A/N: ... Sssshhhhh... Yikes...
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Chapter IX: Self-Reproach
"I awoke, only to see that the rest of the world was still asleep." - Leonardo da Vinci
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Silence.
The improbable sound of silence engulfed her entire world.
Logically, Ren knew the street was screaming with all kinds of sounds and movement at present. But in that moment, nothing registered to the dark-haired woman, and the block felt painfully empty in the wake of Matsuda's announcement.
Hands grasped her shoulders, and her eyes snapped open, leading her to the realization she had closed them at all. Forcing herself to focus, Ren realized Matsuda stood in front of her, saying.. something. Though she wasn't listening to the words, his mouth moved. Probably trying to comfort her about this if she were to guess. Despite the twist in her gut that told her otherwise, it didn't matter what had just happened; she had to pull herself together now, at least outwardly. As the leader of this case, she had to stop falling apart when faced with situations like this.
Of course, that was easier said than done.
Clenching her fists, she shrugged his grip off and sidestepped Matsuda. "I'm fine. I ..." Her voice broke for a moment before she could regain control. "I need to see."
"Ren, are you sure that's a good idea right now?" Yuya asked her, brow pinched in concern.
"For god's sake, I'm a cop too. I can handle this," she snapped and brushed past him too. Heading towards the nearest house, she glanced down the street at the row of houses. Matsuda had said WIK killed them all. L warned her this would happen because of her press conference. This was the outcome of her choice, and she needed to know just how badly she had screwed up. Choices held weight, and Ren needed to read the scales.
Behind her, Ren heard Yuya arguing with Matsuda, saying that she didn't need to be there what with all the stress of the past two days already piled on her. However, as lead investigator she had priority access to the crime scene, which Matsuda was explaining. Only Koji stayed by her side, keeping up with her rushed gait, neither condemning nor comforting. His presence gave her much needed support, and Ren reminded herself to thank him for it later.
A single guard was posted at the door. Before he even asked, Ren flashed her ID, and he moved out of the way. He hadn't even greeted her and Koji, which spoke volumes for either the severity of the situation or whatever was in her expression. Ren honestly didn't know which she was hoping for.
Inside, the heady sent of copper was strong, nearly over-powering in its pungency, and Ren forced herself to swallow over the nausea that made her stomach roll and fold in on itself. Downstairs, everything was completely fine to her surprise, no out of place furniture, no signs of struggle, none of the usual stuff. Glancing around as she pulled on a pair of latex gloves, she spotted a crime scene flag at the base of the stairs.
And when she stood before the simple wooden staircase, she understood why.
Dark crimson streaked down the stairs all the way from the top, and though it was no longer dripping down, it wasn't dry yet either, she thought, from the way it gleamed under yellow lighting. A pale, wrinkled hand stretched across the top step, a plea.
In interest of preserving the crime scene, a ladder had been set up off to the side. Koji followed her, still silent, which she was again grateful for, his expression grim as she dragged herself up the metal rungs. She didn't even know if she could talk just yet. Her limbs felt heavy and refused to co-operate they shook so bad, and overall, she was hollow.
As she clambered up onto the second floor landing, she gazed at the lifeless body before her. He was elderly, his hair thin and gray, skin wrinkled and sagging. Blood was spattered across his face and leaked from his mouth – likely from the thin slash across his forehead that curved down through his top lip. An odd place for someone as precise as WIK to attack since the skull was so thick ... Unless it had only been to toy with the victim. A shudder wracked her body, and Ren squeezed her eyes shut until it passed. A large butcher knife was still embedded in the back of his neck where he lay on his stomach, hand stretching out towards the staircase like he was reaching for some sort of escape, his eyes wide and cloudy and unseeing.
More crime scene flags led down the hall though Ren could've followed the trail of bloodstains herself without difficulty. The shade of red stood out startlingly against the cream-colored walls. Taking careful note of the various stains' sizes and shapes, her mind provided innocuous details about the scene as she walked., trying even now to come up with something that would solve this case. The elderly man hadn't tried to put up a struggle – no broken furniture as of yet or damage to the walls. Even if he had, Ren doubted he could've put up much resistance. He was so frail ... So he had fled. But didn't make it. Why had WIK let him get that far? Mistake? She wouldn't bet on it.
