A/N: This is last month's chapter. Had trouble somewhere at the middle. I've started this one, so it might be out in the next few days. Fingers crossed anyway. I might as well put a dent into one of my fics.
The comment about Matsuda is just Raito's initial perception; he's one of my favourite Death Note characters, and he'll show his true and awesome colours later on.
Enjoy, and sorry for the lateness again.
Regression
Chapter 3
Raito had considered taking his bike, but halfway to his father's office he found himself relieved he had chosen to walk instead. His reason was that it was simply still too warm out for such haste, and it was far more comfortable to just walk lazily in the humid weather.
He was surprised though to arrive back home after his errand to find the lights on.
'Oh dear,' Sachiko said, sounding relieved as she opened the door. 'I was wondering what was keeping you.'
Raito toed his shoes off without unlacing them, unusual for him as he was normally quite pedantic about little things like that. 'I was enjoying the ride,' he said, heading over to the sink to wash the sweat off his face. It clung insistently, the water droplets leaving him momentarily cold in their localised positions before evaporating and taking a little of the heat along. He sighed in disgruntlement and cupped his hands under the running tap instead, splashing his face and letting out a quiet sound of contentment at the comfort.
His mother was still watching him as he closed the tap and dried his face and hands. 'Are you sure you're feeling well?' she hedged. 'You're not acting like yourself today. If you're sick you can always stay home tomorrow.'
And do what?
'No thanks 'kaa-san,' Raito responded. 'I'm fine; it's just the weather, as I said.'
She smiled at him. 'Why not go to bed early then?' his mother suggested. 'You don't have anything important due tomorrow, right?'
'I've just got some things to finish off,' he mumbled, quickly grabbing a packet of potato chips to fuel him for later. 'Don't worry; I'll finish my work and then head to bed.'
And he would go to bed the same time he always did. Or so he intended. Unfortunately, it took longer than expected finishing his tasks.
Frustratingly longer, because they were so straightforward that he could, metaphorically speaking, do them in his sleep.
'Raito!' Sayu sung merrily, waltzing into her brother's room. She rarely got the opportunity, with her brother being as unrelenting as the clock in his routine on most occasions, but when she did, she savoured them immensely. After all, she would always be his little mischievous sister, and that gave her the privilege to wheedle him into doing her chores for her, begging for help in homework she couldn't manage (if only because her teachers weren't half as good as her brother)…and to wake him up in the most annoying way possible.
In Raito's case, it was singing in a high pitched voice, using that patronising tone that made one feel ten years too young.
And it normally worked, getting her brother up with a small scowl (well hidden) and a grumble (that escaped before his brain awoke to control the rest of him) and, very rarely, she received a pillow to the stomach while collapsing into giggles.
And then there was the time where she was four and he was home with the flu, in which case he just rolled over, mumbled something nonsensical and went back to sleep.
Which was what he did in the present.
Sayu knelt over the bed, poking her brother. 'Onii-san?' she said loudly. 'You're going to be late for school if you don't wake up.'
Which wouldn't be exactly bad for him. She couldn't remember him ever missing an attendance day. But of course, if she didn't get her brother up (or vice versa in most cases), their mother would be coming up the stairs with her spoon and frying pan.
Raito wriggled a little, and Sayu wished she had brought her camera so she could video tape. Although her brother could so easily erase all existence of such a record, half the fun was gone. And she couldn't keep a secret to save her life, so he was bound to know. Still, it wasn't often she got to see her brother looking defenceless and…well, cute, however every person's mask was stripped away in deep sleep to reveal the innocent child they all stemmed from deep down.
She smiled, then decided she could sneak in an extra five minutes, returning to the bathroom to fix her hair, yelling the excuse down to her mother.
But she got the same response when trying again, and this time she was a little worried because Raito hadn't gotten sick in a long time.
Sachiko sighed when no-one came downstairs; Soichiro was still at the office, so there was no-one in their bedroom, however both her children had school and should have been up. She heard the taps go on upstairs, so at least one of the two was awake, but it had been ten minutes and neither face presented themselves to her omelettes.
She yelled up to the two, and Sayu's voice yelled back down. She sighed, shaking her head. Sometimes that girl spent too much time trying to fix her hair.
Admittedly, sometimes Raito did as well, but that was typically when he had nothing else to do. Although he did spend an inordinate amount of time, for a boy, preening his appearance.
