Chapter Text
The move into the facility was swift and blurry, leaving Light dizzy. The rest of the day was to be spent settling in before resuming the investigation tomorrow. L informed her that everything she needed was already there, and should she want anything else, she need only ask. Money was no object for the genius detective. Light thought wistfully about her shampoo, her conditioner, her skincare routine. The hotel soap she’d used the day before made her skin dry and her hair dull. She was in desperate need of pampering herself, of scrubbing away the last fifty days until her skin was clean and raw.
Their floor had no cameras, and the elevator opened to reveal a short hallway and a grand set of double doors at the end. Light found herself dragging her feet. Together twenty-four-seven. The news came moments after her father fired a blank at her skull, when she was still pressed against the back seat and drenched in sweat. But she was alive, and she would be kept alive, so long as she was with L. At that moment, it was the best news she’d ever received– a real, classic second chance.
Now, however, as she matched L’s pace and the chain dragged and clinked on the marble floor beneath them, the realization that she was practically still a prisoner had begun to set in. Light’s heart pounded as if L were taking her to be executed for real this time. Something stirred in her stomach. The back of her neck pricked with sweat.
But she was alive, and that had to be enough.
L opened one of the doors and didn't hold it for Light. She led her through a nice sitting room, almost exactly like every other sitting room in every hotel they’d been in before, and to another set of double doors. The bedroom on the other side was huge and modestly furnished, like an expensive hotel suite. It was lit by warm lamplight and slivers of the sunset from between the gaps in the drawn curtains. By all accounts, it was a nice room, especially considering the wretched little cell she’d just come from. But Light’s mouth went dry as she surveyed the room, her eyes landing on the single, huge bed directly across from them.
“Ryuzaki,” Light said stiffly.
L picked up on her discomfort instantly. Of course she did. “Hm?”
“What is this?” she asked, flexing her hands, digging her nails into her palms.
“Our bedroom.” L had her hands in her pockets as she regarded Light curiously.
Light twitched. Our bedroom. Their bedroom.
“What is it, Light?” L asked. “Are our accommodations not to your liking?”
“Uh, not really,” Light sputtered. “I didn’t realize we’d be…” Her voice died in her throat. She didn’t want to start something. She was trying so hard to be agreeable that she was getting a headache. She gestured to the bed with a huff.
“Oh, did I neglect to mention that?” L tapped her chin. “I assumed you’d have figured that out yourself.”
This was all kinds of wrong. She couldn’t–shouldn’t– be sharing a bed with the detective who had been relentlessly investigating her. Light couldn’t pinpoint the root of the feeling, the tightening of her stomach, this nervous, restless energy. It simmered beneath her skin.
L considered her with blank eyes. “You’re not keen on this.”
“And you are?” Light sucked in through her teeth. “This is perverted.”
L’s hands were in her pockets. She cocked her head, crow-like. “Is it?”
“Yes,” Light said tightly. “Aren’t I your prime suspect? You’d share a bed with Kira?”
L’s eyes sparkled. “Is that a confession?”
“No!” Light blurted, before snapping her mouth shut. She drew a tight breath. “No,” she repeated, calmer. “You know what I mean.”
L shrugged. “Well, it’s the biggest mattress I could find. You won’t even notice.”
“Oh, won’t I?” Light’s voice dripped with indignation as she held up her shackled wrist.
“Hm.” L’s eyes flitted to the ceiling as if in contemplation. “Well, maybe at first.”
Light’s face was too hot. Even in the low, warm light of the expansive bedroom, her face was visibly red. Her eyes darted around the room.
“I think that you’re making this a bigger deal than it has to be.” L’s lips twitched with the ghost of amusement. “It’ll be just like… oh, what’s that thing that girls do…?”
Light pinched her eyebrows together.
“You know, with the pillow fights and the makeovers and–”
Light scoffed, interrupting her. “What, a slumber party?”
L nodded. “Yes, that. It’ll be just like a slumber party. Though,” L picked at her lip. “You might be doing most of the slumbering, though. I’m not very good at that.”
“It’ll be nothing like a slumber party,” Light said sharply. Defensively.
L hummed. “You’re probably right. I wouldn’t know.”
“Shocking,” Light said through gritted teeth.
L ignored her. “I imagine we’ll be skipping the part with the pillow-fights and the make overs,” she said wistfully.
