You Can't Really Save Me

II: Sleepy Decisions

     The room is sizable, but feels small with the lack of decor.

     Ordinarily, one would think such a thing would have the opposite effect, but the simplicity of the furniture makes the room shrink in on itself. On the northernmost wall sits a desk, dark oak with three drawers and one overhead cabinet, with a rudimentary black office chair pushed up under it. A laptop screen glows blue atop the polished wood. There is a bathroom to the east; the door is pulled shut. Inside, it is a standard room akin to one found in hotels; there is a shower, which can doubles as a tub, and there is a nice porcelain sink and toilet in the corner. A large mirror reflects the room back, complete with lights studding the frame for added effect.

     The bedroom is scarce in added decorations, sporting only a painting of a seascape on its southern wall, where the bed is. The frame is mounted squarely in the middle of the wall above the headboard, though Light notices it is slightly askew, and his nose wrinkles disapprovingly. He half drags Ryuzaki as he kicks off his shoes and climbs onto the bed to straighten the photo.

     A nightstand sits beside the western side of the bed, a bland accent piece standing in its center. An alarm clock flashes 2:30 A.M. in red numbering.

     After Light is satisfied with the frame's orientation, he allows himself to recline on the mattress, though it isn't as firm as he would like it to be. It is soft, memory foam, the kind that sinks under his weight and melds to his body shape. He much prefers a more stiff mattress to sleep on.

     Ryuzaki is ambling towards the desk, yanking their chain to the full length but finding he cannot comfortably sit down with his arm outstretched behind him. He will not ask Light to move; the young man is almost asleep by now, disappearing into the pillows as they exhale under him. Instead, he takes the laptop, kicks off the desk, and rolls the chair over to the west side nightstand, replacing the vase of flowers atop it with his computer. Now, the chain dangles loosely over the edge of the bed, and both Light and Ryuzaki have space to move as they would like.

     Hours pass and Light is fast asleep, snoring lightly as he shifts according to his dream. Ryuzaki is still awake, eyes baggy, and he types away on his laptop, analyzing photos and recordings of the Yotsuba group and then contrasting them with stocks, sales sheets, and victims of Kira. He has been doing this for far too long, and fatigue gnaws at his bones. He yawns; his eyes droop. His irises shift to Light, who is on his side, far to one side of the bed. It has been some days since Ryuzaki has slept, and he figures it would not be terrible to let himself get some rest tonight. Besides, if Light is Kira, the wiretaps on his computer will pick up any sound from his movements - the turning of pages, the scrawling of pen on paper. Ryuzaki has all fronts covered.

     Sighing inwardly, he picks himself up off the chair, scrambling to the corner of the bed where Light is not. Curling in on himself so as to take up as little space as possible, Ryuzaki resigns himself to the mattress, heavy eyes falling shut and sleep taking him near-instantly.

     The clock flashes 5:47.