Disclaimer! All fictional entities featured/ mentioned in this segment belong to Tsugumi Ohba and Takeshi Obata; except Erin Blogger, who I made up for the purpose of this fan fiction. Any other unfamiliar names may be either others original characters or allusions to real-life people. Also, any biases expressed in this fan fiction, cultural or otherwise, are not identical to my own, in case you ever feel offended.

Hope you don't mind that I am borrowing scenes from the actual series, right down to dialogue. I kind of wouldn't have a story otherwise.

10. Rumble

Sometime in the middle of the night—or was it morning?—I woke to the rapping of knuckles on my door. I reached over to turn on a lamp. Who the heck could THAT be?

As soon as I could start thinking again, blinked the soreness out of my eyes, I automatically ruled out L. L never knocked.

"Miss Crocker?" a voice murmured. "Are you awake?"

Watari, then? Well, that was easy. I grabbed my robe off of the chair and tied it around me as I stumbled over to the door, combing the gnarls out of my hair with my fingers.

"For the most part, yeah," I slurred, rubbing my eyes out with my knuckles. "What d'ya want?" At that point, I'd gotten kind of used to getting woken up in the middle of the night. I still didn't like it, mind you; I just started to tolerate it. Mostly because it would do me no good to complain.

Watari unlocked the door, and I opened it to peek out at him through the crack. "Forgive the disturbance, Miss Crocker. But I must ask that you get dressed. You will need to pack your things, posthaste."

That wiped whatever sleep I still had clean off my brain. Had I heard that right? Had Fuzzy finally come around? I had to twist my pinkie around in my ear canal, just to make sure I didn't have wax blocking it or something.

I propped myself up against the threshold, a bemused and groggy smile weaving into my lips. "So, you guys finally decided to let me go home?"

Watari shook his head. "I'm afraid not."

That killed my buzz almost as quickly as it had aroused it. I don't know what made me think they'd ever decide to do that; hoping for the sake of hoping, I guess. Nevertheless, the grin on my face shriveled into a scowl. "What'd you wake me up for, then?" I asked sourly. "Never mind, I'm goin' back to bed," I grumbled with a wave.

I was about to shut the door on the old man when he reached out to hold the knob on his side. "Miss Crocker, wait. You don't understand—"

"Of course, I wouldn't understand! You guys won't tell me a damn thing!" I snapped, then instantly wished I hadn't. L was the problem, not so much Watari, who was only following orders. Don't shoot the messenger, Erin. You should know that very well.

I pinched the spot between my eyes, hanging my head so he wouldn't see me blushing like a tomato. "I—I'm sorry. Look, all I'm saying is that if you really want me to jump out of bed in the middle of the night to pack my stuff, I think that I should at least have a reason to. Can you at least do that for me? Gimme a reason, please?"

So, he gave me one: "Ryuzaki is relocating the team to a new headquarters."

What? Again? If L didn't want anyone looking for him, why not go hide in a mole hole? Any old mole hole. No one would ever think to look there. I groaned, "No offense, Watari, but this thing with moving from hotel to hotel is getting kind of irritating. Doesn't he have a place that's more…I don't know, permanent? Like a secret lair out in a cave, or a swamp, or something?"

Watari chuckled a little. "Well, I wouldn't say the new location is in a swamp or cave, but we do, in fact, have a more permanent arrangement established. As of now, at least."

I arched an eyebrow at him. I could feel my journalist senses start to tingle, making my fingers and toes curl and prickle. Did I smell another plot twist? Oh, boy. How bad would this one be? "No fooling? Well, then, why haven't we been staying over there, in the first place?"

"As I've said before, we have only now just established it. Now, if you need any assistance in moving your things, do not hesitate to ask for it."

I stretched a little before I really got going. Every day this case kept getting more and more bizarre, but I could say or do nothing about it except roll with it. The better part of life is that way, if you think about it. Besides, hearing about this new Batcave™ or whatever sort of piqued my interest; it sounded like something fresh out of a comic book.

I didn't do much when it came to dressing; just crammed into a sweatshirt and slacks over my PJs. The way I figured it, the first thing I would probably do once I got settled into this new place was go back to sleep. Only Watari and Mr. Yagami were up to help me lug out my stuff. As the three of us headed down the elevator, I turned to both of them—first Watari, then Mr. Yagami—and asked, "Um, does anyone else know about the new 'quarters?"

