Guest: ...c: I cannot confirm nor deny that theory. Sorry.
"Sierra, are you alright?" I asked the next day after calling her. She had, fortunately, answered.
"I'm fine," Sierra responded. "The fact that I'm stuck alone with Mello kinda scares me, but I'm alive and unhurt." She laughed. "Yay, he hasn't killed me yet!"
I chuckled and shook my head. "Sierra, is it possible for you to come home? I'm worried about you…."
"I wish I could," Sierra replied. "I just don't think Mello will let me…. I'll be okay, though. It's not like I'll die or anything."
"I hope not." She wouldn't be stuck alone with Mello like this if Kira weren't back, I thought guiltily. "Still… where are you, Sierra? Can you tell me that much? I won't tell a soul where you are, I just want to know as an assurance you're nearby…."
"Um… do you swear? Because the whole reason I can't leave is because Mello doesn't want anyone to know where he is…. It… it might leak to Near, or Kira."
Oh, the irony.
"But then… we're moving again the day after tomorrow, so…. We're in the alley off of Mitarashi Street in Nagano, between a bar and a McDonald's. Don't tell, okay?"
"I promise not to," I vowed, writing it down. "Thank you. Now I know you're not that far away…. I keep imagining you someplace so far off and unreachable. I miss you, Sierra, you know that?"
"Well, I miss you too. And Anna…. And Sam, too, of course, though we never really see her that often ever since she ran off to America all that time ago. After that she joined L, then she was in the SPK, and now she's solving cases in other countries…."
"I'm sure she's leading an… interesting life," I smiled.
"Yep!" Sierra squeaked. "I hope Anna isn't too bored, not having a job or being involved and all. Maybe she can work with Near!"
"Maybe," I replied.
"I gotta go, though, I don't want Mello to catch me on my phone…. I promised to only use it for emergencies."
I smiled despite myself. "Nice. Bye…."
"Bye!"
I flipped the phone shut.
"You got the place, then, huh?" asked Ryuk, eyeing the paper with his eyelid-less, bulging eyes.
I gave a small nod. Why am I doing this again? I wondered. Why didn't I burn the notebook when I could? It's only making me feel guilty; it's only making people die…. I curled my arms up on my desk and lay my head down in them. At least Misa's with me now…. But… no offense to her, but she probably isn't going to make me feel any better…. I thought back to that morning, where she was complaining about how I saw Light more than she did at this point. Then she accused me of trying to steal him, of course, at which I protested – I wasn't doing anything of the sort. I sighed. What the hell is wrong with me? I'm doing all this, and it's making me fall apart….
I lifted my head. Wait…. I laughed aloud at my own stupidity. If I'm regretting it so much, why do I keep going? If I hate the idea of what I'm doing, why am I doing it? Perhaps I honestly don't regret it and don't hate it! How stupid of me to let those feelings go…. Regret and hatred are bitter things to harbor, but it's healthy to resent having killed a person. Right? Too late now, huh? I chuckled bitterly to myself, shaking my head. Ryuk was looking at me oddly. Well, Ryuk, I thought with a smile that likely didn't reach my eyes, looks like you got the resolve you were waiting for.
"We'll be leaving for the next murder site tomorrow," L informed Sam the night after they had explored the night version of the city.
"Was someone already murdered?" asked Sam, sitting up.
"No…. However, I know for a fact there will be a kill soon."
"Okay…," Sam said. "Did you figure anything out for this murder? Is there a message in this one, too?"
"No. I don't think so."
"I see…." Sam pursed her lips, and it was quiet between them once more. Sam pondered over L's strange behavior the night before, then just moved on to daydreaming.
Then L broke the silence. "My first case outside of England was in this city," he said. "A military officer was the killer."
Sam blinked.
"The murderer behind the cases we're solving right now is taking us on a trip through my own past. The fact this was where my first actual case took place is easy enough to figure out. However… before that, it would be certainly hard to discover. My history is supposedly untraceable. That was what Wammy's was for. Past is lost."
Sam was surprised. Is he actually going to explain what's going on here? Is he… is he going to tell me his past? That would be….
