Disclaimer: Still don't own Scooby-Doo or Death Note. I'd love to, but I don't, so please don't sue, oki? I also don't own the bits of song lyrics I use... Although I wish I did own one particular song used in this chapter. You'll understand when you get to that part. XD
A/N: Thanks to all my kind readers, I haves my inspiration back! I've spent two whole days this week working on the timeline for the rest of the story. I have three pages of handwritten notes and charts devoted to this. It definitely can't be called crack now, no matter what I tell myself. I'm such a nerd, I know, but Death Note itself is so intricate, I can't help but try and live up to it!
Anyway, for those who are interested, the story as a whole will consist of about four mini-arcs. I'm still working out the kinks at the end of the third right now, but otherwise it's all planned out.. And a lot longer than you might think such a crossover would be, or than I originally thought it would be.. Just think of this as.. a Scooby-Doo movie, instead of just an episode. XP
That being said, this chapter is the last (and definitely the longest) of the first arc! That means major action and turning points await you below! Enjoy (and review)!
Chapter 4: Zoinks!
"Like, I can't believe Ryuuzaki went to Shibuya instead of coming here with us!" Shaggy exclaimed before taking another massive bite of his crepe.
"Reah," Scooby agreed, licking a bit of whipped cream from his mouth, "Roo's rissing out!"
"Ryuuzaki never goes out anywhere," Light reasoned, striding a few paces behind the others. A bored look crossed his face as they passed yet another group of girls in Gothic Lolita attire. "He probably knows nothing about the types of food they have here."
"Guess not," Shaggy decided, looking forlornly at the now empty paper wrapper. "If he knew there were all these places selling crepes filled with, like, strawberries and cheesecake and stuff, man, he'd practically live here!"
"Maybe when we're done here, I should pick up a few for him," Matsuda mumbled, idly kicking a pebble off the sidewalk, "since bringing him coffee and snacks seems to be all I'm good for."
"Like, what's that about, man?" Shaggy asked, tossing the paper wrapper into a nearby waste bin.
"I don't know," the young detective sighed, still speaking softly. "I'm not an idiot, you know, but the rest of the task force certainly makes me feel like one sometimes. They're all older and more experienced than me. Then there's Ryuuzaki, and even Light – they're geniuses!" He looked briefly over his shoulder to make sure the teen hadn't heard his comment. Thankfully, he was still staring off into space, probably lost in calculations or something. "Just working around so many people that are smarter than me, it makes me nervous, and I get clumsy. Then that just makes all of them think even less of me..."
"Don't worry, man!" the scruffy brunette grinned, patting Matsuda lightly on the back. "Scoob an' me are the biggest screw-ups around, but that doesn't make us any less valuable to Mystery Inc. You just gotta, like, find what you're good at." Matsuda brushed a tuft of black hair from his eyes and smiled up at the lanky teen. Much like himself, he decided, Shaggy was a lot more capable than he was given credit for.
Pi pi pi!
Shaggy, Scooby, and Matsuda stopped in their tracks, turning to Light, who had fallen several feet behind them by now, but whose loudly beeping cell phone could be heard quite clearly nonetheless.
Pi pi pi!
Light fished the device from his trouser pocket and flipped it open, silencing the ringer without answering. He continued walking until he was close enough to talk to the others.
"It's my girlfriend, Misa," he explained quickly, bringing the phone to his ear. The others nodded in understanding, and all four stepped into a small alleyway to allow the other pedestrians on the busy sidewalk to pass them. Before Light could say a word, they heard the squealing female voice on the other end, though not clearly enough to make out the words.
"Yes, I'm sorry," Light was saying. "I know... No... We're on a field mission, Misa. If I was out early I would be spending my time with you, don't you think?" The others watched curiously, though trying not to look like they were eavesdropping, as Light donned an amused, but somehow sneaky, smirk.
"Of course I would, Misa... Yes, we'll probably be here for an hour or so, then it's back to the office... Yes... Yes. I'll talk to you later... Bye." He snapped the phone shut, looking bored again.
"Sorry about that, guys. I forgot to call her last night, what with moving to headquarters and everything else," he explained, suddenly acting very friendly and smiling. Shaggy silently wondered if this friendly act had anything to do with the call, or if he was just trying to make up for his behavior in the Mystery Machine earlier. Matsuda, however, was just happy that the young man was making a seeming effort to bond with his teammates.
"You didn't say anything about having a girlfriend before, Yagami-kun!" he gushed, grinning widely. "So is she cute?"
"Matsuda-san," Light said, his tone slightly less friendly as he emphasized the -san. "We do have a job here, we need to keep our eyes open and keep moving." He led the way back onto the sidewalk, the others following quietly.
After a few moments of silence, Matsuda still hadn't caught the hint.
"You know, you never talk about yourself, Yagami-kun," he finally continued, looking somewhat thoughtful despite the persistent grin. "I mean, I know you and Ryuuzaki hang out together at the university, but you don't act much like friends. It's gotta be tough not having friends you can confide in, especially when you're involved in such a stressful case!"
