Chapter 4
Call
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"Say you were walking along the sidewalk one day and ran into a big-eyed, fluffy stray dog. This dog looks up at you, and suddenly you feel an overwhelming urge to reach down and pet the poor thing. You mind screams at you, 'No, don't pet it. You're going to get too attached. Don't pet it.' And yet, your heart is telling you otherwise. So, you crouch down and rub its floppy ears.
"The next thing you know, you're considering giving it a name... maybe you'll even take it home with you. 'Doing so will only make things worse,' your brain reminds you. 'But it's so tempting,' your heart shouts back.
"I'm the idiot who gave it a name. And I don't regret it one bit."
~Light Yagami
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"Hello?" Naomi Misora asked, cupping her phone closer to her ear. She yawned, glancing over at the clock. 12 am. Good grief. Next to her, a still-asleep Raye Penber shifted against the sheets, and she took it upon herself to exit the room. The door closed with a satisfying click.
"Hello..," the caller replied in Japanese, their distorted voice drawing out each syllable. "This is Ms. Misora, correct?"
Naomi snapped to attention. It couldn't be... "Four?" she rasped, still talking in English. She huddled down into the corner of the hallway and watched the bedroom door, cursing herself for being so loud. Upset, she switched over to her native tongue. "Why are you calling me? Is it another case?"
"Ah, no," came the reply. "I was... wondering how you were doing."
"At midnight?" Naomi sighed, straightening herself out of the fetal position she'd curled into. She massaged the bridge of her nose and moved into the kitchen. Thankfully, Raye was a heavy sleeper. Cute.
"I'm sorry, I didn't realize what timezone you were in." She yawned once more, taking into consideration the caller's words as she fiddled with the coffee machine.
"I could've sworn I told you my plans about staying in L.A. for a while. I didn't want to travel much after… well, you know," she said, wrapping her free arm around herself. "Hey, um, have you gotten… Actually, no, never mind." She shook her head violently. "What do you need to ask me? And, before you tell me otherwise, I know you wouldn't call me without a purpose. So spill the beans." She shivered and added as an afterthought, "Is L going to call me soon, too? Please tell me I won't need to destroy my cell after this."
The voice at the other end of the line hesitated for a moment. "I'm glad to hear you're doing well."
Dial tone rang Naomi's ears, and she groaned loudly before heading back down the hallway. Why was it always her that had to deal with the socially inept geniuses? Her coffee was forgotten for the time being. She cautiously twisted the doorknob open and slid into the bedroom, but she wasn't as sneaky as she thought she was.
"Naomi?" Her cheeks flushed and she turned to look straight into Raye's bright blue eyes. "Did something happen? Are you okay?"
"It's n—," Naomi began, her hands curled into fists. The lie was so easy. It was right there at the tip of her tongue. She'd spent so much of her life lying… so why did this feel so difficult? "It was… Four. On the phone."
Raye stiffened up and his mouth opened ajar. "What did he want?"
"Four could be a girl, Raye," she chided, but gave in. "I think he wanted something from me—maybe assistance on a case—but then remembered that I'm still in L.A." She sat down on the bed next to him. "It's...worrying. He usually pays such a sharp attention to details, and his memory was what had impressed me when we first spoke. Something must've happened, don't you think? It's odd for him to be so disorganized."
"I guess so," Raye said, "but it isn't your problem, Naomi. He's a brilliant detective; You've said so yourself. Maybe it's late for him wherever he is too, and this was his way of venting about a case. He'll probably be fine. Don't worry about things like that too much. It doesn't concern you."
"Right," Naomi said, letting Raye's arms embrace her.
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"I suppose trust is a silly thing, don't you agree?"
~Naomi Misora
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Light sighed and his grip on his phone tightened. His palms were sweaty. This had to be, by far, one of the weirder experiences of his life. That, and the feeling he had when his memories of the Death Note came back.
