AN: Thanks for reviews. Sorry for the belated posting but my laptop just died on me and I had to begin almost from scratch. Nix, I used ten Tarot cards: The Fool, The Magician, The Moon, Death, The Hanged Man, The Tower, The Wheel of Fortune, The Emperor, Justice and The Judgment. Red Kitsune Flames, I'm glad you're enjoying the story, feel free to ask about anything you don't get. Pen name Kitsune chan I like to see stuck up fools brought down to their knees too. A few notes: I intend to profit from a certain ambiguity in the phrasing of the How To Use It DN's section. I'm going to interpret the word cannot in rule XXXVI to mean 'not allowed'. The word 'can' expresses ability and ability means the physical, mental or legal power to perform. The logical operator 'or' opens the door to multiple interpretations. As I understand it, the law bars the practice between Shinigami but doesn't explicitly qualify its feasibility. Don't expect anything graphic though. Second, in DN after Aizawa quitted L's team we saw he has two children. One was a baby in a stroller, I assumed he was a boy and made up his name. The names of Aizawa's wife and daughter come from DN's HTR13. I have to confess the wife is sort of a Mary Sue. She's based on some role models of mine and she's a list of so called feminine virtues that I admire. Finally, there's nothing so hard to describe as music, especially for a layman, which I am. So I'm not even going to try and I recommend you to listen to the melodies mentioned. There are links in my profile to some performances I like: Saint-Saëns Opus 40- Danse Macabre in Liszt's arrangement for piano played by Arcadi Volodos; Tartini's Sonata in G minor- 'The Devil's Trill' performed by Esther Kim; Schubert's String Quartet in D minor-Death and the Maiden performed by the Alban Berg Quartet and Paganini's Caprice No. 24 in A minor performed by Jascha Heifetz

Kira's Kingdom

Scroll 9: Facing the Music

9.1 Danse Macabre:

"Honor isn't about making the right choices. It's about dealing with the consequences." Midori Koto
"There are male and female gods of death, but it is neither permitted, nor possible, for them to have sexual relations with humans. The gods of death also cannot have sex with each other." From DN Volume 6- How to Use It: XXXVI

The Shinigami Realm, the Shinigami's King's Throne Hall, third day of the 108th Shinigami Synod:

The third day of the Synod started in a more austere fashion than the first day had. The Synod Examiners stood in silence with a severe look in their faces, their adornments and thrones all but forgotten. They met in private, for a family doesn't let its skeletons dance out of the closet when others are present.

In front of them was Zerhogie, the Shinigami who looked like a Sioux brave. Once he'd been one of them but now he stood a mere fifth rank. The Death Gods' black sheep felt the Synod's piercing eyes on him. But what he felt more acutely was how carefully Dalil Guillohrta avoided looking in his direction. The Destiny Odalisque had her gaze fixed on the ground, of what they had once shared all that remained was the shame.

In his mind he could picture himself grabbing her by the shoulders, shaking her and yelling: 'What I did, I did for you! Won't you at least look at me one last time?' All that stopped him from doing it was the knowledge that Galikareha would kill him before he was able to lay a finger on her.

Maybe it was better that way. It might make things easier. Last time he'd faced the Synod he'd left it defeated. Now he'd come to regain his honor. A part of him still cared that she approved. A part of him hoped that perhaps she'd feel for him something other than contempt. But those thoughts were precisely what'd led him to that moment. He was left with no choice.

'No, that's the only thing I have left: choice. I could've dragged eternally this half-existence. But now this will always be mine. I'm the only one who'll do it. And, if for nothing else, for this she'll remember me.'

The King of Death spoke: "Zerhogie, the Synod will ask you once more: Do you understand the consequences of your decision?"

He answered: "Yes."

"Do you come of your own free will?"

"Yes."

Then the Old Man turned to face the others: "Synod, now I ask of you: Do you believe this is the only option we have? Mi answer is yes. What's yours?"

The Six answered in unison: "Yes!"

"Are you prepared to face the consequences of accepting this sacrifice? For my part, I say yes," the King waited for their answer.

Only five voices responded: "Yes!"

Kinddara Guivelostain, who seldom spoke more than two words a year, opened his maw for the second time in a few days and said: "Dalil Guillortha, you doubt?"

Armonia Jastin Beyondllemanson said: "How can this be? We've discussed it and you agreed we didn't have a choice. If as we suspect they've found it, then this is our last hope!"

Nu interrupted him, her thousand eyes blinked: "Bejeweled Skeleton, the Destiny Odalisque has already answered she understands this might be our only hope. Her doubts are about if she's prepared to face the consequences of taking her kin's life. In this matter each of us must be free to decide. And perhaps we've all been too hasty in deciding we're ready to immolate one of our own for a chance to preserve our world. We should at least take some time to think out the matter carefully"

Meadra shone blue and nodded: "This is something each of us must think out thoroughly."

"Is that what you're asking for, my child, more time to decide?" said the Death King.

"Sire, there's no time to lose. I know it. But to be able to live with this I'd like to know why he is willing to do it."

For the first time she looked at him but she wasn't able to hold his gaze.

With a sad smile Zerhogie answered: "How can I answer to what I don't fully understand myself, Sire? Part of it has to do with the need I feel to clear my name, the rest are reasons I'd rather not discuss here. Will that suffice?"

The Synod pondered his words for a minute then Galikareha nodded and said: "No one was closer to Zerhogie than me before he was demoted. And I understand why the Destiny Odalisque doubts. But Zerhogie has come here to lay out his plan. He says he's willing. I don't need to know the reasons why he's doing it. If he'll do it, then he has my respect and my support."

The King of Death asked once more: "Then, tell me 108th Synod. Are you prepared to face the consequences of accepting this sacrifice?"

The answer was unanimous: "Yes!"

This time she looked straight into his eyes. What he saw in hers ran him through like a red hot iron.

"Now, before we proceed. Zerhogie, is there something you want to say."

