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Chapter Text

Tokyo, 11.30 AM JST

“Sayu,” a voice whispers urgently. “Sayu.”

To Sayu, barely conscious, the disembodied voice barely registers, as she simply turns to her left, raising her down comforter over her head to muffle the sound.

The voice tries again, this time sounding a little more indignant, and this time, accompanied by a gentle hand on her shoulder. “Sayu!”

Sayu pretends not to notice, in hopes that the voice would go away. That was what some animals did, wasn’t it? They played dead until whatever predator was chasing them lost interest and left. She had seen that on the Animal Channel, once. Maybe the logic would apply to annoying voices, too, she thought, taking care to remain still. boneless. dead.

She feels the presence at her shoulder move away, and is about to mentally congratulate herself on her own brilliant scheme, when she hears another set of footsteps near the bed.

“Sayu!” The new set of footsteps snaps. “We have to go.”

The sleep-mask covering her eyes is yanked off, just in time for her to see Light, staring impatiently down at her. She squints at the sudden influx of light, (Ha, light, she notes deliriously) blinking to let her eyes adjust, and slowly sitting up. Matsuda is standing behind Light, looking slightly sheepish. “I tried,” he offers, as the impatience on Light’s face turns to dismay when he sees Sayu’s Pajama set.

“She’s not even dressed!” He says in despair, shoving a Styrofoam cup into Sayu’s hand, and throwing open her closet to reveal the one outfit hanging on the empty racks. “Five minutes. Downstairs.” He says as he sweeps out of the room.

Matsuda shoots her a sympathetic glance as he leaves with Light. “It’s your favorite,” he says, nodding to the cup in her hand. “Strawberry-banana.”

Sayu sighs at the empty room, and gets up.

London, 3.30 AM BST

L’s phone is ringing. L’s phone should not be ringing in the early hours in the morning, when he is trying to get his rest.

L is so not happy.

He gropes around on his bedside table, before finding his phone, and answering the call.

“What?” He practically snarls at his terrified secretary, rubbing his temples. Except it’s not his terrified secretary on the other end of the line, it’s Aiber.

“L, man, look, we’ve got an issue,” Aiber drawls, unfazed by L’s hostile tone. “One of the men fucked up, and then the shields went down. We need you to come here and fix them.”

Alarm bells sound in L’s head.

“What time did this happen?” He asks, scooping up his laptop, and running downstairs. He pulls a navy coat over his sweater-and-lounge-pants combo, and grabs a red bull from the fridge. “Has anyone noticed?”

“Not yet, Thank God. But, like, you need to drop by, like asap.”

“I’ll be there in an hour. Keep me updated.” L says before hanging up, and calling the car around.

He turns on his laptop, and logs into his account. It’s going to be a long day.

 Tokyo, 11.40 AM JST

Sayu stumbles into the car, in her grey tank and jeans, ten minutes later.

Light’s been keeping track of time, but he chooses to let it slide as he looks at her exhausted, bleary-eyed state. It’s been hard on her, he reminds himself, patting his blazer-ed shoulder to indicate that she could rest her head there.

She leans on him, and a wave of her sweet-smelling shampoo wafts up to his nose as she raises her head to look at him. “Will Mom and Dad send us off?”

“They’re in Kyoto,” Light reminds her, as Matsuda quickly adds “But they wish all of us the best.”, upon seeing her crestfallen face.

She nods and looks at her half-empty cup in her lap.

“Where will we be staying in London?”

“We’re booking a hotel suite near the offices.” Matsuda says.

“Will we be staying together?” Sayu presses.

“Yeah,” sighs Light, “We’re sharing.”

Sayu smiles.

“Okay.” she says, before closing her eyes, resting them she insists when Light reminds her not to fall asleep, because they’ll “be reaching soon”.

When her breaths grow slow and steady, Light gives a half-laugh, looking tenderly at his sleeping sister. He loves her, but he doesn’t understand her, sometimes. He doesn’t get why she doesn’t listen to him, when he obviously knows best, being extremely, genius-level smart and all. He doesn’t get her insistence on ‘family time’, when everybody is obviously busy working. And he doesn't get why she’s nervous about moving to Britain, when this is obviously a huge opportunity for Light to bring the brand outside of Asia, and, a huge show of trust from their parents. If anyone should be nervous, it’s Light, he’s the one doing all the work, after all. Sayu should be excited that their parents let her tag along to learn, after all her begging. But, it’s the other way around, Sayu was nervous, and Light was excited.

Light was so excited. Light was so, so excited. In fact, he was almost bursting with excitement, his mind full of plans, and blueprints, and ideas. Britain was going to be so good. They were going to be so good. He was going to do so well.

The airport comes into view, as does the swarm of reporters waiting for them. Matsuda shakes Sayu awake, as the chauffeur opens the door, and hustles the three of them out into the airport, where they are then hustled into the jet. Sayu immediately obtains a new sleep-mask, and goes back to sleep, while Light and Matsuda take advantage of the video game console. They have ten hours to kill, after all. Light figures that he can study later.

 London, 1.40 PM BST

YAGAMI is written in big block letters on cream cardstock, and the man in the suit is a welcome sight amidst the throng of press.

The paper is very good quality, Light notes with appreciation. Ivory shades, heavy stock, matte finish. Commendable effort.

"Thank god we didn't use Heathrow." Matsuda sighs behind him, surveying the considerable mass of people below them. He runs his fingers through his hair and, as an afterthought, takes the cart from the waiting baggage attendant. "I'd hate to see the crowd there."

"I think it's poetic, really." Sayu’s awake now, back to her normal self, and full of energy. She slings her arm around Matsuda's neck, tiptoeing in her black studded boots to get a better reach. He bears this with a sort of patient resignation, just as he had when they were younger and Sayu would constantly climb on him, and poke him, and tease him, in her own self entitlement. He never told her to stop, and he will never tell her to stop, and so they perform their act again, and again, in variants, as a tribute to Matsuda's tolerance. "They're here to try to interview us. To take pictures of us walking in an airport. That's their job. They're down there and we're up here. It gives me a rush."

Her phone chirps against his chest and she retrieves her arm to answer it.

After pressing the button for the lift. Light looks back at them, amused. "Watch your mouth, little sister. They'll have a field day if they hear you." He smirks at Sayu who sticks her tongue out at him in a childish display of defiance, and turns to Matsuda " And we only use Heathrow when we fly commercially. We use City when we take the Jet because it's closer to central London and the service is better."

The tinny ring that the elevator makes punctuates his statement, and all three of them make their way into the lift.

Sayu sits on her Louis Vuitton trunk as she taps on her her phone with her oxblood nails. Matsuda nudges her off as the doors open.

"Remember, we don't talk to the press until we get to welcoming services, and we don't stop until we reach the car." Light instructs. " 'Yagami Group is honored by the warm welcome.' "

"Anything else?" Sayu asks sarcastically, gathering her hair into a messy ponytail. She leaves several strands free, partly due to a lack of skill, partly due to a lack of caring, but knowing the press it'll probably become a new trend. Thousands of girls everywhere will be artfully pulling hairs out of their ponytails, to recreate a look that Sayu Yagami did not bother to invent.

Light grins. "Smile pretty."

Sayu gives him a pointed look, before her lips curve up, and she smiles like a knife. Light gives a small nod of approval, as he straightens his tie. Matsuda puts on his sunglasses, and the three of them walk on ahead, as the cameras flash.

