A special thank-you to everyone who has read my story thus far! ^_^ Also, it has come to my attention I've been using Japanese honorfics, and not everyone might understand what those mean. So, briefly: "-san" is the equivilant of Miss So-and-So, Mrs. So-and-So, or Mr. So-and-So. It's a polite, formal way of adressing someone. "-chan" is used for female friends, or as a term of endearment towards a female. "-kun" is the same, except it is for male friends or as a term of endearment towards a male. I might use others later, but I'll post those when I do. Sorry for the confusion! ^_^'

Also, if you have any ideas or suggestions for this story, please feel free to post them in a review, or PM them to me! Reader input is an awesome thing~3

One warm, sunny Sunday, just after 3 o'clock in the afternoon, when the streets were full of people enjoying the nice weather, a startling spectacle appeared. A gangling, hunched-over young man with a mop of black hair was drifting through the crowd, one hand handcuffed to a beet-red young woman in a frilly pink apron. Seemingly oblivious to everyone's stares, he led her along without even glancing behind, and the young lady followed helplessly, as if in a trance. Walking beside them was a gorgeous young man with brown hair, his perfect face screwed up in frustration, and glaring daggers at his black-haired companion.

Most who saw them merely wrote it off as some kind of prank, or the filming of a movie. A good number mistook it as a bizarre kidnapping, and began hurriedly phoning the police. The police, swamped with calls detailing a peculiar, bed-headed suspect and his drool-worthy, brown-haired accomplice, looked into a video feed to catch the perpetrator red-handed. But once the police chief, currently at work on a special Kira Task Force, recognized the strange kidnapper, he slapped the palm of his hand over his face, muttered a few choice cuss words, and told the police he'd take over from there.

Of course, I can only guess that's what happened. Because I was currently being pulled by handcuffs behind a gangling, hunched over young man with a mop of black hair. And even if anyone had asked me if I was being kidnapped, I wouldn't have been able to answer. Mostly because I'm not sure I was even still breathing at that point.

For about ten minutes, I was too shocked and out of it to even think. Then, one thought popped into my head.

This has to be a dream.

More thoughts quickly followed.

This is just a weird hallucination caused by too much sugar. I shouldn't have eaten that mocha ice cream before I went to bed last night. This is just a dream. There is no way my luck is that bad.

Of course, then Life had to ruin my delusion by making me notice the painful grinding of the metal handcuff against my wrist. Pain couldn't be felt in dreams. So there went that theory.

Then, the dam on my thoughts broke, and my brain began racing to process the situation.

Ok. I asked his name, and he handcuffed me. Ryoko tried to stop him, and he said it was police business, and he needed to ask me some questions. Then, his friend asked what the heck he was doing, and he said he was bringing in a Kira suspect…

Oh, crap.

Kira. He thought I was Kira. I wasn't exactly sure of the correlation between awkwardly asking his name and being a psychotic criminal serial killer. Apparently, neither did his brunette friend, because he began arguing furiously with him in a low voice.

"This girl is not who you think she is!"

"The chances are slim," my crush – the other guy had called him Ryuuzaki, right? – replied, tugging me through another crowd of gawking people, who parted to let us through, "But there is still a chance. And because there is a chance, we can't afford to ignore her completely."

"There is no chance," the other young man hissed.

"That's not true, Light-kun," Ryuuzaki stated mater-of-factly, "She freely admitted she had been watching me, and asked my name. Those are two reasons to suspect her."

They kept on arguing, though it was starting to be apparent Ryuuzaki wasn't about to be swayed. I was only half-paying attention. I was too busy silently freaking out.

Oh god. O-O-Oh god. I'm getting arrested. I'm getting arrested. I'm going to lose my job. I…I have enough money to pay next month's rent, right? Oh no. What if…what if they send me to jail? They can't do that just for asking a name, right? But if they think I'm Kira…then maybe they will make an exception. Oh god. What do I do? What do I do?

Thankfully, before I had time to start fully panicking, we had already reached our destination. Adding to my immense confusion, it wasn't the police station, like I was expecting. It was actually a very nice, very expensive-looking hotel.

Ryuuzaki tugged me along through the lobby, earning another round of gaping stares, down a hall, and into an elevator. The brown-haired Adonis he called "Light" stayed behind, presumably to keep the hotel staff from phoning Security.

Up we went, to the thirty-second floor. I stumbled behind him miserably, wondering what the heck kind of policeman arrests someone and takes them directly to a hotel. Suddenly, the door at the end of the hall burst open, and out came three men. One was older, at least in his late sixties, with light gray hair and a mustache. The next was a few decades younger, but taller, with dark brown hair streaked with gray. He, too, had a mustache. The third man only looked a tad older than Ryuuzaki and Light, and had shaggy black hair. All three wore different expressions; the older gentleman looked slightly concerned, the younger guy looked upset, and the middle-aged man looked ticked.

"Ryuuzaki!" he bellowed, glaring down at my hunched-over crush, "Explain yourself! Now!"

