Sakura, Sakura, Smile down on me
Kira/OC/L
"You can say I'm not alone all you want, God, but even in your light, I see nothing. I feel nothing. I am still alone."
Chapter Four: Special
"You're awfully quiet, Hoshigake," I said softly as I lay on my back, in my new apartment. I opened one eye too look over at my shinigami, who was reclined in a chair, watching a spider crawl across the window sill. I winced as he killed it, casually scrawling its name in his deathnote.
"Why don't you kill with your Deathnote, Kaira?" He asked me in return, ignoring my statement.
"Because," I replied, shrugging.
"Because of honor or your lovely brother?" He asked back, voice sharp.
"Both."
I looked over to my alarm clock, and sat up, tying the black silk robe that slipped over my shoulders tighter around me. Hoshigake floated over, peering down at my face. I looked away, shivering at the cold presence of his hands on my hips. I let out a low growl and stalked into my kitchen, slamming the bedroom door behind me no matter how childish it was, and ignored the old man that was sitting at my table. I pulled a prepackaged salad from the convenience store two blocks down the street from the fridge.
"Good morning, Sakura. Do you have tea?" He asked calmly.
"Watari, I though old people drank coffee?" I teased grumpily.
"Dying old people," he corrected. "I am on the other hand, remarkably healthy. Do you have peach?"
"No, but I have fried chicken," I replied sarcastically, not really bothered that I was taking out my temper on him.
"Then I'll have some of that," he said, smiling faintly, leaning back in his chair.
He was silent while I boiled the water. I could sense Hoshigake in the dining room. "L has no updates," Watari began slowly, watching me for my reaction over the breakfast bar. I stopped mid-pouring, calmed my breathing, and brought him his cup.
"All right," I said monotonely.
"Sakura…" He began, not quite sure what too say.
"What, Watari?!" I snapped, unable too restrain myself. This was a sensitive topic for me. "What the hell am I supposed too do?!" I ended in a harsh whisper, looking down into my own peach tea clutched in my hands. The cup was trembling, or I was. I set it down.
"Sakura, L is trying. You know that."
"No, I don't!" I snapped back, restraining tears. "For ten years he's been "trying". Damn it, Watari, he's supposed too be the best!" I slammed my fists down on the table, shoulders hunched, hair hanging over my face. My tea spilt. I cursed, straightening up and went too get a towel from the cupboard. I tightened my robe on the way.
"Sakura, listen too me," he started, a little more sternly than before.
"No. By the Devil's own hounds I will." I cursed softly, cleaning up the tea up off of the floor. "I'm leaving Kyoto at the end of the month. I found more evidence." I told him, voice low, restraining my anger now. I got violent or started crying when I got too angry. I didn't want too do either. "Now get out. My phone is ringing." I picked up the phone, watching as the door shut behind the old man. I put the mugs in the sink, as I hand washed them.
"Moshi Moshi," I said into the phone. "Cherry Blossom residence."
"Sakura?"
"Speaking."
"This is Chief Yagami."
"Ah." I set down the mugs, turning off the tap water. I leaned on the counter, listening. "How can I be of service?" I adjusted the phone so I could hear better. There was no background noise.
"The SPK would like too request your services."
"What's the job?" I asked, unable too mask all of my excitement. I stood up straight, trying too stand still.
"His name is Age Tegami. I'll have Matsuda meet you at the museum with the file."
"All right. What does it pay?" I might as well find out, not that I really needed the money.
"2,000,000 yen. "
"I'll think about it." I usually charged double. "What do you want me too do?"
"Collect evidence for a trial, and bring him into our custody, alive and whole."
"That's a first," I mused, more too myself than him.
"What?" He asked, disgruntled.
"People usually just expect them too be brought in alive, and get upset when I kill them."
"I've dealt with your kind of mercenary before." Ooh, touchy, touchy. I smiled, resisting the urge too giggle. That was practically a compliment.
"Congratulations. Now, if I don't like him, how much if I kill him?"
"Half if you get a picture of his head and bring in everything else so we can close the case. One fifth if you just kill him."
"Nice touch."
"I don't appreciate being scammed. 10 am. The Natural History Museum. Goodbye."
He hung up immediately, and I snapped the phone shut. I smiled wistfully, staring at the little electronic.
"You gonna use the Deathnote?" Hoshigake asked.
I shrugged. "Depends how easy it is. I might use it too influence the matter, though."
Once I was ready (a T-shirt and plain black pajama pants, some makeup and a blonde wig), I grabbed my bag, keys and helmet before heading out into the hall. I locked my door, slipped the keys into my pocket, and went down too the garage for my motorcycle. I rode it too the museum, and bought a tea from a concession stand while I waited.
A flustered looking man soon arrive, with that look that identified him of a cop no matter what he wore, two minutes after ten am. I smirked, and walked over too him.
"Hullo luv," I said as sweetly as I could manage with my best british accent. I let out a curse, though, as I tripped, spilling the peach tea. He helped me up.
"Are you all right?" He asked worriedly.
"Just klutzy," I mumbled, waving off his concern. Way too look professional. "Are you Matsuda?" He nodded, and I snatched the folder he was holding. "So what's your opinion? Should I kill this guy or just hand him over and hope the jury likes my nice clean evidence?" I put the file in my bag, turning my gaze to him.
He looked surprised, and nervous. "I –uh- well, that is…"
"Relax. You won't lose your job over your opinion."
He sighed, looking down, as if ashamed to say it. "Yes. He should die."
"Painfully?"
He swallowed, glanced at me, then back down. I waited, and he answered. "Very."
"So how about I skin him alive with a sharpened butter knife after using his ribs as chopsticks too feed him his own eyeballs?" Matsuda turned green, something cops don't do often. Either he's new, or he pictured that clearly.
"N-No… That's just… vile," he mumbled, swallowing his nausea and straightening. Good cop. He pictured it clearly.
"Of course. I reserve that for specials." I bit back the pain of a memory.
"Are you even legal?" He asked suddenly.
"I have a liscense."
"Too torture?!"
"For needed information, yes." He looked appalled at my matter-of-fact answer.
"Where the hell did you even come up with that?!"
"My father?"
"He made that up?" He looked like he was going too be sick again."
"No. After he pulled out her teeth he did that." His eyes bulged as he matched my calm gaze, and shivered.
"To who?" He choked out. He probably didn't even want too know. Poor guy.
"My first cat." Matsuda closed his eyes and breathed through his nose.
I walked away and found a bench in front of a display of a plane that bombed Pearl Harbor. I sat down, pulled out the file, and read over it.
He was suspected of mass serial murder and serial rape. His victoms were boys between the ages of four and twelve. There had been a female witness, but she had been killed then raped. A damned necrophiliac. He had been tried three times under different judges and juries, but somehow got away with only theft of some small things like pocket watches or wallets. He had a husband and two adoptive kids, Utagau and Adoroki. He had damned kids. He worked as a janitor at an elementary school, and all of his past careers had been as a waiter at various resteraunts, but got fired for harassing male employees and customers.
I stood up and walked back too the entrance, slipping the file back in my bag. Matsuda was still there. He looked up as I walked too him.
"Hey, he's a special. Let the chief know. Thank you, Matsuda for your time. I'll video tape my proof and get back too you next week." He went wide eyed, watching me with raw terror as I climbed on my bike and rode back home. I need too get some things.
X.x.X.x.X