Finally, I'm back! I'm sorry about the prolonged hiatus, but since life's calmed down, I'll be able to keep this story going!

Without further ado, it's time to continue!

Morning light shone on the closed curtains, illuminating them with a warm, angelic glow despite the room around it holding a dark and stagnant atmosphere. It was as if paradise was just beyond the curtains that blocked entry, a door that was slightly ajar yet could never be fully opened. All of the happiness and warmth from the outside was banished from the shaded depths of the room, never allowed to enter by the creatures of the night lurking within.

Yet Destirome wasn't a monster of the dark. She woke from her slumber sprawled across the couch, rubbing her ice blue eyes awake as she felt around on the wooden table for her glasses before she stumbled half-asleep towards the curtains, believing a bit of sunlight would wake her. As porcelain hands pulled them back, earning a grumble from their owner as she shielded her eyes, another disapproving noise sounded behind her, causing her to turn and gape at the sight.

L… was eating normal food?

Sure enough, the raven-haired man sat in his typical chair in front of the screens that were showing the still-sleeping figures of their captives, eating a granola bar cautiously and visibly cringing at it. The chocolate chips inside it must have helped with the taste to him, but still he pouted and dramatically made faces as if it was the worst form of torture he could ever possibly endure, and she was pretty sure he wanted her to know it.

A smile bloomed on her face like spring flowers as she walked over to him, wondering if she was dreaming. She hadn't even had to wrestle him to the ground and force it down his throat. He was legitimately eating somewhat healthier food without her pestering. Did he do it just because he didn't want to make her worry about his health as much, a sort of welcome back gift or even an "I don't have a problem because I can choose not to eat sweets" declaration? Or did he expect that she was going to force him to anyway and he saved them both the trouble? He had dealt with it for years, after all.

Without a word, she squished his face in her hands, gently slapping his cheeks with alternating hands as she stared intently at him, his wide panda eyes the essence of confusion.

"Uh… Destirome?" His voice was muffled by her hands against his cheeks and the bits of granola bar still in his mouth.

"Who are you, and what have you done with L?" Her gentle voice asked bluntly. L stared back cheekily, a ghost of a smile lighting up his features as much as the morning sun did.

"I think after at least a decade of knowing you, I should know it's pointless to ever eat anything I want to."

"Hey, I'm not that awful, am I?" She laughed, though genuine concern flashed in her eyes. "Geez, it's not like it's too different, it still has chocolate in it! You really need to eat healthier. Besides, you know I can eat just as much junk as you do."

"I think your definition of junk and mine are in opposition," He finished the last bite of the granola bar with dramatic disgust before looking up at Destirome, lips pursed. "There, are you happy?"

"Quite." Pale pink lips curved up in a gentle smile before pressing together disapprovingly as L promptly reached over for a piece of cake on the table, seemingly wishing with every fiber of his being to rid the taste of non-sweets out of his mouth as soon as possible. A loud sigh escaped her mouth as ice blue eyes trailed away from his hopeless case, freezing when they fell on the image of Misa on the screen as a thought popped into her head.

Misa had a Shinigami. Destirome never really talked to any besides her father. Maybe this was a way to find answers, at last. It was the only lead she had—it wasn't like she could figure things out on her own very well, and Light wasn't blindfolded, so he could easily see her if she went searching for his Shinigami near him. If he saw her and figured out that she knew about Shinigami, she would become his next target and he would stop at nothing to find her real name after failing to kill her with her alias. If she could even be killed with a Death Note, anyway; she would take every precaution to not find out.

With Misa's Shinigami, though, she could hopefully figure out both of the Kira's intentions and what their next moves were without being seen, and she could maybe even learn a bit more about the Shinigami existence and what the King was going to do about her half-Shinigami life. Provided the Shinigami would cooperate and talk to her, that is. Or if she could even talk to or see other Shinigami besides her father.

It was a very small chance that everything would work out, but what else could she do? Only she knew the true lead, the true hidden knife in the boot. The blood of the innocent threatened to drown her with every swing of the clock's pendulum. Even though they were criminals, to have this sort of death? Whatever some twisted person wished? Every moment L didn't know about the Shinigami was another moment where people were in danger.

