I'm ba-ack. Anyway, if you see grammatical errors, please let-me-know, now, On to the Ra-be-damned Fic!-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The kitchen was a mess, as was the woman slumped on the table. Black hair stuck up at all angles on her head and barely healed scrapes covered his arms. The torn baggy clothing she was wearing looked as though it had been slept in and needed to be washed. From her delicate hand a bottle of Samuel Adams Utopias was loosely held. The woman raised her head to take a sip from the bottle. His face was even worse then the rest of his appearance. emaciated and insipid, her face could have been a skull. Dull black eyes had the look of someone who has seen too much. The eyes were filled with despair and sadness. No one would assume that this starved and ragged corpse was only a few days before happily discussing the life she and her fiancée would lead together.
A TV was tuned on to a wedding, of all things, foolish in her state of mind but it made her feel better. It battled to maintain dominance over her tears and the stranglehold of silence the permeated the cheap apartment she had rented to get away from the sympathy of her family's glances.
The priest was droning on inexorably towards the infamous "till death do us part". She had to laugh bitterly at that. At some point in the last few days, the well-worn phrase had come to feel more like a threat than a romantic promise.
It was, after all, death that had parted Naomi from her hus-fiancée, sudden and pointless death delivered at the hands of a cabbie by Shirokanedai Station in Minato, Tokyo. Judging by the internal damage done to Raye's body, the accident investigator estimated the cab was traveling at fifty to sixty miles on a city street. The impact had knocked Raye out of his shoes. They were found, still laced, seventy-three feet away from his body, a detail Naomi hadn't needed to know and was trying to forget now.
Nearly one hundred people had witnessed the accident; half a baker's dozen stayed to tell their story to the police. No one had managed to get the license plate number. No one heard the squeal of the brakes. There were no marks on the asphalt to indicat her husband's murderer had tried to stop or even swerve.
"Drunk off his ass or high." The ever-so-helpful accident investigator had offered. "or maybe just didn't know where the fuckin' brake pedal was. Some of these get there licenses off the backs of cracker jack boxes on the boat over from Iraq."
Seven hours after Raye had died Naomi had identified Raye at the morgue. Despite the violence of the collision, his body was almost completely unmarked. Still, he hadn't looked as if he were sleeping. That was a story sold to children in need of comfort. Without life within, the human body looked like the awkward and asymmetrical compilation of parts it was. His death face would forever eclipse the wonderful memory pictures of him in life. She dropped the bottle. Shards of glass shattered against the floor, liquid spilling from the smashed bottle. 50,400.80 yen, what Raye had planned for the man to drink at their wedding, wasted.
She passed out still mourning the loss of the alcohol.
---
You may begin."
The To-Oh entrance exam lay open-faced before Light. Picking up the provided pencil, He read the problem. It was an easy one:
A common anticoagulant, heparin, prevents the formation of new clots and slows the development of preexisting clots. Usually given by the I.V. route, it's ordered in doses of units per hour or milliliters per hour. Each dose is individualized based on the patient's coagulation status, which is measured by the activated thrombopastin time test. An order states heparin 40.000 U in 1 L of D5W I.V. Infuse at 1,000 U/hr. What is the flow rate in milliliters per hour?
Doing the calculations quickly in his head he scratched response d) To administer heparin at 1,000 U/hr, you should set the flow rate at 25 ml/hr.
"Hmm? You there! Number 1-6-2! Sit properly!"
The auburn-haired youth glanced in his seat, momentarily distracted, and was instantly lost in endless obsidian eyes. Dark windswept bangs hung over his face, distracting Light from those challenging dark eyes. The untamed flyaway raven locks made him look like a hobo who had simply taken a wrong turn and accidentally ended up in the examination room. An image the rumpled, worn, unflattering clothing did nothing to remedy. And that posture, Damn! When the examiner yelled, he should have blessed his grandchildren for his consideration! Surely sitting like that did nothing for the circulation, in fact, the guy's knees were probably going to blow out by the time he hit 30. Instead of showing the heartfelt consideration any normal human being would exhibit, he rolled his eyes and repositioned himself, putting his feet up like he owned the place, then as soon as the Procter's back was turned, went right back to crouching in that abominable position, how did he manage to balance like that, anyway? Maybe he was part spider monkey. He laughed internally at the thought and went back to examination.
But something about the guy nagged at his subconscious, he had seen the judicial look in those blank gun-metal-gray depths, a shrewd judicial gleam that had keenly judged him and found him wanting.
---
"So I informed Nanami that I had no idea how many boyfriendsAkaneNakamura had managed to get her claws into and to please, for her own sake and the welfare of Japan, in general, attempt to buy, steal, or barrow a life as soon as possible." Sayu giggled.