Watari nodded. "They do. But they will not be moving in until sometime later. Ryuzaki wants you moved in first."

"Why?"

Mr. Yagami spoke up, "Being that the two of them are still suspects, he doesn't want Light or Amane to know you are with us." His voice sounded a little drained, doubtless because his mind was still strained about still having his own kid as the prime suspect.

I couldn't help but groan. "That so? Well then, if he's so concerned about my safety, why doesn't he just send me home?" I had a feeling I had become a real pain in the ass about that since I'd met the team. To be honest, I think I sort of wanted to be a pain in the ass. This part of me held on to the notion that maybe, if I kept that up, they would crack and have to send me home.

Oh, who was I kidding? I'd been stuck with them for about two months already. It took all my energy just to maintain my own sanity, never mind break down theirs. Besides, these guys were working on the biggest, dirtiest murder case of the century. Compared to Kira, I couldn't even leave a scratch.

"You know we can't do that," said Mr. Yagami. "We know how much you want to go home but it wouldn't exactly be the wisest thing to let you, not with all the knowledge you've acquired."

I think it would be wise, I thought but dared not say aloud. No one asked what I thought. Erin Blogger—or Elin Crocker, as L had so graciously christened me—was just the stupid American kid, her presence a strict and totally avoidable accident (just ask my parents). If my big mouth would only let me I might as well have shut up for the rest of the case.

So I dropped it. But I didn't keep nearly as quiet in the back seat of the Royce as we drove off into the urban nebula. I was tapping my feet, drumming my fingers, humming the vintage Batman™ theme music to myself as I stared out the window, not exactly able to bask in the city lights and blinking signs in Japanese calligraphy due to the window's tinted glass. Off I went, horsing around again. I did that, sometimes, when I got nervous or excited, just to try to feel better. Boy, was I nervous all of a sudden. I felt like a practical pin cushion.

Besides, in a weird way it felt appropriate. I mean, crazy-mad deductive skills, fancy gizmos, a butler, a Batcave™, the emotional capacity of a cinder block, batty out the wazoo…geez, all he was missing was a damn mask and cape. Oh, and martial arts skills. I briefly wondered if he could actually be Bruce Wayne if he had a nervous breakdown and let himself go to pot.

"Huh? Did you say something?" Mr. Yagami turned to ask me from the shotgun.

I pursed my lips. "No." I said it more like a question than an answer.

The silhouette of the "Batcave™" that rose up from the windshield looked nothing like the one I had pictured in my head. For one I thought it was going to be more inconspicuous, like out underneath a mansion somewhere in the woods. I didn't expect a huge-ass skyscraper smack in the middle of the city (I counted twenty-three gorgeous floors, with probably more I couldn't see). Its neighbors didn't even come close!

But maybe that was the point? By making it look so obvious, it blended in perfectly with the city lines. It's funny how the most backward thinking could get people by, sometimes.

It took me until I asked Watari about it to realize that I'd lost my breath. "Holy he—that's it? That's the Batca—I-I mean, the new headquarters?"

"Correct."

"You built this? All by yourselves?"

"Again, you are correct." If L was Batman™, Watari was Alfred™, his secret-keeper, his right hand, perfectly content to cook and clean and work in the background while his partner did his thing. How on earth did he get stuck with a guy like L? Moreover, how did he put up with him?

I whistled. "Where'd Ryuzaki scrape up the finances for that crazy thing?" I started to reach for the switch so I could roll the window and get a better look.

"As you can see, we are quite determined in apprehending Kira. No expense is spared. And please keep your person within the car. Do not open the window." That didn't exactly answer my question, but I dropped it. They almost never gave me a straight answer.

The more and more I took in, right back from when we slipped into the underground driveway, the more parallels I spotted to the Batcave™ from the comics or the films or whatever; I sort of made a game out of it, just to help me calm down. I don't think it helped much, though. If anything, it made my senses flare. No matter how long I'd stayed with the team, they never ceased to amaze me, confound me…scare me, even. This was the stuff of action flicks I was looking at, only real.

And far less enjoyable as I would've liked it.

Christ, it was a wonder I hadn't spontaneously combusted yet.

