Chapter 7
Incongruous
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"That dress is gorgeous. Misa, you look so pretty!"
"Do I?"
"The prettiest, sweetie."
~Mariko and Misa Amane, April 25th, 2003
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"What d'you understand, now?" Susan asked, blinking. There was something laced beneath her voice, but Light couldn't tell if it was suspicion or outright confusion.
Dai started laughing.
"Oh, nothing," Light said. "I was talking to myself. Sorry, it's an old habit that I'm trying to break." He glanced to the side and rubbed the back of his head sheepishly for effect.
The fish didn't bite. "Still, what were you thinking about?" She looked him over, eyes dull. "You aren't on anything tonight, ri—"
"No, no, nothing like that," Light chuckled. "I'm tired, that's all." Susan's eyes didn't leave him and it was clear that he would have to continue. "I understand why… you hired me! You can't put up with doing these sorts of things yourself all the time; it's important to take breaks and rest in between. Don't worry, I'll take care of the party and all its guests. Go home and relax, okay?"
Susan's eyebrows knitted together, but the expression was gone as soon as it came. "Fine by me! Have fun, Mr. Yoru!" She shrugged as she walked out, leaving Light alone with Dai and around thirty loud students.
To begin, he hid. A quick duck behind the counter and the theft of two pizza slices set him up for around ten minutes. Thoughts became a raging river, which, although were not uncommon for him, could usually be ignored. He wished that the noise level would die down, but that was too good to be true.
"Whodunit?" Dai asked, sounding impatient. Light held up his hand in response, still chewing on the last bit of pizza.
With a final swallow, Light allowed himself a cheeky grin. "Ivan Villar has financial issues. He gets a job offer as a police investigator and asks his sister to loan him her vacation home. She denies him since she plans to stay there in a week or so herself. Of course, this makes him mad. He has one of the most powerful motives out there: revenge. Yet, he was at the station during and after the incident.
"But, although he has an alibi, that doesn't mean he couldn't have had some role in all this. In fact, I'm certain he does, considering how close he was trying to act towards his sister while I was there. He was attempting to dodge suspicion."
"So there's another culprit," Dai declared. "That would be… Maybe Susan's internet friend? Who calls herself Rose? Yeah... Someone who's too afraid to let her real name slip when she knows she's committing crimes. Hand out an alias and they won't arrest the real you… unless, of course, you're caught."
Light nodded. "Clara Felts, Rose, moved here with her boyfriend. Boyfriend being Ivan, who complained to her about his sister. I don't know whose idea it was, but Clara must have been the one who stole the t.v. and locked the room up."
"They stole from other vacation homes before—and plan to do some after—to cover up their tracks. That made it look like someone was picking victims at random," Dai said. "If I had to guess… all of the victims purchased the baby blue purses from Witty Knitty."
"Yeah. Susan said 'Rose' and her boyfriend shared a love of the fabric arts. It makes sense. I'd imagine it's pretty easy to ask where someone's from at a store. Think about how casual everyone is in a shop dedicated to old-fashioned crafts. If we need proof, though, we can ask there later for a log of customers, or something."
"I… don't think crochet is very old fashioned, but your guess is better than mine," Dai sighed. "Oh, but what about time? I mean, Ivan Villar's alibi?"
"At some point, Clara was given his key. She returned it in the time between when she left and when the police questioned him," Light said as if it was obvious.
"That's… not it," Dai giggled. "How fast can a human travel?"
"What are you talking about, now?" Light asked with a frown.
"Don't you have a navigation system on your phone? How fast can a human travel from Mercia Villar's vacation home to the police station?"
Light blinked. "Oh." Damn. He pulled out his phone. "I… don't think Google Maps is a thing right now. It won't work, will it?" He scrolled through and tapped open the app. Sadly, he was met with nothing but a white screen staring back at him.
"I guess not," Dai confirmed. "Think about when you contacted Naomi Misora. You could call her since cell phones of a sort existed around this time, too, although not as high-tech as yours. However, when you try to get into the Maps app, it'll only open, and that's it. Unless you decide to be the one to invent it for your own phone right now, like you did with the voice scrambler. That'd take a while, though, and is kinda impossible without permission to access one of those satellite thingies.
