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Summary
It was different.
No.
Strange?
Light didn't know. Usually his brain would conjure up multiple scenarios, carefully thought out ideas and he'd pick the smart out of it, and take action. And somehow he was always good with it. Just incredibly brilliant by default.
To someone like that, L's actions must be clear. Because he usually read L so well. And vice versa.
Yet now, as L's hands press and poke his sole, and the rain drops slide off his droopy-now-but-otherwise spiky hair, onto Light's feet, Light doesn't know what to think.