Light dragged a hand down her face and groaned. She was being good. She was being docile. She was submitting. She wasn’t giving L any more reason to suspect her, which meant keeping her temper in check– the temper she had never struggled with until crossing paths with the bug-eyed flat-voiced detective she was currently handcuffed to.
“Honestly, I didn’t expect this reaction from you. I didn’t know you were so shy.” L was picking her apart with genuine curiosity.
“I’m not–!” Her voice came out louder than she meant it. She snapped her mouth shut. Composed herself. “I’m not shy.”
“Hm. Prudish, then?” L almost sounded like she was about to laugh.
“Stop it.”
L shook her head. “I don’t see what the problem is. This isn’t a good look, you know. I might be forced to raise your–”
L was fucking with her. She knew that, quelling the urge to lunge at L at what she knew she was about to suggest. “No, the problem is that this is perverted.”
“Yes, you said that.” She turns and makes her way to the bedside table on the left side of the bed, dragging Light along with her. “Oh. I’ve already picked a side of the bed. I hope you don’t mind. It makes the most sense, considering the cuff is on my right hand and your left hand.”
Light grinded her molars. Well. That left her with the right side of the bed. She wouldn’t give L the satisfaction of letting her know that it was her preferred side, anyway. And it really was a massive bed. Aside from the cuff, she wouldn’t notice L next to her– that is, if she even slept. Secretly, Light hoped that she didn’t, that the continuous and concerning stream of caffeine she ingested and long hours in front of her screens had permanently fried the part of her brain that demanded sleep. She imagined L hunched over the blue screen in the dark beside her and resisted a grimace. The light combined with L’s typing, muttering, and biting would surely keep her awake. A fresh wave of dismay crashed over her.
“Speaking of the cuff,” L muttered, crouching to the bottom drawer of the table and fishing through it. Light crossed her arms and made a point not to look anywhere near L’s hunched form as she heard a combination lock being turned too many times. “Before you get any ideas,” L said, reading Light’s mind. “There’s a retinal scanner in here as well.”
Light rolled her eyes. “I don’t even know what you’re doing.”
L stood up with a little silver key between her thumb and forefinger, and it took intense mental fortitude not to snatch it from her hand immediately. No, Light had agreed to this. She hadn’t fought. She was being good.
“Obviously it would be rather difficult to undress like this.”
Light twitched. L hadn’t expected her to act like this– shy and prudish. Words Light Yagami would have never used to describe herself. Beneath the swirling tempest of frustration and complicated emotions, the fact that she’d managed to defy L’s infuriating expectations brought her some satisfaction. L wasn’t as omnipotent as she fancied herself. It made Light feel marginally better. Or at least, she tried to convince herself it did.
L unlocked her cuff and latched it around one of the belt loops on her baggy jeans. Light made a strangled sound.
The corner of L’s mouth twitched and her bottomless gaze bore into Light. She blinked like she had made up her mind about something.
“What?” Light crossed her arms.
“Hm?”
Irritation spiked in Light’s chest. She jutted her chin. “Tell me what you’re thinking.”
L locked the cuff around her wrist again. “You’re acting very tense right now.”
Light scoffed and L watched the gears in her head turn as she tried to come up with a sharp response. L decided against trying to interrupt her.
“Yeah, well.” Light reached for an excuse, an explanation. “It’s been a tense few weeks.” Her voice sounded very small, less a defense and more a confession. Her arms tightened around herself and she couldn’t meet L’s eyes.
She looked tired, L realized then. For a moment, she almost seemed to believe that Light Yagami wasn’t putting on an act. It had been a tense few weeks for everyone, but for Light especially– isolated and miserable, wallowing in her own emotional filth. And L had borne witness to nearly every second of it.
L sighed, long and loud. “Yes,” she said. “It has.”
Light’s gaze flicked up to meet L’s. A flicker of understanding flashed between them.
Then L lolled her head back and closed her eyes. She sighed again. “Okay, please don’t give me too much of a hard time about this next part.”
Light narrowed her eyes. “What next part?”
“Feel free to call me a pervert again.” She lifted her head. “Sticks and stones, as they say.”
Light shifted on her feet and glanced around the room. The bed. Sliding double mirror doors– the closet. Their closet. Light was fine with that. She imagined L only had two or three sets of the exact same white shirt and baggy jeans already in there. The bathroom door. Oh. “L, come on.”
“Ryuzaki,” L chided.
Light clenched her jaw. L rubbed the back of her neck and wordlessly padded towards the bathroom. Light stood paralyzed, anchored to the flood until the cuff dug into her wrist and she was tugged forward.
