ℕ𝕠 𝕛𝕦𝕤𝕥𝕚𝕔𝕖 𝕗𝕠𝕣 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕡𝕖𝕒𝕔𝕖 - H&S

Watari wasn’t terribly concerned about the ice cream. If it fell, he could get a refund easily enough, and L wasn’t going to get mad or anything like that. He was far more likely to look like a kicked puppy and say it was fine than he was to yell at someone. Some people might have thought Watari was being taken advantage of, but the older man knew better; he wasn’t being taken advantage of so much as he was simply taking care of his adopted son. Because L may have been the greatest detective in the world, but he couldn’t even eat properly without help.
Being talked to like a person was new to Watari. He didn’t mind being left in the background, and honestly he enjoyed it, but he had to admit that Nico was making him feel more appreciated than anyone but L had in years. He didn’t have to like being in the spotlight to appreciate being seen, after all. He looked at the boy, and he was tempted to tell him to go ahead and eat his ice cream before it all melted, but he figured it was better to wait until they were all seated before anyone started digging in. They would probably need something to distract them when they got into everything that they were going to have to talk about.
It wasn’t all getting to know each other, after all. They were here for a far more serious reason.
“Mostly highly technical objects, used to make various missions go more smoothly.” He replied. They were nearly to the table now, and L was waiting patiently, looking a bit surprised that Nico was indeed speaking with Watari. The older man smiled, because L looked pleased as well as surprised, and it was a sweet expression.
Whether Watari had pressure on him or not, it was certainly a different kind than L had. He was mainly there for L now, not because he couldn’t do anything else, but because he cared about the young man more than he cared about anything else. He’d been around L since the detective was four years old and orphaned.
Perhaps being underestimated was better. No one expected great things from Watari, because no one seemed to see him as much of a person in his own right. He was L’s butler to them, the old guy with an ice cream cone. He was aware of that, and honestly it didn’t bother him as much as one would have expected it to. He knew L didn’t see him that way.
Nico was right about everything that was said here going straight to L later. Watari would never have pretended otherwise, and he trusted Nico to understand that that was how it worked.
This was an investigation, after all.
They arrived at the table, and L accepted his slightly disastrous ice cream cone happily. Watari took a step back, giving the two of them some room.
“All right.” L spoke gently, but not like he was walking on eggshells. More like he was trying to figure out the best way to go about this. “So. Tell me, what do you know about your father’s activities? Please list anything you can think of.”
-
L watched as Orpheus looked away from his stare. Which was by no means uncommon. Few people actually managed to meet L’s intense eyes for very long. He waited patiently as Orpheus invited him in, which was unusual considering L was a complete stranger to him…unless, of course he wasn’t.
Orpheus might know who he was and why he was there already. In which case, there was no point in pretending otherwise, but of course L had to play the game, or he’d lose before he could so much as blink. Orpheus may have been a terrible liar, but there was also the distinct possibility that he was simply overconfident.
That was fine. L could work with that.
He waited patiently for Orpheus to throw away the evidence. It was infuriating that he was doing it so brazenly, but of course, L couldn’t do anything about that just now. He would just have to build his case without whatever it was that this man thought would do him in.
“Thank you.” He replied, carefully stepping inside as Orpheus invited him in again. He half expected some sort of trap, but of course, Orpheus wasn’t likely to do something quite that obvious. He was too careful for that, too subtle. And as long as they were playing the game, L knew what he was doing. “Tea would be nice.”
As long as they were playing the game, L would have the upper hand. So many criminals thought they were smarter than him. He was used to overconfidence.

In this case, Nico happened to be right. Watari wouldn’t have minded being more specific about his inventions, but there were a lot of them and it would have been hard to pick one to talk about. Besides, he knew they weren’t here about his inventions, and there was no use getting too distracted. Even if he knew that was what Nico probably wanted.
Trust has nothing to do with it. Watari didn’t trust or mistrust Nico, he simply...respected him. The same way he respected everyone else, even criminals. That wasn’t to say he wouldn’t shoot them from a helicopter if necessary, but he didn’t need to hate them to do that. Watari hated very few people in the world.
He would have been amused to hear how Nico thought of talking to the two of them, but he wouldn’t have said Nico was incorrect. L and Watari just didn’t have secrets from each other, not because they couldn’t, but because they didn’t see the point. Watari was, for all intents and purposes, L’s father. And the only one who was anywhere close to knowing him, the real him, not the bite and pieces the government cared about.
Nico probably knew that talking to Watari meant telling L everything that was said. Watari could have told him that, but he didn’t, because he thought Nico probably knew it. And if he didn’t, well...he would find out, wouldn’t he?

Now that they were here, it was time to actually get down to the problem at hand. L watched Nico prod his ice cream, helping it stay put and not drip onto the table. L’s own ice cream cone was also melting, so he sucked at the melty part, the sweetness of the strawberry and the sweetness of the vanilla mixing together to make a very sweet, creamy taste. He watched Nico carefully, watched as he played with his ice cream, and he didn’t speak because it wasn’t time for him to talk yet. It was Nico’s turn first, so he could say what he was going to say and L would do with it what he could.
It was perhaps a sign of how desperate he was that he was coming to Nico. Because really, if he knew anything, would Hades have let him go? But there was always the possibility that Hades didn’t know that his son knew something important, and L had to lean on that possibility, because otherwise he was going to have to admit he was running out of options. He didn’t want to do that.
He listened as Nico began, and nodded simply, accepting that the information might be outdated. That was fine. He could work with that, as long as it was accurate, which he expected it was. Nico was a great many things, but a liar? L didn’t think so.
He nodded. He knew what work Hades did, but he appreciated the details. He licked his ice cream cone and waited for more, because he could tell Nico wasn’t done yet.
The next part was very interesting. Hades didn’t want Nico overhearing anything, hm? He could glean quite a bit from that, though he’d already suspected as much.
“I didn’t think you did.” He said patiently, then fell silent again, listening calmly. Nico was telling the truth, he could tell that much. Nico also might know something important, something Hades hadn’t wanted him to know...that was good. That was a lead, which L desperately needed. He didn’t look at Watari, but he could feel the older man beside him, listening to the conversation while L did the talking.
“Please continue.” He said, licking his ice cream as it began to melt. He had to eat it fast to avoid it getting everywhere, which was a problem for him, as he didn’t typically eat very quickly.
Never mind.
He licked faster.
-
L took a seat as requested, looking remarkably calm under the circumstances of his visit. He was only here because the man who was busily making them both tea was probably a murderer, probably wasn’t even really Orpheus. L looked around the house, noting where everything was, and the way it seemed to have fallen into some disrepair. As though the current owner wasn’t taking as good care of it as the last. And yet, it didn’t look too bad, suggesting that the change in ownership had happened fairly recently. Interesting.
L turned his attention to Orpheus. He seemed completely absorbed in his work with the tea, not at all attentive to the stranger in his home. Of course he was. He knew who L was and why he was there, and he was throwing it in L’s face. And L hated him for it. He hated that it was so easy for him, and he hated that he clearly thought he had this covered. Well, he didn’t. And there was no way L was going to lose.
He made a note of where the tea was, how the stove worked, everything. That was quite literally his job, after all. To miss nothing. To take it all into account.
And, most importantly, to be right.
He noticed that Orpheus seemed to be making one…two...three...five? Different types of tea. Which seemed excessive, considering they were the only ones there. What could he glean from that? What did it say about Orpheus?
He actually wasn’t sure. He filed the information away for later.
The tea looked good. L, too, could tell it wasn’t ready, but it was going to be soon. He considered the tray in front of him, then looked up at Orpheus, raising an eyebrow conspiratorially.
“This looks amazing.” He said, truthfully. He realized, of course, that Orpheus was probably about to ask him what he was doing there. He had an answer, too, though he wasn’t sure how he was going to play his cards just yet. Carefully. Very carefully.

