Disclaimer: I don't own Death Note.

A/N: I've been feeling freaking frustrated lately.

LOST MEMORIES

CHAPTER THREE: KEEP YOUR ENEMY CLOSER

"How are you feeling today, Ryuuzaki?"

He sat on the edge of his bed, eyes trailing over Light as the teen strode inside, a plastic bag rustling audibly after him. It was 10 in the morning, and if he were not mistaken, he'd be going to leave today with the Yagamis.

He dropped his stare when Light seemed to notice. The brunet was wearing a dark green sweater, and it looked fitting. So very unlike him who presented a pathetic drowned rat in his white drab. He looked away slightly, feeling exposed in something very thin. The hospital should have provided better garment than something as flimsy as a white, paper gown, he thought sullenly.

"Passable." He supposed he should ask about how the teen was doing as well, isn't that how socializing works? Being polite? "And how are you?"

Light hummed, setting down the bag on a table. "Fine," he answered simply. "Have you remembered anything yet?"

He bit the inside of his cheek, feeling depressed. He'd woken up sometime around 2 AM and hadn't been able to drift back to sleep afterwards. He'd stared out the window, watching the streets, deserted of pedestrian (who in their right state of mind would walk this late at night), trying to conjure up anything that could help him with his predicament. Namely, his name. Or perhaps anything, really, such as his hobby, perhaps?

The nurse fretted when she came inside to check on him at six sharp. No wonder you got such dark rings under your eyes, she'd said, then telling him to try going back to sleep as to recover his health.

He did not like being told what to do, and he just sullenly sat curled with face kept to the side, ignoring the middle-aged nurse. Perhaps it was rude, but at 6 AM in the morning, he just could not bring himself to care. The sun was rising up steadily, and he wanted to watch in peace.

Light took a box out from the bag. The raven perked up curiously when he smelled something nice wafting from the object in Light's hands.

"No, I do not remember anything of any importance…" he trailed off, hugging both knees to his chest, cheek resting upon them. "What is it that you have there?"

Light looked up from his task of removing the lid. The smell grew stronger when it was lifted. He closed his eyes momentarily, savoring the sweet, enticing aroma. "It smells nice."

Light chuckled lightly, lids lowered as he lightly set the lid aside, "cheesecake. You'll like it." He carefully took out the pale yellow dessert; the smell grew even sweeter as he did. He started cutting it up with precise motion into smaller pieces. L watched his nimble fingers grasping the plastic knife, sawing through the spongy texture.

"You used to like eating these, even more than regular food." Light dropped the knife and dabbed his hand with some tissues. There were bits of whip cream on them, making them feel sticky. "In fact, I've never seen you eat anything beside sweets."

"Is that so?" He brought his thumb up to nibble on. "I don't really recall."

"Believe me, you do," Light gave a genial smile. "You've always preferred eating diabetic artificial sweets to regular food."

He shrugged, "I wouldn't know, Light." Honestly, he didn't even know how cheesecakes taste like. He didn't really remember.

"Right, you wouldn't." Light gave a melancholy sigh, "Why don't you try now, then? Father's still at the reception desk, it would take some time before we take you home." He motioned at the cut-up cake, "Quite delectable."

He gave another shrug, "I suppose."

Oh, it was heavenly.

He almost choked on the first bite. It was just perfect, the dessert tasted soft and glorious in his mouth, the sweet flavor oozed down his throat in a plethora of greatness. His eyes closed to focus on savoring the blissful taste of it. He chewed slowly. It was cold, it was sweet, it was the first nice thing he knew for the recent days of his life since he'd woken up in that coffin. He faintly realized that Light was watching him eating, his own piece untouched.

How could he not remember something as good as this? He scrunched up his face a bit. He should have remembered how cheesecake tastes like, it tastes way too good to ever be forgotten. But then again, I don't even remember my own name nor having any clue on what the first letter of it was. He set his fork down without noticing it.

"Is it not to your liking?" He heard the question. Light got his brows screwed together in confusion.

And now, was he being rude? The raven smiled anxiously, feeling as if he'd done something wrong. "It's nice." He jabbed his fork into the cream and licked it off. Simply chuckled at the display.

He looked up and felt his cheeks flushing. Did he do something wrong? Perhaps he'd embarrassed himself by eating so carelessly, not even aware that there was other watching him as he did so. He did not understand why the brunet looked very amused, but he felt rather uncomfortable, with those perfect almond eyes glinting with mirth when the other saw the warm heat on his cheeks. He swallowed down and looked away, the slight red still present for all to see. He willed them down but they seemed adamant on staying, shaming him further.

He swore he could hear the other's mind, still laughing at him, even after Light had stopped chuckling. "Pardon," he mumbled.

Light smiled, all playful and encouraging. It'd done nothing to make him feel better. It made him feel even more improper.