"You seem to be the one fishing for friends, Matsuda-san," Light quipped, walking on ahead of the rest this time. Matsuda's social giddiness crushed, he frowned and fell back into silence alongside Shaggy and Scooby.
The group continued down the sidewalk, with even the two Tokyo natives taking great notice of the many hordes of cosplayers and the scattered street performers. Shaggy and Scooby felt like they were walking through an outdoor convention – all around were strange costumes, bright wigs, leather, chains, Halloween makeup, and more elaborate uses of hair gel than either of them had ever seen in one place before, all adorning teenage Japanese girls.
Or, at least, they thought they were girls. Several of them, when seen up close, turned out to be male. They had very goodcostumes. The two friends had worn more crazy costumes than they cared to count, and yes, they had cross-dressed on several occasions, all for the sake of distracting some monster, throwing someone off their trail, or carrying out one of Fred's elaborate traps. But never, never, had Shaggy and Scooby looked so convincing...
As they neared the end of the street, they could hear someone talking over a loudspeaker. Turning the corner to continue their circular trek around Harajuku, they saw a large van, much bigger than the Mystery Machine, parked near the center of a pedestrian bridge, a radio station logo painted on the side and a large satellite dish sitting atop it.
"We're broadcasting live from Harajuku, and our monster contest is just about to start, so if you want to compete, better get here quick!" the deejay was saying over the eerie instrumental beginnings of a Malice Mizer song.
"Monster contest..?" Shaggy mumbled, shaking slightly with premature fear.
"Sheesh," Matsuda commented, "after what happened in Aoyama, I think I'd cancel any outdoor events like this."
"These people know nothing about Kira," Light declared. "They aren't necessarily expecting a repeat of yesterday's attack, as we are; and even so, most wouldn't think to predict what sort of area it might be repeated in."
"I guess you're right," Matsuda muttered, watching the animated movements of the enthusiastic deejay.
"Come on down in your best monster costume, we'll be here all afternoon, playing your favorite spooky hits!" the deejay exclaimed just before the first verse of the song started, swinging his arms about as if the radio listeners could see.
"Like, I got a really bad feeling about this," Shaggy whined, positively shaking with fear now.
"Reah, re roo," said Scooby, whimpering at his master's side.
"They are sort of asking for it, aren't they?" Matsuda said dejectedly, fingering the rubber mask hidden under his shirt. The group walked with a bit more purpose now as they made their way past several shops toward the bridge.
Pi pi!
"Again?" Light complained, pulling the phone from his pocket. He looked over his shoulder at his teammates with a sheepish grin. "She's so clingy, she really drives me crazy sometimes!" He flipped open the phone; it was a text message this time, apparently. He quickly texted something back before putting the phone away.
As they were almost to the bridge, before the doors of the very last shop on the block, Light stopped and turned to face the others again.
"I hate to ask, but I need to use the restroom. Would you care to wait out here for me?"
Matsuda and Shaggy looked at each other, the doubts of each mirrored in the other. Matsuda leaned toward the taller man, covering his mouth in attempt to keep Light from hearing, though his question was surely obvious to the boy anyway.
"Should we let him go alone?" Matsuda whispered. "He's a suspect, after all."
"Like, I don't wanna stay out here by myself!" Shaggy whimpered.
"Re reither!" Scooby hurriedly agreed.
"Well there's no way I'm staying out here alone!" Matsuda hissed. He huffed and crossed his arms in frustration. Light stood patiently by.
"Fine!" Matsuda said suddenly, standing decisively tall. "Go ahead, Yagami-kun. We'll wait out here for you."
"Thanks," Light replied, hurrying into the store. Shaggy and Scooby looked at Matsuda, not bothering to even ask the obvious.
"What trouble can he really get into in a little shop? If he does anything, they should have security cameras in there," Matsuda reasoned, doubt creeping back into his voice again. "Besides, we can't leave our post, right?"
"Right," Shaggy said, voice trembling just a little as he leaned against the brick wall of the shop, trying to look calm. Scooby joined him, while Matsuda just paced in front of them.
"All right, folks," the deejay exclaimed as the song ended, "our monster costume contest is now under way!" The detectives watched anxiously as a horde of colorful, furry, and scaly monsters lined up around the radio van. This could be a real problem – they didn't even have a solid description of what the shinigami in Aoyama had looked like, and now all these people in monster costumes were gathering about. This did not bode well at all. Shaggy and Scooby were already shaking again; they knew how these situations worked. Murphy's Law was always in full effect wherever they went; they were always the ones who ended up finding the monsters first. Even supported by the wall, their muscles were tensed and ready to run at any moment.
"Ah, it seems we have a last-minute entry!" the deejay was saying as he got to the end of the line of monsters. All three were seized by apprehension, and reluctantly looked over the other monsters' heads to see the newcomer. They didn't have to look for very long – the black silhouette towered over the others by at least a foot and a half, but more than that, it had wings...
