N/A: Greetings, fanfiction-mites! Chapter 2! Oh, I'm so thrilled with the follows, really. Thanks so much to all of you who had favorite/followed/reviewed. Please keeping expressing your opinions, they really matter! This chapter is actually divided in two parts, since it would be too long if I used a whole one. This is the first part; Chapter 3 will be the second part, so you'll be continuing with Light's POV, right after the end of this one. Thank you, shewhowasnamedanyway for the suggestion!
Disclaimer: Slash, L x Light, side pairings lot of OOC-ness (from every character in the chapter, you've been warned), bad jokes, Game of Thrones (though I didn't even see the show myself, yet),fluffy, musical, classical music (I love the song mentioned in the story ,but I really think it doesn't fit a funeral). I don't own Death Note, but I would like if Scott Synder owned a little bit of it: the guy just know how to get a good nemesis-love on the run
Story edited by: The wonderful shewhowasnamedanyway.
Hate, like, love – tear me apart!
~ Have fun!
J.J
xxx
Ev'ry little trait, however small
Makes my very flesh begin to crawl
xxx
"Don't you think she looks terrible? I mean, really terrible?"
I turn to Mello and give him and odd look.
"Mello, she has just lost her husband. Of course, she looks terrible."
We've just attended the funeral of our former client, Kuro Sunohara. After a tedious but supposedly, heartbreaking ceremony, we are now gathered at the Sunohara's Manor to pay our respects to the widow.
The aforesaid woman is in a rampage of tears; her face a mess of disheveled hair, smeared black mascara and red lipstick. She's been sobbing uncontrollably since the funeral and I think her whimpers can be heard in a ten mile ratio.
"I know. But that's it. It's just a husband. It's not her son, daughter, dog or anything" On my right side, I feel Mello rolling eyes in annoyance. "I don't think she even liked him very much. Isn't he the one who smelled like rotten onions or something?
"I don't know. Kiyomi was the one who dealt with Sunohara. I've only talked to him a few times over the phone."
"I bet he was. I remember her spraying some lavender scent every time the guy walked out of her office. Ask her; she'll know what I'm talking about. Anyway, his death is not such a big deal. Husbands, wives; they are just replaceable. She'll get another one."
"Husband or wife? I actually doubt that she'll get any of them." I hear Near flatly states on my left, holding a glass of wine "She does look terrible and not just out of mourning."
I turn my gaze to Reiko Sunohara. Besides the ruined hair and makeup, she wears a horrible silk black dress that clings to her obese figure in an ugly and deformed way. It's obscenely short too; it stops at the middle of her tights, the length not even approaching her bare knees. I can see too much of her pale, old, and flaccid skin. The sight is truly hideous.
"And the dress doesn't praise her. Not at all. What was she thinking? I mean, look at her; she looks like Shamu in a Halloween costume. It is actually a cape, there?" Mello squints his eyes at Reiko, noticing that there was, indeed, a matching black silk cape that hung by her shoulders, covering her bare arms. "What. The. Hell. Why does she think she will need a cape? Will she stand up and fly at any minute?"
"You said it, she is Shamu dressed in a Halloween costume. Maybe she can't do the jump tricks by her own means and needs a cape. After all, gravity doesn't seem to be on her side." Near nodded.
"Does she even think this could be classified as pretty? Fashion? Oh god. I bet that guy cheated her as many times as possible; she actually deserves it. Disturbing little obese bitch – Hey, tell me, where did you get that drink, Near? I'm honestly in need of some"
Near sips his wine and wrinkles his nose in disgust.
"Don't bother searching for it. Cheap and awful,"
"Oh great. What an outstanding event you brought us to, Yagami. Shamu and cheap blood-colored piss undercover as wine. I feel like I'm in Disneyland."
"Don't forget the bad musical taste. They were playing Mozart's Requiem at the burial."
"Yes. How people still have the nerve to put this song in a funeral?"
"Extremely inappropriate,"
They both nod their head in agreement. I feel my nerves twitching.
