A/N: This was a pain to write. And it wasn't because I was trying to cram the rest of the story into the prompts that were left either…
There's only one more Koji scene left for the final chapter. The rest will deal with the Koichi being kidnapped point.
Blank Note
41. Nine
Koji felt his heart skip a few beats, and unconsciously he counted the seconds of silence that followed. His father's grip on him had tightened. Nothing moved downstairs.
…seven…eight…nine…
'What was that?' It wasn't a voice he recognised that spoke, but that didn't matter.
'Koichi,' he mumbled. It had sounded like Koichi…but he had never heard Koichi scream before. 'Where's…Koichi?'
His father dragged him – possibly unintentionally – into his own room, pushing aside his curtains. Maybe he'd realised the same.
The street was empty. Glaringly bright, but empty.
'Hmm…I see.' The mysterious voice sounded a little amused, and repentant too. 'That's unfortunate; I do hope the Death Note at least is safe.'
The Death Note!
Koji quickly ripped himself away from his father's embrace and scanned the drawers again. No amount of raking them would change anything though; the Death Note was long gone.
His brother could have taken it – possible, if unlikely – but Koji knew who would have more to gain. Much more to gain.
'Ryuk!'
42. Attention
Kousei jumped as his son began screaming at, it appeared, thin air.
'Ryuk!'
Light footsteps came up the stairs; even Near's curiosity had piqued. Kousei was barely listening to that, instead watching his son yell wildly at some invisible force and finally collapse on his bed in tears.
Near said something after that – commented on the scene perhaps – but the father in Kousei was blocking that out. The father was remembering the time where he could hide two little babies in the crooks of his arms in thunderstorms while Tomoko huddled on her chest; somehow, both twins had inherited their mother's fear of lightning and thunder.
'Hush little babies, don't you ever cry…'
'…Papa's going to sing you a lul–la–by…' The lullaby they'd modified a long time ago tumbled from his lips. In a way it was like back then, when one of the twins would wake up from some terrible nightmare and a parent would be there to rock and sing them gently back to sleep. When they were both up and about, withering in night terrors, they would both take one and coax them together. Sometimes it resulted in all four of them crammed onto the rocking chair, and his knees would be aching the next day if they all fell asleep there, but it was worth it to see the little smiles that appeared in their sleep or hear their giggles as they tried to poke him awake.
But they were older, much older, and even then the twins demanded more attention than one man or woman could offer. And Koji was here – in his arms – and wherever Koichi was, whyever he had screamed, he couldn't just leave Koji in his state and find out, especially now that he had stopped screaming at this "Ryuk" and was now rocking gently in his embrace.
'Near,' he said quietly, his voice shaking. 'Please find Koichi.'
'We're already working on it,' was the robotic reply – though it didn't matter as long as his other son was found.
43. Instinct
Koichi could see nothing, but the sounds around him flittered between whispers and loud bangs and he wanted nothing more than for them to stop. Everyone had things they couldn't stand, couldn't abide, and his was exactly this, the state in which nothing could be seen, nothing determined save by the barest of human instinct –
And he couldn't stand that. It wasn't so easy, after all, to say he was still alive and awake because he could think, or that he was coherent because he could reply, or that he was still whole because his arms were wrapped around his legs, drawn to his chest in the cold.
He couldn't even say he was lost because he couldn't see his path…and the echoes of constant sound refused to settle. He cast his mind around, thinking of a warmer topic…but he knew, he had known for a long time, that he didn't have one. It was the choice he had made, and while it saved him from pain in other times it was period like this in which he had to suffer for it.
But what could he do if he hadn't found a reason to go on suffering?
44. Same
Near bit his thumb gently. Things had certainly taken a turn of late. The new Kira – though he wondered if it was appropriate to call the boy a Kira – had practically thrown himself into their laps, but the Death Note, the Shinigami and a civilian had vanished in the process.
He toyed with the idea that the elder twin had taken the Death Note himself, but decided against it. Near's specialty after all was profiling people, and he was sure that Koichi Kimura would not have taken the Note and then ran. Near didn't think he would have covered for the other either, or spilled the beans per say. It was a difficult decision to be in, and perhaps he had chosen to simply ignore the signs.
After all, the spot on a wall wasn't there if you didn't look at it.
In that way, they were different. But they both profiled people, judged them, stuck labels on them – and in that way, they were the same. It was certainly interesting to think how he would have grown as an orphan in Wammy's House. Another Light in that aspect; another person who could have been saved by the system, despite the ones that it had ultimately killed.
Because while Mello was dead, he had had years to train a new rival to play with Near, and what was left of his little gang in the Mafia had proven to have gained knowledge and skills superior to other gangs. They'd teased him from time to time and he had left them to do so; it entertained him after all, kept him on his toes…
But he had apparently underestimated their interest in the Death Note, for he would have taken extra precautions otherwise. Mello's successors were not Mello after all, just as L's successors were not the prowess of the original.
The entire case was dissatisfying. He'd found the perpetrator – an ordinary boy (though like anyone he had his extraordinariness). He'd lost the Death Note to an inferior rival. He'd found someone he could have come to like if they had met in different circumstances…and he had to wonder if this was how the original L had felt when he had met Light Yagami.
For a moment, he felt like Nate Rivers instead of Near, the third L.
45. Mask
He had seen this coming, known he was coming, but now that he had come he was barely thinking about it. He had killed people: idiotically, foolishly, and while he had regretted it he instead tried to cover his tracks, tried to keep himself alive…
He couldn't do that anymore, now that the Death Note was gone. He didn't need to think what he might have done, knowing the 13 day rule was fake. Except the lost chance for destroying it – but could he have done it?
He doubted it; if he could, he would have stopped after the first name.
He wanted his mask, the mask he had hid behind before he had met his friends: Takuya and Zoe and JP and Tommy. Before he had met a twin that managed to twist him at every turn. Back where he could push away his father and stepmother and pretend he never needed them. Back when he still had the pretence for being strong.
But that was all gone, shattered beyond repair because he had proven without a doubt he was weak. Weak enough to fight against the mercy offered; he couldn't stand the thought of what he had done now, so how could he face a sentence in jail, with only that to occupy his thoughts.
He needed the Death Note to forget as well, but somehow, he clung to that memory, because it would be even more cowardly to run away. If, by some miracle, he survived retribution… Well, what didn't destroy one made one stronger after all.
No-one could hear him anyway. Especially not the little feeble voice telling him he was missing a very important point.
At least his friends had managed to stay out of it…though he had dragged his family through the mud and lost his brother in the process.
Ryuk…
He couldn't blame the Shinigami, in the end. He wondered to the veiled threat he had left behind; it was probably another bluff.
Koichi…
Where was he? Hurt? Safe? …dead?
The cries were coming closer together.