Watari and Mr. Yagami helped me take my bags to my room, which again, turned out to be way the hell up on top. I didn't mind it being up so high; being a New Yorker, I was used to heights. In fact, I liked heights, mostly for the view that came with them. The only problem was the time it took just to get up there, practically fifteen minutes or so, said my mental clock.

I was looking in every direction even before the elevator doors swished open. "My room is on this floor?"

"This entire floor is yours, as a matter of fact," said Watari.

That made me swell up a little, for some reason, like I'd just gotten the keys to my own penthouse, or something. My arms stretched out at my sides like they were trying to embrace the entire thing. "No way! This whole floor…it's mine?"

"Indeed. Everyone will be getting their own floor. This building has been designed to accommodate up to sixty people."

Unless he counted the little handcuff arrangement with L and Light, who would most likely be sharing a floor. Plus a bed, plus a bathroom, plus shower-time—

Ew-ew, stop, stop, bad visuals. Would L really take it that far? It's one thing if the guys are together and that's just something they like to do on the weekend for kicks, but for two straight guys to do that when they've got no good reason to...

Assuming that the two of them were in fact straight...

"Are you all right, Elin?"

"Uhm…nothing. I just felt like throwing up in my mouth, for a second there. I do that when I get forced out of bed in the middle of the night."

Would it have made me a jerk if I stopped to thank my lucky stars that I wasn't in Light's shoes, right now?

Mr. Yagami looked me over funny. I didn't blame him. "Yes, well…at any rate, we're sorry we have to do this, but," he said, "we are going to have to put restrictions on where exactly you can go and when. Light and Amane mustn't know that you're here. Is that understood?"

Boy, was I lucky that school had been dismissed for the summer break. But God, why didn't they tie me to a post, while they were at it? "It would be if I knew why they can't know about me. I'm not some million-dollar diamond or anything."

"We're only doing this to...ensure your safety." I hated how he said that, like he was forcing himself to say it because he couldn't believe any of this himself. Like his son and his girlfriend were so dangerous that they'd tear out my throat the nanosecond they knew I was here. Yeah right, man.

"Gee, thanks. I think. But you know what would really—oh, forget it," I said with a roll of my eyes. "Just show me the pad."

Remember how I said that the first thing I was going to do once we got to the L-cave was go back to sleep? It wasn't. I hadn't bothered to do much more with my bags than plant them by the closet for later, or even get out of my sweatshirt and slacks. I just kicked off my sneakers and flopped onto the bed and tried to catch up on sleep, but it never came. That was the sucky thing about getting woken up in the middle of the night: if you were up for long enough, you'd cross the point where you just couldn't fall back asleep, no matter how tired you'd feel. For me, sleep was pretty much out of the question, not with everything going on.

I buried my face into the pillows. For some reason, my insomnia spell made me think about L, and the bags under his eyes. I wondered if he felt like this on a regular basis? Burning the midnight oil straight into the morning light, working on a case, whatever time he could set aside for sleep disrupted by his awareness of the burden that came with his job, until he'd probably decided to cut out sleeping altogether…

I felt kind of sorry for him, to be honest. I don't know why I suddenly felt sorry for him, him with his backwards way of doing things and personality as crummy as the cakes and cookies he gobbled down. I just did. I felt sorry for all of them, really. Myself, included, naturally. In fact, I spent the last hours before the sun came up, thinking about that, as I tossed and turned from one side of my bed to the other.

Huh. Maybe I was starting to get that thing captives got when they started sympathizing with their captors? What'd they call that? Stockholm syndrome?

…

Soon, everyone else had moved into the building, but of course, I couldn't leave my floor to go out and greet them. Only Matsuda went out of his way to come up and see me. I was looking at the city streets spread out below me from my window, bored to practical death, when I heard him knocking.

"Hi, Elin! Can I come in?"

I let him in, and let me say, in that moment I couldn't remember feeling happier to see him. I even threw my crazy arms around him before he'd even crossed the threshold! I heard the poor guy choke a little on the moment of impact as he froze under my touch.

As soon as I caught myself, my face combusted. I quick dropped him out of the hug. "Ah, s-sorry, Matsui," I stammered, a sheepish hand resting on the back of my neck. "It's been a long day, and I missed you."

"It's okay, Elin," Matsuda grinned, his face even redder than mine was. He even started fiddling with his tie. Understandable, I guess. Hugs weren't too appropriate in our relationship, especially since I wouldn't get to see him much anymore, with his new job. Then again, that's probably why I'd hugged him in the first place. God, would I miss him.