 London, 3PM BST

Confidence is of utmost importance, her mother had told her once, as well as foresight and preparation. If you have all three, you can do anything. 

Of course, her mother’s wisdom was often in reference to business ventures, and expansion plans, which was basically all they ever talked about. However, Merrie eventually had come to realize, that the acumen that they shared could also be applied to more… unconventional practices.

In the boutique’s VIP fitting area she runs her fingers through the racks of hand-stitched gowns, cocktail dresses adorned with pearls and crystal paillettes, and taps a finger against her lip thoughtfully. She pulls out a white tulle affair with a sprinkling of sequins. Feminine fit, flattering silhouette. Elegant. She holds it against herself, twisting to get a better look in the mirror, and shoves it back into the rack. Boring. She selects a stenay sequin trophy dress. Black silk shell encrusted with heavy beads, a sequin floral motif in gold, navy and rose along the shoulders. Front/back tail hem design.

It brings out her eyes.

“I’ll take this one,” she calls to the attendant waiting on her, who silently takes it and escorts her down to the public area. She walks around the store as she rings it up, looking at the the clothes, and admiring the lavish displays of white magnolia blossoms. In one of the many store blind spots, she slips a strand of black pearls and a diamond broach into the already-full pockets of her white fur coat, and then surreptitiously drops the security tags into a nearby man’s coat pocket

“Miss, your car is ready,” The sales associate informs her with a bow.

Merrie waves as she exits the building.

As Kiyomi Takada hands her black credit card over to her salesgirl to pay for her custom-fit embellished champagne halter dress (Scalloped edge, art deco, delicate beadwork. Very tasteful, perfect for Yotsuba), she sees a man in a shabby tweed coat get accosted by the doorman for setting off security alarms at the other end of the store.

London, 6PM BST

News travels fast in the business world. It's probably something to do with how the business world is never constant, but ever-evolving, stock prices dive and rocket every second, scandals break out every minute, new technology is developed every day. To succeed in business, one must keep up with the constant flurry of activity, not only surviving when the tsunami strikes, but being all packed up and long gone before it hits. Naturally, a speedy dissemination of information is the prerogative of the industry as a whole.

However, in the Wammy House, the speed at that which news travels is light-years ahead.

"What do you mean, 'You know'!?" Mihael screeches, throwing his hands up in the air in exasperation. "He arrived two minutes ago!"

Matt is long accustomed to his companion's frequent emotional outbursts. Mihael is rage and loud noises combined with a dash of an inferiority complex, and if Wammy had any neighbors the cops would probably be called in as noise control about once every week.

He doesn't bother to take his eyes off his game, "What I mean," Matt drawls lazily,"Is that I have just as many sources as you do, and it has been brought to my attention- just as it has been to yours that L will be attending the Yotsuba Event tonight as a Wammy Representative with the rest of us."

Onscreen, his car runs over two people.

"Actually," Nate says quietly from his spot on the bed, "The one who arrived about three minutes ago was Beyond, who was with A." He flips a page of his book. It's a cyberpunk novella, and he's halfway through. "L probably made a detour to Starbucks. He got a call really early in the morning, so he’s probably been up for a while. Please fact-check in future.''

Mihael scowls.

Matt lets out an amused huff of air that is probably meant to be a laugh. Whether it is directed at Mihael's utter emasculation, or at the prostitute that he just brutally murdered on screen remains ambiguous.

Linda reflects on the fact that the majority of their interactions play out in this exact model. Mihael bursts in in a religious rage, Nate rebuts impassively, Matt tries to conjure enough interest in the topic to placate Mihael. As the youngest of all four, Linda discreetly observes, occasionally offering insight. Wash, rinse, repeat. They all have very specific roles that they play, and play well, and thus subsequently stick to, probably more for the sake of routine familiarity rather than anything else. Their relationship is built on a tried-and-tested formula, that none of them dare stray from for fear of upsetting the delicate balance of their coexistence- although Linda sometimes thinks that secretly, they don't all hate each other as much as it seems, that a twisted form of affection resides in barbed quips.

"Yo Lind," Matt calls over his shoulder "What kind of cake do ya think that L'll get this time?" L always orders cake when he visits. It's a Wammy tradition. To the younger affiliates, the name 'L' has become almost synonymous to sugary confections and dessert forks.

As well as success, of course.

A shiny black car pulls up in the courtyard below, and the four of them regard it with a form of subdued interest.

Linda twists a strand of hair around her finger. She has friends at several popular bakeries. "Gâteau au chocolat." She decides.

Mihael wets his lips, and comments, without taking his eyes away from the Bentley. "My favorite."

London, 6.15 PM BST

When L arrives, he has an espresso in one hand, a WC tablet in the other and a pained look on his face.

Honestly, he's fucking exhausted, with those bastards in the syndicate blundering about and fucking things up, and nearly getting their bloody IPs traced by the fucking government for god’s sake. Wammy technology can only do so much in the hands of morons. Especially morons that are hacking into very sensitive, high-profile company databases. They're lucky that the information they've managed to give him so far has made him a small fortune, or else L would have shut their whole operation down. He had to be woken up at 4 am to personally take a trip down to headquarters, and manually scramble, and then redirect their very obvious electronic footprint to somewhere in fucking Nigeria, just to cover their tracks.

4-fucking-am.

Talk about if you want something, do it yourself.

Even the bloody blue collar workers were asleep at 4 am. Everyone was asleep at 4 am. But L wasn't asleep because some absolute genius in the syndicate forgot to cover his tracks. And he’s still not asleep now, because he still has to rub elbows at Yotsuba Event.

But, if there's one thing he’s learnt in his years of being a Wammy associate, its that you can never be too informed when it comes to business, whether the unsavory kind or not, and so he pops a psycho-stimulant, takes a swig of his coffee and soldiers on, committing the painstakingly-gotten Yotsuba Event records to memory, scanning through the names and faces of the future attendees. Every opportunity is a networking opportunity, and the list of invited guests seems promising. He takes note of the more significant companies and their representatives, mentally making a note to Google them later. Know thy potential business partners as well as thy know thyself, after all, and L is prepared to conquer.

In the common room, he finds the others waiting for him, already dressed. Linda’s in a black mesh dress and she gives him a small smile, as does Near, in his denim shirt and gray jacket. Matt grins in his dark green suit, and Mihael waves all in black. A nods, and B winks. “Let’s get this show on the road,” he declares.

Just before they set out for Yotsuba, the six specially-selected Wammy representatives each have a slice of chocolate cake.

$$$

Chapter Text

London, 7.45 PM BST

Sayu grabs a glass of champagne from the nearest waiter and disappears in the crowd almost immediately upon arrival, clearly not as interested in the unveiling of Yotsuba Corp's new line of smart cars as she is in mingling with the guests. Light watches as a drop of her drink spills on the hem of her structured peach dress as she weaves her way through the mob, and sighs.

Knowing her, she'll probably ruin it by the end of the night.

Matsuda's conversing with the Yotsuba VP about one of the new cars, nodding and making a fairly good show of appearing interested, and Light decides to follow his example. After making his presence known, and the appropriate congratulatory remarks, Light excuses himself, and surveys the exhibition.