"You know, I truly find it so endearing the notion that, the only time you two can actually stop fighting is when you team up against me. Lovely really," I glare at them, "and if I may enlighten those dirty little mind of yours, we are here to maintain the image of union and integrity of our office. We vow a duty to our clients that passes beyond the cases we're assigned with. Even when our services are not needed anymore, this bond shall last. We need to show our faithfulness, compassion and eternal loyalty for whatever cause may come their way". I'm actually reciting here one of the many lines I used on Kiyomi when we were in college and I needed to impress Miss To-Oh. If I wanted to get under her grandfather's good sight, the former and great District Attorney, Yuruzuyu Takada, I needed some pretty rhetoric on my sleeves
"Otherwise, I wouldn't, in a million years, bring any of you. For Christ Sake, I wouldn't have come either." I continue. I suddenly remember the show Ryuk put on at the wedding two months ago. I internally flinch in disgust at the memory, wondering if my present companions would create a similar disaster.
The headaches are starting. I bring my hand to my temples, trying to sooth the pain.
It's no good.
"Oh god," I sigh, closing my eyes "I feel like I'm getting too old for this. Do you think anyone heard the quantity of bullshit you two chattered and prattled on the last few minutes? I really don't have luck with companions: you only cause me grief and shame."
"You actually know how to grieve, Yagami? I'm touched. Who would have known?" Mello brings his hand to his mouth in mocking gesture of shock. I can see by his face that he is repressing a laugh.
"That was an inspiring speech, Yagami-kun. I'm really moved. Do you want me to light you a candle or something? You know bring some light to your face?" Near deadpans.
This time, the ridiculous joke gets to Mello and he bursts out in a huge laugh. Everyone in the room (except the widow who is still drowning in her mourning) turns to look at us and I don't know where to hide my face.
I'm not here. I'm Casper and I'm a friendly ghost. I don't know them. You can't see me, I'm a lovely bag of pure ectoplasm. I don't know them and I don't take drugs. They are not with me. I don't know them. I don't.
When the laughter stops, Mello shoots the curious spectators a murderous glare, his face deadly serious. They quickly turn their backs and return to mind their own business.
The headaches increases. I'm definitely not here.
Mello turns to Near, his face expressionless.
"God, Nate, stop it. I hate you and you are not funny. Please go away to someplace and die."
"You're welcome, Mihael. I'm always willing to brighten your day."
"I loathe you both." I hiss, and I'm mentally picturing myself dancing and howling above their very dead corpses when I catch a glimpse of the current time on my wrist watch.
Oh. Shit.
"We better hurry. If we don't leave soon, we're going to be late to the theater."
"And we're late. I'm telling you Yagami, this only keeps getting better-"
"Cut it, Mello. Where is Matt? I'm sure he was here not too long ago. We have to find him."
Near turns to our blond companion.
"Where is Matt, Mello?"
Mello tediously stares back at him.
"How should I know? He must be smoking somewhere, for all I care."
"Oh, I do think you should know."
"Why would you possibly-"
Suddenly a woman dressed in an elegant black, tailored suit storms into the room, walking straight to us. The guests don't even dare to look in our direction, the image of Mello's glare still too fresh in their minds to actually make them think twice before risking it all.
Halle looks like a furious war goddess in Prada high hills when she approaches us.
"What the hell are you three still doing here? Amane won't stop calling me. We are late." She growls, her voice low and threatening.
I feel again the urge to crawl under a rock and start all over the never ending mantra about how I don't know any of them. Instead I answer Halle with a surprisingly calm voice.
I'm trying my best to control the sharp pain in my brain.
"We don't know where Matt is."
Halle stares at me for a few seconds.
Then she turns to Mello.
"Where is Mail, Mihael?"
Mello makes such an outrageous expression that it would be actually humorous if I wasn't controlling myself from murdering him.
"Again, how the fuck should I know? What's up with you people? I'm not his babysitter, it's not my fault that-"
"No, Mihael. It is your fault. It's always your fault." By the way Halle speaks and glares at Mello, I think I can grant her the pleasure of executing him in my place.
"What the hell? Go get lost, Bullook. I thought we were at a 'blame it all on Light Yagami' day; I refuse to become the guilty one here. Near, control your psycho girlfriend."
Near sighs so deeply that I wonder if he actually felt pain in the process.