The bloodstains shrank the closer she came to the room at the end of the hall – a bedroom if she were to guess. The smell of iron grew somehow stronger when she stepped through the door. A lamp had been smashed on the floor – not thrown, probably just knocked of the nightstand – bulky shards of porcelain scattered across the ground. The blankets had also been pulled to the floor, but otherwise there was little damage.
Aside from a curled up form on the bed.
Expression blank, Ren stepped up beside the figure. The way it was turned in on itself made it seem impossibly small and feeble. Only wrinkled skin and a long head of dark grey hair told Ren it was the old man's wife that lay in the middle of the blood-stained mattress. WIK had made one stab just under the jaw bone and into the brain. Quick. Maybe even painless. Turning away from the sight with a snarl, Ren felt disgust well up in her when she realized that she was trying to comfort herself with the idea. This woman shouldn't have died at all.
How was she supposed to feel though? The dark-haired woman hadn't met this couple once in her life. She didn't even know their names, and yet they were dead because of Ren's decisions. Albeit unintentionally, she had put them directly into WIK's path of destruction. In essence, she had murdered them.
And the thought filled her with horror, revulsion, rage.
With little more to look at, Ren stepped back into the hallway and slid down the ladder just as Matsuda and Yuya joined them. "You don't need to worry about photos or forensics. Aizawa dispatched a team to deal with that since this is clearly more than a two or three person job," Matsuda explained.
Ren nodded. "That's good. I assume they'll send lab reports when they're finished?"
Matsuda's brow furrowed at her strange statement. "Yeah, of course."
Of course they would be sent to her since she was leading the case. However, at the moment, Ren's mind wasn't as up-to-par as it should've been. Very dangerous in a situation like this. She shook herself. 'Get a damn grip, Gushike. You're leading this case. Act like it.' Thing was, she didn't feel quite worthy to be leading the case anymore. After all, she had caused a disaster so terrible she felt physically ill.. Yet.. Yet she didn't want to be taken off it either. She could fix this. She had to now. Ren wouldn't fail.
"Alright then," she continued on, finally regaining herself to a degree, using all the anger as fuel for her determination to stop WIK. "I still have to look over the rest of the crime scenes myself." Have to, not want to. Because in all truth, Ren didn't want to face the other faces she knew were waiting for her in those other houses, each lifeless and accusatory. But she had to. Because this was her fault, and she owed these victims her absolute attention if nothing else.
In truth, she owed them much more than her attention, but until the time came where she could take WIK down, this was all she could offer them. And it wasn't enough.
"I figured you would," Matsuda agreed, a look of understanding that wasn't quite pity passing over his face.
"Ren," Yuya spoke up again, hesitating a moment, his voice pleading almost, "you shouldn't be here right now. It's been hell for the past two days for you. No one would think less of you for leaving this until the morning." He took a halting step forward, intending to comfort her again, but Ren stopped him with a frown. "I know this has to be rough."
Clenching her fist, Ren struggled to keep her voice even. "Why? Because this whole massacre is the result of my decision?" She shook her head. "I'm fine. If I can't cope with something like this, then I don't even deserve to be here." Taking a deep breath, she turned towards the door and forced herself to stop talking before she started ranting. It wouldn't look good on her mental health if she blew up on Yuya when he was just trying to help. However, he needed to stop saying all these things that she didn't want to think about. She didn't deserve to turn away from this. She needed to look, needed the image burned into her retinas forever.
No one said anything to her after that.
Just before she stepped back outside, something to the side of the door caught her eye. It was a simple photograph of the old couple with their daughter standing between them. Nothing more, yet the bright smiles captured her attention, twisting her stomach unsettlingly. They were wide and unassuming. Now, those two would never smile again. Their daughter would never see them again. They were dead and gone.
Mouth pressed into a thin line, Ren's gloved fingers ghosted over the edge of the frame before she departed into the night air, heading for the next house.
Then the next.
And the next.