The Yotsuba cars have nothing on the Yagami cars, of course, their features are limited and the attempts at green technology are rudimentary at best, but Yotsuba’s expansion into the auto industry shows some degree of prosperity in the company as a whole. Yotsuba is definitely one to watch, especially as a fellow Japanese company expanding into the global market.

Better safe than sorry, after all, and no matter how inferior the company, competition is competition.

He makes small talk with a few minor executives, and is idly fanning himself with the programme booklet when a girl with long, strawberry blonde hair, and wine red lips approaches him. She’s plastered all over the venue, on posters, on pamphlets, hell, she’s on a billboard outside, sprawled out in the cars in her navy silk-chiffon frock.

Light thinks that it might be Polo Ralph Lauren.

“I’m Misa Amane,” she extends her hand.

He takes it in his. “You’re Misa Amane,” he agrees. “I’ve seen you around back in Japan.”

They’ve been invited to the same events on numerous occasions, and he’s seen several of her commercials on SakuraTV. The Tokyo circuit is familiar to him. She’s a famous Japanese pop idol, a household name in the Asia Pacific, and has a wide array of endorsements and commercial appearances under her belt. He cannot stand her bubblegum pop, although Sayu is fond of blasting it at parties.

“We never were formally introduced, though,” She tilts her head up to look at his face. Her hand is small in his. “Light Yagami.”

“Light Yagami,” he affirms. “Pleased to make your acquaintance. I’m a fan.” he looks her in the eye, and flashes her one of his most charming grins, the one immortalised in his feature in Times.

She lowers her head in a display of modesty, but also deliberately opens, and shifts her bejewelled clutch, so that he can get a better look at its contents. In it, surrounded by a small compact mirror, a tube of lipstick, and a wad of cash, is a very tiny dart, about an half inch long, encased in protective glass.The very kind of dart, that Light, along with the Yagami Group, and not to mention the Japanese Yakuza, had been developing, in an ultra secret program focusing on biological and chemical ammunition.

Misa lowers her head once again, and laughs at the ground when she sees Light’s expression.

“So am I.”

Britain, 8.15 PM BST

The event’s in full swing when L makes his way to the front of the exhibition, after making conversation with several Wammy Partners. He looks at the cars for a minute before mentally dismissing them and their sheer unremarkability, and heads over to the dessert table. He selects a couple macaroons, settling into one of the gilded chairs.

Touta Matsuda, 22, Yagami Representative, sits next to him, eating a petit four.

L has done his homework. According to Forbes, the Yagami Group (YG) is a Billion-dollar, Private Family-owned Japanese multinational company and conglomerate primarily involved in aerospace and arms manufacturing, also known for its line of automobiles. The YG’s origins reach back to the original zaibatsu, and its aerospace and arms division serves as a defense contractor to the Japanese government, manufacturing Boeing and Lockheed Martin helicopters and airplanes under license along with being a global development and manufacturing partner to both companies. YG is currently expanding into nuclear and renewable energy sources. As fellow Japanese automobile manufacturers, the Yagami group was invited to witness the unveiling of the Yotsuba smartcars. Three representatives were sent as a show of support.

They’ll be good business connections.

L wonders where Light (21) and Sayu (19) Yagami have gotten to.

“Are those any good?” he asks Matsuda, nodding to the cake in his hands.

Matsuda looks up, and realizes that he's talking to L Lawliet, Wammy alumnus, Wammy Corp representative, and at 23 one of the youngest millionaire stock traders in the world.

He leans in in a conspiratorial whisper. “They aren’t bad,” Matsuda says with a small laugh, “But the cake pops are better.”

“ I’ll keep that in mind,” says L, laughing too. He’s read somewhere that humor is one of the best ways to establish and strengthen relations, due to the feelings of goodwill that are unconsciously transmitted, as well as the enforcement of a group identity, and figures that they’re off to a great start. “I’m L Lawliet, Wammy Cooperation,”

“Touta Matsuda, Yagami Group.” Matsuda shakes his hand, and their gazes meet as they give each other slight nods.

The introduction is a formality, of course, they both obviously know who the other is. The handshake is part of procedure. By silent agreement, they’re now associates. Business has its own language, and both of them have learnt how to quickly make lucrative connections with companies of a similar caliber, with minimum effort. They’ll probably need to work with one another sometime in the future, and one, or both of them will inevitably tap on this encounter to feign that close relations actually exist. It’s a predictable move in the lying game where appearances mean everything, but it’s an effective one, and that’s all that matters. It's a form of symbiosis.

They smile at each other as a last, deliberate courtesy.

Matsuda sits back down, pulls out his phone and sends a message. L goes to get more champagne.

Britain, 8.15 PM BST

Standing primly to one side with a few minor members of the British government, is Kiyomi. They make pleasant conversation, and Kiyomi is bored out of her mind. She has better things to do than chat with her father's cohorts. She takes another sip of her drink and laughs politely along with the rest of them in response to someone's anecdote, involving a technical mishap at Yotsuba a few years back, resulting in the grisly demise of all the intricate ice sculptures.

"Kiyomi!" Sayu calls, waving from where she is by the fountain.

She's slightly tipsy, her hair's a mess, and she's wearing bright yellow eyeshadow- she couldn't be any more different from refined, elegant Kiyomi, but the look works for her and she looks fresh and fun. Kiyomi has never been gladder to see her. They'd met at several exclusive Japanese parties, and bonded over their mutual distaste for the dull social events.

She excuses herself from the group and makes her way over.

"Nice to see you." She smirks.

"Likewise," Sayu returns. She notices that Kiyomi’s cut her beautiful hair to her shoulders. "How's the party?"

"Tedious. Is there anything to do here besides looking at these bloody cars?"

“Don’t think so. Tell me again why we’re here?”

“Technically we’re supposed to be impressed by the futuristic design of the vehicles, and mingle with the corporates. But as usual, nothing’s happening and everyone's networking. My father sent me in his place. The embassy’s holding a negotiation.” Kiyomi explains, pursing her glossy peach lips in displeasure.

Both of them share this burden, they’re tokens to ensure representation. However, while Kiyomi has always carried out her role flawlessly, Sayu never had any business sense, and could never, for the life of her differentiate a funeral from an opening ceremony. It's all a slew of corporate events that her father sends her to in an attempt to present her to the circuit, and they blend together in a blur of expensive outfits and fancy venues. She relies on whoever she’s with to tell her how to act, and the task has been left to Kiyomi many a time.

Sayu’s flippant naivety inspires compassion, and they’re friends, in a way.

Sayu widens her eyes. “Lets mingle then.” She scans the crowd, and tilts her head at a couple boys, about their age, standing nearby.

“They look interesting. Who’re they?”

Kiyomi thinks that at this point, anyone younger than thirty-five looks interesting. She looks at them, and tries to figure out where she’s seen them. “They’re Wammy’s boys.” she determines.

“Wammy’s?”

Kiyomi cannot tell if Sayu’s being intentionally dense, or if she’s really that obvlious. To be honest, she wouldn’t be surprised if it was the latter.

She leans in closer and elaborates patiently. “They’re a big name here. Wammy Corporation is a Billion-Dollar British Global Conglomerate that develops, manufactures, licenses, supports and sells computer software, consumer electronics and personal computers and services. WC Technology is world renowned. The WC is notorious for scouting young talent, and has an institution, The Wammy House that focuses purely on developing young British Genii/Prodigies to their fullest potential, which is probably where these guys are from.”

