El, Nia, Matt, Mello, Light

The headquarters building was completely isolated from the outside world, and all communication channels were filtered by the government's "Protocol-0" filter. There were no cameras inside—the new leadership relied on total censorship of information and the harshest internal reports. Any careless word recorded in the reports, or even an ambiguous hint in the presence of witnesses, led to immediate arrest for "undermining morale."
Six people—you, L, Light, Mello, Matt, and Near—found themselves locked in a single spacious office. The mutual attraction and desire to pay attention to you remained, but now they had to proceed with pinpoint caution, waging a complex verbal duel right at the table.
Light sat at the head of the table, carefully sorting through official printouts. His slender fingers held a pen confidently. He was the first to break the silence, addressing you directly but maintaining a completely businesslike, cold tone:
"We need to establish a clear roster and assign data analysis responsibilities. I suggest you take the night shifts with me. As a manager, I'm obligated to personally oversee your work to avoid errors in the reports."
There wasn't a single clue in his flawless voice that could have been censored, but the gaze of his brown eyes directed at you was unusually dark and lingering. Light was openly proposing a plan: to remain alone in an empty office, under a legal pretext, where no one could report what happened between you behind closed doors.
Al, sitting on a stool with his feet up, slowly lowered his empty cup onto its saucer. The sound of the porcelain made it clear how intensely he was concentrating.
"I'm categorically against this plan, Yagami-kun," L said monotonously, not looking up from his laptop screen. "Your productivity drops by twelve percent at night. It would be much wiser if she were in my sector. I need someone who can record my thoughts when I'm... distracted."
L turned his head towards you for a second. His dark eyes, from beneath his tousled bangs, remained fixed on your face. Without a single touch, simply by the force of his authority, he thwarted Light's plan, offering you a kind of refuge next to his chair—so close you could hear his breathing.
Mello, sitting at the edge of the table, irritably threw his half-eaten chocolate bar onto the cloth. His patience was clearly wearing thin. He looked defiantly first at Light, then at L, and finally turned his blazing gaze to you.
"Enough of this nonsense about graphs," Mello cut them off sharply, his voice hovering just above the legal limit. "Censorship prohibits us from using certain wording in reports, right? Well, I have my own plan for bypassing their security filters. And I need a reliable partner who won't be afraid to break a few idiotic instructions. You're coming with me to the archives. Right now."
It was a direct display of attention—aggressive, possessive, in his signature style. Mello didn't try to touch you; he kept his hands in his jacket pockets, but his body was tense, like a taut string. He was offering you a rebellion, dangerous and enticing, where it would be just the two of you against the entire system.
Matt, not looking up from his portable console, lazily blew a stream of smoke from his mouth. His fingers clicked loudly as he fiddled with the buttons.
"Mello, you're making too much noise," Matt remarked calmly. "Why go anywhere? The communication filters only block text and audio. But they can't block the local network I just set up between our devices."
The screen of your tablet on the table flickered briefly. A text message from Matt appeared, bypassing all government restrictions. "They all talk too much. If you want to escape this stuffy lecture, look at me." You looked up. Matt pushed his glasses down slightly, winked at you, and smiled faintly. He'd found a way to communicate with you without words, creating a closed, intimate digital world right under everyone else's noses.
Near, sitting on the floor by the sofa, quietly constructed a complex castle out of blocks. His pale fingers carefully placed one piece on top of the other. He didn't participate in the general discussion, but his quiet voice silenced everyone:
"You're all making a tactical error. By trying to isolate her or force her to break the rules, you're only attracting the attention of the censors. You need to be more subtle."
Near raised his piercing gray eyes and looked at you. He slowly reached out and carefully pulled one of the loose soft rugs across the floor right up to his feet, leaving the perfect, permitted distance between himself and the spot.
"Sit here. We'll analyze Kira's connections through the placement of these pieces. Censorship won't be able to stop us from looking at the same map."
It was a strikingly graceful display of attention. Near was inviting you into his personal space, offering to sit so close that your shoulders would almost touch, yet formally remaining within the strictest protocol.
Five brilliant minds stood frozen in anticipation of your answer. A ringing silence filled the room. No one made any unnecessary movements, no one tried to close the distance by force, but the air between you was literally electric with their plans, hidden hints, and silent competition for the right to be closer to you.

The headquarters building was completely isolated from the outside world, and all communication channels were filtered by the government's "Protocol-0" filter. There were no cameras inside—the new leadership relied on total censorship of information and the harshest internal reports. Any careless word recorded in the reports, or even an ambiguous hint in the presence of witnesses, led to immediate arrest for "undermining morale."
Six people—you, L, Light, Mello, Matt, and Near—found themselves locked in a single spacious office. The mutual attraction and desire to pay attention to you remained, but now they had to proceed with pinpoint caution, waging a complex verbal duel right at the table.
Light sat at the head of the table, carefully sorting through official printouts. His slender fingers held a pen confidently. He was the first to break the silence, addressing you directly but maintaining a completely businesslike, cold tone:
"We need to establish a clear roster and assign data analysis responsibilities. I suggest you take the night shifts with me. As a manager, I'm obligated to personally oversee your work to avoid errors in the reports."
There wasn't a single clue in his flawless voice that could have been censored, but the gaze of his brown eyes directed at you was unusually dark and lingering. Light was openly proposing a plan: to remain alone in an empty office, under a legal pretext, where no one could report what happened between you behind closed doors.
Al, sitting on a stool with his feet up, slowly lowered his empty cup onto its saucer. The sound of the porcelain made it clear how intensely he was concentrating.
"I'm categorically against this plan, Yagami-kun," L said monotonously, not looking up from his laptop screen. "Your productivity drops by twelve percent at night. It would be much wiser if she were in my sector. I need someone who can record my thoughts when I'm... distracted."
Al turned his head towards you for a second, his dark eyes widening.