Huge wings, almost bat-like in shape, covered in feathers, or perhaps fur – from this distance they couldn't tell exactly – stuck out of the black creature's back. And they were moving.
It had to be...
"Oh, man," Shaggy whimpered, "I knew this was gonna happen..."
Shaggy, however, could do nothing about it. As he knew it would, the shinigami rose into the air, the people around at first ooh-ing and awe-ing, then screaming and running as realization finally hit. Waiting for just a fraction of a second, long enough for Scooby and Matsuda to realize what was happening, he ran.
He was scared out of his wits, of course, but no one could say that Shaggy had been caught unawares.
Both Scooby and Matsuda yelped before taking off down the sidewalk behind Shaggy. The three of them blended in with the panicked crowd for half a block, the monster flying behind them, chasing the crowd, with several people falling behind the rest and collapsing along the way. Finally seeing an opening, the detectives quickly dove into an alley. Pressed up against the back side of a dumpster, they worked to catch their breath, hoping, despite the goal of their mission today, that they'd lost the shinigami. Matsuda started to wipe his brow on the sleeve of his blue suit jacket, then seemed to think better of it.
"Either of you guys have a handkerchief, perchance?" he huffed, still breathing heavily from the run. A rag was dangled in front of his face. He took it without a word, gratefully wiping the sweat from his face.
"That's better, thanks," he said at last, his breathing slowing down to normal pace again. Shaggy and Scooby stared at him, wide-eyed.
"Like, who are you th-th-thanking?" Shaggy stammered.
For a moment, the two men stared at each other, Scooby whimpering beside them, a low, hissing breath sounding from above. Slowly, very slowly, they both looked up. Huge yellow eyes stared laughingly down at them as a clownish grin spread across the creature's face – wide blue lips baring nothing but pointed teeth, looking completely amused. Its skin was tinted a sickly blue beneath a head of wild black hair, its neck stitched like patchwork to the its black body; more of the fuzzy feathers adorned its bony shoulders. The bumbling detectives began to tremble with fear all over again.
"Zoinks!"
"It is really quite simple," L mumbled over a spoonful of ice cream. "If the shinigami should appear in Harajuku, it either is or is not Light in costume."
"And you couldn't have conducted this little experiment in our group – or better yet, with everyone present as witnesses?" Velma demanded, glaring daggers at her eccentric fellow detective as she sipped the last of her soda.
"He would never take such a risk around me," L reasoned, picking one of the many cherries from his sundae and nonchalantly popping it into his mouth.
"But he'd risk it with the others?" Daphne chimed in from behind. She and Fred were still finishing their lunches as they walked, and so had fallen slightly behind their companions. L calmly plucked the cherry stem from between his lips before answering.
"Light is intelligent enough to see that there is opportunity within that group. If he is Kira, or at least the person acting as Kira in the shinigami costume, he will find a way to separate himself from them without arousing their suspicion." L swirled his spoon around the foam bowl, scooping up a bite of nothing but chocolate syrup. His innocent facade changed to bliss for a moment as he downed the sweet goo.
"So, basically, you're counting on Shaggy and Scooby's incompetence," Velma huffed. "Weren't you the one scolding Light for insulting Scooby just a short while ago?"
"That's precisely the point, Velma," L said seriously, setting the spoon down in the bowl. "Light perceives them to be incompetent, and that goes for Matsuda as well. I'm counting on him to underestimate them and therefore put himself at risk to be caught. If nothing else, the shinigami appearing while the prime suspect is out of sight will provide circumstantial evidence."
"Fine, I understand," Velma conceded, glancing about for a place to dispose of her empty cup.
L returned to his treat, taking advantage of the temporary silence to revel in the sweet confection. It was the first solid supply of sugar he'd eaten since that morning, and, though no cure-all by any means, it was certainly taking the edge off the anxiety that had been plaguing him since they'd left headquarters. He let another cold spoonful melt on his tongue; it was soothing in a basic, carnal way, but there was no physical pleasure that could ever stop his restless mind completely.
L was thankful, however, to find that the sweet had managed to silence one or two of the many trains of thought that constantly chugged away in his head. The risk of brain-freeze was well worth it if it saved him the headache of all those hurried thoughts. He could handle the running percentages, the streaming data, the constant tweaks to his plans and theories, and everything else to do with the Kira case, but today there were foreign thoughts plaguing him.
Velma watched L out of the corner of her eye, still fidgeting with the cup in her hand, unable to find a waste bin anywhere amongst the wall of multi-story department stores, billboards, and televisions that lined the street. The brilliant insomniac ate his ice cream without a care in the world, it seemed, and though she knew better, it still bothered her to no end. Perhaps L had never been as innocent as the oblivious look on his face tried to convey, but he'd never before seemed so cold and unfeeling. Had he really changed so much in three years, while she still felt exactly the same?
