Chapter 3
To delay the inevitable, Light stopped by the cafeteria and ate a quick dinner, since it was nearing mealtime. There wasn’t much in the cafeteria that appealed to him, but he found that a small salad, a bag of chips, and a side of fresh fruit were enough to sate his hunger for the time being.
Once he got back to the dorm, Light took a deep breath before opening his door. He was not looking forward to this exchange.
Ryuzaki stared at him as he walked in. “You did not respond to my texts?”
Light cast a glance at him as he strode across the room to sit at his desk chair. In stark contrast to his side of the room, Ryuzaki’s area was no tidier than it had been this morning. Light had hoped that the mess was just from the move, but it seemed Ryuzaki did not care for tidiness. Light would have to do something about that.
He noted that the cake was, in fact, gone, but the baguette was entirely untouched.
“Oh, you can’t pull that on me,” he all but sneered as he reopened his laptop and found his document. “You left me hanging all summer.”
Ryuzaki explained, “As I said, I do not like the user interface on the app.”
“Yeah, well, sucks to be you then.”
If Ryuzaki was going to be so disrespectful, then Light could be, too. He had tried to be cordial over the summer, tried to start a friendship, so that the roommate situation might not be so bad. Light put in the effort, and Ryuzaki was too late in deciding to care.
“What are you doing on your laptop?” his roommate asked curiously. Light simply glared at him.
In response, the odd man crossed to the other side of the room and perched next to Light at the foot of his bed. He tucked his legs up near his chest and rested his chin on his knees, placing his hands over his bare feet. Light turned to look at him, sliding his chair back, because he was not used to such an intrusion of personal space. He’s sitting on my bed and he doesn’t have socks on. He slammed his laptop closed.
“What is your major?”
Light sighed. “Forensics and psychology. Will you get off my bed?”
“My major is mathematics,” Ryuzaki answered, wide eyes staring intently at Light’s face. He was moving his feet rhythmically, Light noticed, almost the way somebody would anxiously bounce their knee or twiddle their thumbs.
He’s twiddling his toes, Light thought with the oddest mixture of bemusement, disgust, and intrigue.
“Cool, I don’t care,” he said, finally managing to stop looking at his feet. He made sure to wrinkle his nose in disgust, just so Ryuzaki wouldn’t get the wrong idea. As if his words left anything to be imagined.
Ryuzaki’s eyebrows came together in concern and confusion. “You are… very rude,” he said, as if just noticing. His eyes narrowed and he looked suddenly much less comfortable on his roommate’s bed. Had he been under the impression that they were on good terms?
Light rolled his eyes. “And you’re very white. What’s your point?”
“I assume you mean my… complexion?” he tilted his head to the side, not expecting the response and not understanding its relevance.
“No, your fucking t-shirt. Of course I mean your skin. You’re a white guy and your name’s Ryuzaki?”
At first, he had leaned back slightly at the harsh language, but by the time Light finished, understanding dawned on his face. “Ah! I see. Well, my grandfather is Japanese. I was named in his tradition,” he explained. He leaned forward and seemed to forget for a moment that he was anxious and uncomfortable. “What is your family name?”
“Just shut up and get off my bed!”
Ryuzaki scurried off the bed, hunching his shoulders in response to the raised voice, and went to sulking in the corner of his own bed. He pulled his laptop closer to him and sat in dejected silence.
~
L curled in on himself as he reviewed the most recent case Watari had been kind enough to send him. It took him all of five minutes of review before he typed out a response to Watari detailing who the culprit was, how he committed his crimes, and how best to catch him. He left a script for Watari or Near or Mello to read out to the authorities of France, where the times took place
It was much to his chagrin that Watari would not even permit him to reveal the solution himself.
Another simple case solved. L flicked his eyes up to his roommate across the room. Yagami Light, who had seemed so ideal before. He baked, at least, and that’s all L had paid any mind to.
He was, first of all, disappointed. He had tried so hard to be… nice. Friendly. Granted, he had no experience with friendliness in general, so he was undoubtedly rusty, but he wasn’t that bad, was he?
Next, he was embarrassed. Light had been rude since the start, he could see that now. But It took him until just a few moments ago to realize it. All the while, L was still trying to be friends. He had thoroughly embarrassed himself.