"Google Maps, though… When did it come into existence, again?" Dai laughed.
"2008 was when the app was released for iPhone," Light said, voice concealing a low growl. He would have to engage in human socialization with these people. Asking for directions and the usual time it took to get from A to B… He could do that without biting someone's head off, surely. He was Light Yagami, after all; calm, cool, and collected.
Taking a deep breath, he curled around the corner of the counter and stood up to come face to face with one Misa Amane.
And just like that, he felt the entire world sinking from underneath him.
It finally occurred to him that this wasn't just a high school party; it was a graduation celebration. He cursed at himself for forgetting to take into account ages while jumping. Misa was eighteen at this date, turning nineteen in December… He should've known she'd be graduating around now. Should've expected her, should've prepared for this, should've been more careful, should've taken the proper precautions—
No. Misa didn't live here. She wouldn't go to the local high school. There was no reason for her to be here, no way he could've anticipated this. So why was she here?
Misa looked at his face for a while, eyes rimmed red and watery. "Uhm, are you handing out any more pizza?" She pointed towards the platters sitting crooked upon the countertop.
Briefly, he worried about her having seen his face so early on. There was no way she could know his real name since she'd yet to receive the Death Note, so… In fact, he didn't need to be so concerned. Knowing Misa, she'd forget him soon enough. And, if that wasn't enough, he planned to remove her from the equation. Yes, this encounter meant nothing in the long run. Besides, he hadn't even put on his nametag yet, which meant she wouldn't know his alias, either.
"Yeah," Light said dumbly. He wanted to smack himself afterwards. Keep calm. Get info. Move on. "Feel free to help yourself."
"Thank. God." With that, Misa took a slice and tore off half of it with one bite. She finished the whole thing in a matter of seconds and moved on to another. Light had never seen her eat like this before. Or anyone, for that matter. Sure, he'd witnessed Sayu's stress-eating before, but she got heartburn if she ate too fast. Misa was acting like a vacuum cleaner with no repercussions.
"Are you okay?" he asked, smiling. She wasn't, he knew, but he had to ask.
"No," she said, confirming his suspicions, food still in her mouth. "Misa will have to puke this up later, but I don't care right now."
Light wasn't sure how to respond to that. Misa pouting wasn't unusual. Misa so upset she was willing to stuff herself with cheese and bread until she threw up, however, was new.
Although Light had never taken much of an interest in Misa's personal life, he began to wonder if he missed something. What if the dates were messed up, or if she neglected to mention an important detail? He doubted all options, firstly because his memory was flawless and secondly because Misa basically sold him her soul. Still, this situation was off. What was going on?
"Might I ask what the problem is? You're a very pretty girl; who would do something to make you so upset?"
She glared, which was not the desired reaction. "Nothing. Family issues, if you must know. I don't see why talking to you is important. Misa will only be here until the place closes, so stop bothering me. I don't want to go home yet."
Family issues. So she's given him some amount of context to work with. Light knew that Misa adored her family. She was distraught when recounting the memory of them dying. She wanted to thank him for passing judgment on the man who'd done the killing. Yet, she was mad at them here?
"First of all, we're kinda open 24/7, so feel free to stay as long as you want." Light watched as another slice became victim to her jaw. "Do you… like your family?"
"Misa does." She plopped down against the counter and drew her knees up to her chest, chewing. A few teens glanced down at her, but their curiosity lasted only a moment. "I think they can't understand," she added, tears starting to swell. "I think they never will."
If that wasn't a contradiction, Light didn't know what was. "What don't they understand?" he pressed.
"Everything!" she cried, pulling down the platter of pizza to sit beside her. Uh. "They expect too much. I can't do all that. I can't. I'm nothing. I just need to go away. I just need to close off. Hide away." Misa eyed him, picking up another slice like she was worried he'd steal it from her. "You think Misa's crazy," she said, and the tears streamed down her cheeks.