Sayu can smell her daisy perfume. She thinks that she might purchase a bottle.

“Come on,”  Sayu grabs Kiyomi’s manicured hand and pulls her towards the group.

The three boys regard the two girls with interest. Nate thinks that they look like dolls, with their dark hair and pale skin.

“Hello,” Sayu announces. “Do you want to get something to eat?”

Kiyomi groans inwardly at the inappropriate familiarity, and is just about to try to salvage their reputation,  when the boy with red hair answers.

“Sure.” He looks amused, and gives them a quick once-over.

His grin widens. “I’m Mail Jeevas, but you can call me Matt.” He turns to his companions. “This is Mihael Keehl, and Nate River.” he points at them respectively. “You’re Sayu Yagami, and Kiyomi Takada.”

He offers his arm.

Kiyomi raises her eyebrows.

Sayu takes it and beams.

They end up not only at the rooftop bar, but also enjoying each other’s company more than they initially expected. They get drunk, and when Nate passes out up on the sofa with his head on Sayu’s shoulder, Mihael fills in his lips with Kiyomi’s YSL lip stain. At the end of the night, they take selfies and exchange numbers.

Britain 8.15 PM, BST

Misa leads Light to her executive suite on the 18th floor of the hotel. They’ll probably be rumors that they’re fucking by the end of the night, but unsurprisingly, Light cannot bring himself to care.

He’s on edge, naturally he’s on edge- one of the most dangerous biological weapons in the world is in the hands of a teenage pop idol. A Top-Secret, dangerous biological weapon that nobody’s supposed to know about, and that could lead to devastating implications if exposed, is being tossed about in Misa Amane’s clutch like a pack of gum.

This had to happen on his first day.

Misa perches on the corner of her Louis XIV writing desk, and swings her legs. Her red heels scuff the immaculate walnut finishing.

Light watches her warily.

“Toxin-tipped, the width of a human hair, and roughly half an inch long, almost undetectable when fired. The poison leaves no trace in the victim’s body, and triggers what looks like a natural heart attack. A joint project between Yagami and the Yakuza, it’s still being refined, and this is just a prototype, but the Yagami group has plans to supply it, in very small quantities, to the Yakuza, in exchange for a considerable amount, and the occasional elimination of corporate competitors. Did i miss anything?” she cocks her head.

“That’s classified information.” Light replies stiffly.

“Its an extremely lucrative business venture.” Misa smiles pleasantly “I want in.”

“Is this a threat?” Light asks, dangerously.

“It’s more of a negotiation. This isn’t exactly a legal... embarkment.”

Light’s tone is cold. “What makes you so sure of your safety?” The implication is clear.

Misa’s eyes harden.

“I have connections to several of the Yakuza researchers on the project. They would hate if anything were to happen to me, I would think.” she continues, waving one hand vaguely “I’m not asking for much, maybe a teensy cut and one or two people. I’m very easy to please. It won’t make a dent in what you’re earning.”

Light cannot believe this. He has a genius IQ but he’s being threatened by a girl a year younger than him who dropped out of high school to become a singer. It's horrendously ironic.

What’s sadder is that he’s considering giving in. If only to stall. He is sure that he can find some way to make this work, but he only needs time.

“You get three percent of the cut. Get the details from your “connections”. I’ll wire you the money when orders open. We’ll discuss the specifics then.” He spits out.

He stands up, and leaves. Misa adjusts his collar on his way out. “Pleasure doing business. I’ll be in touch.” Whatever may come, they're in this together now.

It’s a hideous mockery, and Light is fuming.

Britain, 8.30 PM BST

Light composes himself in the elevator, where the classical music calms him.

By the time he gets back to the ballroom his mask is back perfectly in place.

Britain, 8.30 PM BST

L watches as the blonde girl in the black dress shakes hands with the transport minister, and flawlessly removes his patek philippe calatrava watch.

Nobody notices, and as she walks away, a hint of a self-satisfied smile plays on her lips. She’s the sole heiress to to an American luxury fashion and lifestyle empire, and she just stole a forty thousand dollar watch from an underpaid member of the cabinet.

No one will ever suspect her.

It’s pretty clever, really.

He walks up to her just as she fastens it onto her wrist. “Nice watch.” Nice Job.  

“Thank you. It was a gift from one of my friends.” He’s on to her, but she doesn’t mind. If anything, he seems impressed. She wonders who he is. “I don’t believe we’ve met.”

“L Lawliet. Wammy’s.” He shakes her hand

“Merrie Kenwood.” Her grip is firm.

At the corner of his eye, he sees Light Yagami in a black tuxedo, coming in from the side entrance.

“Well, it was nice meeting you, Merrie, but i’m afraid that I have a friend to catch.” He hands her back her opal tiffany ring. “Stay sharp.”

She hands him back his phone. “You too.”

He strides across the floor, and appears right next to Light. L moves swiftly in his custom leather shoes, but Yagami notices his presence right away, and almost as if by intuition turns right to face him.

For a moment L thinks that he sees something flash in his eyes, but his composed demeanor returns in a second. Light thinks that the man in the fitted navy suit- no, that L Lawliet needs a haircut.

"I'm sorry if I startled you," Light's not startled and L's not sorry. " But I just met Touta Matsuda, and your name came up in passing. I wanted to introduce myself. I am L."

He's tall, and gaunt, and aristocratic, and he looks like he hasn't slept in weeks.

He also thinks that Light looks more like a damn K-pop star than someone who got accepted to Wharton.

"Ah, yes. Matsuda told me about you." It's all a lie, of course. Matsuda never told L about Light, and he never told Light about L, but for convenience's sake they pretend that it's the truth anyway. "Nice to finally meet you."

"How long will you be staying in London?"

" A while. We're here to see through expansion in the country." Light replies amicably.

There's something about Light that L cannot place exactly, something off about his golden boy façade.

L's instincts are sharper than most, if not all in the room and even he almost missed how anger seems to seethe within Light's very core, hidden by carefully constructed layers of charm and professionalism.

He hides it well.

Light's a professional and professionals don't come around very often, but when they do they scream danger danger danger. Light's a professional but L's a professional, and L rather enjoys danger. It intrigues him, and so does Light.

"Do you want a tour sometime?" He offers. "I happen to know some of the best cafés in the area."

He's looking at Light closely, too closely, and Light wonders what he wants.

"Sure, my schedule's pretty open this week while we're still settling in, and it'll be nice to know the place a little better." To know you a little better. It'll be good for Light to have friends in England, and even better if some of those friends are connected to one of the most powerful names in the country.

"Good, we'll make arrangements soon." L says with a sincere-looking smile, and they part ways, L's objective met.

Light meets up with Matsuda, and together they collect Sayu, who's obviously hammered, and is leaning partially on an elfin girl barely taller than she is. In the limousine back to the hotel, they collapse in their various corners, exhausted. Sayu hums a song she heard at the bar under her breath, Matsuda's mentally drained from the boring talk with boring people, and Light's thoughts are filled with, among other more insignificant things, a girl with red lips and redder nails, who carries death in her hands while making veiled threats in a hotel room, and an enigmatic man with a letter for a name.

$$$

Chapter Text

Britain, 10.00 AM BST

To add insult to injury, Light's picture is in a major British tabloid the next morning.