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Twelve total, she found out. There were twelve houses struck all together, and a gruesome tally of twenty-one bodies, according to Matsuda who had walked with her to each scene thus far. As she stood in front of the last house, twenty faces flashed through her mind, most bloodied, several strangled and bruised – but all lifeless. There wasn't much evidence to collect apparently. Each murder weapon had been taken from each house, and the forensics team had doubts that any drugs were used in the process.
Unlikely as it was, Ren hoped they'd find something, a fingerprint, a blood sample. Surely, surely, there was something. This was the biggest spree in years. With so much loss of life, WIK had to have left some trace. No one could be that thorough could they? And dammit, it wasn't fair for him to leave nothing of himself behind when he had taken so much already. However, though it was cynical, she just had a gut feeling that there wouldn't be a trace of her killer anywhere near here.
Bringing her back to herself, Matsuda nodded at the house. "Come on. Inside is the reason I called you in the first place," he explained. "It's how we knew for certain it was WIK."
Ren blinked at that. It just occurred to her that she hadn't even questioned the legitimacy of this being her killer. Then again, Matsuda had told her it was, and really, who else could it have been? These crimes carried the feeling she'd come to associate with WIK, that uncomfortable detached precision. Each kill was impersonal – just a task completed, like an errand. A pointless loss of life.
Following Matsuda inside, Yuya and Koji on either side of her, they entered the two story house, practically identical to all the others aside from the particular shade of white and a set of photographs. The entry way and living area were cluttered with canvases, amateur paintings on them though some were only half-finished, and Ren saw several large paint stains on the oak flooring, telling of long hours spent practicing the art.
"This is where the call we received came from," Matsuda said from the archway that led to the kitchen.
When she entered the room, Ren bit her cheek so hard she drew blood in her effort to keep herself from retching. Yuya's gasp and Koji's own gagging let her know the exact moment they saw it.
Apparently, the victim had been awake when WIK broke in, or at least, Ren assumed she had been painting before she was killed. The girl wasn't very old, perhaps five years her junior, and was wearing a pair of green striped pajamas. WIK had snuck up on her, and it looked like they'd smashed her head into a nearby kitchen counter. Her long hair was matted and sticky with blood and grey matter, where she leaned against the counter. In a macabre way, it only looked like she had fallen asleep against the counter. The thought made Ren's throat dry.
She couldn't take her eyes off the girl's crumpled form.
It could've been minutes before Matsuda broke the silence. "The message is for you, I think. That, or the department as a whole maybe."
Her eyes snapped away from the body, the spell broken. "What?" she demanded. Matsuda nodded to the canvas that the girl had been painting, where someone had scrawled some words over the original piece.
In thick red letters was the message: PARADISE LOST
"The phrase is familiar," Ren mumbled, taking a step towards the canvas. After a moment, she realized to her relief the substance WIK had used to paint the message was only red paint – not blood as she had originally thought. Then again, that was probably what WIK had intended.
"It's that story about the war between heaven and hell," Yuya explained, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. Shocked, Koji turned to him. With a huffy sigh, the tall man crossed his arms. "What? I paid attention a good half the time at school."
"Do you think they're comparing themselves to God or Satan?" Ren thought aloud. If she were to guess, she would bet on the former. When a psychopath of this caliber looked in the mirror, they saw god staring them in the face. The world was their plaything, and their definition of play was terrifying. They didn't care for anyone or anything, and this block massacre just showed how little human lives weighed on WIK's conscious.
"Perhaps neither?" Koji offered thoughtfully, brow pinched in concentration. "Wouldn't Kira play God in this scenario?"
"Perhaps ..." Ren admitted, not completely convinced either way. It could be one or the other. With only such short messages from the killer and such little evidence left at all, it was difficult to get a read on them.
Later, Ren would wonder at his timing and just how he'd known exactly where she was at that moment, what she was seeing, but just then her phone rang. Still numb from the entire ordeal, the dark-haired woman brought her cell to her ear, accepting the call without even glancing at the caller ID.
"Yeah?"
"Are you ready to listen now, Ms. Gushike?" a male voice asked, and Ren recognized the voice immediately. After all, she had been going over his words for the past day and a half, almost incessantly over the past couple of hours.
