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His mom refuses to understand why he’s decided to spend Christmas in his college dorms. Light's just gotten off the phone with her for the third time this week, and with each call, she’s grown more and more desperate. He almost changed his mind once, tempted with the promise of home-cooked meals. Light’s parents have this way of coming together in the kitchen. They are fine cooks in their own rights, but when they laugh while they wait for the oven to heat up, there’s something more. Something he does look forward to seeing every Christmas.
“If I had someone who wanted me home this much, I would go.”
A deadpan voice, not exactly drawling, but definitely taking its time with certain syllables. Everyone’s been trying to place the slight accent — there’s even a pool going — but Light believes it’s just laziness that’s transformed into a game. He’s pretty sure he’s doing it on purpose — it’s not always consistent.
It’s Ryuzaki, his roommate.
“Really? You seem more like the type who likes to be unwanted,” Light says.
They don’t really look at each other when they talk. Ryuzaki is glued to his laptop screen, always crouched on his bed, while Light sits properly at his desk. It’s never gotten in the way of them understanding each other. Light knows that when Ryuzaki stops typing after Light says something, it means he found it amusing. When he’s angry or offended, he holds his breath. If he’s not really paying attention, he types through their conversation.
When he doesn’t answer anything, it means he’s impressed, and probably smirking.
They return to their occupations. The phone call had interrupted Light in the middle of his work. He had used his senior thesis as an excuse not to go home, but he does really intend to finish writing it during the calm of winter break.
Studious minutes go by until Light realizes the typing has yet to resume. As soon as he straightens up, Ryuzaki speaks up.
“What do you like about Christmas?”
Light isn’t quite sure how to respond. How does Ryuzaki even know how he feels about Christmas? He hasn’t shown any sign. Unless… Ryuzaki can tell? Light adjusts his notebook. He sets his pencil down along the edge, and turns around to face his roommate.
Ryuzaki’s eyes, expectedly, are still glued to his computer. He’s got one earbud in. Maybe he’s watching something. Maybe he’s ignoring Light. Pretending to be ignoring Light.
Because every December, Light likes to swap his body wash. Usually, he favors something subtle, something soft. But in December, he likes a scent with a bit of spice. It’s festive. It’s fun. It’s still subtle. If Ryuzaki can tell, then he is definitely not ignoring Light.
The truth is that what Light likes most about Christmas isn’t the festivities or the warm feeling some supposedly get from getting to spend time together. What he likes most is that, for one month, he can be a little less serious and people don’t notice.
But there’s no way he’s saying that.
“I just like the hot chocolate.”
It’s obviously a lie. Ryuzaki should know not to pry.
Slowly, Ryuzaki turns his head. Away from the laptop, towards Light. He looks at him for an unnecessarily long moment, then he yanks his earbud out, gets up without saying a word, and walks over to the mess that used to be a desk. He starts rummaging through the drawers, moving everything around, and it looks for a second like the desk will swallow Ryuzaki until the latter emerges, victorious, with a singular packet of hot cocoa precariously dangling between his fingers.
“Let’s go make some, then,” is what he says.
“I—hmm.” The packet is wrinkly. It looks old. Dusty. It’s definitely not festive. “There’s no way that’s going to taste good.”
Ryuzaki looks at the packet curiously. “No? Why not. We can add our own um… Christmas cheer.”
“Christmas cheer? What even—You know what? I’m not going to ask.”
“Hmm… I think this counts as asking.”
“It does not, I cut myself off in time.”
“Oh. I was unaware of such rules.”
Ryuzaki is like that. They’ve been roommates for two years, and Light still isn’t sure whether Ryuzaki is a master of sarcasm, or if he’s blissfully unaware of his… unusual demeanor.
To be frank, Light kind of likes it. He says calmly, “Right. Can you at least check that it’s not expired.”
“The expiration date is… tomorrow. You have quite the remarkable timing, Yagami. Without you, I might have poisoned myself drinking this a week from now.”
