so many people are like 'argh! SO MANY CLIFF HANGERS!' and I find that awesome and hysterical, but also, sharing time!—
A long while ago I was reading this interview from Takeshi Obata and Tsugumi Ohba (I think it was in Death Note 13: How to Read or something, but don't take my word for it) and they said something along the lines of how it didn't matter what you managed to get through over the course of a page, so long as the final panel made you want to turn to the next one. I thought that was the best advice ever and follow it to the best of my ability. So in other words, the cliffhangers are never going to end.
:)
Guest: Light and Masami started sleeping in the same bed after the night Misa died. It was Chapter 24 that I bring it up I think—where Masami is depressed over her role in Misa's suicide, drinks way too much, and wakes up in bed with Light. All clothes on and stuff, but together. And it became a habit—intentional or otherwise. And I think what makes Masami so different from Misa and Takada is that she knows. She knows the real Light and she knows the relationship is a sham so keeping it up forever wouldn't be nearly as difficult as with Misa or Takada who he had to pretend with.
…
Big thank you Elfe Lunaire, who's translating this story into French.
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"This… is the first time that I actually want to punch a girl."
-Light Yagami
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"If you think that I wouldn't cut all ties with you, that I wouldn't abandon you at a moment's notice, that I would ever choose you over him, you are wrong."
Even if he'd been given ample time to prepare in advance, Light doubted that he could've concocted a better declaration.
He watched with vicious glee as Ryuga's face crumpled. Bright green eyes had fallen flat, dull and dead. The actor was more than a bit intoxicated (the reason, no doubt, that he had the courage to speak out at all) and Light doubted he'd remember the brunt of Masami's rejection by the next morning, but it didn't matter. Because even with the alcohol swimming through his veins to cushion the blow and assure him she still cared, she had still said it.
And better yet, she had meant it.
Masami was ultimately courteous about the situation—leaving a hefty tip for the waiters and staying to make sure that the pair of drunken actors had been shuttled off safely in a cab. But even though she was pushing all the right buttons in all the right ways and hitting all the social cues as neatly as ever, Light could tell she was hurting. She was upset. The skin around her eyes was tight and her lips were pulled even tighter.
The moment the little artist slid into the passenger seat of his car, she slumped forward, boneless, and smacked her head against the dashboard. And then she just sat there, face pressed into the dark panel and breathing softly into the PVC.
"I hate you."
The car came to life with a soft purr.
"No you don't."
It didn't matter. Because what she'd said, she had meant it. And that was all he cared about.
After a few minutes, Masami uncurled herself from her place smashed into the dashboard and turned instead to retreat into the soft leather of the car's seats. He arched a brow in silent question and she turned to grumble angry at the passing buildings.
"You can't blame me for all of that," Light hummed, eyes back on the road. "Even if I had been the one to instigate his little tantrum, what you said, well, that was all true."
She sniffed, indignant. "So? You knew all that already."
"I didn't."
She turned to glare at him sourly. "Of course you did. Did you honestly think I would be stupid enough to hound after someone else when we're already stuck in the most complicated fucking relationship to ever exist?! Morale aside, the press coverage, the potential witnesses and fallout… it wouldn't be worth it." She turned back to look out the window. "Besides. He's my friend and I don't want you killing him."
Light's grip on the steering wheel tightened. "So that's why you put him down? To protect him?"
"Of course."
His eyes narrowed and he bit back a snarl. Ryuk giggled merrily from the back seat.
"Sprinkle some truth into the lies," Masami mumbled under her breath. "It makes the fabrication more believable…"
"If you think that I wouldn't cut all ties with you, that I wouldn't abandon you at a moment's notice—"
Light paused. "So you were telling the truth."
"How many times are you going to make me repeat myself?" she snapped. "No. I'm not planning on hopping on the nearest white horse and riding off into the sunset with Ryuga Hideki. False relationship or otherwise, I'm not a cheater." The withering glare she shot him was incredibly pointed and he rolled his eyes.
"I never cheated."
"Oh, yeah? 'Let's pretend to be in a relationship. But I have a fiancée. Just FYI.' Sound familiar?"
"I never told you I was engaged, you figured Misa out on your own."
"Same difference!" she spat. "If not a Hell of a lot worse!"
"You're making this a lot more complicated than it needs to be."
"Really. And do you know how to simplify a fraudulent relationship built around murder and deceit? Because let me tell you, I learned a shit ton of useless stuff in college, but playing house with Kira wasn't exactly on the syllabus—"
Ryuk's howling was drilling into his skull as quickly and roughly as a jack hammer. That manic laughter was going to drive him out of his mind.
