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, as referred to by the trademark abbreviation.
Some of you have commented on the lack of romance between L and Erin. I guess this story's kind of dry in that respect compared to other works. I am hoping to start making up for that. I dunno how, but I will. Need to balance it with the happenings of the case.
Hey, Raikota! Thanks for the birthday shout-out! Erin appreciates it!
21. Confusion
"It's possible that Higuchi committed suicide," muttered Mr. Yagami gravely. "Having had the power to kill other people, it wouldn't be strange if he wanted to kill himself in order to avoid giving a confession."
"B-but you kill by writing names down in the notebook," said Matsuda. "So, in order to kill yourself, wouldn't you have to put down your own name? If he could die by his own will, isn't it strange that he'd tried to shoot himself when we cornered him?"
"Not really. Death by shooting himself would've been far less painful than death by a heart attack."
How was I listening in on all of this if L had sent me to my room? Simple: Mogi had escorted me up to my room and all, but he couldn't stay, not when everyone on the team needed to be present for the examination of the notebook. As soon as I was sure he was gone, I'd snuck back downstairs, hoping to try to make peace with L for what I'd done with his tea earlier. I couldn't say I liked the idea of his hating me forever over something like that.
So, there I was, crouched right outside the door, listening in on yet another juicy tidbit of the Kira case. Well, no, I wouldn't use the word "juicy." In fact, I felt like throwing up, just from listening. I honestly started to wish I hadn't come down. I realize that I could've just split at any time; that probably would've been the smartest thing I'd done all night. But I didn't. Damn me and my journalistic instincts.
"Was it coincidence?" Mr. Yagami wondered aloud. "A suicide? Another Kira…or the shinigami? Well, which was it, shinigami?"
"It's Rem," hissed Rem, "and I did not kill Higuchi. Nor do I know why he died."
Wait. So…that was it? Ding-dong, Higuchi was…dead?
Well, I can't say that he hadn't deserved whatever had happened to him, which apparently had been a classic heart attack, assailant unknown. But at the same time…I don't know. I'd always thought that when the bad guy died, I should do a victory dance, even if it hadn't been my battle. I'd have thought I'd be clicking my heels upon finding out that Higuchi had suffered the same fate he had put other people through.
But now that it'd happened, I sure didn't feel like clicking my heels, or even cracking a smirk. Instead, I reached up to wipe my eyes dry on my sleeve, too scared to breathe for fear of it chugging out in more sobbing. I felt kind of…sorry for the poor bastard, to be honest. I wasn't sure whether or not I was supposed to feel that way, but I did. Especially when I'd heard the part where he'd tried to blow his brains out; that killed me. Thinking about how desperate he must've looked underneath the helicopter's spotlight, back pressed to the wall, finally realizing how screwed he truly was even with a deadly notebook…
Besides that, his death wouldn't bring back any of the lives he had taken. In a way, the whole thing felt pointless, an utter tragedy.
If only I'd known how much more tragic things were about to get…
Aizawa started to sound as though he were reading directly from the dumb notebook. "There are rules written inside the cover," he murmured. "'How to Use It'...it says that the human whose name is written in this notebook shall die."
For every rule he went over, my heart skipped a beat. By the time he was finished, I found it a blue-eyed miracle I hadn't flat-out keeled over.
"This note will not take effect unless the writer has the person's face in their mind while writing his or her name. Therefore, people sharing the same name will not be affected.
"If the cause of death is written within forty seconds of writing the person's name, it will happen. If the cause of death is not specified, the person will simply die of a heart attack.
"After writing the cause of death, details of the death should be written within the next six minutes and forty seconds."
Okay, seriously, who wrote this slop? I kept asking myself that, the more I heard, even though I knew I would never get an answer to that. Who wrote this PS, some teacup-collecting shut-in? What the hell had he been smoking? Whatever he'd been toasted on, they ought to have had a ban on it. I was all for open-mindedness, but come on people, there's got to be a limit!
My fist clenched against the doorway until it turned almost as white as Rem. "Killer Notebooks and Shinigami: EXPOSED!" Aside from wigged out of my mind—provided I still had one—for some reason, that almost got me fighting mad. Something just didn't sound fair about having the murder weapon of the story of the century turn out to be something that no sane person would ever imagine. Or even have a prayer at defending themselves against! I mean, with a little luck and effort, a person could probably survive a shooting, or a stabbing, or poison, or even an explosion. But this notebook took just about all chances of survival away from its victims.