After processing this embarrassment (which took a few moments and quite a bit of thumb biting), the redness in his mind shifted darker, like pitch, and swelled as anger inside him. He rubbed his right arm.
What a shame, truly.
The characters inked into his skin, about halfway between his wrist and his elbow, only stood to mock him. He felt almost like he could see it through the fabric of his thick white shirt. The character for ‘moon’ or ‘light’ written in neat Japanese penmanship. The odds that his mark referred to anyone other than the boy sitting across the room were astronomically small.
Ah, well. It was his own fault for getting his hopes up that he would meet his soulmate, fall in love, and live a happy life. He was L, the world’s greatest detective. His track in life did not include conventional romance and love.
He had made it this far without his soulmate. And if his soulmate was Light Yagami, the absolute bastard a few meters away from him, then he could more or less happily continue on without him.
If Light was intent on being so unpleasant, L could too. He made sure to add extra spring to his fingers as he typed on his keyboard, pleased with the resounding clacking sound it made.
~
Early the next morning, Light woke uneasily and prepared for his first shift at work. He had difficultly falling asleep the night before, because he couldn’t remember the last time he slept with someone else in the room. Especially not one who stayed up all night basking in the blue light of a laptop scene.
It was still dark out, but it felt wrong to turn the light on at five in the morning, even if he knew he wasn’t going to be disturbing anybody. Ryuzaki was awake already – if he had actually fallen asleep at all.
He dressed in the bathroom, making sure he was presentable enough for his first day, and left the room without a second glance at Ryuzaki.
The shop wasn’t open when he got there, but he could see someone moving around inside. The bakers had to get in early so they could set on the fresh batches for the breakfast rush that morning. He had been told to arrive even earlier than that to get the swing of things; he would be training under the manager, whom he had yet to meet.
The door was locked, so Light knocked on the glass and peered inside. The figure moving about in the back approached the door and unlocked it.
Looking back at him was a tall, pale woman with platinum blonde hair and a scowl on her face. Was he not a morning person, perhaps? There was also the possibility that she just looked like that.
“Light Yagami?” the woman asked. She had a smooth, commanding voice.
“Yes,” he said curtly. “I didn’t show up too early, did I?”
“Certainly not. Follow me.” She led him inside. “I am Rem. You will be working under me for the duration of your employment.”
“You’re the only manager?”
She nodded. “We are a small business. There is the owner, Miss Misori, who interviewed you. There is Misa Amane, who I believe you also met. She’s solely a cashier. We have a dishwasher, Ryuk, who you will meet later today. And now we have you, who will do a bit of everything, so I’m told.”
“I believe so,” he replied. “I’ve been baking for years.”
Rem began to show him the ropes of opening the bakery, getting on the fresh batches of cakes, pastries, and breads, and making sure everything was in order by the time it opened at seven.
Rem was not an old woman – she might have been in her early thirties on the high end – but she had a calm, mature presence. She held herself with the assurance of someone who would not be bothered by anything or anybody.
Having observed people for years, Light knew that this kind of assurance was a mask.
Half an hour before the bakery opened, the door opened again with a ring of the bell. Light sent a glance through the window between the kitchen and the front of house to see that the same small blonde girl, who must have been Misa Amane, bounce through and hang up her coat.
“Hiya, Rem!” she called cheerily. Light turned just in time to see Rem’s face shift ever so slightly before she schooled her expression again – was that the hint of a smile?
“Good morning, Misa,” Rem answered pleasantly. “How was your night?”
Misa sighed as she checked in at the register. “Ah, you know. I stayed up pretty late working on that one project that’s been bugging me.”
“Is that the sustainability thing?” Rem was just finishing preheating some ovens for the next batch of baking, so she left the kitchen to join Misa in the front. Light hung back and finished some dishes while he listened.
“Yeah, it’s really hard to make trash bags flattering, you know?” Misa laughed. “At least they come in black! Can you imagine how ridiculous I would look wearing a white trash bag?”
Rem made a noncommittal noise. “I still don’t understand why you always use yourself as a model. Isn’t it more difficult to… secure things?”
There was the distinctive ring of the register as it was opened. Misa must have been taking inventory of the cash. “It’s nothing compared to trying to sew a trash bag together with reinforcement about the bust.”
