Phantom Note (One-Shot)

L "casually" walked into his favorite bakery. By casually, it meant he was equipped with the typical L-slouch, unbearable hair, and raccoon-like eyes. Of course, since no one else seemed to be in the bakery besides the cashier (a decent women, though she was rather annoying), his appearance didn't exactly matter.

The girl glanced at him, her face scrunching up a bit, before she forced a smile on her face. L noticed the way her demeanor held displeasure but from the looks of the hand print mark on her wrist he also inferred her home life probably wasn't the best either. The bags under her eyes were hardly visible from the make up she skillfully applied, but L could tell from the way her shoulders sagged slightly and how her hair was more raggedy than usual that the women wasn't in the best of moods.

L wasn't sure if he wanted to annoy her at not, but he did decide he was rather eager to get his cake, and he would've preferred it to be not toxic.

"Hello, how can I help you?" she dragged on, adding a small sigh to the end of her sentence.

L placed his thumb between his lips before pointing at the strawberry cake. "I'll have two."

The girl, or Hana, as her name tag read, removed a few slices from the kit and placed them on the counter top. L handed her a credit card (one that couldn't be traced under any circumstance) and let her ring it up.

"Enjoy you're desserts," the girl sighed, passing him the plate.

L took it and turned around. The delicate strawberries on the top of the pastries were calling to him, an the sooner he sat down to eat them the—

Turning around quickly wasn't the best idea, L admitted to himself, when the person behind him ended up running into his plate and smashing the cakes against the shirt.

"Oh, I'm so sorry!"

American accent, though near perfect Japanese. Black hair, blue eyes, skinny yet has muscle—acrobat? No, more likely martial arts. Swimming is a possibility, though. No, not swimming. Swimmers smell like chlorine, he smells more like sushi. Probably ate at the sushi place down the street.

Cheap clothing, generally worried expression, kind but low class. How'd a low class American get in Japan? Young, early twenties by the looks of it, perhaps scholarship student? Looks fit to be it, or perhaps he has a rich family member. Explains his black hair and shorter figure.

"I didn't mean to ruin your cakes," the guy laughed nervously, rubbing the back of his neck. He winced, realizing his hand was coated in icing, then wiped his hands on the side of his shirt before apologizing again. "I'll buy you new ones, if you'd like. Strawberry, right?"

L blinked, having realized he'd been examining the fellow, then nodded slightly. "Yes. I suppose that would be kind."

The guy raised an amused eyebrow before laughing lightly. "Okay, then." Looking over L's shoulder, the guy met the girl's eyes. "Can you get whatever he ordered and add a chocolate cake? Whole, and to-go, too, please."

L heard the girl sigh. He would've looked back, but he was too busy focusing on the boy's hand. There looked to be small, minor scars and burns running along it. Perhaps he went through a time of cutting himself? No, the cuts don't look intentional, and some look years old while others look weeks. And the burns are less common. Abusive family? Escaped to Japan to escape them? Illegal immigrant? Then why is he buying desserts at a place like this? It's too expensive for his clothing choice. Or perhaps he's simply spending his money a different way.

Hm, there's an underline scent of rosemary on him. Perfume. Girlfriend? Runaway to be with a lover? Interesting. Doesn't appear like the type. Then again, looks are deceiving.

The boy walked behind him and collected the purchases, L's cakes on a plate and the box for the whole cake tucked in a bag. "Here you go. Sorry about the trouble."

When the boy turned to head out, L found himself saying, "Are you American?" He couldn't very well let the boy leave. He had invoked his curiosity. Discrete questioning would give him all the answers he needed.

The guy froze, and L then realized he tensed ever so slightly. He relaxed quickly, but that one second was enough to inform L that something had happened to make him jumpy. Perhaps he was abused. There was always the chance the source of the perfume could be the remaining scent of his mother's.

"Yeah, I am. Is my Japanese that bad?" He laughed lightly again, as if trying to hide the fact he had seemed jumpy. If L had been a normal person, he would never have noticed the way his voice changed a tad before it fell back.

