[Light was sleeping when the shockwave hit. It's deep, childlike, just as it always is: the sleep of the innocent, or the truly psychopathic. Except that as the wave creeps over him with tenuous fingers, remaking and rewiring him, out of the corners of his mind scuttle ... spiders. Some tiny, some the size of a fist, on black, spiny legs. Some are
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Comments 158
Light: is there a reason why you are sending loud messages to the network in the middle of the night? Maybe you are injured?
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[The handset's beep, and the low reprimand, catch his attention the way little else could, because it's L, who was infuriating, but who's dead, because Light killed him.]
Ryuuzaki. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I didn't mean it.
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Please call me L.
Apologies are well and good, but I would prefer that you make a point of not doing it again. I do not sleep well.
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L. I see.
I think we should speak about this in the morning. I'm sorry if I've disturbed you.
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[It's a lie, and Ishida will more than know it - waves of horrified guilt that stem from the top floor like a siren.]
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Why do you care?
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[It's curt, and sounds a little defeated. Light still hates Bel with a passion, but he's no better, is he? No, I'm still better than him - or - was I? Was I, really?]
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[Bel's not too sure about that one, actually. But- no matter. He could assume, as long as that man wasn't here.]
You sound upset. [An idle observance, nothing more.]
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You sound as if you're having a good morning.
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Nothing, Yoite. Thank you for your concern.
Did I wake you?
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[It's too hollow to sound truly calm.]
I'll need to remember to keep the communicator out of my reach, that's all.
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Light's transmission to the network is a welcome diversion, until she actually listens to it. She's quick to remind herself that a terrified scream is nothing new to her, and that thought is like scalding herself on purpose.]
Kiyoshi. Are you damaged?
[In her case, employing the alias is nothing short of expected.]
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[He expects to be fielding these comments for the rest of the night. It's not a worry; he needs the diversion too.]
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Explain the noise.
[The scream or the swearing, whichever he prefers. He may recognize her tone of demand. She's predictably interested rather than concerned.]
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You don't dream?
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