A/N: I'd just like to apologise to anyone who was offended by the use of the Edelweiss Pirates. It was insensitive of me to use it, and I'm grateful that a reviewer pointed that out to me – I can be oblivious. Also, the German probably still isn't perfect, but I have tried to fix it. Again, I'm sorry, truly.

'…40 girls have been kidnapped from around the world at 3.00am. 5 of them are from England. Carrie Young, Sophie Langford, Elizabeth Hol…'

'…esident's daughter was taken at 3.00am this morning. 4 more girls, around the same age as Sandy, were also kidnapped around this time. They were all white daughters of well-to-do fam…'

'…Polizei keine Idee. Die Familien sind in vieler Verzweiflung und wir bitten um jedermann mit Informationen…'

Raito had been expected to be perfect at all times, with everything. It wasn't expectations from his family, or his teachers, or the outside world, but himself who exerted this pressure. Without the strain, he wouldn't have been able to be as good as he was, and he knew this. His brain, though brilliant, was prone to wander and laze unless a goal presented itself. It was when he was seven and first endured a beating for being a 'nerd', that Raito became interested in fighting.

He approached his father, who told him he'd teach him when he was older, and that fighting someone was not something to be taken lightly. Physical force was always a last resort, and should be dealt with carefully. Raito sat through his father's words and accepted them as gospel. And then, when he was fourteen years old, his father taught him how to fight according to the NPA's guidelines, with ten ways to kill and immobilise a man. His father taught him how to fight with honour, and how kicking someone when they were down was a bad thing to do. And then, when Raito had fully absorbed the lessons his father had to offer, he headed into the streets and learnt how to fight dirty, with people in alleyways where honour was as laughable as justice.

But his father's lessons had never left him. Soichiro was a good father, and had instilled the right kind of morals in his son. It wasn't his fault that a talented mind and days of boredom had warped and twisted these ideals into something else. It wasn't his fault humanity failed to live up to his expectations. He did what he could to keep his son on the right path.

And it was these ideals, this thought of honour, twisted and outdated as it was, that made Raito pause on the rainy rooftop.

"Of course, President. I shall inquire straight away." Watari's voice was warm, like the pages of an old book relaxing by the fire. "Again, I'm deeply sorry for your loss." The click resounded in the small room, and the old man rubbed at his temples. Sometimes he felt like nothing more than a secretary for the young prodigy. The phone rang and the man picked it up, light from a computer screen dancing on the liver-spotted hand.

"Hello, Prime Minister. I'm afraid he's out at the moment…"

The rain seemed to dance and bounce, hitting the slick surface of the rooftop and then rebounding as though the tower was too evil for them to touch. If that was the case, Raito thought he could sympathise. There had been too many bad times in the tower for him to regard it with any affection, and any good times he'd had while without his memories were tainted with his own self-loathing at being so close to L without killing him.

The rain didn't seem to be stopping any time soon, and the sound was almost deafening. Of course, L seemed oblivious. L always seemed oblivious, part of his carefully constructed persona. Sometimes Raito had dreams about the persona being as fragile as a card castle, and he pictured himself knocking the cards together and watching pieces of L fall away to reveal…Who? Who was L underneath that supposedly dazed exterior? Who was it that he had forced Rem to kill?

It was this that was causing him to wonder if this was truly the right thing to do.

"Ryuuzaki."

Yet another persona. He wondered where that came from, wondered if these names all had some significance to the enigma that was L. And he was such a puzzle, something that Raito's mind had pored over, traced every detail, every bump, and tried to find some weakness, all to no avail. Could he let such a puzzle go without figuring it out?

"Kira-sama! Kill the kidnappers! Return our girls to us! Please!"

"Give the girls back, give the girls back, someone give the girls back!"

"Oh, Lord, where art thou? Where art thou, Kami-sama? Why hast thou forsaken us?" The placards jostled and fought with each other and the voices wound together like threads to create a rope with which to hang the kidnappers.

A brave reporter held out a microphone to a distraught citizen and said, "What is your opinion on the kidnappings?"

"How could something like this happen in Kira's world? Tell me that! Why would that 'God' allow this to happen?"

The genius turned towards L, and the eyes seemed to be made of quicksilver, emotions making the dark grey depths swirl and shift shades. It struck Raito that L's eyes were like justice, shades of grey, not black and white, and it hit him hard that he hadn't thought of it before. How much is undiscovered?

"Can you hear the bells?"

Bells? What bells? He shook his head, replied in the negative, and tried to hear something over the din of the rain. But even their voices seemed to be struck by the tiny droplets of water, the volume shifting like the colour of L's eyes.

"We should go back in." And that voice that was all Kira's spoke and hissed in the back of his mind about how the mighty L should be humiliated in front of the task force, and that his death should be watched and mocked. He closed his eyes tighter, because this was what he wanted, this was what he needed. L needed to die.

So, why did he feel like he was making the biggest mistake of his life?

