[L is one of those unfortunate people whose reassurances can sound like rebukes; the opposite has also been known to be true. It's what happens when someone grows obsessed with finding his own pulse, and overcompensates by saying the words that any other living person would surely say, to great and correct and successful effect.

How much of that does Paul understand? Is the real reason L haunts these obligations so happily purely because he found Paul's pulse and mistook it for his own?]

I'll consider some ways to ensure efficacy without overdosing, as well as the time frame for maximum effect.

[Probably completely safely and sanely.

He nods, dark eyes taking on a focused but faraway look as he considers.]

A pattern is almost always significant. If I were inclined to be optimistic, I'd say that it could represent a terminal cycle. A departure from safety, and then a return to safety.

[But L is never truly inclined to be optimistic. He wishes he could mean that and put his faith behind it, but he continues.]

It could also be a rut. Something that's never completed that you can't move on from. A sort of prison fixation.

[And a fatalistic one; doom waits in the water, and it also waits on land.]

It's conjecture. Don't let it influence the way you think too much.