"What do you expect me to do, Mihael? Halle, how do you want me to control you? Can I slap you? Bite you? Can I blindfold you and tape you to a chair? Do you want me to use a whip? Handcuffs? Can I put on some kinky sex music while we do it on the carpet? I know you appreciate Beyoncé. Come on, put on some silk & lace in black and red, I'm going to ride you 'til I break you."
An abnormal silence follows and we all stare at Near. He casually sips his shitty wine, his face unaffected.
…Alright, that was disturbing.
"What are you talking about? Nate!" Halle actually shrieks, her voice rising a few inches. Her face is deeply flushed, a mixture of horrendous shock and endless shame.
Mello is just in shock, his mouth agape.
"What the f- wait, why didn't you deny it? You two are actually together? Oh god, that's gross, Near,"
"What do you want me to say? You don't want me to date her? I find Halle an attractive young woman, and the idea of seeing her in black silk and lace is extremely appealing me."
"Nate, stop it-"
"I knew you were a disgusting little pervert, Near. I knew it, I knew it. I was just waiting for you to drop the facade and reveal your true twisted, bastard face. I know Halle's a bitch, but to actually fall down on your level-"
"Mihael, I'm still here if you didn't noti-"
"Dating Halle really disgusts you that much? Are you jealous? Would you prefer if I dated somebody else? Do you want to date me?"
"Not even in hell! Don't say such obscene things wearing this ridiculous poker face of yours. Oh, I so want to break every damn inch of it-"
"Mihael, calm down-"
"Really? Because I think you must like me on some degree. Weren't you laughing at my joke a few minutes ago? Matt won't be very pleased to hear you've been flirting around-"
" Fuck, Near just stop! Do you have the nerve to call that thing a joke? I laughed out of your own misery. Shut your goddamn mouth you mutant. Shut up shut up shut up -"
"Mello, I wonder, how can you be so childish -"
"Enough both of you," I bark, finally losing grip. I feel my face hardens as the piercing pain gets the best of me and strikes right through my head, exploding. I'm seeing red and everything burns.
The familiar voice in my mind starts to whisper and oh, it's fire, flames, storms, thunder; fury.
I must look awful, because they indeed stop, both looking taken aback by my reaction, the sudden burst unlikely and odd. Dangerous.
Halle is disconcerted too, her eyes avoiding anything but the ground and I don't know if it's because of me or because of the previous nasty exchange between the two devils.
I take a deep, cool breath. I close my eyes and count to 3.
1, 2, 3
Calm down Light, calm down.
I snap them open again.
Better. Better.
"Ok. Good. Listen, I'm going to look out for Matt. You three stay here and show Reiko-san our condolences as quick as possible. I want to be out of here in less than twenty minutes and arrive at the theater in time for the haunted mansion scene."
The three of them stare at me silently for a while, all hesitant of what to do or say. Then, Mello breaks the tension, inquiring.
"Haunted mansion? Which musical are we seeing?"
"Rocky Horror Show," I answer him. I feel myself cooling down, my vision coming back to normal. The pain in my head is completely gone.
The voice in my mind a million miles away.
"Oh, right," Mello says. Then he furrows his eyebrows, confused. "Wait, what day is today? Oh my god, it's really Halloween? We are really attending a funeral whose soundtrack is Mozart's Requiem and there is Shamu in an immoral dress on fucking Halloween? Dude, that's macabre,"
"That explains a lot." Near utters, thoughtful, "Now, I wouldn't worry missing the first scenes of the musical, Light. We already have our overweight Dr. Frank N. Furter here, I'm just expecting she will start singing Sweet Transvestite and- Oh, Sunohara-san! We're so sorry for your loss."
I turn around and Reiko Sunohara suddenly has approached us, her miserable figure looking even worse up close. She seems to be at ease, unsure of what to say in response to Near's condolences. At least, she tries to smile, a hundred tiny little freckles appearing at the corners of her mouth when she does it, giving away the years she desperately tries to cover with the makeup and the dress.
Oh yes, and the cape.