"I missed you, too," said Matsuda.

I propped myself up against the doorway. "So, you're Misa's manager, now, huh?"

"Uh-huh. I still can't believe Ryuzaki let me be Misa-Misa's manager! It's incredible!" His eyes twinkled for a moment, only to soften when they saw the look on my face. "Um, not to say that I won't miss you, though," he quickly added.

"Aw, I'm 'onna miss you, too, you big knucklehead!" I gave him a playful punch on the arm. "You and our fun-tastic rides together! Seriously, I hope Misa has as much fun with you as I have." Matsuda was sort of like a cool older brother to me, like Farley, even, but without one jerky bone in his body. At least, from what I'd seen. "No, I don't just hope so; I know she will."

"Don't worry, Elin. Maybe, when I'm not working as Misa's manager, we can still spend time together?" I doubted that. I didn't know much about managing celebrities, except that it must've been a pretty busy occupation. As somewhat scatterbrained as he was, Matsuda would get so wrapped up in his job—both out of obligation and puppyish adoration for Misa—he'd barely have the time to even say "Hi."

But hey. For the umpteenth time, who asked me?

Trying to keep the sadness out of my smile, I told him, "Don't worry about me. You just think about doing your job. You better get going; I don't want to hold you up."

Matsuda arched an eyebrow. "Are you okay? Are you sure you don't need anything?"

"Haha, sure, sure. You're a manager, now, Matsui. Let's see you puff out your chest and act like one."

…

With Matsuda back downstairs, it gave me the opportunity to venture around the place a little, like a gerbil exploring its new cage, its new luxurious, twenty-three-story cage, not counting the two floors below ground—I mean it! The place was a practical rip-off of the Batcave™. After wondering which part of the building I could visit first that was most isolated, I snuck up onto the rooftop, and was glad I had. It was such a nice day out, and the late morning sun felt wonderful on my skin. Not to mention, the city looked kind of tranquil baking underneath it.

It made me feel a bit sorry I couldn't get down there and enjoy the day with everyone else. I almost instantly forgot my feelings, however, when I found a pair of helicopters—yes, helicopters!—sitting on the roof. I hadn't seen the copter pad from on the ground.

Like I'd never seen a helicopter before, I crept over to one of them, daring myself to reach out and touch the body. I barely got a brush when I drew back, waiting for a stupid security alarm to go off. Nothing happened, but I sure didn't stay for much longer than that.

Before long, I was back indoors, sidled up against the wall as I caught my breath…and the guts to sneak into the elevator so I could go lower. I felt kind of like a spy, caught in a deadly tango with the danger of getting caught, except I wasn't sure if spies felt as anxious as I did, palms sweaty and heart racing. Maybe they did?

I wondered if James Bond™ ever felt this way when he started out?

I don't even know why I kept going, when the more rational part of me begged me to turn back while I still could. My eyes stayed trained on the goal…whatever the hell the "goal" was supposed to be. My fingers made a motion as though I were tipping my hat, even though I wasn't wearing it.

Erin, wait! Turn around before someone sees you!

It'll be all right; I'm just gonna be in-and-out. I'm a journalist. Sometimes I've got to take risks.

Yeah, but is this one even NECESSARY? What're trying to accomplish, exactly?

I didn't really have an answer for that one. My ears buzzed so bad, I could hardly hear myself think anymore, like I had a hornet's nest stuck in my head.

Soon I stopped at a room about five, six floors below mine, clamoring inside before anyone could see me go in. Whoever lived in this room left the door unlocked and everything. The room looked about as posh as mine, except it smelled funny. Not bad-funny, more of a spicy, feminine kind of funny, sort of like potpourri from a craft store, or perfume from a department store. The cake and tea sitting on the coffee table helped to enhance the smell. For a sweet, far-too-brief moment, I relaxed.

Until I heard the muffled sound of footsteps from the other side of the wall. Without sparing a minute's worth of thought, I hopped over the couch and scrambled into the bathroom, cowering behind the door as I left it ajar. The bathroom smelled even stronger than the den, almost intoxicating. Also, I figured out who lived in this suite as my uneasy gaze darted around. I noticed a couple lacy bras, stockings, and a slip dangling in the shower stall.