He had promised himself that he'd remain silent. If she hadn't looked at him he might have: "Yes. I can finally say it out-loud. It's been on my mind ever since my trial. Back then the Synod decided that I should live since no rule had actually been broken. I've lived like a wretched disgrace, searching in the Books of Law for an end that didn't come from my own hand. I find it ironic that it is now that I finally understand the fairness of your decision to spare me that I've been delivered. Now that we stand on the brink of extinction, I have a chance to clear my name. But in a few seconds that will not longer be a concern to me. What's more, if this were the reason why I'm doing this; I would be mad to carry on, for I'm not longer ashamed of what I'm about to say: Dalil Guillortha, I've always loved you. Nothing in the Laws prohibits this and there's no reason why you or I shouldn't live in peace with that knowledge. So let all Shinigami remember that is not out of shame from vile lust that I sacrifice myself."

Then he looked at Dalil, silently telling her the real reason he had for doing it. He kept his back turned away from Galikareha's scythe, fixing her image in his mind. His eyes were still locked with hers when Zerhogie's head fell to the ground and his feathered headpiece rolled in the wind before turning to sand.

Using Zerhogie's fading energy the Old Man ripped the veil between life and death and took out from it the man who'd become their champion. Galikareha offered support to the King. Kinddara carried the man in his arms. Nu and Meadra followed them tending the champion who, like the King, was now covered in a shield of darkness. When Jastin offered his arm to Dalil she took it and followed the rest of the Synod holding her head high.

9.2 The Devil's Trill:

"We always long for the forbidden things, and desire what is denied us." François Rabelais.

Czech Republic, March 20th 2019; sundown at a rogue hangar near the silver mines of Kutná Hora:

"You want me to do what?" cried out Red.

"Why is it that none of you are able to understand me? Do I speak Swahili?" Black sounded exasperated to the point of murder. But then again, that seemed to be her usual frame of mind whenever she was forced to spend more than five minutes with Mac and Red.

"Of course you don't. If you did you'd understand what I mean when I call you mzungu mjinga."

Mac snorted: "Granted she isn't much of a lady, luv; but I dunno if you should call her crazy white man. How about calling her kingugwa mjinga?"

Black looked at Mac venomously: "Mzungu mjinga means crazy white person. Even I know that. And, in case you don't know it, person applies both to men and women. What's kingugwa?"

Red snorted: "Spotted hyena."

Black rolled her eyes: "I should've known it would be something stupid. Listen to me, you pair of dimwits, we've already lost too much time. So you," she looked at Red: "get under that table and you," she looked at Mac: "hit the road."

"Guess that means you aren't grateful, boss lady."

"Why should I be grateful?"

"Maybe 'cause I've skipped an exam so I could take you to the middle of nowhere to hunt for figments of your imagination. And I drove all night to reach Prague, 'cause when I left Brazil you sent me all the way to Vienna."

Black started speaking in the patronizing tone one uses to explain complex concepts to half-witted children: "College is only a cover to keep you out of trouble with Interpol. We need you to be close by, but not close enough to draw attention to us. And Vienna is hardly an exile; though it figures sending you there would be throwing pearls to the pigs. Plus, judging from your grades, you've only started to care about exams recently. Further more, we needed a private location but this is hardly the middle of nowhere. Kutná Hora is a UNESCO's World Heritage site. Finally, the only reason why you're here is because Miss 'I'm-so-rational' here says she doesn't 'believe' in driving and because I can't drive with my legs like this. You weren't supposed to know what we're doing here but Red can't keep her mouth shut. As for the 'figments of my imagination', Shinigami are real. I don't need your girl's machine to tell me one is coming. I have my own radar. The fur of my skin has been on edge all day. But that may be thanks to the bump in my head."

That woman had a way of driving Mac to the edge in seconds flat. He tried to control his temper, clenching his fist: "First, my grades are low 'cause I got better things to do than working my ass off to turn in idiotic papers and attend boring classes. The teachers are morons. Why would I want to listen to any of them indulging in an hour of self-praise and intellectual masturbation? I depend on exams for keeping my cover. I ace those. Second, I'm not your chauffer. I'm here for Red; she phoned telling me that she feared you were going to go rhino on her again. Third, your wounds are self inflicted so don't expect sympathy from me. I don't give a damn about how you get your trills," he coughed: "Cutter pervert," then he continued: "And, you weren't like this before your 'accident'? Maybe a second bump in the head will help."

Red sighed looking from one to the other, bickering was so stressful. She held Mac by the hand and gave him a small reassuring squeeze that made him look at her with a smile: "Nope, hon. That won't fly, she's always been like this." Then she turned around to face Black and said: "It's not like I think cars are devil machines or that I can't drive. It's just I don't wanna do anything that according to the NSC has 1 in 84 chances of leading to death."

"Cor! And how are you supposed to go from one place to another?

"I have two legs, you know? But when I don't want to use those, I use my bike for short distances and a plane for longer distances. That's 1 in 4,919 chances of dying and 1 in 5,051 respectively."

"Who comes up with those bollocks? Don't answer, dear, that's a rhetorical question. And I think those statistics apply to passengers as well as drivers. So you've risked your life just by boarding your knight's steed, more so because the knight in question has a fixation for dangerously fast cars."

"I trust Mac."

"Hah! And I'm the one who's crazy. By the way, what exactly did you meant by me going rhino again, John?"

Mac cried out: "Woman, that's not a car! That's THE car: an Enzo Ferrari 2003. That's a V12. It has a carbon-fiber body, F1-style sequential shift transmission with a shift time of just 150 milliseconds and carbon-ceramic Brembo disc brakes. It uses active aerodynamics. After a downforce of 1709 lb is reached at 186 mph the rear wing is actuated by computer to maintain it. It can accelerate to 60 mph in 3.14 seconds, reach 100 mph in 6.6 seconds and the top speed is estimated at 217 mph. Maybe is not as fast as the Koenigsegg CCX but this has style, baby. And in case you don't know it, again means you've already gone rhino and then you went once more."