The teen shook his head, "You have a little something here," he scratched the side of his own lips, showing where the icing had stuck.

He tried wiping it with his palm. "Has it gone?" he flicked his eyes back to Light, the cream apparently still intact.

Light gave his head another shake. "Not quite, here," he leaned over. He could faintly smell the cologne the other had sprayed for great measure of making himself presentable. Could feel the heat of a body so close, draping over him. Could see each, individual lashes that adorned brown, amber eyes.

He'd never had anyone this close to him. He did not exactly remember, but he knew, he didn't feel well when someone was breaching the general three foot rule of personal space.

Light wiped the mess off with his thumb. He licked the digit afterwards.

He touched the side of his cheek where it met with Light's finger.

There was something carnal tugging at his chest and making him feel heavy. Perhaps those lips that had looked so suave, or the sensual air that coiled around the brunet, albeit not on purpose.

But was it on purpose? However inadvertent it looked?

It was interesting, Light realized, seeing L unguarded and so naïve.

He'd noticed the effect he has on the raven when he'd drifted closer. The other became stiff, even as far as forgetting to breathe for a fraction. Seems that, no matter with memory intact or damaged, the former detective still held great dislike of physical contact. To be in close proximity with anybody made him easy to read.

It was thrilling.

He'd seen the way L quailed under his stare, how nervous he'd become. How I could crush you…

They were on their way home with his father driving. L had his legs drawn up, body leaning to the side. The man opted to stare out the window instead of engaging in anything remotely of the conversing nature with Light. He did not mind. L was nervous, and it was entertaining to behold. He may not show much, but the widening of those already wide eyes were enough to surface the truth.

"Eh? So he's not dead?" Ryuk rasped, chuckling, one grotesque finger poking at L's side. Of course, he could not feel the poke, but the action made Light wanted to twitch indignantly. The gangly creature sat between them in the vehicle, inadvertently making an invisible wall between him and L. The raven was still staring out the window, hair swaying along with the move of the car.

Yes, why is he not dead, I wonder? He glared at Ryuk from the reflection in the window to his right. The God of Death seemed to read what was on his mind, and chuckled even more obnoxiously, the sound like chalk grating on a board.

"Wonder why Rem put that curse on him, though, hm," Ryuk tapped on his chin.

Oh? Care to elaborate? Light shifted, eyes sliding to Ryuk, indicating interest.

"I would tell you, but what do you have as payment for me? How about doing the eye trade?"

Light rolled his eyes. As if. There was a bag of apple on the floor of the car he bought along with the cake he'd given L. He looked down at it, Ryuk's own gaze following.

"Only apples? You're no fun."

Light took the bag in hand. He procured one red, gleaming fruit.

"Ryuuzaki, try eating this."

Ryuk screeched frantically. "But that's mine!"

You don't seem to want it.

His permanent grin seemed to twitch down in deplore. "Okay, okay, Light! Just, give me that apple!"

Light did not seem to hear the pleading and instead held out the fruit closer to L. The raven spared it a glance. "Thank you, but I'm not hungry." He stared out the window again.

"It's good for your health, Ryuuzaki. You are still recovering, anyway," Light urged.

"Not from anything of any real health concern, I'm not suffering from any malady. Just memory loss. Eating apples won't help me regaining anything back," L bit out.

"There's no need to be so caustic about it either, Ryuuzaki."

He made sure that his tone sounded hurt instead of chiding. There was uncertainty and the faltering of a resolve in L's eyes. If he could just prod a bit more… "I was only trying to make you feel better." Better my arse. I hope you'd die again soon, before you remember anything.

L's eyes lowered in guilt. He laid his head on the window and breathed out softly, "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to be rude."

"That's fine, I understand." A gentle smile, the retraction of coiling gaze. He'd been pinning L with his eyes, sizing him up and keeping him on his toes. Light knew that his actions affect the detective greatly. L did not like to be scrutinized very closely, which he'd gladly do just to unnerve the dark-haired intellectual further. Hypocrite. L gave his own uncertain quirk of lips, lids heavy and eyes tired, then those damning dark eyes slid away to stare out the window again.

His father did not seem to notice the tense air that dawned between the individuals at the back. He kept driving in silence, lost in his thoughts, perhaps still not believing that the L was well and alive. Light couldn't fault that, he was baffled himself. Such inconvenience.

Ryuk heaved a relieved sigh. "I thought you were going to really give th—"

Light brought the fruit to his lips and bit the hard flesh. Crunch. Juicy.

Ryuk screeched, wings fluttering around with indignation.