"Axbridge was my hometown, as Roger slipped to you. All of the victims there…. They were all killed by being stabbed multiple times in the chest, do you remember?"
Sam nodded. Well, yeah…. It's hard to forget that….
"My father was killed like that," L said. "I watched it happen. Still, I'm not sure how the killer found this out…." He tightened the grip on his knees a bit. "It could still be coincidence, but I doubt it…. The girl who was found in the town square, Zoe Perdue, was placed in the square where the center of the Blackberry Festival was always held…. When I was eight I went to Wammy's, where the next murder scene was. The victim was fastened to the clock tower, telling me when and where the next murders would happen. There's no need for any other messages, because this message covers it all. Eight days after he was killed, Boris Belikov, this case's victim, was killed…. The killer's pattern suggests that each day represents a year. I was eight when I did my first case out of England, the case in this very city. Now… all we have to do is beat him to a crime scene…."
It was silent a moment as Sam digested this. "So… this killer guy… somehow knows your dad was killed like that? He knows your hometown and all that?"
"Yes."
"…Stalker…. Hey… am I allowed to ask you something?"
"Go ahead."
"What… how did your dad…?"
"That is irrelevant to this case."
"What… what about your mom?"
"She isn't involved here. I have told you all about them that is necessary for you to know during this case."
"…Okay…." Their conversation lapsed into silence, and Sam refrained from saying another word.
"Here," said Mello, and tossed a gun to Sierra.
She let out a squeak as she caught it, nearly dropping it. The gun was a Desert Eagle.
"It's not loaded," Mello added.
"But wasn't it in your pants?"
He frowned at her. "Do you know how to work a gun?" he asked. "There's a warehouse nearby you can use for target practice. I bet this'll be your first time shooting anything."
"I kinda know how to work a gun!" Sierra cried indignantly. "The ammo generally goes in the handle, and you use that little notch thing to cock it; or you slide the top. Easy-peasy. Besides, I've shot a gun before!"
"Really?" he asked dully, pulling the hood of his coat over his head. He didn't sound interested.
Sierra pulled on her own striped jacket, and pulled the hood up. She hid the Desert Eagle in her jacket, and they went out the door. "Yeah! Tony let me shoot a gun at a target once…." She frowned.
"Who the hell is Tony?"
"Never mind."
They went around the block, staying inconspicuous in the mass of people travelling along the sidewalk, then headed for the warehouse Mello had mentioned.
"We're not going in through the roof again, are we?" Sierra giggled.
"Shut up," Mello snapped. "That would have gone smoothly if Matt hadn't screwed things up!"
Sierra laughed.
"Alright," Mello muttered, and pointed to a crate at the far end of the warehouse, "try and shoot the center of that box." Sierra hesitantly pulled out the gun she'd just been given. "If something bad should happen, you might need to use that thing." He handed her the ammo necessary, and she loaded the gun.
Sierra carefully cocked the Desert Eagle, then aimed it steadily at the box on the other end. Her finger closed around the trigger, and the gun shot the bullet.
Mello blinked and frowned.
Sierra cheered. "I hit the center dead-on!" she cried in delight. "Or at least, I think it did…." She squinted. "It looks like it…."
"Shoot again," said Mello, his brow furrowed.
She frowned in concentration, aiming at the crate again. She shot again. It seemed to hit the same place. Sierra laughed at Mello's expression.
"Now, three times in quick succession," he said, gesturing again to the box on the other end.
Sierra beamed, then shot the crate one, two, three times.
"Alright," Mello said slowly. "Come on." He began walking towards the crate, and Sierra followed behind him.
"You know," she said as they walked, "I still don't get why our minds are connected."
Mello grunted noncommittally.
"I mean, it's in our pasts, right? Well… it doesn't make sense, because I was neglected by my idiot mother, while you were abused. It doesn't make sense. We're, like, on opposite ends of the spectrum. We're complete opposites, see? Well, actually, I was neglected and abused because of my mom's multiple violent boyfriends, but I'm guessing you were only abused so it still doesn't make sense…."
"…I was what?" Mello asked.
"Right… you don't know about that…."
"Know about what?" Mello demanded.
"What your life was like before Wammy's."
"I obviously wouldn't know that; I was two!"