She pressed her eyes closed for a moment. Was she ready? So far, her one decision as team leader had completely backfired. She had thought she could do it on her own. She'd wanted to so badly. If she solved this case, it would finally be a real accomplishment from her time with the department. That was partly why she had rejected every offer of extra help thus far. However, she was starting to realize that there was no way she could do this on her own anymore – or ever, for that matter. She needed help.
And what better help to catch a serial killer could she hope for than from the world's greatest detective?
After a long silence passed, she bowed her head. "Yes, Ryuzaki, I am."
Koji and Yuya just gave her questioning looks as she had yet to explain about L's alias and the fact that, yes, the real L had taken her. But Matsuda immediately stiffened at the words. Though she could practically feel the curiosity radiating from him, he didn't say anything or crowd in on her conversation. Ren had to give him props for that because she wasn't sure she could do the same if she were in his position.
"Come to the Matari Days on thirty-fifth Street. Room eighteen ninety-six."
Another hotel? 'I figured as much,' Ren thought as she took a moment to commit the address to memory.
"Okay, when we finish up here, my team wi-"
"Not your team. Just you."
Ren's brow furrowed. "I don't understand."
She heard him sigh and mumble something like 'an unfortunately common occurrence,' before he answered her. "I've agreed to meet with you, not your entire team. I've also questioned only you."
"Then question them too." She didn't think that would be such a problem. Really, he hadn't asked her very many questions overall.
"That would require more effort than I'm willing to put in right now. It's also very unnecessary. Miss Gushike, you'll have to receive my help on my terms."
Rubbing at her eyes with the heels of her palm, she relented, "Fine. Alone. I'll go as soon as I'm done here."
"As you wish."
Ren didn't say anything else as she snapped the phone shut. In truth, she wasn't sure she bought his explanation of why her team couldn't come also, but she wasn't exactly in a position to start demanding things from him. She was going to meet with L again ... At least he hadn't drugged her this time. Although she didn't know a whole lot about the effects Chloroform had on the system, she doubted that breathing it in twice in a week would be good for her health.
"What was all that about?" Yuya asked.
Ren hesitated for a second. "I have to go meet with ... Someone who thinks they can help with the case." Matsuda met her eyes for a moment, raising a brow at her. She did her best to communicate 'later' to him without being overtly suspicious. It wasn't that she didn't plan on telling her team about L, but he had been very adamant about her coming alone. What if he didn't want his involvement in the case known? With the way everything had been going, Ren was suddenly hesitant to make any sort of decision on her own. So, she would keep quiet about it until after their meeting. Then she would know where he stood with everything. As loathe as she was to admit it, she needed his help.
Turning her back on the last victim and WIK's message, Ren continued, "He's asked to meet me alone. Otherwise, he won't give his help."
"Do you think he knows anything?" Yuya asked, eyes narrowed. Ren could tell he wasn't buying her story and neither did Koji if the suspicious glances they were giving her were anything to go by.
"That's what I'm going to find out." She looked over at Matsuda. "Was there anything else you needed to show us?"
He shook his head. "This was it. You're good to go. Aizawa is planning on addressing the press directly due to the scale of the crime here."
"Alright." Ren nodded; that was probably for the best too, and quite honestly, she didn't feel up to dealing with those assholes today. "I need a taxi," she continued. "Koji, get me a copy of that book for later. I haven't read it since high school. Yuya, keep working through that supporters list. But first, go home and get some sleep."
"You're not even going to let one of us drive you to this meeting? And what about you? You need to rest as well," Koji reminded, a frown curling his mouth.
Ren shook her head. "I can't say how long it'll take, and he said alone. I get the idea that he's the sort that'll know if I even thought of bringing back up," she explained with a sardonic smirk. After a moment, the two nodded and accepted her choice without further protest though she knew they were less than pleased by the latest turn of events.
With nothing more to say, the group left the crime scene behind, heading into the brisk morning air. Letting the others walk ahead, Ren paused at the front doorstep to look around. Already, the night had passed, and the sky was dull with the grays of twilight. Checking her phone, she realized that it was nearing six in the morning. Had it really been only a few hours since the block murders had happened? It felt like they'd been there a lot longer.