He pulled the car smoothly in the apartment's parking garage and stepped out onto the pavement slowly, only just managing to not to give in to frustration and slam the door behind him. Masami sat silently in the passenger seat, slumped and prickly and more importantly, unmoving.
He opened the door for her and she turned the other way with a huff, resolutely glaring out the opposite window and purposed adjusting the seatbelt over her lap.
"Stop acting like a child," he snapped.
"I'm not acting like a child."
"Yes, you are."
"You're acting like a child."
"I'm not the one who's refusing to get out of the car because of an argument."
"And yet you're perpetuating that argument."
"There's nothing to argue about. This is ridiculous."
"There's plenty to argue about!" she spat. "Piles and piles of piles that could swallow the Earth at this point!"
"There are more important things than—"
"More important things? Oh, you mean like the fact that I just lost the one friend I had at that god awful station? Because yeah, I'd say that's pretty important as well as a massive chunk of that pile I was talking about!"
Light's lips twisted into a snarl. "Don't blame me because that friend of yours has to deal with the consequences of his little confession. He could have stayed quiet and avoided that little break up act of yours. I was on my best behavior," he mocked and she winced. "I did nothing to goad him on. Maybe if he hadn't tried to worm his way into your bed in the first place and you'd been smart enough to see when a man wants you for nothing more than a notch on his belt, you'd still have your friend."
This time, he did slam the door.
The god of death flapped his jagged black wings leisurely to keep pace as Light turned his back and headed away. Ryuk looked back and forth between Light and Masami, who was still sitting stiffly in the car, and let out a low whistle.
"Wow. That was awesome, Light. Didn't know you had it in you—then again, I should've guessed you'd be good at the whole domestic spat thing." He swiveled to look once more at the car with a toothy grin. "You're just going to leave her there?"
"If Masami wants to sit and pout like a child," he grit out, "then she can do just that. No one's making her do anything, least of all me."
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Masami left for work in the morning as she always did, but when Light stopped at the apartment over his lunch break he found her propped up in the corner of her room, sketchbooks in all kinds of states of disarray surrounding her like a pack of scrappy dogs. She had a brush wedged behind her ear and there was a smudge of watered down blue paint across her left cheekbone where the wet bristles had brushed against skin.
She didn't look up as he walked over, stopping only a few inches from where she sat hunched against the wall.
She was busy adding flecks of seafoam to soft ocean waves.
"Aren't you supposed to be at the station? What are you doing here?"
"It's funny. I really miss painting," she said instead, an almost whimsical pitch to her voice as she dabbed at a mixture of off-white acrylic on her palette. "It's not as frustrating as I remember—much more therapeutic. Maybe because I'm not being graded on it…" she trailed off, thoughtful.
Light frowned. "Why are you here, Masami?"
She poked at a smudge on the thick water-color paper with her finger. Then she blinked, slow, and seemed to shake herself a bit.
"Oh? Here?" More prodding. "I'm on vacation."
"You're what."
She shrugged. "A bit impromptu, I suppose. But—" she waved her hand above her head. "That's life."
She finally looked up and met his eyes—angry silver crackling with venom and reaching out as if to spar with his own golden brown. She was livid. Nothing out of the ordinary there. But it was colder than normal. Usually Masami's anger ran red and vibrant. Now she was icy and subdued. And for once, it almost seemed like it wasn't aimed at him.
Light sighed and ran a hand through his hair, grabbed the files he needed, and left the little artist to her brooding.
When he came home that night, she was wrapped up far too tightly in far too many layers of blankets. He dragged a few away and tossed them to the end of the bed so she wouldn't suffocate and made himself comfortable. No response. He rolled his eyes and settled in to sleep.
The next three days proceeded in much the same fashion—when Light left in the mornings Masami was in her corner drawing or painting or scribbling Hell knew what, and by the time he returned at night she was buried in a half-metric ton of expensive fuzz.
On the fourth day he came home at lunch to drop a thick brown paper bag and tiny Tupperware container at her feet. He remembered a similar experience that had played just over three months ago. A peace offering made in bread. It was almost biblical.
She sniffed once, twice, and put down her sketchbook. She reached for the bag almost eagerly.
"You brought me bagels." A brief glance at the plastic bowl. "And Miso soup."
"You need to eat."
She ripped into the first bagel. "I'm eating."
Finding his way to that damn Western bakery she liked had been obnoxious, and getting back in time so that the bread was still fresh and warm had been even more so.
