I skipped through Matsuda's rescue in the first paragraph because it would more-or-less follow the DN plot and I didn't want to bore you guys to death for an update that was half-recounting events from a series. Hopefully it isn't too confusing of a description for those of you who haven't seen DN in a long!
MAJOR CHANGES IN THE PREVIOUS CHAPTERS: I've been rewriting tidbits of the past chapters, but mostly chapters 1-3. The most change probably happens in the first two, so if you're not down to re-read, you don't need to worry because the changes are pivotal to the story from here onwards. Just filling up some holes and adding some more details, background, and insight here and there. Also, PAIRING INFO: I've gotten a lot of reviews and a few messages begging me to change it to Light instead of L. Not that I'm saying that I am, but it is no longer for sure going to be L. Please note that I am not changing the pairing because people have nagged me, haha. I just don't think that a poll taken a few years back is relevant, and I feel like I should have freedom to change it if I see fit!
TLDR: I've been revamping this story a bit and the pairing is undecided for now.
-X-
Because It Defies Logic
Chapter Ten: Identity
-X-
Rescuing Matsuda was hardly a task. L thought up a plan in less than a few minutes, with Misa bringing Matsuda and the Yotsuba board members to her place for a 'special reception'. As stupid as Matsuda as L kept calling Matsuda, at least he had the sense to lie on the spot and say that he was there to represent Misa — so we were able to move the scene to Misa's place, and thus install cameras to watch as the events unfolded.
Matsuda had eavesdropped on Yotsuba's conversation and heard proof they they were Kira, meaning that they must have been deliberating whether or not to kill him. The perverted geezers watched as we faked Matsuda's death, 'getting rid of him' so that they wouldn't kill him themselves. We had to devise up a whole scenario to make Matsuda 'drunkenly slip' from the building balcony and land on a sloped mattress for him to fall on and slide into the room on a lower floor Wedy and Aiber were already on the ground, staging the 'sprawled' body and screaming witness. Light, L, and Mogi came rushing in a ambulance. The image of how absolutely unimpressed L looked triggered a playful snicker from me. In execution, it was a pretty pathetic plan in terms of dignity, but it worked, I'll give him that much.
But now, I wasn't laughing anymore.
"Is this a joke?" I spat, holding up the dress with disdain written all over my face. Wedy snickered knowingly. She was driving in the front seat, and after a firm command that we were going to go straight to Yotsuba instead of letting me stop by my house to change, I was now aware of why she was so insistent.
For some ungodly reasons unbeknownst to me, she had two revealing dresses in the back of her car. She probably brought two due to her own indecision, and I tried not to think about the possibility of her already knowing that she would be working with a girl. I obviously didn't mind showing some skin: I'd worn dresses all the time while on missions, but I was now working for men that I did not want seeing my legs under a mini skirt. She seemed alright with my reluctance to dress up until she found that we were the exact same shoe size. I should have lied, but I hadn't known that being able to slip into her heels would make her 200% more convinced that I should go in as a girl.
"We're there to install bugs, not ride rich dicks."
Originally, I was only supposed to help Wedy hack into the system, but it turned out that not only did Yotsuba obviously have the security system of primary school, but the cameras in their boardroom didn't have microphones — which mean that we had to put them in ourselves.
"And do you think they'd be more willing to forgive a four-eyed boy, a figure dressed in all back, or a cute little girl who got lost finding her way to the washroom, oh, or even better: sent as a stripper gram?" I growled, already knowing her argument before it was made. There was a reason why I paraded around real life as a boy, just like there was a reason I did my missions as a girl: it was easier to get by. We lived in a sexist society with gender expectations: might as well take advantage of them as I could.
"No one from HQ better see me," I warned, and Wedy shrugged, flinging me an adhesive bra from her glove compartment. I blinked, quickly checking the backing of the white dress, only to not find it. The second, blue one was hardly better, completely backless with spaghetti straps and an equally nonexistent neckline. The one in my hands at least had cap sleeves, and not the old granny type for modesty. The neckline was luckily not as low as the back, but it was still plenty exposure if I conveniently— I mean, accidentally bent over to pick something up. A cut-out back, body-con dress: my favorite, I snorted sarcastically.