But L was naturally gifted with noticing and deducting things.

"Quite the contrary; it's near perfection," L informed, moving to the side and picking a form up off a table. "You're accent it thin, but still noticeable, however."

The boy cocked his head slightly, a small smile coming to his face. L wasn't exactly sure if it was there because he was relieved, or another reason entirely. Actually, he looked somewhat amused. Interesting.

"You don't exactly sound Japanese, either," he mentioned, his tone underlined with a teasing voice. "Bit British, am I right?"

He noticed that? He was more clever than L originally gave him credit for. His accent was easily masked by him, but it was challenging to mask the origin of his voice fully.

L nodded. "Yes, though I moved long ago. I am Hideki Ryuga." L plopped a bit of cake in his mouth, pleased with the sweetness. The bakery was his favorite for a reason; it never failed to add in that extreme sweet craving he needed. His mind was probably burning off the calories as he was eating them.

The guy slid the sack holding the cake off his arm and placed it on a table, offering his now-free hand to be shaken. "Daniel Masters. It's actually Masters Daniel here, though, right?"

He had a name now. He could just have Watari look it up when he returned. It would be easy to get all the information then and there, but…

For some reason, L had the weirdest feeling that Daniel wasn't being fully honest. If he wasn't, he was a very skillful liar. L hadn't seen a single tell. With Kira killing with a name and a face, it wouldn't be unreasonable for anyone, especially an American, to go around without an alias.

Perhaps he was working for the American government? Investigating the Kira case? It would explain his form and how he tensed, and how he was trained well enough to lie smoothly. The injuries and marks could've come from past missions and events, and the perfume from an associate.

L was very curious.

"Yes, Masters-san. Last names are said first to give that of family stating, and then first."

Daniel chuckled. When he realized L wasn't interested in shaking his hand and lowered it, placing it in the pocket of his jeans. "Don't bother with the formalities," he brushed off, adding in a small shrug. "It's weird. You can just call be Danny; everyone does."

Actually, scratch that idea of him working with the American government. L had been given a list of all the people who had been sent over (he currently had them trailing the Kira suspects) and Daniel Masters hadn't been on the list. Along with the fact that Masters wasn't carrying any lethal weapon, it was highly unlikely.

Though L wouldn't put it past the America to send in someone in undercover, Masters certainly didn't appear to be that kind. He was incredibly young, and while he seemed skilled, he wasn't close to the capability of the others.

And he insisted on being called Danny. Perhaps it was his real first name, with Masters as the alias. It was a clever way to lie, yet tell the truth. L mentally gave Masters a few points for that.

L took another bite of cake. "Why are you in Japan, Danny-san?"

"My sister's attending To-Oh University," he informed. "She's in her last year of college now, and she invited me to visit." His icy eyes widened before he, once again, laugher nervously.

Yes; he couldn't be an uncover officer. Much like Matsuda, Masters seemed to be open about his emotions.

"I came here to get the cake as a gift and a congratulations. I have to go now, so bye, Ryuga-san." The American picked up the bag again and began to head out of the bakery. L watched curiously, then ate another piece of cake.

So the perfume most likely came from his sibling, then. Older, also American by the looks of it. And she attended To-Oh. How nice; perhaps a bit of research would reveal Daniel's true name and allow him to discover where the scars had come from.

Everything about him added up besides the alias and scars. He obviously had something else to hide, and now, L was curious.

But Daniel Masters would have to wait; he had strawberry cake to eat.

AN: I got bored and this idea popped into my head. It's a one-shot, but I had to get it written down. Ignore any plot holes because I was just trying to get this thing down on paper.

Also, I'm posting this from my phone. Any errors are the result of that, though I'll edit it once I am on a computer.

Anyway, the general idea of this was the beginnings of a L/Danny story. Jazz ended up going to Japan for college, and when the Kira event started Danny's hero complex spiked and he decided he should try and investigate. Sorry if there's any OOC. Cool idea, though, right?

Anyway, laterz!

Remember: It's a one-shot. Unless…people beg for more. ;) *wink wink*

~Jet