How could someone stand to do that? Take away lives that were powerless to resist, never mind whether they even deserved it? On such a massive scale…
As a journalist, I would normally discourage the abuse of stationary and other writing utensils. But I swear to God, my very first thought as soon as I'd heard this much on the notebook was, Burn it! Burn the motherfucker and let's be done with it! Had I not known better, I would've screamed it right from my side of the door.
"The names of criminals written here correspond to the TV broadcast order," said Aizawa. "All the names of people whose deaths would have benefited Yotsuba are in here, too. The content for the 'rules of killing' from those meetings and materials also match up. But I can't find anything related to the deaths that occurred before Higuchi started killing..."
Something told me that maybe, maybe, Rem hadn't had as much control over that madman Higuchi as I'd initially thought. For one, the rules made it sound as though any old Joe could use the notebook, with or without a shinigami's influence. The issue of killing criminals aside, what kind of shinigami would force a guy to kill people for the benefit of that guy's company? The shinigami would have nothing to gain from it, would it? Unless it, like, got power from it or something. But couldn't the shinigami do the deed itself, then, if that were the case?
But if Rem hadn't influenced Higuchi's decisions to kill, what the hell was she around for? Was she a motivational coach for him, or something?
"The back cover has more instructions on how to use it," Aizawa continued. "There are two more rules…"
That alone had me bracing myself for a heart attack.
"One of them is, if you make this note unusable by tearing it up or burning it, all the humans who have touched the note until then will die."
As though the Fates had overheard me and decided to flip me the bird.
It sounded like I wasn't the only one whose eyeballs had popped out of their sockets. "What?" cried Matsuda. "Is that really true, Aizawa?"
"Yeah, that's what it says."
"N-no way! That sucks! Why didn't you tell me that before I touched it?"
"How was I supposed to know?" Aizawa snapped. "I didn't exactly go through it before giving it to you, idiot!" Boy, I found something kind of nostalgic about those two bickering like that, in spite of everything. Back in the good old days, Aizawa used to talk to Matsuda like that virtually all of the time. I hadn't liked it, of course, but listening to them now, I felt a weird, warm sense of completion, the kind you might feel when all your good buddies have gathered at your place to hang out, catch up, some.
The way Aizawa was acting, you might have never fathomed how relieved he actually was that everyone was as they were when he'd left. Alive. According to Matsuda, "the reunion was really awkward." He wouldn't say much more about it; the way Aizawa was looking at him might've had something to with that. Male pride and all.
But I had no time to dwell on the sentimental. Burning the notebook had just been thrown out into the cold.
"Oh man!" moaned Matsuda. "Maybe I shouldn't have let my curiosity about seeing a shinigami get the better of me." My thoughts, exactly, my friend. After all, I'd touched it too, out of my own insatiable curiosity. And got a paper cut while I was at it.
"Maybe," said Mr. Yagami, "but then you would be the only one in the investigation who wouldn't know what we were dealing with. Is that what you want?" Mr. Yagami used to chide Matsuda a lot, too. Some things never change.
"Uhhh…no, of course not! I wanna be on the same page as everyone else on the task force, Chief!"
"There goes getting rid of this thing, then. For the time being, we'll just have to lock it up here. We're the only ones who know this thing exists, and with all this security, it should be safe."
With that out of the way, Aizawa weathered out the shocker…with an even bigger shocker. The godfather of all shockers, in fact. "And then…there's this last rule. According to these instructions in the back of the notebook, if the person using the note fails to consecutively write names of people to be killed with thirteen days of each other, then the user will die."
…
Within thirteen days of each other, huh?
…
Hold on. If that was the rule, then wouldn't that mean—?
"Wait a second! If that's true, then that means Light and Misa-Misa are completely cleared, right?" cheered Matsuda.
The group shared a thoughtful grunt. "Yeah," said Aizawa. "Now that you mention it, that's right. Light and Misa were detained for more than fifty days and are still under surveillance."
And still manage to keep their sanity intact…
"If either of them had been Kira, there's no way they would still be alive, by now." Just by the way the man's voice lifted, how all their voices lifted, I could tell that the burden that'd been weighing them down for the longest time had finally been lifted. Even I couldn't help but feel faint in the head with relief; I had to prop myself up against the door by the shoulder just to steady myself! Hot damn!
"Wow! That's great news, isn't it, Chief?"