Although, the three of them are still sleeping the travel off, so they don't notice.

Luckily for them, his picture is still in the tabloids the morning after.

Someone's iphone snapshot of Misa pulling Light into her suite consistently makes a section on the front cover, above the caption 'Did Misa's night get a little brighter?', or something along those lines. He also gets articles explaining how he's been secretly seeing Misa in Japan for a while now, and how he's come to London specially to be with her.

Matsuda thinks that it's hilarious.

Light thinks that that it's slander.

Misa has started texting him a series of heart emojis in a rainbow of colors, in a gross misuse of his cellphone number.

As they get breakfast delivered to their presidential suite, Sayu finally wakes up from where, upon return that night, she immediately flopped down on the nearest bed and promptly fell asleep.

It had happened to be Matsuda's. Which was unfortunate, because he had gotten the least sleep of them three on the plane that day, and his neck was still sore, so he couldn’t sleep with Sayu’s fluffy pillows. He had to call room service in the dead of night, to request for memory foam, which made him uncharacteristically petty this morning. He glares at her as she plods to the bathroom to freshen up.She takes off the remnants of her two-day makeup, and wonders how lipstick had gotten on her collar.

Sayu changes into a robe, lays back down under the duvet and sprays an excessive amount of whipped cream on her Belgian waffles, scrolling through the notifications on her phone. She has roughly half a million likes on the photo she took the other night with Kiyomi and the boys, and over a hundred messages from their new group chat. She sends them a selfie in response to Mihael's video of him pushing Nate into the indoor swimming pool, and settles down to eat.

The day passes.

Britain, 11 AM BST

A phone trills, and Sayu instinctively reaches for hers, but Light reaches for his, fully expecting it it to be Misa, again.

Like it has been for the past couple days.

However, it’s not, and his eyes widen.

“Shit!”

“What?” Matsuda asks.

“I forgot that I told the office that we were dropping by today at 12! They’re going to show us around the new building. Bloody jet lag.” Light grumbles from the bathroom, changing out of his shirt and pajama pants in record time. He emerges in a white dress shirt and slacks, and gathers up the papers fanned out over the writing desk.

“Ugh,” says Matsuda, “I was planning on going swimming later.” He gets up from the chair, luckily already dressed in a somewhat-presentable polo. “I’ll call the car.”

Sayu blinks up at them. “Bye.”

“You’re not coming?” Light asks. “Oh, right, we’re already running late.”

He looks at her for a while, thinking. “I’ll send the car over for you sometime around six. We can have dinner, and you can tour the place.” he finally decides, as they pack up and leave.

Sayu sighs, again, at another empty room.

Her phone rings.

 Britain, 11.30 AM BST

“Are they coming?” Matt asks excitedly as the other boys hang up their phones.

“I got Kiyomi,” Mihael says, grinning.

“Affirmative for Sayu.” says Nate.

The three of them are languishing by the indoor poolside, taking advantage of the rest of Wammy’s having class to claim it all for themselves. Ah, the perks of being selected to go for events, free days.

Free days on their own are pretty boring, though, so they’ve invited their new friends over to play. The five of them had really hit it off that day, and they were going to have such a nice time, today. It wasn’t often that Wammy boys made friends outside of Wammys, after all, but when they made friends, they really made friends.

“This is so great,” says Matt, with a genuine smile. “ We can show them around, and we can play polo, or go bowling, or something. This is so bloody great.”
He laughs happily.

The five of them were going to have so much fun, together.

 Britain, 12 PM BST

Sayu texts Light in the car, telling him that she was going out.

It feels weird to have to report her whereabouts to somebody. Actually, no, it wasn’t weird to have to report her whereabouts to somebody, it was weird to actually do it.

You see, her parents, and Light, had been really busy when she was younger, and thus she was raised by nannies, and the occasional secretary. Who usually let her do whatever she wanted, in order to keep their jobs, because Sayu was a sneaky child, who would often fabricate complaints when unhappy. They had to let her do what she wanted, anyway, she learnt from a young age, because she was rich, and high up on the social hierarchy. Therefore, she wasn’t used to following orders.

But things are different, now, she reminds herself. Light is responsible for her, and she had to do what Light says, because he was higher up on the hierarchy than her.

She takes a shaky breath. She’s nervous about doing this, honestly. Not nervous about being in Britain, as she knows Light believes, but nervous about relinquishing her control on her life.

You have to do this, a part of her says, and she nods, her resolve firming. She was going to do this, and she was going to make this work, because she was going to stay in Britain with Light and Matsuda. Because she refused to be left behind.

She would live with empty rooms, but she refused to come back to an empty house.

Britain, 1 PM BST

“Your house,” says Kiyomi, in greeting “Is in the middle of bloody nowhere.”

“Glad to see that you’re charming, as always,” replies Mihael, sarcastically, although he is also glad to see her. He helps her out of her car, and she hugs each of the boys.

“Do you want to see it?” Nate asks her.

“See what?”

Matt grins, spreading out his arms.

“Nowhere.”

 Britain, 1.30PM BST

Linda feels a tap on her shoulder, and turns around to see A, holding out a drink from the vending machine.

“You didn’t have to do that,” she laughs, lowering her headphones, and moving her things so that he can sit on the steps beside her.

“I wanted to,” he says earnestly. “I don’t get to spend a lot of time with the rest of you.”

“Thank you, then,” she says, cracking it open, and taking a swig.

“You deserve it, for doing so well at the event that night.” A tells her. “Not bad, for your first time.”

She nods, and his tone turns lighter. “Besides, you also deserve it, for wearing those hideous headphones that B got you all the time, you’re so nice to not hurt his feelings” He teases.

“Hey!” She protests, laughing. “I like them. They’re Dolce and Gabbana! You don’t understand fashion, Al.”

“True,” he says, getting up, and mussing her hair. “Well, I have to leave now.”

He gives her a salute. “As you were.” he says before retreating back into the main office.

Linda turns back to the foyer in time to see a silver car pull up.

 Britain, 1.50PM BST

Sayu gets out of the car and looks around. The only regular person around, is a girl about her age, sitting on the steps.

Sayu can tell that she’s a regular person, because her clothes are too fancy for her to be working here.

“Sorry?” Sayu asks “Am I in the right place?”

The girl looks up, and Sayu notes that she’s pretty, in a quiet kind of way.
“Depends where you want to be.” She says.

Sayu pulls out her phone, and checks her texts.

“Wammy’s House?” She tries.

“You got it.” says the girl. “Who are you here for?”

“Mihael.”

“Oh.” says the girl. she concentrates for a while, thinking deeply, then says “They’re probably in the bowling alley. I can take you, if you want.”

Sayu brightens. “Sure!” she says, linking her arm through the girl’s. “Lead the way”

The girl looks slightly awkward, but doesn’t comment.

“I’m Sayu,” Sayu tries again.

“Linda,” the girl offers a small smile.

She leads Sayu through a maze of buildings, while Sayu tells her about her version of the Yotsuba event three days ago, and how she had met the boys. When she learns that Linda was there, too, she gasps.

“I didn’t see you!”

“You probably wouldn’t have, i was talking mainly to the Yotsuba designers,” Linda admits, having warmed slightly to Sayu.

They turn the corner, in time to see Kiyomi high-fiving Matt after getting a strike.

“Hi!” Sayu sings, waving furiously.