Misa. This had to be Misa's room, then. Besides me, there was only one girl in the group. The style of the underwear was sort of a tip-off, too. Apparently, Misa had a penchant for spider webs and skulls and stuff like that.

Sure enough, though, I saw Misa march in from my crack in the door, her hand gripping Light's wrist in almost the same way L's handcuff did around his other. Of course, L followed suit, as listless as he'd ever looked…and more?

"Well, you guys aren't doing anything, so Misa sees no reason why Light can't take a break! Even if we have to let Ryuzaki stay," she said with a scowl. L didn't say a word. His eyes stayed trained on the snacks waiting for them on the coffee table. I quick ducked away from the crack. Did he see me? Did any of them see me?

Oh please don't have to use the bathroom, oh please don't have to use the bathroom, oh please don't have to use the bathroom—

No one had to use the bathroom. The three of them made themselves comfortable on the sofas on either side of the table: Light and L on one, Misa parallel to Light on the other. For a while, that's all they did: sit there and stare at one another in a silence thick with tension. From who towards whom, I couldn't tell. The only sounds in the room were my own shallow breathing and L's grunting as he made swift work of his piece of cake. Forget detecting; why didn't he just sign up as a competitive eater? He'd have been the king.

I don't know how long we all stayed that way, but judging by the way my legs had started to fall asleep underneath me, I figured it to be too long. But at the same time, I didn't really want them to move. I'd be dog meat if any of them got up to use the bathroom.

Although…whose fault would that be, really?

Misa sat cross-legged, her cheek resting in her hand. She took it upon herself to break the silence: "Hey, this doesn't feel very much like a date." You didn't know that when you dragged the boys into your room, Misa? L was like a black hole, sucking whatever romantic mood she'd been in clean out of the atmosphere.

L still had his fork protruding out of his mouth. I swear, the guy had some kind of oral fixation; he always had to have either something going in his mouth (i.e. his finger, junk food), or coming out (i.e. words). "No, no, please, don't mind me. By the way, are you going to eat that piece of cake?" He pointed at Misa's slice. I bet that was why he hadn't argued about having Light pulled away from work. There would be cake.

"Cake makes you fat. I'm trying to avoid it." Not sure why being fat concerned her so much; the girl was a doll in terms of figure. A doll with a perky Goth twist.

L tapped on his head. "Actually, I've found that you won't gain any weight as long as you burn the calories by using your brain." Oh, so that was his secret to keeping that string bean physique? What do you know? I actually got something out of this stupid espionage escapade, after all. Here I was, thinking the glutton had a radioactive metabolism or something.

I could see Misa's pigtails prickle, as though they had turned into horns on top of her head. "Ah! So now you're making fun of Misa? Fine! I'll give you the piece of cake if you leave me and Light alone!" Forget it, Misa. Negotiating with L was like kicking a cinder block: only you'd get the broken toes.

"Even if I leave you alone, I'd still be watching on the surveillance cameras. So it wouldn't make any difference."

Cameras…

Oh, crap! Erin, you jackass! How could you forget the cameras? The others had probably seen me sneak down to Misa's floor! The only reason they hadn't burst in yet to drag me out must've been because Misa and Light were right there. It'd look worse for them than I'd already made it. If I hadn't been too scared to move, that would've made one of the best face-palm moments ever.

"You pervert! Can you stop it with your creepy hobby?" barked Misa, lurching forward.

L? He just rose up from his monkey-crouch to swipe the plate off the table, somehow managing to keep the fork in his mouth as he told Misa, "You can call me whatever you like. I'm still taking your cake." Spoiled brat.

As he nestled back into his crouch, I saw a devilish grin crawl over Misa's face. "All right, then. I'll just close the curtains and turn off the lights."

Unshaken, L replied, "The cameras detect infrared, as well."

Misa looked about ready to rip that fork out of his mouth and gut him with it. What'd I tell you, Misa? Like kicking a cinder block.

Somehow, watching these three kind of reminded me of this dumb play I learned about in school, the one with the three jerks stuck in a room in Hell with no exit. Except instead of two girls and a guy, I had two guys and a girl.

Light, who hadn't said much of anything since this "date" had started, finally spoke up, but not necessarily in his girl's defense. "What's wrong with you? I thought moving here was supposed to help us catch Kira. But since we've been here, you haven't seemed all that motivated to me."

