Chapter 9

There Is A Light That Never Goes Out

And if a double decker bus crashes into us:

to die by you side is such a heavenly way to die

And if a ten ton truck, kills the both of us

to die by your side, well the pleasure, the privilege is mine.

~ The Smiths


L was silent in the car as Watari sped along the Tokyo roads towards the docklands. Soichiro and the rest of the team followed in a car behind. Light watched as L absentmindedly thumbed the mobile in his hand before trying the line again.

"Still the answerphone. So stupid," L said, exasperated, letting his hand fall on his knee.

"She'll be all right," Light said, in as comforting tone as he could muster. Truth was, he didn't think it would be all right. This whole thing, whatever it was, had spiralled into chaos and they were currently driving right into it. He was surprised that Ryuzaki was taking this action; putting himself in danger, not just himself but the whole investigation team too. He was usually so unforgiving of agent cock-ups and yet he was willing to put everyone's lives in jeopardy for V. Or was it for the 'book'. Light studied L the whole time, a spectral, translucent reflection in the car window and apparently expressionless. He could distinguish how tense he was, it could be sensed like a oncoming storm. It made Light feel more agitated than he'd like. "Ryuzaki, what book is V looking for?" he asked.

L didn't even show any indication that he's even heard the question. Instead, he tried the phone impatiently again and slamming it down with more force when he, again, got no reply. As Light's eyes focused in on L's reflection in the glass, he saw those obsidian eyes staring back at him, dipping in and out of view with the passing street lights.

"I was stupid to let her go. She's unreliable," L confessed, turning his face so slightly that Light could see his profile. "Now we could lose everything. Why does everything have to be so wrong?"

"Ryuzaki, I have brought the rifle," Watari stated from the drivers seat. "I hope we have no need of it."

"Thank you, Watari." L replied, pleasantly.

Light was irritated when Watari interrupted. He discerned that the intention was to remind L that his strange fragility and openness was not appropriate to share with Light. No, on the face of it, Light wasn't someone he should be confiding in about anything. In more boring moments, Light was fascinated by L and Watari's relationship. The ever present foundations of politeness; the way neither of them seemed vaguely rattled while speaking to each other. It was like they grounded each other. Wait a minute. A rifle? Light's eyes spun to Watari. Had he strayed into a Tarantino film? What was Watari doing with a rifle and hoping that he wouldn't have to have need of it?

"Ryuzaki, please, if this is to do with the case, we have a right to know. I have a right to know," Light said, sternly.

L turned to Light, looking as tired as he'd ever seen him. "It's about the information you found about the book of death which could be used to kill anyone whose name was written within it," he explained.

"God, I knew it!"

"I'm sorry, Light, I took the lead from you. Eventually, I traced a source to a church in Italy and found links to a Yakuza group who had had it stolen and exported here to Japan. V found where we suspected the book was being held for the handover. It's the church where V is now. Wedy and Aiber have been keeping tabs on the Yakuza group while V tried to track down and obtain the book and effectively hijack the exchange. Unfortunately, it doesn't seem to have gone as smoothly as I'd hoped."

"No, it really hasn't. I wonder why?" Light muttered, sarcastically.

"Are you saying that it would be been better had you been involved? Because you know absolutely nothing about this kind of operation. Telling everyone would only hamper things further."

"Oh, I'm used to being excluded, don't worry. But you lied to me. You said that the information I found was useless," Light said, trying desperately to take it all in but faltering upon the fact that L had stolen from him. Lied to him. Damn sentimentalism. Was he destined to allow himself to be disappointed by L over and over again?

"I'm sorry," L repeated, because there was nothing else he could say.

"Yes, you're always sorry."

The cars drew up outside the church, the shell of which could just be seen beneath corrugated iron which was fencing it in, lines of red rust running down like tears. As the team gathered behind L's armoured car, L turned to Light.

"Light-kun, I'd rather you'd stay here. Matsuda-san, stay with him. Unless you would prefer to, Yagami-san."

"No, Ryuzaki," Light said, urgently. Absolutely fucking not.

"Light, Ryuzaki is right. This is too dangerous. Stay here with Matsuda," Soichiro told him, softly as he eyes wandered over the building he was about to enter.

"No, Dad, we've been through this. I have a right, don't I? I'm part of this team and what's in that building could prove my innocence." While Light didn't much want to be in a car with his father and a gun again, he also didn't want L to go in there without him. He did have a right, didn't he? More than most. Aside from that, he couldn't help but feel a strange draw to that shell of a building.

"Light-kun -"

Before L could continue, a peal of gunshots echoed from inside the building. Instinctively, the team all reached for their revolvers. Watari bent over and opened his briefcase, pulling out the rifle. It was a big 'un. Light thought that he'd seen something similar in a film about Stalingrad. God, it was Clint Eastwood-size!

