BY YOUR PETTY LOGIC
Chapter One.
xxx
As you all know, I don't own Death Note.

Why did I write this? Good question. Why does anyone write a fanfiction? Really, though, I went looking through the "Humor" category of Death Note's section in and, while some were good, I found a lot of works that were near•identical, and nothing that really appealed to my wacko tastes. I figured that Death Note needed some diversity, some spice if you will -- a different kind of fanfiction. So here it is, written in my terribly strange style that characterized my previous work for Halo's "Humor" category, Inexplicable Sangheili Incidents 101. (Yes, I am the author of that. Forgetting your password sucks, by the way.) Sugar consumed to write this fanfiction: a bottle of Coke Black, cookie dough, candy cigarettes, and endless packs of Pez. pez pez pez pez ... erm, anyway, so that might explain some of the craziness. SOME. Big thanks to my friend CovenantDance-117, the other half of the amazing writing duo, who supported me through the crazy sugar filled night.

I hope you enjoy -- remember, reviews are always always welcome, flames are not.

xxx

The still hum of working electronics, the constant clicking of keys on a keyboard, the occasional clinking of tableware, and the all•too•often dropping of sugar cubes into tea that was sweetened to the oddest of tastes -- it wasn't long before Light Yagami found this to be his makeshift lullaby, night after night (and morning after morning) spent "assisting" Ryuuzaki in the constant hunt for clues on Kira. Granted, Light himself did work on it, but in the end, it was Ryuuzaki who sat in front of the screens, transfixed, working all hours while Light fell into sleep between twelve and three am, and was able to awake whenever he felt like it.

Today, however, was different. This time, he was violently roused out of subconsciousness by high•pitched wailing. This assured him that it was indeed not going to be a beautiful day in the neighborhood; if Mr. Rogers had been alive and had been around to see it, he would be horrified, for what was contained in this OMGSECRETIVE!!!1one11one! hotel was not fluffy puppets and kingdoms that can be ruled by bashing your head onto the keyboard (fun author's note: certain fanfictions can be written by this method), but rather the deep, sticky secrets of three youths that would change the lives of everyone in Japan, nay, the entire WORLD. Or some shit like that.

In any case, Light reluctantly opened his eyes to see an overly•upset Misa Amane pleading with his nearby and, as always, shoeless friend. Misa, on the verge of fake tears, was using her acting skills to the best of her ability in order to wring Ryuuzaki's conscience; but instead of looking like he had earned a one•way guilt trip, Ryuuzaki stared back at her, blankly, while appearing to half•consider her request.

"Misa•Misa just wants to spend some time with Light!" She lowered her voice considerably and inched towards a steadfast Ryuuzaki, hoping to convince him with some womanly charm. "Can't we go shopping together, just for a little while? Pleeaaaseeee?"

"I'm afraid not, Misa•san," he replied, calmly as he always did. He seemed to have no trouble speaking with a sugar cube halfway in his mouth. "It's extremely important that Light•kun and I work to find any clues available concerning Kira. And," he drummed his fingers on his denim•clad knees in an incomprehensible rhythm, "it's also very important that we keep you under tight surveillance at all times."

Misa threw her hands to her hips, clearly unsatisfied. "But you'll be with us at 'ALL TIMES!'" She pointed to the handcuffs + chain, only a meter or two long, that kept the two boys bound.

"I suppose, but --"

Ryuuzaki had no time to finish, as Misa, through with his shenanigans (YES I SAID IT), popped the poor lonely sugar cube out of his mouth and into hers, chewing on it with too much enthusiasm as she watched Ryuuzaki's eyes sink. Of course, she never stopped to think of the sugar cube's feelings, which were being trampled on with such force that was greater than or equal to the power used by Misa's jaw to crush its physical being. It would be appropriate to call this a mercy killing, as the sugar cube would have been so emotionally depressed had it not been chopped by Misa's canines that it would have exploded into a sugary whirl of sweet particles.

"I getttt ittt" Misa cooed savagely as she disemboweled the poor, angsty sugar cube. "I get why you don't want to leave! You wanna be in here, chained to Light, all by your self!" She emphasized that last part with a wink and a sort of come•hither gesture. I dunno. Something inexplicable in the English language. I DON'T KNOW. DON'T TALK TO ME ANYMORE.

Although he had been silently observing the entire time, Light shook off his grogginess to interject. "Misa, are you saying something to the effect that Ryuuzaki and I ..." He paused as the two boys looked at eachother incredulously. " ... could be in love?"