L glanced back at her. “I hope you’re not going to make it a habit of forcing me to drag you around.”
Light was gritting her teeth so hard that her jaw ached. Her head throbbed behind her eyes.
L swung the door open to reveal a large bathroom, equipped with the biggest shower that Light had ever seen. A mirror covered most of the adjacent wall over the two sinks and Light struggled to meet her own eyes. She looked as bad as she felt. Her hair was limp and her bangs were falling over her eyes. She carded her fingers through oily strands and wrinkled her nose in displeasure. Her lips were dry and colorless and her cheeks were mortifyingly flushed. She met L’s eyes in the mirror and scowled. L looked at her expectantly, almost goading. Light looked at the shower, at herself, at L, at the shower again.
Unable to face her own reflection any longer, she turned to L. “What, so you want to shower together too?”
“You’re purposefully misunderstanding the purpose of this arrangement.” L pulled at her lip. “It’s not that I want to shower together. But that was the agreement.”
“No, this was not the agreement.” Light shifted on her feet, stamping her foot like a petulant child. “I didn’t–” She didn’t know what to expect. Yes, she’d agreed. Obviously she’d agreed. “I didn’t know you were such a–”
“Wait, let me guess.” L held up her hands. “Pervert? That’s three times you’ve called me that now. Surely you can be more creative than that.”
Light wanted to cry. She wanted to scream. She wanted to hit L.
But she had agreed to this. She didn’t know all the terms and conditions, but she had agreed– enthusiastically so.
She knew she was deflecting by taking it out entirely on L. She knew L wasn’t doing this because she was actually some kind of pervert who wanted to watch her sleep and shower.
“Weren’t you an athlete once? Is this so different from the locker room?” L asked. There was no bite to the question, no teasing lilt. She sounded truly curious.
But what L didn’t know was that Light hated the locker rooms too. Something about it, the vulnerability, the closeness– it bothered her. And it bothered her that no one else ever seemed as bothered as she was. It was so casual, so innocent, but she hated it. In school, they wore their gym clothes under their uniforms, which she was always grateful for. But when she’d played tennis, it had been a traditional locker room experience, and she hated it.
It was a hygiene thing, she convinced herself back then. She was uncomfortable by the varying levels of cleanliness that locker rooms offered.
Standing in the huge, spotless bathroom she was meant to share with L, that was not the case.
“It’s different when it’s only two people,” Light said through her teeth.
L was getting impatient. “We’re both girls, are we not? We don’t know how long the investigation is going to take. You’ll need to get over this eventually.” L lolled her head to the side. “Soon, preferably. It’s kind of exhausting.”
Light couldn’t stop the scoff that escaped her, even though she knew L was right. It was exhausting. She was exhausted, and fighting it wasn’t going to change anything. She pushed her hands through her hair, tugging at the roots until it hurt, squeezing her eyes shut. The heels of her hands pressed against her temples and she drew a slow inhale. She released the pressure on her head with an exhale, combing her fingers through tangles and knots. She felt so unclean.
“Okay,” Light said, defeated. “Fine. Whatever.”
L blinked, and Light felt that same fleeting flutter of satisfaction for taking her by surprise.
“Thank you, Light.” L sounded genuine.
It made Light squirm. “Yeah, well.” She rubbed the back of her neck and glanced longingly at the enormous shower. Behind the glass door, her products were already aligned neatly on the shelves. She imagined the smell of her shampoo. “I just need a shower.”
L nodded and drummed her fingers on her chin. “I’ll tell you what. Just this once–and, I’ll still be in here–but just this once, you can have the shower to yourself.”
Light’s eyes widened, briefly meeting L’s.
“Consider this an olive branch.” L rolled her eyes. “I did say we were working together, after all.”
Light gave a breathy laugh of disbelief. She couldn’t suppress her grin.
There was no doubting Light’s genius and how important she would be to the investigation–this small compromise wouldn’t hurt. And L would be lying if she didn’t find Light’s bewildered smile charming. There was a sickeningly earnest glimmer in her wide brown eyes that crawled under L’s skin and made it hard to believe this was the same girl she suspected of being a serial mass murderer.
“Thank you, Ryuzaki,” Light said, beaming.
L couldn’t hold Light’s uncomfortably innocent gaze. She cleared her throat. “Don’t expect this again.”
“I won’t.” Light shook her head. “Thank you.”