"Yeah," sighed Mr. Yagami, who was without a doubt the most relieved of all of us. "Thank God." The way he said that, it was like he'd been holding his breath for all this time, probably since this whole thing started, and could finally let go of it.
But guess who was the only one in the room not saying, "Phew!"?
"Rem, was it?" asked L (who else?), who hadn't said much of anything since the gang had returned to headquarters. "That's your name, isn't it: the white thing, over there?" "White thing," he says! That killed me. In normal society where we came from, he could get arrested for saying something like that! Or at least, get sued. Guy might've been a mega-mad-genius, but when it came to social graces…do I have to say it?
Matsuda choked, "R-Ryuzaki, isn't it kinda rude to go around calling someone a 'white thing?'" I guess he was afraid Rem would start sucking out all their marrow or something. Frankly, so was I, in a way. She didn't, though; didn't sound like it, at least. For a monster that used to hang out with a dirty monkey like Higuchi, she was actually pretty cool-headed. I credited her for that much.
"What do you want?"
"There's more than one notebook in the human world, isn't there?"
Huh? Why would L go ask a question like that? Well, I knew why he'd keep asking questions. Even if the evidence so emphatically stated otherwise, he never dropped his suspicions. Not completely. What struck me as curious was why he was suddenly asking about other notebooks, in particular.
There was a pause before Rem fired an answer. "Who knows? There may be, or there may not be," she replied, pretty passive for a monster. "I am only required to mind this one."
"If there are other notebooks, either here or in your world, would they all have the same rules as this one?"
Rem's reply to that one was way more immediate: "Yes, they are all the same. There are many notebooks in the Shinigami Realm, but they all have the same rules, even the rules for when humans obtain them."
Whoa-ho-ho, hold up! Shinigami lived in their own dimension? There were more creatures like Rem? More notebooks? And people could pick one up at any time with the effortlessness of checking out a library book? That's what I was inferring, at any rate.
I had to fight the urge to drop dead, right then and there. How the hell were we going to tell the world that Kira had killed thousands of people with a dumb notebook?
"Ryuzaki," said Aizawa, "Miss Amane and Light have both been cleared of suspicion. They shouldn't be under surveillance, any longer."
"That's right! It's crystal-clear!" exclaimed Matsuda.
I was expecting L to come up with some kind of sharp, crackpot rebuttal, like he always did. But I probably should've known better by that point: every time I expected him to do something, he usually did the opposite.
Nevertheless, I kind of jolted when L muttered, "I suppose you're right."
...
"I understand. Please accept my apologies for all of the trouble." For some reason, I didn't like that. I didn't like him sounding all…agreeable, all of a sudden. It should've been a more pleasant surprise to hear him act like a level-headed human being for once, but it wasn't. I don't know if that was because I'd gotten so used to him being all disagreeable and whatnot, that hearing him not put up a fight was a shocker.
Whatever the reason, it chafed me. It just wasn't too L-ish of him, if I'm allowed to call it that. So much, that a part of me held out for the moment when L would pull off a "Psyche!" Or at least, his version of "Psyche!"
"Thank goodness," breathed Mr. Yagami.
"Yeah," said Light, "but we still can't say that we've solved the case until we've figured out everything. Before I was taken in, someone else other than Higuchi was doing the killings. And if Kira and the Second Kira existed simultaneously, as Ryuzaki said, then that means there is more than one notebook out there. Kira, the Second Kira, whoever they were, whether there are more notebooks…we need to make that all clear. So, would it be all right if I kept investigating with you, without the handcuffs on?"
Even Light thought there were two notebooks? Well, now that he'd pointed out the existence of not one, but two Kiras, the thought struck me like seven thousand volts. In a way, I kind of wished I hadn't remembered that: the existence of two Kiras. Two Kiras, two notebooks…two too many concerning either. Jesus Christ.
The chain linking the boys together, the physical manifestation of their bond as a dysfunctional-yet-dynamic detective duo, rattled softly, as if in protest.
Okay, L, this is the part where you go "PSYCHE!" on everyone, right?
"Yes."
He meant "yes" to Light's request to throw away the handcuffs. "So we shall part with Amane, then? We will help her in moving out as needed, and discontinue surveillance on her. As such, Mogi will no longer be her manager."
"Of course, Ryuzaki. I think we owe her that much, at least."
