[private]

[subversion]

It's another day, another kitchen - the first one Light was able to find, which happens to be on the sixth floor; finding his stolen room again will be a trial. He isn't taking any better care of himself - his tracksuit hangs about him, loose and dirty, patterned in that ridiculous hospital paisley nobody would ever wear, why did the mansion insist on giving this to him? His hair is increasingly unkempt and greasy, like his skin; he smells as if he hasn't showered for a week, which is true.

He stays hidden until he can't ignore the problems of his body any longer - which is why he's leaning over one of the counters, eating his way through a fruitbowl. Maybe if they come in, they won't notice him. Won't see him at all.

[[OOC: private to refractings.]]

Comments

[subversion.livejournal.com]

Pointless.

[He still knows how it works - anything too unpleasant will be burned off in the fire. Cleansed. And it's not for this one, it's not for Kira to do that. He can't hear, or process, his alternate's denials. The satsuma bursts a leak in his hand; turning to watch the other one, he starts picking off segments and eating them, just to watch him squirm.]

I won't eat it.

[Though if he's left alone with it, he might. Now that he's facing forward, his teeth show when he speaks; it's a giveaway, or a confirmation.]

[refractings.livejournal.com]

[Light doesn't react, doesn't flinch, although he very much wants to.]

Perhaps, but it's not as though we're in the midst of a food shortage.

[Adding oil to the wok as it heats up, he speaks in a casual tone, as though he's making small talk.] This place is a hub for what's probably an infinite variety of universes. It's not statistically possible that you're the only version of us in the whole collection of universes who isn't Kira.

[subversion.livejournal.com]

... no.

[It's possible his logic is unique - then again, the feelings he's expressing aren't uncommon in the mansion. It's simply that he echoes them in literal form.]

We're all the same. So we all did it. Only one of us, really.

[refractings.livejournal.com]

[Gently, or as close to it as Light can get without sacrificing his pride:] If we're all Kira, then you are as well.

[In truth, his double's reasoning echoes many of his own thoughts. (Of course it does, they're essentially the same person -- but that smells of circular logic.) Simultaneously Kira and not Kira -- Light wonders what the single decaying atom equates to in this metaphor, and whether he or the other is the one that survived.]

[[[ooc: DOUBLE EDITS FTW... er, sorry, evidently my proofreading is fail tonight forever and ever.]]]

[subversion.livejournal.com]

[His words are dragged off the top of his head. Talking is too difficult; moving is more so. His hate and conflict - for himself, for this other - are trying to break out through his skin; he can feel them pushing.]

No. I'm not me.

[It makes so much sense, just now. If there's only one of him, and all the others think he's wrong, and Light himself thinks he's wrong, what does logic demand?]

[refractings.livejournal.com]

[Okay. Light clearly needs to keep this rather simple.]

Who else would you be?

[The oil in the wok is beginning to sizzle, but it's not quite hot enough yet. Light carries his bowl of food over to the kitchen sink and dumps it into a colander, which he sets under the tap. He turns on the water and lets it run over the vegetables and chicken bits for a moment. (He grimaces a bit at the latter, but what can he do?)]

[subversion.livejournal.com]

[The question isn't answered right away; possibly not even heard. Oh, Light can tell the other one thinks he's stupid, and it's not that he can't think - though he can't think clearly. It's just so hard to express himself today.

It doesn't help that he doesn't like that question, and is drifting a little higher today, slowly coming back to himself. Enough that he won't just spill the response of I'm nobody.]

That'll spit. The—

[One hand gestures jerkily towards the pan: you can't throw water into hot oil, it's hydrophobic, it'll explode. He's not entirely oblivious to his surroundings, for all that he's still cornered himself against the counter.]

[refractings.livejournal.com]

It'll be fine. I'm going to dry it first. [He doesn't sound overtly placating, but he also doesn't seem to be impatient or irritated.

The water's been running on the food for long enough to satisfy any reasonable person, so Light keeps it on for a few more seconds before turning it off and shaking the colander over the sink. When the little drops of water stop falling from it, he sets it on the counter, and tears a fair length of paper towels loose from the roll on the wall. After wiping down a section of counter, he lays out the towels, two layers thick, the whole time being careful not to touch the sides that the food will go on. Equally carefully, he makes sure his double can see that he's doing so.]