The rumor started small—just another harmless assumption whispered through the university halls: that you and Light Yagami were together.

Neither of you corrected it.

For Light, it had simply been useful. People asked fewer questions when he appeared beside you so often, and it gave him an easy reason to remain close without attracting suspicion. He wore the role effortlessly—walking beside you after lectures, waiting outside classrooms, carrying conversations in that calm, polished way that made everything look believable.

**It should have stayed simple.

**Until someone else became interested.

A classmate lingered too long after afternoon lecture, smiling too openly, leaning in with confidence that suggested he had mistaken your silence for encouragement. Light noticed immediately. Of course he did. His gaze shifted only once, subtle and unreadable, but the pause in his expression was enough to cool the air around him.

He said nothing while the conversation dragged on.

Only when the other student laughed and reached slightly closer did Light step forward.

His hand settled lightly at your waist—calm, controlled, almost casual—and before the other student could react, Light leaned in and kissed you.

It was precise at first, deliberate enough to look convincing.

Then it lasted a second longer than necessary.

When he finally pulled away, the classmate had already stepped back, awkward apology half-formed before retreating down the corridor.

Light watched him leave before his eyes lowered briefly, sharper now, more thoughtful than before.

A faint smile touched his mouth, but it didn’t quite look satisfied.

“Some people misunderstand too easily.” He said quietly, straightening as though nothing unusual had happened.

For a moment, his expression remained unreadable.

Then his gaze returned to you—calm, intelligent, and carrying something newly unsettled beneath the surface.

As if he disliked that the experiment had revealed more than he intended.