The young brunette picked a chocolate-covered strawberry and licked the chocolate off. "Did I hear you right?" She said into the phone calmly, "I have to do, what, exactly?"

The head of the FBI replied back. "Strawberry-san, the ICPO requires your help to solve this case; L himself told us he required your help." The man sighed. "This is a very urgent case of serial killings, by, what we suspect, is the work of"–

"I've heard of these incidents," Strawberry snapped back, but then regained her calm again, "and yeah, I know it's a serious case – but I have other things to do." She smiled at the photo in her hand warmly – her brother. "My brother is seeing me next week."

The old man sighed. "Strawberry-san, your brother could visit any day, but do these people's lives return any day?"

Tch.

The old man had touched a nerve; Strawberry hadn't seen her brother ever since they got separated ten years ago, since that awful orphanage, "Be quiet, oyaji," she hissed, "and don't talk about things you don't understand."

"Well perhaps L might understand you more than me," he retorted, "so you should go."

Strawberry rolled her eyes and harrumphed. "Yeah, cooped up in an apartment with who-knows-what is the perfect way to get new friends."

"You'll have L to accompany you, won't you?"

"For all I know, he could be a 50-year-old geezer, like you." She deliberately insulted the man.

"For all he knows, you could be a 50-year-old hag." The man remarked waspishly.

Ouch.

"Either way, I expect to see you at the airport Saturday evening, or else we're going to have to drag you to Japan and force you to solve the case.

"Goodbye, Strawberry-san," And he hung up.

Strawberry found herself gripping on the edge of the photo in her hand, as she slammed the receiver down. Oh, how disappointed her brother would be, to come all the way to Europe, to find that she'd gone straight back to Japan.

Damn you, Kira.

~A week later: Sunday morning~

"Thank you," she smiled stiffly at the horrible taxi driver before getting out.

After paying crabby driver sixty-three thousand yen, Strawberry got her suitcases out of the car and looked at the note in her hand.

I sincerely hope this humongous hotel has an elevator.

~L's Apartment~

Strawberry stood in front of the perfectly polished, white, wooden door and set her suitcases down to give her arms a rest.

Well, this is it. I find out who the infamous L is and he finds out who I am. I suppose this could be fun…

He's probably a pampered, well-brought up man, unlike me. She thought, taking a look at her outfit (a dark denim jacket over a white shirt, and jeans).

Lifting a hand, she knocked softly on the polished wood.

At once, a voice talked back. "Come in," A surprisingly young man's voice replied.

Strawberry cocked an eyebrow before lifting her suitcases. Ooookay, so this L isn't an old geezer?

She opened the door, pushed herself through – her hands were full with the suitcases –, walked in…

…and widened her eyes.

"Pampered, well-brought up man", my ass.

L stood in front of her with a totally expression-less face, empty looking eyes with dark rings underneath, a creamy-white sweater and jeans over skin SO pale, it was almost white.

She almost snorted, but caught herself in time. She smirked.

"Well, hello."