L had assumed that Nico wanted as much information as he could get, simply because that was what he would have done in the boy’s place. He assumed that Nico was piecing everything together slowly but surely, and though he doubted Nico would be able to find much, he assumed the boy was trying.
What he didn’t account for was the fact that Nico wasn’t him. Nico was his own person, and if he didn’t feel like getting to know L was particularly useful to him, that was his choice. L wouldn’t have made the same one, but that hardly made any difference. He should probably have made less assumptions, but in his defense, he was usually right.
L was looking forward to asking Watari what Nico had said when L wasn’t there. He was curious to hear how it differed from what Nico said to his face, even if the kid knew that everything he said would find its way back to the detective in the end, sometimes his choices would change depending on who he was taking to. Perhaps he wouldn’t think Watari was paying as close attention (he was) or that Watari would miss something (he wouldn’t). He watched Nico, licking his ice cream cone rapidly to avoid it slipping from the cone.
He didn’t know whether Nico would end up being useful. He didn’t know, but there was only one way to find that out, and it wasn’t leaving Nico alone. So he had to ask, didn’t he? He had to try. Otherwise he might never crack this case, catch whoever it was behind it. It was probably Hades. But he didn’t know that for sure yet, so he couldn’t make a move, not until he was over 95% sure at least. Only then could he decide to act. Only then could he take the culprit down, and make sure they never got up again. It wasn’t harsh. It was just his job.
L listened to Nico carefully, making mental notes of everything he said. Because every single thing could be important, everything could make or break this case, and he wasn’t going to let a single thing slip away. He watched Nico carefully, too, watched to see whether he was lying, even though he didn’t think the chances of that were high at all, less than 1% actually. But he had to be sure, and so he watched and didn’t look away, not even when his ice cream began to drip down the cone and to the ground.
“Fascinating.” He murmured, tilting his head to one side. “The date in particular. I’m not surprised to hear he was talking about gravestones, but to whom, I wonder? Not his usual clients, no. Not anyone you would recognize on the street. In which case...this has nothing to do with his job at all.”
His ice cream fell off his cone and hit the ground with a wet thunk. He looked down in surprise, then stared at it thoughtfully for a few moments before looking back at Nico.
“Yes, that’s possible.” He agreed, eyeing the boy with an expression that could only be described as respect. “The majority of people, even adults, fail to recognize their own blindspots. I’m impressed that you not only discovered yours, but told me. I’ll take it into consideration.”
Well, even more than he already had, anyway. He’d obviously already thought of that, but there was no harm in being reminded.
“Can you think of any other times he mentioned that date in particular?”
-
L didn’t realize he was being helpful, in this case. He was just speaking the way he always spoke; slowly and thoughtfully, which happened to be quite clear. If he’d known, he could have spoken even more that way, but he didn’t, so he spoke normally.
Of course, since he’d learned to speak in an environment where not everyone used verbal language, and even then might struggle keeping up with a fast speaker, it wasn’t too surprising. Wammy’s house had plenty of deaf children, children who used sign language for other reasons, and children who simply struggled with things the majority of people didn’t find challenging. He himself had struggled with speaking to anyone at first, and had spent the majority of his days in silence, conversing only when absolutely necessary, or possible. So it was no wonder he spoke in a way that someone hard of hearing would be able to understand with ease.
He watched Orpheus in the kitchen, his wide dark eyes missing nothing besides the obvious. Orpheus didn’t seem at home with this kitchen. He didn’t act like he’d lived here for very long, and yet the records clearly showed that Orpheus had been here for a very long time. Could it be that it was because he hadn’t been using this kitchen as long as Orpheus had? The way he moved was slow, unsteady. It was like he didn’t recognize this place at all.
Could it be that he didn’t?
L was no optimist. He thought the worst of people, typically, because that was what he saw. He saw their flaws, the ways they were broken, the ways they hurt others. He saw their desperation and their pain, and he didn’t often see the other side of the equation. When he did, well. He didn’t often pay attention to it, truthfully, because it wasn’t very useful for solving cases.
He didn’t notice the mark on the ceiling. Instead, he simply watched as Orpheus poured the tea, and murmured a thank you, reaching to choose from the variety available.
He continued as Orpheus introduced himself and posed his very reasonable question. The question of why he was there in the first place. Should he easy enough to answer, right?
He began to make himself a cup of rooibos tea as well, filling his cup only halfway full. Then adding sugar cubes, slowly, as he spoke.
“I’m a detective.” He explained, his voice low and smooth, though of course Orpheus wouldn’t know that. “I’m investigating a crime nearby, though I can’t give you too many details other than that. I suppose I’m what you might call a private investigator, and I’ve been hired.”
He paused. His teacup was now half tea, half partially dissolved sugar cubes, and he hesitated before adding one more to the pile.
It fell off.
L didn’t pick it up. He was looking at Orpheus, and now a tiny smile ghosted the edges of his mouth. “I’m Ryuk. It’s nice to meet you, Orpheus.”

It was true that Nico was probably going back to Wammy’s house after this, although L didn’t think of that as a bad thing. He hoped Nico didn’t, either. But it wasn’t like there were a lot of options.
He was not, after all, here to make a friend. He was here to get information for a case, nothing more, nothing less. He hoped Nico understood that, but he has to be prepared for the possibility that Nico would get upset when this was over. Actually, he had to be prepared for the very likely scenario that Nico would get upset long before then.
Maybe the ice cream would help. It always helped him feel better, after all. Or maybe that was one of the things Watari called his “quirks”.
There was a cost to surrounding yourself with the worst people in the world. L knew that. There was a reason he didn’t trust, a reason he was careful about where he went, what he said. There was a reason his passwords were all unbreakable, and his security was among the best in the world. L was a celebrity and a shadow, both known and unknown. And that was how he preferred it to be.
Nico was absolutely right about that. L and Watari would both be watching him closely, waiting for him to say something that counted as a lie, because that was what they were good at. It was what they were used to, people lying, people saying things just to get the detective off their back. People didn’t like L because his job made him irritating at best, downright dangerous at worst. People didn’t like L because he was not a likable person, he was rude and blunt and he said things most people would never say. That was why he wasn’t surprised that Nico seemed wary of him. He expected that. He would have been concerned about any other reaction.
“Does he?” L commented, less of a question and more of a statement. Then he blinked, caught off guard by the offer. “Ah. No, no that won’t be necessary. It was my fault for dropping it.”
He glanced at Watari, who raised an eyebrow. Some silent communication seemed to pass between them, and then L turned back to Nico, apparently satisfied by whatever he had gained. “Never mind the ice cream. I’ll get more later. What were you saying?”
He listened to the boy’s answer to his other remark, and nodded, approval bright in his eyes. “That’s true.” He confirmed. “I’m glad you agree. That makes everything much easier. So you know that it’s likely your judgement is colored by the fact that the suspect is your father, yet you still want to help if you can.”
He tilted his head, thinking about it. “Well, we’ll need to find something that won’t be colored by your perception, then. Such as inescapable facts. Please tell me everything you can remember. Even a tiny detail could prove to be essential.”
He fell silent then, thinking. “Figurative.” He muttered to himself, and now that his ice cream was gone, he began to eat the cone. “No, that doesn’t make sense. Why would it be figurative? Unless….”
He hummed, clearly lost in thought. Then he focused on Nico again with an intense stare and spoke quietly, but firmly.
“Please be completely honest. Can you remember any other dates? Numbers are extremely important.”
He hesitated. That wasn’t entirely true, there were more important things, but he wasn’t sure he wanted to show all his cards just yet. He knew Watari agreed with him there. It was prudent to keep his options as open as possible this early in the game.
But he did need information.
“Is there anything else you remember? Anything at all?” He pressed against last, leaning forward and giving Nico an unblinking stare through dark, intense eyes.
-
L, as a matter of fact, was fluent in sign language. Another gift from his time at Wammy’s, and even how time spent watching from afar, as a newly minted adult. Sometimes he caught himself running through the alphabet when he was by himself, and sometimes he signed along with his speech out of habit, because that was life at Wammy’s for you. You either could talk to half the kids, or you couldn’t.
He had decided that he could.
So he spoke quietly and slowly, his voice low but clear and easy to understand. Easy to lip read. He would later be glad for this habit, when he knew, but for now he didn’t even think of it, he was so absorbed in watching Orpheus’ movements, his mannerisms, the manifestation of his entire personality. You could tell a lot about a person based on how they drank their tea. If you happened to be L, anyway.
The problem was, L couldn’t see those memories. All he saw was a kitchen, and a man who didn’t look like he was used to using it. All he saw was Orpheus’ hesitation, the way he paused as though he didn’t quite know where everything was. As though he hadn’t cooked here before. L’s sharp eyes saw a great deal, but they missed things, too. Important things.
And right now, all he was seeing was what he expected to see.
L remembered things, too. He remembered being little, and running around, and he remembered the good moments when Watari had become like a father to him, someone who could protect him from the monsters he was so sure were going to eat him. There were monsters everywhere, under his bed, in his closet, hiding in the attic...monsters he had no way of fighting.
The monsters had killed his parents. That was what he’d been so sure of. He’d been positive that was what had happened, and no amount of gentle - and less than gentle - persuading could convince him otherwise. Watari had tried, but eventually he’d given up and merely began to protect L against the “monsters” he swore were there, just barely out of sight.
He knew better now. He knew the only real monsters were people. He knew his parents had been murdered, and he knew that Watari had taken him in on the assumption that it would be temporary.
He gazed at his “tea” (it was mostly sugar now if he were being honest), lost in thought. What memories did Orpheus have? Were they as mixed as L’s were?
Or was Orpheus a monster?
He didn’t say anything for a few minutes, instead taking a sip of his tea and then considering it, wondering whether he should add more sugar. He decided against it and took another sip.
“Thank you.” He said finally, looking at Orpheus again. His expression gave nothing about his thoughts away. “This is a bit embarrassing, but the truth is, I have nowhere to stay for my investigation. I expected to be able to stay at a hotel, but there’s none that wouldn’t attract unwanted attention. Do you have any rooms you wouldn’t mind my presence in for a while?”
Bold was one word for it. They didn’t know each other at all, and Orpheus would be wise to say no to such an obvious approach, especially one he could refute with no consequences. Any normal person would say no immediately, and maybe tell L to get out of their house for suggesting it, but he was betting on Orpheus’ desire to play his game dangerously. He was betting Orpheus would say yes, in an attempt to prove how confident he was.

