A/N: Omg thank-you so much to everyone who reviewed the last few chapters! I'm so stoked that people are actually interested in this story; you can't imagine how happy it makes me!
Now specifically to the guests who reviewed chapters six: Neither of you provided usernames so I'm going to respond to both of you at the same time here. I'm so glad you both liked the last chapter, and especially that you both enjoy Kaye. As for the remark regarding descriptions, much of the next arc is heavily focused on dialogue and character interaction so I'm not going to provide much external scene description within those moments - Kaye's perspective is limited for a reason. Now Kaye and L aren't going to be meeting up for a few chapters yet, but don't worry it is coming, and I've been planning it for a few years so don't worry I definitely have something in mind.
Thank-you all so much again, I really enjoy responding to your responses so I encourage you to keep them coming.
Chapter Five | Intermission
It was easily the nicest hotel that Naomi had ever been in.
The carpet was plush, full of rich colors with even more opulent looking furniture arranged on top of it. Most everything in sight was either a stark white or tinted with gold and red hues. Altogether the lobby evoked a more western feel than most western hotels, and what she wouldn't give to sink into one of those sinful-looking armchairs for maybe an hour or four.
Ignoring the urge to rest for even just five minutes, Naomi found one of the more uncomfortable looking places to settle down and proceeded to do just that.
"The key to not drawing attention is to look like you belong there," Kaye had said when Naomi asked why she had to be the one to sit in the hotel lobbies. Kaye had made a sweeping gesture that had encompassed the tip of her poufy bun to the battered scuff-marks of her sneakers. "I so don't look like I belong here, and the less attention we draw the better."
Naomi thought that Kaye's heart was still a bit too hesitant about discovering L's whereabouts than her impatience agreed with. Unfortunately, she had to relent with grudging admittance, because, yes, through no fault of her own Kaye did stick out like a sore thumb in Japan.
And, she had to admit, the other woman was helping.
Since going to the police was out of the question, and contacting Light Yagami even more so, Kaye had insisted that if they were going to find L their best bet would be to hunt down Watari.
"He's an old man with a moustache," was Kaye's description.
Naomi struggled to keep up with Kaye power walking down the sidewalk in long, efficient strides. "There are a lot of old men with moustaches in Japan, Kaye."
"Yes, but we're looking for a specific one. He'll be completely grey, and wear these rectangle spectacles that may or may not have arms. He'll be in a suit with a briefcase, and a hat that looks like a fedora but might not actually be – I don't know much about hats. He looks like a grandfather." She stopped on the street corner outside of the first hotel they'd cased. "And he has this thing where he needs to press the button for the elevator four times before getting in it. It's a minor case of OCD…I think. I don't know what he thinks is going to happen if he doesn't do it but he'll pause for a few seconds between one press of the button and the next so…it'll be the most noticeable thing about him."
The hard-backed chair Naomi has settled in has a perfect view of the elevators and the front entryway of the hotel itself. From her purse she pulled out a thick paperback, and pretended to be engrossed by its pages; in reality, most of her attention was split between the elevators and looking out for any old man who had glasses.
-:-
When she returned to their hotel room she discovered that Kaye had gotten her hands on the largest dry-erase board that Naomi had ever seen. On it the other woman had painstakingly written out a chronicle of the entire year thus far, each day marked by which criminals had died and at what time they had kicked it.
Even Naomi had not known any of this particular information. She had known that criminals were dropping dead daily – it was all the news could talk about – however, the news was not able to release any additional information apart from the day's body count.
"Where did you get all this?" she questioned. She gestured to Kaye's timetable, impressed.
Kaye looked up from where she had drawn a large question mark beside a specific date. "I've been keeping track since Kira started killing." She hefted the board into her arms and leaned it up against the headboard of her bed. "The internet is an interesting place; you can find all kinds of things on it."
Naomi kicked off her shoes. The older woman stepped farther into the room and sat, cross-legged, across from Kaye's scribbling. And it really was scribbling. There were not very many places where the writing was even legible. Even though the board was relatively large there were so many names attached to each date that Kaye's handwriting was small, and cramped until there was more dry-erase marker than whiteboard.
Kaye wiped her wrist across her forehead. The tips of her fingers, along with the side of her fist, were faintly dyed to match the color of her marker, and her hair was tied back out of her face in an even scruffier bun that usual. Naomi could tell that she had been at this since she had left for the hotel that morning.
She didn't look at Naomi directly when she gestured to the board again. "I've been trying to find some kind of connection between the times of death of all of the victims. Together. I haven't had much luck."
Naomi's attention was drawn to the giant question mark Kaye had been in the middle of adding when she had come in. "What's that for?" she asked, pointing to it.
Kaye groaned. "On January tenth, Kira tried to prove a point." She collapsed beside Naomi on the bed. "For some reason he decided to kill only twenty-four inmates once an hour. It's the only time he's been specific – and I mean really specific – about his killing."
Except for Raye, Naomi thought, though she did not say anything out loud. Thinking about her fiancé's death caused her chest to begin aching. She had to actively tune out Kaye's voice as the other woman continued, so that she could put most of her focus into not crying.
She had to constantly remind herself that she was doing this for Raye. There was no time to mourn him because she had to focus on catching his killer, otherwise she would never be able to put him to rest properly, despite the fact that his body had already been shipped back to the U.S. at this point. Naomi did feel a bit guilty about sending him home alone, but she had a feeling that he would have understood if he'd been alive.
At least, she hoped he would have.
Ignoring her burning eyes Naomi took a closer look at the deaths preceding January tenth. While those particular criminals had not been killed on as neat a schedule as those on the tenth, it only took a few moments for Naomi to discern the pattern.
"That's a High School schedule…" she muttered.
"Pardon?"
"Before the tenth," she clarified. "Before the tenth Kira was only killing in clusters at certain times. Look." She pointed to the times Kaye had written. "A few before 8:30 in the morning, a few around 1:00 in the afternoon, and then the rest after 5:00 or 6:00 in the evening. Only on weekdays."
The marker Kaye had been fiddling with up until this point dropped from between her fingers. "Oh my fucking God," she whispered. "Kira's just a kid." She shook her head like she couldn't believe what it was she was seeing. "I always figured he was naïve – most serial killers are in some capacity y'know? They have these delusions of grandeur, or self-importance, but…I didn't think that was because he was an actual kid."
Anger burned raw and hot in Naomi's blood. Child or not, Kira had still committed deplorable acts, and murdered innocent people. If Kira was a high school student than that meant he must have been between fifteen to eighteen years old. In Naomi's eyes that was old enough to be held accountable for your own actions. She would still arrest Kira if it was the last thing she did.
"That does not change anything," she said out loud. Her voice shook as she tried to contain the outburst. She wanted to lash out at Kaye for even having the slightest bit of sympathy for this... "Kira is still a monster."
"Yeah…" But Kaye looked far from convinced. "I just don't think he's one by choice anymore."