"Not unless you want them to," Wedy snapped at my previous threat. Sighing, I began stripping, knowing we were in a rush. Wedy didn't remotely even try to hide her stare via the rearview mirror, as I unzipped my binding compression vest. I reached for the bra, peeling off the seals and sticking them carefully onto my chest. Drawing the two sides together to clasp in the middle, I was surprised that I still had any cleavage after binding them for so long, but I couldn't restrict what my body naturally had.
"Not bad," Wedy commented after I'd slipped into the dress. It was long-sleeved white, with a low neckline, and a tight fit that worried me for mobility. My back was so exposed, I might as well have used it for advertising space. "Oh, so you've still got some up there. Do you want a push-up anyway?"
"Very funny," I interrupted quickly, and she nearly laughed. Luckily, Wedy was pretty close to my size, with the exception of her being obviously more well-endowed in terms of a the mammary region, but I took some pride in have a toned and quite well-rounded trunk. We were similar in height, so the length still reached mid thigh, but I wasn't just going to be walking in this dress. "How am I supposed to do anything in this without flashing someone? Forget it, I'm going in as a guy."
"You go in as a guy and you might as well scream that you're another eavesdropping Matsuda, and this time, I'm sure they'll be less forgiving." Grimacing, I kept the dress on. The Task Force wasn't on the mission with us this time, so it was only Wedy and myself, while Aiber posed as an Eraldo Coil to interview Misa. The scheme seemed pretty thick at this point, and I had to keep my brain focused to remember that I had other people to worry about now, other than myself.
It was a nice feeling.
If we weren't in such a rush, I'd obviously go home to my own equipment and my own outfit, but we needed to bolt it to make it in time for their so-called 'Death Conference', as L chose to label it.
"I think you're the same shade as me, maybe lighter, " she said, throwing me her makeup bag.
"Yeah, because I totally care about my foundation shade right now," I scoffed, looking through her supplies as I came across tweezers, pulling them out. "ETA?"
"10 minutes. If you're gonna do your brows, at least do them over on a tissue." The woman either had eyes on the back of her head (because she sure as hell shouldn't have been able to see shit through her sunglasses), or knew me way better than I cared to admit. I swiped a napkin and yanked away at my eyebrow hairs. They'd grown out quite lengthy, so I finished plucking in about a minute, went on to concealing the redness, and began filling them in with a pencil as quickly as possible. "Wow, you clean up really nice."
"Stop looking at me and focus on driving," I growled, lining my eyes. So kill me for putting in the effort to look good. It's been a long time.
"Skip the bronzer, but do not even think about going outside without mascara and some lip." I laughed out loud, glancing at the surroundings. We were about 2 minutes away, so I reached for the remaining materials to paint my disguise. I would never admit it to anyone, but I missed this, and I didn't doubt for a second that Wedy had caught it right away, letting her commanding attitude be my own excuse.
As she pulled into a parking space, I clicked the lipgloss tube shut. "There's a wig in the bag. I think you should go blonde."
Ignoring her, I reached for a brown wig, surprising high-quality and similar to my present shade of hair. Adjusting it onto my head and tightening the fit, I was grateful for the synthetic hair that fell to my rear, masking part my back. Any coverage was better than no coverage.
Wedy slammed the car door and pressing it locked. I sighed, fiddling with the way my bangs sat. I wished I could wipe the smile off her smug face as she handed me a pair of sunglasses.
My memories flashed back to the countless missions I'd done in the past. When I'd embarrassed Douglas Jones at the Casino, I had really thought it would be the last time I'd go undercover.
I pressed the device at my ear. I reported back to the guys at HQ. "We've just arrived in the parking lot. I'm still with Wedy."
"I'm going to the control panel. Signal me when you're in position." Her voice came clearly through my earpiece, and I nodded to her as we parted ways. Dashing off to go in another way, I headed into the building.
I clopped away to the elevator, tugging the dress down because I could already see the perverted eyes glancing my way. Matsuda had gone through the front by sneaking under the guard's desk. I'd have to see if I could do the same, but I doubted it.
