Chamber of Echoes

13th day of Light's confinement

Ostensibly, Ryuzaki was curled on the bed sleeping. Ostensibly.

In reality, though, he guessed that he hadn't actually slept very much, if at all. He'd glance at the digital clock on the bedside table, next to the pudding, every now and then, and sometimes he noticed that he lost hours, so he presumed that perhaps he'd actually slept.

Most of the time, however, he was adrift, half-conscious, in a dark-gray fog of thoughts, sensations, and some things that he supposed were probably some emotion or another, though they were vague and difficult he identify. Since he was sure that identifying them would not prove useful to the case, which seemed to have gone cold anyway, he left them unexamined, unwilling to waste the energy it would take to do so.

His attention was better spent in the company of his thoughts, which, if not necessarily completely uninfluenced by whatever emotions might be permeating the atmosphere of his mind, were at least significantly more tangible and logical, and far more likely to help him find a way forward.

He had never failed to solve a case yet, and he wasn't about to let this one go just because he was truly stumped for once. He solved difficult cases purely for the challenge of doing so, as he often reminded others, and the more challenging this case became the more intrigued and determined he became. Only death would be able to pry his the vice-like grip of his steel-trap mind from it.

He didn't feel hungry, but he couldn't remember the last time he'd eaten something, so he figured that he probably should. Maybe it would help him think.

Sitting up slowly, he turned to look at the bedside table, the ceramic mug covered in plastic wrap.

So you knew I wouldn't be eating it for a while, Watari.

Moving carefully around the stacks of papers, Ryuzaki perched on the edge of the bed and reached out, carefully undoing the plastic wrap and lifting the cup with his left hand, two fingers pressing the handle between them, and carefully picked up the silver spoon that had been laid on the napkin beside it, dipping it into the tapioca pudding and spooning a bite into his mouth.

It's true that the period before the Kira case was one of my longest periods of ennui since I started detective work. There had been no interesting cases to be found anywhere for months, and I did not have much hope of one occurring. I recall feeling quite delighted when I caught wind of Kira's actions and saw the tantalizing mystery in them.

The mellow, sweet creamy flavor of the pudding melted over his tongue, and he pressed the soft tapioca balls against the roof of his mouth, rolling them around till they dissolved. The tapioca pudding tasted exactly as he remembered tapioca pudding tasting, except somehow not as pleasing.

But if I somehow acquired Kira's killing power during that time of ennui, would I really have done something so childish and desperate as use it to kill criminals while pretending to solve the case by framing Light Yagami?

He dipped the spoon down for another bite, only to pause, watching the pudding tremble. His gaze shifted to his hand, which was shaking minutely. He tried to still it.

I suppose I have to admit that something of that nature would likely occur to me, and I was indeed in such a state of Weltschmerz that I would probably have not hesitated to carry it out.

No matter how hard he tried to keep his hand still, the pudding was still trembling.

Aizawa was sitting on the couch, eyes clenched shut as he rubbed the bridge of his nose, trying to ease away the tension coiled between his eyes.

A few feet away Mogi was sitting in the armchair, dutifully keeping an eye on the monitors, as taciturn and stoic as ever.

Technically his shift was already over, but Aizawa was loath to leave. The fact that they had yet to inform the Chief of the possibility that Ryuzaki was Kira was grating at his conscience, and he wanted to tell him as soon as possible. Originally, he'd thought it would be better to wait and see if the killings started up again before deciding whether or not to tell the Chief about the theory, since it hadn't seemed very likely to him that Ryuzaki could have done all the work of being both Kira and L while framing Light, and there wasn't any proof unless the killings started up again while Light was confined.

But with every passing day that no criminals died of heart attacks and Ryuzaki became increasingly more sullen, retreating completely into the bedroom and becoming increasingly uncaring and unwilling to do anything at all while the Chief and Light suffered in their prison cells—the Chief no doubt spending the entire time agonizing about how it was almost definite that his son was a mass murderer—the more convinced Aizawa became that Ryuzaki had the potential to be Kira.