L bit his lip at the savoury crunch, flinching a bit when it damaged the silence from before. The detective was wearing one of his shirts, black button-down, the collar slightly up on one side. Scruffy. Sloppy. It was too big about one size on L, even when he'd left only two buttons undone, revealing soft, milky jutting collar bone and the almost feminine curve of his neck. Vulnerable. L wasn't the man he was before, now much more honest, he had nothing to hide. The jeans as well, were too big, but not baggy like L's own had been.

He figured that maybe, playing close could help him in getting rid of L. The information that Ryuk has... he'd have to talk to the God of Death in private soon, and see if there were any ways he could turn the tide. Or undo the resurrection...

He'd have to get Misa to meet L. See what bloody letters were hanging garishly above his head, now that he had no memory of his name.

"Ah, it's nice meeting you, Ryuuzaki. Light has told me a lot about you, I hope you'll feel at home here." Sachiko held the door open, smiling, motioning for the three of them to come in. He nodded uncertainly, following as Light and Soichiro stepped inside the threshold.

Soichiro started, "Have you—"

"Prepared the spare bed? You don't need to tell me twice, dear." Sachiko sent a stiff smile to the father. "You'll be staying for dinner, hm?"

"Ah…"

Soichiro seemed struggled for something to say. To be honest, he needed to go to the office, settle about some work. He'd be coming back into the NPA after all. "About that, Ryuuzaki likes to eat sweet things, do we have something like that for dessert?" He subtly swerved the subject.

"I do?" The former sleuth looked over to Soichiro.

"It's fine, Father. I'm sure Ryuuzaki wouldn't mind eating something else."

"Oh, well then, but we do have something sweet. I'm sure Sayu still has her strawberries somewhere, I could prepare the chocolate dip," Sachiko said.

Light smiled at her. "Really, don't worry about it. I'll be showing Ryuuzaki where the room is now."

Light took his hand, elegant fingers curling about his small wrist. The action seemed innocent, but he felt that the other had done it on purpose, making up reason to breach his aversion to human contact. "Let's,"

He consented and followed the tug on his hand to ascent up the stairs.

He watched the way Light's shirt shifted, the way his broad shoulders moving. How could there be anything as beautiful as this person? It's almost ethereal. Light seemed to be a person who would never take no as an answer, always getting whatever he wants. Worming his way into people with such prone. He didn't know much about this... how old was he? Seventeen? Eighten? He could very well be older with the way he bear himself around others.

Speaking of age, how old was himself? He don't look that much older than Light. Certainly not younger, perhaps a year or two older? He bit his lip. Who am I, actually?

The handle was turned and they stepped inside the room. His first impression was… it was ridiculously neat. No posters, no photo frames, only a digital clock hanging above the desk and the computer upon it. Light's bed had a spare mattress underneath it that could be slid out, with small wheels attached underneath the wooden frame. It was out, the bed, already a blanket folded neatly and a spare pillow set for him to use. The lights were still off and the brunet flicked it on, instantly bathing the room with a clearer view.

"Should we go down now?"

His hand wrist was oddly still held within Light's grasping fingers. Like a vice. It felt unrelenting, even though he could easily slip out of it. He gently tried prying the limb away, reasoning with himself that he just wanted to step inside further, rather than to avoid the touch. Light released his hold and folded both arms, standing languidly while L took a look around the room.

After some while, he looked back to the brunet and uncertainly complimented the neat place.

"Mother just cleaned it," Light smiled. "Come. They must be waiting for us downstairs. You should try Mother's chicken tenders and onigiri. They taste really good."

He had to admit that he rather like the brunet's voice. Smooth, placating, pleasing. A voice that could be used to coax anybody into doing his biddings. Combined with the eyes, the smooth curve of his jaw, high cheekbones. He felt something fluttered at the bottom of his belly. He looked away.

There was a mirror mounted on wardrobe, his reflection staring back at him. The face was unfamiliar and yet, it was himself at the same time. Too dark eyes, too pale skin, untidy jagged black hair. He didn't know whose face he was staring at. It wasn't him, couldn't be him. How could someone this unsightly become friends with someone like Light Yagami in the first place? One would think that Light would choose friends that at least maintain their appearance. He didn't look like someone who did well in that department, could be seen from the way his hair spilled down almost touching his shoulder. He wanted to grimace. Didn't he cut his hair before he got his amnesia?

"Okay…" He looked away from the mirror. He couldn't bear seeing someone so unfamiliar staring back, posing as him and yet didn't feel like him.

Light walked out the door. "Okay, come on."

He should be getting used to seeing that face. And he should really be getting used by being called Ryuuzaki, instead of registering the call twice whenever someone called him that. But it's not my name… And how did he knew that it wasn't his name? Light told him back then in the hospital that he had no surname, it was likely that Ryuuzaki was only a nickname, alias, or something of the sort. He bit at his thumb, feeling devastated. Perhaps dinner would get his mind off of these depressing thoughts. He wished he would remember something soon.