"No, you're not."
She held up the mutilated chunk of bagel pointedly and began working the lid off the soup.
"You know what I mean."
She shrugged, mouth full of soggy bread. She finished off the first bagel at a speed Light hardly thought possible, let alone safe, and reached for another. A few chunks in, she paused, chewing thoughtfully for a moment before swallowing and clearing her throat.
"Hideki fucked Ami."
Well. That was blunt.
Light arched a brow.
Masami took another bite.
"And…?"
She shrugged and busied herself with dunking a massive chunk of an onion bagel into the Miso soup.
"That bothers you," he surmised, annoyed.
"It bothers him," she corrected.
"And the fact that it bothers him, bothers you."
"And the fact that it bothers me that it bothers him, bothers you," she drawled, rolling her eyes.
She tore off another piece of bagel and took a moment to observe it thoughtfully rather than just shove it down her throat like she had with the others.
"Apparently he doesn't remember a lot of it," she hummed, twirling the hunk of bread between her fingers. "Too drunk. Then again, so was Ami. However," she held up a finger, "one thing that they both seem to recall with incredibly clarity is that it wasn't Miss Hamazaki's name that he was calling out while they were doing the do."
Masami popped the bagel bit into her mouth and gestured to the mess of art supplies surrounding her.
"Hence, my siesta."
Light's eyes narrowed and his gaze roved up and down her arms, her neck, whatever skin she had left exposed. There were a few purple splotches around her jaw. A small circlet of yellowing streaks wrapping around her left wrist.
"Actresses, man," she sighed. "They're all fucking crazy. I mean, Misa was going to kill me, so that's a little different. Ami just wanted to break my nose. But whatever. Nuts—all of them."
She shoved the final hunk of bagel number two into her mouth and retrieved her paint brush from behind her ear.
"Thanks for remembering that they're my favorite."
That night there were a few less blankets in the pile. Still enough that Light felt the need to extract two or three from the heap, but her face had been visible from the get-go so at least it didn't seem like she was intentionally smothering herself anymore. Or hiding.
Now that he'd seen it once, the garish splotch of purples and yellows marring her skin was impossible not to notice, even in the dark…
Day number five brought with it the first major deviation from her apparent schedule.
When Light walked through the bedroom door at 7:22pm, Masami was sprawled across the mattress, feet hanging loosely over the side and sleek black cellphone all but pressed to her face as she squinted at the bright screen. Ryuk hovered a few feet above her head, tilted upside down and munching on an apple.
"You could always just kill her," the Shinigami offered helpfully, twisting around like he was trying to somehow sneak a glance at whatever had popped up on the screen.
"I told you already. No. You can't just take all your problems and, I don't know, write them away. Especially in the situation I'm in."
He cackled and arched a hairless, white brow. "Love triangle?"
"Media."
Light tossed his suit jacket down beside her and she startled.
"When did you get here?"
He snorted. "For someone who I've seen firsthand is able to pick apart all the details of the world, you're ridiculously unobservant."
She rolled her eyes but pinched her lips to keep silent and returned to her phone without a word. He frowned.
"Is something wrong?"
"Oh, no. I've just been holed up in my apartment for a week after we duked it out in the car over a very public argument at one of the most famous bars in Tokyo. Totally normal."
"Sarcasm is the lowest form of wit."
"Well good thing I wasn't trying to be witty then."
A pause.
"…do you ever just—" she made an awkward gesture with her hand, "I don't know… wonder, about people. Not in the way like, wow, I wonder who they're sleeping with or, hey, do you think he gets his teeth bleached, but like, wonder what's driving their thoughts. That kind of wonder."
He thought of his mental sparring matches with L—the constant and deadly game of cat and mouse that would leave him submerged in the detective's brain for hours at a time as he tried to work out his next move. He thought of Near. How it had been easier the second time around. How he hadn't even had to meet the albino boy to draw up a clear and accurate map of his mind. He thought of Masami, who's thoughts and emotions were always written so clearly across her face. How most of the time that didn't make it any easier to tell what she was thinking. Having all parts available didn't mean he had any accurate way of fitting them together. Sometimes, that was even more frustrating.
"Yes. All the time."
She tapped her phone against her chin.
"You were wrong. Hideki didn't want me as a bed warmer. He doesn't want anyone to be a notch in his belt." Her eyes hardened a bit at this, very pointedly. "He's too sweet for that."
Light could feel the muscles ticking in his jaw. "And the point of this is?"