"Just what I needed: another tech freak. You lost me after the Ferrari 2000 whatever. I don't give a damn about your car or about how you compensate for your Freudian shortcomings," she coughed: "Phallic proxy," then she continued: "I know what again means and, on second thought, I've heard more than enough from you. Grab your boy toy and go wait by the curve, James." She finished purposefully mistaking his name with a smug smile.

He pulled out a gun and pointed it at her. Black, who was expecting something of the sort, grabbed Red and placed her dagger on the girl's throat.

Mac smiled defiantly: "You're one to talk. What's that badass plane you keep here, phallic envy or a Napoleon complex?"

She matched his smile: "Says the boy with the small brain and the big gun, is that even loaded or do you carry it around to impress the 'babes'?"

"Midget"

"Arsehole"

Red was once more in the center of a Mexican standoff that had degenerated into a name-calling match. And she sure as hell wasn't enjoying the experience: "Crap! This is what he means by going rhino again. You've done it thrice!" She pouted and counted with her fingers: "One, when Kira smacked you in the head. Two, on the way down here when we missed that truck by inches and you wanted to make Mac slow down; even though you were the one who'd told him to step on it in the first place. And now, it makes three. You know you can't kill me because of Galileo so put the knife away. And you, Mac, the big boss will have your hide if you so much as mess the hair of this psycho, so lower your gun. Play nice children. Remember we've got bigger fish to fry."

They did as Red said and Black commented: "Finally, something coherent comes out from your mouth. For the record, that's not just any airplane. That is THE plane. That's a British Harrier, the longest-serving combat aircraft of the modern era. This one has a Rolls-Royce Pegasus 105, with 21,750lb vectored-thrust turbofan. It has four exhaust nozzles which make it capable of vertical or short take off. Plus, listen to this lover boy, its maximum speed is 662 mph. To put it in the schoolyard lingo you're likely to understand: 'Mine is way better than yours.' You'll probably need a private moment, go cry in your car." she turned towards Red: "Now quit the yakking girl, get down on all fours and crawl under that table."

Red shrugged her nose: "Yeah, yeah, Rule Britannia. But no, I'm not going down there. It's filthy."

"Lord, grant me patience. It's not filthy, I've clean it myself."

"There are oil stains all over the floor and I've witnessed what you call cleaning. I don't wanna die like that."

"You've got 10 seconds to crawl down there or tell me exactly how you want to die and I'll grant your deepest darkest. One, two, three, four..."

Red bit her lower lip, looking reluctantly at the space underneath the table.

Mac said: "I'll do it."

Red looked at him with puppy eyes: "You would?"

"Aw! How gallant. You two are pathetic. And he can't. If we manage to get a hold of the Note, I don't want him as the owner."

"He doesn't have to be. I'll go wait in the car and the moment you have it, I'll come. Here, I have some transmitters in my pocket, they're really small and Mr. Reaper won't notice."

"From Kira's stories we know Shinigami can locate hidden devices if they look for them, we can't risk it. It's going to be hard enough keeping the Reaper distracted so it doesn't notice what's under the table. And we've only brought one mask. Have you grown a backbone all of the sudden, Red?"

Mac didn't let her answer: "It'll be a loaner. Or you can keep it. For what Red tells me those things are supposed to bring bad mojo to the owners. If we get lucky we might lose you."

Black smacked her lips: "We don't have time for this. The Reaper is due any minute now. I can feel it. You're on," she turned around and poked Mac's chest with her forefinger, then she said to Red: "We'll make your boyfriend a believer. Debrief him while you hide that conspicuous car of his and I'll look for a canvas to cover the table."

As they walked to the car Red told him what he had to do, being adamant on the fact he had to draw blood or it might not work. She opened her backpack and handed him a fountain pen with a pointy nib and piston filler. Then she went into a very graphic description of how he was supposed to fill it. And then she gave him a compass, a piece of paper with something written over a weird drawing, a bag of apples and a dog plastic mask which she claimed he should wear for his own protection.

Mac looked at it all and exclaimed: "Whoa! Luv, I'm not sure of what we're talking here. But before you start again let me tell you: I'm sure that bitch's friends, if she has them, enjoy her satanic dominatrix act. Hey, when she keeps her mouth shut she's not hard on the eyes. And I'm no saint. I've been known to have some odd cravings. But I've my standards, there are a couple of things that I'm not willing to do. And I can't see what this has to do with bringing about Kira's Kingdom."

Red burst in laughter: "Oh Mac, you know I wouldn't ask you to do anything wicked… with anyone else but me." She winked: "Come, we can't make her wait. I'll explain this slowly and then we'll go through the Latin. Pronounce it carefully but keep your voice low or our guest will notice you're there. This is serious business. Believe me; you don't wanna face Kira if we fail on this one. Take care."

9.3 Death and the Maiden

"Always forgive your enemies, but never forget their names." John F. Kennedy

Czech Republic, March 20th 2019; a rogue hangar near Kutná Hora:

"I'm a Death God. I've been looking for you."

Mac was startled by the guest, a blue version of Edward Scissorhands on steroids. As Red had told him he'd been grabbing Black's ankle to be able to see him. And he'd squeezed Black a little too hard. The bitch stepped on his other hand and he had to bite his tongue not to yelp. Nevertheless, he had a new found respect for the little lady, both because she was standing like it was a picnic with her legs cut to shreds and because she was as cool as a cucumber in the face of the monster. Mac couldn't help wondering exactly for whom he had been working for the past year -if the blue guy was his boss' kin that would explain why Kira didn't like to be seen in public.

"I know who you are. I knew you were coming. And I wanted to meet you somewhere private, even if I know no one else can see you." Black explained.

"You knew I was coming?"

"Not you in particular. I don't think we've been properly introduced. But, given what I am, one of you was going to come sooner or later."