Hadn't L been her friend, once? Or had it all been wishful thinking? Sure, she could never read him completely, no matter how well she thought she knew him back then, but she did know that he hadn't been nearly this cynical. He had hidden them well, as now, but he did have feelings when they were young, she knew he did. He'd held onto some bits of normalcy, too – as anti-social and quiet as he was, constantly coddled by Roger and the teachers, brought up being daily told what a genius he was – despite everything, on some level, he'd been a normal boy.
He'd once confided in her that he was afraid of the dark. She'd just smiled at him, even though back then she never smiled at anything out of embarrassment over her braces. He had been confused, to be sure, but he'd smiled back, just a little. She'd discovered then that the mussy-haired boy at the head of the class was human after all; she remembered how special she'd felt, knowing she was the only one that he entrusted with the knowledge of his humanity.
She didn't know much about what L had done since they'd last worked together. She had heard at one point that he had gotten involved in a serial murder case in Los Angeles, but never the details of it. Even as a trusted contact of L and graduate of Wammy's House, she was far from the loop. In fact, she pondered, there probably was no loop to begin with; anything to do with L was on a strict need-to-know basis. Therefore, she couldn't be sure of everything to do with Kira either. Mystery Inc. only knew what L had told them outright; who knew what details he might have omitted? He never was one for telling unnecessary truths, after all.
Maybe it was just the subject matter alone that had affected his attitude – in the time since their last meeting, his biggest cases both had to do with murder, while she and her friends hadn't budged from their usual pattern of minor cases. Ironically, the paranormal rarely had anything to do with death; murder was direct, passionate, and angry. Even ritualistic killers didn't stray too far from this rule, and until now, she had been sure that a murderer would never don a monster costume, stooping to the basic scare tactics reserved for smugglers, thieves, and people generally up to no good.
Had murder stripped away what little innocence the young man had left? Had it jaded him so much to the idea of death that he no longer thought twice about risking innocent lives, and even his own, just to stubbornly prove his point?
Not really caring now whether he noticed, since he himself had a habit of unabashedly staring at people, Velma studied his pallid face for the second time that day. She'd been wrong that morning; he'd changed much more than simple sleep deprivation could account for. A moment ago she'd been angry with him for knowingly putting her friends in danger, but it had faded away now, and she was feeling every bit as empty as L looked. She suddenly found it hard to believe that face, worn and tired and, yes, empty from all it had seen, belonged to someone her own age.
Finally seeing a waste bin, Velma threw away the styrofoam cup, only then realizing that she'd torn off a chunk of the side while lost in though.
The question begged to be asked, but he was, despite everything, L. The ultimate authority. How could she question his methods, as inexperienced as she was by comparison?
It didn't matter; those forgotten bonds of friendship still held him in her eyes as an equal, no matter the superiority of his title; so long as they were face to face, so long as he was no longer hiding behind a letter on a screen, he wasn't L, the world's greatest detective. He was just L, the quiet boy with the baggy clothes and unkempt mop of hair and insatiable sweet tooth.
"Ryuuzaki," she said quietly, intently studying the forward progress of her own feet. She wondered briefly whether Daphne and Fred were still close enough to hear, but they seemed to be engaged in their own conversation. "Do you really think this is right? I mean, risking lives this way to catch a killer?" She gathered the courage to look up again, to meet the curious eyes now trained on her. He blinked, as if not understanding the question, though she knew that he did.
She sighed, and watched her feet again.
"Don't you think it's... hypocritical, at all?" she stammered, nervousness and frustration and anger and sadness all fighting to overtake her voice.
"Velma," he breathed, oddly quiet, even for him. "I am justice, not morality." She looked up at him again, hints of shock in her eyes, but something else as well, shining through even behind her thick glasses. L looked straight ahead, away from those eyes; something in that look deeply bothered him, but that, he reasoned, was probably just because he was unaccustomed to seeing faces he could not read.
"Justice is a means to an end. Morality only complicates those means, and makes the end that much harder to reach." He paused and stared intently down at his bowl, which held only a few cherries now. "I must do all in my power to put an end to Kira, you must agree with that. Dwelling on right and wrong will only hold me back."
"That doesn't mean..," Velma began, trailing off as she reluctantly realized that there was no winning an argument with L. As if there ever had been.
"Life is not black and white, Velma. There is no great force of good to defeat evil for us. There is only me against Kira," L said, his voice suddenly softer as he forced himself to look at her again. The growing sadness in her features disturbed him; the once satisfying ice cream now sat in a heavy lump at the pit of his stomach. She was still so innocent, wasn't she? Was that the reason he felt sick?
It was like telling a small child that Santa Claus was a fake.
To a child of Wammy's House, finding out that L was flawed must have just the same effect, he decided.
"If I must become a bit evil myself," he whispered, struggling to keep his voice from shaking, "if that is what I must do in order to defeat a much greater evil... Would you hold that against me?"
She looked him straight in the eyes, quivering brown depths beneath black frames, and all the criss-crossing trains of thought in L's mind came to a screeching halt. For perhaps the first time in his life, just one singular repetitive cry rang out in his head, over and over.
