Author's note: Hey look, it's something NOT Fire Emblem related. Trying to branch out a bit. And I love Matsuda.

You want to be useful? Then could you get me another cup of coffee?

Some days, he preferred to be at headquarters. He was silently thrilled to be working on the Kira case, holding back his enthusiasm when they received new information. He noticed the dubious looks from the task force when he got excited—like he was sick to be enjoying it, but it wasn't about joy. It was about being useful. As an added bonus, he had the super-important role of playing Misa-Misa's manager, and he was pleasantly surprised how well they worked together.

Matsuda stood outside his apartment door, jangling his keys, staring mindlessly at the doorknob. He could go back to headquarters. L would be there, at least, pulling yet another all-nighter. But he couldn't go back now. Could you get me another cup of coffee? He felt a fresh wave of disappointment as he gripped the door key, feeling its ridges dig into his palm. With a sigh, he finally unlocked the door.

The apartment looked lonely and desolate when he flipped on the overhead light. Matsuda ran his fingers across the kitchen table in passing, leaving tracks in the thick layer of dust. The time spent here was seldom these days; some nights were spent on the couch at headquarters. But the chief had insisted Matsuda go home tonight, sleep in his own bed, bathe in his own shower. Maybe I should get a cat, he thought, flopping onto the sofa. His keys dropped to the hardwood floor with a clang, and he smiled slightly at the way his non-existent cat would immediately pounce on them.

He lazily unknotted his tie, staring out the picture window at the city beyond. How many people are dying right now because of Kira? The thought stirred up acid in his stomach. That is why he wanted to be on this case, but he couldn't help feeling increasingly useless the longer he spent at headquarters.

That was part of the reason he went home tonight, too.

Matsuda groaned as he pulled himself off the couch, moving toward the window. With his forehead leaned against the glass, he looked past his faint reflection to the city below. The twinkling of the buildings' lights forged a peaceful appearance. But he knew all the wrong out there. Not only Kira but also the crimes committed by his victims, hoping they won't get caught. He lifted his eyes slightly to look out at headquarters looming over the city. In one of those lighted windows, L was working furiously. He closed his eyes, trying to comprehend L's thought process over the case. But if he couldn't understand something as basic as his suspects—or, more specifically, suspect—he would never understand anything.

Maybe he was in denial. Light was a good guy. He was eager to help out on the case, spending all his free time at headquarters. And he cared about his family—Matsuda knew he'd protect Sayu from anything—and he was just as determined as L to catch Kira. Could that all be front?

Matsuda rubbed the back of his head, trudging to the bathroom for a pain reliever. He washed it down with a handful of tap water and ran his damp hands through his hair. The chief was right—he needed sleep.

But his mind wouldn't stop racing when he crawled into bed. He envisioned the bustle of headquarters behind his eyelids: Mogi surrounded by stacks of evidence, Aizawa making frantic phone calls. But he didn't see himself. He viewed the room as from an outsider, or the isolation of a security camera, not his own eyes. Like he wasn't there at all.

Maybe he would call out sick tomorrow.

He must have fallen asleep, because he was jarred awake by Misa-Misa singing sweetly to him. He rolled over, momentarily perplexed, having forgotten about his new ringtone. Not such a bad thing to wake up to, he thought, fumbling for his cell on the nightstand. "Oh! It's the chief!" It was also six o'clock in the morning.

"Matsuda here." He tried to sound alert, but judging by Yagami's chuckling he had failed horribly. He frowned.

"Sorry I woke you."

"No, not at all!" Matsuda scrambled out of bed, tumbling to his knees as the blanket twisted around his hips. If the chief heard anything, he politely ignored it.

"Can you get to headquarters now? We have some… interesting developments."

Matsuda was already stretching his free hand toward the closet, groping for his shoes and a clean shirt.