I noticed two things about the way he'd said that. First, he'd made absolutely no mention of what they would do with me. I wasn't part of the team either, so I would've figured that I would have the privilege to leave, as well. But nothing. Zilch. Nada. It was like I plain didn't exist.
But what bugged me more was that second, he still didn't say "Psyche!" Look, I'm not saying that I liked the spats those two could have; I didn't. But they'd been working that way for so long, I couldn't help but find it a little disturbing how they weren't arguing over what would happen to Light and Misa and everything. It was like, now whatever Light had in mind, L would just…take it.
And if that one rule was true...whoever the two Kiras were, were probably dead, now. I didn't like that idea, but it sounded way too likely. What would be the point in continuing this to look for more dead people?
He wound up changing the subject to something slightly more esoteric. It seemed esoteric to me, anyway. "Rem, in the video that the Second Kira sent to Sakura TV, there was a mentioning about how Kira 'doesn't have the Eyes.' Tell me: do these 'Eyes' allow you to see a person's name just by looking at them?"
No, scratch that. Very esoteric, to the umpteenth power. But then, what hadn't I heard all night that didn't have me blowing a fuse?
"Am I correct in assuming this? Or are you unable to tell humans about that?"
"I have to agree with you, Ryuzaki," said Light; again with the agreement? "These 'Eyes' must let you know someone's name by seeing their face after making a deal with a shinigami. You can easily deduce that from the Second Kira's statements, the incident with that traffic officer, and the fact that Higuchi headed for the Sakura TV station."
Hmph! Easy-peasy for you guys, maybe…
"A sharp observation," said Rem. "I am not permitted to tell anyone other than the owner of the notebook about the Deal, but if you've managed to figure out that much, I won't deny it."
"And…what is this 'Deal?'"
"Concerning that much, I cannot tell anyone but the notebook's owner."
Well, then…since Higuchi was now taking a dirt-nap, who was the current owner of the notebook? Did the notebook even have an owner? Was it a stray?
L pushed it one more time: "What about someone who used to use the notebook, but lost their memories regarding it?"
"Who knows? That never happens to a shinigami, and I've never seen that happen with a human, so I wouldn't know." Rem sure was getting kind of evasive, the more she was interrogated.
I sort of made that my cue to scram before anybody came out to catch me. I know I'd meant to apologize to L for what I'd done earlier with the tea, but by the end of that conversation, that was the last thing on my mind, too thick and satiated with everything else I'd soaked up to want to stick around. I needed an aspirin, to be honest.
…
What is going on…?
…
As though things couldn't get any stranger, they started to act differently after that. By "they" of course, I mean our golden boys, Light and L. And Misa too I guess, even if she always was kind of weird to begin with. Well all right, when you had a shinigami running around your place and a killer notebook in your possession I guess anyone's a little inclined to act awkward. And I think just about everyone on the team had a natural tendency towards strangeness.
I still didn't like it though. It just seemed somehow as though they'd become…strangers, no matter how long I'd been living with them.
He could've just been sulking about how his suspicions about Light and Misa had been debunked—again—but ever since that night, L became distant—more so than usual—and passive. Not passive-aggressive, but passive-passive. And unlike the first time he'd fallen into a slump, Light made no effort to cheer him up, none that I'd seen, at least. With the handcuffs gone, Light was free to go where he pleased. But he took no advantage of that for some reason. Even when Misa swung by for a visit, he'd only chat with her for a couple of minutes outside. He liked to hover over L's shoulder like they were still chained together, yet at the same time was about as far away as L was.
I thought maybe he was just mad at him on account of everything he'd put him and his old man up to and wanted to see to it that L saw this case to the end, like he'd said he would. Nevertheless...
Instead of a bickering married couple, their relationship seemed to have dissolved into that of a couple who no longer had feelings for each other, not even hostile, that made a bystander like me wonder why the hell they were still even together. That depresses me to say the least, to see any pair like that, married or otherwise, never mind Light and L.
While L just turned all passive, Light...he turned into an icicle or something. Take the morning Misa went home for instance, two days after Higuchi's arrest and death. It took us two days to get her all moved out with our combined hands and backs. L didn't really move that much stuff. He mostly stood aside and watched us do the work. I'd managed to get him to at least take a box of Misa's dolls downstairs, but he didn't come back up again after that. And no one was in the mood for chasing that chump around. When we were done all he would say about that was, "I did the least that was asked of me."
