The clattering, conflicting impulses finally untangle themselves, leaving something Light can definitely say, and is oh so very determined to believe. "I don't need her." One hand slides into the bag he's hiding, and the smile reasserts himself. Like he'd back down. Like he's capable of anything, by now, other than running on instinct.
It's clear enough that whatever comes out next is heading straight for A.
no subject
It's clear enough that whatever comes out next is heading straight for A.