Distantly, Light felt like a suck-up. Pathetic. Something inside her recoiled in disgust at her complacency, her submission. What was wrong with her?
Lingering animosity towards L because of her imprisonment, she reasoned. As if it hadn’t been her idea in the first place. This recurring resentment towards L was doing her no good.
Light wordlessly tugged L back to the bedroom for a change of clothes. Their bedroom. Her stomach turned as she familiarized herself with the drawers of the large dresser they shared.
The first drawer she opened was not hers, Light noticed immediately, as she was greeted with neatly folded rows of boxer briefs. She swallowed hard and shut it with more force than she meant to. Of course the first one she opened would be L’s underwear drawer. Light’s face was hot as she picked through her own things.
If L noticed the tremor in Light’s hands–and she certainly did, Light was sure–she didn’t say anything.
“Who packed my clothes?” Light asked, to break the silence. She carefully picked through her pajamas, her cute, satiny two-piece sets looking almost obscenely juvenile. She ran a hand over the smooth garments almost reverently. The dry skin of her palms caught against the fabric and she grimaced.
“Your sister, I believe,” L replied. “For your semester abroad.”
Light swallowed a groan. Yes, of course her sister would pack only her stupidest and girliest pajamas, especially if she thought she was going abroad. A mixture of fondness and irritation at the gesture simmered under her skin.
“Are you unhappy with your options? I suppose it isn’t entirely fair that you had no say in your wardrobe.”
Light recalled L saying that if there were anything else she wanted, she need only to ask, and Watari would handle it. And as tempting as the idea was to treat herself to new clothes, she got the sense L was making fun of her.
“No, it’s alright. They’re my clothes.” Light wasn’t going to admit defeat to something so menial. “She just… definitely packed for someone going abroad.” She closed the drawers and stood straight, clean clothes in her arms.
L gave her a quizzical look. “And… what might someone going abroad pack?”
Light imagined Sayu packing her things, giggling with self satisfaction, mind probably racing with all the possibilities, all the romantic prospects her older sister would have in another country. Right. Sayu was probably a little jealous, sighing wistfully as she imagined all the foreign boys Light would encounter. As if Light would ever have time for that. “I’m surprised you haven’t gone through my things already, if you’re asking me that,” Light said with an unintentional sneer.
L sighed. “I did go through your things. Well– hardly.” L picked her bottom lip. “Watari did. I supervised.”
As if it were possible for Light to feel anymore violated. “Right. Of course you did,” she said tightly.
L just shrugged. “You didn’t answer my question.”
Light rolled her eyes. “Like… cute things. I don’t know. Things you want other people to see.”
“Like who?”
“Like boys,” Light said, disgusted. “I don’t know. That’s stuff Sayu thinks about. Probably hoping I come back with an exotic boyfriend, or something.”
L slid her thumb between her teeth and top lip. “She thinks you want boys… seeing your pajamas?” she asked as if the innuendo completely slipped over her head.
Light narrowed her eyes. “Stop it.”
“Do you?”
“No,” Light said sharply.
L blinked at her with owlish eyes. The corner of her mouth curled upwards.
“I mean,” Light said quickly. “Eventually. Probably.” She shook her head. “Not like, right now at this moment.”
L regarded her curiously, to Light’s increased irritation.
“Stop it,” Light said again, turning on her heel.
L let Light tug her back to the bathroom. L produced the key from her jeans pocket and did not unlock the cuff until the last possible moment, waiting until Light started the water and laid her clothes on the counter. Light wondered if she regretted the offer and didn’t shy away from L’s bottomless stare as she finally unfastened the handcuff from her wrist.
For a moment they both stood there, still. Light rubbed her wrist. The wide mirror had already started gathering condensation.
L looked at her expectantly. “Well?”
“Um.” Light fiddled with the bottom of her shirt. “Can you, maybe, turn around?” She felt her face warm– the bathroom was getting hot. “Please?”
L cocked her head. “Can I? Yes, I suppose I could turn around if I wanted. But I’d still be able to see you in the mirror if I did.”
Light made a helpless sound somewhere between a scoff and a whine, which L ignored.
“I’m already acting against my better judgement, Light, because I’m aware of how much of an adjustment this must be for you,” L said, and sighed heavily. “There’s a thirty-seven percent chance of you running out that door right now. Which brings the likelihood of you being Kira to–”
“Okay, okay,” Light said with a groan. “Point taken.” She stood with her back to L and pulled her shirt over her head. She willed herself to believe that the bathroom was empty, that there was no messy-haired and gray-eyed detective watching her undress.
