Showers were how L dealt with stress, but they couldn't last forever. Eventually, like everyone else, he needed to suck it up and face the music. Toweling his strawberry-red skin off and giving his hair a quick ruffle, he put on the same grimy clothes he'd walked in with, having nothing else. That had been an unfortunate lack of foresight, on his part; too late now. Pushing the swinging door aside with the damp towel over his arm, he didn't expect to see Richard, and the way he immediately stiffened when he saw the older man probably said as much.

He tried to regain his composure; there was no real reason to be anything more than startled, the kind that came with thinking one was alone and then being proven wrong. Rewind. Reset. Try to find some kind of vaguely appropriate greeting for the aftermath of so your kid was shot in the head...

One didn't spring readily to mind.

"Before you say anything, I was at least as shocked as you were. I didn't know anything about this," he said, a carton of cigarettes and a lighter coming quickly out of his pocket. Having something to keep his hands busy helped.