Those two lovebirds were out in the lobby exchanging the kind of heartfelt good-byes you'd mostly find in romance flicks with an orchestra playing in the background. Well, Misa was, anyway. Light kind of just stood there holding her in his arms.
They seemed to be getting intimate, but I hadn't paid much attention to that when I came dashing out to meet them, long after the rest of the guys (except L, somewhat unsurprisingly) had seen Misa off and bid her happy trails, especially Matsuda. Boy, would he miss her. Aizawa had to drag the poor guy wailing by the lapels of his suit just to get him back inside.
"WAAAAAIT!"
The two of them put a pause on their love-fest to look back at me. Neither of them looked too happy about the interruption.
As soon as I slammed the brakes, I doubled over to support myself on my knee while I took a second to catch my breath. "Sorry for butting in," I panted. "But I—I couldn't let you go yet without saying good-bye, Misa. It's been, uh—it's been pretty cool, being friends with you and all. I can't tell you how happy I am for you two now that your names have been cleared—"
"You have. I think you've told us several times, already," said Light. "You even picked up Misa off of her couch and spun her around three times."
Misa smiled at me. It could've been just me, but her smile seemed a little forced. She always was jealous of whatever quality time she could have with Light. "Misa might still be dizzy from that, too," she joked. "Aw, it's been nice knowing you too, Elin! I'll miss you so much!" she cheered with a wave of her dainty fingers.
I just waved a hand right back. "Whoa, hey, wait! I'm not done!" Even though we'd had our differences and rough patches, Misa and I had managed to coexist under the same roof as girlfriends, probably better than Light and L had been coexisting. I didn't feel like rushing a good-bye for a friend whom I wasn't sure I'd get to see again for a while. Since Rem and the notebook had appeared, things had started to get kind of haphazard…
"I also wanna say that I hope you break a leg on your trip to superstardom. And that you and Light someday have that house and picket fence and twelve kids like you've been hoping for." I never was that good with good-byes, honestly. It's tough for a wiener like me to say how they feel without making it come out sappy or stilted. In the movies, the characters seem to crack a joke a minute, or at least always have something witty to say. It's hardly that way in real life, unfortunately.
Light made a mild face, while Misa's smile broadened into a dazzling grin. "Thank you Elin, you can bet Misa and Light will have it all! Buh-bye now!"
"Whoa, hang on, will ya? What's the rush? You that antsy to start making out or what?"
Pause.
I gulped. "Uh, sorry. I didn't mean it like...isn't that what couples usually—well, um, at any rate, I got something for you."
I didn't want to say good-bye without giving her some kind of memento, either, of all the time we'd weathered together, good or lousy. With that, I took my other hand from behind my back to hold out the present I'd rushed to put together for her: a small square picture frame, wrapped in the most colorful comic strip clippings I could find lying around. Cheesy and cheap maybe, but that was the most thoughtful gift I could come up with given my resources and everything.
"Ryuzaki wouldn't let me put any pictures in it," I explained, pushing my glasses up on my burning nose. Yep, in all of my rushing to complete Misa's gift, I'd had another accident with my contact lenses. But you know? That didn't really concern me this time, to tell the truth. Not half as much as catching up to her did. "I hope that's okay."
Misa beamed. "Oh no, it's all right! It leaves Misa room to put in any picture she likes. Thank you, Elin; you're so sweet!"
"I made one for you, too, Light. I made one for everybody." I'd made a stupid picture frame for just about everyone on the task force. I must've made out like a one-woman knick-knack factory. Anything to help ease the shock that came with the existence of shinigami and killer notebooks. Besides, if—when—there came the time I'd be heading home, I figured I should give everyone some kind of memento, even if they all had to get the same thing. "I can go back and get it."
"No, that's fine. I'm not going anywhere. You can give it to me later," said Light. He was starting to look at me funny, like all he wanted right now was for me to go back inside. Sort of like how L used to look at me whenever I did something stupid.
"Soooo, Misa will just take this, and…"
Misa grabbed the frame, but she couldn't take it out of my hand. She tugged and tugged, but no dice. "Hey! What gives?"
Light's features started to clench with impatience. "All right, Elin, quit fooling around. Give Misa the frame."
"Oh. Uh…heh-heheh. Yeah, about that…sorry, Misa," I tittered, cupping my free hand on the back of my clammy neck. "I just remembered: I—I sort of glued my hand to the frame while I was making it. That's what I get for hurrying, huh? Ha! I always did suck at arts 'n' crafts!" I sucked at a lot of things. That was the whole reason I'd been late in going downstairs to see Misa off, for Christ's sake.