At the entrance, I peaked inside. Matsuda said the security was an old guy, but they had replaced him with a younger lad today: score. I sighed, readying myself to throw away my dignity for a couple of minutes. Making sure my earpiece was turned off so that HQ couldn't hear me, I stepped into the building.
"Mmm~ Momo-chan will be right with you, just patient, kay?"
"Hey, s-stop!" The guard stood up, a crimson blush on his face as he caught sight of me. "Do, uh… do you have a pass?"
"Momo-chan doesn't need a pass!" I huffed cutely, rotating the cellular device on my ear so that I was talking to him instead of whoever was on the other end. "Momo-chan always comes in through here, are you sure you're not new?"
"I—" he cleared his throat awkwardly, eyes landing on my cleavage not-so-subtly. Obviously new - man, I was good. They must've replaced him after the incident with Matsuda, too. He gulped, and stood up squarely. "I'm afraid I'm under strict orders not to let anyone pass! I'm sorry, miss."
I sighed, giving my fake phone-mate a quick 'Momo will call you back, mkay?' and hanging up promptly. "Wuu~ pretty please? Momo-chan doesn't always ask for favors, so just this once, okay? Otherwise Taka-chan upstairs will get mad~ Mr. Security Guard wouldn't want to get Momo in trouble, would he?" I leaned against the counter, dipping low with a seductive cock of the head. "Pretty please? Don't make me beg. "
"…I-I'm sorry, miss." It took all my power not to wipe the disgusting pout on my face and replace it with a menacing scowl. "I can't let you in. And… I'll be filing papers in just a few moments…with my back turned… so I'm going to have to ask you to leave now."
I winked, understanding his meaning. "Okay, Mr. Security Guard~ I'll catch ya later!"
True to his word, once I'd stepped away from the entrance, he turned his back around. I stripped off my heels and scurried past the table and around the corner to the elevator hall. Putting my heels back on, I sucked in a deep breath and fixed my hair.
"You're pretty good at this." I stiffened at the voice from my earpiece, at least grateful that it wasn't a male voice.
"Let me guess, you saw everything," I whispered, voice back down to it's usual tone.
"I'm in the control panel. Don't worry, I haven't connected it to our servers yet." The guys at HQ would be hearing this conversation and having no idea what just happened. "That'll take a few more minutes. Get up to the 20th floor asap."
"10-4," I replied, just as the elevator dinged to a stop in front of me. The doors slid open to reveal an empty compartment, and I pressed for the 20th floor. "Clear me for 20th floor."
"You're clear. Someone just pressed to go up at 16." I rolled my eyes, pressing for 15 to get off. My heels hot noisily against the floors as I found the nearest fire-escape. Taking off my shoes again, I pattered up the stairs in bare feet. "20th is still clear— wait… Shit."
"What?" Wedy grumbled, and I could hear her fingers typing away.
"Yotsuba's board meeting for 3 just got moved up to 1."
"What?" I hissed, breathless from running after weeks of no physical activity. "What time is it right now?"
"12:35…" Fuck, fuck fuck.
"That is not a lot of time," came L's voice, as seemingly careless as it always seemed to sound. I clenched my jaw. "Do you think you can do it?"
"20th floor clear?" I snapped, not bothering to answer his question. Wedy confirmed it, and I opened the door from the fire escape. Approaching the double doors with the passcode lock, I waited for Wedy to speak into my ear.
"43,1, 26, 9." I pressed the numbers and the beep signalled me to enter. Pulling one of the double doors open just slightly, I peaked in. The room was basically empty except for the centre octagon table and chairs spaced out evenly around. Stepping onto the tiled floor, my heels clopped noisily. I closed the door behind me with a resounding click, pushed my sunglasses up higher in my head, and went straight to work.
I hiked my skirt up, unstrapping the thigh holster (talk about cliché) with six medium sized microphones in a pouch. I stuck 3 of them underneath the table, far enough so that it wasn't easily reachable. I rolled a chair underneath the cameras and stood on top to attach one onto the devices, satisfied as it blended in seamlessly.
I was on the last camera when Wedy spoke into my earpiece again. "A duo just pressed for the 20th floor! I'll stall for you, but you've got a minute max!"