L couldn’t blame Nico for getting upset. This was a very personal case for him, after all. It involved his father, and that meant it involved him, and what had L done? Nothing helpful, to be sure. He’d just dragged Nico further into this, told him his father was in trouble, and not offered any sort of payment except for ice cream on the house. He thought he was probably a terrible person, but that didn’t surprise him. He’d already known that.
He hoped Nico didn’t hate him too much when all was said and done, but if he did, well...L was used to that, too.
It was also possible he’d never know whether Nico was angry or not. In which case, he would probably assume he was, as most people would be under the circumstances. He almost glanced at Watari, who was better by far at telling what people were feeling, but he kept his dark eyes fixed on Nico for the time being, because he didn’t want to miss a single twitch of a muscle. Anything could be telling, after all.
He knew there was a lot more emotion involved for Nico than for him. That was just how this worked. L couldn’t get emotional, he couldn’t get attached, and he must never, ever, care. Those were the rules.
He broke them a lot.
Because, in the end, L was no less emotional than anyone else was. He just didn’t show it the same way. He didn’t tend to laugh and cry like most people, he stayed quiet and focused when others yelled, and somehow, ever since he’d been a kid, his face just didn’t do expressions the same way other people’s did.
He raised an eyebrow, and smiled. “True enough.” He agreed, taking another small bite of his cone. It tastes just as good as his lost ice cream, after all. “At least scones don’t melt.”
He didn’t look at Watari again. They’d communicated all they needed to for now, and he was focused on Nico completely. He saw a flicker of something pass through the boy’s eyes, something that didn’t make sense to him, and he wondered what he was. Anger? Resentment? He paused, trying to figure out where that had come from.
In the end, it was probably because L was trying to get his father arrested. That would make most people experience negative emotions.
“That’s understandable.” He said simply, and if he was disappointed, it didn’t make it into his tone. “Many people struggle with numbers, more than facts, words, or even sentences. If you ask the average person to recite a sentence back to you, chances are high that they will succeed. Those chances dip significantly if you change it to a series of numbers. You weren’t even expecting to need to remember these numbers, so it’s not surprising that you’re unable to recite them. I merely had to ask.”
He stopped rambling when Nico spoke up, and he listened quietly, interest bright in his eyes.
This was good. This was exactly what he’d needed. Hades’ vulnerability, something he’d missed...something he hadn’t thought to protect himself from. He’d covered his tracks well (if he was guilty) and L needed a trap door. A way inside.
“Thank you, that’s extremely helpful.” He said quietly. “I can’t tell you the details, for obvious reasons. But you may have given me all I need to know.”
He hesitated. “Is there anything else you’d like to tell me?”
-
L’s tea wasn’t as warm as Orpheus’ was, simply because of all the sugar added to it. So he couldn’t have used it to warm his hands, even if he’d wanted to.
As it happened, he was much too focused on the other man at the moment to want to do anything else. Orpheus had his undivided attention, as, he expected, the man knew. It was a game between the two of them now, and L wasn’t going to lose. Looking at Orpheus, he wondered what kind of person rested behind those almost haunted eyes, that closed expression. He couldn’t help wondering how many times Orpheus - no, the man pretending to be Orpheus - had done this before.
Chameleon. That was what he was. Only it was people he shifted into, changing identities like colors on scales.
He did wonder at the state of the house. It was...well…a mess, to put it bluntly. Why would an imposter leave the house a wreck? To throw him off? To make it seem as normal as possible?
Well, if that was the case, Orpheus had overdone it. It had gone past normal messiness all the way to concerning. Or maybe that was just L and his immaculate apartments and desks. They were going to have to meet in the middle a little bit here, he decided, if they were going to make it out with their sanity intact.
Orpheus was right. L was here for a very simple reason, and that reason did not involve friendship. It did not involve getting to know Orpheus as anything but an opponent. And it certainly did not involve L caring about Orpheus’ problems. Everyone had problems. L only cared about one thing: who was guilty and who was innocent. That was all he needed to know to do his job.
Orpheus wasn’t the only one who’d been a curious kid. L had been too, although he’d been more cautious, more afraid of the dark and spiders and, of course, monsters. He’d been afraid of heights and tight spaces and he’d even been afraid of the sound of his own voice. If they’d met as children, perhaps they would have been good for each other. Orpheus to encourage L’s bravery, and L to offer a shade of common sense to anything they did.
But they hadn’t met as kids. So that hadn’t happened.
Orpheus was uncertain.
It was obvious in his tone and his expression, and L found himself drawing back internally. He had to bite back the urge to apologize, because that wasn’t helpful at the moment, and he had to sit and wait expectantly, as if his request had been perfectly reasonable. Which they both knew it wasn’t. They both knew the only reason L would want to stay here was to keep an eye on Orpheus.
At least, L assumed they both knew that.
What will you do, chameleon? He wondered internally. Throw me out? You could, and you’d be perfectly within your rights. But you won’t. Because you want to keep me close as much as I do you. This is a game that takes two players, and you know it.
There was a pause. L knew it was uncomfortable, but he didn’t care, because he was waiting with baited breath to see what Orpheus would do. Whether he would take the bait. The smartest thing would be to tell L to get out right now before it was too late, but there was a reason L had asked so forwardly.
He was being proactive. He was daring Orpheus to be as bold as he was.
He took a sip of sugar tea as he waited, pretending not to notice the pause, the way Orpheus seemed to fumble for words. Orpheus was either actually taken aback, or he was a good actor, L decided.
Then Orpheus made his move.
“Your room?” L repeated, and his eyebrows went up. That was...not what he’d been expecting. Staying in the guest room would have made much more sense, and he could see from here that there were two rooms. As far as he knew, Orpheus lived alone. So why not offer L the room with the least information in it?
He paused, thinking it through. If Orpheus offered his own room, there had to be a very good reason. Such as….what?
L was confused. L hated being confused.
But for now, he was going to have to work with it. He nodded simply, clearing his expression of anything that might give his cards away too soon. “Thank you.” He said sincerely, sipping his tea again as though this really were a normal conversation. “I don’t need anything but a place to stay at the moment. I’m in your debt.”
He didn’t understand why Orpheus would sleep on the couch, either. Why not protect whatever was in the guest room, that he apparently didn’t want L to see? But he didn’t ask, because that would be pushing his luck too far, and he didn’t want to get himself thrown out before he’d found anything out. He knew how to press just hard enough to get answers, without pushing his targets to desperation. This was a time for subtlety.
And he was good at that.