At that pointed he'd decided that Chief had to be informed about how the direction of the case had changed—but, as Watari had pointed out to him, it would be better to wait for Matsuda's return to hear his report on Light and then get his opinion on what to do. As much as waiting for Matsuda to come back vexed him, Watari's points had made sense. He'd already talked it over with Mogi, and they'd decided that it was indeed the best course of action.

But still, I can't believe Matsuda's been gone for six days! Aizawa thought exasperatedly, hand moving up his face to try to rub the tension from his forehead. Surely it doesn't take that long to do a few interviews! What the hell is he wasting time doing? I wouldn't be at all surprised if he's spent the past few days sitting in a hospital after getting hit by a car because he wasn't looking where he was going.

Even as he dwelled darkly on this thought, there was the sound of hurried footsteps out in the hall, and then Watari—Aizawa nearly jumped at hearing the old man's voice, having forgotten that he was there—was informing them that Matsuda had returned and opened the door.

"Ryuzaki, I'm back!" Matsuda cried excitedly as he came in, grinning for some inconceivable reason. "I've finally finished!"

Well speak of the devil, Aizawa thought, raising his head to look at him with narrowed eyes. He seems fine; guess he didn't get hit by a car and hospitalized after all.

"Wow, I have so much material!" Matsuda was gushing. "I feel like I could totally actually write an article about Light now!"

He's giddy like my daughter when she's proud of a crayon drawing, thought Aizawa, a wave of irritation washing over him (I feel like I haven't seen her in ages…).

Matsuda paused, then, subduing somewhat as he glanced around the hotel room. "Uh, where's Ryuzaki?" he asked meekly.

God, Aizawa thought irritably, he's like a dog who thought his master was coming home, only to realize it was a false alarm.

"Here," Ryuzaki said, stepping out of the bedroom for the first time in days, looking even worse than Aizawa remembered him looking; his hair more of a mess, his clothes more wrinkled, the dark circles beneath his eyes more pronounced. What the hell? Hasn't he been sleeping the entire time?

"Did you find anything interesting, Matsuda?" Ryuzaki asked, loping over to the armchair that Mogi had vacated, stepping onto the cushion and crouching backwards in the chair so that he was peeking at Matsuda over the backrest.

"Well, he's popular and seems to have a lot of friends, and everyone really likes him," Matsuda said, pulling a surprisingly thick stack of papers out from under his arm and glancing down at it, beginning to flip the pages, skimming the contents. "But at the same time, it doesn't seem like he has any real friends. Everyone kind of treats him like a celebrity, you know? And there are a lot of pretty ridiculous rumors about him floating around, such as people claiming that they've heard he's actually a foreign operative and in his twenties and is only pretending to be a teenage student in order to trick and eventually infiltrate the Japanese government…"

Aizawa could feel a muscle in his brow starting to twitch.

Matsuda looked up at them, laughing slightly. "Anyways, I don't think any of them have any merit." He glanced back down at the papers again, his expression becoming more thoughtful. "Though he does seem to have had a lot of girlfriends," he continued, "but apparently he's only ever went on one or two dates with each of them, though none of the girls were bitter against him at all or anything, since apparently he 'doesn't belong to any one of them alone' but instead 'belongs to all of them,' and—"

"Matsuda!" Aizawa snapped, half-rising from his seat on the couch as he slammed a hand down on the armrest, causing everyone to look at him. "Please stop with the gossip!"

"Right, sorry," Matsuda said quickly, scratching at the back of his neck as he chuckled awkwardly. "I just thought it was interesting… sorry," he added, when Aizawa continued glowering at him.

Aizawa slowly sat back down, still glaring. "Did you find anything that suggests that he either is or isn't Kira?" he ground out. If you literally spent the past six days doing nothing but collecting useless gossip… he grit his teeth.