He frowned: "But you knew I was coming now because you left Prague in a hurry."

'Aha! He's smarter than he looks. But not smart enough, I just have to keep him talking while lover boy does his part.' Black nodded: "Yes. Are you wondering how I knew? Are you expecting a monologue? 'Mr. Shinigami, my evil plot is so very clever I can't wait to tell you, maw-ha-ha-ha.'"

He scratched his head: "Isn't that done right before the villain tries to kill the hero?"

"You don't have to worry because I'm not a villainess and I can't kill you, can I?"

"No, you can't."

"And in any case, it's really all very technical and boring, so why don't we skip it. I'd rather talk about what you're doing here."

"Who cares for boring stuff? And you know why I'm here."

The blue guy grabbed her arm half lifting her lithe frame off the ground and Mac wondered if he should try to do something. For what Red had said he couldn't kill 'the guest' with a gun, but his mom had raised a gentleman. Then the boss lady laughed and he decided that he'd better hurry up with the spell.

"My, so forward, and on the very first date... I'm sorry to disappoint you but grabbing me won't work. I'm my own person. You can't have me if I don't want you to."

The Shinigami's eyes gave out a blue light: "Are you sure?"

What he'd said about boring stuff and the way he'd said that last line made something inside Black's head click: "You're not questioning the fact you can't appropriate me, are you? You're thinking about him. He doesn't own me either."

"I dunno who you're talking about."

"Oh you do. And you're afraid."

"I'm not afraid."

"You're a liar, Shinigami. And you're quite right to be scared. Especially since you can't be sure Kira isn't here. This might be a trap. You know how smart he is. I might've put up a big act of being alone to get you here. He might even be right behind you and you wouldn't know. Or maybe you would now that you've touched me."

He turned around wide-eyed. He was really scared and that made Black confirm her suspicions.

"Judases' consciences make for scaredy cats. I bet you'd wish you were anywhere else but here, don't you Ryuk? That makes me wonder why you're here at all. Who sent you?" Black smiled, the death god was good. He hadn't even flinched when she'd said his name.

"Why would I tell you anything?" He spread out his wings, tried to fly and couldn't.

"Mayhap because you don't have much choice, either you sing for me or we'll wait for Kira to come. I bet he's going to be trilled to see you there like a rat in a mousetrap. Yes, he's going to be so happy that we'll have us a party."

"Let me go or I'll kill you."

"Is that supposed to scare me? Quoting your own rules: 'The owner of the Death Note cannot be killed by a god of death who is living in the world of the gods of death. Also, a god of death who comes to the human world with the objective to kill the owner of the Death Note will not be able to do so. Only a god of death that has passed on their Death Note to a human is able to kill the owner of the Death Note.' Do you happen to have a spare you can give out so then you can try and kill me?"

"How do you know the rules?"

"You're a curious little imp, aren't you? But I'll tell you, as homage to movie villains everywhere, even if you aren't much of a hero. One of your own let the proverbial cat out of the bag and one of my own was clever enough to catch it on paper. Then it traveled down the river of time and I fished it out a few years back. It took forever to translate that mismatched Coptic, but I managed. Now I'll ask once more: Who sent you?"

Ryuk sat crossing his legs, shut his mouth and looked the other way.

Black leaned towards him, keeping just out of the seal: "We can wait 'til you drop dead."

Ryuk looked at her, even sited his eyes were at her eyes level. For such a small mortal she sure was a bundle: "Hyuk, hyuk, you'll go first. Before coming, I got myself about three hundred years."

Her father had told her that you catch more flies with honey than with vinegar. She'd brought something in case another apples' fan came to her. She decided she was going to profit from her good luck: "Well then, you won't mind if first I have lunch. I haven't eaten since yesterday evening."

She pulled the tablecloth off the table and signaled Mac: "This is Johnny Appleseed. Come out of there, Johnny." She whistled and snapped her fingers.

Mac crawled from under the table, wearing the ridiculous dog mask. He blushed underneath it when the blue guy chuckled and said: "That's not your puppy's real name."

Black said: "That's a guess. You can't see his name while he wears the mask."

"Yes, the rules speak about the Death God's eyes. But how do you know that they don't apply exclusively to humans with the power?"

"I don't and I don't care. Plus if you're thinking of using the pup as a hostage I'll tell you that I'll clap while you choke him."

"Now I know why Light chose you."

"Johnny, please tell our guest what you have in that bag."

Mac felt like an actor who doesn't know his lines. He looked at Black crossly from behind the mask and said: "I've got apples."

"That's right. A plethora of them," she opened the bag and showed Ryuk, "we have red, green and yellow apples. One for every taste: the ever popular McIntosh, so tender. The iconical Red Delicious, crisp enough to tempt Snow White. The tart Granny Smith and the sprightlier Golden Delicious, the spicy Winesap and we also brought all the Jonathan family" she took out one, "but my personal favorite is the Gala. See how the yellow skin is finely striped with red? As if it'd been painted by Salvador Dalí himself. This darling may look like a peach but it has character. I dare you to take a bite from a Gala and not think it's the best bloody apple you've ever tasted in your life," she took a bite, "Oh and look at that creamy yellow flesh, it's so dense. It's so sweet and so juicy it drips when you bite it," she licked the juice off her hand and then took another bite, "and that smell makes me heady. Would you want to try it?"

Black wasn't offering it to Ryuk, she had her arm extended towards Mac. At first he was reluctant to literally eat of the bitch's hand, but after a look at the blue guy he took a bite. Whatever the witch was trying to do, it was working. The blue guy was drooling. His eyes had that eager look Mac had seen so often in Tareyja's eyes. The same kind of look that up until last year -when he'd gone cold turkey- he'd also seen staring back from the mirror. He thought: 'That guy has a monkey on his back and hasn't fed the bastard in some time.'

Mac smiled: "That's a real good apple. And I don't even like apples. I'll have another bite if you'll give it to me."