Light decided to take it upon himself to intervene. He took my wrist in one hand, the frame in another, and with a brisk twist of both he managed to rip them apart.
"Yow!" I drew back to cradle my hand. "Hey easy, kid! I'm still using this hand, you know." I tried to sound all playful and everything, but in the back of my mind, I had to wonder: what was the poker up his ass, today? Since he and Misa had been cleared and everything, I thought he'd be doing a jig like the rest of us.
I wrote it off as stress. I'd be crabby too if I'd been unfairly called the prime suspect for months on end, and had the creepy lead detective stuck to me like gum in my hair and screwing up my school and social life. Besides, Light wasn't really the type to break out into a random jig of joy. He was kind of boring, in a way. Not really a guy I'd want as a boyfriend even if he was smart, good-looking and polite.
"Sorry. You needed to get it off somehow, didn't you?" said Light, handing my present over to Misa.
I looked him over kind of warily. "Yeah. I did." Then I turned back to Misa and stretched my arms out, ready to give her a hug. "Aw man! I'm 'onna miss you, Misa!" I meant that. Who knew how long I still had here and with Misa gone I would be the only girl left. Well, besides Rem and Wedy, I guess. But I didn't think shinigami cared about the things Misa and I would talk about and Wedy had her own thing going on. Plus I kind of annoyed her whenever we were together, whether I meant to or not.
She nodded but didn't really stretch her arms out in return. She mostly stretched one arm out as if preparing to give me a handshake. I dove in for the hug instead; boy, I could've snapped her in half if Light hadn't pried me off of her before I could.
"That's enough, Elin. You're a lot stronger than you think and she doesn't want to be crushed. If it makes you feel better, Misa will come back later," he said, guiding me by the shoulders to the entrance of the main room.
Now that I'm thinking about it, that all by itself should've been a red flag, how Light suddenly seemed to want badly to be alone with Misa and not just the other way around. I didn't see it that way, though. Light had been so uptight with the case, and now with most of the pressure off he was finally opening up to Misa as much as he should and maybe really wanted to.
I sort of crumbled a little with disappointment, but I let it go. Since their names had been cleared, maybe they'd have a shot at developing their relationship into something more serious? "Oh. Making plans for the future, I guess? That's cool. I mean, heh, who am I to butt in on a couple of lovebirds like you two? You guys have got a good thing going; don't ruin it by moving too fast."
I looked at Misa to see her waving at me. Her face seemed to glow upon my mentioning the word "future." "Bye, Elin! Misa will miss you! Thank you for the cute picture frame!"
God, if I'd known that that would be the last time we'd stand in the same space as friends…
…
Back in the monitor room, I resolved to passing out the rest to everyone else; I even had two for Aiber and Wedy, not once wondering if they would accept them. That's how crazy I'd gotten.
"Er…thank you," said Aizawa, Mogi and Mr. Yagami, staring at their gifts like they were tacky novelty coffee mugs. I didn't blame them. Watari, Aiber and Wedy were nowhere around, so I left theirs by the computers for them to pick up whenever.
"Aw, thank you, Elin!" Matsuda gushed, the most enthusiasm I'd seen out of anyone in the task force as of late. "How thoughtful! I'll treasure it always!"
I beamed at my fellow rookie before sliding into the couch where L was crouched in, stacking a bunch of marshmallows into a pyramid. The big and fluffy kind. "Well, you know, I figured that I should leave you guys something for when I hit the dusty trail. For all of the time we've weathered together, and so and so…and so. Ah, that reminds me!"
I sat down by L and placed his picture frame on the coffee table, by his marshmallow pyramid. "Bernini, let's you and me talk turkey! What d'ya say, huh?"
L was about to place the crowning marshmallow on top of his masterpiece, when he paused to eye the handmade picture frame like I'd planted a bomb on it or something. You would've thought that no one had ever given him a present before, not even on his birthday.
I guess when you're not too trustworthy yourself, you tend to get pretty distrustful of others' motives in the meantime.
Upon thinking about that, I swallowed the budding lump in my throat before it could get any bigger and assured him, "Don't worry! It's just a picture frame." Like he'd had no clue what I'd presented him. I sort of wondered for a second what he could possibly do with a picture frame since he had no pictures. None that I knew of, at least.