"Well, as for me, I'm a bit tired of eating sweets, it's making my teeth hurt." Her strangely contorted face mimicked L's moments ago, but he paid it no attention. "I'm going to go out to eat, okay? I'll be back later." She began towards the door, waving a farewell over her shoulder as she walked with her usual pointed toes.

"Wait." A relatively deep voice made her turn to see dark eyes, surprisingly showing a hint of concern. "Don't let anyone know your real name and don't let them know you're working on this case."

A scoff was tossed over a pale shoulder as Destirome turned back around. "Please, L. Don't talk to me as if this is the first time I've worked with you." Ice blue trailed to his hunched figure again, a small, reassuring smile brightening her porcelain face. "I'll be fine." And with that, she left.

Not to eat, though, at least not yet despite the fact that she was a bit hungry. No, she had to find the room where Misa was—where her Shinigami was. As much as she hated to partially lie to L, she had to. He was far too brilliant, and would obviously be suspicious despite his trust in her if she had approached him with 'Oh, hey, L. Where is Misa being held at? Why? Oh, no reason. I just want to learn more about a secret I've been keeping from you, is all. No big deal.' There was no lie she could think of that would completely drop any suspicion he would have if she had asked where Misa was. Therefore, this was something she would have to find alone.

The task was a bit more daunting then she thought—Misa had to be close, and from the looks of it, Watari was with her. There were many floors and many doors, and even worse, an entire giant city outside if L decided to keep her distant from their location instead. There had to be something that would indicate precaution, a sense that she shouldn't be there, yet it couldn't be as obvious as locks and cameras. Maybe there was a sort of subtle mark on the door, or a code, or—

Wait, would he?

Her pointed feet carried her pale figure across carpeted halls as ice blue scanned the numbers, counting in her mind. 1211, 1212, 1213….

A small figure stopped at a wooden door labeled 1214, slightly faded oak showing no difference from any of the other doors, yet a feeling of difference leapt in a pounding heart. To its right was a maintenance room, which wasn't out of the ordinary considering she had passed by several of the iron doors on her way there.

1214. December 14th. The code she and L always used to indicate a message of importance. The date she had always claimed as their friendship anniversary and that he reluctantly went along with despite his protests of how pointless it seemed and how suggestive it sounded. Would he really still use their number, after all this time?

The room Misa was in hadn't looked like a typical room. It had to be the maintenance room. As a porcelain hand reached for the doorknob, it faltered.

What would she do—what could she do? If Watari was there, if the Shinigami had left, if Misa had been unblinded—

The door opened and made a dull 'thud' as it collided with her forehead, causing her to stumble back and fall on the ground in front of a stunned Watari.

"Destirome?" The old gentleman wondered, blinking in surprise as he stooped to check the bruise forming on her reddened and now slightly purpling skin.

"Hey, Tari. Long time no see." Destirome waved, blinking as her eyes tried to focus. "Well, if I could see straight, anyway."

"I sincerely apologize for that, I had no idea anyone was there." He took her hand and helped her to stand and to steady herself, still careful with her as if she were a glass figurine child. "You've been in your university for such a long time—how is the progress towards your doctorate degree coming along? And what brings you here, isn't your semester going to start soon?"

"It's okay, no need to apologize, better me than the glasses." She smiled warmly, yet the worried wrinkles in his face only smoothed slightly. "My studies are going great. I'm here because I'm helping with the Kira case now; I've applied to study abroad here for the time being, but my classes don't start until next week. And I'm here in this place right now because I wanted to come and say hi since it's been so long. I saw you on the surveillance screen and I was going out for breakfast so I figured I'd stop by, but I forgot to ask L where you were before I left so I guessed by remembering the code we used to use, so that's why you didn't get any notice that I was coming." It was still partially true, and it was still partially killing her to lie to yet another man that was important in her life. "May I come in? I want to keep you company for a while before I go get something for breakfast. It seems pretty boring being here all day."

"By all means," He guided her into the room, arms ready to catch her if she stumbled as she regained her clear eyesight, her eyes locking onto a feminine figure crudely restrained and skimming over a creepy table of who knows what before they kept searching the dim and gray area. Where was her Shinigami? She could almost feel it was there, but where was it?

"So what were you leaving the room for anyway, Watari?" Destirome questioned, still nonchalantly looking around in hopes of finally seeing a full-fledged Shinigami.