Light immediately felt better after stepping under the borderline scalding spray of the enormous showerhead. Closing her eyes and tilting her head back, she sighed. She could almost forget about L sitting like a gargoyle on the sink, her hair an inky black stain in her peripheral vision.
She hummed to herself as she massaged shampoo onto her scalp, filling the shower with the refreshing, clean scent of cucumber and mint. She washed her hair twice for good measure as her mind wandered, drifting to blissful blankness.
She scooped globs of a fresh-smelling sugar scrub into her hands and relished in the harshness as she rubbed it onto her skin. She scraped her nails over her arms and frowned at the dead, almost gray skin that built up beneath them, and continued exfoliating until her skin was pink and striped with angry, red lines.
Propping her leg up on the tile seat against the wall, she realized that she had never gone more than a few days without shaving. She curled her lip in disgust at the light brown hair on her shins and glanced around the shower, breathing a sigh of relief when she found a razor on the wall. It surprised her that L would allow something that could potentially be used as a weapon to remain in the shower.
Well. She supposed Kira would never resort to something so barbaric, even if she were chained to her mortal enemy. Killing someone with a woman's razor? Too messy, far too much physical effort. It wasn’t her style.
She lathered her leg with shaving cream and glided the razor up her shin.
Besides, if Kira were to kill L in this situation, she would surely try and make it look like an accident. Suppose killing her in the shower would be the way to go, if she really wanted. L would be most vulnerable here. She could slip. Crack her head open on the shower floor.
Still, she doubted Kira would ever risk something like that. She was too calculated.
A sharp stinging shot up her leg– she’d cut her knee. She sucked in through her teeth as blood bloomed and ran down her shin, bright and scarlet. She swiped it with her hand, smearing blood on her palm, and tried to ignore it as she continued guiding the razor over her skin.
Blood dripped on the tile floor of the shower. She winced and stood straight, letting the water wash over the cut. It stung. She watched the blood turn pink as it swirled down the drain– so much for such a small cut. How humiliating.
Light couldn’t keep herself from wondering how much a bigger wound would bleed, if it would stain the whole floor of the wide shower deep red, if it would seep into the spackle of the tile, how it would look contrasted against long, black hair fawned around a certain someone’s pale face.
Her stomach flipped at the image her mind had conjured. She shook her head as if to physically expel the thought. What the hell was wrong with her?
L never subscribed to the idea that Kira would ever be unconscious of her actions. Light knew it was a far fetched theory, anyway. But she had offered herself up for confinement for a reason– even if she was having trouble remembering it. L was so convinced that it was her. Had lied to her when the killings began, asked her everyday if she was ready to confess.
Light had never been particularly sensitive, had never been prone to tears. But during her imprisonment she had cried, head ducked between her knees, shoulders aching. She wondered if L ever noticed her tears, or if the microphone on the surveillance camera was sensitive enough to pick up her almost silent sobs.
The degrading feeling crept up her throat and made her eyes prick as she worked the razor over her other leg, gentler this time. She’d willingly debased herself, and for what? L still suspected her. She claimed Light was in the gray, knew that there was no substantial evidence against her, but Light knew. She saw it in her eyes, the way she studied her, constantly waiting for her to slip up, to reveal something. Light blinked, unable to stop tears from rolling down her cheeks. Her headache was back. Her knee stung and she glanced down– still bleeding.
Outside of the shower, L observed Light’s foggy figure through the glass. The steam was starting to make her sweat and she rolled her sleeves up her forearms. Her thumbnail was bitten ragged, so she resorted to running her thumb between her lip and her teeth. The handcuff chain hung over the sink, the cuff lying discarded on the floor. She tried to convince herself she hadn’t made a lapse in judgement letting Light shower alone.
Realistically, she knew Kira would never stoop to such a level. It would be the ultimate admission of guilt, and even Light, in all her genius, wouldn’t be able to get out of that. She was probably the safest she’d ever been, if Light really was Kira.
Uncertainty buzzed like flies in her head. She knew she wasn’t wrong, not entirely. But the girl in the bathroom right now had technically, by all accounts, proved her innocence, leaving L more stumped than when she’d started the investigation.
By the time Light emerged from the shower, she was pink and pruned and her knee was still bleeding. L noticed immediately, forehead scrunching at the thin, crimson stream of blood that rolled down her smooth shin.