"You've made her cry," Dai accused, but Light could hear the chuckling that followed.
"No," Light said, half in response to Misa and half to Dai. "I don't think you're crazy." And she started crying after her rant without me even saying anything. That's not my fault. "What do your parents want you to do that's put so much pres—"
"Everything!" Misa declared once more, helpful as always. "Misa's better at everything. Misa should just do it all." She was quoting her parents here, Light guessed, every word making her body curl further into itself. "So Misa isn't going home tonight. No, Misa ran and she saw this place packed with people her age. She blends in here, she fits in here, and so she's staying here until I feel like going home."
"If you love them, you should go back." Misa merely sniffled in response.
"Remember that she did, at some point," Dai chimed. "She had to see the bodies in her home, after all." This didn't do anything to improve Light's mood. "If you interfere too much and wind up not saving them…"
"I know," Light began, then realized he was still crouched next to a sobbing Misa who couldn't hear Dai. "Uh, I know how hard it is, but family deserves second chances." Yes, this will work. "You ran away for a reason, so give them and yourself time to cool off before you head back. Maybe… sometime tomorrow night? A full twenty-four hours will be more than enough."
A thought hit him hard, then. Whatever fight Misa had with her parents was her last memory with them, would be that way unless he succeeded.
Regret, guilt, and sorrow… How had she kept that all in for the entire time she was with Light without him picking up on it? He was a master at reading others, unless said other was a humanoid panda or freakish albino kid or— The point was that he read only one of those three emotions from her, and only on occasion. She did cry when she wanted to. Every other time, it would be passion, love, or frustration, all of which were annoying to deal with.
Misa's crying stopped and she tilted her head to the side, still resting it between her knees. "You think so?"
"I know so," Light said with a nod. If he felt sick saying those words, the emotion was immediately shoved away. He smiled. She blushed. It was as if nothing had changed.
Finally, she took in a deep albeit shaky breath and stood up. "Thank you. Misa won't eat all your pizza, now," she said, laughing. "I wanna talk to some more people!" Starting to walk away, she turned to face Light once more, smiling with rosy cheeks. "Goodnight!"
Light, too, straightened himself, lifting up the platter of pizza with him. He set it aside on the counter and looked out into the crowd. To the left, where Misa had gone, was a crowd of boys, laughing and pushing each other around. He shook his head and went right, where a small group of girls crowded around a computer screen.
It wasn't hypocritical when he did it with a purpose, now was it?
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"Try one," Mello insisted, sliding the white and red box across the mahogany table.
"A cigarette?" Matt asked, looking back towards the closed door. They were alone in the library, which was a rare occurrence. Usually, others would've been around, their noses in books as they talked in hushed voices. "Are you sure we're allowed to?"
"Probably not." Bringing a cigarette to his chapped lips, Mello took a deep breath in… and then proceeded to cough and hack. Matt laughed, leaving Mello left trying to find an excuse for his temporary 'uncool' moment. "It… Whoever makes these death-sticks should flavor them better."
"Right," Matt said with raised eyebrows. "Like cotton candy, or something." He kept on giggling. Although he was only eleven and Mello was twelve, they acted like they were old-fashioned critics, trying and judging everything on the 'Do Not' list. When they found something that wasn't quite to their liking, they would figure out how to specialize it.
Did he fall while sliding down the stair rail? They turned a cardboard box stuffed with pillows into another, much more fun way downstairs. Were their landings from the zip line out their window into the yard too rough? Time to hit the physics books. Had Mello run out of chocolate bars? One kitchen break-in later and that was no longer a problem, courtesy of their homemade chocolate. (The extra they may or may not have sold to their fellow orphans like it was a drug.)
He had no idea how Mello planned to make a cigarette taste different, but he had faith that if anyone could do it, Mello would.
Mello stood, shoving the pack and his lighter into Matt's hands before walking away. "You can have them, then, if you're so tough," he called from over his shoulder.