"Ray, get out of there!" I grimaced at Light's voice, attaching the last one. Jumping off the chair and pushing it back into place, I ran to the door to slip my heels back on. I threw open the doors, and closed them behind me, making my way to the fire escape.
"There's a pair coming from the stairwell!" I froze, finger grazing the metallic handle. The elevator must have passed them, and so they chose to take the stairs instead, but who does that? "There's a washroom on the floor, 50 meters south!"
My inner compass spun me around and ran as fast as I could in my heels, which was still pretty fast since they were only 3 inches. Rounding the corner, I pushed open the door to the ladies room, barely safe as two black heads had emerged from the staircase. I wasn't sure if they'd seen me.
"Ray! Are you alright?"
I finally answered Light with a click of the earpiece. "I'm fine. Has the board meeting started?"
"Everything is in position. Well done!" It was hard to get used to how much of a little kid he sounded like. I let myself crack a smile.
"Wedy, you copy?"
"All systems go: our servers are connected. I'll see to it that you're out safely before-"
I shook my head, not that she could see. Flinging my hands dry, I dried my hands using the napkins from the dispenser. "Getting in was the hard part. Getting out is easy enough. I'll meet you outside."
"…Mm," she agreed, and I switched my earpiece off. Still cautious, I cracked open the door and listened for footsteps before heading out.
To be safe, I went down a flight of stairs to take the elevator down on the 19th floor. The last thing I wanted was to accidentally bump into a Director, late to the meeting as he stepped out not the 20th floor. The elevator descending from one of the upper floors, and the doors opened in front of me.
"Sveinson-san," L said, "Where are you at the moment?"
I glanced at the security camera, knowing that they could probably see me from an angle - or at least, L was momentarily diverting his attention another screen amongst the many being projected to them. Luckily, I had sunglasses on, and if Wedy's hadn't betrayed me, they had no idea I'd entered the building as a woman. I tucked a strand of hair behind my ear, swiping past the button. "I'm outside."
"Oh really?"
"Really." I didn't even look at the camera on the outside as I stepped out and walked as casually as I could to the outside.
"… Well then, we will see you soon." The line went dead, and I pressed my earpiece off. Relaxing my shoulders, I pushed open the back door from Yotsuba group.
With impeccable timing, Wedy met me with her car several seconds after I stepped out of the building. She smirked at my unsuspecting expression.
"Ready to roll, Momo-chan?"
Rolling my eyes at her tease, I slipped into the backseat and kicked off my heels. "Watch it, pussy cat."
-X-
"I didn't have parents growing up either." Wedy piped up from the driver's seat. I fixed my fake glasses on my nose bridge, and blinked my eyes, fresh from being smothered with makeup remover.
Somehow, it had ended up like this. Wedy and I had somehow become something like friends in a period of less than 6 hours. I supposed that her knowing one of my secrets made her both trust me more, but I still wasn't fond of the notion of us breaking out into some girly honesty hour shit. She caught on quickly to my reasons behind parading around as a boy instead of a girl, and even had the same wavelength of thought as me in terms of executing undercover work as a woman. I didn't get any weird shivers down my spine like I did with people like Light. She didn't seem to have a hidden agenda, even for a woman who dealt with illegal crimes and stuff. I also doubted that L sent her to snoop on me when he was doing such a damn superb job himself.
"But I had an elder sister," she went on. I blinked.
"I had something like a younger brother." Leaning against the window, my eyes wavered past the buildings and pedestrians speeding by. "We were never actually family."
"But all you ever had was each other."
I corrected her solemnly, "No. I was the one who took it all from him."
Wedy just kept driving after that.
-X-
I soon begin to realize why Patricia, the middle-aged care taker of Mile, had so much silver hair despite her younger age. At first glance, I had thought she was in her sixties, but as the days went by, the beauty and grace of her character drew my eyes to her. The more I looked, the more I saw: she wasn't very old at all, though factors beyond her must have caused the hairs on her head to grey faster than her true age, which was likely closer to late forties or early fifties.
"Mile, honestly!" I peek past Patricia's pale, delicate frame at the boy sitting in front of his computer screen.