"That's a really good apple" corrected him Black, "and don't be shy, grab one. We have a bagful."

Mac took out the reddest apple from the bag, gave it a big crunchy bite and heard the blue guy moan.

Black turned around covering her mouth with fake shock: "Oh my, how ill-mannered of us. We've forgotten to offer some to our guest."

She walked towards Ryuk, carrying an apple in each hand: "But that's because our guest has been very rude. We've asked him one very simple question and he's refused to answer. Have you changed your mind?"

"The Synod sent me. That's all I can tell you. I'll have an apple now."

"Na-ah, you aren't the one who gets to decide when you've told me enough. And you'll only get an apple if you're a good death god."

That blue guy wasn't going to be easy to break. Mac knew it when he saw him stiffening: "I'm not opening my mouth until you give it to me."

"That's the wrong answer. Maybe I can't wait for three hundred years to see you die, little god, but you'll beg to be fed way before that."

"I don't need to eat."

"Is that so? I wonder how long it'd take for you to eat apples from my hand once you start twisting like a pretzel and doing handstands."

"You're just toying with me. I'm not talking to you anymore."

"Aw, the little baby wants to cry." Black started dancing around the blue guy with her skirt billowing about her. From what Mac'd seen of her legs it was a marvel she could stand at all. That crazy bitch had balls.

She was keeping the apples just out of reach from the blue guy and chanting: "We're going to make Death your bride: Something old, something new; something borrowed, something blue; and a silver six pence on her shoe. We'll make that a tuppence and you'll save it for the ferryman."

"I won't die from this."

Black laughed: "I know that. But you're going to wish you could. Not only because you won't have any apples but because you'll be alone between drab grey walls with nothing to do but sulk. You're a gambler, aren't you? Why don't we make a bet? Which do you gather will drive you mad first: withdrawal or boredom?"

The blue guy was trembling and Mac could bet it was from anger. Ryuk said through clenched fangs: "You'll pay for this."

She raised an eyebrow: "How? You can't get loose and the only way you can kill me is if you give away your Note. I'll make sure that only people loyal to Kira come here. People you can not bribe or scare into doing what you want. Plus things have changed from the last time you were here. That's the only Note you've got and if you give it away, you'll be helpless. And even if you managed to escape you can't lay a hand on me or you'll get the extreme punishment and you'll automatically crumble to dust. Quite the conundrum, isn't it? But you aren't going to have time to work on it. Kira's coming. If you cooperate with me I might convince him to throw some crumbs your way once in a while. Talk! And you'd better make it worth my troubles, because right now you'd need a miracle to save you."

Mac hit her with the apple bag and she fell to the ground, unconscious. Then he rolled her out of the way with his boot saying: "I'll help you with that, man."

"Why?" Ryuk was looking at him through narrowed eyes.

Mac gave him his best smile: "'Cause I sorta like you, us junkies have to stick together. That's one nasty monkey you're carrying around. Been there, done that. And 'cause I'm only loyal to myself. You have something I want. I don't think I'll get another chance to get my hands on a Note."

"I can't let you touch my Death Note. As she said, I'll die if I don't have one."

"Hey, it's only a loan, man."

"How do I know you'll give it back?"

He took off the dog mask: "Here. You see my name? The man I want to kill is called Grisha. We share the same surname. I can't do it without the Death Note or I'll never escape his gang's revenge. You can't do it 'cause you've never seen him and I don't carry a picture of my dad in my wallet. I know you won't kill me now 'cause if you do you'll have to face Kira. And I need more than one page. After I finish with daddykins I need to deal with his enemies. That's a long list. Also I need to kill the guys who'll remain loyal to him after he dies, that list is shorter. But anyway, with your Note I'll make my way to the top easier with a couple of those bastards dying from STDs, cancer or the like every few years. I don't know exactly how I can free you, but I have access to this bitch's scrolls and I can find that out too. Plus in case Kira gets here before we can get you out you can pretend you hid your Note before coming… That'll give you an edge. And I'll kill this crazy bitch for you. We'll make it look like an accident. There's another girl around here, ya know, but she'll say whatever I tell her to." Mac's smile widened.

Ryuk snorted: "Quite the ladies man, ain't you? How do I know I can trust you or this other girl?"

Mac: "I'm not stupid enough to think that no girl can resist me. But this one in particular won't tell on me. And you can trust me 'cause you know my name and you're gonna keep half the pages to guarantee my good behavior."

"That's all very interesting but you still haven't answered my question. Why are you doing this?"

"Listen, she's going to be out for a while and she wasn't able to call the big boss so he doesn't know where we are and it'll take him some time to figure it out. I'll tell you a story so you know you can trust me: Once upon a time there was a beautiful princess, everyone loved her. That was her curse. When her father died, she became Queen and had no choice but to marry her douchebag cousin, a duke, to deal with her dad's numerous enemies. The Duke had always wanted to become king and thought he deserved it 'cause his dad had been one before he died and the crown passed to his uncle.

"All his life he'd watched the princess prancing about without giving him so much as a look. So he enjoyed humiliating her, especially at nightfall when they were alone. That's when he turned into a monster and the Queen had nowhere to run. So she picked up a bottle of magic juice to ease up the pain and turned into a monster too. But she was the sort of monster that just lies there while people, including her, get hurt. And during the days she still was the Queen. She bore the Duke a son and despite everything she loved the little Prince dearly.

"The Prince loved her too. But there are some things that the love of a little prince won't do for a queen. Then one day a knight who'd been away from the court from some time came back. The Queen and the Knight were childhood friends and when he came back they renewed their friendship. But they weren't children anymore and their friendship wasn't quite the same. You can imagine that if the little Prince noticed, anyone could.