"Wedy, Aiber. What are your positions? None of you are showing on the tracker. Have you located V?" L said into the transceiver.

Over the crackling line and in-between gunshots, Wedy whispered, "L? Aiber, she's taking them out!" which was followed by a desperate shout - "This is crazy, we should help her! Aiber!"

Aiber replied decisively, "Where is she? Jesus Christ. Wedy, pull back, pull back!"

The mobile in L's hand rang. L stared at the display, it was V's number on the caller display, he answered it immediately, putting it on speakerphone.

"V?" he said, hesitantly.

"L, I presume. This is the Napoleon of crime speaking." The voice had a gassy, wheezy half laugh to it and a positively hateful pretence of friendliness. "I have your girl here. Caused quite a bit of a fuss, she did. Let's strike a deal here shall we? I'll let this one go with barely a dent in her bodywork if you guarantee me a free way out of this."

"Let me speak to her," L demanded, coldly.

"Say hello to daddy, sweetheart," the voice cooed.

"L, don't do it! Kill the bastard. He has the -" V's voice pled breathlessly before being cut off by the sharp sound of knuckles hitting soft skin.

"So, there you go. Now I suggest you hurry. Your girl has a bit of a problem concerning a bullet in the gut and I'd hate for her to stain the furniture, especially in a house of God. Please collect immediately and let's try and be friendly about this," the man's voice slimed across the phone.

"Bring her outside, you will not be troubled," L said.

"No, I would quite like to meet the great L. You're responsible for my brother being executed, so I heard. Come in, why don't you?"

"Fine," L answered, not sounding in the least concerned.

"Ryuzaki," Light murmured.

"Stay here, Light-kun."

Everything told Light to agree. Going in there was suicide. Then why was his instinct telling him to go in that building.

"No, Ryuzaki. We'll all go in. He'd be less likely to shoot if he's unsure which one of us is L. You can't go in alone," Light implored.

"We don't know who else is in there. It could end up like the St Valentine's Day Massacre if we're not careful," Aizawa stated.

"Light, Ryuzaki is right. There's no need for you to go in. Stay in the car with Matsuda. Matsuda, keep the engine running," Soichiro said with such finality it nearly stunned Light into submission.

"No, Dad. L, please."

L looked troubled, and rightly so. Chances were that he and possibly the rest of the task force were about to be killed. He should pull back, but he couldn't sacrifice V like that. This was his fault. He told V in no uncertain terms to retrieve the book. He sent her into a slaughter and now that criminal had the book. There had to be some way around this. He was willing to accept responsibility for his failing, as long as the book somehow found its way into the team's hands. There was Light though. Light shouldn't be here.

"Ryuzaki, Wedy, and Aiber are at the back of the building. There's no way he can escape apart from the front entrance," Watari stated decisively. "It looks like the rest of his men are dead, but we can't be sure."

"Then Aizawa and Matsuda should stay here as back-up until the NPA arrive," L said. "Light-kun, if anything happens, you must leave immediately. Stay behind your father. Can I trust that you won't be heroic?"

"Can I trust you?" Light countered. "Just don't do anything stupid."

L's eyes hardened as he started towards the building, the rest followed closely. The metal door creaked open. No chance of a silent entrance. A single light, recently hung by the looks of it, was suspended in the centre of the cavity of the church. All pews, altars, tables and book had long since been removed or stacked against the walls to rot, leaving an wide-open, eerie space. A dull whistle of air ran through the hollow between the broken cracks in the stained glass windows which were caked in dirt. Almost directly underneath the light was a tall, stocky man grasping a girl by her hair. Light recognised the man as Yakuza boss, Yoshi Hashimoto. He'd come across his file during his research on mafia groups within Japan who could possibly be involved with or be targeted by Kira.

The team moved closer as one, closing the gap.

"Sending in little girls like this is rather foolish," Hashimoto spoke, he had a shrill, nasal voice which didn't suit his appearance. Aizawa was the last of the team to enter the building and he pushed the door closed behind him. It was impossible for them to see if there were any snipers with these ill-lit conditions. V struggled under the Hashimoto's firm grip. "She must be dispensable to you," he continued, quickly bringing up his revolver, shooting V in the temple and letting her limp body to drop heavily to the floor.

L made a slight move forwards until he saw the blood soak through V's hair and fill the channels between the tiles on the floor and pool out around her. Unseeing eyes shone brightly, still wet with tears and anger. Her skin already had a blue cast. It took L a moment to realise that Hashimoto's revolver was now aiming at him.

"So, you're L? I suppose that I should be flattered by the attention. You're not what I expected though, I must say. I hope this wasn't too important to you," he said, gestured to the prone body beneath him. "But you see, she killed some of my best men and nearly got hold of this. Couldn't have that," he said, pulling out a thin, rolled-up book from his jacket and inclined his head towards it.

