettes once they've been lit. I don't like my fingertips to smell of tobacco... you understand."

He drew just a bit closer, taking another small puff and exhaling through his nostrils, making sure to blow some of the smoke near Kasai's face.

[firebrands]

"I'm sure I do." Said the man whose fingers were permanently stained with the nicotine and whose clothes never smelled of anything but stale cigarette smoke. His eyes narrowed as the kid came closer, deliberately blowing the smoke at him. Every nicotine-deprived inch of him screamed to reach out and snag that cigarette, pride and appearances be damned; his grip on the bars tightened enough to turn his scarred knuckles white. It was an offer. He could take it. He could take it and this would all go so much more smoothly ...

But he stayed where he was. If it had been Katsuragi, he would have grabbed it from her without hesitation. He didn't really care about the way he came off to strangers, but there was something in this that left him feeling like he was being condescended to, and there were very, very few people left living he was willing to take that from.

"I appreciate you think I'm dangerous enough to break your arm through the bars," he said, "or that I'd be enough of a bastard to take what you have and leave you in the dark, but I like to brag. If you're so opposed to touching lit cigarettes, give me the other one." He held one hand just beyond the bars, opening it palm-up for Rue's next move.

Or maybe to snatch the cigarette anyway, hopefully smacking him upside the head in the process. There was only so much patience Kasai had for things like this, and he really, really wanted a smoke.

[dead_black_eyes]

Kasai was almost right.

L was arrogant, and he very often condescended to people even when he wasn't trying. But this went a bit beyond merely talking down to someone. The sum of the efforts was nothing less than measuring a man's worth by weighing and judging him at his worst.

L's gaze met Kasai's for a moment, steady and unwavering, seeming to stare through the other man rather than directly at him. Then, as if the search had satisfied him, he plucked the cigarette from between his teeth and offered it to Kasai, held delicately between two of his long, slender fingers.

He'd learned a lot about Kasai, in the last several minutes. Self-destructive, perhaps impulsive, but not ruled by his impulses. Proud, yes, of course... L was delighted, actually, though it registered in an oddly restrained fashion on his blank, pale face.

"You passed the test... I thought that there was a 50% chance you would, and I confess that I'd hoped for this outcome."

[firebrands]

A test? Who did this kid think he was? Kasai felt his irritation spike as he reached evenly to take the offered cigarette, surreptitiously wiping off the unlit end before taking a deep, satisfying drag. Almost immediately the tension eased and the frustration settled. A test wasn't that bad. After all, he spent most of his time banking on people underestimating him. He didn't much like proving himself to people, but to come off on even ground was ideal.

It took him a moment to respond to Rue, slowly breathing out the smoke. When he did, his posture was much more casual than before - no longer aggressively defensive, the slouch of a man quite sure of himself and where things were going to go. He was still on-guard, of course, but it was his usual, not-in-jail wariness.

"Only fifty percent? Should I be hurt?" He leaned against the bars again, putting his weight on his good leg. "Nice to see that we can both be amicable, anyway. What did you want to know?"

[dead_black_eyes]

L cocked his eyebrow, or at least, where his eyebrow would be if he had one.

"Hurt? No, there's no call for that. It just means that you're not as easy to read as some people, and I'm going to stay for awhile longer." Because of course L would have left, had Kasai just snatched the cigarette. He had nothing to learn from an animal and a slave to his urges.

With that decision made, L decided that it was time to make himself more comfortable. He pulled a seat up, still at a safe distance from the bars, perching on the balls of his feet and balancing himself by leaning forward and draping his long arms over the chair's back. He might have had a childish way of sitting, but L's attention and focus could hardly be categorized similarly.

"You can start like David Copperfield," he said quietly. "Tell me about your birth and your childhood, and work your way to the present. Or you can start like Ishmael... who you are, and what you've observed, the people who have shaped your perceptions recently as opposed to long ago. I really have no preference. But whatever method you choose, to tell me about Zenjirou Kasai... make sure that you answer the questions of why you are bored, and what would mend that undesirable circumstance."