A small chalk drawing on the sidewalk across the street caught her eye, and Ren closed them against the guilt that welled up in her. The child who'd drawn that had just lost their grandparents. How was she supposed to fix all this? In a way, it was like WIK had already won. Her fist clenched.
"You're not asleep are you?" a very familiar voice demanded.
Ren opened her eyes to see Sumi standing in front of her. "What are you doing here?" As far as she knew, her sister didn't work through the nights anymore – especially not with another kid in the house.
"I was coming to check on my baby sister, but now I can see you're right in the middle of a pity party," she answered, examining her nails.
Ren's face darkened. Pity? No, she was furious with herself for failing so many people. "These people died because of me," she hissed, taking a step towards her sister.
A flash of surprise passed over Sumi's face before she managed to conceal it, and the other woman matched her step for step. "No, they died because a deranged psycho killed them," she retorted, scowling now. "You don't get to be all 'I did this, it was me.' That's not how it works when you're a cop, Sis."
"But it was my decision that brought WIK here! Everyone else seems to realize that!" When she saw a few people directing looks their way, Ren took a deep breath and made a note to lower her voice. Easier said than done since Sumi always knew exactly the wrong buttons to press.
Rolling her eyes, Sumi scoffed. "You say that like you gave WIK a ride in your car."
"Look, I don't have time for this right now. I have to go." Ren moved to brush past her, but her sister caught her arm, whipping her back around to face her.
"This conversation is not over," she told Ren, eyes hard, but the dark-haired detective had no intentions of backing down. Perhaps Sumi realized that too because eventually, her grip slackened, and her frown twitched. "Whenever you finish up with whatever the hell it is you're doing, we're going to finish it."
"We'll see," Ren snarked back and jerked her arm away, stalking towards the edge of the crime scene.
"I'll break into your apartment if I have to," Sumi warned, crossing her arms under her bust, and Ren knew from experience she wasn't joking.
Still feeling the need to be difficult, she tossed the retort over her shoulder, "Then maybe I'll stay at a hotel."
"Come on, Ren... This isn't like you."
"Fine," she relented, slowing to a stop, her frown deepening. At the moment, Ren wasn't happy with her sister in the least, but Sumi was her closest friend. She couldn't shut her out forever, and the detective always preferred dealing with these fights as soon as they begin anyways. Before the pause grew too long, she turned back to her with a sigh, realizing that her sister had matched her step for step. "But Hatsumi ... Just don't make light of this. Please." Coughing awkwardly, she added, "You're like a little kid. You don't take things seriously."
Sumi's expression softened. "That's only because you're always too much of an adult." And with that, the tension left the conversation, and Ren knew everything would be fine between them. Honestly, that was one of the quirks she loved most about her sister. Even if they had just been fighting, Sumi always tried to find a way to make her feel better.
Ren snorted. "This isn't exactly child's play anymore."
"Was it ever?"
"... No, I suppose it wasn't."
Without another word, Ren strode away from the neighborhood so she could hail a taxi. By then, quite a few reporters had caught wind of the massacre, so Ren did her best to slink by unnoticed. She was hardly in a position to speak to her sister and team. There was no way she could handle reporters at the moment. Luckily, since she wasn't in uniform and had come out in a round about way to avoid as many people as possible, she managed to sneak through without too much effort, and soon enough, she flagged down a taxi. After giving her driver the address, Ren let her head fall back against the seat with a thud.
Once more, her thoughts turned to the case. Though lately, they never really fell on anything else anyways, so it wasn't exactly a surprise. This time, Morino's face was joined by the twenty-one block murder victims. All the deaths she had caused. All within seventy-two hours. How was she supposed to accept something like this?
Sumi had always been good at picking herself up, dusting off, and moving on. However, Ren was fuzzy with the 'dusting off' part. Every mistake weighed on her, and normally, that helped her to avoid making the same mistake twice. But this was her greatest failure to date, and it wasn't only on her head. It had affected so many others as well, and now, for the first time, she wasn't sure how to fix this.
Well, she knew what needed to be done, but she didn't know how to do it.