"You're surrounded, Hashimoto. You can't escape. This is pointless," L said, looking towards V again.

"Yes, well. We'll see. Do you know what this is? I'm not sure you do. I'll tell you this, it's not my address book, though it is my little black book."

Light didn't know what possessed him but he saw the chance and sprang towards Hashimoto and the book in his hand. That book was important, he knew that much. Hashimoto, shocked by the sudden movement, turned towards Light and started pointing his gun directly at the youth. His motions were hindered by the bolt of pain running through his leg as Matsuda fired a bullet into the Hashimoto's thigh. Light reached out, one hand trying to catch hold on the man's gun arm and with the other he reached out to grab the book. As soon as his fingers grazed the surface of the paper his mind was shot through, not with a pain he'd felt before, but like he was being invaded and torn from the inside with flashing images and a bright yellow light. He gripped even harder on the book as a reflex, pulling it out of the surprised man's hand. Light fell to the floor next to V's body, his hand still curved around the book, the pages now tinted and slippery with the ruby red of the blood on the floor. As he took in the pictures flashing through his mind - too much, too fast, like a fast forward of a tape - he remembered, and wanted to laugh. He heard a click above him and lifted his eyes to see Hashimoto pointing a gun straight into his face.

"Shoot him, somebody!" Light shouted. It couldn't end now. Not like this. Almost in slow motion he saw Hashimoto turn from Light to the body of V at his feet.

"You fucking bitch," Hashimoto yelled at the corpse, as if she could hear him. He turned back towards Light, his eyes twitching with hatred. He tossed his gun to the floor and drew another from his waistband, aiming it towards the the boy at his feet who gripped the book like a trophy. "Give me my book back, kid," he ordered. Light instinctively covered his head defensively as Hashimoto clicked the gun's hammer back and squinted as he aimed.

Darkness. The feeling of being forced to the floor before the sound of a single gunshot followed by a stretch of gunfire from behind him. He felt the pressure of a heavy weight on top of him. Upon opening his eyes, he saw nothing, heightening the sense of warmth above and the cold of the stone floor beneath him. He turned his head to the left and the brightness of the bulb shining down directly above him stabbed painfully, blurring his vision. Pressing a hand to the floor he found it too slick to raise himself. He tried to force himself up but he was prevented by something which held him down.

When Light drew his hand across his eyes to shield them, he saw that it was dripping with a shining, viscous red. He looked down on himself in panic. His clothes were dark with blood. Whose blood? His head throbbed and his eye closed because of some irritant seeping into it. He rubbed his free arm against it and curled a little, like an embryo, growing, and waiting to be born.

The weight was lifted from Light and he was turned to see his father above him who cradling his head.

"Light, are you hurt?" Soichiro asked.

"I... I don't know," Light answered.

"Oh God, the blood!" someone crie, hysterically. Light recognised Matsuda's voice even as it fuzzed in and out of his hearing in a remembrance of the bullets and the tearing memories.

In the panic which followed, a sea of desperation sounded around the womb-like building like a play for voices. Light stared up at the lamp above his head, his eyes having now adjusted. It looked like a huge moon suspended, with darkness all around it. How strange. How detached he was from the screams around him. He could have been floating, he was so insanely happy in that moment that he had to stop himself from smiling.

"Ryuzaki? L? L!" Watari called. All the other voices merged.

"Matsuda, call an ambulance!"

"They're outside. They're coming."

"Fuck! Stop the bleeding!"

"Apply pressure here."

"Oh God, Ryuzaki."

Light pushed his father's arms away. Soichiro was only holding him back but Light didn't want anyone to touch him. Everyone was gathered around a body lying face up on the ground. Watari and Aizawa pressed their hands down onto his chest. He saw a glimpse of white before it was swallowed by the growing red stain.

And there was a fire.

It spread, leaping between the old wooden pews and the balcony. Flames licking the rafters, and soon the whole place was alight. It was purgatory. Paradise had been lost and regained.

"We have to get out here! Matsuda, there's no time. We have to get Ryuzaki out of here."

"We can't move him. He'll bleed out!"

"We have to."

"Light, Light we have to go!"

"No. No wait," Light muttered as he was suddenly, brutally dragged to stand on legs that didn't seem like his own. He saw Aiber rush to L while Wedy put a shoulder underneath Light's other arm. "No, wait!" Light cried, more forcefully now, turning behind him. The scene was blazing. The flames were a backdrop to the silhouettes, the edges illuminated like shadow puppets. L lay limp in Watari's arms like a pietà before Aiber and Aizawa helped lift his body and rushed him out of the building.

Don't die, you bastard, Light thought. He ran a hand underneath his sweater.

He'd dropped the Death Note.