"Ah, I just needed to get a few more materials. Actually, you came at a good time—I don't quite want to leave her alone for very long. I was about to take the opportunity since she was sleeping, but it'd be best to be safe. Could you keep watch over her for a few moments?"

"Of course."

She couldn't have asked for a better chance. Watari trusted her, and as much as she hated to use it to her advantage, she needed to. The elderly man smiled and closed the door behind him, a dull sound like a gunshot without any will or vigor, slowed in time and dampened in intensity before it dies out insignificantly. For a few moments, Destirome waited, hearing the faint sound of dress shoes fade into nothing before her barely audible footsteps ghosted across the room. She approached the camera and promptly turned it off, ignoring L's immediate alertness to the situation over the intercom.

Honestly, she didn't know what she was doing or how to progress.

"I know you're in here, Shinigami." Destirome spoke aloud, dark and commanding, not worried about waking the still-sleeping blonde beauty queen as she wasn't even stirring at L's voice over the intercom, continuously asking about the camera and for Watari to answer. "And I'm sure you can see what I am too. So come out and talk a bit."

"You're an abomination." A dull yet vaguely female voice resonated from a corner of the room. The Shinigami was female, and she was there, yet Destirome couldn't see her. It was just like with her father—since she had never touched his Death Note when he was alive, all she heard was his voice.

"Actually, I'm Rome." Venom laced a harsh voice as her ice blue eyes burned holes into the corner of the wall. "And you are?"

"I don't understand how you even exist, half-Shinigami." Her tone held perpetual boredom and a hint of disgust as she ignored Destirome's question.

"Doesn't matter. Look, I know all about the Kiras and I have all of the evidence needed to execute them both right now. All of your fun could be over that easy, so why not humor me and answer some of my questions in return for the continuation of your entertainment?" All bravado and lies, hope tying strings in a rope net, wishing to ensnare.

A flash of what seemed like concern shot through the air, emanating from where Rem was for a split moment before she seemed to gain composure. "I do not have to answer to the likes of you if I do not wish to."

Uncertainty. She could almost feel it ghost across her skin. That meant Destirome had the upper hand. "I could end Kira once and for all with a simple tip of the hat, so you might wish to. So, let's start simple. How do you get to the Shinigami Realm?"

"Do you have a death wish, half-breed?" Rem held a slight bit of bewilderment in her typical blank stare, though Destirome couldn't perceive the vision. "Clearly you do not know much at all. We full-fledged Shinigami use our wings to fly to the portal above the clouds which only our eyes can see. In your case, however, do not be surprised if the Shinigami King kills you as soon as you arrive. It is a wonder why he has not done so already."

"Humans can't use the lifespan of humans they kill with the Death Note, right? So what happens to that unused lifespan?"

"Even I do not know. Why would this be important to you?" There was truth in her words. It wasn't quite something Destirome needed to know, but it had been a question that she was curious about for quite some time, just for knowledge's sake.

"Why does Kira do what he does?"

Silence.

"Why does this Kira do what she does, then?" Destirome motioned to Misa, still sleeping, yet stirring slightly. She would wake soon.

Silence again. She was losing cooperation fast.

"Why protect them? They mean nothing to you, don't they? I could kill them with my own hands and you wouldn't lose a thing, besides the added lifespan, which you could easily get elsewhere." She said darkly, her normally gentle voice more menacing than the shadowed corner where Rem stood. A bluff. The Shinigami lifespan had been details remembered from her father's note, but her threat was a simple bait she hoped the Shinigami would take.

"If you touch Misa or Light, I will not hesitate to write your name in my own Death Note, Destirome DeCrez." Her voice was suddenly filled with a hint of venom, an abrupt and sort of scary change from the previous monotone.

The half-human's mouth gaped a bit before regaining her composure. Was she serious? "Crazy demon." She spat, trying to shrug off the threat.

"Worthless mutant." Rem retorted, the dim light of the corner making the words sound all the more menacing.

She clearly wasn't going to reveal anything that would be a potential weakness, though her almost care for the humans might be something she could work with…

"Watari, answer me. Why is the camera off?"

L's urgent voice snapped Destirome out of her thoughts. Great, how was she going to explain this mess? Her desire for answers had overpowered her better judgement. Sighing, she flipped the camera back on and went over to press the button to answer.