"Uh, thank you. Please, forgive me, I think I should know you but I'm only familiar with Takada-san and Yagami-San-"
"Reiko-san," I take her hands in mine, putting the best sorry face I could muster, and her palms cold and sweaty against my fingers. "You're husband was a great man. I didn't have the pleasure to interact with him as much as I wanted to but I deeply admired him. Please, Reiko-san be strong and honor his image."
She gasps and I know she is on the verge of tears again, her voice croaking as she tries to conjure her thankfulness and how Sunohara-san so admired and respected me too-
-And this little show would be rather touching if she hadn't justmoved so inappropriately close to me, her enormous chest touching the front of my suit.
I cough, putting my hands on her shoulders and gently pushing her away. Widows. Even in grief, they remain horny as ever.
Thankfully, she doesn't seem to be bothered by my repealing gesture, her attention now falling upon my companions, her gaze timidly shifting between them.
"Do you all work with Yagami-san?"
I raise an eyebrow to them, hoping that they would see the perfect opportunity arising.
Near gets it first.
"That's correct, Sunohara-san. Please, I do hope you can forgive us. We should have introduced ourselves back at the funeral, but we were unsure how to do it without being a nuisance in such a delicate moment. Now I think it's the perfect time to make our acquaintances: I'm Nate River and the gentleman by my side is Mihael Keehl. We both work as lawyers at Yagami and Takada. This lady is Halle Bullook one of our office's private investigators. I hope you don't mind our presence here. When we found out what happened, we insisted to come with Yagami-sama-"
"We believe we have a duty towards our clients that pass beyond the cases we are assigned with. We want to show our eternal promise to the ones who truly and faithfully trusted us, relying on our services when the times were just too difficult to be handled alone." Mello heartily states, blatantly quoting what I said, while adding some sentimental crap he came up within the last minute.
Reiko stares at them like they were angels from heaven above. Halle lays her hand on the widow's shoulder, the motion looking both elegant and endearing. She locks her blue, cat-like eyes on Reiko's.
"Our feelings are with you,"
-And I can tell the woman is long gone. She's completely under their spell. The bastards know how to be charming when it's needed.
I wonder if they learned that from me.
Reiko leans her head on Halle's hand, the sobs starting again. Halle embraces her, comforting, patting her back while Mello and Near hang around, whispering soothing words to the widow.
I don't miss the chance. I subtly sneak out of the room, unnoticed by the crying Reiko and head on my way in search of Matt.
The mansion is hugely crowded. I don't think I've seen so many people gathered together in a funeral before. I make way through the corridors, doing my best at dodging the guests. Some men dressed as waiters doing the same thing, the silver platters dangling precociously from their hands, champagne and rich, colorfully orchestrated appetizers upon the trays.
Rich people. Even in grief they have to show off their wealth. I wonder if the family finds the hiring of an expensive buffet for the burial as a sort of token to Kuro Sunohara, even if the poor bastard won't have a chance to appreciate the banquet.
A waiter passes close to me and I get a better look of the appetizers. The smoked salmon and caviar canapés strikes a chord in my mind. The way they are delicately arranged, the thin layers of salmon gracefully folding the tiny amounts of caviar placed on the middle of the tostones, a simple and yet calculated pattern, seems oddly familiar to me.
As I muse where I have seen the appetizers before, I walk past a room where I catch sight of Kiyomi and Mikami, both talking to a middle-aged man dressed in an old-fashioned suit.
Normally, Kiyomi and I tend to attend the events together that concern our clients, keeping the image of the perfect associates, true comrades whose partnership goes beyond business. But lately, we haven't been faithful to this ideal, with Kiyomi increasingly choosing to exchange my company for our mutual friend's one, the District Attorney Teru Mikami.
I stop and gaze at them for a few moments. They are standing side by side, so close that their shoulders are almost touching. Mikami impeccable, in a dark gray suit. Talking softly to the gentleman before him, one hand resting in his pocket while the other hangs freely by his other side, though not an inch apart of Kiyomi's own hand.
She looks exquisite in her marine dress, the classic design fawning her beautiful figure. She is smiling, her lips curving charmingly upwards, the lipstick that covers them contrasting perfectly with her complexion. She holds a glass of wine in her right hand, the one which is not close to Mikami's.