With a growl of frustration, Ren slammed her fist against the window, ignoring the way the driver jumped and shot her a terrified look to see if she would do it again.
Even if she didn't like him – actually, she still rather disliked him – she hoped L would have some answers. Now, she couldn't discount either his identity or his genius since he'd already predicted what everyone else had failed to. What she'd failed to. And god knew she had to be crazy, but a small part of her that had idolized him for so long was excited that she was working with L even if it came with all the insults and degradation he'd met her with so far.
All in all, she just wanted to end this case – to end WIK. If that meant she had to sacrifice what was left of her pride, then so be it.
She just wished the faces would go away. Never before had a case affected her so badly. Pressing herself even further into the seat, she scrubbed at her eyes as if it would wipe away the memories.
She was already so tired. And everything had barely begun.
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Idly biding his time, L added yet another sugar cube to his ever-growing tower. Currently, the stack numbered twenty-three though his record was thirty-five. Perhaps he would break his record today though, for he had some time to kill still yet.
Over half an hour had passed since he had contacted Miss Gushike, and he knew she would be arriving sometime in the near future. Considering how long it had been since he last entertained guests, L decided he was being a pretty good host. This time, he had procured muffins to go along with coffee instead of tea. She would need it after such a long night, and he would find it annoying if he had to keep waking her up in the middle of their conversation. L disliked having to repeat himself about things like this.
She was ready to listen this time according to her. Perhaps they might actually accomplish something that morning then. Last time, she hadn't reacted well to his words at all. So much so that Miss Gushike had flatly refused to believe he was L and stormed out in a huff. In the brief time he'd known her, she'd proven herself rather thick-skulled and closed-minded – very by the book. A problem since this killer had decided to ignore the book in its entirety.
WIK was hardly Kira, but that's where the killer's origins were partially grounded – L predicted there were some deeper issues involved as well for obvious reasons. Killers like Kira attracted the interest of killers like WIK, so L supposed this was bound to happen eventually. In fact, he had been counting on something similar cropping up for the past several years now. Though, he had hoped the police would have been able to handle it without his intervention. Of course, the genius detective should've known better.
L stared at the white cube between his fingers before eating it like it was. While he was in the middle of placing another cube on the tower, she knocked on the door, and his tower went sprawling across the coffee table. With a small sigh, he called out, "Please, come in, Ms. Gushike."
A brief pause lapsed before he heard the sounds of her coming in. However, he didn't immediately turn to her, choosing instead to reform the scattered sugar cubes into a pyramid. Only when he heard her footsteps pause outside the sitting room did he glance over his shoulder at her. She was standing in the threshold with her arms crossed over her chest, making her look awkward and closed off, as though she wasn't quite certain she wanted to be there. It seemed she still retained her animosity towards him even though his prediction about the case had been correct. That was to be expected.
"Have a seat if you would." L gestured to the couch across from him where a tray laden with muffins and a cup of coffee was placed. "Help yourself to whatever you wish."
As he took in her appearance, L knew he had been right to choose coffee. Even though she'd been drugged and in the throes of panic last time he saw her, Ren Gushike seemed somehow more haggard now. Deep black circles that nearly rivaled his own ringed her tired eyes, and her hair was a mess, her simple shirt and jeans rumpled. Altogether, she looked numb, withdrawn and disturbed. Obviously, she was still in shock from WIK's latest murder spree. When they spoke on the phone earlier, he'd guessed as much by the tone of her voice. If he were to guess though, it was wearing off as her eyes drooped a little more as each second passed.
As she settled down into the couch, the dark-haired woman picked up the coffee cup, eyeing it with apprehension. He'd dressed it much like his own, remembering her words from last time. She'd ignored the tea he offered her when he last saw her because she was angry, but perhaps she didn't trust him not to drug or even poison her this time. Though it was exasperating, he understood her position to a degree. He certainly wouldn't drink anything she made for him.
Finally, she took a small sip. Her lips puckered into a frown as she swallowed, brow furrowing. "What's in this?" she questioned.
"Nothing more than milk and sugar."
"It's ..." She trailed off, searching for the right word. "Sweet."