Unfortunately, no one knew better than to let him finish that sentence; and as a result, Physical Reality was thrown into a fit of unstoppable rage and began to contort itself. Spiritual Reality attempted to stop this, but relations between them were quite tense, so Spiritual Reality sighed and shook its head, reverting back to the heavens as Jesus called down to earth, "HAYGUYS, take care of yourself. And remember, camping is not a legitimate strategy." (Incidentally, Jesus was not seen to be a walking red lobster. If you see such an impostor, please contact your nearest Spiritual Reality as soon as possible.) Physical Reality continued with its temper tantrum, and its denizens were thrown about in zero gravity with trippy colors. It sure was crazy.

Once the horrible madness was finished, everything was back to normal -- except for the fact that Misa was now holding the box of Ryuuzaki's treasured sugar. She noticed this, and, after shaking off the feeling of seeing everything you know twisted in front of your eyes (must be contagious), she smirked cruelly.

"Either we go, or the sugar cubes go."

Ryuuzaki looked up at her with sunken eyes, but he replied without fear. "You've made a good argument, Misa•san."

xxx

If there was one thing Light and Ryuuzaki shared, it was their inherent distaste for where the youth of their generation gathered -- namely, the Shibuya district of Tokyo, where they were currently being dragged around by a bubbly Misa. She seemed to be the only one enjoying the shopping trip, but that was probably because she didn't have to carry the endless bags, a task that she forced onto Light, first, then Ryuuzaki after the first candidate was overloaded. Light was having a tough time, not only because of the constantly•multiplying number of shopping bags, but also because of the stares and comments he was getting since he was accompanying the famous idol, Misa•Misa. Ryuuzaki was having a tough time, not so much because of the luggage, as he took an interest in Misa's shopping, but mostly because he had to keep repeating the same thing to passerby who questioned the dark rings around his eyes: "It's NOT guyliner."

Regardless of her slightly•ditzy exterior, Misa was not a dumb girl; she knew just how much her companions were suffering, and had dragged out the trip just to give them what they deserved. However, she also knew that it was best to end this soon before something ... irreversible happened. No one can say what she had in mind right then, but rest assured that nothing to do with herself being tied to a stake as a virgin sacrifice to Kali while small, cyborg rodents danced around her, enacting a horribly crude and sacrilegious game of Dance Dance Revolution. Of course not. Why would you even say that?

"Misa•san," Ryuuzaki ventured carefully, "it's been close to three hours ... "

"I know, I know!" Misa replied in the cheeriest voice she could muster, after ... not envisioning that terrible aforementioned scene. "Just one more place, mmkay? This one, right here."

She steered the boys into a store that looked like it was on the streetcorner of hell itself. It wasn't a shop with bad clothes, per se -- rather, it was the atmosphere that made it so horrendous. The place blasted with vaguely recognizable music that the inhabitants of the store would claim as progressive post•modern soft•core alternative indie screamo punk•rock with its roots lying in certainly eclectic genres such as soul, R+B, and trance/electronica. In other words, music that should rightfully cause the downfall of man, but instead served as the fuel for many a youth looking for an individual packaged identity; and looks from the store's residents clarified that if indeed you were to question their esoteric knowledge of all things good and evil, you were to be shunned from all society -- or, at least, their society.

Light and Ryuuzaki saw this, both letting out a sigh. It was a curse to them that Misa was into this type of fashion. She passed through the doors unscathed, but a pair of nameless and faceless guards stopped both boys at the entrance, inspecting their style, or lack thereof. One of the guards, a girl, peered closely at Ryuuzaki's eyes, deeply darkened with fatigue. Ryuuzaki stiffened and shrank away as she got too close for comfort, and began preparing his usual line. "It's NOT guyli--"

The female guard stopped him. "HAYGUY, nice guyliner! This guy passes the test. GO AHEAD!!!!11" She gave him a bright and sunny grin that just confused the poor boy even more. He was going to shuffle after Misa, but he remembered that he was chained to Light, quite literally, and instead moved towards his companion, who was still being scrutinized.

"Test?" Light asked suspiciously. "I didn't see you give him, or that girl," he gestured towards a browsing Misa, "any sort of test."

"IT'S A HXC TEST, NOW SHUT UP, WE'RE INSPECTING OVER HERE!!" yelled the male guard, obviously trying to hide the fact that his real name was Betty.