"Well…" Matsuda said, expression sobering as he flipped through the papers again, "mostly everything everyone said suggested that he isn't. All the reports were that he's really kind to everyone and likes to help people out—apparently he's helped tutor a lot of his classmates in various subjects, and he's helped his younger sister a lot with her homework. There were no reports of him being cruel to anyone—not even from his younger sister, who claims that he's always been a great older brother and his never picked on her. Which is pretty unusual… I mean," he scratched at the back of his neck again, chuckling somewhat bashfully, "my older brothers picked on me all the time, heh heh…"

Matsuda, you idiot… Aizawa thought, hands clenching into fists at their position resting on his thighs. "So you didn't find anything suspicious at all?" he ground out through gritted teeth.

"Uhm," Matsuda said, flipping a few more pages of his report and pausing, seeming somewhat hesitant. "Well, there was one incident someone recalled which I suppose could possibly be kind of suspicious… apparently once when he was in junior high school, on a field trip when his classmates were all playing Truth or Dare he was dared to climb to the top of a tree, but he refused because he said it was idiotic and too dangerous, and he didn't want to fall and break his arm. Apparently some of the other boys started calling him a coward, so he told them that if they didn't believe him then they should climb the tree themselves. So apparently one boy did, and he actually did fall and break his arm."

Matsuda scratched at the side of his face with a finger, but kept his gaze on the page, looking somewhat conflicted. "According to my informant, the creepy part was that Light had his phone out and had dialed an ambulance and was reporting the boy's injuries seconds before he actually fell and broke his arm, as well as twisting his ankle. According to my informant, he'd reported all the boy's exact injuries before they even happened, right down to which arm and which ankle."

Aizawa's jaw slackened, and he felt a chill go down his spine. "Kira's power…?" he thought aloud, mind racing. Could it be possible he'd had the ability all that time, from such a young age…?

"Did the boy die?" Ryuzaki broke through his thoughts, finally speaking up.

"No," Matsuda answered, looking up at them. "My informant just said it disturbed her because of how accurate he was, and the fact that he let the boy get injured and had actually egged him into doing it, rather than trying to prevent the injury from happening in the first place."

"If the boy didn't die, it couldn't have been Kira's power," Ryuzaki said. "It wouldn't make any sense for him to have had the power when he was younger, anyway, since he would surely have been using it and there would be far more suspicious occurrences related to him. My guess is that Kira started using his powers very shortly after he gained them."

"But then how did he know how the boy would be injured?" Aizawa asked, unable to ignore the sick feeling coiled tightly in his gut. "And why didn't he stop him?"

"That's not that strange," Ryuzaki said, tilting his head to glance over at him with unimpressed dark eyes. "It's not that hard to guess the kinds of injuries one will get falling out of a tree, and he probably knew the boy well enough to know such things about him as whether he was left- or right-handed, which would make it easier to guess which arm would break, for example."

Ryuzaki's dark gaze moved up to the ceiling, and he pressed a thumb to his lips. "As for why he didn't stop the boy," he continued, "it would probably have been a useless endeavor—it's difficult to talk sense into boys of that age, and nobody would have believed him. If he wanted people to listen to him in the future, though, then making that prediction and having it be proved correct would give him the authority to possibly prevent similar incidences in the future, since his peers would be more likely to take his word for something. Also, calling for an ambulance even before the boy fell would just mean that the ambulance would get there faster, and the boy would be treated sooner. So if this story is true, it speaks more to Light's strategic ability and good will then anything else."

Ryuzaki moved his thumb from his lip, looking at them. "Still, though, the problem with interviewing people is that memories are fallible and prone to distortion," he pointed out, "so this report may have been exaggerated, or even unknowingly partially fabricated by the informant. As such, we should take it with a grain of salt."

Aizawa stared at him. You really saw nothing creepy about that story…?

"Uh, yeah," Matsuda said awkwardly. "Anyways, that was basically it, for suspicious stuff." He shrugged. "Light really just seems to be a normal teenager, aside from his unusual maturity and intelligence. I do have transcripts of all my interviews, though," he said, indicating the stack of papers in his hand, "if you want to look through it."

"Yes, I will do that," Ryuzaki said, standing up on the chair and stepping over the armrest to the floor, taking the papers from Matsuda's grasp, holding them in front of him between his thumb and forefinger as he did with everything else.