“You’re bleeding,” L said.
Light frowned and tightened the soft white towel she wrapped around herself. “I cut myself shaving.”
“I see. Hmm. I’m sure there are bandages in here somewhere.”
When L made no motion to move, Light scoffed. “Well, where are they? I don’t want to bleed on the floor.”
“Are you asking me to find them for you?” L cocked her head.
Light’s eyebrows steepled and she looked concerningly pathetic. “Ryuzaki,” she said, pleading. She held out her wrist. “You can cuff me first, if you want.”
L hopped off the sink and obliged, snapping the handcuff around Light’s wrist. Her hair was dripping down her chest and back and onto the little rug with quiet pats. She was bleeding down to her foot now. L sighed and moved to sift through the drawers under the sink for bandages.
Light hugged her arms around herself awkwardly. The cold steel bit into her wrist– L would have to take the damn thing off again in a moment so she could get dressed. The back of L’s shirt was dampened with sweat from the stiflingly warm and misty room.
L made a soft “Ah-ha,” and stood straight, a red first aid box in her hand. She glanced over her shoulder at Light, squinting down at the abrasion on her leg before procuring a bandage and some wipes from the box.
Light held out her hand to take them from her, but L didn’t give them to her. Instead, she crouched down to her knees and tore open the wipe. Light choked on her breath and dropped her hands, flattening the towel against her thighs.
“What the hell are you doing?” she hissed, the words lacking the venom she intended. “Get off me.”
L looked up at her with wide, steely eyes as she too-slowly dragged the wipe up Light’s leg, soaking up the blood as she went. “You were about to bleed on the floor.”
“That’s– why are you–” she stuttered. She was practically gasping for air. “Stop it.”
L ducked her head, turning her attention to covering the cut now that the blood had been cleaned. She pressed the bandage to Light’s knee and smoothed the sticky edges with her thumbs, sending a violent shiver down Light’s back. The sight of L like this, tender, on her knees in front of her– she felt dizzy, every neuron in her brain firing rapidly and completely frying her ability to think.
“How about, ‘thank you’?” L said, voice unreadable as she stood straight, too close to Light.
Sweat beaded on Light’s forehead. “I didn’t ask you– you didn’t have to do that,” she said through her teeth.
“No need to be ungrateful,” L said, huffing.
Light wanted to roll her eyes, but her brain had kicked her into manual-breathing-mode at the moment, leaving her with limited sass capabilities. “Thank you.” Her jaw ached.
L almost smiled.
“Can I get dressed now?” Light asked. Her mouth was too dry. She held her wrist out again.
“Yes.” L glanced at the handcuff, then back up and Light. “Oh. I guess that was a bit preemptive, wasn’t it?”
Light swallowed thickly and nodded. L loosened the cuff and Light shuffled over to her clothes. Her stupid, girly pajamas– a dark red satin tank top and matching shorts. She cursed Sayu for packing them and she cursed herself for buying them.
She pushed her fingers through her wet hair. Her heart thudded. Light still didn’t see how watching her change contributed to the investigation. Fucking voyeur. She ended up with no choice but to just bite the bullet and drop her towel, throwing her clothes on as fast as humanly possible.
She panicked immediately over whether or not to put her bra back on. The material of the pajamas was thin and offered no support, but she’d be going to bed soon, anyway. If she put one on now, she’d have to take it off before going to bed, which meant making L take the handcuff off again. She opted out of wearing it.
She had stood still for so long with her top bunched up in her hands that L noticed. “Are you alright?”
Light’s face burned and she finished dressing herself. She took a deep breath and rolled her shoulders back. Pushed her hair out of her face. “Yes.” She offered her wrist to L again, who snapped the cuff back on.
She had more self confidence than this, she reminded herself. They weren’t even extraordinarily indecent pajamas. The shorts were modest enough– they covered her ass and showed off her long and newly smooth legs. Her breasts sat nicely under the top, not too revealing, just enough to show that puberty had been kind to her and her figure. She was pretty. She knew that. Dark red was a good color on her, if she pretended it didn’t bring out the embarrassing pink tint of her face right now.
She felt L’s eyes on her and wondered what she was thinking, if L even saw her as anything more than a suspect. Did she think she was pretty? Light knew she was. Surely L knew that too. The notion made Light grimace– for all her accusations and biting words, she didn’t actually want L to be a voyeuristic pervert. She didn’t want L to look at her at all. She didn’t know why she cared at all. It wasn’t like it mattered what she wanted anymore.