They don't want to show it, but I can see, even from a distance, their fingers touching, caressing subtly and quietly. Discretely, their fingers interlock.
They look good together; a pretty young couple. They fit, like two pieces on a puzzle. Something shines on Kiyomi's finger and I'm sure it's a ring.
I grin. They look great. Two pieces perfectly connected. Two pieces on my puzzle.
My plan is unfolding sweetly and perfectly, just as I expected it to.
Then, something sharp suddenly hits me on the head, interrupting my trail of thoughts. I turn around, diverting my gaze from Kiyomi and Mikami, searching for whatever abruptly struck me.
"Oh, pardon me," says a voice whose owner seems to be already distancing from me.
At first, the only thing I see is someone carrying a silver tray. The pain from the hit makes my vision blurry and, in my confusion, I involuntary reach out for my aggressor's back, grabbing his/her shoulder. The person stops with the motion, turning around to face me. When my vision comes back to normal, I can finally make out who it is.
Oh. Oh.
I should have known better when I saw the appetizers. Now, I recall exactly when I came upon them.
I know him.
He is someone hard to forget.
"L?"
He looks unaffected by the mention of his name, a blank look in his eyes as they dart up and down and I don't know if he's trying to recognize or analyze me, like he is a scientist with an interesting subject at hand.
There is something rather odd with his eyes, and when they lock with mine, I know just what it is.
He is not L. The resemblance is extraordinarily, but I would never forget the two black abysses the man had for eyes. Even after two months from our last encounter, they are still bored in my mind.
This one here has a pair of deep scarlet-toned brown orbs. They are impressive but, even so, they don't defy me. They don't challenge me like those ominous black pit pools did.
Suddenly, the man's eyes glisten with glee and he smiles at me.
Well, the smile is pretty much the same creepy thing that was L's.
"Mr. 'Someone L met'! What a surprise and a pleasure! You're even more handsome at close capture."
I give him a confused look. 'Mr. Someone L met'?
"Do I know you?-"
"No, but I know you and that's what matters. Really, what a small world. Tell me did you know the corpse?"
He seems an off balanced kind of person, staring at me in a manic way that looks even crazier than I thought L looked. I decide to go along with him, for the sake of not stepping on the wrong crack and he …Well, I honestly don't know. Goes berserk on me? Stab me in the back? I can picture him easily attacking me with a knife, Psychosis soundtrack playing in the background.
"Not so well, he was one of my partner's clien-"
"You know what I think? It doesn't matter if you know someone or not. It doesn't matter if you know what it likes, what it dislikes, if it eats Thai food or has a brother with a second thumb in his hand, instead of a middle finger. It doesn't matter if you know where it lives, where it works, where it likes to spend the weekends or even if you know its name-" he speaks meanderingly, the words flowing out of his mouth in a breathless rampage. Then he stops and I wonder if he is catching his breath.
But he doesn't. Instead, his face hardens and his eyes become expressionless.
"They're just corpses. Living corpses while they are living, dead corpses when they turn dead. They are not real; nothing in this world is real. Life is just a joke and death is the final punchline¹. Wouldn't it be nice if we just stopped wasting our precious, worthless little lives and just get to the final cut? To finally find the true selves we've been desperately searching for: numb, rotten, meaningless corpses." He states, eyes frozen. I stare at him expecting it to be some kind of dark attempt at humor but he seems serious enough.
"I-" I start to say, not sure what exactly, but I feel like he is expecting me to respond to his morbid monologue.
But he cuts me off immediately just as I begin, his face turning back to normal; the easy smile returning to his face.
"Well, I would love to stay and chat a little more with you. I really do. But you see-" he points at the empty silver tray at his hand, "-I'm in my waiter self today and I need to refill the stocks. So, farewell 'Mr. Someone L met'! See you around," and then he turns his back to me and merrily strolls away.
"Wait!" I shout, trying to reach him. I follow his figure down the hall, trying to keep his quick pace as he skillfully avoids the people on the way, while I clumsily bump into some of them on the other hand.