"Big brother? Light? Light!"
light felt the greasy French fry actually thunk against his forehead before he turned to to look at his little sister who had taken the time out of her schedule to bring him lunch.
"I hate it when you do this." Her thin black eyebrows furrowed at him from across the table.
"Do what?"
"ignore good gossip. Fail to laugh at any of my perfectly good jokes."
He smiled charmingly. " sorry, little sister. Could you just hold up a sign or something where I'm supposed to laugh."
She gave him the look. 'you're an an arrogant jerk and I don't know why I put up with you.' It said plainly. She started to gather her books from the park-bench. "Does the term misanthrope mean anything to you?"
(for those of you who are victims of crappy government-school education it means hater of mankind)
"I was just kidding." He smiled genuinely "please don't go, I haven't finished my burger."
She sat down but made it poignantly clear that he was on probation until further notice. "Who's that black-haired boy with the weird eyes?"
"What a descriptive statement" Light grinned sarcastically, knowing full-well whom she meant.
"Oh, you know, the one you've been staring at for the past ten minutes."
Light cursed inwardly. The problem with little sisters, besides their officious insistence on having their jokes laughed at was the fact that they rarely ever missed out on the things their siblings really, really wanted them to miss.
"I wasn't staring at him. He's just some kid who finished before me." Light stated emphatically.
"You were. Why don't you talk to him?"
'Why didn't he?' Light thought to himself watching the guy devour thirteen donuts then taking out a bottle of tea to wash it down.
"Go on!" his sister urged grinning at him like an out-of-season jack-o-lantern.
Might as well, see what the guys deal was. He got up and, trying to block out his sister's cheering, walked to the guys table.
"Hey, I-"
"-Kaifa haloka" (a.n:How are you?)
"What?"
"Kaifa haloka." The man said slowly, as if speaking to an idiot.
"I'm sorry, I don't speak-"
"-Arabic," the man interrupted again. "I didn't expect it but it does come as something of a disappointment."
"Disappointment?" Light parroted, feeling like an idiot and probably looking like one too.
"Arabic is an important language." The gun-metal eyes gleamed in confrontational ire. "to lack knowledge of it is surely negligence."
Light's retort was cut off by the bell signaling the second portion of the exam would begin shortly.
---
Light came home that evening late. He smelled like wood smoke and barbecue sauce.
My mom, dad, his leg draped over the side of a stool, and I were already at the table eating dinner. Skewers of succulent chicken dipped in barbecue sauce, grilled to perfection over hot charcoals, then washed down with cold beer. Of course, there were other, obviously more healthy foods to be had but this was some high-quality Yakitori, Yummm!
As he walked in through the front door and brushed his feet on the matt, the perfectionist as always, before taking his shoes off, my mom called out in greeting, "So, Light, how do you think you did on the exam?"
Light walked elegantly, like a dancer, I cringed inwardly at the disturbing image of my brother straddling a pole, and took a chair next to me. "It was okay, I guess," too easy was the unspoken message that everyone at the table understood. "What happened to your leg, Dad?"
My father winced "I went for a shot I shouldn't have gone for. Twisted it, damn Matsuda."
"Did you get enough to eat" my mom asked looking concerned, ignoring her husbands comment. Light patted his stomach "Karubi, Yakiniku and chicken. Not as good as your chicken, of course."
"Actually, your father cooked-"
"-Yeah, by calling Matsuzaka Steak and Yakitori and paying the guy extra to deliver." I cut in grinning.
"But I did I did microwave the sauce, so that counts as cooking." Dad grumbled glaring at me like I'd been caught selling government secrets to the Chinese.
Light winked at dad. "Well, the stuff at the café had to be better than Dad's cooking. Glad I ate there."
"And just for that you get no desert." My dad growled. "Ice cream. Haagen-Daz's Strawberry Cheesecake Ice Cream."
"Oooh, Haagen-Dazs?!" Light groaned "I take it all back. I apologize, I grovel, I beg, You're the best cook ever Dad. I can't live without my Haagen-Dazs."
"Drama queen." I muttered under my breath.
Light heard me, and ruffled my hair in revenge. Then turned back to talk with my parents.
A totally normal scene around a totally normal dinner table. Nobody would have ever known the truth. Light wasn't Light. Sure, he generally acted about the same, and No, he was not some alien-pod person, or a demon possessing my brother's body, but something about him…was off.
"What's your issue?" Light must have noticed me staring at him.
I snapped out of my daze. "What? Oh, nothing. I was just thinking."
"You were staring at me."
I forced a laugh. "Really? I thought I was just staring at blank space. But then again, blank space, your head. What's the difference?"