L didn’t realize Nico felt anything negative towards him. That was the problem with not being able to read people well, is you never knew whether someone actually hated you. Did Nico hate him? It would be understandable if he did, the detective knew that, because he was getting in the way. He was making things harder because he was going after Hades. Not that he felt guilty about that. He knew he didn’t have a choice.
He also knew that being the next L was a lot of pressure on the kids. How could he not know, after everything that had happened? After BB?
No, L didn’t think he was better than anyone else. He knew he was different, but then, no one was exactly the same. So maybe that wasn’t all that impressive.
He looked at Nico, raising an eyebrow. He didn’t intend to come across as stuck up, if that was what he was doing. He just meant to let Nico know that he knew what he was doing, and that meant that he needed to seem competent. So he had to explain how he knew things, right?
He was probably overthinking this.
He tried to stay objective. He really did. Sometimes though, it was entirely too difficult not to care. Sometimes he had to care, and he just had to figure out how to work with it, instead of against it. It wasn’t possible to always shut your emotions down, nor was it healthy. L had learned that he could be objective in a case and still care. He used his emotions to help him, he used his gut feelings to aid his mind, and though he never relied on feelings alone, he knew he wouldn’t be nearly as good of a detective without them.
He knew it wasn’t fair. He knew none of this was fair at all, and there was nothing he could do about it. Nothing besides chase Hades down, in spite of how unfair that was to Nico. In spite of everything.
L took another bite of his cone, chewing thoughtfully. He did know enough to know that Nico was upset. Probably about his father, which was understandable, though L couldn’t do anything about it.
He nodded, agreeing. “Some people struggle with memorizing exact phrases.” He agreed. “Others find that easier than paraphrasing. The human brain is quite complex, and varies drastically between individuals.”
He glanced at Watari suddenly, as though remembering something important. When he looked back at Nico, he looked a little more serious.
He was glad Nico had decided to be honest with him. It was helpful. It meant L didn’t have to push things too hard, and it meant he could focus on other things, like what the information meant. Which was what he really wanted to be thinking about. Watari was reminding him that he needed to concentrate on the task at hand, though, and so he focused on Nico, eyes bright and intense.
“Thank you for your honesty.” He said, dipping his head. “Your information will be very helpful.”
Then he tilted his head slightly, as if thinking about something interesting.
“Did you have any questions for me?” He asked. Watari probably wanted them to get a move on things, and truthfully, so did L, but he wanted to give Nico the chance to ask some questions too, if he wanted that. He was a curious kid. Surely he wanted to know something about the detective he was supposed to aspire to be like.
Then he nodded. “I’ll tell you what I can.” He promised. “When it isn’t confidential anymore. I understand. I’m curious, too.”
-
If L had been anyone else, the tea would have tasted awful with that many sugar cubes. But L had very unique tastes, and to him, it was perfect.
He didn’t think about whether it was rude or not. He didn’t tend to wonder about those things. Maybe it was because he wasn’t used to needing to, or maybe that was just who he was, he didn’t really know. But it didn’t cross his mind to think about it.
And anyway, L wasn’t there to be polite. He was there because Orpheus was a suspect, and he knew it. He was there because he was making his move, he was putting his life at risk to stop someone very bad, and he knew that he might not be able to walk away. Even if he never walked away, though, he knew it would be worth it. If he could stop this person from hurting anyone else.
He sipped his sugar-with-tea, savoring the sweetness on his tongue. Yes, he was unusual. Yes, he knew that. But he didn’t care. Because so what, if he could do his job right? What did it matter to anyone how he did it?
He watched Orpheus, carefully. He didn’t want to play his hand too carelessly, but he needed to do this quickly, to make sure the other man didn’t slip through the cracks of the investigation. Thankfully, he was used to doing this by now, and he thought taking down Orpheus would be no different.
He was careful. But he was also reckless.
L’s job, of course, paid very well. Orpheus didn’t know that of course, but maybe he would suspect it if he thought about it, because L had told him he was a detective, and that was almost the truth. He was a detective.
He also thought Orpheus knew damn well who he was. He didn’t think about offering to help pay for things, and he didn’t think about offering to help clean, and if this was going to happen, he was probably going to be a very annoying guest. Not that he was here to make friends, but the thing was, even if he was trying to, he probably wouldn’t have offered those things. They just didn’t cross his mind.
If L had been able to see into Orpheus’ head, he would have apologized for getting it all so wrong. But he couldn’t, so all he did was continue on with the investigation, continue on and ask for lodging in this stranger’s home, in his own bedroom. If L had been anyone else, he would probably be too embarrassed to continue. But he was L, and to him, this was just another case. Nothing unusual. He’d see worse.
At least he didn’t expect much from Orpheus, in terms of hospitality. If he was right, Orpheus would be trying to throw him out as quickly as possible. If he was right, Orpheus’ had no reason not to despise him, no reason not to try and get him killed, even. It would make sense.
It was what L was expecting.
Oh, this was getting interesting.
L knew he was going to need to get into that room and look around, and quickly, before Orpheus could move everything and cover the evidence. He nodded, accepting, but his mind was buzzing and he intended to figure out exactly what was in that room. Tonight, if possible. If not...as soon as he could, then.
He could hear the tense edge to the other man’s tone. He could see it on his face, the strain he was trying to hide. He was surprisingly easy to read.
Or L was wrong. But that didn’t happen. Right?
“Thank you.” He murmured, sipping his tea. “You’ve been very kind.” He wasn’t actually sure what else to say, because he had expected more...resistance. It was making L uneasy.
It was like Orpheus had planned for this.
He tilted his head slightly. “I don’t really have anything to move in.” He said, shifting in his crouch on the chair. His fingers tapped the table absentmindedly, and his eyes didn’t seem to need to blink, they were so focused on the other man. Trying to figure him out. Trying to see what made him so sure of himself, and yet so good at pretending he wasn’t.
Well, at least he had some boundaries. That was a good sign. L forced himself to relax, his pale hands coming up to rest on his knees. “No, company wouldn’t be bad.” He agreed, tilting his head the other way. Like he knew a secret. “I haven’t had any company in some time. It would be...refreshing, if you wouldn’t be bothered by my presence. However, if I annoy you, please tell me and I’ll go back to your room.”
He said it all with the same, matter-of-fact tone, as though reciting something hebee told.
He blinked as Orpheus laughed unexpectedly, and he raised his eyebrows, not even attempting to hide his surprise. “In that case.” He said after a moment, thoughtfully. “I don’t suppose there’s any shortcake around here somewhere?”