She busied herself with her post-shower regimen. She brushed her hair and washed her face with her expensive skincare products. She pretended L wasn’t in there with her, perched back on the sink, hunched over and watching her with prying eyes.
If L hadn’t already surveilled Light and her extensive hygiene routine, she’d be baffled by just how long she was taking. But even though she was intimately familiar with Light’s habits at this point, she was starting to get antsy. Light was such a girl, L noticed, not for the first time. It was clear how much pride she took in her appearance.
L could see it on her face how much better she was feeling already. Her posture was relaxed and she wasn't clenching her jaw so much. She was, however, very deliberately not looking over at L, to the point where L could tell how much willpower it was taking for her to pretend that she was alone in the bathroom.
When Light procured a pair of tweezers from who-knows-where and began plucking at her eyebrows, L started to get actually annoyed.
“Are you almost done? It’s late.” L’s voice was a low, droning almost-whine.
Light tensed and glared at her. “I thought you didn’t sleep.”
“I’ve been known to, on occasion,” L said. “Aren’t you tired?”
“Kind of.” Light’s face was very close to the mirror and she had a hand braced on the sink while she continued to pluck her eyebrows with precision that made L weirdly uncomfortable.
“I thought you’d be more excited to sleep in a real bed tonight.”
“I slept in a real bed last night,” Light said pointedly. “Alone.”
Light was lying– she hadn’t slept. She’d tried to, of course– it was her first night out of her cell and away from the tiny, wire framed cot they had her sleeping on. She was exhausted, and expected to fall asleep as soon as her head hit the pillow.
But that did not happen. She spent the previous night restless and uncomfortable and anxious. Her mind wouldn’t stop racing– still hadn’t stopped racing, actually. She really was tired tonight, but she wasn’t finished. She had to make sure she looked like herself again. She had to feel like herself again.
She started working on her other eyebrow.
“Are you almost done?” L asked again with a sigh that made her sound like an impatient child.
“Can you shut up?” Light snapped.
L blinked and gave her an incredulous look.
Light’s mouth hung open, taken aback by her own harshness. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it like that.”
“I’m not sure there’s any other meaning to telling someone to shut up,” L said, frowning.
Light shook her head, turning to face L completely. She wore an apologetic expression that made her look like a guilty puppy. “No, I didn’t mean to tell you to shut up.”
L felt inclined to believe her. Light was getting very good at making her feel that way, but she refused to fall for it. Not this time. “It’s alright, Light. I’ll stop bothering you.”
Light groaned. “Stop that. I’m almost done.” She inspected her face in the mirror once more, satisfied with the shape of her eyebrows.
L leaned her cheek on her knee as she watched Light continue to fuss with her face, bored out of her mind and far too understimulated. Light was so uncomfortable with her staring, she could tell.
“I didn’t sleep well last night,” Light confessed, after a few minutes. She hadn’t wanted to admit that to L, but she felt guilty for snapping at her. She had an excuse. A defense. Would Kira immediately feel remorseful like she did right now? Probably not.
“All the more reason to hurry up and go to bed,” L said with exaggerated urgency.
“I know.” Light sighed. She started to straighten up the sink, reorganizing her products to line neatly along the mirror. “I know, I’m sorry.”
“Hmm.” L pushed herself off the counter and onto the cold tile. “I suppose I can forgive you.”
Light glared at her, but her eyes gleamed with a hint of amusement. “How gracious of you.” Her hair was still damp, but she didn’t want to continue pushing L’s patience.
They shuffled into their shared room awkwardly, Light trying to match L’s pace so as not to be dragged around again.
They stood at the foot of the bed and Light wrapped her arms around herself, over her chest. There was a digital clock on both of their nightstands. 12 a.m. When did it get so late?
“What are you waiting for?” L stood with her hands in her pockets.
“Are you not…” Light started, lip twitching. “Also going to bed?”
“Not going to bed, per say– it's a bit early for me.” L shrugged. “I’ll be in bed. Just on my laptop.”
Light frowned.
“Oh, don’t worry, I'll be quiet.” L stepped onto the bed, padding across the plush, neat comforter, making Light wince. She was literally always barefoot, and now she was stepping all over my bed. Light had to bite her tongue.
The chain tugged against her wrist and Light had no choice but to follow, flipping off her lamp and pulling back the covers and sliding under the smooth, silky sheets. She almost moaned out loud. The chain jingled and rustled against the sheets as she settled, and L pulled her laptop from the bedside table. She switched off her own lamp, casting herself in a blue glow.