"L, it's Rome. Don't—" She warned, hearing him about to bombard her with questions. "I wanted to see Watari so I found this room by our usual ways, and the camera thing was an experiment that I will explain once I get back to you. Watari left to get supplies and entrusted me with the room; I don't want him not trusting me so please don't say a word about this to him or else I won't tell you what I was doing." Bargaining with knowledge was always his weakness, though it was a steep mountain of slippery mud that she kept sliding down. Now she had to have a legitimate reason to tell him. Reluctantly, he agreed, and the speaker fell silent as he most likely went on to ponder her reasons.

An iron door screeching open made the blood red-haired girl jump, running over to hastily turn the camera back on and whirling around with wide ice blue eyes to see Watari entering, a suspicious black bag in his hands.

"Thank you again for staying here, Destirome." He smiled, the wrinkles in his face deepening.

"It was no trouble." She smiled back, white teeth flashing in the dim light. "It was really nice seeing you again, but I should get back to helping L, and to get some breakfast like I had intended to. I'm sorry I can't stay longer, but I'll come visit more often, okay? I hope once this business is done here, we can see you at headquarters more often." The presence in the corner was ignored as a shaking body headed slowly for the door.

"I understand, and once this ordeal is over, I will be able to see you two more often. But Destirome, may I ask you a favor?" She turned to face the old gent, noting concern and something else she couldn't quite place in his time-worn expression. "I know I probably don't have to ask you this, but can you keep watch over L in my absence? Get him on the proper path, maybe? You know I could never say no to him like you could." He chuckled, and she smiled wider and laughed. He had always spoiled L and had always let him get everything he wanted—it was no wonder his health habits were so poor.

"Not a problem, Tari. I got him to eat a granola bar this morning without even saying anything to him." The memory brought on a triumphant smirk, brighter than the sunlight she was beginning to miss in this empty, dank room. Watari had always appreciated her stubborn handling of L; while the two younger detectives butted heads a lot, she typically came out on top, and though L muttered darkly about her in his defeat, he seemed strangely grateful and almost as if he had wanted her to do something about his habits. Maybe he just liked testing her because he liked to see her always care for him, a fond feeling he had never gotten in the orphanage. Her porcelain hand tugged on the door, hearing Misa yawn and begin to wake as she turned away.

"He really did miss you while you were gone."

Hah, that busybody, missing her? That was a sight to imagine. "I missed you guys too. I'll see you later." And with that, the iron door's close echoed down the white-washed hall.

Destirome came back into the dark, screen-lit room and waved a greeting to L and everyone else as she munched on a bite of a cinnamon-apple muffin she had gotten at a nearby bakery, yet her stomach churned with worry. Keeping up the façade of normality in the face of her just-arrived coworkers made her movements slightly rigid, wishing they hadn't been there before she had gotten to explain herself to L first as she sat next to said man on the striped sofa, glancing at the screen before she assessed his appearance.

The dark circles under his eyes appeared a bit lighter, a slight bit of healthy color tinging his fair skin. His hair was typically messy, as were his lazy clothes, but he seemed more focused, healthier, and she was glad for the tiny yet noticeable improvement. Sleep really could do wonders for him, if only he allowed it to. However, his eyes held a cloud of questions and a small hint of worry.

"Anything happen when I was gone? Let me guess: no?" Ice warned him as she glanced at their coworkers indicatively, prompting him to look as well before returning to her intense eyes. Unspoken communication crossed the air between them. Questions and almost suspicion from him, and warning and pleading from her. Not here, in front of people who barely knew her and had barely begun to trust her. It would be bad to talk about what happened as they would immediately become suspicious of her behavior no matter what she said. Trust was something they all needed on so delicate of a case.

He understood, though; his black hair waved side to side slightly as he shook his head to dismiss her worry, as she noted a small bit of disappointment in his lips' curve.

"How do you think Kira operates, Rome?" He asked with a sigh, the sudden question causing her to pause and stare at him for a moment, unsure how to respond.

She took another good look at him, trying to read his expression. Black eyes held hints of confusion yet clarity in place of the previous questions. Something was trying to click in his brilliant mind, yet it was as if the cogs and gears were blocked by a single pebble lodged in the system.

"Well," The careful girl began, "what are your theories so far?"