He casually unwrapped a lollipop, tucking it inside his cheek, one side of his gaunt face puffing out like a chipmunk's.

[firebrands]

Not easy to read. Well, that was a plus. It went in line with being underestimated, so he wasn't going to take it as an insult. Kasai watched as Rue pulled up a chair and arranged himself strangely, then went back to that strange, soulless sort of stare that he seemed to have perfected. It was a little unnerving to have that kind of fixed attention focused on him and him alone. Rarely did people even regard him as a presence. On the other hand, that someone was here strictly to hear about him and his pyromaniacal tendencies was both somewhat flattering and a little off-putting - who knew what could be done with that information?

... at this point in his life, probably not much.

"Why am I bored." He focused on the questions, rather than launching into some long spiel about his life (not particularly traumatic) and observations (mostly unfavorable), and watched the smoke slowly rise and twist and fade into the air above him. "In short? Because I can't burn down whatever I want, whenever I want, in this city without jail time or vigilante justice coming down on my ass like a ton of bricks." Kasai tapped the ash off the end of the cigarette, grimacing at how it was already down by a good centimeter or two. "I think it's pretty obvious what would fix it. And that nobody's going to even think twice about it."

Some people had to keep the city standing, after all. Even back in Tokyo they were always moving to put out fires and rebuild buildings faster than he could take them down - and that was a place where he never once had to consider jail as a potential prospect.

[dead_black_eyes]

Though it could be difficult to draw the line between L's insults and his complimentary remarks (indeed, they often blurred together into one confusing statement), he himself was underestimated far too often to ever consider the ability to conceal one's true nature a minus. It turned narratives into puzzles and claims into challenges, which he approved of. He continued to watch Kansai, unblinking, his lips, tongue and teeth moving to accommodate the lollipop in his mouth in direct contrast to the motionless set of his round eyes.

Kasai didn't need to know, but he'd passed the second test, bypassing L's more narcissistic suggestions and just answering the questions. He was to-the-point; L liked that. It was also the path of least resistance, but Kasai had already proven that he wasn't one to seize opportunities for that reason. Though Kasai's gaze wandered, L's remained rigid.

"I think there are two things that would fix it," L said, when Kasai seemed to reach a natural pause. "And I wonder if either really would... excellence and excess are both prone to monotony, you know. I think that if you were given unlimited things to burn, even if it became your job, you would grow bored of it, if only because you had been granted permission. Every fire would start to look the same. There would be no risk-factor, and no possibility that you might have to run to avoid capture. The other option is to execute you... which would be like..." he considers for a moment. "It would be like fixing the problem of a dog with fleas by drowning the dog."

[firebrands]

While Rue spoke, Kasai was quiet, almost thoughtful, but at the dog metaphor he snorted with laughter. It sounded like something he would say, and it was oddly favorable toward him, comparison to a dog excepted. He took another drag on the cigarette and blew the smoke out into the hall beyond the cell.

"To be honest, it was my job, for a while. Still illegal, but it's what I got paid to do." For the moment he would neatly avoid any and all mentions of the genocidal terrorist who'd been signing those paychecks. "But you've got a point. If it was legal, the appeal wouldn't be there - so I wouldn't ask for it to be legal." Now he fixed Rue with a careful, calculating look. This guy was good at thinking in underhanded ways, or so it seemed; how far did that go? "Here, I don't have the resources I used to, so that's another thing that keeps me down - but not the idea of execution. They wouldn't bother with that here, death obsession be damned."

Oh, no. They wouldn't execute him, not even if he wound up killing people with his actions. If he stayed in Death City and didn't go running off to the Witches, they wouldn't kill him - they'd find a way around that. The memories were patchy and faded, but he remembered his first stay in this place, and he remembered that the one killer they did manage to apprehend - with his help, at that - hadn't been killed for his pains.

Given the options available, execution might be a step up.