A/N: Ack, I'm so behind in everything. But I'm making progress. I think. *crosses fingers this doesn't happen again* On the bright side, I actually watched Death Note, so that should help my characters build up…

Raito is going to wind up contradicting Kira's ideals sometimes, but keep in mind he hasn't come into contact with the death note. I don't see him considering such action as Kira unless an opportunity to do so fell into his hands, aka. the notebook.

BTW, where I start talking about theoretical stuff, they're all legit. Stuff I studied at some point or other. High school this chapter. And yes, I did learn imaginary numbers in year eleven, in this case the equivalent of a junior.

Enjoy. :)


Regression

Chapter 2

Raito sat upon a seat in the empty bleachers after reigning victorious in the first set.

'You alright sempai?' his opponent asked him. 'You look a little tired.'

The brunet looked over the, ironically, upperclassman. 'I'm fine,' he said, unscrewing the cap of his water bottle and taking a few controlled gulps. 'This sun is brutal though.'

It was to be expected, with summer steadily approaching and turning the green grass grey. Although they had about a month before the rays really did become a constant menace, the present spring day was admittedly rather hot.

'True.' The upperclassman wiped his face off with his towel. 'To think we're going to have to play the championships in this heat.' Sunday's forecast was roughly the same as the Thursday they found themselves in. Actually, it had been a rather hot spring, with the occasional rain bringing brief and short term relief.

'Makes me glad it's the senior match,' Raito said with a forced grin, drinking a little more before replacing the cap. He could, after all, only drink so much before acquiring himself an unwelcome headache. 'Actually, I think I'll head home now. If I run after the ball any more I might wind up crawling in the streets.'

The upperclassman laughed, a little awkwardly. 'Am I that bad in returning the ball?'

'No, you're that good,' the junior champion, most untruthfully, replied as he wiped off and replaced his towel, bottle and racket into his sports bag. 'I'm heading home before it rains.'

'Rain in this weather?' The tone was incredulous. 'You've got to be kidding.'

'The meteorology bureau would disagree with you,' Raito pointed out.

'They're hardly ever right,' the other counted, though not particularly enthusiastically. After all, who would begrudge the rain? Except perhaps their mothers who relied on the sun to dry the laundry.

'They'll be right today,' Raito said with a degree of certainty. 'The air is definitely humid enough.'

'If you say so.' The upperclassman laughed again. 'Goodness knows my mother's rose tomato plants could use some rain.'


Raito had turned out to be correct, but that didn't surprise him. The sudden rise in humidity had been as good as a neon sign, and the clouds had only validated that. On their own, grey could easily be disregarded but it was a good validation for something already proven by another, unrelated, factor.

He was also right in leaving when he did; he was in his room before the rain started pattering at his window, and he was…not glad per say but relieved enough. It wouldn't have mattered a great deal though; he had to shower anyway, and he did so after grabbing a change of clothes and locking the door in case his sister came home and needed to use the restroom. Unfortunately, she had little sense of her elder brother's privacy – which Raito, except for a few select occasions, didn't really mind. After all, it wasn't as though he had anything to hide. Even if Sayu did accuse him of stealing all the "smart" things.

He'd spent fifteen minutes thereafter explaining kindly that, while extensive research had been done into the area, there was no material evidence to suggest that aptitude to knowledge was inherited through genes, or if genes had anything at all to do with academics beyond that of grafting the initial neuronal pathways of memory. As he explained, the nerves could be strengthened by constant stimulation and practice of them, therefore the original capacities were barely relevant to how somebody progresses along their academic career.

Unfortunately, Sayu didn't seem to understand, because she persisted each time she found herself stumped on a topic in class, or scoring below average on an exam while Raito had passed the same with almost full marks. But she'd be good-natured about it all.

'I'm going to be a hairdresser,' she'd declare. 'I don't need to get top scores for that, and you only live once.'

That was what stuck with Raito, amidst all the other things his little sister blabbed on about at the dinner table to keep the conversation alive. Because that was the exact opposite of his own life, focused almost entirely on study. Associates, but nobody he could call friends. Things he did to occupy time, but nothing he could really call a hobby.

But his parents always said that the final years of high school were the most important. Once he was in university, surely all that would change.

Surely.


Raito sat at his desk after his shower, hair slick from the cool water and smelling faintly of vanilla. His math homework was open, a double spread of questions on complex numbers and basic arithmetic of them. When the teacher had first mentioned them, a majority of the students had looked at him as though he had grown an extra head. After all, imaginary numbers sounded rather counterintuitive at first, but if one simply paused to think they made a great deal of sense. After all, it was the only way to explain the existence of infinity. The square root of negative one also allowed for a wider scope of algebraic proofs which lend themselves to a vast array of physical theories, so it was simply a wonder why they felt the need to call it "imaginary".

He'd entertained the notion for a while, but it was hardly an interesting trail to follow. So two classes afterwards he simply opened his exercise book and neatly began working out the sums.

Really, they were easier than quadratics once they were accepted into the general mathematic schema in one's brain. And so the questions were tedious, but he had no intention of slipping up and making a mistake where it counted simply because he had not practiced enough. The questions assigned would be good as a start; closer to the exam he would pursue, like he always did, the recommended sections and past exam papers to ensure the best breadth and understanding. It was a study style that got him top marks since his elementary school years, and therefore there was no logical reason to change that.