"Looks like I'm going back in time to meet her at some point," Light sighed, rubbing his temples. "Why..? She asked me if I was calling about 'another case', so chances are we've worked together in the past— er, my future and her past. Still, I don't see a point in going back any further than this date. So why?" He thought back to the name she'd called him. 'Four'. Shi. Death. It almost seemed satiric, in a way, that he'd choose something like that to be an alias. But, more importantly, he now knew what he was going to have to call himself.
Dai laughed. "You ask me like I'm supposed to know these things. And, even if I did, I wouldn't tell you. The look on your face just then was priceless!" At this, Light scowled and pulled out his earbuds harder than he intended. He unlocked the restroom door and slipped out and over to the counter. Thankfully, it looked like no one was waiting in a line for him. In fact…
"Seems like everyone left," he said, glancing around at all the desks. He looked over at the clock. "Three more hours to go. Assuming that Susan isn't the type of person to be late." Turning on his laptop, he pulled up a search engine.
"You're going to look up the past? Smart."
"Of course. I need to know what my future self did when he went back in time." That sentence alone sounded confusing. It took every bit of Light's willpower not to mash his head against the keyboard; that would only make his headache worse. "I don't want to be left in the dark. That'd be too suspicious, and the last thing I want to do is draw that kind of attention to myself right now." He typed in 'Four' and clicked the search button. Much to his dismay, nothing but the expected popped up.
"Seems like you ask for them to keep your name out of things," Dai commented. "Oh well. Let this be a lesson for you, I suppose, Light Yagami. When time traveling, pick one date and don't ever jump back further than that. It's best to move at least somewhat linearly so you don't wind up confused as to when you did what."
Light chuckled sadly. "Apparently, I won't listen to your advice." His fingers hovered over the keyboard as he racked his brain through several different possibilities.
Did he need to get involved in the past to catch the thief who killed Misa's parents? No, that was unreasonable. There had to be enough clues left at the scene of the crime to pick up on something substantial. He would have no need to jump back for something like that. Then… what was the reason?
"Maybe you should try those police databases again," Dai suggested. Light frowned before pulling up the program he created.
"I'll try, but I don't see myself leaving something behind. If I didn't want the public to know of my existence, why would I let the general police in on it? Naomi Misora was a… is currently an FBI agent. She's probably the one I worked with, then. The FBI has the power to keep secrets like that, and I don't have the skill level to get to their records." He opened up several folders and began browsing through the files halfheartedly.
"I don't see you leaving yourself in the dark like this." This caused Light to pause. Of course.
"You're… right. I'd leave a message of some kind; something that explained it all so that there were no mix-ups. And that's exactly what I did. Getting Naomi Misora's phone number was the message," Light said, relieved. "Naomi Misora must be important. For some reason, I'm going to need her contact information in the future. Either that or the case she's involved in is equally as important. 'My participation in that event took priority over any possible confusion…' I think that's what this means.
"Anyways, I'm going to try and look up all the FBI investigations that happened within the past year. I added her to my contacts about a year ago, apparently, so that puts things at least somewhat into perspective." Light closed the records and reopened his browser.
Dai hummed. "Lemme check. I'll be much quicker than your silly little human device." Silence enveloped Light for only a brief moment as he processed that. Check what? "Got it. The L.A. BB Murder Case. She was involved with that. That's when she first worked with L. They solved the case together. I'd look for more than that, but I hate spoiling the fun. Don't expect me to do something like this again, you got it?"
"The L.A. BB Murder Case?" Light repeated, bringing his chin down to rest on his hand. He hesitated before typing the query into the search bar. "Let's see how much we can find on this."
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"Hello. I'm Hideki Ryuga," the man said, scratching the back of his head. He wasn't wearing a suit or anything even remotely appropriate, and he kept shifting back and forth in abused sneakers. "I'm your substitute teacher for the day." Several kids began to whisper and look around the room suspiciously. It was hard to tell if this man was telling the truth, or if he was a serial killer who was waiting for the perfect moment to strike.