"He slept with Ami."
"You told me that," he frowned, but quickly his own mind began piecing things together. "And he sees that as an issue."
"Right. I told you that too."
"An issue that he doesn't know how to escape from. So he's asking you for help."
"Bingo."
"And this is your problem because…?"
She sighed and stretched out across the bed. "Because, lovelorn public outbursts aside, he is my friend. Or at least, he was. And I'm not exactly happy with Ami at the moment." His eyes caught on the bruises circling her wrist. "And helping Hideki out of this mess will make things hard on her, and the vengeful sinner in me is all for that."
"I still just think you should kill her," Ryuk piped in.
Light sighed and sat down beside her, plucked the phone from her hands, and began scrolling through a solid three hours worth of messages.
I don't know what to do.
I don't want to hurt her.
I'm so sorry.
I didn't know what I was doing.
She's not you.
It was all so horribly cliché and it made his teeth ache. He forced his jaw to unclench.
"What does thought motivation have to do with any of this?"
"Well," she began awkwardly, "I was thinking that if I could figure out what part of him drives that guilt, or what sets it off, I could find a way to counteract it, you know? Yes, he's chivalrous, but if I could find out how to push his buttons enough to override that, well, that'll be a success." She paused for a moment, caught in thought. "… and I could always set him up with Sayu afterwards—two birds with one stone and all that. We could have family dinners every Sunday. It'll be so much fun."
"No."
She smirked. "Never would have guessed the big, bad, Kira would be protective of his little sister."
That wasn't it at all, but Masami could think what she liked.
He handed her the phone.
"Most of his problem seems to be born from the fact that he slept with someone else when he's still obsessed with you. He sees the two of you as being in a relationship, even when you aren't. And he feels like he was unfaithful. Even if you don't mean it, assure him it's alright. That everyone makes mistakes. That no harm was done."
"He's not obsessed with me."
Of course that's what she'd take from it.
"What else would you call it then? Love?"
She hesitated. "He's not in love with me either."
Light scoffed. "You're blind."
Masami huffed and dove under the covers with her phone. Light took that brief moment of peace to take in the state of the room. He noticed with a start that all of her wayward sketchbooks and paints and pencils had been cleared away. A few of her 'stress paintings' were tacked to the walls instead of strewn across the floor and the ever growing pile of laundry had been cleared away.
"Feeling better?" he asked the lump hiding under the blankets. The lump nodded. He sighed and settled back against the headboard. He closed his eyes and opened his mouth. There was still one more thing they needed to talk about. "Kira needs to come back soon."
Masami emerged from her cocoon with a frown. The light from her phone lit her face and the lines of worry pulling at her mouth were even more prominent.
"It hasn't even been two weeks."
"And you've seen the chaos it's caused."
There weren't exactly full scale riots or marches on the capital, but people were frenzied. Panicked. The crime rates hadn't gone up by much, but any increase at all was too much for his taste. People had turned to Masami looking for answers, but her explanation had been far from what they'd wanted to hear. Kira's loyal supporters were going after each other like rabid dogs fighting for scraps. Each day the news reports told the tales of vicious murders and assaults committed by the most unsuspecting assailants. The more violent and outspoken were hounded by those who had been kind and quiet because clearly Kira had disappeared, and it was all their fault.
"The sooner Kira comes back, the sooner you can leave the station," he tried.
"That's a lie and you know it."
"People are going to start thinking that I'm gone for good."
"Isn't that the point?"
"And all the scum that hid away under rocks in terror will come crawling back out."
"We agreed on a month. That was the plan."
"Plans change."
"You amend plans to correct errors. There is no fault in waiting another two weeks."
He stared her down and she threw her hands into the air.
"Fine. Give it another week at least though. Please. Otherwise you're going to seem like the flip-floppy parent who threatens to take away the kid's toys but never does. And then nothing you do will make a difference when it comes to controlling them." She groaned. "And nothing's even happened yet. No one's repented! Nothing's changed! You're going to ruin everything."
Light snorted. "We made our threat. That's all that matters."
Masami grumbled and dove back under the safety of her blankets. Light yanked them away. She yanked them back and curled over the edges so he couldn't grab them. He rolled his eyes and let her have them.
"One more week," he said, standing with a languid stretch before snatching fresh clothes and heading to the bathroom. "And then Kira has to return."
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Jealousy is ugly. But also so much fun when it's Light.
A little shorter than the last two, but I needed to end it here or else it would never have ended and this update was already pushed so far back that I didn't want to wait any longer.