Halfway through the questions, his mother knocked on his door.

'Raito,' she said through the wood. 'The neighbours brought apples; I thought you might like some.' The door opened and her head peeked through. 'Oh, have you been studying all this time?'

Of course he had, and she should know that.

Sachiko brought the basket into the room and offered it to Raito. The brunet took one without looking, left hand working diligently despite the interruption.

'You should take a break soon.' She sounded a little worried. 'You did come home early, but you still look tired and I doubt the weather was any help.'

'Yeah,' Raito mumbled. 'Yoshimoto-sempai had me running all over the courts.'

While it was true that the other used the same suffix to address him, Japanese society dictated that, as an elder and an upperclassman, he used the same. Of course, that made the exchange a little pointless as it implied they were both senior and yet junior to the other. But he was Japanese, and such things were normal for the Japanese culture. After all, it was the same with classmates, calling them –kun or –chan, and then the workforce once he graduated and began work, preferably with the NPA. They didn't really speak for equality – but if there was equality, there would be no need for justice, no need to protect the weak. In essence, there wouldn't be any cause or effect without imbalance; it was the basic nature of the world.

But even imbalance was painfully organised on most occasions. He recalled the incident where a day-care centre had been taken hostage; while he felt the man's actions were not to be condoned and his arrest well deserved, he also felt that the panicked excitement of the children present had not been ill-felt as some others believed. Although they were young, anyone in their situation would, past the fear, be uplifted by the change in the usual mundane routine. That of course only worked when no-body was hurt; pain was after all not worth the reward. Part of the appeal, beyond giving safety to those lives that lacked it, was the less predictable schedule. Five days out of seven it was up in the air whether Soichiro would return home in time for dinner or not.

But his mother was right in needing a break; it was good for the brain, and the body. And he could use some sugar as a brain boost, and apples had plenty of fructose. And a break from his chair, even if it was to simply look at a blank ceiling for five minutes.


Raito awoke to his mother knocking on the door again.

'Dinner's ready.'

The door cracked open thereafter, and Sachiko came over. 'Oh dear, did you fall asleep?' She sounded amused however, not reprimanding as most parents would be. After all, Raito hardly ever did skive off studying, so it wasn't necessarily a bad thing to find he, for once, had.

Raito sat up and rubbed his eyes, the half-eaten apple tumbling away before he knelt down to stop it. Apparently he had fallen asleep.

Strange; he was not accustomed to doing so.

'You've been working awfully hard lately.' His mother sounded a little concerned. 'And I understand that with the nation-wide exams coming up, this is a particularly stressful time for you, but –' She knelt forward and brushed a bit of hair from his forehead. '– please don't overwork yourself.'

Raito smiled, even if in all honesty he felt no reason to do so. It was nice to hear his mother's worry; in a way, it was an open display of her love. But she said the same words so often to her father, and even to him on occasion, that the real meaning in them became obscured and thereby lost.

'I'm fine 'kaa-san,' he said. 'I guess it's just the weather.'

It was still warm in the room, despite the rain outside.

'Yes, it does feel somewhat like a sauna out there,' Sachiko sighed. 'All right then, come down for dinner.'


'Is there something wrong with the food, Onii-chan?'

Raito might have choked on his food a few years ago, but Sayu had long ago lost the ability to trick him like that.

'It's delicious like all of 'kaa-san's cooking,' he replied calmly, reaching for his water.

Sayu pouted. 'So that means you think my cooking stinks.' She stuck out her lower lip, before continuing innocently. 'But why is your plate still half full then? Or did you sneak in too many potato chips when 'kaa-san wasn't looking?'

'I did no such thing.' And he hadn't, therefore he had no need to whisper conspiringly like his little sister did.

'But she does have a point,' Sachiko said from the stove, finishing off the container she was packing for Soichiro who had called ahead to say he would be staying practically overnight for a case. 'You've barely touched your dinner Raito. And I know three bites from an apple isn't enough to fill you up.'

'Well, it might be the potato chips I had after all,' Raito said thoughtfully, pushing away his plate. 'I'm sorry 'kaa-san; I really am full.'

'Oh, it's alright,' Sachiko said.

But the truth was, Raito thought, frowning slightly at the plate. Had he eaten the potato chips he normally did? It was easy to assume he had, but he couldn't exactly recall whether or not he –

'Oh, Raito.' His mother's voice interrupted his musings. 'If you're done, could you drop this and a change of clothes for your father.' Her voice dropped off into a bit of a sigh. 'I imagine he'll be calling later saying he has to stay overnight.'

'Sure 'kaa-san.'

Sayu stuck her tongue out at her brother. 'I'd do it,' she teased. 'But I've got something important to do.'

'It's okay,' Raito said, pushing a hint of exasperation into his voice. 'It'll be a good ride before studying again.' Because the parcel of food was a little too bulky to carry in his hands; his mother had probably packed some for the other members staying late with him as she usually did.

'Hmmph, you're boring.' Sayu pouted again.