"The King was furious, but he couldn't confront the Queen and save face. So first he sent the Knight after a dragon that was called Invincible. The dragon lived up to its name and the Knight didn't come back. The Queen began using the magic juice even during the days. That's when the King approached her saying that she had a problem and that he'll help her deal with it. He told her he'd met a magician who could brew a magic potion that'd stop the Queen from turning into a fulltime monster.

"It doesn't take a genius to guess what the potion gimmick was really about. For three months the little Prince sat through every meal, from breakfast to dinner, watching his mom swallow her death with resignation. And that's when he decided he was going to kill daddy in a way in which he couldn't be blamed. The Prince would wait for the King to be in his deathbed to whisper in his ear that he knew it all, that he was killing him for it and taking his kingdom away from him. He was also planning to say that the knight hadn't been the first and he was going to fabricate proof that he wasn't the king's son."

"But, as usual, some things are easier said than done. The Prince tried to find a way to avenge the Queen that didn't get him killed and couldn't. That's when the world changed. Justice came back from the moon in the guise of a faceless god that called himself Killer. He came with the wrath of a lion, striking down all the sinners. Oh how the little Prince used to pray for the killer god to notice his father's sins. But just as suddenly as Justice came, it disappeared without a trace. Bet it was unionized. When it came back the Prince promised he'd find a way of making the Killer god see that his dad didn't deserve to live. Guess now we all know what good praying does to anyone. There might still be a chance for the Prince to have what he wants, though. He has grown up to be a crafty bastard Rogue who might find a way of stealing his happy ending."

The blue guy sized Mac up.

Mac let him and then he said: "So what's it gonna be, man. Do we have a deal?"

Ryuk, who was a very good liar, could spot falsehood from a mile. The guy was sterling. The story was his and he desperately wanted to kill his father and avenge his mother. He nodded and gave Mac a book with skulls, after tearing some pages from it.

That's when Black pushed a button and drenched him with acid from a cube that'd been hanging over the plane. The Shinigami had been too caught up in the tale to notice when it had started to move down a rail. The acid from the cube did nothing to Ryuk but it destroyed the pages he was holding in his hands.

Black smiled sweetly: "I thought that'd happen. From the moment a human touches the Death Note it becomes a part of the mortal world. My dear Ryuk, you've been had. Now in other order of business," she turned around with the smile still on her face and punched Mac in the face.

Mac rubbed his chin and cried out: "Hey! What was that for?"

"The kick wasn't a part of the plan. The next time you feel the need to improvise, I'll neuter you"

"I was in the moment. And I didn't kick you. I rolled you out of the way. You pack a mean right hook, midget."

"Bollocks! Now wait here and keep an eye on him while I go have some lunch."

"Isn't your spell supposed to take care of that? I just gave an effing Oscar performance and you aren't even gonna ask if I want something to eat too?"

"Hah, Like I care! And a word of advice, don't quit the day job. I'd trouble keeping it down during that sob story of yours. Talk about overacting. I thought I was going to burst a rib laughing. But I guess you weren't worst than the guys on the telly. So after we're done, I'll let Red bring you the leftovers"

She strutted out haughtily and Mac gave her the finger as soon as she'd turned her back around.

Ryuk chuckled.

"What are you laughing at?"

"Females"

Mac sighed: "Yours too? Crap! Now we have to wait here. I hope you know this wasn't personal, man. I've already struck a deal with the devil for my father's life. And even among crooks there are some rules. For now I'm with Kira. No hard feelings?"

"I understand. And I hope you understand that as soon as I'm out of here you're dead. Nothing personal, man," said Ryuk showing his pointy teeth.

Mac shrugged: "Business as usual. Hey, do they play poker where you come from?"

"We have chance games and I've seen poker games on TV."

Mac took out a pack of cards from his pocket: "Wanna play?"

"Don't have nuthing to bet with."

"Tell you what, if I win I get a question about Notes answered and if you win you get an apple."

"How do you know I won't lie?"

"I don't, just as you don't know if I'll really give you an apple. But it helps pass the time."

They both had shark-like smiles when Mac started dealing the cards.

9.4 Caprice

"A reasonable man adapts himself to suit his environment. An unreasonable man persists in attempting to adapt his environment to suit himself. Therefore, all progress depends on the unreasonable man." George Bernard Shaw

U.S. Nevada, the Mojave desert, April 18th 2019, in a safe house near the town of Mesquite:

Suichi Aizawa had trouble sleeping in a bed other than his. Especially with Near in the same room. The detective insisted on living between plain white walls. Save for the toys and gadgets littering the floor, his room had the sterile feel hospitals and morgues do. To make matters worst, he left the light on and didn't make a sound. He was so pale that when he was motionless he looked like a corpse.

Aizawa was used to listening to his wife lightly snoring under the cozy darkness of their kakebuton. That was one of the few gestures of boldness Eriko had showed when it came to interior décor. In what was otherwise a very minimalist household, she had picked up a kobana sakura design for the futon. He smiled at the thought of it and then he sighed. Maybe his troubles falling asleep had more to do with missing the woman he'd slept with for nearly twenty years. So rather than lying awake in Near's stark white room, he'd offered to take over surveillance's duty during the nightshift. He looked at the monitors. It was around midnight and some of the kids where still awake in their cells.

Though by now he'd trouble thinking about them as kids. He'd seen few people who'd be able to endure imprisonment with such composure. Their teachers had caved in on the first few days. They had been moved to a separate wing by request of their own alumni, who claimed no one could live with all their whining.

Except for the first initial outburst the children have been unnaturally calmed. The first day they'd found the cameras after a few minutes of searching for them. They said that they weren't Kira's agents looking towards the lenses. Some even demanded to be let out so they could prove it and help with the investigation. Then some of the others had started a riot. They yelled that they were sitting ducks there. They said that the investigation was obviously led by an idiot who'd let their names leak out and brought them into a death trap. They demanded to be let out because they were the true heirs to L's name.

Then Near had talked to each one of them through the speakers. They'd ended up agreeing that, for the time being, there was no way to prove they weren't on Kira's side. Near asked for some time to figure it out, surprisingly they had agreed.