The adrenalin should have been pumping right now, and there should be some kind of smug satisfaction and that usual, giddy feeling of being God should've inhabited his body.

L nodded, and seemed defeated, which didn't help Raito, didn't help at all. He walked passed, laid a hand on Raito's shoulder, and the touch seared his skin. This man is going to die, this man is going to die…Why? Because he told me to? Because he's the biggest threat? But look at the world; it's already practically crime-free. Because he can expose me? But I'm going to do that anyway, sit atop the throne of my new world, as God, as Justice. So why?

Their footsteps echoed on the stairs, and the resonance seemed to sting at Raito's ears. He rubbed his watch against his skin, felt the warm metal slide around his slender wrist. It was a nervous habit these days, a tell, but he didn't stop it. There was no point. The only person who would notice was walking in front of him, dripping droplets that sang metallic notes as they hit the floor, apparently resigned to his death.

Raito wondered what had given him away. A certain light in his eyes? A certain grin at the wrong time? It was impossible, but L seemed to know that his time was up. And that scared Raito just a little bit, and filled him with righteous indignation. Why did L know him so well, and why did he know so little of the spindly detective?

Maybe it was the fact that, even though he'd won the game and proven he was better, it didn't feel right when L wasn't in possession of all the facts. Maybe it was because – and Raito's breath hitched as realisation crashed down. Words flew through his mind in the rumbling voice of his father, the phlegm-y catch at the back of his throat a testament to a habit he'd given up for his kids. There was no honour in this kind of fight, no honour in out-witting his opponent by merely holding some of the cards out of his reach.

He'd often wondered what L would have done if the notebook had fallen down in front of his…what school did L go to? Did he even go to school? How long had he been masquerading as L? All these questions and they made the water murky, made his thoughts unclear and his convictions – his convictions – he let out a sound of anger and punched the wall.

L turned slightly to him, lifted his thumb to his lips and said, "Is Yagami-kun okay?" Yagami-kun, Yagami-kun…what happened to Raito-kun? And where were the percentages, quoted whenever Raito slipped up or displayed more emotions than he should have? Where was his L?

"I'm fine." L stared at him a little longer with those quicksilver eyes, and then nodded.

"Yagami-kun knows best." And that simple, absent-minded statement sent a new wave of anger through Raito and all he wanted was some kind of fight. Some kind of battle. Just like before. Anything but this quiet resignation.

Logged in: Hershey

Logged in: Hail-Kira

Logged in: Lappen

Hershey: Where are the rest?

Logged in: J'aime

Logged in: Mao Tse Tung

Logged in: Kat67

Lappen: Impatient as always, Hershey. Inu paged me earlier and said he was having some difficulty getting out of the country.

Logged in: Kira-luva

Hershey: Nice of you to join us, KL. Did your business dealings go well?

Kira-luva: 'Course. In my country, transactions are carried out promptly and efficiently.

Hail-Kira: We was O.K.

Lappen: Ja, es war sehr gut und wir treffen - Ah, sorry, English, English. You don't understand German, do you, Hail-Kira? Barely understand English.

Hail-Kira: Fuck you, Lappen.

Lappen: Know the naughty words though. Arschloch. We met up with some of my men, spread the goods around. What about everyone else, did they get their packages?

Hershey: Yes.

J'aime: Oui.

Kat67: Yeah.

Mao Tse Tung: Yes.

Hershey: Well, you know what to do from here on out. Distribute them evenly.

Kira-luva logged out.

Mao Tse Tung logged out.

Lappen: Hey Hail-Kira, use a translator for the big words, ja?

Hail-Kira logged out.

J'aime logged out.

Kat67: Who's making the broadcast, then?

Lappen: There are more Americans than English or Germans. I say you, Hershey.

Kat67: Are you kidding? He's got a really strong NY accent.

Hershey: I'll be using a voice modifier anyway. It'll be too scrambled for them to notice my accent.

Hershey: Anyway, we have other business. Lappen, stop antagonising our India connection. If he gets angry and pulls out, we're fucked.

Lappen: Never heard/read you swear before, Hershey. Ok. I've got some fancy foreigner in my shop, talk at the next meeting. Next week, in Justice Serves You Kira, ja?

Kat67: In JSYK? I thought it was here again? Whatever. Bye.

Lappen logged out.

Hershey: I'll send it to the Kanto area of Japan first, okay?

Kat67: Watch yourself, brother.

Hershey: Don't worry. I've been watching CSI.

Kat67: -laughs- See you.

Kat67 logged out.

Hershey logged out.

Raito stared down at the head of black hair that moved ever so slightly as the detective dried Raito's feet. The Kira in him was gleeful, because never before had L looked so submissive, never before had he bowed down before Kira. And that was his correct position, to bow down in front of the glory that was Kira, that was Raito. So why did it unsettle him?