Ryuzaki took a step but then paused, his other hand grasping the back of the armchair. "Oh, but Watari…"

"Yes, Ryuzaki?" Watari said from where he'd been standing behind Aizawa, nearly causing him to jump again. Goddamnnit, Watari's too quiet! It creeps me out!

"I think there's something wrong with me," Ryuzaki said, and Aizawa could practically feel the way everyone turned at the same time to stare at him in shock. Wait, what?

Watari was the only one who seemed unruffled by the statement. "What is it?" he asked patiently.

"I feel…" Ryuzaki paused, thinking. "Dizzy and nauseated," he decided on finally. "And my heart is beating oddly fast." He ignored the rest of them completely, directing his attention only to Watari. "It is somewhat disturbing."

"It sounds like symptoms of low blood sugar," Watari answered easily, sounding almost as if he'd expected it. "Which would make sense, since you've barely eaten anything in the last four days."

Ryuzaki blinked at him. "It's been that long?"

"You have no internal clock or concept of time," Watari said under his breath, so quietly that Aizawa doubted he would have heard it had the older man not been standing close behind him.

Apparently Ryuzaki had had no trouble at all hearing it, though. "So you've said," he stated, and glanced up at the ceiling for a moment. "Very well," he said, gaze shifting back to Watari. "I'll try to eat something. Not the pudding, though. There's something wrong with it."

"Something wrong with it?" Watari asked.

"Yes," Ryuzaki said, and met his gaze with dark, grave eyes. "It won't stop shaking."

What the hell? Aizawa thought.

"I see," said Watari decorously, after a pause. "I will procure something else for you, then."

"Thank you very much," Ryuzaki said. "Now if you'll all excuse me," he held up the papers he was still holding between his thumb and forefinger, "I'll go read through these in the bedroom."

With that Ryuzaki let go of the armchair and loped across the room, still holding the papers in front of him, and disappeared around the door frame into the other room.

For several moments everyone was still and silent. Watari was the first one to move, heading for the door that led to the hall.

"…What was that?" Matsuda asked finally, voice cautious.

Watari paused with his hand on the doorknob. "Ryuzaki isn't very good at taking care of himself," he said.

"Evidently not…" Aizawa muttered, rubbing a hand over his forehead.

"If you will excuse me, I will return shortly," Watari said, and slipped out of the room, the door shutting with a click behind him.

"So being a genius comes with some drawbacks, huh?" Matsuda said thoughtfully, glancing over at the bedroom where the detective had disappeared. "I guess even Ryuzaki is human…"

Aizawa couldn't help looking over at the monitor showing Light's cell, the youth sitting on the floor with his knees drawn up, staring out at nothing. Being a genius comes with drawbacks, huh? he thought.

"That's pretty strange, though, that he hasn't been eating much lately," Matsuda continued, scratching at the side of his cheek, brow furrowed. "I swear he's almost always eating some sweet of some sort."

"Well, he's probably depressed now that he's also been accused of being Kira," Aizawa shrugged.

"Yeah..." Matsuda said, trailing off. "Can't blame him. I mean, it's got to be hard.. being accused of being a mass murderer..."

"Yeah," Aizawa said flatly. Especially if you are the mass murderer...

Looking away from Matsuda's irritatingly forlorn expression, he glanced at the monitor showing Chief Yagami's cell, the man hunched over in the foldable chair with his head in his hands. "All that's left now is to inform the Chief…"

Ryuzaki could hear the Task Force talking from where he was curled on the bed among all the papers.

It wasn't a very interesting conversation, though, and he quickly grew tired of listening to it. (If only they'd leave so that there would be some silence so he could think—)

If I was indeed Kira and orchestrated all this, what would have been my game plan? he wondered, biting at the nail of his thumb. It's difficult to objectively analyze myself in that way… I don't want to have been Kira, because at this rate that would mean I'd probably end up executed… although even if Light was Kira I may end up dead anyway…

He glanced down at Matsuda's report laying on the bed in front of him, taking the first page by the corner with two fingers and flipping carefully, scanning the overview. Matsuda really went all out on this assignment, he thought. It looks like, aside from of course Soichiro Yagami, he's interviewed nearly everyone who could possibly be connected to Light in any way. His deductive skills aren't great, but he does seem to excel at tasks involving the careful navigation of conversations and social situations—more so than anyone else here, except perhaps for Light.