L cocked his fork in mid-air. "Not motivated?"

Pause.

Something tinged his voice. Oh, he still sounded pretty listless, but this was a different kind of listless. A kind I was well-acquainted with, that I never would've guessed that someone of the likes of him would ever experience.

"You're right. Actually, I'm depressed."

Light and Misa perked up in curiosity. I know I did. "Depressed? What for?"

L took a forkful of cake and shoveled it into his mouth. "Well," he mumbled between bites, "truthfully, all this time, I thought that you were Kira, and my entire case was based on that." He gulped. "I guess I just can't get past the fact that my deduction was wrong. Of course, I'm still suspicious of you…hence why we're wearing these." The chain softly rattled as he raised his wrist to display the handcuff.

After only one bite, he put the plate down. That's how I got a clue on how down he really felt. Then he started rolling his head around, like he was having a hard time holding it up. Which, considering how hugene his ego was, wasn't that surprising. "Then again, Kira can control people's actions…"

Suddenly, I found my hands pressing down on my head. WHAT? Kira could do WHAT?

I began to wonder if maybe there were some things I'd been better off not knowing, no matter how fantastic the stories behind them could be.

"…which means that it's highly likely that Kira was controlling your actions so that I would suspect you, since you've been involved with the NPA and therefore could access their information. If I assume that you and Misa were being controlled by him, everything we've observed so far would make much more sense to me...except perhaps the part about you two still being alive," he muttered as he placed his chin on his knees.

"If that's what you think," said Light, "Misa and I were both Kira in the time we were being controlled, right?"

"Yes. I don't think I could've been wrong about that. Both of you are Kira."

I could just feel the hostility between the three of them piling up with every word and pause they shared. I, on the other hand, had no idea how I felt except that I'd begun to tremble. So…they had been killing? They'd just been brainwashed into doing it? Forget action; this was starting to sound like something out of a bad horror flick.

"According to my theory, when your confinement began, you were Kira. I don't find it coincidence that as soon as we imprisoned you, the killings stopped. Until then, everything pointed to you being Kira. But after two weeks, criminals began dying again." Oh, now he tells them the truth?

"Based on that, I can only conclude…that Kira's power passes between people."

Light seemed thoughtful. "Interesting idea. But if that's the case, then it'll be nearly impossible to catch him." I was impressed just by how seemingly well he'd taken being lied to during confinement.

"Yes. That's why I'm overwhelmed," moaned L. "Even if we catch someone under his control, they will likely lose their powers, along with any memory of their crimes. In the end, the pursuit becomes futile."

Light reached over to place a hand on L's shoulder, in the name of good old camaraderie, however short-lived it'd turn out to be. "But right now, we have no way of knowing if that's the case. Cheer up, would you?"

L glanced at his handcuff-mate. "Cheer up? No, I'm sorry, I can't. It's probably better if I stop trying so hard." He hooked a finger into his mouth and shifted his gaze towards the ceiling. "By chasing Kira so desperately, we're only putting our lives at risk for nothing. Yes. It's just a waste of time," he sighed, resting his eyes back on the plate of half-eaten cake on the table.

I couldn't remember another time when I wanted so much to jump out there and give old L a noogie…unless I counted the time I'd actually done it. Look, it wasn't that I didn't feel sorry for him. As someone who barked up the wrong tree on a regular basis, it was hard not to feel at least a bit sorry for the next guy who'd just made a fool out of himself, no matter how crummy he was. In fact, his depression was about every bit as much my problem as it was his, Light's, and everyone else's.

How? Simple: L had told me that he wouldn't let me go until he'd caught Kira. Now, right before my eyes, he was turning yellow. If he went yellow on us, the investigation wouldn't move forward. If the investigation didn't move forward, Kira would never be caught. If Kira was never caught, then I'd be stuck here forever. Well, that, and more and more people would continue to die needlessly, in Japan and elsewhere around the world. That mattered, too.

What happened to the nut-cracker who'd forced me to have dinner with him and hadn't let me leave since? Where'd he go? "World's Wonder Detective Turns Into A Weenie"…a calamity, for God's sake! And for what? Because his one little deduction had missed the mark?

Which is why, while I couldn't say I completely agreed with what Light did in response, I sort of did agree. Old L was cruisin' for a bruisin'. He'd been begging to have his ass kicked for a while, but much more so now than ever, if that was possible. All of a sudden, Light rose from the couch, looking pretty decided. My gut wrenched into balloon animals when I saw him raise his fist, higher than he should've. Unless...