Sayu Yagami, who was very much looking forward to taking a nap in class today, was perturbed. Why the hell would a school hire such a shady looking sub? Why couldn't it have been the real Hideki Ryuga, and not some freaky humanoid panda? And, most importantly of all, why was Mr. Panda staring at her like that?
As far as teachers went, Sayu would admit to having worse. Mr. Panda was by far the most intelligent one yet, but his social skills were lacking. He talked to the children as if they were monkeys who lacked any comprehension of human speech. Of course, this backfired, and his expression upon hearing the kids' refusal to listen was hilariously priceless—a well mixed concoction of disgust and blatant agitation.
Other than that mishap, he seemed like an okay teacher; he knew the material and how to explain it, even if said explanation was as painful to teach to the unwilling students as pulling teeth. Although, with how much he looked at her, she was starting to think that schools needed to conduct more thorough background checks.
She shivered when he called for her to stay after class.
"You wanted to speak with me, sir?" Sayu questioned, eying Mr. Panda. Her brother had requested that she learn self-defense from the moment she hit junior high, and she's kept up with it ever since. If necessary, she decided that she could disable him enough to make a decent run for it.
"Yes. You're Sayu Yagami, daughter of the chief of the NPA, Soichiro Yagami. You've always been an average student, and you focus on your social life with far more passion than school. Overall, you don't appear to be enigmatic, nor do you romanticize justice. However, there is still something that I would like to tell you, if you're interested." As an afterthought, he added, "It regards the Kira case."
"Shoot," Sayu declared, folding her arms. She was a little disturbed—reasonably so, considering how much this guy knew about her—but she still didn't feel like drop-kicking her sub.
Mr. Panda looked thoughtful for a moment. "I'm assuming that was the equivalent of a 'yes'." He paused, looking her over with care, as if he was rethinking something. Ultimately, a look of dismissal flashed across his dark eyes, but his determination didn't sway. "I want to tell you that I'm L."
With that, Sayu burst into a fit of bubbly laughter.
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The possibility that Light was going to pass out at any given moment was high. His pay wasn't substantial enough to get him into a motel (or any other sort of reputable establishment). Susan didn't have a big enough heart to let him stay at the Internet Cafe. Not even his perfected puppy eyes could sway her coffee-less morning brain. Thus, he was sent out to wander the streets of Orlando with nothing but a pat on the back and a paycheck.
He had a goal, of course. Light always made goals. He knew what he would do and what day he would do it. Planning things like this has come naturally to him since… Well, as long as he could remember.
The plan was to find an obscure location to set up his things and make contact with the Orlando police. He knew what to call himself, and (with any luck) they'd know him by name. Or, even if they didn't, telling them to check with the FBI would bring him enough attention to make his efforts worthwhile.
At the very least, they'd hear out his request to search the crime scenes in person. At most, they may be willing to send in their own men to look for him. He wouldn't have to do much more than organize and deploy them according to his whims.
Wishful thinking, Light knew. But it was his best shot at gathering enough clues to pinpoint the culprit before Misa's parents got killed.
Several children skipped past him, bags on their backs as they raced around the corner. They reminded him of Sayu. He followed them and was met with a park full of busy people swarming back and forth across the pathways. Benches lined the sides and were shaded by rich trees. He smiled to himself. A small, secluded, yet public place. Bingo.
He curled along the central pathway and found a place to sit that was surrounded by bushes of various kinds. Pulling out his laptop, he positioned himself comfortably and hooked up his microphone. He didn't feel nervous or concerned. In fact, he was confident; giddy, even. If he could pull off pretending to be L, he could handle being himself. Or, well, a version of himself—No one would listen to him if he demanded them to release the names and faces of criminals worldwide to the media.
"What're you going to say, Light Yagami?" Dai asked. The deity had been oddly silent for quite some time; The sudden question startled him.