The rest of them greet her warmly, as Linda turns to leave.

“Linda! no, stay!” Sayu cries, clutching at her arm

“I really shouldn’t,” Linda says.

“Actually, stay, Lind.” Nate says, holding out his arm. “You can play with us, and we can introduce you to Kiyomi.”

The girl in the velvet dress smiles, and waves.

“Okay.” says Linda.

 Britain, 1 PM BST

Light is eating an unsatisfying steak in the office cafeteria, when a familiar face walks in.

“Light!” comes a delighted squeal, as Misa rushes to his side.

Light takes a deep breath.

“What are you doing here?” he asks through gritted teeth.

“I’m here to see Rem, of course, you silly,” she smiles.

Why she felt compelled to wear a black satin minidress to see her cousin, was beyond Light. Yes, Light had done some research to find out who exactly was the leak of info, and realized that Misa’s cousin was the head researcher on the project. That meant, unfortunately, that he couldn’t purge her, and was stuck dealing with her for the time being.

“Have fun then,” Light says, turning back to his meal.

She doesn't leave, and instead sits next to him.

“I thought you were going to see Rem?” Light asks her patiently.

Misa waves her hand “I see her all the time. I don’t see you all the time. Besides,” she leans closer to Light. “We’re Dating! and you’ve been ignoring me,” She pouts.

Light fights the urge to scream. He calms himself down, deciding to handle this in a rational manner. He cuts his losses, realizing that he’s already completed most of the work that he has planned, and decides to go out for lunch, dumping his mostly-untouched steak in the trash, and attempting to ignore Misa.

He makes it all the way to the carpark, and gets into his Mercedes, when his passenger side-door opens, and a high-heeled shoe steps in.

“What are you doing?” He asks, again.

“Going with you.”

Britain, 1.15 PM BST

Misa is very pleased with herself.

She didn’t expect the whole blackmail-light-yagami thing to work, but here it was, working. She was getting a pretty sweet amount of money, and was rumored to be dating Light, an extremely eligible bachelor. This was doing wonders for her reputation. and her bank account. and her ego.

She was even getting, a literal free lunch at a nice restaurant.

She was munching, contentedly on her truffle fries, when Light asks her wearily, “What do you want?”

I want the world, she thinks. She doesn’t say it, but mentally files it away as a potential song lyric.
“Company,” is what she says, instead.

“You can get company, elsewhere.” Light says disapprovingly.

“I want it here.” says Misa, simply, reaching out to touch Light’s hands. He flinches.

At that moment, a waiter brings a Flame on the Iceberg over to their table, setting it down with a flourish, and a bow. Light looks at it with disbelief.

“We didn’t order this,” Light tells the man.

“It was from the man over there, Sir.” the man tells Light.

Light turns to where the man gestures to, and is resigned to his fate.

“Company,” he sniffs.

 Britain, 1.30 PM BST

“Thank you for the Flame on the Iceberg.” Light tells him stiffly.

How cute.

“Oh, the baked Alaska was nothing.” L says, airily. “I saw you both here, and I wanted to say hello! A coincidence, isn’t it? What are you both doing here?”

“We’re on a date,” Misa says, and Light mentally facepalms.

“Congrats!” L exclaims, “The two of you make a wonderful couple.”

Light is very Done. However, he doesn’t show that he is Very Done, and politely says, “Thank You,” again.

L wants to push him to his limit. He wants to see him break. How Light would look like when he wasn’t Perfect.

L drags a chair up to the table, and cuts himself a slice.

Light’s lips grow a millimeter thinner.

 Britain, 6 PM BST

Linda is in love with Kiyomi.

“Somebody got us tickets, and we flew to New York for the show. It was so great,” Kiyomi says animatedly as the others listen. Some crime show plays in the background, neglected.

Kiyomi was so cool, so fashionable and artsy and pretty, like the sister that Linda always wished that she had. Although she was only one year older, she seemed so mature and confident, that Linda wanted to be her.

“Lind got her headphones from there, didn’t you, Lind?” Mihael asks.

“Yeah, B got them last week for my 18th.” she tells him.

“Nice! Happy Birthday!” Kiyomi trills, looking delighted. “Here, have my bracelet.” she slips the silver bangle off her wrist.

“I couldn’t”, Linda protests, laughing. Matt looks amused.

Sayu’s phone rings, and Kiyomi makes use of the distraction to get the bracelet onto Linda, looking extremely satisfied. Sayu answers her call, and then stands up.

“Hey, I gotta run, I’m having dinner with my brother,” she tells the rest of them.

“Sure, but we’ll do this again soon okay?” Mihael hugs her.

“Sayu, wait, you’re going to town right?” Kiyomi asks. “Can I tag along? This place is really,” She shoots a look at Nate, “Out of the way.”

“Yeah, sure, come on!” Sayu pulls her up, and they wave before going.

Mihael turns back absently to the TV, and sees a man get shot by a FBI agent. “What he do again?” He asks.

“He made five people into puppets.” Nate tells him.

 Britain, 7.30 PM BST
The driver drops Kiyomi off at Sayu’s hotel, and she decides to get some stationary for school. There’s a Times round the corner, and she picks up a couple pens and moleskins, when she sees a copy of The Great Gatsby on a shelf.

She’s always been meaning to read that.

She reaches to get it, mentally cursing herself for wearing sneakers instead of heels, when a blue sweater-ed hand grabs it.

“A story about a young, mysterious millionaire, and a beautiful debutante. A thrilling read!” The guy says.

“Do you work here?” says Kiyomi, unimpressed.

“Nah, I had it for school one year,” the guy says. “Read the Wikipedia page.”

Kiyomi snorts. “Someone’s an Ivy League.”

“You’re right, actually!” says the Guy. “and you’re going to King’s, right?”

Kiyomi wonders if she should turn and run.

“Jeez, lighten up,” the Guy Laughs, holding out the book in surrender. “I’m just messing with you. I’m Touta Matsuda, from the Yagami Group. With Sayu, remember?”

Recognition dawns on Kiyomi. “Ohh,” She says nodding “Yeah.” She takes the book, and smiles at Matsuda. “Well, thanks, then. I’ll see you around.”

He nods and picks up his bag.

“Matsuda?” She calls.

“Yeah?”

“Dartmouth, wasn’t it?”

He blushes. “You got it.”

 Britain, 8 PM BST
Matsuda dazedly takes them to have dinner at the same place Light went for lunch.
Ah, the happy memories.

Light pretends not to notice when Sayu gets the Baked Alaska.

$$$

Chapter Text

Britain, 1 PM BST

L asks Light out for coffee.

Light, unfortunately, already has a meeting planned. With his television. It absolutely cannot be postponed.

Light orders food in, and doesn’t leave the hotel at all that day.

Britain, 11 AM BST

L invites Light to brunch. This time, Light genuinely has a conference call, and sends his Deepest Regrets.

Truly.

 Britain, 4 PM BST

Third time's the charm, so on L’s third try, Light finally accepts. He isn’t sure why L is so insistent, but they did make plans, and Light always honors commitments. Besides, this'll be good networking. He still needs British friends.

or “Friends”. Same difference.

Light also accepts because L invites him to go riding at the Wammy Estate, and naturally, Light is great at riding. They used to have a stable rented out in Japan, upon Sayu's insistence when she was going through her 'pet' phase. Light had won many riding competitions. Sayu had not.

