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That lift and drop a question on your plate [Death Note]


Title:
That lift and drop a question on your plate Fandom: Death Note
Rating: PG
Word Count: 423
Summary: Light and Ryuuzaki, and some reflections on the fruit.
Light and Ryuuzaki not belong to me, as I do not belong any copyright on the series concerned, the title is - as seems to be my usual style - stolen from a poem by TS Eliot. The only thing I can proudly declare to be my-my-my that is the box of mangoes they are anxiously waiting to be eaten by me.





"A mango yellow," Ryuuzaki says unabashedly, "is forever." Light raises a fine, fine brow, ending on the computer to type the string of numbers in the password to access the internal network of the general headquarters, turning his wheelchair to forty degrees, to furtively watching him.

Ryuuzaki is peeling from one big Pakistani mango, staining your fingers and the keyboard sticky juice.

"What do you mean?"

Light asks in a tone intentionally and deliberately amused curiosity, partly because they are the feelings that best suit the situation and particularly because they are the feelings that want to project.

"Light-kun," Ryuuzaki said solemnly, "must come to understand some things alone."

Light pretends to be surprised by such a cryptic response. Ponder for a moment, and then says:

"The only thing I can figure out," fiddling with a ballpoint pen and making it twirl in his fingers, "is that the mangoes you can challenge the knives in the normal way .

"Ah."

"Oh?"

Ryuuzaki smiled slightly. "There are, perhaps, that peel from the fruit itself tends to be more satisfying than it already in slices ready to eat? "

Light arches, this time, the other eyebrow." I might as well think so, "he admits," but honestly, I can not claim to believe this statement quite amusing, mainly because from

you, "treading on the item you

final. Ryuuzaki hangs in the act of mouthing a piece perfectly pentagonal. The porcelain plate is equally devastated by pieces of skin stacked one above the other and filled small pieces and chunks of fruit elegantly carved in geometric regular Ryuuzaki slowly lowers the knife stuck on the slice of mango, and turns to lay down face Light. "I do not understand the meaning of your words, Light-kun," he says, without betraying any emotion.

Light gives a shrug of the shoulders, turning forty degrees to the screen of the computer that is working. "Ryuuzaki," Light said with solemnity and a hint of mockery, "must come to understand some things alone."

Ryuuzaki looks for another couple of seconds, not blink, and then, as if nothing had happened, he returned to his taste to swallow with slices of ripe mango.