And L was willing to listen. L was willing to let Nico ask his questions, and he was willing to answer them as honestly as he could. It was the least he could do, after Nico had been so helpful with his case. Even in spite of the fact that the main suspect was his father.
What would L do if Watari was under investigation?
He looked at his handler, and his handler looked right back at him. Reading his mind, as always. Watari understood that L had to put himself in other people’s shoes in order to understand and capture them, and in this case, it means imagining the unimaginable. Watari, imprisoned.
Watari, not there.
He shook his head slightly. What Nico was going through, while different than if Watari were under investigation, had to be incredibly hard. Harder than a kid should have to handle.
L discovered he hated the people who had done this to him.
It wasn’t that he didn’t expect great things from every single kid at Wammy’s House. It was just that he thought they needed room to be kids first. They deserved that much, didn’t they?
He wondered what Nico would ask. Would he ask about the case? Something else? Maybe he had questions about his own situation at Wammy’s House…which, while understandable, would be difficult to answer honestly. Because L, though in charge for the most part, simply didn’t have time to know the situation of every child who came there. He made a point to know their names at the very least, and he tried to keep up with the files, but there was a reason Roger and Watari were there.
He blinked. That question had not crossed his mind. What was his favorite sweet, anyway? He considered the query seriously, as seriously as if it had been relevant to the case, and finally answered. “No need to apologize. My favorite sweet is baklava. I had it first on my third birthday. My parents made it for me.”
He hadn’t intended to give that much information, but he didn’t see what harm it could do, either. What was Nico going to do? Lure him to his death with a plate of baklava?
“My favorite case ever solved….” He continued, thoughtful. “That is an interesting question. I would have to say..,my favorite case was the second one I took on, before I had my rules. I would take on any case that sparked my interest, then. And this one certainly qualified.”
He leaned back, finishing his empty cone in one bite, and focused his attention on Nico. “There was once a kid in Wammy’s House. We’ll call them X. X had always wanted to be a pilot, and had a room decorated like the sky, with clouds on the walls and a blanket with airplanes on it. They came to Wammy’s because they saw things that no one else could see, and their parents wanted them to have the best chance they could have. They were a genius with math, and there was no one who could beat them, which quickly went to their head, of course. They were only ten years old, after all.”
L paused. He enjoyed telling stories. It wasn’t something he got to do often, but he enjoyed it.
“I’m sure you’ve assumed they had schizophrenia. Most of the people at Wammy’s did. But that wasn’t the case, and I’ll tell you how I figured it out.”
“One clue was that they never saw things that were impossible. They were always saying they saw people with dark masks coming for them, or they saw someone on a roof when no one else could. They never saw aliens or flying pigs or anything like that. So I begin to wonder, what if everything they said they saw, were true?
That was when I begin to watch them closely. They were often in their room, but sometimes they would come out to talk to people or okay games, and other times they would sit alone, staring off into space. So one day, I joined them.”
He smiled. “I sat there for four days, neither of us saying a word, while they completely ignored me. I probably looked insane. But I didn’t believe that insanity was something to be looked down on and belittled, I believed that sanity and insanity were a spectrum, and we all have a bit of each inside of us. So I didn’t mind that.
Finally, four days later, they spoke to me. They said, ‘why are you still sitting here?’ And so I told them that I believed they’re not seeing things that aren’t there. I explained that everything they claimed to have seen was perfectly plausible, and it wasn’t good detective work to assume they were wrong.”
“They were, naturally, surprised to hear that. I made sure they understood that it was still possible that they were seeing things that weren’t there, and they were much more willing to work with me after that.”
He took a breath. “In the end, there were people after them. They had seen something happen that a nearby gang wanted to silence, and they were seeing the attempts of their life, not hallucinations. I arrested the culprits personally, and X is now a pilot, and owns their own private helicopter. They’re the one that taught me how to fly one.”
He smiled. “That’s my favorite case, because it’s one of the few that had a completely happy ending, and also because I learned to never make assumptions with no evidence. That lesson has served me well.”
-
L could have ended this, right there. He could have thanked Orpheus for his tea, but told him as kindly as possible that he had changed his mind and wouldn’t be intruding any longer. He could have, but he didn’t, and not because he knew what he was getting into. Because he didn’t believe a word Orpheus had said. He took everything he heard and first assumed it was a lie. Then he worked backwards to prove it. It wasn’t probably the best strategy, but he was so convinced he was on the right track, that he didn’t wonder about the way Orpheus tended not the meet his eyes.
Or rather, he did wonder about that. But he had been around enough liars to think he could spot one from a mile away. He was usually right, too.
He sipped his tea, not quite putting it down before he spoke again, because it didn’t occur to him that he should.
He didn’t plan on being a thorn in Orpheus’ side, not in the way he was thinking, anyway. He planned to find out what was going on as quickly as possible, before more lives were lost. He planned on being done by the end of the week, perhaps. Then he would file the case away with all the others, and though he would never forget it, he wouldn’t think about it much, either. There were simply too many cases to muse on them all. He had a few favorites he liked to revisit in his mind sometimes, but other than that he kept his eyes forward, onto the next case, as much as he could.
He couldn’t know what Orpheus was going through. He couldn’t, because though he’d lost his parents, he’d been very young and hadn’t felt the same pain he would have felt as an adult. Not that he didn’t feel the pain, it was just...different. The closest he could have come to imagining it would be to lose Watari, and of course, he didn’t think to imagine that now.
“I see.” He said, nodding. “That’s good of you.” He was glad he’d gotten into this house so easily, though of course that had been the plan. How could Orpheus refuse him when he made a point to be so forward? And besides, it was always good to keep your enemies close, where you could keep an eye on them.
He didn’t blink. What he did own, he wasn’t bringing here, of course, leaving him with next to nothing. He had his computer (one with nothing much that Orpheus could hack even if he did somehow make it past the impossible security) and he had a couple changes of clothes, which Watari had packed for him. But that was pretty much it.
“Thank you, but I do have a toothbrush.” He said simply. “I have a bag, with clothes and a toothbrush in it. Really, that and my computer are all I need. If I require anything further, though, I will let you know.” He hoped he wasn’t being rude. He hadn’t really ever gotten the hang of social interaction, and though he hardly needed it now, Orpheus’ kindness was making him want to be as pleasant as he could. He didn’t have to hate someone to take them down, after all.
He sipped his tea again. The sugar had cooled it down quickly, and it was getting cold, so he started drinking it a bit faster. “Well, in that case, I’ll do my best not to be annoyed.” He assured Orpheus, smiling a little. “And I’m sure we’re just fine. After all, most of my time will be focused on my suspects, and I’m sure you have plenty to occupy your own time with. We probably won’t even see each other much.”
That was a lie, at least, partially. L planned on seeing a good deal of Orpheus, but Orpheus might not see a lot of him. He would have to bug this house for when he was out, as he was sure Orpheus had surmised already, and though he didn’t take his eyes off or the other man, he was thinking of all the places that might be good to hide them.
You’re awfully worried about being a good host, aren’t you? He mused, turning that over in his head. What was he so concerned about, if he knew that L was here to stay? Was he simply playing his part? Yes, that had to be it, he was putting on the act of the conference host, and doing a good job of it, too. L knew he was lying, and had trouble seeing it in his eyes.
He blinked as Orpheus immediately reacted to his request for shortcake. What was with that? He looked...afraid, maybe. Like he hadn’t expected that. Maybe he thought L was just trying to get him out of the house so he could investigate in peace...but no, it wasn’t possible for him to stay in the house all day, he must have known L would be left alone at some point. So what was he so concerned about?
L didn’t know. And that unsettled him.
He decided to try an experiment.
“Certainly.” He said, and took a pen and small pad out of his pocket, then scribbled down a couple words, tore out the page, and handed it over. “Thank you. You’ve been most kind.”
On the paper was written angel food cake.