But I wound up answering that question myself: "You could probably put in a picture of your, uh, favorite cake or something to look at. While you're eating. So then you could…oh! Eat your cake and have it too!"
Ba-dum, ching!
I laughed like I'd just cracked a real rib-tickler. L wasn't laughing though. He never laughed. I couldn't remember ever seeing him smile, for Christ's sake.
Once I collected myself again I told him, "At any rate, it's yours. No charge! No strings attached! Though I still wanna talk turkey."
For the first time all day, he spoke up. "What is it that you wish to discuss?" He still kept his eyes trained on the frame, though, to scan it for bugs or bombs and the like.
I rubbed my knuckles on my shirt. "Oh you know, the same old issue from before. About my going home and all—"
"I'm afraid that's not possible, right now."
Now I was sitting way the hell up in my seat like a squirrel. "What? Are you taking me for a ride? What's wrong? Why cant'cha send me home? You sent Misa home and she was a suspect."
"I believe the conditions we laid out—"
"You mean that you laid out." I shouldn't have done that, interrupt him. But I was getting so hopped up all of a sudden, you wouldn't believe. What was he trying to pull here?
"…were that you would stay with us until Kira had been apprehended."
"B-but Higuchi's dead. Now don't get me wrong, I'm not happy that he died or anything, but shouldn't that mean—"
"Kyosuke Higuchi was only a proxy. We cannot call this case closed until we've tracked down the real Kira. And the Second Kira, as well. We may have one of the notebooks, but there is another out there, possibly more."
By the point I was digging my nails into my scalp. Something needed to be done about this new passive attitude of his; nothing was gonna get done if not. Since Light was preoccupied…
It looked like I would have to take a little initiative. Believe me, the very idea rattled me to the core. Just not quite enough to keep my yap buttoned. I was still a journalist, after all. Besides, you could pretty much do anything if you don't think about it that much. Even though that has its obvious risks…
"Well hey, I've got an idea: ask Rem if there are any more stupid notebooks lying around! She's a shinigami; she oughta know!" I said that like I hadn't known how he'd already tried that. I just wanted to see him push, like he'd done before. I even expected him to call me out on having eavesdropped on that conversation.
He didn't.
I squirmed around until I was on my knees, peering over the couch to check out Rem, who'd been looming in the exact spot and position she'd had all day. "Hey! Hey, Rem! Please enlighten us. Are there other notebooks floating around in the human world?" Imagine that: talking to a shinigami like I did. But like I said, if you rationalize or think about some things too much, you might as well be a vegetable.
Rem cocked her head. "As I've already told you, there may or may not be. Even if there were, I wouldn't know." The same answer as before.
I face-palmed. "Oh no, this isn't about the night you came in, is it? L-listen: I'm…uh…I'm really sorry I tried to, you know, scald you with hot tea. You just—you just freaked me out, is all. But we can still be friends, right?" I twiddled my fingers.
"I already told you: shinigami are impervious to all forms of physical assault. You couldn't hurt me no matter how much you'd like to."
"O…kay. Well, the reason I ask is 'cause one time I thought I saw a creature out on the town that looked kind of like you, at least from the back. 'Cept he had wings."
"Excuse me?" said Aizawa, peering over his shoulder and stopping his typing.
I must've turned as red as a beet and I felt myself shrink a little. Oh man, the guys were all staring at me now like I'd spouted a second head out of my butt. "Uh, well, I said I thought I saw a creature that looked kind of like Rem, like months ago..."
"And you bring this up now because?" Aizawa had that strain in his voice like he was trying to put a cap on it before he got too mad. Or maybe he was too tired and shaken from the other night's events to work up the effort to get mad.
"Hey, hey, hey! It's only been what, two days since we found out these things even existed? No offense, Rem," I blurted. "It's not like I could tell you what it was or where it came from; I mean Tokyo's probably got more people than Manhattan and I only got a glimpse of it and I never saw it again after that. If I'd have brought this up before this whole mess with Higuchi went down, you all woulda thought I was bonkers." I made the cuckoo sign to emphasize my point.
He snorted. "I'm not a certified psychiatrist, but since you've been here I can't say you've done much that could make me believe you were completely sane either." He might have been joking about that, or maybe he wasn't? That's the problem when you use sarcasm too much.
I paused to glance back at L. He'd gotten into looking over Rem as well but he kept quiet. For a second I massaged craters into my scalp as I tried to come up with another question that Rem could give a better answer to.