Please don't cry...
Please don't cry...
Please...
I wouldn't know what to do if you cried...
Velma turned away, staring at the ground again, which only made that thought ring louder, until he could swear his head would burst open.
Please don't cry...
Please, Velma, please don't...
"No," she whispered. "You're right, of course. I'm just being naïve, I guess..." L fought back the rather inappropriate sigh of relief that had jumped into his throat. She was talking, so she couldn't be crying. Not yet, anyway. The possibility still hung in the air, though, so L did the only thing he could think of to comfort her.
When Velma at last looked up again, she was more than surprised to find a cherry dangling in front of her face, a spot of chocolate syrup threatening to drip off the bottom. L's long fingers precariously held the very tip of the stem, leaving her the rest to grasp, so there would be no awkward touching of fingers. To anyone else, that would seem an insult, but Velma knew this tiny gesture was just L's way of being considerate. She took the invitation; as his social graces were usually all but non-existent, it would be quite rude to refuse him now.
At least, that's what she told herself the reason was.
L quickly retracted his hand, and Velma ate the cherry with a smile.
"Thanks," she said quietly. He nodded and popped two other cherries, stems included, into his mouth. Crisis averted.
Eru netsu masani desu paireetsu!
Aganau houritsu geemu...
Mind snapping back to the case, more parallel thoughts running now than ever, L plucked his cell phone from the pocket of his baggy jeans. He pressed a button and brought the device to his ear, gingerly holding it with two fingers.
"Yes, Watari?" he answered, pulling the two cherry stems, now neatly knotted together, from his mouth.
"Ryuuzaki, Matsuda has activated the distress signal."
"Re rost him!" Scooby exclaimed, tongue lolling out and panting.
"Yeah, but like, where's Matsuda?" Shaggy gasped. The two had ducked behind a food cart that had been abandoned in the frenzy. Scooby peeked over the top of the cart just as the frazzled detective ran clumsily around a corner and headed their way.
"Rere he is!" Scooby said, ducking his head back down.
"Well, like, don't just sit there, Scoob, grab him!" Shaggy told him, perching at the side edge of the cart on his hands and knees. Scooby joined him.
Matsuda huffed and puffed around another corner, but still no Shaggy and Scooby. He could have sworn they'd gone this way! He tugged at his tie. The hot rubber mask wasn't helping matters. The shinigami had fallen quite a bit behind, and Matsuda had lost his fellow scaredy-cats not long after. L was still a mystery, but at least he knew now the reason Shaggy and Scooby stayed thin despite their extreme diets. Never had he seen anyone run so fast!
And to top it off, that stupid radio van had started blaring some bouncy, happy-go-lucky tune, quite ironic in a life-or-death situation like this. A little something to replace the dead air after the deejay had run away, he assumed.
Just as Matsuda was starting to wonder how much farther he could stand to run, two lanky white arms and two suspiciously large and furry brown ones grabbed him and pulled him down.
"Meep!" he squeaked, collapsing on the ground behind the food stand.
"Did you shake off the shinigami, man?" Shaggy asked as Matsuda peeled off his mask. Shaggy's own mask sat atop his head, and Scooby, of course, didn't have one to begin with. Kira only targeted humans, after all.
"I think so," Matsuda panted, straightening his wind-swept suit jacket.
"Like, in that case, let's refuel!" Shaggy suggested, pulling open a small door on the side of the food cart to reveal a stash of American-style hot dogs on buns. He offered one to Matsuda before joining his canine friend in a quick feast.
Matsuda ate the hot dog quickly; the run really had made him hungry, but he supposed he hadn't burned up nearly as much energy as the two veritable road-runners beside him.
Come on baby, let's take my car
To the place where dreams come true!
"Didn't the deejay say they were playing just Halloween-themed music today?" Matsuda grumbled.
"Reah," Scooby quickly agreed, closing his eyes in bliss and opening his mouth wide to take a bite of his latest hot dog, piled high with relish, sauerkraut, and every other condiment to be found in the cart. He bit down, only to crash his teeth together on nothing but air.
It's a mile off the interstate
And if you wanna dance, well, that's there too!
"Hyuk hyuk hyuk..."
"Like, what's with that weird laugh, Scoob?"
"R-r-rasn't me!" Scooby whimpered. The three of them reluctantly looked up to find the shinigami perched atop the cart, clutching Scooby's hot dog.
At the happy haunted sunshine house, we can groove!
"Zoinks! Not again!" Shaggy cried.
Oh yeah!
The three leaped to their feet, pulling their masks back on as they ran full-out down the street, even though the creature had already seen their faces twice now. The shinigami kept on chuckling as he chased after them, claw-like fingers outstretched, wings flapping madly.
Despite the severity of the situation, Matsuda couldn't help but wonder why the buildings around them seemed to be repeating in an endless loop.