It wasn’t surprising that Nico couldn’t read what L and Watari were saying. They had known each other for a very long time now, and they could read a glance between them as well as any spoken word. If it occurred to him that it was rude to have conversations that Nico couldn’t understand, he gave no indication of it.
The truth was that he didn’t expect Nico to notice in the first place. If he’d known, maybe he would have acted differently.
“Really? You should. It’s delicious.” L sounded surprised. Which was, of course, because he was in fact surprised. He supposed it shouldn’t really have been surprising that Nico had never had that particular sweet before, but he couldn’t imagine never having tasted it, much the same way he couldn’t imagine eating like most people did.
He wished Nico had a better family. He deserved so much more than Hades, he deserved people who loved and cared for him, and he didn’t deserve to be treated the way he had been. Still, L knew he was better off than he was, now that he was at Wammy’s. Hopefully he would be able to stay. Hopefully….
He shook his head a little. What was more important than the baklava was the story he had told, a story he was rarely asked for, and even more rarely told. It was no secret of course - there were records of it for one thing, and he had told the tale before - but rarely did he tell his side of it. The parts that made it memorable to him personally. The parts that never needed to be told in a report or for a case.
The parts, he suspected, that would stick out to Nico the most.
He knew the story was clouded by how he saw things, but he didn’t see why that should have been a problem. He actually thought Nico might like it better that way, just because he would be able to get a better picture of how L’s brain worked.
“My rules…?” He said, and for some reason he was surprised that Nico had thought to ask. “Mm. I have a few.” He raised a finger. “One: I only take cases that are worth over a million dollars involved, or that have at least ten victims. This is of course because I couldn’t possibly take on every case, and there are a few that the police can handle, which means it would be a waste of time for me to take them on.”
He raised another finger.
“Two: I don’t get emotionally involved. Doing so would interfere with my ability to think clearly, and to solve the case as quickly as possible. Of course, this is not always possible to avoid, as the human heart is quite impossible to control. However it’s more possible for me than it is for nearly all the rest of the human population.”
He didn’t elaborate. He supposed Nico could as if he wanted to know more.
He smiled back, a small, pleased expression. He was glad to see Nico coming out of his shell a little. “Yes, it is.” He agreed thoughtfully. “I suppose it is cool. Useful, too, although it’s only rarely that I have the opportunity to use that particular skill. Still, it’s quite helpful in a pinch.”
He tilted his head slightly. “I suppose it’s a bit dangerous, but not incredibly so. Driving a car is dangerous too, and yet people insist on doing it. Danger is unavoidable. The only thing you can do about it is choose which danger is worth it.”
That was how he thought about it, anyway.
He considered the next question, carefully. Did he think that? He thought about the kids that were there, and he thought about who he would pick to replace him, were he to die that night. Was there anyone who would be up to the challenge?
“I believe they will, yes.” He said slowly, quietly. “I don’t know who yet. And even if I did, I couldn’t tell you, out of respect for their privacy. However, I believe that when I die, there will be someone there to replace me. And life will go on.”
-
Was he right about that? Was Orpheus correct in thinking that L was a good man?
He would have said no. He was not a good man, he was simply an intelligent one. He lied and tricked people and though he did it for the sake of justice, he himself broke the law sometimes in doing it. He made hard decisions. Sometimes, he made decisions that were cold and harsh and that would have made most decent people flinch away. So, no, he didn’t consider himself a good man, but eventually perhaps he would be touched to learn that someone did.
He watched Orpheus, and sipped his own tea as well, drinking the last of it. He wasn’t stupid - it seemed like he might be, drinking from the enemy’s cup and all - but he wasn’t. He just thought it was unlikely that Orpheus would pull such an obvious murder when it was clear L was here on his own terms. Doing so would have been downright clumsy, and this killer was anything but. Look at the explosion. Look at the deft cleanup. The lack of evidence was evidence in and of itself, because it spoke of how well he had covered his tracks.
He watched Orpheus, and he slowly put his cup down. It was empty, after all. He lowered his eyes for a moment to consider the last remnants of undissolved sugar at the bottom, then leaned back, placing his hands on his knees.
“Yes.” He agreed. “That would make the most sense, I think. I’ll put my toothbrush in there shortly.” Was it weird that Orpheus didn’t sleep in the Master bedroom? It was certainly worth noting, although in truth, L had already taken note of it. Interesting that Orpheus wasn’t attempting to hide it, though how he would have pulled that off was a bit dubious. Maybe he had decided it was better to play L’s game and be obvious.
He didn’t ask. Not yet. Soon, he would have enough evidence to pin Orpheus down, and then he would use all he had gathered to make his case.
His smile wasn’t intended to be disarming. It was more reflexive than anything else, a simple expression he didn’t bother guarding, because he didn’t think it could betray him. He didn’t think about staying. He thought about nothing but the case, because Orpheus was nothing but a suspect and he would be done and move on before the other man knew what hit him. That was the plan, anyway.
“Yes, probably.” He said, tilting his head slightly. Did he want to find a job so as to be away from L more? Or was it simply what he thought the real Orpheus would do? Did he think he was being subtle? Was he even trying to be subtle, or did he prefer the more upfront approach?
He knew who L was, of course. He knew what kind of trouble he was in. So what was he trying to accomplish? Did he hope to be able to throw L off the scent that easily?
That was futile. L had Orpheus right where he wanted him, and he wasn’t letting go. If Orpheus knew who L was, then he should have started to panic right about now, and hopefully start making some good mistakes. If he did, it would be even easier to prove his guilt and get justice for the real Orpheus.
Yes, that was the best scenario, however he would settle for a long game if it came to it.
He watched Orpheus closely as the other man rose and began to rummage in the drawer. He tensed slightly; even if he didn’t believe Orpheus would be brave enough to pull a gun on him, his body didn’t always agree with his head. His eyes didn’t move from Orpheus’s form, and his fingers curled around the handle of his cup, ready to throw it if necessary.
Then Orpheus turned and presented him with a key.
“Ah.” He said, relaxing. Of course. He shouldn’t have been so concerned, he knew how this worked. The imposter would do everything in his power to make himself seem genuine, then, when he was desperate, he would reveal his true colors.
L accepted the key and dipped his head. “Thank you, I appreciate that.” He said sincerely. It would be very helpful to have access even when Orpheus wasn’t around. Perhaps especially so.
He did wish he had more tea. He looked at his empty cup, then shook his head slightly. He was a liar, yes, even a killer perhaps, but he saw no need to be rude.
At any rate, it seemed Orpheus to be quite committed to seeing to his needs. Was that something the real Orpheus had done before his death? Or was that an invented trait? It was nearly impossible to tell, though that didn’t stop L from trying his hardest. Maybe eventually he would unravel what was real and what was a lie.
He watched Orpheus closely. Did he look surprised? Yes, there it was - a flash in his eyes.
He knew surprisingly little about deafness, however he thought he knew enough to know that if Orpheus had misread him, he wouldn’t have been able to tell that the two words were not one and the same.
Right?
He nodded seriously. “Yes, I’m quite sure, thank you.” He said calmly, as though he’d never said anything else. “You’re very kind. I appreciate your hospitality.”