Canting his head to the side, he noted that she was clearly attempting to uphold a more civilized front than previous. "I made yours with less sugar than mine." As her eyebrows raised in disbelief, L slurped his own drink and ignored her unvoiced disgust. "Now," he continued, glancing up at her, "on to the reason I asked you here. First, would you turn off your cell phone."
To his surprise, she didn't question his reasoning for once and complied with the request. 'Not part of her shock... She definitely feels guilty for not listening last time.' Then she took another drink of coffee, this time only wincing slightly.
"Thank you. Secondly, I ask that you refrain from taking notes during our meetings."
Her brow furrowed. "I thought you said I could fill in my team later on."
"Yes, that's right." He tapped the center of his forehead. "Keep everything that happens in your head. According to a test you once participated in, you scored fairly well on cognitive retention, so surely you can manage this."
"Of course," she mumbled with a huff, a bit put out. "Can we move on to WIK now?"
L offered a mute nod before picking up one of the muffins and taking a big bite of it. Speaking around the mouthful of food, he said, "I assume you wish to hear my thoughts about the killer?"
"Well, yeah," she agreed. "That's why I'm here right?"
Ignoring the last comment, he began, "This killer is intelligent as is obvious, but they're also a part of society, someone with a job and a life outside of their ... extracurricular activities."
Ren Gushike nodded and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, expression thoughtful. "That's why the killings are seemingly randomly spaced and only take place late in the evening or very early." He was glad that the cloudy expression in her eyes had faded entirely now and hoped she was keeping up relatively well.
"Yes, along with the night providing a better set up for a murder for anyone without supernatural assistance."
"So you don't think WIK has a Shinigami?"
L brushed his thumb against his lips. "If they did, then they're not using a Death Note at the very least. They should've been able to finish taking out every officer apart of the Kira case by now with ease."
"I didn't think so either, but I wasn't sure I should rule it out entirely since we don't know much about them." She drank more coffee. "How would you advise my team to investigate?"
"At the moment, your best lead is to keep looking through the supporters lists. Pay close attention to the ones who have no alibis for the murder dates and perhaps a minor case of OCD."
"Why OCD?"
"WIK has an obsession with perfection. So far, they've left no trace of themselves other than the messages they've left for you."
Nodding, Miss Gushike began drumming her fingers against her knee. "I'd also like to discuss those messages. Namely, the latest one."
"Paradise Lost..." L mumbled more to himself than her. In truth, there were several possible meanings to the phrase. The war between God and Satan. Perhaps even a literal one in that the paradise that they'd lived in for so long had been fractured. 'It's better to rule in hell than serve in heaven.' The last held the most interest in his opinion, and for the time being, he leaned towards that as the definition. Maybe WIK intended all three however. It wasn't as though they were mutually exclusive.
"Is he casting himself or Kira in the role of God? Or do you think there's a different meaning?"
He remained silent for a moment. "It's difficult for us to decide something like that." Meeting her eyes pointedly, he continued, "You realize we can't use this as a lead."
"Why not?" She frowned at him again.
Sighing, he elaborated, "Because this killer is smart, they're not going to deliberately leave something damning. You're seeing exactly what they want you to see." He took another slurp of coffee. "For all you know, this could be purposefully misleading."
With a frustrated sigh, she leaned back and crossed her arms under her bust. "So you're saying I should just ignore a message like that?"
Was she even trying to keep up with his thought process anymore? He had been optimistic after her first comment, but perhaps he should've waited to hold this meeting until she'd slept some first. Mentally, he made a note that this woman was more or less useless when lacking sleep. Again, he sighed heavily through his nose. "Why would you think that? No. Of course, you should pay attention to the messages. But don't look for what the killer wants you to see."
"And what is it that he doesn't want me to see?" she asked, finally understanding what he was trying to explain.
L tilted his head back. "Until we get more messages – and we will get more – we aren't able to conclude very much. However, both messages were literary references, so it's likely they're well versed in the subject. Other than that, the messages prove that WIK's getting bolder as they escalate the crimes. They believe they're untouchable at the moment."