It worked. Light snatched up a brad roll and chucked at m. I caught it in midair a split second before it would have hit my face.
For a moment we glared at each other.
"Light, don't throw food," my dad sipped his coffee. "It's undignified."
"No worries, Dad, Light's not quick enough to hit me anymore. He's slowed down, lost his touch, sad really…" I added the last part in to ride his nerves.
He raised an eyebrow. "Don't push it, squirt."
I smiled, it was a fake smile, but the best I could do on such short notice. "You used to be quicker when you were still on the tennis team. I guess all that studying must have slowed your reflexes, old man." Before my brother's study binges, aka pre-midlife crisis, he would not have put up with that. He'd have never let me challenge him and get away. If he was my brother, we would be wrestling on the floor, before he overpowered me, put me in a headlock and given me a noogie until I screamed for mercy, or Dad freed me from his stranglehold of death.
But now, he just gave me that cold, shallow smile.
Maybe it's because he'd changed, perhaps it was because I'd changed, whatever it was I hated it. the silence stretched between us for a few minutes and our parents, feeling uncomfortable, made small talk.
"I have homework to do," I intoned finally. "May I be excused?"
"Be sure to come back down for ice cream." Mom called, as I beat my hasty retreat.
---
Unbeknownst to the upper-class suburban family a pair of black occuli was watching the plight of the rapidly melting Strawberry Cheesecake Ice Cream with considerable distress.
The shadow managed to find his voice as the ice cream finally melted, its scream, long and heart-wrenching drove to the core of a heart he had not even known he'd possessed.
"Watari, I do believe the cameras are no longer necessary."
---
Misa drifted on a gentle sea halfway between waking and dreaming. Though her eyes were closed, she felt the sun's brilliance through her eyelids and smiled at the pleasant warmth on her face.
A shadow moved between her and the sun's nourishing heat; she wrinkled brow slightly but then relaxed as the huge familiar hand slipped around her own and gave it a squeeze. She tried to say "Hey, Daddy.", but it was way too much effort in her wonderfully lazy state. So smiled to indicate he was welcome, and drifted along, her hand in his, loving her father, remembering all the years of looking up to him and adoring him, The neighborhood kids had called her a 'Daddy's girl', but she hadn't cared. Her mother had been happy, her own childhood had been a nightmare, she had said, and she often told Misa one of the most essential gifts a young woman could have is a good healthy respect for her father.
"Not being able to love him, not wanting the man within a hundred mile radius of you," her mother had said, "that's a horrible thing to happen to a girl. I'm delighted you feel for your dad so much." Then she had smiled a bit sadly. "As the American author Andrew Vachss once said, 'having a child is another chance to get it right'"
Misa had understood the message, and had been extremely proud of her mother; whatever had happened to her mom as a little girl, it had not held her back. She was a capable and empathetic lawyer and an amazing mom. The only thing she wasn't great at was being a good wife.
Her father's grip began to slacken, but Misa tightened her own in response. This moment was a gift; she savored the peace and quiet she spent together with her father. So many clueless people didn't get that it was just about being together, not over planning days an nights with 'fun activities' and pricey presents to make up for a missed audition, her family had gotten it right, thou, and-
"-Time to wake up, Misa."
The panic started she knew what the dream was, the word survivor, echoed through her dazed head like drumming of church bells.
Her father's voice whispered more insistent. "Wake up." The words were outside her head, which meant he was truly alive, truly there, trying to wake her from her dreams, of course he was. Of course, we all survived, because this is my life, and things like dying don't happen. Her heart beat faster and she tried her best to pry her eyelids open. She was incredibly tired. Her head swam as if she was flying; her left leg wrenched, the way body parts sometimes do when one was falling asleep or waking up. She tried to turn her head to avoid staring at the sun, but just could not manage it.
"Misa Amane. Wake up."
And she did her face bumping roughly into a magazine, she not only turned her head, but opened her eyes as well, a smile on her face and-
A scream ripped out of her, tearing up and out from her diaphragm to the top of her head, she screamed again and again, it had not been her father leaning over her, the thing was not even human, its face was flat, the flesh swollen and stretched like pliant white candle wax. Its reptilian eyes were wide and staring, its snake-like nostrils flared, the wings transformed the figure turning into some sort of bird of prey, and her, the scared little rabbit it planned to devour for lunch.
A voice echoed from the beak-like mouth but she was screaming so loudly she couldn't understand what it was saying. She shot herself away from it, arms and legs flailing, scrabbling backward in terror, shrieking, the creature moved with her, raising an arm and jabbing a clawed hand over her mouth.
"My name is Rem." Its voice murmured softly, face aglow with brilliant crimson flame that radiated from its eyes.
Misa never heard this, for she had fainted dead away.
---