Still, it didn't hurt…unless they were both running late.
'Just hurry it up!' she cautioned.
Another five minutes passed, before Sayu hurried down, bag haphazardly packed and flying behind her. 'Onii-san's still sleeping,' she said, a little breathlessly, before blinking as the upstairs taps went on again. 'Oh, I guess not.' She laughed. 'I guess he didn't want to get out of bed.'
'Yes, we all have our days,' Sachiko agreed, hurrying her daughter to the table and the prepared breakfast. 'Now hurry up or you're going to be late.'
'I still have time.' Sayu's voice was a little muffled by the omelette she had put in her mouth.
'Yes, but I need you to take your father's breakfast and lunch to him.'
'Aww,' she complained. 'Then I'll have to run. Can't Onii-san?'
'He'll probably have to run anyway,' her mother pointed out. 'And if you remember, he took the dinner yesterday.'
'Yeah, yeah,' she mumbled, eating quickly. In truth, the only bit she minded was the running part; no real lady liked to run after all. It was more entertaining to add a little spice to the hurried sounds upstairs.
Though it was unlike him to be running so late, and Sachiko pointed that out as she fixed his collar and smoothed his hair…not that they really needed fixing, but it was a simple habit she liked to entertain, even with her children grown up.
Sayu took the opportunity to sneak in a tease…and lighten the mood, seeing as her brother looked the slightest bit annoyed at the pampering. 'You stayed up late,' she sung. 'Naughty naughty.'
'Yes Sayu,' the other sighed, and Sachiko accepted the reason. Still, she had an eye on her son's back as it vanished out the door. As a mother, she had natural instincts about certain things, and she didn't think the weather was the cause of Raito's break in his usual tradition.
Maybe he was coming to the teenage rebellion stage, she mused to herself, busying herself in packing her husband's meal. The timing was a little bad, considering how close the Nationals were, and they did define a person's career to a large extent – or at the very least, what sort of courses and universities were open to them. At the same time though, it was far from her to discourage such behaviour, so long as he stayed within the limits that were clearly outlined to him: no drugs, no dangerous driving etc.
If he was sick, he knew better than to hide it. After all, that was one thing their family shared in common; impatience. And no Yagami liked lying in bed warding off an illness that could have been mended far sooner with a few tablets.
Either way, it was a little worrying from a mother's perspective, and so she made a mental note to keep a close eye on him…and another to remind herself to ask Sayu about the math test she was going to sit later that day.
The third was to call the NPA later and ask when her husband planned to stop home…and see if she could wheedle him into taking a few days vacation once the case was over. Not only was it unhealthy to be in the office for consecutive days and nights, but it was lonely without her husband around.
Raito mentally berated himself as he hurried to school. He couldn't believe he had managed to sleep in. A small voice at the back of his head chided him, telling him he should have heeded his mother's advice. They knew best after all.
Except when it came to his studies, he argued back. He wasn't where he was today by being babied by his mother.
'But,' the other voice pointed out. 'Where exactly are you? Good grades, good looks, good reception. But so what? What are you going to do with all of that? Take over the world?'
Raito snorted. Unlikely; that would only come remotely close if he was in a position of relative power: politics or the police force, and both had their hands tied to an extent. Beyond that, politics, while being a battle of wits, was riddled with lies and deceit and didn't sit particularly well with him…although if he had to be completely honest with himself, he did lie when it suited him, or out of habit for certain things.
Like not being tired, because he was, and undeniably so.
In terms of career choices though, that only left police work, and it was a terrible waste if his grades got him into the best university in Tokyo…which was what he was setting himself up for.
'But why?' the cheeky little voice at the back in his head asked. 'What are you planning on doing with the best degree in the best university in Japan?'
He had no answer to that, because he often wondered the same thing. He didn't need straight As to be on the police force like his father. Take Matsuda for example; he had to wonder what academy the young man had graduated from, and what the NPA had been thinking, giving him a license. He'd met the man, and he was reminded more of a janitor than a police officer.
'Then why do it?' the voice asked.
'I want to,' he growled allowed.
'Apparently not very much, as you're late.'
And Raito looked at his watch, cursed when he realised that infernal voice was correct, and broke into a sprint. It was useless though as the bell had already gone, and therefore he was forced to accept the little yellow slip signing his first ever detention.