"Remember to drink water. You can't just sit here all day and not—"
"I'm coding!" is all he shouts - is all he ever really does shout when he's coding. Like an artist at work, he can't focus on anything else. From the few months I'd spent with them, I'd learned much about the outside world. Television, computers, politics, how to cook, how to dress… and that children around the world weren't brought up like me. I was 'not normal'.
Back at the base, there are children as small as him, already being trained. At his age, he'd probably already know how to proficiently wield a knife, and would be working on shooting basics—
"Do you want to watch?" He looks back at me expectantly. I blink, realizing that I'd been staring.
"…" I never reply to him, which is fine, because I don't think he ever really expects me to reply.
"Come in."
Gingerly, my toes pull me inside into the eerily lit room, illuminated by only a dim lamp and the computer screen. I wonder about his eyesight. How is it that he didn't need to wear sunglasses?
I hear the footsteps behind me, but I was a fast learner: I'd learned not to react to every sound with attack or offence. Patricia softly drapes a blanket over my shoulders, and I remember that I am only in pyjamas and a flimsy cotton shirt. It's the middle of December.
It'd been a long time since I'd been offered warmth in such temperatures. I've had much worse.
"She can stay. Patricia, you're too noisy."
Patricia sighed. "Mile, I doubt she wants to watch you just type at a computer—"
"I'll stay." The words leave my mouth before I can stop them. The words feel foreign to my lips, because I'd spoken an average of two words or so each day since arriving. It wasn't even that I didn't want to speak.
I'd been bred in an environment where we were barely allowed to breathe too much, nevertheless speak freely. I was never one for crying, either. My vocal chords hadn't gotten too much practice in my youth.
Mile looks over at me peculiarly, and a mischievous smirk adorns his lips. "See?"
Patricia sighs again from the door, but less heavy this time. Her voice is soft and gentle, just like her. "Don't lean in too close, dear."
"Last week, I made my uncle an application to match a person's face with their name. It's still kinda in its prototype stages, but I've created this system where it will pull from the databases of yearbooks, social media, and even some private forensic files, and personal computers with crappy security… which is the vast majority of the world. It's not like I can't crack into the more better secured ones though — I'm just too lazy."
I wait patiently, because I don't really understand what he's saying, but I also don't think he expects me to. I lean back into my seat, a wooden chair Patricia procured for me. I'm still wrapped snugly in the fleece blanket, which I was also sharing with him at his point.
"Go over there." I do as I'm told, standing in the middle of the room. He fturns on the lights from controls on his desktop, and I wince momentarily as he whips out a camera and snaps a picture of a me, checks it, and then turns off the lights again. I watch him curiously.
"Now let's see…" He clicks around for desk minutes, and I stay stand awkwardly in the middle of his dark room, eyes still overwhelmed. "Sit down."
I make my way over like a silent ghost. He presses the 'Enter' key (which I only remember as the biggest key on the side) and waits. A large list of names comes up, and I wait again.
"… You're not here." His voice is a broken whisper, filled with disbelief. I keep waiting, watching the curl of his golden eyelashes and the reflection of his screen against his blue orbs. "You're not here."
"… That's okay," I manage, because I don't like the way he sounds so lost.
"Do you think you'll ever remember your name?" he asks me, after he's clicked away and searched around for nearly half an hour.
"I don't have one."
His fingers slow down momentarily, but if there was anything I'd learned in the months I'd been with them, it was that Mile was also 'not normal'. He spoke more eloquently than most adult son television, and with an expertise and ease that (Patricia confirmed for me) was not ordinary for children his age.
"So it's not that you don't remember, but that you don't have one," he confirmed to himself. He takes a moment to squeeze his fingers for a second, stretching them out, before he resumes diligently. "You want one?"
I muse quietly. Do I want a 'name'? From what it sounded like, it was just a label on a person just like you'd label a table, chair, or house. We didn't go around 'naming' our tables and chairs, but we went around naming people.
"Never mind, you don't ever 'want' anything," he grumbles, more to himself. "Want me to give you one?"
I wait patiently. "Is… it permanent?"
