(Untitled)

[l_shrugged]

The leaning tower of cinna-stix receives the brunt of his agitation, collapsing under the power of a well-placed flick and fanning cinnamon every-which-way. The grouchiness is isolated to the corner of the room where our head detective's set up camp with the spread-eagled notebook, re-scanning the rule. And lingering on the Thirteen Day Rule. At

Comments

[my_god_complex]

It's not necessary. Light, while appearing to engage in the harmless chat going on between the men, has had his full attention on L's corpse-like hands mishandling the notebook, picking over it like he's going to find something of a ray of light--something that reveals all of Kira's secrets.

Keep looking, L.

"Did you find anything?"

Beckoning him.

L, he is not chained to your wrist anymore. Passive disrespect is a very bad idea, right now. Especially with the circumstances grating on Light's nerves the way they are.

[l_shrugged]

He's noticed that, too.

While it's nerve-wracking when his suspect may freely leave his sights, it's equally burdensome when he has not, for those eyes are keener, and he often feels their gaze. It's especially frustrating because it cements his certaintude, were it not for the fact that the notebook's rules explicitly testify to his innocence. It would seem as though L's the only one who notices the chill of his smiles or the strain in the crinkling of his surprisingly warm eyes.

"No," he admits candidly, rather unceremoniously dropping the fluttering book into a heap, which promptly shuts to preserve its binding. Distractedly, he picks at the fallen cinna-pieces. "Light-kun, would you mind staying after the team has left? I'd like to run a question by you. I believe I already know the answer, but if you could reconfirm it, I'd be more confident in how we should proceed."

[my_god_complex]

He... drops it.

Light maintains composure, as though that is not a notebook that, quite literally, holds the power of a god within its pages.

"I can't imagine what you would have to ask me that would be inappropriate to ask in front of my father."

Smooth, and L can answer that as retribution for abusing the notebook that way.

[l_shrugged]

Dark pupils flit to Light out of the corner of his eyes, because he knows that protest was voiced only to bring L's entirely innocent request to the attention of --

"L, Light is right. If there's something you wish to ask my son, I'll hear it, too."

The grumping detective decides to restack the tower if only so that he can crush it again, eyes lowered and appearing ready to admit that it does have something to do with that theory they've come to despise. The sets of eyes almost give reality to his hunch.

"... It's my birthday," he finally admits, deliberately allowing it to sound carefully worded.

The response is appallingly empty, enough that he thinks they may actually be more intelligent than he credits them, and then Matsuda offers an unsteady 'Happy Birthday' wish. Other voices follow, awkwardly, attempting good humor, and clearly rethinking their pressuring of the admittance. In their eyes, he is an eccentric genius with such flimsy social skills that he must request his only friend's company through work means.

[my_god_complex]

Eyes narrow for the smallest of seconds, too brief for anyone to notice, just long enough to satisfy Light's annoyance.

"Do you feel safer divulging details with the notebook in your possession, Ryuuzaki?"

Always the thoughtful one.

"The truth remains that any one of us could be Kira. Knowing your birthday is one step closer to your real name--which is why I don't believe you. But in case I'm mistaken, Happy Birthday. Would you like a cake? I can call Misa to pick one up."

His father looks downright suspicious. As well he should. That was a weak lie, and L's way of jabbing at Light for calling him out in front of the men.