Hi! Here is my first Death Note story, Hidden!
Title: Hidden.
Rating: M.
Summary: It was cold, and oh so dark. There was nothing in the world surrounding him, nothing at all. There seemed to be nothing in his mind, either. Nothing but that strange nagging sensation. He was hungry...so, so hungry. They would not hold him back, and he will get what he desires so wantonly...no matter the cost.
Warnings: AU. Don't like, don't read. Slight character changes.
Notes: I have just started watching Death Note, so some people may be out of character, and I apologize for that. Also, I may make L creepier than he already is. (I think I did.) This is an alternate universe, and I am halfway through the episode "Assault." This story is set a bit before that episode and will play out as I see fit.
Enjoy!
It was a dark and cool night. The moon was full, spreading blanched and thin white rays over everything, be it living or inanimate. A chilled wind blew, moaning through the land as it whisked the contents of the world beneath it to create a poor imitation of a purée. Shadows darted around each other, pretending to be obstreperous little children merely waiting to have the chance to play.
Matsuda raised his coat collar, shivering slightly. It was a colder night than usual, and the emptiness of the streets and sidewalks made it all the stranger. Beside him, Aizawa walked hunched in his coat to drive off the restless wind, a scowl on his face.
"Of course, the guy wants us there -immediately, might I add- on one of the coldest nights in history!" the serious man grumbled, narrowing his eyes as the wind changed direction and bit on his face.
"I am sure he has something that will be of good use to us." Soichiro Yagami spoke over his shoulder, seemingly unperturbed by the cold. "Ryuzaki has never failed or disappointed us before."
Ukita shifted next to the Chief, stuffing his hands deep into his pockets. "Chief is right. We shouldn't be stressing over the cold when Ryuzaki might have something for the case that will benefit us greatly." Mogi nodded in agreement next to him.
They all came to a stop near the hotel, entering and heading straight to the elevator, up to the detective's suite. It was significantly warmer inside the massive building, and it instantly melted away the chill that was currently gnawing at their bones. When the elevator finally stopped, Watari stood there waiting, his hands linked behind his back.
"Right this way, please. Ryuzaki is waiting for you."
He sat in a crouch on the floor, rocking back and forth. His breaths were short and sharp, sending clouds of heated air into the chilled atmosphere around him.
Keep it together. You cannot let the others know.
Long and slim fingers clenched tightly on the fabric of his jeans, and nails tore at the material, leaving thin gouges. Dark and bottomless obsidian eyes flicked over to the window, where a curtain was futilely attempting to block out the moonlight streaming in.
Such a beautiful thing, the wonderful moonlight. Mystical and powerful and awe-inspiring...taking away power only to restore...the wonderful power to drain others...
Stop! This is not you! Do not let this overpower you!
A scowl marred the pale face, and thin lips pressed together as the rocking increased to a near frantic pace. Hold, hold, hold. Breathe...relax.
He inhaled deeply with the intent of letting it out when a sweet smell overpowered him. Dark eyes flashed and became darker, absorbing the soft rays of the moon, as he froze, inconsequential breaths halted. Oh, my...what was that? Oh so sweet, oh so delicious.
My prey...
Yes...
"Ryuzaki?" A voice tore him from his dark and shattered musings. Irritation boiled within a cold heart as he shook his head, a deep and chilling laugh erupting from his chest to reverberate throughout the room.
Ignore it, ignore it. Pay no attention. Focus, focus, focus. Focus on the prey...
"Ryuzaki."
No! No interruptions! Fix your attention on the weak, focus on the...
The growing hunger snapped and grudgingly released its ruthless and bone-chilling hold. The world came crashing back, almost at an overwhelming level as he whirled around, madness clear in the dark depths of his otherwise emotionless stare as he bared his teeth in a feral snarl. They had interrupted him...who would ever dare?
Watari stood there, face carefully composed to reveal nothing.
The detective caught himself, pressing his lips together and turning back to the window. "What is it?"
His handler turned to the side, revealing the Japanese Task Force. "Your guests have arrived."
