Summer, 2003. Four months till his 24th birthday.
Japan, The Conrad Hotel.
L sat in silence, aside from the buzzing coming from his computer. He stared blankly into his deathly sweet coffee. The great detective rose his index finger towards his mouth, slowly chewing the nail. He fidgeted with his feet, hands wrapped around his coffee. Each and every sip of his coffee seemed to be thought out, methodical even. The detective cleared his throat. This, for a moment distracted Watari from his morning papers. He half expected the detective to speak, but nothing, He remained silent. Watari knew nothing would break L's concentration. The boy sat in his over-sized chair. His hair was messy, he had bags under his eyes. with his nose inches away from the screen. Reading and rereading his new case. Wataris thought before returning to his paper.
I've known you most of your life. I've studied you, mentored you and yet i still can't understand you. We may not be blood, but you are like a son. I guess this 'Riddler' case is proving to be quite difficult. L's usually more vocal about his cases.
Deciding that L needed a cup cake break , Watari silently sneaked out. Not that it mattered, L was far too focused to notice. Preoccupied with his work he had lost track of time. Four hours had passed since Watari's departure.
Suddenly L's private cell phone rang "Brnnnng" "Brnnnnng."
his phone was on top the end table, on the other side of the room.
"Brnnng" "Brnnng"
L, annoyed by the ringing yelled.
"Watari, the phone." "Brnnng" "Brnnng"
"Watari!" No reply. he leapt from his chair, his knees were stiff. Stumbling towards the phone, he felt light headed from the sudden movements. Watari Usually answered the phone, usually. But Watari was nowhere in sight. L had to tough it out and answer the phone, he needed to answer the phone. This overwhelming urge came over him.
He saw he caller ID. "?" was all that it read.
"Hmm." Slowly and steadily, he carefully answered the phone. "Uhh." He cleared his throat in order to smoothen out his already gruff voice as a result from his past few nights he spent awake. "Hello?" He said in a clear and neutral voice.
Silence. "Who is this?" he said a bit more commanding. The silence remained. he felt sick, like he had been punched in the stomach. Nothing but low and subtle breaths, almost impossible to hear. Then there was a click, whoever it was, had hung up.
He looked away from the phone. "Watari, where are you?" L spun around, looking for Watari, expecting him to answer. "Watari!"
Who was that? What did he want? Where's Watari? Was it Watari? No, I know his number. He would have said something.
L's stomach was twisting and turning. He suddenly formed the most horrifying thought he could think of. A thought that would make the next week of his life, living hell.
How did he get my NUMBER!