"Fine." His response made Mello pause just before the exit. Matt took one, lit it with his friend's lighter, and inhaled. It was an odd sensation. He felt a little dizzy, perhaps even a tad naustead, for the first few seconds. But all that drifted away and he was left utterly elated, a wide smile shaping his lips. "Cool…"
"Hm." Mello glared, watching from the door. "Beginner's luck."
"So you've died from coughing multiple times, Mr. Veteran Smoker?"
"Shut it."
They didn't take into account the smoke detector and received an in-depth lecture afterwards. This, of course, didn't stop them from getting more a day or two later, which Matt had taken a strong liking to. Yeah, he knew it could kill him, but it was better to live life the way you wanted to and die young than be stuck bored for who-knows-how-long.
Mello also learned to make flavored rolling papers, but insisted against trying it. ("They're for you, you idiot. I... don't want to have one in case it's poisonous. Give it a go and report any side effects.")
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For the past fifteen minutes, Naomi had been staring at her Nokia, her finger hovering over the number pad. She re-positioned her legs, folding her left over her right. Due to recent weather changes, her jackets have become useless. Even though the sun had set, she was sweating bullets on the public bench, her hair sticking to her pale face.
Do it. She really should. A quick call, to check in on things, couldn't hurt. Yes, she would be direct, leaving no stones unturned, her words brief and profound and—
Naomi sighed. Get it over with. She searched back through her logs and, upon finding the number she was looking for, pushed the call button. Nerves were forgotten as the phone rang once… twice…
She received no answer.
A few thoughts raced through her mind. Had Four gotten rid of the phone he used then? Or, perhaps, he was blocking her cell from calling his? Maybe he had a program that—Silly. Focus. Try again.
Once… twice… Still nothing.
Naomi worried, but this time it didn't last for long. Time zones, her mind exclaimed, relieved. Four was on a different time zone, judging by when he last called. Perhaps he was actually getting some sleep, wherever he was right now. This was a good thing. Probably.
She stood up, slipped her Nokia back into her purse, and pulled the bag up over her shoulder. It was then that her phone buzzed. Frantic, she sat back down and dug around for the device, accepting the call and holding it up to her ear.
"Hello?"
"You tried to call me?"
Naomi blinked. Four. He wasn't using a voice scrambler? She must've caught him at a bad time. "I'm sorry," she apologized, biting her lip. It took every ounce of willpower she had to avoid over-analyzing his real voice; that would be rude, right?
But… He really is a 'he'. Sounds young, but not— She shook her head, mentally cursing.
"It's only midnight," Four said, excusing her apology as if it was nothing.
"Midnight?" He's on the east coast. Once more, Naomi frowned. "Sorry," she said again, but immediately continued. "I wanted to ask how your case is going."
Four was silent for a while, and Naomi wondered if she'd been too brazen. "It's been going well, actually." Okay, good. "I know who the culprit is; all that's left now is the arrest. Why do you ask?"
There was a message contouring those words. How did you know? She couldn't quite say, herself. It was her intuition, she guessed. That, and it just… made sense.
"You seemed off the last time we talked," Naomi said, opting to tell the truth. "Not as focused. I guess I was worried." She quickly added, "What case? I could help a bit."
"Don't worry about it," came the undesired response. "It's all under control." He hung up after that, distracted by something he deemed more important for the time being.
That was okay.
She could rest easy knowing that she did her best to offer assistance. She could ignore how rushed he'd sounded. She could ignore the curiousity bubbling up from inside her.
It was okay.
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"Hey," Clara said, breathing softly into the phone. She wrapped her hands around her cup of coffee, a bright smile glistening against the moonlight. A gust of air blew through her open window, but she wasn't cold. Her favorite was wrapped around her shoulders, after all.
"Hey."
"About what we talked about earlier? It would mean a lot if you came through." She hoped she wasn't coming off as too needy. They were desperate, sure, but she didn't want that to be common knowledge. It was a weakness, and those were meant to be hidden.
"I… don't know. You sure it'll work?"
"Fairly sure," Clara laughed. "Have I ever messed up before?"
"…No."
"So, then, are we good to go?" she asked, taking a sip from her warm drink.
"Good to go."
She should've known that there was a first time for everything.