Ryuzaki flipped to the first page of interview transcripts. I doubt that there's anything in this report that will suggest that Light either is Kira or is not, but anything I can learn about Light could prove useful for figuring out the way that he thinks, which could help me determine what, if he were Kira, his game plan would be. And if I can figure out what his strategy would be, it should help me determine more objectively what would be my own, and any similarities or differences between what strategies we would use could help me figure out where to go from here in solving this case.

The conversation in the other room long tuned out, Ryuzaki began reading.

So absorbed was he in his task that when Watari entered and set a plate of fruit and cheesecake beside him, he ate it on autopilot and noted neither the sweetness of the flavors nor the minute, practically imperceptible shaking of his hand.

Matsuda's eyes were wide in disbelief. "Wait, you haven't told the Chief yet?"

"I was going to," Aizawa said, "but Watari advised me to wait until both you and Mogi returned." He grit his teeth and clenched his fists on his thighs. "I hate that we've been keeping it from him for the past few days."

"Yeah…" Matsuda said, glancing at the screen, expression troubled. "But it's going to be hard to break it to him, isn't it? I mean, I'm sure he'll be glad that the likelihood of his son's guilt has decreased, but he was also the one who said that he trusts Ryuzaki with his life… to have both his love for his son and his trust in Ryuzaki compromised…"

"But he deserves to know," Aizawa stated firmly. "The fact that Ryuzaki could also be Kira has completely changed the course of the case, after all, and we promised that we'd fill him in on any and all developments." He sat up straighter, looking first Mogi and then Matsuda in the eyes. "Informing him is the right thing to do."

"I agree," Mogi said.

"Yeah…" Matsuda said, sighing. "Yeah, you're right. I'm sure the Chief would want to know." He paused. "But, uh, who's going to be the one to tell him?" He chuckled nervously, scratching at the back of his neck. "The Chief can be really scary when he's worked up… so, you know, I'd rather not…"

"I'll do it," Aizawa said, standing up and walking over to the vacant armchair in front of the microphones.

"Okay!" Matsuda said enthusiastically. "You can do this, Aizawa-san!" He clapped the the impassive Mogi on one of the man's broad shoulders, giving Aizawa a grin and a thumbs-up. "Mogi-san and I will be your emotional support!"

Aizawa's finger hovered over the button that would turn on the speakers to the Chief's cell. "Matsuda," he ground out, "shut up."

Soichiro Yagami knew that he—and Light, his son, who was also very probably the single greatest mass murderer the world had seen—had been confined for only thirteen days, but god it felt like longer.

It felt like weeks, months since he'd been confined—months since he'd asked to be confined lest he do something terrible; months since his son had asked to be confined to try to make sure he hadn't been doing something terrible—nothing to do but sit and pace and sit and pace and sit and pace as the certainty that his son was Kira grew stronger with each passing second that no more criminals died from heart attacks, wondering how this could have happened, thoughts and worries and suspicions and doubts and fears hounding him endlessly.

Soichiro wouldn't be surprised if all his hair was gray by the time he got out—assuming that Light wasn't Kir—that he would have to ki—him, and then—himself—that—assuming—he even had peace of mind or time enough to look in a mirror—before he—assuming that—that Light was—was Kir—that—

Light, his son, his only son, his perfect son who'd been his pride and joy; had always been so intelligent, always at the very top of not just his class but the entire nation, maybe even the world; yet had always been so kind, so thoughtful, always offering a smile or a helping hand; had always been so—

(—so intense, at times, a certain aloofness, a certain hint of coldness that would appear for moments so brief as to be almost imagined, but certainly it was only that Light had had a stressful day, or a headache, or a childish fit or teenage impulse, that only seemed so alarming in contrast to how mature and kind and collected he was the vast majority of the time—certainly they were not, could not, have been hints of a murderer in the making—)

No, Light could not been Kira (not consciously, no, no way could he have been Kira consciously, not when he asked to be confined to make sure that he wasn't, not when he was so distressed about the murders and so intent on capturing the killer and having him executed—but unconsciously, could he be…? Was there a split personality that had developed in Light and which he had no conscious awareness of? A second Light that had all of his intelligence but none of his kindness, but who was indistinguishable from the first?)