The curious man sat in his peculiar way, nibbling on the end of his thumb thoughtfully. "Honestly, it's hard to theorize anything without sounding completely farfetched, but what choice do we have? Anything that seems logical or realistic is easily disproven. Kira kills with a name and face, and the other Kira with just a face. Practically nothing seems possible…" He sighed again, passively exasperated.

"I think with this case, it's safe to say we're not dealing with anything from this world." She began carefully, putting a hand gently on L's shoulder to ease his churning mind that rolled like a sailboat in a harsh storm. "I mean, one hour he kills someone here, the next hour his victim is cities away—needless to say, it's impossible for him to move so quick unless he has a network, and if he did, we would have found it by now. It's hard to keep an international serial murder network that contained and secret for very long, and you've been very thorough in making sure no stone's been left unturned."

A porcelain hand brushed the hair away from L's eyes, ice blue staring into even colder black as pale hands held his face steady, willing him to stay strong. "L, there are only these two Kiras, and you've done well in finding them out of millions of people. Don't beat yourself up just because you don't have all of the answers yet. Their abilities are far beyond anything any human could imagine, there's just too many possibilities if we really have to rely on our imagination to give us an answer. We'll figure everything out in due time, okay?" Destirome's hands dropped from his face as she faced the screen again, smiling to lighten the mood. "It's nothing to worry about right now. You can't move mountains in one day. Maybe you should start believing me more often, so you could stop worrying—it could get to the point where it'll impede your progress."

His eyes stayed on her face for a moment longer before trailing back to the screen, the tip of his thumb leaving his lips in thought. "Perhaps you may be right, but that does not change the fact that I am in charge of this investigation and therefore I must bring an end to Kira, whether his abilities are realistic or not."

"And you will find him." The resolution in her voice caused the man to rock on his feet slightly as he brought his knees closer to his chest, his eyes gently burning the screen before him. A noise of indifference left his slightly parted lips as he reached for the bowl of ice cream on the table.

They said nothing more for the next few hours, the air between them heavy and electrically charged with intensity, feeling as if their bodies were dense metal being dragged down by a magnet. It was foreign for such an atmosphere to exist between them, and it wouldn't be cleared up easily.

Destirome was vaguely aware of her coworkers' murmurs behind and beside her, but her focus was too intent on the future. She had to have a reasonable counter for every single question L could ever ask her, but her mind was so rattled she could barely string together a believable story. It felt like every word her mind wrote, it automatically erased three every time, an awful and rebellious eraser that she wished could just erase her actions instead.

How could she have been so brash? He never slipped up like she did from time to time. He always had every possible way to cover his tracks at his smooth fingertips, and he never let impulse take over. L had always been the better detective; she was always the better psychologist.

Her interest in forensic psychology always complimented his detective work in their early days of working together, a different perspective that aided in their work. Coupled with her own detective skills, she picked up for abilities and perceptions L lacked, and he did the same for her in return. They had remarkable synergy; no case was ever too hard to crack if they put their heads together.

Yet now, as she tonelessly accepted L's offer to take her to lunch, an obvious attempt to be alone with her to get answers, she wondered if everything was on the precipice of falling away, of shattering like a cracked mirror.

He had a slight wall now. She could feel it. A weak, thin sheet of cellophane, and just as transparent, but it was there. It hurt him just as much as it did her. Even the slightest possibility that she was hiding something bothered him, with good reason—she had always told him everything. Everything except knowledge of the Shinigami Realm, that is.

The opportunity to tell him had never even existed. She was his friend long before she had found out her father's secret. He had always found her tales of her invisible father amusing, but he had never taken it seriously. Even if she could tell him what she was, he wouldn't believe it. Yet even if he did, he wouldn't be able to trust her after. Yeah, she could tell him that she had only found out a few years ago, but still, the fact that she had hidden it for those few years remained. Whether it was all their friendship or just the past few years she had hidden it, she had hidden it all the same. She couldn't break his trust.

Yet now his life was in danger because she had kept the Shinigami secret from him. It would be so easy to find Light and Misa guilty of these murders with their Death Notes in her hands. But she was no L—she couldn't figure out a way to expose them so easily. All she could do was find their Death Notes, at the very least to take them and render them powerless.

At the very least, to keep L safe. To make up for all of the wrong she had committed in keeping this secret.

It was all she could do.