"How old was Near when he came to Wammy's?" Sierra asked out of curiosity.
Mello scowled at the mention of the albino, as well as of the abrupt subject change. "He was a toddler."
Sierra blinked. "Oh, wow…." They soon reached the crate to find all of the bullets had found their mark. "Oh yes," said Sierra. "I am so awesome."
"Well…" Mello frowned, "…I guess we're done here, then…."
Sierra squealed happily.
"Don't do that."
"Sorry!" she squeaked.
"Don't squeak like that, either."
"Does it annoy you?"
"Yes."
"Then you shouldn't have taken me along."
"You know that's so they can't find me!"
"Meh…." Things grew quiet as they walked, and Sierra could only listen to all of the city sounds as they made their way back to their current hiding place. It wouldn't take too long to get back to the hideout, and she could refrain from talking for that long, at least... When they reached the alley that held their hiding place, however, they found a drunken man trying to break into their current hideout. "Hey!" Sierra snapped.
The man turned, then fumbled with his jacket, pulling out a gun.
"He's armed!" Mello warned. "Give me the gun. Now!"
Sierra scrambled to pull it out and hand it to him, and he shot at the man in the chest once, and he went down. However, he was still alive, and lifted his own gun, shooting it at Mello. It missed his neck by an inch and hit his hood, causing it to fall back behind his head. The bullet kept going, though, and hit Sierra in the shoulder. She let out a yelp as Mello shot again, and then tried to shoot a third time, but the gun was out of ammo.
At least he'd killed the guy.
"Shit!" Mello barked, wheeling around to look at all the people on the street staring at him.
"Criminal!" a woman shrieked.
Did they not see that that guy was a criminal too? Sierra wondered.
No, from their point of view, we just up and shot a guy in an alley, and he shot back in self-defense.
One of the men on the sidewalk began charging at Mello, but he grasped the wrist of Sierra's good arm and ran across the street, weaving through so many people.
"This is why Lord Kira is here to save us!" a lady wailed as she dodged the two racing away from the scene for their lives. For once, it was Sierra who was trying to keep up with Mello, not the other way around. Mello cut into multiple alleys, hoping to lose the crowd. When all seemed still, they slowed, Sierra out of breath.
"Well," Sierra gasped, "this sucks."
Sam went directly to the crime scene upon reaching France. The murder was in Lyon, where L told her he first used the alias Danuve. The victim this time was in the Place des Terreaux, a square in the center of the city. Sam and Roger headed there immediately after landing, and L went directly to the hotel room they would be staying in. There were dozens of reporters trying to get a look at the crime scene, but Roger got through easily once he was recognized, Sam trailing along behind him. Of course, this also fed the reporters enthusiasm; I mean, it was Watari, which meant that L must be here! Is this that important a murder? Of course, of course, tell me about it!
…Yeah.
Either way, as Sam and Roger made their way through, Sam saw a young girl out of the corner of her eye, trying to get through the mass of reporters. She looked to be only seven years old. What's a child doing trying to get to a murder scene? Sam wondered. Is it a family member that was killed? She should deserve to know what's going on….
Sam made her way over to the little girl. "Hey," Sam greeted, crouching down to meet her height. "What are you doing here?"
The girl looked at her with big eyes. "I need to see," she said. "I need to see the body. I'm a part of the detective agency here, you see, and I need to see." She paused. "Well, I'm not exactly part of it; I'm a detective's daughter, but..."
Sam smiled at her. She normally didn't like kids, but this girl reminded her of Anna, though they didn't look much alike. This girl had medium-length, thick, silky hair that was layered nicely. Sam could only just tell that the hair was a dark brown in the midday sunlight; otherwise, she may have mistaken it for black. Sam almost considered petting the little girl's hair, but she is not like me, so she dismissed the feeling. The girl's eyes were a deep brown, that seemed to look into Sam's soul. It vaguely creeped Sam out, but she ignored it. "Well," said Sam, "why don't I get you there? It might be a little bloody, though…."
"That's alright," the girl said seriously.
"So, how old are you?" Sam asked her as she pulled her along through the crowd.