Kira was evil, and to have a son who was—for his son to be K—to be ev—that would—he would—

But Kira could be no ordinary human, not with those supernatural killing powers. How had Kira (how would Light have) obtained such terrible, evil power? (Such power was not just evil but Evil itself, maybe enough to corrupt the kindest, most thoughtful person, and if—if Light were Kir—if there was a split personality in Light who—would that other him have developed after he gained such power, in a protective response against it, or had it always been present and only after he'd gained the killing power it began to make itself known?)

Thirteen days since Light had been confined, and still no killings—then it had to be—no, it couldn't be, not Light—but somehow it was—Ryuzaki, L, the greatest detective in the world, said—there wasn't any other solution—there was no one else it could be—all the facts lined up—and Ryuzaki was had never been wrong—if he deduced that Light was Kir—then Light was—it had to be Light, as Ryuzaki said—all the facts ligned he knew it had to be—but yet—

No, it couldn't be Light, not Light who always got a hundred percent on his tests, who always ranked top on national exams; Light who always helped his younger sister, who had never once picked on her, not even when they were younger and it was perfectly normal for siblings to quarrel; who helped the police with difficult cases, who had such a strong sense of justice, who knew that murder was always wrong no matter how bad the person was—

No, Light may have been Kira—he trusted Ryuzaki's judgment, knew that the world's greatest sleuth was a more intelligent man than he, and all the facts lined up—but Light could not be Kira. (If he was, then—then there had to be some kind of split personality, some kind of—but even then, he'd—would there be any way to help him? Or was—if he had a split personality who was Kir—in order to stop that side of him they'd need to ki—he'd have to di—even if there was a kind side of him, they'd have to—it was the only way—either that or lock him in a padded cell, and that—no, that, for Light to have to live with the evil side of him like that, that would certainly be even worse that death—)

No, he was getting ahead of himself. There was—it had only been thirteen days. Surely there was—surely there had to be some way that Light could still not be Kir—surely there was someone else who could—surely that person could just coincidentally be taking a break from the killings—surely there was—was a way that—that Ryuzaki, L, the world's greatest detective, was somehow wrong—that Light could still not be Kir—

(Light was his son—was he being biased? Were these vain hopes? Would he be having these doubts if it were anyone else? There was no proof, only suspicion, but—the killings had stopped when Light was confined, and that—was that enough proof? Would that be enough proof if it were someone else, anybody else, besides Light? Would he be anywhere near this conflicted?)

No, he—he was—not thinking rationally—he was too biased, this case was—he was getting too caught up in his role as a father—he wasn't acting as a police chief—this was why he'd asked to be detained, he couldn't trust himself—he had no way of knowing what was doubt stemming from a sense of justice and lack of evidence and what was doubt due to the fact that this was his son—his son, his only son—he couldn't—he didn't—he didn't want his son to be Kir—to be-so he—if Light was, then—but even if Light wasn't, could he—if they didn't find the real killer—assuming that Light wasn't, then—or if he was—or—if there was even the slightest doubt, the slightest possibility that Light could be Kir—then—if there was even the slightest chance that Light could be Kir—a mass murderer—how could he—

(—how could he ever look at his son the same way again? How could he face his wife, his daughter, with the knowledge of even the slightest doubt? Even if they—somehow—found that Kira wasn't Light, and proved it—proved that Light wasn't Kir—had never been, then—even if that happened, would he—would he ever be able to look at Light the way he had before? Would he ever be rid of the suspicion that Light could be—that maybe he wasn't—that those brief moments when he seemed somehow distant—that those were really northing to be alarmed about? That there wasn't any possibility of a split personality in Light who'd be capable of such a thing?)

