It's funny. I pictured the inside of his car to be beige. It's a carman neutral colour – safe, boring.

Just like him.

He's rummaging in his pockets for the keys, his russet stare marked on the steering wheel.

He hasn't seen me yet.

Holding my smirk at bay – very badly – I dangle the car keys in front of his nose. His trouser pockets aren't exactly Fort Knox. Dr. Light's movements cease like a drowning animal, while his piercing gaze moves to the culprit.

Hello Doc'.

Did you miss me?

"Give me those," he snaps, but I snatch them away.

"You're supposed to be my Doctor, not my stalker".

"I dabble". He shrugs, and using my brief chuckle, reaches for the keys. His hand moulds around mine. Eventually, I let them go. Fortunately for him, petty key theft isn't why I'm here. Mostly.

Leaning into the upholstery, I let out a sigh. Light scowls and inserts the keys to bring his panther purring to life. The noise is pitiful.

"What are you doing here?" he asks as he reverses. I slide my arms behind my head. Now this is my idea of fun. The Doc' is so easy to fluster, and almost as much fun to tease as Alice.

"Can we go to a bar?" Why not? At least he's of legal drinking age. I can be his plus one.

"No," comes the growling reply. Ah-ha, I have awoken the beast. It might be my own. At this point, there's no telling which one is more dangerous. But I'll give you a hint...it's possibly, definitely mine. I am the beast.

I don't mind being the monster. I enjoy it, in fact.

The Academy waves a hearty goodbye, all bricked up promises off limits until tomorrow. It isn't even one' o clock yet.

Dr. Light inches the car onto the highway, pulling precariously around the bends. I could drive faster than him. I mean, there's obeying the speed limit and then there's making the speed limit an overbearing God. Light must have a secret shrine dedicated to all the special speed cameras and signs. The more I picture it, the more I want to laugh. Biting my tongue isn't as nearly as much fun.

Still, today I have an agenda. Surprised? I need to ask.

As we near a junction, I pop the question.

"Can you teach me to drive?" Light's eyes shine white and he slams on the brakes. The cars behind beep in a symphony.

"You can't be serious. Absolutely not". I pucker my lips.

"Please?"

"No".

"What about sport? Physical education? That old thing? Ringing any bells Doc'?" The car revs once again, but still manages to be overtaken by an elderly lady driving a bright red van. He turns to me, refusing eye contact. Spines dig into my skin, push my blood around. His very presence is toxic.

"It's you," he says out of nowhere. My eyebrows furrow.

"You're the one who wants to do P.E. Alice asked for you". I bet that's more than he's ever done for Mr. Dark.

When I open my mouth, he coughs suddenly.

"The answer is still no. She could get hurt".

"I won't let her," I snarl, but he doesn't seem to be listening. He zooms in on the dust-ridden dashboard, the readings on the rev-o-metre, the fuel gauge. Anything but me. The forest of metal, the empty trash cans by the roadside. Anything and everything except me, he soaks up. Rustling leaves beg to fill the silence. They don't quite reach us, holed up in a cabin of silicon and glass.

I clear my throat, realisation surging. I see. I see it now.

I'm not entirely sure why I didn't see it earlier.

I suppose it's the same reason I struggle to look at him.

By now, suburbia lurks on the horizon. Another meaningless image, all sugar coated. Surreal.

Smiling, I dip my head.

"You really hate me don't you," I start. "And not just because you think I killed your friend".

He's silent.

"You hate me because when you look at me, you only see her". There. The truth is out in the open, swimming between us like a child lost at sea.

"I'm not her okay," I tell him. Force him to look at me.

"I'll never be her".

We don't speak at all after that.

Even when the car rolls to a stop.

We're silent.