Light should get back into practice.

After the one-and-half hour drive, Light finally gets out of the car L sends, brushing an imaginary speck of dust off his Khaki pants. L is waiting for him, already in full riding attire. His wine red riding coat matches Lights boots. Two other Wammy associates are also waiting to greet him, a fair man with light brown hair, and someone who looked like he could be L's brother. Or, at least a relative, Light thinks, because L didn't have any brothers. Not to his, or Matsuda's knowledge, anyway.

"Welcome to Wammys," L grins. "Glad you could make it."

"Thank you for having me," Light says graciously.

"I've invited some other friends," says L, gesturing to the men. "Fellow Wammy alumni. We graduated the same class. Alexander is the heir to WC, and Beyond is a prominent Biomedical Engineer. They wanted to meet you. I hope you don't mind."

"Not at all," Light laughs, shaking the two new hands. Beyond looks very distinctively  preppy in his Burberry coat, while Alexander looks like he shares Light's more classic, understated way of dressing. They'll make good friends, Light thinks.

More importantly, they'll make reputable friends.

Britain, 1.30 PM BST

L gets another call from Aiber. This seems to be turning into a regular thing.

“What happened now?” L groans into the phone.

“It’s not what you think,” Aiber tells him, quickly. “We found something,”

L listens, intently.

Then, he calls Light Yagami. Who seems to be getting more interesting by the minute.

“Hey, Light, do you have anything on today?”

 Britain, 5.30 PM BST

Light cannot believe this- He’s actually kind of enjoying himself.

The English countryside is beautiful, the others provide intelligent conversation, and Light thinks that he might keep in contact with Alexander and Beyond, because he genuinely wouldn’t mind talking to them.

L however, is a different story. Hence, the kind of.

The man is insufferable, always trying to stick close to him, butting into the conversation every five minutes, like a petulant child unwilling to share cookies at the snack table.

Light knows, because his parents once tried to send him to a regular playgroup in Japan, before they realized how horribly-mannered the other children were, and hurriedly pulled him out.

Not that Light was comparing himself to snacks, but still.

He and Alexander were having a wonderful conversation about the sports that they enjoyed (Alexander liked badminton, B apparently liked golf, and Light played tennis,), when L, wide-eyed, exclaimed “I play tennis too!”, turning to ride backwards on his black mare to talk to them while riding in front. Which was not only very show-offy, in Light’s opinion, but very rude, as L then proceed to blather on about tennis, talking exclusively to Light, and ignoring his friends totally.

If Light didn’t know better, he’d think that L way intentionally trying to piss him off. But that couldn't be, because nobody did that.

It must just be L’s terrible people skills then, Light thinks, kindly responding to L while trying to keep the topic open. Still, his arrogance? he needs to get off-

Just then, L, still not looking at the road, manages to get his coat snagged on a branch, and then, very comically, topples off his horse.

Light manages to keep a straight face.

 Britain, 6 PM BST

Kiyomi thinks that Sayu might be the best friend that she’s ever had; and it isn't even just because Sayu keeps inviting her to "test out" the complimentary hotel spa, either.

Although the spa is pretty great. Kiyomi is feeling warm and sated after her massage and aroma steam bath. Her body feels weightless, and it is almost exactly as if she is floating on the Dead Sea. If she closes her eyes, she can almost smell the salt in the air, feel the spray on her shoulders, feel the gentle lull of the ocean. She leans back on her heated lounger, and opens her eyes to see Sayu reading the Spa menu.

"You can't possibly want to go again tomorrow," she laughs, "We've already gone three times in the past week! The rotating staff all know us by name."

"Hey," says Sayu, playfully defensive, raising her voice slightly to be heard over the indoor mini-waterfall, "That's their job. Besides, it's a hotel service, I get to take advantage of it."

Kiyomi can't argue with that logic. Sayu's skin is practically glowing.

"True," agrees Kiyomi, admiring her new nude manicure in the soft glow of the backlights. "It's the hotel's loss."

"Oh, yeah!" Sayu suddenly exclaims "Speaking of the hotel- You left your coat here the other day. The staff dry cleaned it for you. It's in my room. Do you wanna come up?"

Kiyomi scrunches her nose "Really? Which one?"

"The Louis Vuitton Mink."

"Oh, right. Sure," says Kiyomi, "You can finally show me your suite, then."

She knots her robe over her mint bikini, and throws another one to Sayu to put over her one-piece, before they pad out of the spa. Sayu tugs slightly on Kiyomi's arm, using Kiyomi to steady herself. Her steps are slightly unsteady after lying around for most of the day, and she totters around slightly, as if she's slightly drunk. Kiyomi patiently steers the both of them out the door.

They're careful not to step too close to the tranquility pool in order to keep their cloth slippers dry.

 Britain, 6 PM BST

Roger simply adores Light. He tells him about his taxidermy collection, straight from Africa, he says with pride, as the two of them go to collect ice-packs for L’s slightly swollen hand, leaving L, A and B alone in the Wammy infirmary.

“I don’t know, L, “ A tells him, “Light seems pretty swell to me.”

L looks at his hand, and grimaces at A's choice of words.

“Of course he seems swell,” L says, “It’s not real”

A and B look at each other. L does not like how uncertain they look.

“He seems pretty genuine,” B says skeptically.

“He is,” L insists, “but there’s another side to him.”

“Obviously, L!” A cries in exasperation, “You barely know him!”

“Nobody knows him!” says L “His facade is too skintight!”

B wrinkles his nose. “So you’re saying, that you want to weasel into Light Yagami’s circle, by getting under his skin, just to see how he is when he is comfortable with somebody? Whatever for, L?”

“Because it’ll be difficult,” says L, “because I looked into his eyes and I think he’s an interesting person, and because I also want to find something out.”

“Look,” He continues “I got Aiber to check up on the Yagami Group. Apparently they’re working on this top secret project, Project Kira, or something, it's called. I want to know what it is.”

“Um,” says A, “Isn’t Aiber that guy who gives you illegal stock market info?”

“That’s not the point,” says L irritably “I’m not going to bust Yagami, I just want to know.”

“Okay..” B says.

They both back away warily, but not before L hears B whisper something that sounds suspiciously like “L gets the weirdest crushes,” to A.

This was not a crush, L thinks, vehemently.

 Britain, 6.15 PM BST

The two girls are laughing at the scandalized expression a room-service maid makes as the matronly Mexican woman sees them roaming the hallways in their robes.

She's probably used to seeing guests put-together, and smart-looking, working in the more expensive section of the hotel, Kiyomi thinks, sweeping her hair over one shoulder, her usually nimble movements made clumsy by the heavy robe. But, whatever, Sayu practically lived there, they had the full right to do as they pleased.

It wasn't as if anyone else would see them.

"Uptight muchh," Sayu sings under her breath as she swipes her key card over the lock, and opens the door. Both of them tumble into the warm suite, and Kiyomi is impressed, because it's almost as nice as the suite that her father had gotten once in Dubai.

Sayu plops down on the sofa by the window. "This is the living room," she says, "Then there's my room, the other bedrooms, the dining room, the kitchen, the other living room, the bathroom, the media room, the guest room, the study, the gym, and the balconies. You can go anywhere except the study and the other rooms, because the others get real pissy about it." She points to the closet by the door "Your coat's in there."