I'm not sure why I do it; why I chase this L look-a-like in a waiter suit on a dead man's mansion, trying not to miss the back of his disheveled black hair among the funeral's guest. I don't know why I do it when I have Near, Mello, and Halle waiting for me. I don't know why I do it when I haven't found Matt yet. I don't know why I do it when I have to leave this place as fast as possible if I want to make it in time to see 'Damn it, Janet'.
But I do it, nonetheless. Curiosity always got the best of me.
He turns abruptly to the left, entering a kind of pool room (How many rooms does this mansion have?) and I follow him in, passing the door and-
Diving straight into his back.
"Ouch." I groan, my chest hitting him hard.
I step back, straightening myself. I fix my suit and tie while I tap him irritably on the shoulder, trying to get his attention, wondering why the hell he stopped so suddenly.
"Hey, why did you do that?" I ask, but he ignores me. He is frozen in place and, when I touch his shoulder, I feel it is tense. He seems to be staring transfixed at some spot, like he is in some kind of spell.
The silver tray slips from his hand and lands heavily on his foot.
He doesn't seem to mind.
I try again to attract his attention, moving myself so I can be right in front of him.
"If you didn't notice, I'm talking to you-"
"Light?" A familiar voice cuts me off and I turn around immediately to face its owner.
It has been ages since I heard her voice.
"Misora-san?"
She must have approached me when I was distracted, her figure now so close that I can smell the bittersweet perfume she wears. Her long dark hair is pulled back into delicate hairstyle, a lily flower clip adorning it beautifully. She is dressed in a black Chinese dress that goes beyond her ankles, stopping just a bit up her high heeled sandals. The dress is a perfect fit, no sleeve, and it a slit that starts bellow her toned thighs; showing some of the white, milky skin of her legs, the sight at the same time sensual but extremely decorous on her. She doesn't have a single tingle of makeup on her face and I think she looks fascinating, even more alluring then I remembered her to be.
It's really her. It's really Naomi Misora. I still can believe it.
"It's been such a long time. Oh, my how you've grown up. It seems like it was just yesterday when you were an eighteen year old boy, just entering college and now look at you: what a handsome young man you've become." She smiles, her mouth shut and her lips curling just a little bit at the tips.
I had forgotten how I used to find this little smile of hers so charming.
"You look great too, Misora-san. You always were; but it seems that those 10 years haven't scratched an inch of you."
"Why, thank you; but if you still call me Misora-san, I'll start to think you are lying about my aging. We're both grown adults now, call me Naomi."
I smile at her. The name always fit the owner perfectly².
"It's really surprising to meet you here, of all places." She continues, and I'm about to say that I find it surprising too and I want to ask her where she's been, what she's been doing, why is she here when 10 years ago she had moved to the USA to marry her fiancé- but her gaze is already shifting, slowly falling upon the man behind me. Her smile fades and her face acquires an unusually vacant look.
I follow her gaze, my eyes landing on the unmovable L look alike.
I had completely forgotten about him.
He seems to have forgotten about me too, because his eyes pierce through me as if I don't exist, his attention completely fixated on Naomi.
I guess I'm not the only one surprised to see her here.
To say he is shocked would be saying too little; the man is completely dumbstruck, his scarlet-toned eyes bigger than ever, his lips pressed so tightly against one another that I think in some time it will draw blood. He looks like a statue, though I can tell the guy is breathing.
He's actually hyperventilating.
Then Naomi speaks, stone eyes staring back at him.
"Hello, Beyond,"
At first, I'm confused by the English word, not working out that it is actually his name. But when Naomi pronounces it, perfectly and without an accent, he blinks, reacting to the call, his mouth opening and closing, like a fish yearning for water.
Then he suddenly stops the motion, his mouth now agape like he is trying to conjure something. He is definitely going to speak, the words are forming at the back of his throat, ready to be released at any moment-
"GAH!"
-And that's the only sound he manages to utter.
I blink.
Naomi sighs.
"It's been a while, I-"
"WhatareyoudoingherewherehaveyoubeenIneverthoughtIwouldmeetyouagainIthoughtaboutyoueverydayIdreamedofyouIcantbelieveitsyouYoulook amazingYoulookbeautifulIwanttokillyouandeatyouupcompletelyliterally, uh, gah!" he blurts out words at the speed of light, not sure if even he is catching what he is actuallysaying.
