Chapter Text
Chief Yagami was an incredibly genuine man. L might have liked to meet him under different circumstances but he liked him still. As he gave an impassioned speech to the investigative team about filing paperwork correctly, L’s phone went off. The team went silent as he took it out of his pocket and looked at the caller i.d.
“Ah,” he said. “It’s Light.”
A collective intake of breath cut through the air. Prying open the phone with ginger fingers, L put it to his ear. He opened his mouth, greeting on the tip of his tongue, and got cut off by Light’s hurried voice.
“Please. Talk to me.”
“Hm?” L blinked. “What is Light doing?”
“Oh, ha, ha,” Light laughed with such effervesce that L knew it was faked. “You’re telling me, Ryuga.”
“Ah, I see. Light has called me in order to escape a difficult conversation.” With one hand, L leveraged himself out of his chair and headed out of the room. “I suppose I can help you.”
“Ryuzaki,” Matsuda said. “Where are you going?”
L turned around to look Matsuda in the eyes and then shut the hotel room door behind him. Down the hallway on either side were cloying, peach-colored walls. A few paintings of boats hung on these walls as well as some curling lamps that cast warm light over the space. L started to shuffle down the hallway as, in his ear, Light continued to chatter.
“So how are you doing today?”
“I’m depressed,” L said. “Matsuda spilled coffee on several important documents.”
“How upsetting.” Light’s voice dipped. “You must’ve been devastated.”
The dryness of his delivery choked a little smirk out of L. There were a scattered few times that Light amused him since more often than not he found talking to Light an exercise in tediousness. His every answer was already calculated behind a wall that L could only claw at. His fingernails started to bleed after so long tearing at bricks. Chipping a bit of the wall away was satisfying in it’s own way but these times when Light opened to L of his own volition carried a different kind of weight. It worried him, at times, how easy it would be to just like Light: to want to hear him tell a joke or share a story just because his presence was appealing to L.
“Yes,” he said. “After he did that, I told him I’d fire him if he didn’t print off the documents again and make ten copies.”
“You’re so mean, Ryuga,” Light chuckled. “You shouldn’t be so hard on him all the time. It’s just going to bite you on the ass later.”
“I doubt it.” He reached and tilted a boat painting so it hung too far to the left. “Are you away from the person you were avoiding now?”
“Yes. I’m sorry I called so suddenly. A woman was trying to get me to sign some petition so I thought I’d pretend to be on a phone call and yours was the first number I thought of.”
“Light has my number memorized?”
A heavy silence hung over the phone and L could nearly hear the ticking sound of Light coming up with an excuse.
“I mis-spoke,” Light said. “I meant to say your name.”
“Of course.” L wormed his toes into the rough hallway carpet. Some of these hotels had the ugliest carpets he’d ever seen. “Does Light need me to stay on the phone with him any longer?”
“Oh.” A note of surprise perked up in Light’s voice. “No, not really. I guess I just enjoy talking to you. That’s all.”
“Do you remember that I’m conducting an investigation right now?”
“Yeah. You should get back to the team.” Light sighed. “Well, anyway, I’ll see you tonight.”
The touch of casualness in Light’s response stopped L’s thoughts. Something almost interested lurked at the edge of the other man’s voice as though he were bringing up plans to see a movie later. As though they were just friends who met up often, maybe even every night, and enjoyed being around each other. That strange parallel universe contained within Light’s tone was tempting to consider. He’d never had someone say see you tonight to him before.
“Of course,” L said. “See you tonight.”
He hung up and pocketed his phone, then opened the hotel room door and went back inside.