The shinigami started to catch up, actually slashing a bit of fabric off Matsuda's back. He forgot his idle observation and just ran faster.
Well there's cobwebs
And everyone's dead...
Shaggy spotted a sushi bar just ahead and was suddenly struck by inspiration.
"Come on, guys! This way!"
Once the sun shines in
To paint the place red!
The three dove into the restaurant, quickly barricading the door with a chair, and jumped behind the bar. Even inside, though, that insufferable music could still be heard, and within seconds the shinigami was beating and scratching at the glass door.
Don't be...
Don't be scared girl!
"What do we do?" Matsuda whispered.
"Like, don't worry! Scoob and I'll handle this!" Shaggy exclaimed. Matsuda peeked over the bar.
When the monster mash
Gets out of this world!
"He's breaking in!" Matsuda screeched, diving under the bar again as the glass shattered.
The shinigami calmly shuffled up to the bar, still chuckling darkly to himself. Before he could peer over the side of the bar, however, Shaggy and Scooby popped up with grins on their faces. Shaggy had a menu in his hand, and Scooby held a large bowl.
"Good evening, sir! What will you be having tonight?"
Matsuda nearly choked. Where on earth had they gotten those geisha outfits?!
Come on baby, kick off your shoes
Wave your hands from side to side...
The shinigami growled at them, batting away the menu Shaggy tried to offer him.
"Ah, rude customer, eh?"
Come on baby!
Shaggy tossed the menu aside as Scooby pulled the bowl over the monster's huge head. He growled and clawed at it, but it was stuck tight.
We dunk our heads in the apple bin...
Maybe if you're lucky you'll be mummified!
"Like, run for it!" Shaggy shouted as he and Scooby leaped over the bar, their geisha robes flying off in the process. Matsuda scrambled to his feet and followed them out the door, feet crunching on the broken glass. The shinigami let out a frustrated roar behind them.
Bah bah bah bah... bah bah bah bah!
They took off down the street again, but within a few seconds they heard the shinigami crash through the door again.
Bah bah bah bah... bah bah bah!
They ran past a lone pedestrian, a buff American-looking man with a blond pompadour and sunglasses – the only person left in abandoned Harajuku besides themselves, it would seem. Matsuda kindly shoved him into an alleyway, hoping it would be enough to save the stranger from Kira's rampage.
Maybe if you're lucky you'll be mummified!
"Whoa, mama! Why's everybody in such a hurry around here?" they heard him say. Scooby briefly glanced back – the shinigami was several yards behind, but still following them.
At the happy haunted sunshine house!
"Shaggy! Scooby!"
"Huh? Like, that sounded like Fred!" Shaggy exclaimed.
"Rere!" Scooby cried, pointing off to the left. Sure enough, there were Fred, Daphne, Velma, and L, at last, just about a hundred yards away and jogging toward them, their faces covered by creepily cartoonish masks.
"It's after us!" Matsuda shouted as the gap between the two groups closed near a circle of benches.
"The shinigami," L gasped, eyes imperceptibly widening behind his mask.
As the two groups of detectives came together, the shinigami growled once again and rose high into the air above them.
"Zoinks!" Shaggy cried. "There's, like, nowhere to hide here!" Scooby whimpered and jumped into his arms. Shaggy then panicked and jumped into Matsuda's arms.
But the shinigami didn't swoop down on them; instead, it roared before taking off into the distance, disappearing behind some tall buildings.
Matsuda's adrenaline drained away, and he found he could no longer hold his two shaking companions. All three toppled to the ground and opted to stay a while to catch their breath. As the music faded, they could hear police sirens in the distance.
"We should leave and let the police handle the crime scene," L declared. "We do not want anyone, not even the police, to know that we were here, or our cover will be blown." Meanwhile, Fred and Daphne helped their exhausted comrades to their feet.
"Did you find any clues?" Velma asked.
"We were, like, too busy trying to stay alive," Shaggy complained.
"Hey, wait," Matsuda chimed in, "Scooby, what's that on your collar?"
"Ruh? Rat is it?" the Great Dane wondered, trying to bend his head to see.
"A feather!" Daphne exclaimed. She bent down to Scooby's level, plucking a large black feather out from under his collar.
"It must have, like, come off when you put the bowl on it's head, Scooby!" Shaggy exclaimed. Velma procured a small baggy from a hidden pocket in her skirt, and Daphne carefully placed the feather inside.
"And where is Light?" L asked, though not so angrily as Matsuda would have expected. Truth be told, he had been anticipating a lecture about that ever since the shinigami had shown up.
"Over here, guys!"
All of them turned at once to see Light jogging up to them, looking as pristine as ever, except for a strand or two of wind-tousled hair being out of place.
"I heard the commotion outside while in the restroom," he explained quickly, "but when I came out the whole shop was empty, and the door had been locked. I could see people running around outside, so I hurried back to the bathroom and climbed out through the window."
Matsuda, Shaggy, and Scooby exchanged dubious glances, but said nothing.