"Guess," she said expressionlessly, then smiled sweetly. "Some people think I'm older because of how smoothly I speak combined with my unusual intellect, while others go for the fact I have such a small frame."
"Um…." Sam frowned, not quite sure herself which way to go. She decided to go down. "I'd say… seven?"
"I'm nine," she said.
"Oh, well… are you really smart?" she asked as they passed the crime scene tape. "You seem like it. Are you one of those child prodigies?"
She grinned. "Not at all." The girl looked to the fountain before them, her smile replaced with a solemn expression.
Sam, too, looked to the fountain; a beautiful, Bartholdi fountain blanketed with snow. However… the snow was stained a crimson red, as beside the stone woman on the fountain was a little boy, no more than five years old. "Oh my god…," Sam whispered.
The poor child was positioned to be leaning on the statue, as though he were leaning on his mother for comfort. His clothes were barely stained, like they had been replaced like that of Zoe Perdue's clothing. His eyes were open, gazing at nothing, his eyes dull and without life or spirit. It looked as if he were merely dreaming of a better life; a better world. It was almost as though he, too, were a colorful statue perched atop the four horses along with the stone woman.
Sam swallowed hard, then took a few pictures. His skin was turning blue from the cold. Anything else I need to do, L? Sam thought.
No, pictures alone are enough.
"I'm done, Watari," said Sam, leaving the scene. "Bye!" she called to the little girl.
The girl flashed a smile. "Tick tock," she said. "Tick tock."
Tick tock…? There was something unsettling about that smile.
"Tick tock."
But Roger was pulling Sam along through the reporters by then, and soon the girl was out of sight.
"We can't stay in one place for very long now," said Mello, tying a bandage to Sierra's injured shoulder. She winced. "The cops will be on us in no time; my hood fell, there were witnesses. Likely, I'll be wanted, what with the strictness of society on criminals now…."
Sierra pulled her sleeve back down, still gazing at her shoulder.
"You know, you're lucky that bullet didn't damage the muscle."
"Yeah," Sierra agreed, then slid off the table she was sitting on. "How will Matt find us now, though?"
Mello shrugged. "If we need to see him, we can arrange a meeting place. Mostly, we won't need to see him anyway. It's the information that I want to get from him."
"Did he say that he'd do it? Get involved with the case, I mean?"
"Yeah," Mello responded, throwing his chocolate wrapper in an old wastebasket they had found in the abandoned home they now housed in temporarily.
"Mello… I don't mean to be mean or anything, but… I want to go back to my house, with my aunt and my sister. Sam was right, I belong there…. If it came down to it, I don't think I could shoot a person anyway. Can't I go back?"
Mello frowned. "…No."
"But it's not really fair that I just have to get dragged along behind you, putting me in danger as well as yourself. I mean, I don't want to sound selfish, but I don't really want to die…. But… I don't want you to die either. I don't want anyone to die. I just want this Kira thing to be over with so everyone can be safe! I don't really care if I'm hurt or killed, but if my sister gets hurt, or Natalie gets hurt, or any of my friends gets hurt… well… I can't let that happen! While I'm here, what can I—?"
Mello abruptly cut her off, grasping her shoulders and pulling her close as he drove his lips roughly onto her own. They only stayed like that for a brief moment before he pulled away, the expression on his face suggesting he, too, had no idea what just happened, or why it did. Holy crap, Sierra thought blankly. What just happened? She didn't need to be able to read Mello's thoughts to figure out he was probably thinking something along the same lines.
He released her shoulders and turned away with a cough. "I, eh, I can't let Near or Kira figure out where I am," he said awkwardly. "You know that. You can… go back once I don't need that shield anymore."
Sierra blinked, wide-eyed. "…Okay…," she responded weakly.
...Well then.
Apparently even the great, tough Mello can be awkward.
So, Mello's pairing has begun officially. (Because kissing apparently makes things official in this story.) I've gotta say I'm not gonna be very confident about any fluff scenes, so... what'd you think?
Also... a li'l bit of L's past there~
Fun Fact: The Place des Terreaux is an actual place in Lyon, and it does have a Bartholdi fountain in its center. I did lotsa research for this story~
Review? For creepy children who can peer into your soul? o-o