Both Light and Ryuuzaki looked at eachother. "H ... X ... C?" Ryuuzaki's thumb was being nibbled on as he thought. "What exactly are you talking about?"

"ARE YOU BOTH STUPID?!?!!!111 WE TEST J00R SUPAR LEVEL OF HARDCORE ... NESS. IF YOU DON'T PASS THEN YOU'RE OBVIOUSLY NOT WORTHY TO ENTER THIS PLACE. LAWLZ." Betty was lawl'ing at his own, painfully unfunny joke.

"That doesn't make any sense," Light commented.

"IT DOESN'T HAVE TO! WE'RE RENEGADE YOUTHS!!11" Betty barked. His female partner laid a hand on his shoulder to calm him down and took over for him. "We don't want any trouble," she said calmly. "So please, state your scene."

"Our what?" Ryuuzaki asked inquisitively, thumb still being chewed on. This lesson in social studies was amusing him quite a bit.

"Your scene. Ya know, your label."

"So, you're saying that, if we give ourselves a label sold by the media, we'll be able to enter this store," Light said, trying to make sense of all this. "Otherwise, we can forget ... " He trailed off as he noticed both guards flailing and crying on the floor as they clutched their heads, convulsing with each of his words as if they were massive electric shocks.

"HE'S ... USING ... LOGICAL MIND GAMES!!11" Betty cried, a little too girlishly. "PSYCHOTISTICAL ... POWERS!!one!1" Yes, he actually did say "one," which made this even more strange to witness.

The female guard used her fast•fading energy to call out for help. "REQUESTING BACKUP! DO A FULL BODY TATTOO AND PIERCING SEARCH!!11"

A myriad of guards busted through the walls and surrounded Light, getting in position to strip him of his un•scene clothing in order to find possibly a tattoo and/or body piercings underneath, since tattoos and piercings symbolize your independence and level of hardcore ... ness. The council of media labels had once come up with a book containing systems of mathematical formulas to explain just how this worked, along with other mysteries of the social universe, but once they realized how inane the concept was, they dumped the book into a nearby sea and threw themselves into the friendly neighborhood volcano. Unfortunately, the horrid book screwed up the entire ecosystem of the sea and thus killed off all life forms living in it. And that, boys and girls, is how the Dead Sea was born. It's true. You can look it up in any history book and IT WILL BE THERE, DON'T DISPUTE ME.

In any case, Light was surrounded by guards in an instant, and not even Ryuuzaki could bust some faces with his Capoeira skills of great awesome. As the enemies closed in, beginning the removal of Light's pants, he knew that this could not be the end. He must live to catch Kira. He must live to become a great detective slash police officer. He must live to find out why exactly people used spoons and forks separately when they already had the greatest combination of both -- the spork. He had to live to experience all of these, and with this he knew there could only be one escape.

Before they could remove said pants (note to Light fangirls/fanboys: do not cry), Light summoned the last of his energy to sprint out into the street, charging through the crowd of guards, while Ryuuazaki dangled behind him by only a few meters' length of chain.

"Light•kun, what are you..."

Before Ryuuzaki had a chance to finish his inquiry, Light threw himself in front of a speeding bus that was conveniently raging down the road, effectively cutting the chain that bounded him and his raccoon•eyed partner and bringing the giant vehicle to a halt. Somehow, Light had retained consciousness, despite having his organs in danger of being grounded into a finely•spiced patty, and immediately regretted his decision; he rolled around, screaming incredibly loudly, like a beef 'n' cheese taquito on fire. Meanwhile, the bus, feeling guilt for all the world, transformed into a fascist spleen beaver with a pop! and began to tend to Light's wounds. And by "tend," I mean gnashing at the exposed meats with its enormous teeth. The shocked bystanders had a collective urge to coo, "Awwwwwww..." but at the sight of the fascist spleen beaver, a horrible disgrace to all things living, they, too, threw themselves on the ground and began screaming like taquitos on fire.

Just a short distance away, Ryuuazaki stared at this scene, his eyes even wider with confusion as he took in the fanatic cries of the taquito impostors. Misa, who was observing all this insanity, cowered behind the slouched detective, just as confused as he was about this whole situation. It seemed that nothing else but crazed, blood•curdling screams of humans who wished to be flaming, crappy Mexican food products would fill the air ... until Ryuuzaki dared to make yet another compelling statement.

"That," he mused with his thumb caught between his teeth, "was not supposed to happen."