The conversation went on much in the same manner. Light deduced that Misa and Rem were close, and Misa worked on some sort of fashion projects. Perhaps fashion merchandising at university.
Once the most recent batch of blueberry pastries was done cooling, Light followed Rem’s previous instructions and decorated them with the fresh fruit and custard topping, then carried them out to set in the front. The moment he walked through the swinging door to the front of house, he was assaulted by a loud gasp.
“It’s you!” Misa gleefully and abrasively screeched. Light fought the cringe that threatened to creep up on his face. “You’ve been hired! Misa is so glad!”
At the use of third person, Rem narrowed her eyes, picking up on something Light tried his hardest to ignore.
Two hours after the shop opened, the back door to the kitchen swung harshly opened. “Good moooo-ooorning!” a ragged, sing-song voice called out.
Light turned to see a tall, gangly, shaggy, pasty, and overall rough looking figure grinning at him. The smell of pot wafted heavily from his wrinkled grey clothing and greasy hair.
“Shower before you show up next time, eh, Ryuk?” Rem quipped as she instructed Light on the proper cake decorating technique.
“Who’s the new blood?” he grinned at Light, baring yellowed teeth. His entire personage made him look older than he was. Light wondered how somebody could possibly go out into public looking and smelling like this.
“This is Light. Light, Ryuk,” Rem introduced curtly. “Behave, Ryuk, we don’t want you scaring away another one.”
“Pleasure to make your acquaintance, Light-o,” the man smiled impossibly wide and bowed dramatically as he caught the rag that Rem tossed at him.
“Get to work,” she ordered, but Light could tell she was not quite so stern as she tried to sound. The two evidently had a good relationship.
After cake decorating, Rem had Misa instruct Light on how to use the computer system and other policies of front of house. The entire time, she gave him thinly veiled compliments and flirted so overtly that Light struggled to keep the disturbance off of his face.
He did not like it when people flirted with him. Especially not women. He didn’t identify with a specific sexuality; he wasn’t attracted specifically to men or women, or anybody for that matter. The closest thing would be the idea of his soulmate. When he thought about finding his soulmate, no particular form came to mind, but the feeling of comfort and sincerity made him wish to finally meet this LL.
He absently touched his wrist, which he had hidden behind two translucent gloves.
At the end of his shift, Rem pulled him aside.
“Misa is becoming infatuated,” she began bluntly.
Light was caught off guard for a moment, surprised by the subject and by the candor. “Is she?” What did it matter if she did? Light would prefer they all just ignore it.
“Do you have any interest in her?”
He tried not to wrinkle his nose, because he was almost certain he would offend Rem. The woman was obviously very protective of her. “She’s, um, not my type.”
Rem almost smiled. “You into boys?” she said crudely.
“I’m not really… into anyone, really. I mean, I’ve never met the right person.” He figured Rem would appreciate the honesty and see through any fabrication. He didn’t want to be on her bad side. She was his manager. And, he hated to admit it, but she intimidated him.
She allowed herself an almost gloating smile. “Ah, you’re one of those types,” she said mostly to herself. “Waiting on the one. Let me guess, Misa doesn’t have the right initials?”
“I’m not interested in Misa,” he said firmly, not elaborating any further.
“You best not lead her on, then,” Rem warned. “Misa has an addictive personality. Give her the chance, and she’ll become obsessed. That’s not good for anyone of us. I love the girl, but she can get herself into a fair amount of trouble.” The last part was mostly said under her breath.
Rem loved Misa? Light contemplated what exactly she meant by that. Romantic love? Sisterly? Platonic? Either way, it didn’t matter to him. He was going to steer clear of the noisy blonde as much as he could.
“Do you understand?” Rem asked. “Whether you’re interested in her or not, you’d better not break her heart. I’d have little patience with that.”
“I understand,” he assured. “Trust me, I’m not interested in Misa. I’ll make sure she knows it too.”
He turned to leave, having already clocked out, but he felt a cool hand on his shoulder. “You will not be rude,” Rem told him. “You will be as considerate of her feelings as possible.”
“Sure.” With that, he waved goodbye to Ryuk on his way out, merely nodded to Misa, and made his way back to campus.