Then he stops, cocks his head and returns to his open-close mouth ritual.
Naomi frowns. I stare.
I think he is broken.
"I figured you would be here when I heard they hired the famous buffet from the mysterious Ryuuzaki Rue." She continues, sighing again, bringing her hand to her temples, like she was starting to have the beginning of a headache, "The design of the sardine sandwiches gave it away too; I would recognize it anywhere."
She closes her eyes, and when she opens them again, her gaze lazily shifts between the man named Beyond and myself.
"You two know each other?"
I snap out of my confusion and quickly begin to clear any misunderstanding of an outrageous association with this freak.
"No, I-"
"I can definitely assure you that they don't." A monotonous voice coming from behind Naomi cuts me off.
And there it is, L; indubitably himself in his finest, long sleeved shirt, baggy jeans and horrendous blazer; the same clothes from two months ago. He has his hands in his pockets and the same hunched posture that disgusted me so much back then.
I wish I could say that I'm unaffected by his presence. That it doesn't matter if he had seen me at a most embarrassing situation. That it doesn't matter if he had seen me distressed, at ease, weak, and that I actually had to plead for hs help and thanked him afterwards.
I wish I could say it really doesn't matter.
I can't.
Loathe at first sight is hard to council.
He makes his way towards us, entering the room from the opposite side we are standing, and I can see there is someone following him, babbling to him and, from the look on L's face, making him incredibly bored.
I see red hair, a cigarette, and I know it's Matt: finally deciding to show himself.
I don't know if I should get mad and yell at him for making us late or stay quiet and delightfully watch one of the worst brats in the world get the better of L.
…I decide for the later.
"And I was wondering, Ryuuzaki, why there is so much fuss about Game of Thrones—"
"Jeevas-san,"
" I mean, ok, there is a lot of pointless nudity, gory deaths, a huge amount of blood, immoral and disturbing values, vengeful chicks, more blood-"
"Jeevas-san,"
"-but hey! That's what makes a good show. Don't get me wrong, I like it and all. It's good- "
"Jeevas-san,"
"But to actually make a game out of it? Seriously, I don't know what Tell Tale Series was thinking when they picked up the project-"
"Jeevas-san,"
"I mean, The Wolf Among Us and Tales of Borderland were so good! Like, whoa! I spent days without sleep just playing through the damn things-"
"Jeev-"
"-The plot was so good and the characters were outstanding. I can't wait to play the second season from The Wolf Among Us; the ending just killed me. I doubt this Game of Thrones wannabe game will even reach its feet. And, oh, you know, you can call me Matt-"
L sighs heavily.
"Jeevas-san,"
"Hey buddy, I said you could call me Mat- Oh, Light! I didn't notice you! Hi, there!" Matt waves at me cheerfully.
I return it in the same enthusiastic way.
"Hello, Matt!"
L shoots me a cold look, his eyes sharpened into two tiny lines.
I smirk at him.
"Ryuuzaki! I was just waiting for you to show up." Naomi turns around to face him, her voice merry, like she has just encountered an old friend.
His face softens at the sight of her.
"How do you do, Misora-san? It sure has been a long time." He becomes serene, his voice tinged with an unusual fondness when it is directed at Naomi.
What is going on?
"Wait, do you know each other?"
"Of course we know each other; Misora-san and I are old pals." L calmly states
"-but answering your previous inquiry, Misora-san, it's not Beyond and this young gentleman who are the acquaintances here. I'm the one at fault."
L locks his black pit eyes with mine, his stare unwavering as he speaks.
He brings his thumb to his lips and grins that stupid, creepy grin of his.
"Well, hello Light-kun," he says my name in that phony, ridiculous way he took a likeness of using.
At the sound of it, Matt sonorously laughs from behind L. Naomi lifts an eyebrow and the aforementioned Beyond is still the frozen robot.
My left eye twitches.
I guess I'm not going to make it to anywhere, anytime soon.
xxx
Notes:
¹ This is actually from Batman; it's Joker's philosophy. I thought it extremely fitted Beyond.
² The name 'Naomi' means the 'the most beautiful'.