L, of course, noticed the smile. It softened the boy’s face, giving him a gentler look, less nervous and more friendly. It was a good look on him. Perhaps even, in some universe, a natural one.
L was definitely not like most other adults. He couldn’t really have articulated why, but he just wasn’t. Perhaps it was the way he always seemed to do things a little bit differently than everyone else. Maybe it was the way he sat and the things he ate and the dark circles under his eyes and the way he spoke so every word was articulated and the way he never slept. Maybe it was none of those things and maybe he was actually just like everyone else, only no one was actually alike. He shook his head slightly. He was odd, or so he’d been told. That didn’t necessarily make him unique, though.
“Mm, yes.” He said, nodding. He did indeed know exactly what had happened to Maria di Angelo, but he didn’t press the matter. He figured they both knew what had happened already. “Baklava is definitely quite sweet.” He added thoughtfully, as though he hadn’t really considered it before. It was just one of the things he ate. He tilted his head slightly, and smiled a little. “Ah.” He said. “Cookie jar. I understand.”
Why he was explaining his rules to a kid might have been a bit of a mystery. Maybe he shouldn’t have. Nico was just a kid, he probably couldn’t be trusted with sensitive information such as this. Except, well...it wasn’t really that sensitive. His rules weren’t really secrets. They were just things not many people knew about. He would prefer it stayed that way, but he wasn’t all that concerned about it.
For this case, it happened to be worth over a million dollars. Mostly because of how rich Hades was. Also, it had the potential to have over ten victims. Also, it was interesting to L on a more personal level, which wasn’t technically a rule, but mattered.
L considered that. “It’s not that I don’t care, exactly.” He corrected thoughtfully. “It’s more that I don’t let it interfere with my work. I can be upset about something, while doing what I need to do. It’s not always easy, but it is possible.”
He did understand what Nico was trying to say though. It was a lot easier to deal with things you didn’t care about. It was a lot easier than trying to handle things that mattered to you. He understood that.
“You’re right.” He said seriously. “It is easier not to care. At least, I imagine it would be. I haven’t experienced it myself.”
“Yes.” He said, nodding. “I do.” It’s actually nearby. I can’t show you right now because our time is nearly up, but maybe sometime I could take you for a ride. It’s quite interesting.”
He considered the question. “Well,” he said slowly, “I imagine if I didn’t have my own, I would need to rent one. Which would be irritating, but it would work.
He didn’t really know whether he would ever be able to take Nico for a ride. He hoped so. But he wasn’t making any promises just yet.
He nodded, agreeing. “Whatever you decide will have an element of danger to it.” He said. “That’s not a reason not to do it, not necessarily. It is a reason to be careful, however. I wouldn’t want to advice you not to take your life seriously, by any means. Does that make sense to you?” He hoped he hadn’t communicated the wrong thing by accident. He had intended only to point out the perils of life in general, not to trivialize them.
He smiled slightly. “Yes, it does.” He said softly. “I won’t live forever. Indeed, I’m already in the process of finding my replacement. I could die at anytime, so it’s necessary for me to act quickly.” He tilted his head slightly. “Do you have any final questions before we head back?”
-
L, of course, had been told how oddly he sat many times. Not as many as it could have been, considering he didn’t see other people very often, but often enough. In fact, he could tell a good bit about someone based on whether they said anything or not, and what they said if they did speak up. For Orpheus, he would have thought it was likely that the other man was shy, insecure about something, himself or otherwise, had he not known what he knew. Had he not known that Orpheus was trying to play him. He couldn’t trust his instincts this time, he had to second guess himself at every step, and he had to stay ahead of Orpheus. That was the way he was going to win.
The conversation may have been dying, but L’s mind was racing as far ahead of the situation. He was already planning out tomorrow, trying to think of what the weekend would look like, trying to guess what Orpheus was going to do. He was already reading Orpheus’ expression to get a handle on what sort of person he was dealing with here. What had he gleaned?
Orpheus was either a very good liar, or no liar at all.
He watched Orpheus carefully. Was it possible he was wrong about this? Of all the suspects, Orpheus was the most obvious, but that didn’t automatically make him guilty. It might just make him unlucky.
He hummed, listening but not really answering. He was watching Orpheus, expecting him to say something. Or maybe he was simply thinking too much. He peered at Orpheus, curiosity I’m his expression. He could ask why no one would hire Orpheus, but then, that seemed like bait. What was it Orpheus wanted him to ask about? And what would he do if L didn’t fall for it? No, he wouldn’t ask. He would let Orpheus do what he wanted to do with that.
L, though he hadn’t expected to get a key to the house, was glad he had. It would certainly make his job a lot easier. Didn’t Orpheus realize that? Maybe he was simply trying to cast suspicion off of him. If so, he was doing a pretty poor job of it, seeing as L could still see all the reasons why he was probably guilty.
He didn’t smile back, but he did nod. He appreciated the key, even if he didn’t entirely get the reason behind it. Which worried him a little, but he figured he would get that information soon enough.
Orpheus shouldn’t have believed L. It was that simple. He shouldn’t have believed a word L said. But it wasn’t his fault L was a good liar.
“I see.” He said, nodding. “In that case I can see why I should have a key. And yes, my work can be dangerous at times.” Read: now. “So I do appreciate the thought you’ve put into this. You didn’t even have to let me in, and now you’re offering me a place to stay. Thank you.” He meant that, too. Orpheus had been nothing but helpful so far, and even if he was doing it for a bad reason, he was still doing it and L wanted to acknowledge it.
“Oh, yes, thank you.” He said, surprised but the offer of more tea. He did in fact want more, and he saw no reason not to say it. “Do you have any green tea? Black is fine as well.” Most tea was actually fine by him, as long as he had sugar to put in it. Tea without sugar was dreadful. He didn’t understand how people actually drank it,
He was going to be perfectly honest about things like tea, so Orpheus needn’t have worried about that. What he could have worried about instead, was the bigger picture. The fact that L had given a fake name. The fact that L was there not for another case, but for this one, the one that had stolen from Orpheus. It was a game, all right, but not the one Orpheus was afraid of. It was the one he didn’t know he should be afraid of.
“No, that’s all.” He said simply, resting his hands on his knees again. “I believe I have everything else I need.”
He did. He had Orpheus right where he wanted him. He had his rules and he didn’t have backup but that was okay. He didn’t need backup. He could do this himself.
If Orpheus was trying to push himself to function, then L was trying to push himself to solve this case as quickly as possible. He didn’t anticipate it taking more than a week. Orpheus was smart, but he wasn’t that smart, and L knew he was definitely smarter. He could do this. He just had to catch Orpheus on a mistake first.
He tilted his head slightly. “I see.” He said, acknowledging the statement with a dip of his head. He didn’t say anything else for a moment, then continued. “Even so, it’s kind of you to be a good host. My case may take a while, but I hope to move on before too long, so you won’t have to put up with me forever. This is just a temporary arrangement. Don’t worry.” He glanced around the room. “Yes, this will work.”

L was careful to be out of the house a lot, even though he would have preferred to stay and watch Orpheus 24/7. He couldn’t do that, and that was why he needed the cameras. Since Orpheus hadn’t gotten hired yet, the other man hadn’t been out enough for L to do a more detailed search, but what he had found confirmed his suspicions. The handwriting on the tea didn’t match the grocery lists Orpheus made, or anything else he wrote. That wasn’t all, either, or it would have been a very poor case.
He was out now, crouched in the dark and watching the cameras like a hawk as Orpheus returned. He watched as the suspect moved through the house, probably looking for him, and then as he wrote the note, which of course didn’t match the writing on the tea, once again. It was such an obvious giveaway that L was actually a little annoyed that Orpheus had missed it.
He wondered again whether he had made the right choice, going up to Orpheus like that. Would it have been better to wait and bide his time, maybe install the cameras first? He shook his head slightly. No, this was the best way to figure out what had happened here. This was the best way to get close enough to see what Orpheus’ goal here really was, because he hadn’t decided to impersonate the victim for nothing. He had to be planning something.
L expected Orpheus to find the camera almost immediately. It was carelessly placed, too obvious to miss really, at least for someone observant enough to do what Orpheus had done. He was surprised, then, when Orpheus completely failed to find the camera. That was...not what he had expected to happen. Could it be that he had discovered it and simply ignored it? Did that fit his profile?
Yes, he was searching for L. That much was correct, at least. He didn’t know what to expect now, which frustrated him. He didn’t like not having the answers, he didn’t like not knowing things, and he absolutely despised being wrong. Orpheus probably knew that much about him. Orpheus probably shared that, in fact.
He watched as Orpheus finally sat down at his desk, and he tapped his teeth with one finger, carefully waiting to see what he would do now that L was apparently gone. What did he expect? Not for Orpheus to give everything away, of course, but possibly for him to do something he wouldn’t normally. Unless he had noticed the camera, of course. But his behavior suggested he hadn’t. Or was that intentional?
He needed to calm down. He may not like it when things went wrong, but that didn’t mean he could sit around and sulk about it. He would just have to make the best of this, and figure out what Orpheus was actually doing. That’s what mattered, not how L felt.
Then Orpheus stood up and approached the vent, and L realized a moment before it happened what he was doing. Then he was looking right into Orpheus’ eye.
He didn’t understand what Orpheus was talking about. Could he possibly think that the camera had really been in there a long time? What did it mean? What was he trying to tell L? He had to know that it was L, even an innocent person would put that much together. Random stranger arrives, and then cameras appear in your home. It wasn’t exactly a leap.
So what was it he was doing? It didn’t make sense.
“Who are you talking to?” He asked, frustrated. “Not me, surely? That would be a strange reaction to a stranger putting cameras in your home. No...not me.” The emotion in Orpheus’ voice also felt very real. It was like he had lost someone and the cameras had reminded him of that person. How did that make any sense at all?
Then the camera went black as Orpheus closed his fist around it, and L leaned back. There were two major possibilities here. Either L was mistaken, and Orpheus was somehow innocent...which would mean either Orpheus was still out there somewhere, or this was, in fact, Orpheus...or the imposter was messing with him.
Which was more likely? Well, if this were Orpheus, then why hadn’t he attempted to play even once? That made that possibility unlikely. If he wasn’t, and the real Orpheus was still out there somewhere...that was a possibility, but L didn’t think he could have messed up that badly. He had been careful. This was Orpheus’ home, for better or for worse, and that meant this man was connected to everything somehow. If he wasn’t an imposter and he wasn’t Orpheus, then where did that lead?
No, there was still the possibility that the imposter was trying to throw L off. That seemed like the most likely solution, though L didn’t like the way he had gone about it. If it was just completely random, then what was the imposter thinking? Was he trying to say something or was he just...saying things he knew L wouldn’t understand?
The detective narrowed his eyes. Either way, he was going to catch him. He had to.

