Well, I guess a cake would be okay... [A slight grin.] Are you going to make it, Light? [It doesn't matter if she says no or not—too late, he's already picturing her wearing an apron and baking the way his mom used to, and that wrenches a snort from him, hand covering his mouth before he does something worse. Like giggle. Ugh.]

Would Zack really drag me off to a place like that? I mean... fifteen's still kind of young. How old were you when you first started doing that? Drinking, I mean. [Hope peers over at her now, the brief shadow over his mood seemingly dissipated once more, shifted back into curious-little-protege mode.]

Besides, if Zack really does do that... I bet it'll be me taking care of him.