L looked up, and the eyes caught his attention. L was saying something and so was he, but he couldn't recall what it was. He remembered the cold of the tiles on his hands though, as he braced himself on his palms. And he could remember the puffs of L's breath that warmed his legs and the way he could see the muscles flexing under L's shirt. He didn't know if L knew it or not, but when the light hit his white t-shirts in a certain way, they became translucent. Raito didn't know when he'd found this out, only that he knew it, and he knew it well.

It seemed wrong, but he couldn't do anything about it, and Kira was cackling wildly in the back of his head like a baddie in a B-rated horror film. Everything seemed muted, and Raito truly felt for the first time, that he was in a world of his own, that this was his new world, and L was there, looking at him with those quicksilver eyes that he'd never noticed before now. And then Matsuda ran into the world of cold tiles and clean sunlight, and their eyes snapped to his panicked form.

"Raito! L! Come look!" And they stood up, L's knees cracking ever so slightly underneath the denim of his jeans. Raito tried to catch the emotions again in L's eyes, but they were shut off, as blank and dazed as they'd been that first time in the exam hall. And Kira rejoiced at the homecoming of his opponent, but Raito hated it, almost as much as he hated what he needed to do. And then Raito was gone. And Kira grinned.

He walked into the room with the big TV and the computer screens glaring at him with bulbous eyes. His father turned to him, and so did the rest of the force. That was how it was meant to be – pay attention to Kira, and only Kira. Then he caught sight of what was on TV and his breath hitched.

(Mommy? Mommy, where are you? Are you…are you…)

The fabric of the ties rubbed against Sandy's wrists when she tried to move, and she cried out, but the gag in her mouth muffled the sound. A smell she was unfamiliar with, metallic and old and damp, attacked her senses and filled her head with a muggy fog. She could hear footsteps to the front of her and a voice with a New York accent saying, "Smile, Sandy. The whole world's watching you now."

And that sounded so much like what her mother had said when her father had won the election that she cried, big, fat tears sliding down her cheeks like slugs.

(Mommy? Mommy? Where are you…? I wanna go home, I wanna go…I wanna go home…)

Kira felt L move past him, felt the fabric of his shirt rub against his own, and then the spidery detective was sitting on a swivel chair that he turned to speak into a microphone.

"Watari, what is this?" The man's voice was monotone, and Kira was glad to see the lack of resignation and the return of some kind of life. What would be the fun in killing something already dead? And in some place, deep down, it sickened Raito that he found some kind of enjoyment in killing people.

"A tape sent to Sakura TV. The group who sent it are calling themselves CU."

Raito tilted his head, frowning. 'CU' could be an acronym for various phrases, and didn't even give a country of origin.

A mechanical voice, similar to L's when he had first sent out the broadcast where he had tricked Raito with Lind. L. Taylor, spoke out into the silent room. "We are CU. We are the only ones willing to stand against Kira.

"Kira! We speak to you! This morning at 3.00am, 40 girls were kidnapped. Five from these countries – the UK, America, Germany, France, South Korea, Japan, India and China. If you do not relinquish your notebook - " There was a collective gasp. Raito's eyes were fixed on the blonde girl on the screen. His fists were clenched as his eyes darted from the blindfold, to the gag, to the way all her limbs were bound, to the dirty room she was in and the newspaper with today's date stuck on the back wall. "We will kill a girl each day. And we will kidnap more. You cannot find us. You cannot kill us. And you will give up your power. If you wish to do so, contact us via TV, and we will send more information. And L! Do not try to find us. We will find you. And we will deal only with you. Once the notebook is handed over, we will surrender to you." The screen flickered and the image of the girl faded quickly.

Raito left the room immediately after the broadcast was finished, a hand held over his mouth as he feigned sickness. He needed to find Rem.

L tilted his head. The task force room was cleared, Raito having gone home, and the others having left for their rooms. He pushed the cake away from him, sighed and stretched his arms out in front of him. The muscles and bones clicked into place. The sounds echoed in the room in a way that he was entirely familiar with.

"Watari. Continue the experiment with the notebook and the prisoners." There was a pause.

"L? Are you sure that's entirely - "

"Yes. I am sure. And then get me Roger on the phone." L stared at the cake. Today, he had been so sure… " I wish for Near, Mello and Matt."

A/N: I promised myself that I would do a DN chaptered fic when I had the chance. I don't really have the chance, and should be working on Hear Me Out, but…-shrug- FF's messed up again and I can't get to the documents in document manager, meaning I can't finish writing up chapter five.

I'm not sure if this will be a MattxMello or an LxRaito. Or both, though that seems unlikely. Either way, it'll be yaoi. So sorry, het-lovers…But have you noticed how male dominated the Death Note-verse is? I mean, really…talk about a patriarchal society…

And yes, this is fractured and everything, but I figured that a lot was going on, so…Not all the chapters will be like this. Uhm. Is it too hard to follow?

Disclaimer: Don't own, but please, please someone sell me the rights…

The formatting might be screwed up on this as my Doc manager seems to be rebelling. I've tried fixing the html manually, but...Well, I'm no Matt.