From then on some of them had asked for books and assorted games and toys. Those passed their times quietly while trying to think their way out of the cells. Watching them was disturbing. But those who were the hardest to swallow were the ones who had come up with an impromptu competition to make the guards lose it. They kept track of each other's activities and asked the guards watching the monitors to help them keep the score in the name of 'fair play'. How they managed to communicate with each other locked inside stripped down cells where not even metallic spoons were allowed was a mystery that Near hadn't bothered trying to solve. The detective thought that as long as they couldn't escape there was no harm in them chatting amongst themselves.

Aizawa begged to disagree. The kids had managed to make trained FBI and CIA agents reveal personal information and had thrown it back transformed in bone chilling menaces and dirty songs. In most cases their little quips hit the bullseye.

Take for example the couple of guards that had been faced with twenty six kids who woke up in the middle of the night, sat in their beds and started singing to the top of their lungs a song about the affair one of them had with the other's wife. The words they sang in perfect unison to the music of humpty dumpty would have made a drunken sailor blush. The most shocking part was that apparently what they said about the fickle wife's habits was true. The FBI task leader wanted to know how they'd found out about the dirty details. Aizawa was more interested in finding out how they'd known when the two men were going to be doing a shift together.

Some of Gevanni's men had to be transferred for fear they might end up committing infanticide. The victims included a veteran who had guarded at least 9 of the most unsavory mobsters of all times while they waited for their chance to stab their former employers' backs in the witness stand. It had taken three agents to drag him away to an early retirement while he shouted that now he understood what King Herod was thinking. The man, who was an old school republican, had tried to strangle a ten year old French boy who'd after a week of acting suspiciously friendly towards his guards had looked up at the camera and requested in a polite fluty voice a change in the guard's shifts because his bladder was about to burst and he just couldn't feel safe with the old fag looking at him in such a dirty way while he peed. At first the veteran had stood frozen but then the meaning of the boys words sunk in and he had made a move towards him. The boy had looked at the camera once more saying that they should hurry up before the FBI had a statutory rape demand on its hands. That had pushed the FBI veteran over the edge. But the boy, a strawberry blond called Serge, hadn't lost his cool, not even when a man that was at least two and a half feet taller than him, and who had been professionally trained to kill, had his hands around his neck. The feat had been all the other kids talked about for several days and had granted the boy the dubious honor of becoming the score leader of their sick little game.

With all the different strategies each kid had chosen to pass the time, the fact remained that after a month of imprisonment all of them were eerily cool -even the youngest. The same couldn't be said about the guards. The safe house had earned itself a reputation of being a place most smart agents wanted to avoid at all cost. The order that Near had given of avoiding all further communication with the kids hadn't prevented the Wammy's from finding ways to keep their contest going.

Now Near said he might have a solution. Watari had found a woman who'd been doing research with MRI based brain scanners. This was the latest in lie-detection. Some said there was no way to beat it. As long as there was awareness of being untruthful the brain activity would show in the pictures.

The reformed SPK hadn't agreed with having the kids in cells but there wasn't much choice. Now there was also disagreement with the proposal that as soon as possible the woman would come with her equipment to run tests on the kids. Of course, the evidence gathered by it wouldn't stand in court.

Near ran the idea by the kids. They were quite interested by the notion. Some even asked if it'd work if Kira was able to induce memory losses as seemed to be the case with Misa Amane. Near said he'd already thought about it and didn't think the trick would work on people who hadn't owned a Death Note. If DN owners could induce memory losses on just about anyone then they wouldn't have been able to catch the first Kira.

Plus he doubted all Kira's agents had a DN. If Kira had access to an unlimited amount of Notes he would have used them. But Kira was using the same MO as the first time so it was safe to assume that he had access to a limited supply of DNs, if he had more than one. So he probably wouldn't risk giving them out indiscriminately. The suspects' belongings had been searched thoroughly and nothing had been found. Hence Near thought there was less than 2 percent probability that the moles were DN users. The moles might pretend to have lost their memory to try to escape the judicial consequences of their actions, but doing it right after finding about the brain scanning test would be a dead giveaway. The kids agreed with that reasoning.

And that brings us to the second reason why Aizawa couldn't sleep. B, who was usually of the same opinion as Near, had opposed the idea of the MRI brain scanning fiercely.

The objections she posed were reasonable enough. Turns out she had a criminal psychology degree and she said MRI lie-detection depends on the assumption some scientists make that lying is more cognitively complex than telling the truth, and therefore it activates more of the brain. But she said that like the physiological changes monitored during polygraph tests, the brain-activity patterns measured during MRI are not specific to deception, making it challenging to identify the particular pattern of a lie. And the kids had been subjected to a lot of stress so there was no telling how that'd affect the results. Furthermore, after seeing their response to imprisonment, she doubted a technique that was in the developmental stage and that depended heavily on testing done on a wider population, would serve to test subjects that varied so widely from the mean. In the end they'd cast a vote and reached a stalemate.

It was all very reasonable, except it wasn't. Aizawa agreed that the subjects weren't common, but anything that'd help them narrowing down the number of children in cells sounded good to him. He didn't understand why she wasn't able to see that. So from that day he'd kept an eye on the blonde.

She seemed to be dealing with stress better than the rest of the SPK. Aizawa had said it out-loud and then Matsuda commented that she'd started wearing make up, then he'd added with dreamy eyes that it helped though she didn't really needed it.

Granted, Aizawa knew that he wasn't anything like Light or L had been. And he wasn't closer to be like Near. But he was a good cop and had learnt to trust his instincts. The woman was too cool to be true. He got the feeling something was wrong. 'All around she's too perfect', he thought.