Somehow, the fact that Light isn’t sure doesn’t get in the way. If Ryuzaki can say things like this, Light doesn’t see why he should hold back.
“Okay, why don’t you shut up. There’s a microwave in the TA lounge. We can use that.”
It’s freeing, being able to say things like this around Ryuzaki. Because Ryuzaki just goes on as usual. He asks offhandedly, “Microwave?”
“Surely you didn’t intend to make this with cold water?”
“I… no. Of course not.”
“You’re disgusting.”
“I think that your assessment is a bit harsh.”
“Well why don’t you add some Christmas cheer to it? Then perhaps you’ll find it more palatable.”
Ryuzaki smirks. Light is pretty sure that Ryuzaki smirks. Eighty-five percent sure.
Then Ryuzaki leaves their room, and he makes his way to the TA lounge without checking once whether Light is following. He guesses correctly which cupboard contains mugs, and sets two down on the counter. Then, he retrieves a small bag of marshmallows from his pocket.
Ryuzaki is already opening the bag to pour its contents in the first mug when Light asks, “Why do you have marshmallows in your pocket?”
“I believe a better question would be: why does Yagami not have marshmallows in his pockets?”
“Pockets?”
Ryuzaki fishes a second packet from his second pocket to address the second mug, and suddenly the question loses its meaning. There is really no sense to be found with someone who carries marshmallows in both pockets of their jeans.
Light chooses to watch silently as Ryuzaki splits the packet of hot cocoa between the two mugs. The thought strikes him that there has to be less cocoa than marshmallows in Ryuzaki’s recipe, but what is there to be done. Then Ryuzaki adds tap water from the sink, Light cringes, and both mugs go in the microwave at the same time without so much as a stir.
They are in there for two minutes when a suspicious noise makes Ryuzaki take a look.
“Ah. Well… Watari must not have used this recipe.”
Light walks over to stand next to him so he can take a look himself. Trying not to laugh, he asks seriously, “Did you know marshmallows could explode like this?”
Ryuzaki returns his deadpan tone. “I did not. I am now fully convinced extraterrestrials are real, and they came down to earth to tamper with this device.”
“You know, I’ve been convinced they’re real for a while now, seeing how you are one.”
“I beg your pardon?”
“I knew it! You’re just British, and you’ve been faking some weird accent.”
“Untrue. My accent is from Uranus.”
Light stands there, lost for words, for a solid ten seconds, and then, he can’t help it, he laughs. He laughs and he laughs, this is the stupidest joke known to man, but coming from Ryuzaki, there is no way around it, it’s hilarious.
There’s marshmallow stuck all over the roof of the microwave and chocolate leaking down the sides. The TAs are going to be furious and there will be a reward for whoever snitches on the two undergrads who defiled their microwave. But Light is bent over holding on to his knees and Ryuzaki is smiling from ear to ear. He makes no attempt to clear up the mess; he holds out one of the mugs for Light to take, and takes his to the couches. Once seated, he takes a sip, and says, “I like this.”
Light follows him. “The chocolate?”
“You. Like this. I don’t think I’ve ever heard you laugh this much.”
The softest of pinks tints Light’s cheeks, and he briefly looks at the couch opposite Ryuzaki’s before sitting down next to him instead.
They look at each other, Ryuzaki still smiling and Light still blushing, and they take their time surrounded by the comforting scent of hot chocolate.
Resting his mug gently on his knee, Light says, “You didn’t ask me why I stayed. Why I didn’t go home for the holidays.”
“Why did you stay?”
Light can see, on Ryuzaki’s face, that Ryuzaki already knows the answer. That Ryuzaki is curious above all else, and that he would have asked if he didn’t already know. Because, it’s always been obvious, L has boundless interest in the things he likes, and now, it’s rather clear, he likes Light.
Light likes him back.
“I stayed for you.”