L watched carefully as Orpheus looked at the camera. He poked at his teeth with his index finger, lost in thought and trying to uncover what he could. Which wasn’t as much as he would have liked, in all honesty. Orpheus wasn’t being very helpful, sitting there holding the camera like it was a dead relative, clutching it instead of...whatever else he might have done with it. Thrown it, maybe. Talked to it. What was it Orpheus was hoping to accomplish here? L didn’t know, and he didn’t like not knowing things. He liked knowing exactly what was going on, not sitting here trying to figure out what in the world Orpheus was doing.
He didn’t know about the phone. He didn’t know about the notifications, or the app, or the music...well, no, he did know about the music, of course he did. But he didn’t know that it was Orpheus. Of course he didn’t.
It would have saved them both a long of trouble if he had known that.
He watched as Orpheus threw the camera away, jumping as it hit the bottom of the trash can with a loud crack. Of course, Orpheus was going to do a deep clean of his house, now, and find the other cameras. That had been a part of L’s plan. If he found them all, he would know just how serious the investigation was and it would knock him off his game. Unfortunately, it would also mean that L could no longer keep an eye on him, but he didn’t intend to be outside the house very often anyway, so it shouldn’t be a problem.
He watched carefully as Orpheus approached the guitar. He had noticed it, of course. A trophy from his victim, probably. Why else would it sit there gathering dust? Why else would Orpheus, the famous Orpheus, though of course he wasn’t really famous, live with his guitar untouched, people’s lives slipping away, it wasn’t like him.
That was, of course, because it wasn’t him.
He knew. He just didn’t know.
And that was probably his biggest mistake.
He watched Orpheus as the other man approached the desk, and he frowned, uncertain what he was doing. Was he trying to get a weapon? Was he angry about the cameras? Was he searching for more cameras?
He tilted his head, staring. Orpheus looked...desperate. Bad sign. Desperate people did very stupid things. So many good sign, actually. If Orpheus made a mistake, then it would be that much easier for L to catch him. If Orpheus made a mistake, then it was over. The game would be won.
He didn’t understand why Orpheus was truly desperate. He didn’t understand the expression on the suspect’s face. He didn’t understand anything, even if he thought he did. And he did think that. Because he was used to having all the answers, because he was used to knowing things, and he was not used to being wrong. So wasn’t it a reasonable assumption that he wasn’t wrong?
He poked at his teeth again, and tapped the table, thoughtful. The expression on Orpheus’ face...what was that? What did it mean? If he hadn’t carried what he already thought he knew, maybe he would have said it was pain. Pain, loss...something hard to pinpoint, but still very, very real.
He jumped as Orpheus threw the first sheets of music away.
Because that was what it was. Music. The late Orpheus’, probably. No, certainly, whose else would it be? And the fact that he was throwing it away now meant….
“Ah.” He murmured, understanding at last. Or, he thought he did. Obscuring evidence. A panic based reaction. It made sense, though L found he was disappointed in the move. It was so obvious, not at all the finesse he had come to expect. The least he could have done was try to hide what he was doing instead of just….panicking and throwing it all away. Clearly there was a reason he hadn’t done this immediately. Was he really so overconfident as to have believed that he wouldn’t be investigated? Could L forgive him that, knowing that he was the best detective in the world, and so the things he noticed were likely to be missed by others? No, he decided, Orpheus should have known. He should have been more careful. This was a mistake, a bad one, and it played to L perfectly. He wasn’t completely sure what happened next, but whatever it was, he was confident he had what he needed to pin Orpheus down, and soon. This evidence, it wouldn’t hold up in court, not yet, but it was a start, and if the imposter reacted this badly under pressure, then all L needed to do was push a little bit harder, and his case would practically be handed to him on a silver platter. It was almost too easy. Annoyingly so. Not that he wanted the case to continue, of course not, but he found he had come to expect more from this criminal he called by his victim’s name.
He couldn’t really see Orpheus anymore. The camera he had taken would have been helpful for that. Instead, he leaned back, taking in everything he’d just seen.
Well…
This might be over before it had really begun.

Of all the things L had thought of, all the possibilities he had considered, he had missed the very simple truth. He had missed the answer that would have made everything so clear to him, made everything make sense.
He had watched Orpheus sit for a long time, trying to understand, trying to understand the case. It wasn’t easy, but he thought he was on the right track.
He had destroyed evidence. Panicked, most likely. It wasn’t surprising, under the circumstances, with the pressure L was already putting on him, but L couldn’t help but be just a little disappointed that he had slipped so easily into stupid decisions. Not that he wanted this case to last longer by any means, but...well. It was just annoyingly easy so far.
He looked up as Orpheus went outside, and he leaned forward, tensing just a little bit. What was this? He hadn’t put on shoes, most people wore shoes when they left, was he trying to tell L something? Surely he had noticed L’s own lack of shoes. Was he trying to communicate that he knew L was watching? They both knew that already, why did he have to communicate it now? It didn’t make sense. L filed it away for another time, focusing instead on the present.
Unfortunately, he couldn’t actually see outside, only inside. So he was forced to stare at a blank camera for several moments, expecting Orpheus to return at any moment, because he clearly hadn’t planned to be gone long. It took a little bit, but he did return, and L’s eyes widened a little as he saw him.
That was...unexpected.
He had rescued the evidence. L stared, a frown slowly coming over his features, his head tilting slightly. Had was he really being so stupid as to realize he had made a mistake throwing it away and try to just...bring it back? Didn’t he have any idea how bad of an idea that was? It was such a painfully bad idea that L almost didn’t know what to do about it at this point. He wanted to arrest the suspect right then and there just on principle.
He was shaken from his thoughts by yet another unexpected thing….Orpheus took the real Orphans’ guitar down.
What?
That made no sense. He hadn’t touched it for so long, that much was clear in the dust, and now of all times he decided to hold it? What was he trying to prove? That he was guilty? Because that was the only thing he was accomplishing with his eradic behavior.
He didn’t move as the hours passed, his thoughts slowly chewing on the possibilities. After a while he noticed Orpheus seemed to have fallen asleep with the guitar cradled in his arms like a child, and he frowned, pausing in the middle of stacking small jelly containers.
He didn’t understand. Not yet. But he wasn’t going to give until he did.

L glanced up, surprised as the suspect poked his head into the room. Was he busy? Well...he always was, but.... “no, not really.” He decided out loud.

L considered. Would he? He glanced at his work, but then, this was his work, wasn’t it? He looked at Orpheus, then nodded seriously. “Alright.” He agreed, standing.