Heartstrings or Handcuffs? (L x Light)

Well, He Did Fuck Me

As I step out of the school building, children rushing around me, I look up to the roof...up towards the sky. The sheer face of the building pierces the blue at a pristine ninety-degree angle. A cloud passes overhead, but its shadow doesn't fall on this part of the earth. I can feel the stretch in my neck muscles. I don't know why I do it, but I stand there looking up. And then I stop. I turn and face forwards again and begin the long walk home.

Ever since that phone call with Misa Amane, or perhaps ever since I found that false bottom, I feel like I've been piecing together these infinitesimal cookie crumbs—a flash of L's face devouring sweets comes to mind—of...gaps in my memory. There are things that don't sit right with me. Little things like school days that seem shortened or so many days spent in a stressful investigation with a serial killer on the loose that are incongruously...uneventful. For instance, I was handcuffed to L for days but nothing happened? And yet, it was in that same timeframe when he was as incapable of escape from me as I was from him that he closed the case of the century? And I don't remember anything happening.

Am I supposed to believe that?

Well, he did fuck me. I remember that. My hand flexes on the strap of my schoolbag.

I pause in my steps.

At the end of the walkway leading off school grounds, a black car with an ostentatious, overlarge chrome grill idles on the road. None other than Watari stands there, holding the rear, passenger's side door open. He gestures to the empty seat visible within, and he seems to be looking at me.

I begin walking again at my usual measured pace. There's no need to rush.

It takes maybe just half a minute to reach the roadway and a conversational distance with Watari, who is still holding the car door open. I pause, hesitating, and look to Watari. Am I just supposed to blindly climb in? Watari says nothing, and I glance over my shoulder in the insane chance that he's waiting here for someone else to get in the car. A small grouping of girls has stopped on the school's main walkway and is staring at us with wide eyes and whispering to each other behind the cover of their hands, but it seems obvious that Watari and L would never wait for them. In reciprocity, it also seems obvious that the girls are intimidated by the dark figure Watari cuts against the unusual luxury vehicle in a trench coat and fedora, like some detective from a noir film, and would never approach either L or Watari, never want to be waited on by them-

That gives me pause. Do I want to be waited on by L or Watari?

...Yes. If I'm ever going to fully understand my lapses in memory and what happened with the Kira case then L and Watari, aside from Misa, are my main leads, particularly L. They are also less risky leads to pursue. By associating with individuals who cooperate with law enforcement in fully legal capacities, I am not putting myself in any sort of untoward position. Whereas, by associating with Misa, if I somehow outwardly appear that I'm getting in too deep, I could be implicating myself as...well, something I don't want to implicate myself as at least. If Dad or Mom figured it out, that certainly wouldn't be pleasant, even if no one accused me of being the original Kira, like Misa has.

I turn back to face Watari with a frown. "Watari," I finally acknowledge him, attempting to get some clarification on why he's standing here, obviously waiting to drive someone somewhere, possibly—no, probably—me.

"Yagami-kun," Watari answers with a deep bow at the waist.

I wait for another moment, but he volunteers nothing else. Even if he offers no clear invitation specifically for me, neither does he offer a clear rebuke for me so presumptuously approaching the vehicle. From that alone, I can surmise that I am—without a shadow of a doubt, so to speak—the intended occupant of the backseat of this vehicle.