"I've been wandering around ever since, but I had no idea which way you guys had gone until I heard shouting from this direction," he finished.
"So, Yagami-kun, you went to use the restroom just before the shinigami attacked, and thus became separated from the rest of your team?" L questioned, fumbling around in his left pants pocket.
"Ryuuzaki, it was only a coincidence," Light argued, a look of playful frustration on his face, as if he really were an innocent boy shaking off another of L's baseless suspicions.
"Regardless, the probability of your being Kira has now surpassed 30 percent," L stated, pulling a set of handcuffs from his pocket. "There have been many coincidences today, it would seem."
Light stared dumbfounded at the pale genius as long, slender fingers pulled at the teen's shirt sleeve. Reluctantly, Light obliged and held out his wrists, but L only cuffed his left one. It was not L's goal to leave the boy incapacitated; he was, after all, a brilliant mind that he'd hoped would help him with the case. L closed the other cuff on his own thin wrist.
"I apologize for the inconvenience, Yagami-kun," L said, an odd smirk on his otherwise expressionless face. "I have a pair with a longer chain back at headquarters which I'm sure will prove more comfortable for us both."
Light, and everyone else, in fact, stared back at L in more than a little shock. Apparently this was to be no ordinary arrest, but L didn't care to explain further just yet. Tugging his suspect along with him, he shuffled down the street in the direction of the Mystery Machine's parking spot. The others silently followed; it wasn't easy to read the genius detective's thoughts, of course, but it was quite simple to tell when he was no longer interested in talking.
"We've found nothing in Misa Amane's apartment, and the analysis of the feather has revealed no connection either."
"I see," L muttered smugly into the cell phone. He dropped two sugars into his tea, still holding three more cubes in his hand.
"Ryuuzaki, with all due respect to your deductive abilities, arresting Amane would be grossly unethical. We cannot hold the girl captive on your opinion alone; there is no evidence whatsoever that points to her involvement in this, and she has a solid alibi. She was at a photo shoot all afternoon on the other side of town, and no one has cited any suspicious behavior in her."
There was a soft grating sound as L's strong hand squeezed and crushed the sugar cubes.
"I understand, Watari. Thank you for your efforts." L snapped the phone shut and dropped it heavily on the desk. Light glanced curiously at the older man, and rightly so. Very few people in world, after all, had the privilege of meeting L in person, and even fewer could say they had witnessed his temper flaring up. It had happened more often than usual on this case, but, truth be told, L's moods seemed to be affected more by Light's presence than by the actions of Kira.
L opened his hand over the tea cup, spilling the loose sugar into the already sweet liquid. He meticulously brushed every last grain off his palm before stirring the tea, though he still did not drink it.
"Ryuuzaki, why did you have Watari call you on the phone when you're at headquarters? You could have just as easily communicated through the computer as you normally do," Light pondered. L glared at him out of the corner of his eye. The boy sat in a wheeled chair identical to his own at L's right, kept close by the six foot chain that now connected them. Not for a moment did L consider that Light hadn't heard the whole conversation, regardless of his precaution of having Watari contact him privately through the phone; the Yagami boy's tactics were as sneaky as L's own, even if he was always playing innocent.
Oh yes, it was far past 30 percent, but no matter the probability, L was absolutely sure he was right. Light Yagami was Kira; Light Yagami was the man behind the shinigami mask. And it certainly was a mask, there was no denying that now – the feather left behind was man-made.
The problem, as always, was a lack of evidence and explanation. No matter how high his percentages went, everything was still technically circumstantial and theoretical; naturally, there had been no surveillance of any kind in the Harajuku shop that Light had disappeared into, and L doubted that this was pure coincidence. Being L, he probably could have the boy locked away on circumstantial evidence alone, but he would never be satisfied by that. The police and the courts might not care about it, but L needed an explanation. He needed to know how Kira killed, and how he had pulled off all these stunts, if only for his own satisfaction, before he could have his false school chum locked away for good. Of course, he also needed to keep him under constant surveillance, since his guilt had become so apparent after today's events. Even the teen's own father, who had stood proud throughout he investigation, maintaining that he would prove his son's innocence no matter what the cost, could not fight this any longer. He still didn't believe his son was Kira, L knew that, but he certainly had his doubts now.
Light had quietly agreed to allow the 24-hour companionship of L, who would be watching and analyzing his every move and word, saying he would do whatever it took to prove his own innocence. Right in front of his father, whose head seemed to hang just a little lower because of it, he had protested the guilt that was now obvious to everyone.
What wasn't obvious, though, was that he hadn't necessarily done it alone.
Yes, it was just a hunch at this point. Watari had been right, of course: L really had absolutely no base with which to accuse Amane of involvement in this. She'd publicly announced in the past that she admired Kira, that he'd brought her parents' murderer to justice, but there were many people who felt that way these days. Just because she happened to personally know a Kira suspect didn't mean she knew anything else. Still, recent events had made L question whether a single person could be behind it all; the shinigami's theatrics, even perpetrated by a genius that, he had to admit, might be his near equal, it seemed unlikely that he could pull it off without help.