Light found it nauseating. She rolled over to face the wall, as far to the edge of the bed as she could get.
“Light,” L said casually.
“Huh?” She lifted her head and twisted her neck to glance back at L.
“You’re going to fall off the bed.” There was an airy almost-chuckle in her voice.
Light put her head back down and stared at the wall. “No I’m not.”
“You’re not a very still sleeper. You’re going to–”
Light jerked back to look at L with a withering glare. “What?”
L was looking at her computer. The corner of her lip twinged up. “You’re not a very still sleeper. You’re going to roll off the bed in your sleep.”
Light scoffed. “You’re such a perv.” In the darkness of the bedroom, her cheeks colored. She was grateful L couldn’t see her.
L didn’t reply, just glanced over at her with the tiniest hint of a self-satisfied smile. Light huffed, but scooted over. There was still plenty of distance between them, she thought. Maybe it could be like a slumber party.
The soft tapping of L’s keyboard lulled Light to a dreamless sleep.
The clinking of the handcuff made her stir, heavy eyelids fluttering. She had rolled onto her other side, where light from L’s laptop cast her side of the bed in low, blue light. She glanced at the clock: 4 a.m.
L was crouched by the bedside table, her mess of black hair visible over the edge of the bed. She was being very quiet, Light noticed, gently closing the drawers and standing up straight. She unbuttoned her jeans. Light should have rolled over, should have closed her eyes, as L kicked them off her long, sickly pale legs. Light watched in muted, disgusting fascination as L, standing in her boxers, took off her shirt, pulling it over her head like a boy. She wasn’t wearing anything underneath, giving Light a horrifyingly perfect view of her bare chest in the dull light of the screen.
For a terrifying moment, Light thought she was about to get into bed like that, but L threw on a tanktop, thinner than her shirt and failing to obscure the shape of her breasts the way her normal shirt did. She put the handcuff back on and returned the key to its proper place before shutting her laptop. When she flung back the covers, Light rolled over, too quickly for someone supposed to be asleep. She covered her mouth– she was breathing way too hard.
L must’ve noticed, because she probably memorized her fucking breathing patterns or something, and halted her movements.
“Light?” she whispers softly, almost completely inaudible.
Light squeezed her eyes shut and did not move. Several agonizingly long seconds went by before L slid into bed. Light only felt the slightest dip of the mattress as she did– there really was ample space between them.
It took L a moment to get settled. Every atom in Light’s body was completely frozen except for her traitorous heart, pounding wildly in her chest.
She supposed now they were even– almost.
It was a matter of time before she saw L naked, anyway, seeing as the detective made it clear that tonight would be the only time she’d let Light shower alone. Not that the notion made her feel any less uneasy. If anything, she felt even worse, like she had just violated L’s privacy. That may be a line L had no problem crossing, but Light was better than that.
And yet, she could not force the image out of her mind, of the brief moment she had gotten an eyeful of L’s breasts. The fact that L didn’t even have the decency to wear a bra bothered Light more than it should. The concept of not requiring the support had never occurred to her. She supposed L could get away with it, obviously, being smaller than Light, and able to obscure her body under her ill fitting clothing.
Her whole body felt so warm she wondered if L could feel the heat radiating off of her from her side of the bed. The feeling, she realized with horror, settled low in her stomach, lower than she’d like. It was a foreign feeling, and a revolting one. She wanted to kick off the sheets and run herself a cold shower, wanted to forget that she was probably just as much of a pervert as she’d claimed L to be.
Her mind reeled as she willed herself back to sleep. Maybe she could convince herself she’d dreamed it, that her brain had conjured up the image based on her own insecurities and fears for some complicated but still very, very normal psychosexual reason.
No, she couldn’t think about it like that. She was tired, borderline delirious. It was L’s fault– she had woken her up. Light scowled against the pillow. Yes, that was it. She wasn’t perverted, it was an accident, and it was L’s fault for waking her up.
But she hadn’t meant to wake her up. She had very obviously been trying to be as quiet as possible. Clearly, she assumed Light to be fast asleep.
Mercifully, her heartrate subdued and her racing thoughts proved to be no match for her lingering exhaustion, and she finally was able to sleep. As she drifted from lucidity, she did not think about the girl sleeping next to her, and she especially did not think about watching her undress.
At least, she certainly tried not to.