Soichiro and his team followed the elderly handler, keeping quiet. They never really talked whenever the man led them to their informant, one who happened to be the head of the Kira investigation, for they found no actual beneficial reason to.
They followed as the tall elder stopped at a door and pulled out a set of keys, rifling through them until he found the correct. Opening the door and stepping inside, he turned and motioned for them to enter.
"Please leave your shoes and coats by the door," the white-haired man intoned, nodding to their designated places. He waited for them to finish and then led them a darkened hall.
"Um, Watari?" Matsuda questioned hesitantly though it was clear he was curious and confused. "Aren't the meetings in the family room?"
The handler shook his head politely. "Ryuzaki has requested of me to move the location of the meeting to another room. I believe he is working on something secretive in the former meeting room."
Soichiro hesitated as they passed the room. Was that blood seeping out from under the door?
"Chief?"
The eldest Yagami turned back. His team and Watari were staring at him.
"Are you okay?" Ukita asked, tilting his head.
"Yes. I'm fine." He shook off the feeling that he was being watched and turned away from the suspicious room, making the mental note to check the room later.
... ... ...
Watari finally unlocked another door and ushered them in, entering and locking it once more once they were all in.
The room was dark and cold, colder than the outside. The ice dug into their skin mercilessly, past the bone and seemingly all the way to their cores. They shivered, but Watari seemed unaffected by the strange temperature of the room.
A lone figure sat in a crouch on the floor, in the direct path of the window. The mammoth moon loomed overheard, spreading its thin and spindly fingers of light to pierce the soft curtain and wash over the crouched figure. Thick and spiked, unruly hair stuck out at strange angles, the dark locks bleached in the pallid light that soaked them. The slim male was rocking back and forth, short and ragged breaths audible as his back remained to his visitors. His long fingers twitched and his head jerked, and the young man glanced over his shoulder. The emotionless eyes were darker than ever, and their emptiness made all of them, excluding Watari, hesitate.
"Ryuzaki?" Matsuda took a hesitant step towards the detective. He had not ever seen him like this, none of them had. It was a bit disturbing. There was absolutely nothing in those endless eyes. It was as if there was no soul inside.
Ryuzaki continued to hold his unnervingly steady stare for a moment before turning his back to them again.
The police officer was stopped as Watari held out a hand and shook his head.
There was a deep, echoing laugh, one that sent chills down their spines. Soichiro glanced at the detective, whose rocking had picked up the pace. Had it come from him?
Ryuzaki caught their attention when he shifted, shaking his head as he murmured words beneath his breath. He still seemed to not notice his company.
Watari moved forward, towards the unresponsive detective. Leaning close to the other, he uttered one word.
"Ryuzaki."
In a flash, the dark-haired young man whirled around, rising to his feet in one graceful and deadly movement. His eyes were wide and filled with pure and unadulterated menace and fury, and his teeth were bared in a scowl that seemed to give him a dangerous and feral aura.
Was it just their imaginations, or did the detective's teeth seem sharper than normal?
Watari, however, did not show any outward sign of discomfort. He stood in his normal professional and polite manner, his face devoid of all emotion.
Ryuzaki let out a deep breath, tilting his head to give the impression that he was looking at his handler. "What is it?"
The elderly man motioned with a sweep of his hand the confused men behind him. "Your guests have arrived."
The task force was currently sitting in the detective's suite, coats, jackets, and shoes disposed of and personal technologies taken by their leader.
L was sitting in his typical crouch; his long fingers were draped over his knees and his large and pitch black eyes staring off blankly into space.
It was silent, and they had all come to believe that the man had forgotten they were there.
"Um…Ryuzaki?" Touta Matsuda spoke up, warm chocolate eyes holding concern.
There seemed to be a flicker in those bottomless pits, but that was all.
Cold roared throughout the room, making them all shiver. The thin and elongated fingers of darkness stroked in a mocking fashion, almost lackadaisical as if it were merely pretending to be loving and kind until it reared back and sliced through their flesh with a merciless and sadistic laugh.
"Ryuzaki?" Watari spoke from the shadows behind the other, hands crossed behind his back in a professional position. If anything, the man did not look the slightest bit concerned for his charge. He seemed to be waiting for something, but what was it?