My attractive captor glanced up at the middle-aged man, frowning slightly. The older gentleman stepped forward.

"I think what Chief Yagami wants to know is why you have a young woman handcuffed to you," he informed him quietly.

"What were you thinking?" the youngest man blurted out, "Everyone at the police station thought you were a kidnapper!"

Ryuuzaki's dark eyes widened.

"…a…kidnapper…?" he whispered, a note of shock in his voice.

"Well, what do you expect, parading down the street with a young girl handcuffed to you?" The Chief demanded angrily, "Do you have any idea the lengths we've had to go to…?"

The raven-haired young man interrupted him by raising his pointer finger to his pale lips.

"Chief Yagami, please keep your voice down. This is a hotel, and I'd prefer if we didn't get kicked out before the next scheduled rotation."

The middle-aged man's face flushed to a shade akin to my own, but not from embarrassment. His face twisted up in fury, he opened his mouth, and I could venture a guess that he wasn't going to whisper an apology.

Thankfully, the younger gentleman spoke up first.

"Are you alright, miss?" He asked hurriedly, crossing over to my side. I stared at him blankly for a little bit. Once I processed he was actually talking to me, I tried to say 'I'm fine' but all that came out was a choked little squeak.

"…eeeep…."

Both the younger man and middle-aged man turned to glare at the handsome hunchback.

"What the hell did you do to her, Ryuuzaki-san?" the dark-haired young man demanded.

My crush's brow furrowed slightly.

"Nothing. She was acting normally at the bakery."

Without warning, he took a step closer, and I suddenly found myself mere millimeters from his face, his raven hair brushing against my forehead, his dark, mysterious eyes locked with my own.

"Your face is abnormally red. Are you feeling alright?" he asked, his warm breath against my face.

My skin flushed to a shade not thought humanly possible. I'm absolutely certain I stopped breathing at that point, because a few seconds after that…

Thunk!

…I fainted dead away.

The next thing I remember is waking up on a really soft, plushy bed. I would've been more than willing to write everything off as a dream, but two things prevented me. One, I wasn't wearing my glasses, which rendered my entire world a blurry mess of splotches of color. Two, moments after I woke up, a hazy figure entered the room.

"Are you feeling better, miss?"

The voice was familiar. Maybe the old man from the hallway?

"Um…yes…I think," I replied unconvincingly, sitting up. I couldn't help it. I wasn't even convinced myself, without my glasses. I reached for the brown-shaped blotch that I assumed was a bedside table, and felt around until my fingers found thin metal. Sighing in relief, I pulled them on.

It was the older gentleman from the hallway, and he was carrying a covered tray. He set the tray on the aforementioned bedside table, and removed the cover to reveal a tall glass of ice water and a mouth-watering strawberry parfait.

"I thought you might like something to restore your blood sugar," he said kindly.

"Oh! T-Thank you!" I managed, trying to scrounge up a smile. Apparently, it too was unconvincing, because it made the man look more worried, not less.

I took the silverware and spooned a strawberry into my mouth, which I basically swallowed whole. I wasn't even all that hungry. I was just eating to calm my nerves.

"Uh…sir?" I asked quietly.

"Yes?"

I swirled the whipped cream into the yogurt absentmindedly, my eyes trained on the floor.

"I…I-I'm not sure I know what's going on. The guy who handcuffed me…"

"Ryuuzaki?" he offered helpfully.

I nodded, and I was sure a tiny blush sprang to my cheeks as I said his name.

"Yeah…Ryuuzaki-san…um…is he a police officer or something?"

The older man chuckled. It wasn't unpleasant, or even mocking. In fact, it sounded kind of warm.

"In a manner of speaking, I suppose."

I took a huge bite of the parfait and gulped painfully.

"So does that mean…I'm under arrest?" I asked meekly.

He smiled kindly.

"No, you aren't under arrest. You're just here for questioning, and it won't be put on your permanent record. Judging from Light-san's account, I daresay there was a misunderstanding. But…"

The older gentleman continued, picking up the empty platter and replacing the lid, "…that is for you and Ryuuzaki to discus. For now, please stay in this room, and try to rest a little longer. If there is anything you need, please let me know."

"Thank you," I replied gratefully. I meant it. Just talking to him made me feel better. That, and knowing I wasn't going to jail. At least, not yet.

I wanted to ask his name, but seeing as how super-de-dooper that turned out the last time I tried, I was understandably hesitant. But, I reasoned, he had already told me to let him know if I needed anything, and without a name, I couldn't really do that. So, bracing myself for the worst thing to possibly happen, I gulped, and asked.

"Um, sir? W-What's your name?"

Surprisingly, the room did not collapse on my head. No policeman kicked in my door, and thank God almighty the old man did not whip out another pair of handcuffs.

"You may call me Watari," he replied softly. Opening the door, he gave me a slight bow, which I returned, "I hope you rest well, Shortcake-san."

Then he closed the door. For which I was grateful. Because if he had caught sight of the startling shade of cherry red I had just turned, I'm pretty sure he would've called 911. Or the Japanese equivalent.