"You don't need me to answer that, do you?"
"I guess not. I'll just watch, then." That seemed to be all Dai wanted to say, and Light shrugged his concerns away. He could ask more things later.
A soft beep resonated from his computer and through his headphones. Light gave the area a quick scanning before he clicked open the notification. A man greeted him, a scraggly beard covering his entire lower face.
"This is Chief Porter of the Orlando Police Department. This better not be a prank. Who are you? Why have you contacted us? How did you get my email? And why is your facecam turned off?" Ah, how Light adored Americans. They loved their questions.
"This is Four," Light said through the mic. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Chief. You may or may not have heard of me, but that doesn't matter. You can confirm my identity with the FBI if need be. I've worked with them in the past."
Porter stroked his beard and his bushy eyebrows furrowed. He waved over to someone outside of the camera's field of view, presumably to issue an order of some kind. Someone shuffled several papers around, and a voice peeped up a quiet confirmation. Porter nodded as he turned his attention back to the camera.
Light couldn't stop a smirk from creeping up onto his face. "I'll assume that you are now certain of my identity." Thank god for the FBI's cooperation. It had been a good idea to send a message ahead of time, then.
"Yes, uh… We are. I've been ordered by the director to ask what you need from us. We're 'just local cops', apparently," Porter growled, shifting in his seat. "The director doesn't understand why you'd contact us and not… well, her."
"It's because you're local that I've asked to speak with you," Light said smoothly. "You've recently taken on a case regarding vacation home burglaries, is that correct?" He knew it was, but he doubted this man would listen to him much if all he did was talk the whole time. A conversation was a two-way thing, even if he wished it wasn't.
"Uh, yeah. Our men have been working on it, and…" He looked over to the side again and frowned at someone offscreen. "Why do you want to know?"
"I thought that would be obvious, Chief. I want to assist with the investigation." Porter's eyebrows raised and his eyes widened. A man rushed over to his side, and Porter whispered something into his ears before watching him run off. Sighing, Light added, "I hope that this won't end up being a problem, sir. I'd hate to be a burden." Fake sympathy was a pain.
Porter's head whipped back and forth. "No, not at all! We'd love to have you work with us!" he said, looking forward to the reputation this would bring him. "What is it you'd like to do? Head the investigation? I can—"
"Ah, no. All I want is your permission to investigate the crime scenes personally." If Light thought the old man's eyes couldn't get any larger, he was sorely mistaken. It took everything in his willpower to resist laughing.
"P-personally? Are you sure? Really? Here?"
"Yes, I'm quite sure. Of course, if you don't approve, I'd be happy to just lead a small group of officers to the locations under my orders. Although, whether or not your men are trustworthy for this kind of work is debatable—and I'd much rather do things myself—but I understand if you would prefer this." There were more hushed whispers behind the camera, which Light ignored. By the looks of things, Porter was ignoring them too.
"No—er, well, yes. Yes, you can do whatever you like! We'll work alongside you. You'll have full reign of this investigation, Four." Porter's mustache curled, and, through the locks of facial hair, his white teeth glistened. Clearly, he figured that this would be a huge stepping stone in his career.
"Good. I'll sign off, then. Thank you for hearing me out, Chief." He closed the program and stretched, laughing to himself. It was easy. Far too easy. He could see why his future self had decided to go back in time for something like this; the reputation that came from helping the FBI was incredibly useful. He must've solved that case easily (of course, his speediness then was thanks to the foreknowledge he now possessed, but, still, he felt good). The amount of power he held from that alone was almost silly, but he wasn't complaining. He couldn't help but wonder, would he be as influential as L? No, L's solved way more cases… Perhaps he should do more work, and—
"I take it that you're no longer mad about the whole Future Self leaving you in the dark', correct?" Dai asked. Light only laughed harder.
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"Humans are all the same. You really never do change."
~"Dai"