"Ryuzaki?"

L looked up. For a guy who acted like he had ESP, he walked right into it.

WHACK!

Holy smokes, right in his kisser! Who'd have thought Light had it in him!

The air shattered almost like it had when I'd heard that blank all those days before, as L flew clean across the room, limbs flailing, dragging Light along with him: what you get for deciding to take a swing at a guy you were handcuffed to. In that one moment, Misa's living room exploded into a battlefield! Table flipping over, potted plants fainting on impact, dishes shattered, poor old Misa squealing in horror as she staggered away…only to squeal even more when she heard a soft squishing under her feet. Turned out she stepped on the cake.

She grimaced, as though she had stepped in a hot pile of dog crap. While Misa frantically wiped at the bottom of her foot, I struggled to get back on my feet. In all the ruckus, I assumed that they hadn't heard me yelp and land on my ass. In the meantime, L sat up against the wall, passing Light a blank, lopsided look. He looked like a broken doll from his place on the floor; I thought I could even see a blackish-blue bruise already forming on his upper jaw, where Light had socked him.

"That hurt," he said, in his normal deadpan way, like he hadn't just been launched across the room off of Light's knuckles.

"Don't fuck with me! You don't feel like doing anything, just because your genius deduction was wrong and I'm not Kira?" The growl in Light's voice, a kind of growl I had never before heard from him, had me holding on to the doorknob like a life-line. I wasn't even in this brawl, and I was still flinching all over.

L wiped his mouth with his forearm. "Fine, perhaps I phrased that the wrong way," he muttered. "I meant that it would be pointless for us to make a move, so we shouldn't even bother—"

Light roared right over him, "If we don't chase Kira, he'll never be caught! Is that what you want? You're the one who said that you wouldn't rest until you sent Kira to his execution! If you were just going to give up, then why did you involve all of those innocent people?"

Yeah, like me, I thought, too paralyzed to put it to words, or even to take the time to feel indignant. I saw Light storm over to L's crooked form and hoist him up by the shirt.

He practically screamed in his face: "More importantly, what was the point of putting Misa and me behind bars?"

I couldn't see L's face; Light was sort of blocking it with his intimidating stance. I had to strain my ears just to hear L's reply.

"I understand." He was much quieter than Light, for sure, not nonetheless dark and dangerous. This was almost the same tone he'd used on me when I'd said he couldn't keep me around until Kira was caught. "But still…whatever the reason…"

Remember how I'd said that L was missing martial arts skills? Well…

BAM!

One second, he'd been dangling by the collar of his shirt. The next, he dipped backward, hoisting up his leg with a kind of grace that I'd have never guessed he had, what with how he didn't look like he could fight his way out of a paper bag. I don't know what the hell fighting style that was, exactly. Karate? Kung fu? Capoeira? All I knew of was the explosion of cartilage against bone as Light took his turn getting catapulted across the room off the ball of L's heel.

"An eye for an eye, my friend," I thought I heard Fuzzy say.

At that point, Misa had decided to duck behind the upset coffee table as a kind of makeshift shelter from the fray. My sentiments, exactly; I found it a miracle I hadn't gone and pissed my pants. And yet…as shaken up as I was, I couldn't help but marvel at the way those two soared back and forth, limbs flying out in all directions, the rattle of the handcuffs drowned out by their hollering their heads off as they crash-landed into the sofa, easily toppling it over on its back with their combined force. I'd have to use a run-on sentence just to try describing the show unfolding in front of me!

For the record, it wasn't that I condoned violence. I didn't, honest, I didn't. Save fighting for the flicks. Yet, for all the confusion and pent-up hostilities pouring out in fists and feet, there was something kind of fascinating about the way those two moved. I don't know, maybe it's a biological thing: two tough guys rumble, while Misa and I, female bystanders, feel compelled to watch them, maybe even cheer them on, some. Not out loud, naturally, and not really for either of them, in particular; they both left me in awe.

That's the only explanation I can come up with for that. Why do the most fascinating things have to be things you don't want to be fascinating?