But what bothered him the most was that he wasn't able to figure out her relationship with Near. It'd started with the kiss they'd witnessed. It'd been shocking to see Near act so emotionally but seen her had been a revelation. She had merely tolerated it. At first he thought that maybe she was shy. Eriko didn't like it when he kissed her in public. But if she'd just experienced a close call she would've responded more enthusiastically. And they'd been married for far longer than those two had. Plus if he'd suggested right afterwards that they wouldn't share a bedroom for an indefinite period of time, Eriko would've killed him.

He thought about the last time they'd pursued Kira. Back then their children had been little and there'd been some stress in their relationship because he'd suggested living in L's HQ. After showing up one morning to work with a Band-Aid on his forehead, from a vase she had thrown at him, he'd ended up commuting back home every night. He couldn't blame Eriko. Being a cop's wife isn't easy. He doubted that the fact that B did the same work as Near would change that. Without love, sticking together was almost impossible. You just had to look at the amount of divorced cops that appeared in his employee files. Some of them had been cops married to cops.

He was aware that people stay married for all sorts of reasons, other than love, but he couldn't think of any to explain why those two were together. Something told him that both of them were perfectly capable of working well together after having a divorce.

Part of him wondered if his suspicions had something to do with the fact that B reminded him of a girlfriend who'd ripped out his heart when he was young. The girl had been one of those females that are the embodiment of everything boys fantasy about in their darkened bedrooms. Back then he was just a young man starting in the academy and all he had was ambition and determination. He just couldn't believe his good luck and he used to hold her tightly while they slept, as if he feared she would just vanish in a puff of smoke. Turns out his fears were well justified. She had little patience and very expensive tastes. That was an unfortunate combination and she'd left him for a rich guy.

That would've been bad enough. But the girl had finished her nasty job one Saturday when she'd come knocking on the door of his crummy apartment at one o'clock in the morning. She'd come with a big smile, a small suitcase and a smaller dress. As he was letting her in she'd pointed out through the window and showed him a brand new convertible. She'd said her husband was out of town and she'd come to take him away for the weekend, all expenses covered by the guy's credit card.

At first he'd stood in shock, appalled at the thought that after two years of bedding the slut neither of them had really gotten to know each other. He let a minute of silence go by, remembering the hours he'd wasted picturing the two of them growing old together. Then he'd escorted her out and shut the door on her pretty nose. He'd never thought of himself as someone naïve. He came from a long line of cops and that tends to open your eyes to the nastiness of this world at an early age. But he could pinpoint that as the exact minute when he'd been stripped from the last vestige of innocence he had.

After some soul-searching he'd reached the conclusion that, even though he still remembered the affair with bitterness, it wasn't affecting his judgment. In all frankness it didn't even hurt in the same way it had. The experience had left him with knowledge and up to a point he felt grateful for it. He'd learnt that there comes a time in the life of every man when he feels like twisting someone's neck until the last breath escapes their body. He'd also learnt that he was the sort of man who could bite down the anger and move on with his life without soiling his hands. He saw the episode as part of the rocky road that had taken him to adulthood; as one of his friends loved to say: there are no virgins, life has screwed us all. Plus it'd happened ages ago, before he met Eriko, the pigheaded gal who had thrown a vase at his head to prevent him from missing all the important landmarks in his children's life.

Eriko was a woman who didn't doubt to speak up her mind when she felt she needed to. She was the sort of gal who could pick up her crying husband from the floor in a park, comfort him, drive him home and, ten minutes later, have a half whispered discussion in the kitchen that had ended with her asking: "What can you do? What can you really do, without losing your self respect and without taking the bread away from our children's mouth?"

"Try to help while working for the police."

"Then you do that and stop crying. You're scaring the kids."

Brave Eriko, who a few months later had listened evenly to his voice through the phone saying what could have very well been a goodbye.

"We have him. They are chasing after him and I'm going." He listened to the silence in the other end of the line wondering why the hell he had dialed before he had time to think about it.

"I'll be watching the news and I'll have dinner ready when you come back home." She had answered to his unformulated question hurriedly and then she had hanged up. And he'd known that she hadn't wanted him to listen to the fear in her voice.

His Eriko, who wasn't a girl made of the stuff boys' dreams are. But who was a woman a man could lean on. Wise Eriko, who had embraced him without saying a word and had let him rest his head against her breast whenever he woke up with clenched fists; with the same willingness every single night of that terrible first week, after burying the ashes of his boss' boy right next to his irreproachable father in the guise of a hero, when all the boy had been was a deluded murderer.

"Aren't you going to ask me anything?" He'd asked amazed that his wife hadn't tried to intrude in his pain.

She'd denied kissing his hair: "You'll tell me when you're ready."

Eriko had waited for almost ten years to hear the tale from his lips. He had told her the same night he'd said to her that once more he was going after Kira. They both knew what that meant and, just like the first time, all she had said was that she'd be waiting for him. She had changed since she'd first spoken those words. She had gained a few pounds and had a few wrinkles. But in that instant he felt he wanted her more than he ever had before, and he'd made love to her with a passion he thought was lost to him. She had laughed softly, leaning against his body, and had said that maybe he should take to doing some extreme sport because adrenaline did wonders for him. That had wiped away the last traces of self-doubt he had. After all, he wasn't getting any younger and Kira was a formidable adversary.

It all came down to three words. He loved her. And as if that wasn't enough, she had given him Yumi and Katsuro. His children meant the world to him. He couldn't think of life without his family. They were all that he needed. He was a better man for having them. And he trusted his moral compass. Having kids in cells was wrong, no matter how you rationalized it. Any decent person would've wanted it to end as soon as possible. And B worked hard on the image of being a decent person. Also, his instincts told him that the fact B had started wearing make up meant that, for whatever reason, the perfection façade was harder to keep up. Vague suspicions were all he had, so he kept his mouth shut. But once more he watched B's room on the monitor at the same time he watched the kids pacing up and down their cells.

Next on Kira's Kingdom: Scroll 10- Facing the Music II: The game's afoot and now there are three players. How will Light deal with the Shinigami's champion?