The two were silent for a time, both drinking their beverages as she turned over his words in her mind. While the moment stretched on, L returned to building a sugar cube tower. It was odd working with another person again after so long. Somewhat annoying too. A regular person could never keep up with L mentally. BB had come close, and WIK seemed to be making an effort. But Kira was the only one who ever truly matched his wit. And what did that say for L?
Only sociopathic killers were on his level.
Finally, she retreated from thought, clearing her throat to draw his attention. "How long do you think it will take to catch WIK?"
"It doesn't matter," he dismissed before finishing off the last of his coffee. "In the end, justice always prevails. We just have to keep playing their game until then."
"More cops will die the longer we take," she protested, a furrow working its way into her brow though she managed to keep her temper under wraps. Miss Gushike was shaken from the previous night; he could see it in her eyes, the desire for all of this to end, to prevent any more deaths.
"You misunderstand, Miss Gushike," L informed her. "You seem to think we have some choice in the matter." He crushed a sugar cube between his fingers. "Right now, WIK is in control. They call the shots. We react. Eventually, they'll make a mistake, and I'll stop them."
"I see..." She trailed off, leaning forward to rest her elbows on her knees. "L, one more thing. How much of your involvement do you want me to tell my team?" When he didn't answer for a long time, she continued, "I mean, you went into hiding for a long time, and I would understand if you don't want them to know it's you."
In truth, he was almost surprised by her words. L had assumed she would just tell her team, so at least inwardly, he gave her a little credit. And he noted once more that she truly did intend to turn away from her previous approach now that it proved disastrous for her, and that would expedite matters, assuming she listened to his instructions as she should... If only she could apply the same forethought she had used here to something actually important.
"Ah, I suppose it doesn't make much of a difference. However, I would suggest you keep my involvement out of the press as it would cause panic, and the killer would react strongly to the news as I am almost assuredly his biggest target."
She nodded. "Of course." Once more, they fell into a brief silence as the dark-haired woman picked at her nails. Clearly, she had something she wanted to say, yet she was stalling. Finally, she released a deep breath. "I suppose I should thank you."
"Hm?"
"For helping," she clarified, careful to not meet his eyes.
"Ah, that is unnecessary. I'm not doing it as a favor for you or the police department for that matter."
"Even still." With that, she finished off her own cup and wearily stood. "How can I get in touch with you if I need to speak to you?"
L pushed another chunk of muffin into his mouth. "I have an email address you can use if you absolutely must. I will contact you from it in the near future," he explained. With what he knew of Miss Gushike, he doubted she would be able to provide him with any information he didn't already have or couldn't find on his own. Years on his own had taught L that if he was actively focused on one case, there was nothing he couldn't find out.
"But, what if-" She gave a defeated sigh, attempting to keep her irritation from showing. "Fine. When exactly should I expect to be contact?"
"Perhaps soon," he answered being vague on purpose, wanting to push her and see how she reacted. Her fist clenched in frustration, but she didn't argue with him on it. Really though, he had already answered her question, so if she was going to play dumb, then he would too.
"If there's nothing else, I'm going to head out."
L nodded, returning his attention to the sugar cubes. "Very well, Miss Gushike."
With nothing more to say, she headed off, stifling a yawn with the back of her hand.
~}(4){~
When Ren made it back to her apartment, she had two messages on her home phone and an email – likely from L already. Huh, perhaps she'd been getting worked up with him for nothing earlier. He seemed to have that uncanny effect on her. Regardless, she was too exhausted to care, so she simply bypassed her computer and answering machine and made her way to her bed room. There, Ren fell face first on her mattress.
Yet, even as tired as she was, Ren wouldn't be able to fall asleep for several hours yet. Instead, she lay there as a myriad of face swam through her mind. One of which, was the shadowy face she dubbed WIK, and that elusive form haunted her dreams for the day and the days to come.
~}(To Be Continued){~
A/N: So, so so sorry about that wait... Was never my intention, I swear. But no excuses this time. That was outrageous, and I'll definitely try better this time. Anyone still here to read this? I hope you all liked it (however few remain). Thank you for your patience!
A huge thank you to everyone who reviewed the last chapter! And of course, to all my readers.
ONWARD!
- Alyssa