Light had long since given up on receiving an answer from L, whose full attention seemed to be on stirring his lukewarm tea, and had returned to his former task of sorting through pages of data and charts. The rest of the task force sat behind them at their usual table, pouring through various news reports and witness testimonies on the shinigami attack, demographics on the handful of people who had died during the first chaotic minutes, as well as the daily task of comparing and analyzing Kira's criminal judgments. Mystery Inc. sat in a semi-circle on the other side of the main room, Shaggy and Scooby lounging on one of the couches, snacking as they told the others yet again about the shinigami's behavior, what it looked like, the sounds it made, and anything else they could remember.
"Hey, guys, look at this!"
Matsuda, of course, had snuck away to watch television.
"Will you turn that thing off and get back to work?!" Aizawa chastised. "We've got more important things to do than see who wins on Idol, you know!"
"Seriously!" Matsuda pleaded. "Sakura TV's running a new Kira program."
"Those idiots will show anything for ratings," Aizawa argued, "it's not worth paying attention to."
"Just watch for a minute, will you?"
Unable to concentrate with the two of them arguing anyway, the rest of the team allowed curiosity to get the best of them. They all turned toward the large television where Matsuda was sitting. A fat and rather greasy-looking mustached man held a microphone, hosting a live studio show.
"This is Hitoshi Demegawa of Sakura TV, here with the support of hundreds, to welcome our lord Kira!"
"Matsuda-san, volume!" L demanded, rising from his chair and shuffling toward the television with Light in tow. Matsuda fumbled with the remote for a moment before finally managing to turn up the sound.
"We have realized the error of our ways, lord Kira! We have taken your gracious mercy for granted, and you have rightly punished us, but now we amend our ways!"
"What the hell..," Aizawa muttered from across the room.
"The god Kira lives in our very city, but never do we show him the gratitude he deserves for making our city safe again! So here we are, your loyal supporters, to welcome and thank you!" Demegawa swept his arm dramatically behind him as the camera zoomed in on the crowd of fanatics gathered in the large studio. Most of them were older women in ragged peasant-style dresses, some holding candles. The men in the audience looked no better; it was as if they'd dragged in a crowd of homeless to promote their program – which, incidentally, would not have been that surprising, considering the stunts this station had pulled in the past for the sake of ratings. They'd never been above airing fake news and spreading gossip.
"Spare us, lord Kira!"
"Have mercy on us!"
"We await your judgment!"
The cries of the crowd became more muffled as the camera panned across the huge assemblage.
"Hey, there's one normal-looking guy in there," Matsuda pointed out. The tall man did stand out: amid the disheveled fanatics, this single man wore a suit and tie, with smart-looking glasses and long but stylish hair. It was rather strange indeed to see someone looking so very professional in such a crowd.
"There are plenty of normal people who support Kira," Light reasoned, "but these crazy fanatics are the only ones willing to endanger their reputations and their lives by appearing on television like this."
"Indeed," L quietly agreed, though he hadn't truthfully be paying much attention to the conversation. The majority of people, even Kira supporters, had always been kept in check by fear. L had predicted that these shinigami appearances, where even the most innocent could be killed just for being in the wrong place at the wrong time, would increase that fear and even turn former supporters against Kira. Even if this did seem to hold true for most of the population, this particular minority could be dangerous. They seemed even more endeared to Kira because of the shinigami incidents – these events seemed to have exalted him somehow, the shinigami's wrath somehow proving Kira's power to be divine.
Within two days, Kira's small group of followers had become this much more radical and devoted, and given more time, might grow in size. It had the potential to become a powerful force; who was to say when this group might resort to violence or terrorism in support of their so-called lord?
This was bad.
A/N: Yes! I have CHASE MUSIC in a written work! XD
I know you're all curious, and, I assume, if you're sitting around reading fanfiction, you should have 10 minutes to spare, right?
Head over to YouTube and search for "bravo dooby doo." Another great Scooby-Doo crossover, and my source for the ridiculously awesome chase song, so you all must watch! It's a great take on the classic Scooby chase music, and come on, it even mentions apples! It's a sign, I tell you!
(Just make sure to come back here and review after watching, oki? Thanks.)
All done with the vid? Completely geeking out? (I still am! 8D )
Lots more emo bits in this chappie, too! As for L and Velma's relationship, well.. I'll let you guys draw your own conclusions for now, because really, I don't know either. Those emo bits have a mind of their own, I tell you, and they love to blatantly ignore my plans for how the chapter will go. Once I get started off on a character's past and feelings and whatnot, I never know just where it'll end up. But hey, this is the last of the introductory arc, so might as well include more relationship background stuff, right?
This has been my favorite chapter to write, by the way, there's so much fanservice! I hope you all enjoyed it just as much, but please review either way! And if you haven't yet, please go take the poll in my profile! Thanks!