Ryuzaki was a far more intelligent man than he, especially in matters of deduction and crime—and not only that, but, unlike him, Ryuzaki was unbiased—Ryuzaki had no relation to Light, and would not be blinded by his feelings—Ryuzaki's judgment was far more trustworthy than his own—so if Ryuzaki deduced that Light was Kira, then—then Light had to be—

Sitting and pacing and sitting and pacing and sitting and pacing, the thoughts and worries and suspicions and doubts and fears, the thoughts going around and around and around, hounding him doggedly, getting him absolutely nowhere, the same thoughts over and over and over—he knew his thoughts were getting him nowhere, he knew that, knew that they weren't helping anything—but he couldn't stop. How could he stop, when his son could be Kir—when he could be father to a—?!

"Chief, there's been a development."

"What?!" Soichiro leapt to his feet to stare at the camera, overturning his chair in his haste, heart pounding in his chest and adrenalin rushing in his veins. "Aizawa? What is it?! Good news?! Bad news?! Have the killings started up again?! Where's Ryuzaki?! He wasn't killed was he?!"

"No, the killings haven't started up again. And Ryuzaki is alive, he's just in the bedroom right now (probably sleeping or sulking or something)."

His mind settled slightly even as his heart plummeted. "Then Light is still…"

"The suspicion against Light has decreased somewhat"

His heart gave a jump. "What?!"

"According to Ryuzaki, the probability that Light is Kira is now down to 50 percent."

Hope seized him with its talons, piercing his chest. "Why?! Did something happen?!"

"Yeah… Light deduced that all the evidence against him implicates Ryuzaki just as much. So basically, it's down to a 50 percent chance that Light is Kira because there's a 50 percent chance that Ryuzaki is Kira."

His blood ran cold."What?!"

"Yeah. And according to them, there is absolutely no way to determine which of them it was, since whoever it is no longer has their memories of being Kira. So basically, the case is cold and can't go anywhere unless the killings start up again, which, if what they propose is true, will probably never happen."

"WHAT?!" He could barely breathe, his jaw agape, heart pounding in his ears and blood running so cold that it burned. His jaw worked, but he couldn't speak, his entire body petrified, thoughts a blinding white blank.

What.

Did.

That.

What.

Wait.

What?

"Aizawa, what do you mean?!" he demanded when the hot whiteness started to crack and his thoughts started to leak back through again, growing from drops into trickles, then into streams that grew steadily stronger until his thoughts were like huge waterfalls pouring down on him and he couldn't voice his questions as fast as they were coming.

"What does that mean?!" he demanded, voice rising with the pounding of his heartbeat in his ears. "What do you mean that one of them is Kira, but they don't know who/! How is that even possible?! You're saying that either my son is Kira or we've been following Kira's orders this entire time?! You mean that we can't trust Ryuzaki anymore?! But I can't trust my son either?! If Ryuzaki is just as likely to be Kira than Light is then who's running the investigation?! If the killings don't start up again but we don't know which of them is Kira then how do we solve the case and bring Kira to justice?! Are you saying that we'll never be able to know who Kira is?! Does that mean we have to execute both Light and Ryuzaki?! But we can't do that if one of them is innocent! But we can't let Kira go either! So we just lock them up indefinitely?! What did Light say?! What did Ryuzaki say?! What's going on?!"

He finally paused for breath, panting heavily, sweat trickling down his face, waiting for an answer.

But all he received was a maddening silence, and the longer the silence went on the more difficult it became to breathe.

"Aizawa, what is the meaning of this?!" he demanded.

"Please calm yourself, Yagami-san," came Ryuzaki's voice, and Soichiro stilled, heart pounding in his ears. "The killings will definitely start up again."

Author Notes

If Soichiro's section felt choppy, repetitive, and kinda frustrating - good. It was supposed to.

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- Dizziness, lightheadedness, or shakiness
- Fatigue and weakness
- Fast or pounding heartbeat
- Sweating more than usual
- Headache
- Nausea or hunger
- Anxiety, Irritability, or confusion

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