Remaining calm, in some situations, was easier said than done. Like most truly neurotic people, L had certain rules he clung to, little standards of control that remained in place at all costs and in spite of any inconvenience they might pose to others as he went about ritualistically maintaining them.

The stainless steel of L's partial Weapon form definitely caught the beam of Nanami's flashlight, but if she cared to shine it on his face, she would see that it was deathly pale, even for L, and that he'd been using enough force to leave deep scratches on the doors, but nothing more.

Attempting to get some leverage, he dug the teeth of the bear trap (hanging from his chain where his hand would ordinarily be) into the division, bracing himself against the floor, losing his slippery metal-on-metal grip, and falling back against the wall and the rail, shaking violently.