It had been far to use to get into the pretty boy's apartment. The idiotic girlfriend, if you'd call her that had easily been kept out longer with a new modeling photo op. Mafia sponsored, of course. The first thing I did was cut the internet and phone lines, couldn't have any interruptions. Going over L's old records lead me here, to the apartment of the main Kira suspect; the brother of the girl I had kidnapped. The hand writing in the Death Note was an exact match to that of Yagami Light. Why L never thought of something so simple was beyond me. The only thing left to do was wait until Kira returned in the next quarter of an hour. I had just snapped into a bite of chocolate has I heard the key slide into the door. Ooh door slam, someone is still pissy over how I rattled their system.
"Misa," He started "I need silence. This is no time to be lazing around; I need you to start writing names, now! I also need you to give me pages," I had to smirk to myself as he violently pulled the chair from the desk and sat, all while giving himself away. Chocolate bar in hand I stood, instantly my other hand going to retrieve my gun. I thought Kira would be more perceptive than this. Before he knew there was anything to be concerned for and before I even knew what I was doing, my gun was to the back of his head.
"I'm not your girlfriend, Kira." I none too kindly informed him pressing the barrel to his skull. He tensed instantly. He flinched once I broke off another piece of chocolate. A short silence followed, just our breathing and the sound of the wall clock ticking. "I've already matched the hand writing in the death note to official documents with your handwriting. I've won, there is no use fighting me."
"I don't know who you are, but you are mistaken. I work for the police and you are in serious trouble." What a liar. I laughed.
"Yeah," I questioned "Then what was that about needing the nitwit to write names?" He knew he had given himself away. I had won, this was over. I smiled in triumph as I snapped another piece of chocolate into my mouth. I'll give the bastard credit; he knew how to handle a situation it turned out. As his chair turned clock wise and his leg swung out at mine, the gun went off. The bullet had imbedded itself in the computer screen. I stumbled back, regaining my balance before I would have crashed to the floor.
Though the moment of equilibrium was short lived as the bastard was standing and decided the best course of action was to tackle me at the waist. The sound of my chocolate bar breaking on the area rug and my gun hitting the hard wood floor before spinning off into the kitchen area, were louder to me than the sound of my own head colliding with the same wood. I heard the bastard's next words as my brain and thoughts both tried to settle in my skull.
"I don't like having guns pointed at me, Mello." He said with such smugness, if my gun had not been out of reach I would have shot the smirk I could hear off his face. Instead I took satisfaction in the feel of my knuckles splitting against his teeth as I took a blind punch at the sound of his voice. Whatever he had been about to say next was cut off as he bent back with the force. I twisted my upper body and slid the lower half from under him with ease, making for my gun, before I was pulled back by my hair with a cruel jerk. I pulled back, clawing the hand fisted in my roots, only to have his force suddenly change to match mine, causing my face to painfully become acquainted to the floor, much the same as the back of my head had done.
I felt the harsh pull at the base of my skull again as I was pulled from the floor. I felt my rosary dig into my stomach as his weight settled on my lower back. My neck craned as he whipped my head to the side, "Now I understand why you're number two. You were smart enough to get evidence no one else did, but not smart enough to go to Interpol instead of confronting me." I think after that I voiced my thought that he was a bastard, because there was another jerk to my hair before my wrists were pinned to the ground. Guess Kira doesn't like having his parents state of wedded bliss questioned. "Do you think N would have made this mistake?" He leaned down to whisper the question to me, like it was something intimate between us, so naturally I head-butted him. Though he did not loosen his hold and was only affected for a moment before he started to what can be best described as a crazy giggle.
Most people in this situation would have been worried. I wasn't, I knew his type wouldn't do anything to get his hands dirty, I also knew he did not know my name. This is why we had a glaring contest. We were at a standstill, he knew that the moment he let go to call anyone, or try anything, I'd do the same, but I'd have the upper hand. I laughed myself, who would have thought that Kira and I would end up in a stale mate on his floor.