In the meanwhile, L assumed a gargoyle crouch on the upturned couch cushions, supporting himself on his hands, something mildly predatory in the way he glared at his sparring partner as he hissed, "It's not my deduction that was wrong. I can say that Light Yagami is Kira, and Misa Amane is the Second Kira. But it won't be enough to solve the case, and that's why I'm a little depressed. Is that really so unreasonable?"

This is the same guy who once tried to lecture me about how emotions caused problems, when I made that big stink about what he did to Light, Misa and Mr. Yagami. Maybe it's not unreasonable to get depressed about stuff, but you can't talk like that from one side of your mouth and then pardon yourself on the other side when you're guilty of the same thing you're condemning.

While L hissed, Light roared, "Yes, it is unreasonable! You should listen to yourself! It's as if you won't be satisfied unless I am Kira!" I didn't know too much about their relationship, but something told me that the blood between these two was pretty sour, at best. Why bother working with somebody you couldn't even get along with, at least, enough to not want to kill each other?

"…I won't be satisfied unless you are Kira?" L echoed darkly. "There may be some truth to that." As he rose up, so did Light, as though they were charging up for round two. "In fact, now that you've mentioned it…you're right. I think I wanted you to be Kira."

The truth floweth forth, huh?

POW!

This time, I wasn't just in awe; I was dumbfounded. Light lodged his fist right into L's eye socket, trying to paint his eye even blacker than it already was. But this time, L didn't fly, probably because he had seen this blow coming. He stood planted right where he was standing, no matter how hard Light pressed, like a frail little tree against the wind.

Huh, maybe he wasn't such a weenie, after all?

He grunted, "Like I said before, an eye for an eye. I'm a lot stronger than I look, you know." He whirled right around, like a dancer or something, as he treated Light's face to a second helping of heel.

But Light was just as tough. He quickly bounced back from the recoil as he yanked L closer to him by the chain of their handcuffs. Soon they were locked in a kind of battle stance—sort of artistic in a twisted way—the fabric of their shirts balled up in one another's fists while they raised their other fists over their heads, each of them ready to paint the room with blood, bone and brains as Misa and I looked on from the safety of cowardice—

—until the phone rang.

L immediately released Light, Light doing the same, as he crouched over by the phone, which had somehow managed to survive the brawl.

Pinching the receiver up to his ear by its top end, he said, "Yes? Oh, I see."

Click!

He hung it up. Except he didn't just place it into the cradle, like most people would. He let it drop into place, like a stone or a bowling ball.

As if they hadn't just been getting ready to kill each other, Light asked, "Who was that?" I mean it. Boys. I couldn't figure them out, sometimes. And they say us chicks are crazy.

"Matsuda's being stupid, again," said L dismissively.

"Hm. Well, that is his specialty."

Then the stupidest, worst possible thing happened.

I sneezed. Twice.

It must've been the smell of the bathroom; it'd been making my nose twitch something awful. I tried my best to hold in the first one, my eyes nearly popping out of their sockets. My dad had always told me that I shouldn't hold back a sneeze; "it's a surefire way to give yourself a stroke." I would agree with that if it weren't for the fact that I always seemed to sneeze at the wrong time.

Sure enough, my head throbbed. I guess I didn't get a stroke; instead, I got so distracted by the pain that I'd lost all my bearings to hold back the second one.

"A-CHOO!"

I had a lousy sneeze. Mine was the kind that, if I stood on top of the Alps or something, and I did it, would reduce the whole damn mountain to a pile of rubble and snow. It could've been my imagination, but I could hear it echo all across the bathroom, the whole suite, the entire floor, for Christ's sake, bouncing off the walls like jeers.

"Bless you."

"Th-that wasn't Misa, Light."

Bus-ted!

The one time the guys finally listened to me, I hadn't wanted them to. Irony sucks.

I tried to cram myself into Misa's linen closet when I heard the three of them heading towards the bathroom, like how I used to cram myself into the linen closet when I was a kid for kicks. I didn't have much space to work with, this time, though: one of the many drawbacks to growing up.

I knew the jig was up and everything, but that didn't keep me from staring petrified up at the three of them as soon as Misa had torn open the closet, sending me tumbling to the floor on my knees. Was this how a rabbit felt when snarling wolves had it backed into the corner?

The room had suddenly become too hot to bear.

"Uh…don't mind me." I waved at them, while my other hand tugged at the collar of my shirt. "Heh-heh, me, I'm just, uhm…coming out of the closet?"