"I wouldn't know anything about other shinigami coming to the human world," she answered blankly.
There was something I'd been wondering for awhile. "A-awright, fine. So Rem, what about you? What were you doing following Higuchi around? Was it because he had your notebook and all?"
"Yes, you could assume that."
I got up from the couch to dash across the room and snatch up the notebook off of the desk. Once I climbed back into the couch, I waved it around over my head like a flag. "Did you follow him around because you wanted this back? Well Higuchi's dead, last I heard of him, so I guess that means you can take this back and go home to wherever the heck you came from. Sound good? Bon voyage!" Even with that dumb rule that said we couldn't burn it, I still sort of wanted the notebook gone, in any way possible.
Rem stared at me, her face as blank as her answers. "It's not that simple, I'm afraid."
I winced under the dull throb of an impending migraine. Jesus Christ, were all shinigami this ditzy?
Almost miraculously, that was about the time L picked up on the interrogating. "Why can't you take back the notebook?"
"I can only take it back if the owner willingly gives it up."
I proved Aizawa's point and started jumping on the couch cushions Cruise™-style until my glasses were practically falling off my face (while L somehow magically maintained his balance the whole time). "For the umpteenth time: Higuchi! Is! Dead! The notebook doesn't have an owner anymore!"
Deep breath.
"Doesn't it?"
Then from out of the blue L asked, "Rem, when Higuchi died, did the ownership transfer to the task force?"
"Perhaps."
"Who does it belong to now? If it belongs to anyone?" he followed up.
"I don't know," Rem replied. "And even if I did, I couldn't tell you."
I slapped the notebook on the table. "W-well, why the hell did you give Higuchi your notebook if you weren't gonna be able to get it back?"
"I didn't give it to him. I accidentally dropped my notebook, and he happened to pick it up. That's how he became the owner." Wow. Just, wow. Shinigami were not only dizzy as all hell, but they were butterfingers, too?
That terrified me, to be honest. I had to sit down in order to settle the gravel sifting around in my stomach, after thinking how easily an average Joe could come across something so dangerous. It made me want to puke, almost. Since the case had begun, anything could make me puke.
"Not trying to diss you or anything Rem, but I would've thought shinigami would be a little more careful than that. Don't you like, need it or something?"
"Not necessarily."
GAAAAH! Why did every goddamn answer out of her purple mouth have to be "I don't know" or "I can't tell you" or "Not necessarily?" Shinigami could not possibly be that clueless!
Could they?
Or was Rem answering like that on purpose because she didn't trust us?
Whatever her problem was, her resistance wouldn't do much to help L's attitude problem.
…
Oh, what was happening to everyone?
"Okay, fine! Ryuzaki, let's go get everybody lined up that was there when you caught Higuchi. Have 'em take turns trying to give the notebook back to Rem."
All of a sudden he got this kind of glazed look, as though mutely asking me, Since when do I take orders from you? You should know by now that it's the other way around. "What would be the point to that? If anything that would be counter-productive. This Death Note is a valuable piece of evidence and the shinigami's a potential witness. It'd be foolish to let either go, especially when the shinigami could easily drop the notebook again for someone else to pick up.
"Furthermore, I doubt that we could officially give it back its notebook that way. Not when it just admitted that it doesn't know who the owner even is. Also, no one is going to truly want to give it back due to the reason aforementioned."
Looking back on that, I wonder if I should have listened to him. Maybe in that freaky Ripley's "Believe It or Not!"™ way of his, he already knew the truth. No way he was going to let some shmuck like me get in the way of his goal.
But I didn't consider that. I thought he was just being a mopey mule all over again like before.
What the hell do you suggest we do then, Sherlock? At least I'm trying to do something. But as long as you keep blocking me what good am I really doing?
"Elin, where are you going?" L asked me as I fumbled off of the couch, lifting my glasses to massage the bridge of my nose.
"You have to excuse me," I mumbled, clutching my head like it were a football. "I need to go bang some holes in the wall. With my head."
"You really should consider breaking that habit of yours. I don't think it'll help to ease your discomfort; if anything, it'll exacerbate it."
"You've got your junk food, and I've got my own thing. Live and let live, Ryuzaki." Which was, if anything, more of the polite way of saying, "Screw you, Ryuzaki."
Compared to everything else going on, head-butting the wall would've been like morphine.