Kiyomi curls up on the armchair beside Sayu. "Nice place," she says, head resting on peach velvet.

"Sayu, is that you?" someone yells from some room, somewhere.

"Yeah," she hollers back, turning to Kiyomi with her lips slightly parted, "I didn't think anyone was home", she says apologetically.

Matsuda walks through the archway, in an old baseball tee and black Armani drawstring pants, rubbing moisture out of his hair with a small towel. He stops short when he sees Kiyomi regarding him with curiosity.

"Hullo," he says to Kiyomi, sitting down in the last unoccupied seat.

"Hello," Kiyomi says back.

 Britain, 6.30 PM BST

L had made it his life’s goal to get a reaction out of Light. A real reaction.

L has an inquisitive mind, and Light was the most complex puzzle he has ever seen, the man had such a strong control over himself and his emotions, that L wanted to see Light, the real Light, for once. Light is a mystery, and L always fancied himself a detective. He even has an old deerstalker that B once got him.

The real Light would be a great companion.

Not that this Light wasn’t a great companion, it was just that he was too great- too nice, too considerate.

No, L wanted to meet the real Light.

And while annoying the hell out of Light probably wasn’t the best way to make friends, it was fun, and L had a lot of time on his hands. He needed a new hobby, anyway. And meeting the real Light was possibly the first step to figuring out whatever it was the Yagami group was hiding. He had it all planned out: 1) Make Light abandon his composure, 2) Meet Light for real, 3) Figure out the Yagami Secret.

And Light was a challenge, because he was unflappable. L had been subtly pushing Light for the past week, and Light was still so cordial. L had to admit that Light has a lot of self-control. He would have punched himself by now.

However, Light had not only managed to look concerned when L had fallen off his horse, (which was, admittedly not one of L’s finest moments,) but, he was also the one holding the ice-pack to L’s mildly-sprained wrist, looking like one of the doctors from Grey's anatomy- extremely professional, and slightly handsome. Although L knows for a fact that Light took business, not medicine.

L is running out of ideas. He’s already, practically crushed his hand to smithereens, and still no reaction from Light.

So, L does the only thing he can think of.

He grabs the front of Light’s navy shirt, and kisses him fiercely.

 Britain, 6.30 PM BST

“I think that L’s lost it,” says B, jokingly to the rest.

“Why?” says Matt

“Is it because he fell off his horse?” Nate asks

"He fell off his horse?" Mihael asks incredulously.

"He fell off his horse," says B, "Because he's like, obsessed with this guy that he met the other day. It's becoming a problem." He leans in in a conspiratorial whisper. "He's going full Sherlock Holmes on his ass."

There's a pause as the boys digest this new piece of information.

"Damn," Matt laughs " That guy sure is in for something."

"Ellie's first boyfrienddd," Mihael sing-songs.

"They grow up so fast." deadpans Nate. "I remember his first girlfriend like it was yesterday." She had been a runway model that L had picked up from some show- the first of a few others to come, and then go, breezing in and out of Wammys like leaves on the wind. She had bought Nate a puzzle for Christmas, one year. He had really enjoyed completing it.

"Wasn't L's first boyfriend B though?" Matt interjects, looking slightly confused.

"Nah, that doesn't count." says B, "We only pretended to date to freak Roger out."

"Nice," says Mihael, giving B a fist-bump.

 Britain, 6.30 PM BST

Mikami cannot find his watch.

He’s looked around the entire airport, he’s even made a report at the counter, but still, to no avail. He really couldn't understand how he had lost it, he was normally pretty meticulous. It's as if an errant ghost had just breezed by, and plucked it out of his grasp, never for it to be seen again. Mikami now hates the supernatural with a burning passion.

Damn, he thinks. He’d really liked that watch, but he probably wasn’t getting it back now that it was probably lost in an abyss somewhere. He heaves a dejected sigh, and pulls his suitcase over to the front entrance, where his car was supposed to take him to the hotel. Serves him right for being so careless, he figures, adjusting his cuff-links, and buttoning his jacket as he makes his way outside.

At the entrance, several others were waiting, too, and Mikami watches them as he keeps an eye out for his own ride, because there wasn't much else to do. There were only a few people, an Indian couple, a few businessmen, and a pretty blonde girl in a leather jacket and frayed jean shorts, scrolling through a newsfeed on her iPhone. Her phone case is black leather with cluttered metal embellishments.

Mikami remembers that girl from the first-class lounge, where she was carrying a large black suitcase. He also remembers her having way less jewellery on. He also remembers that watch on her wrist.

“Excuse me, Miss,” He calls to her.

She lowers her cat-eye sunglasses, and quickly rakes her gaze over his person, first glancing at his shiny leather loafers, then traveling up his body to look him in the eye. She cocks a single eyebrow, quizzically.

Why on earth was she wearing sunglasses at night? Mikami wonders irritably.

“I believe that you have something of mine,” He tells her, walking over.

“I think you’re mistaken,” she tells him confidently, putting a hand on her hip.

He gently takes her by the wrist, ignoring her protests, and turns the Rolex around, to show the Teru Mikami engraved on the clasp, the cursive letters glinting mischievously.

“No, I’m really not.” he says firmly.

Britain, 7PM BST

"Let me get this straight," Kiyomi says, doubtfully. "You've known him for thirteen years, he's just like a brother to you, and you still call him by his last name?" She leans forward.

"That's what my dad always called him!" Sayu protests "It kind of stuck. Like a reverse nickname."

"That's not all," Matsuda informs Kiyomi, "She also thought that I was her new babysitter. She treated me like a servant for the first few years, until her father found out." He points one finger jokingly at Sayu.

"How was I supposed to know that you were my dad's partner's son? I thought you were some freeloader." She whines.

"Light knew, and he always treated me with respect.", teases Matsuda

"You're only, like a few years older," Sayu rolls her eyes, "and besides, you can't use that example, Light knows everything, he's such a nerd."

"Well, that nerd has been very successful at work lately, and has gotten the entire company's approval. I'll like to know what you have done in the past week!"

"Well, I've bought some clothes, and gone out to see the country!"

They really do bicker like siblings, Kiyomi thinks.

"Basically," Matsuda sums up to Kiyomi, "Sayu has never, in my life called me Touta, and to the Yagami's, Matsuda is my name. Feel free to call me whatever you want, because it doesn't really matter. We're not really used to doing the whole Japanese name thing."

"You can also call him whenever," Sayu stage-whispers with an exaggerated wink.

Matsuda's ears turn red, and he quickly stands up.

"Anyway," he says, "I was going to get room service for dinner. Would you like to stay for some, Kiyomi?"

Kiyomi does.

"I would, actually. Thank you, Touta."

Sayu looks positively delighted.

 Britain, 6.30 PM BST

Light pulls away first, breathless and panting, shirt all wrinkled from where L grabbed him. He looks as if he's just run a marathon. Although L wonders if he should be the one sprinting, away at top speed, before Light finally throttles him.

Although, he does feel that he would rather enjoy doing it again. Kissing Light, that is. L's first marathon was a disaster of epic proportions. Still.

I shouldn't have done that, thinks L, mostly for his own benefit.

"I shouldn't have done that", says L, mostly for Light's benefit.

Light looks at him for a moment, weighing his options.

Then, Light grabs his hair, and kisses back.

 $$$