"Hmm?" The dark-haired man shifted, bare feet rubbing against one another as his thick and unruly spiked hair fell into his face. He made no attempt to move it.
"The meeting," Watari intoned gently, placing a cup of coffee in front of the insomniac, along with a bowl of sugar cubes.
"Yes." L leaned forward, snatching up a few of the cubes and sticking them into his mouth one at a time. "I know there is a meeting. With the Japanese Task Force, am I correct?"
"That is correct." Soichiro nodded, smoothing out a wrinkle in his collared shirt.
"If there is a meeting, then why is it so quiet?" Ryuzaki murmured, barely audible, his hair now completely obscuring his eyes as he turned his head to give the impression that he was looking at the Chief. "One would expect a meeting to have some sort of noise."
"You normally start," Soichiro informed the slim young man.
The detective looked up at that, his fingers now deep in the sugar bowl as his eyes were momentarily revealed, absorbing light and seeming even darker than normal. "I do." He tilted his head to the side, pressing his lips together. "Yet it has come to my attention that each of you has some sort of new information of the Kira case?"
They all looked at each other. "No. Nothing new from what you have given us."
L did not seem to hear them; his head was turned towards the window, cocked as if he were listening for something. His hands visibly tightened on the fabric of his jeans and his sharp nails tore jagged lines in the over-sized material.
"Ryuzaki?" Touta questioned hesitantly.
The detective's body lurched, and in a sudden movement he was on his feet, his cold and piercing gaze slicing through his thick black mane and searching the room. The sugar cube bowl was thrown haphazardly, and its contents spilled on the carpet, rolling and stopping in front of each man. They all stared in surprise from their seats on the floor.
"Detective, what are you doing?" Chief Yagami demanded brow creasing.
"Quiet," Ryuzaki spoke one word, his voice deeper than normal as it echoed throughout the room. He prowled the area, head turning this way and that, fingers twitching as if eager to get into something.
Schuichi faced the butler, the slightest hint of a frown gracing his mouth. "Watari, what—?" He was hushed by the man, who was watching intently.
The detective turned sharply and looked at each of the men before him, his emotionless stare piercing all of their hearts. Moving in a flash, Ryuzaki was suddenly nose-to-nose with Aizawa, who now looked terrified and was leaning away from the strange man.
"What do you think you are doing?" he demanded, desperate to get away.
L said nothing, leaning closer and inhaling deeply, his eyes closing halfway. The others watched, morbidly intrigued. Aizawa seemed to grow more and more uncomfortable, his eyes widening. Without warning or any sign that he was going to move, the detective had the other pinned down to the ground.
"Ryuzaki!" Ukita made to defend his teammate, but the detective turned his head and gave him a heart-stopping glare, immediately ceasing all attempts to stop him.
"Get off of me!" Aizawa shouted, trying to dislodge the slimmer man's grasp. Cold and long fingers dug mercilessly into his skin, the nails tipping them shredding into the soft flesh ever so slightly.
"Enough." L's voice was low and held a thinly veiled warning as his hands moved and rifled through the man's clothes, his ruthlessly strong grip preventing any deterring movement. Eyes narrowing as his hands stilled, Ryuzaki stood silently, something held in his fingers.
"What is the meaning of this?" Soichiro demanded sharply. Based on what he had seen, nothing had provoked Ryuzaki into attacking the other, so it had not been necessary for the detective to attack the officer.
The detective fixed his cold, lifeless eyes on the police chief. Suddenly nose-to-nose with him, L held out his hand. "There was a bug." His voice was dead and bone-chilling as his eyes bored into the man.
"A bug?" The chief's eyes widened as he turned to the flustered man. "Aizawa, explain yourself! How could you let this happen?"
"It wasn't my fault! How was I to know?" The man raised his hands as if in surrender.
A quiet and deep voice interjected. "It most likely was not his fault. A thirty-four percent chance, anyway." It was Ryuzaki, who was now seated on the windowsill in his signature crouch. The pallid light blanketing him bleached his skin and hair a strange shade of white and gray though his eyes continued to stay as dark as they currently were.
