Light growled in frustration. This wasn't working out at all like he had planned. L had once again gotten in the way. He certainly couldn't kill the meddlesome fool. It was too soon. No, L was no fool. He'd done this on purpose. L was trying to taunt him into making a move by secretly hustling Higuchi away before Light saw his face. A foolish move that could prove him guilty of L's suspicions. Light peered through the dark and over at the sleeping blonde in his bed.
Misa. Misa Amone. She lay sprawled over Light's blankets, barely clothed in a black teddy. Slowly he watched the rise and fall of her chest, evidence of her continued existence. For a moment he wondered why he kept her around. Why he hadn't killed her yet. Instantly it came to him. She was useful. She had the shinigami eyes and was willing to follow all his orders, without question. So she proclaimed her undying love daily, he could handle that. She looked so innocent laying there. But they both knew that was a bold faced lie. She had killed just as many criminals and people who had gotten in Lights way as he had, with no qualm. In Kira's way. He had to admit, over time he had gained some feeling for Misa. But not that imaginary feeling she boasted of.
Pulling his attention away from her, he fingered the pages of the Deathnote in his hands and cursed it's stupid rules. Upon giving up all rights to Ryuk's Deathnote, he had lost every scrap of his memory of ever being Kira. What Ryuk had conveniently forgot to tell him was that if the notebook was brought back into his possession, there was a condition to regaining and keeping his memories. The notebook itself, not a page or a piece, had to be on his person at all times for the next ten hours or he would once again lose his memory. Happily Ryuk had offered to remind him of this fact for a small price. Ryuk needed an apple fix. He was an apple addict. Light had suggested he seek out AA meetings in the version of Apples. Ryuk had just whined until Light gave in out of frustration.
He had to restrain himself from throwing the notebook. Nothing good would come of it. A twinge in his gut had him rising from the couch he was stretched upon and padding barefoot across the soft plush carpet toward the bathroom, notebook in hand. Stepping into the small enclosure, he closed the door before turning on the light. He didn't want to wake Misa. She had been talking of marriage and kids lately. Marriage he could fully conceive. It would give them both a better cover. Devoted husband and adoring wife. A pregnancy could only strengthen that even more. Eager daddy-to-be would work well in his favor but actual kids were out of the question. They could be used against him as hostages or bartering tools. They were an unpredictable variable he couldn't plan for or control. No, he didn't want another talk on that subject this week. Maybe another night.
Staring at himself in the mirror, Light took in his shadowy features. His honey brown hair was tousled and had grown quite long. His mother insisted he cut it a bit shorter but Misa liked it shaggy and surprisingly, he did too. His eyes had gotten darker, they were no longer the heady chocolate brown they had been before he had discovered the notebook. They had become an intense brown that bordered black. His mouth was now a grim line and a dim five o'clock shadow graced his chin. His white dress shirt and black trousers were ruffled from where he had retrieved them from the floor, having tossed them there only twenty minutes before, and his breath smelt faintly of the rum he and Misa had shared before heading off to bed together. He turned away from his reflection and took the remaining steps to the toilet. Lifting the seat he undid his pants with one hand and held the notebook with the other. After relieving himself and flushing, Light groaned at the predicament he was in. Sure you could easily un-button your pants with one hand, but how were you supposed to re-button them with one hand?
Transferring the notebook to his last two fingers, he fumbled around trying to button his pants when the book slipped from between the two appendages. Everything slowed as Light watched the black book fall to the floor, his memories with it. When it hit the tile floor a slap echoed in the small room, bringing his attention to the floor.
Light shook his head. Why was he aimlessly standing in the bathroom with his pants around his ass and why was there a black book on the floor? He shrugged uselessly and reached for the oddly titled book. Deathnote. Well, Misa was a gothic girl and loved dark things. Maybe it was hers. Though why she would leave it on the bathroom floor was beyond him. The second his fingertips made contact with the book's leather cover, everything came flooding back. He picked up the book, wanting to kick himself over the stupidity of the situation. Now he would have to start the ten hours over again. Damn. He stuck the book under his arm and twisted around, trying to pull up his pants. He managed to get them buttoned but not before the space between his bicep and torso became to big to hold the notebook. It hit the floor, one again dragging his memories with it.
Blinking, Light stared at the book. Hadn't he just picked that dumb thing up? Maybe the Rum he'd shared with Misa was affecting him. He'd never been a light drinker before, but never a lush either. Maybe he just needed sleep. Sleep sounded good. He gripped the binding of the book and cursed as all his memories once returned. "Damn it all!" he groused. This wasn't his night. Hell wasn't his day. Suddenly an idea struck him. Lifting the tail of his shirt he tucked the notebook's bottom edge between his waistband and his back. He smiled smugly. Turning his back to the toilet, he began fidgeting with the zipper and jerking at the pants. Slowly with every jerky movement, the notebook was rising from his pants and falling toward the exposed toilet bowl. With a hard tug, Light got his zipper unstuck and pulled up. It had caught on a loose thread. Light groaned as he felt the notebook fall from the waistband of his pants and into the toilet.
Why the hell was he still in the bathroom and where was that book? Whipping around he searched the floor and countertop by the sink. When he turned in the direction of the toilet, he saw the thing aimlessly floating in the water. "No." he moaned. Misa would have his left nut if this was indeed hers. Gingerly as to not damage it anymore, he reached into the water and lifted the book from the porcelain appliance and really wanted to kick himself now. He had dropped the Deathnote in the toilet. Great, wonderful, super freaking fantastic. Eyeing the sink, he began formulating a plan. Light didn't care how well the toilet had been cleaned recently or how many times it had been flushed, he still had stuck his hand in a toilet. Walking over the sink he went over and over an idea in his head, almost positive it would work. Looking at his bare feet, Light was ninety-nine percent sure it would work. Only one way to find out.
Bending over, he lifted his right foot from the floor and set the notebook on the cold tile below it, his fingers never leaving the leather binding. Slowly he settled his foot on the cover and removed his hand. Standing upright once more, he grinned. It had worked. Apparently it could touch any part of his body and he would still retain his memory. After thoroughly washing his hands, Light picked up the book and turned off the light muttering, "Ha bitch. Kira wins again." Silently he opened the door and went to wake Misa, in hopes of finding her hair dryer.