"… Only if you want it to be."
I blink, still considering. His fingers halt, and his blue eyes glide to meet mine. "Lynn. L-Y-N-N."
Lynn.
"So do you want it or not?"
I can't answer him, but he watches me careful, and steals his gaze away from me with a proud smirk when he sees the tilt of my lips upwards.
Eventually, I wander out from Mile's room still draped in the fleece brown blanket. Patricia meets me as she's pouring hot water into mugs.
"Are you having fun, watching Mile on the computer?" I nod quietly, extending my hands to take the tray as she finishes pouring them. She smiles warmly. "Thank you, dear. Do make sure he stays hydrated. I do worry for that poor boy's eyesight, too…"
"Lynn!" Mile bellows from his room. Patricia freezes. "I found a cat that looks just like you!"
I'm accustomed to the abrupt nature of his calls, but the concept of naming me was still a weird one. He'd called me that name several times after naming me in his room, so the association with the name sat a little better in my mind, though it still felt problematically awkward.
"…. D-did Mile give you that name?" I notice now that Patricia hands are subtly shaking. An emotions creeps in (probably worry, which I know to be like a soft fear-like sensation, that's also less undesirable) as her fragile frame looks like it might collapse. She shuts her eyes, and I slide the tray back onto the counter to ready my hands in case she really does faint.
"Lynn was his mother's name." It was my turn to freeze. He named me after his mother? His deceased mother?
Patricia had explained to me that names were repeatable, meaning that there were a lot of people on earth named Emma, or Michael, or Andrew, but what does it mean if Mile named me after someone he knew, who was also no longer alive? Does that mean he wished I was dead? Do I remind him of his mother? I'm only a few years older than him, seemingly.
"He must really like you." That would not have been my initial estimation, but the way Patricia says it makes me believe it so fervently that I don't dare to doubt her. It certainly did not seem like Mile 'liked' me, but I realized I might not be the expert on emotions and how to convey them.
But then again, neither was he.
"I really like him, too." The words spill from my lips, and I don't have time to analyze what it might mean. I can easily identify the emotion of liking and disliking something or someone. Patricia smiles serenely at me.
When I make my way back to the room, Mile is waiting for me with his back turned, his fingers typing away.
"I'm still looking for you." I place the tray a little ways from his computer, because I knew how electronics worked — and how they wouldn't work if I accidentally spilled something on them with unsteady hands. "I haven't given up."
I figure that he's talking about my name. I shrugged, even though he couldn't see. It was a gesture I'd learned from him. "I don't mind."
He didn't reply, but I knew he'd heard. I stretched, and walked over to the cups of water. Should I offer him a cup? What if he thinks I'm annoying—
"I'm thirsty." His hand was outstretched, ready to grasp the mug I was holding. I handed it him to him gingerly, and he downed the liquid. When he passed it back to me, his cheeks were tinted with the faintest hue of pink, his eyes just a bit more unfocused.
It was then that I realized, through the many screens and microphones set up around the house, that he could've heard what I'd said about him in the kitchen. But I'm not sure, so I might as well tell him, because I don't like keeping secrets from these two, and I already have enough secrets I'm keeping from them.
"Mile," I said softly, going back to my seat to be his single audience member. "I really like you."
The pink stays. He takes a deep breath and exhales it, fingers suddenly slowing pace. I tilt my head slowly, wondering why his cheeks are doing such a funny thing.
"Yeah, I know," he fires back after a moment, fingers stuttering on his keyboard.
End of Chapter Ten.
-X-
I know you've waited a crap load of time for this update, and I promise that more juicy stuff will come later but wow this semester has drained me. NO ONE WARNED ME ABOUT ALL THE CRAP THAT GOES DOWN IN COLLEGE OMG. Any-who, I'll try to crank out an update or two before I'm back on the hamster wheel of death known as school.
I like to play up the role of minor/supporting characters in a series sometimes. Can you tell? (; If you're starting to catch onto the nuances of my plot, you can mention it in a review, but don't reveal too much or you might spoil it for others!
Keep the reviews coming, because they are love, love love! And thank you to all of you who are sending me encouraging PMs! You guys are the best!