"What do you mean?" Matsuda spoke after overcoming his initial shock.
"An affair or an altercation are the more reasonable causes." The detective's voice remained devoid of any type of emotion as he stared off into space. "Aizawa, did anyone touch you over the past four hours?"
The police officer scowled. "Has anyone...of course, someone's touched me in that time period! Shaking hands and the like."
Ryuzaki did not respond, his gaze fixed on the espionage device in his hand. They all noticed the dark eyes narrow, and his glare darkened severely.
"Detective?" Yagami questioned.
There was a brief flicker in the man's eyes, and he looked up at them. "Forgive me, but I have just realized that I have somewhere to be."
"Somewhere to be?" Ukita crossed his arms. "So you called us here for nothing?"
L froze, back to them as he stopped putting on his coat. "I will return shortly. Watari, keep our guests..." He glanced over his shoulder, gaze locking with the chief's. "...entertained."
With that, the young man was gone.
It was coldly bright. One might ask why and how something could be cold and bright, but it was not really that difficult to think about. They could imagine a snowy day in the States, or the living room with lights at full capacity but no heat circulating throughout the room.
Or, they could think about him.
He was not a man known for his...pleasant moods. His eyes pierced anything that they came into contact with, freezing said object with guarded terror and suspicion.
Cold and bright.
He was intelligent, that he would not deny. Oh so intelligent in a world full of mindless fools. Perhaps if they took the time to actually use the things they had dared call brains, they would find something useful to do with their pointless lives.
The cloaked man smirked, slowing his steps as he came to a stop near a dark alleyway, turning and entering. The cobblestone path was shrouded in shadows and dampness, protected by the disintegrating brick and stone building with it.
"You have been following me." The man spoke, a smooth and suave tenor rumbling from his throat.
There was no reply at first. The man felt a cold wind breathe past him, and then long and clawed fingers were digging into his fabric-covered arm. "You were in my territory."
The man laughed deeply. "Oh, come now. You and I both know that there is more to this than first meets the eye."
The fingers tightened their grasp, shredding through the skin, and then a pale and weary face was in his line of view. "You cannot have them."
A scowl marred the handsome face. "And what would ever make me listen to you?"
A snarl tore through the air, dangerous and feral enough to make the first man hesitate.
"This."
The man's visitor moved suddenly, and then he was slammed into the sharp and scraggly brick wall behind him, enough to make his vision white out for the briefest of moments. Sweet and cold breath washed over him as the pale man loomed over him. Dark and piercing eyes bored into the man's core, sending involuntary chills down his spine.
Moving in a flash, the slim and pale man leaned forward, and razor points grazed the man's neck before plunging in deep. A scream tore from the prey's throat, but it was quickly muffled as the other man's foot slammed down on his leg, snapping the bones and making the appendage useless. Fire tore through the veins of the prey, spreading ruthlessly to further paralyze the man.
A deep laugh sounded, terrifying and heart-wrenching, as the attacker came back into view. Pale, white skin glowed a ghostly white, and dark, dark eyes held manic hunger and insanity.
"You will regret challenging me."
The man could only attempt to scream in pain as the fangs tore through the flesh of his neck, blood flowed, and the world became dark.
He pulled away, gasping heavily. Dark eyes blazed with a hungry light as he took in the scene before him. His challenger lay dying in a pool of his own blood, gasping futilely as he choked on his own body's fluids.
The pale man threw his head back and laughed, a sound full of sadistic insanity and want. He leaned down, dark rimmed eyes blazing crimson for the briefest of moments. He reached into his pocket and threw a small object at the steaming corpse as he whispered softly, nearly inaudible.
They are mine. You stay out of my territory. You are a warning. Should anyone else challenge me, they will face a death more excruciating than yours.
They are my prey.
With that, the man stood and hunched over, assuming his well-known position and leaving the body behind.
His tongue dragged over his razor teeth, and he savored the taste of the blood.
There's that! Again, this is an AU, so people will be different. Read and review, pleaze! :)