Dennis Nedry: Hmm...somehow I don't see L as hating strawberries, regardless of what happened. I think he'll stay a strawberry nut forever. Like you say, anything else wouldn't really be L XD
PianoCatRulez: Thanks XD Yeah, completely evil bad guys are fun to write, but I wanted to give Sato one or two good points ;)
JUNE 21
L was seriously annoyed.
He wasn't annoyed at Soichiro, nor at Aizawa or Matsuda's attempts yesterday to keep him confined (they were only following orders and outwitting them had been entertaining enough to relieve his boredom for a few microseconds). He wasn't even annoyed at Sachiko, not anymore.
He was annoyed because a day spent sleeping in a chair and another night in an awkward position in bed in his new apartment had both taken their toll, and his back was now so painful that it was difficult to move. He wasn't entirely sure how he'd got to his new apartment, since the last really clear memory he had was of getting into Soichiro's car. He supposed the man must have...what? Carried him?
No, he'd never do that. It's far more likely he helped you in here, only you were too groggy to remember.
Okay, but why did he pick this apartment to dump me in?
Not that he minded exactly – it was only a couple of doors down from the one he'd trashed and so he didn't feel like he'd moved at all – but still...something about it bothered him.
Right. Something like the little fact that you're too ashamed to look Sachiko and Sayu in the face after your little outburst.
I don't want people to be afraid of me. What's wrong with that?
So who says they're afraid of you?
L was silent. Had he been in the mood to argue with his other mind, he might have remarked that if someone suddenly exploded at you and then proceeded to destroy their own apartment, you would at least be a little apprehensive the next time you met them.
But it would be nice if they poked their head round the door now that my back's hurting. They might even bring food. He doubted this, but it was a nice little dream.
How am I supposed to work on the case if I'm in too much pain to stand?
You're just going to have to do what you did when you were with Watari. Work through it.
Watari had never tried to force L into doing anything that would hurt him, but if he thought the young man was hurt, he'd usually insist L take some kind of painkiller which always ended up making the detective groggy.
There was a loud knock on the door and L jumped, then cursed as a fresh twinge of pain stabbed at his back.
"It's open!" Now that he stopped to think, he should probably do something about that at some point, but he'd sort of been hoping Soichiro would stop by and he didn't want the deputy director to be locked out when he did.
The door clicked open and Aizawa strode in, an envelope in one hand.
"Aizawa?" L stared at the man, astonished. "What the hell are you doing here?"
"I came to bring you that key money, Ryuzaki." Aizawa held up the envelope, then set it down on the side. "Or are you going by Ikeda again now?"
The room spun crazily around L and he seized the counter, gripping it so tightly the ends of his fingers went numb.
Did he...no. No, Yagami-san wouldn't have betrayed me. He knew everything I told him yesterday was to be kept between the two of us.
Oh really? And exactly how would he know that? It's not like you mentioned it at any point.
No, but he said. He said he wouldn't gossip about anything I told him. His exact words.
But Aizawa's his work colleague. Telling him isn't quite the same as whispering it to the neighbors over the garden fence.
"Yagami..." It was a bare whisper and L glanced up at Aizawa. The thought of appealing to him of all people for some kind of compassion was laughable, but he couldn't stop himself. "I trusted him. Yesterday, I..."
Something in Aizawa's face softened a little. "Yagami didn't tell me who you were. Well, no, he did, but that was long before you told him. He hasn't really spoken to me about you at all."
"Why should I believe you?" It was half a snarl.
"Because if I wanted to hurt you, making you think that Yagami had betrayed you would be by far the best way to do it. Wouldn't you agree? Ikeda?"
"Prove it. And please don't call me that, Aizawa."
Aizawa snorted. "Prove it yourself, Ryuzaki. You must be capable of hacking into the NPA archives. Run a search for Shogo Ikeda and see what comes back. You never know. Might learn something."
He turned and walked out, shutting the door a little harder than necessary, or at least, a little harder than L thought Soichiro would have done.
L stared at the space where Aizawa had been standing, mind reeling.
Now what?
Now? Now you go and find Yagami-san, you idiot!
The young man glanced at his watch. Ten to eight. He'd have to hurry if he wanted to get Soichiro before the deputy director left for work.
He stumbled toward the front door, limping a little and cursing the pain in his lower back. It usually hurt him to some extent, but it wasn't often this bad.
Soichiro was rounding the far corner as L emerged into the corridor and the young man took a deep breath.
"Yagami-san! Wait!"
Soichiro sighed, turning around. "Ryuzaki, no! I'm not going to bring you into—"
"Did you tell Aizawa who I am?" L interrupted.
The deputy director looked startled but answered, "Yes, at the same time I found out for myself. To be honest, I was so stunned that I'd probably have told the first person I saw."
"I don't understand. You told me you already knew my name but you never told me how."
Soichiro paused, then said in a softer voice, "What did Aizawa tell you?"
"He told me...he said I should hack into the NPA archives and search for my case, but there was no case! My disappearance was never reported to anyone."
The older man stared at him for a long, long time. At last he answered, "With respect, Ryuzaki, even though Aizawa wasn't in the NPA when you vanished, I would think that someone who worked for the police would be a better judge of that than an eight year old boy who had just been whisked away to another country."
L looked down, his mind working frantically.
In the end, it all comes down to what you believe. For things to have happened the way you're thinking, Yagami would have to be a traitor and Aizawa spiteful. You know neither of those things are true, therefore your theory can't be true either.
Yeah, but I thought—
Furthermore, let me just point out that every single time you've jumped to a conclusion about Yagami's actions and motivations, you've been one hundred percent wrong! Hadn't you better try and get a little more information this time?
L swallowed. "I thought...after yesterday, on the roof..."
Soichiro gave him a quizzical look. "Ryuzaki, the roof was two days ago. You slept through yesterday."
L stared at him, the world suddenly swaying. "I did what to yesterday?"
"Slept through it," Soichiro repeated. "I checked on you before I went to work and after I got back, but you were just curled up on the couch and I didn't like to wake you."
"Why not? Yagami-san, that's an entire twenty four hours I just wasted! I could have found something out! I could have...I could have done something! What's the matter with you?"
"Ryuzaki!"
L shut his mouth and stared at the deputy director, eyes wide. Soichiro had never snapped at him like that before.
Congratulations, you finally pushed him too far.
That wasn't my fault! In case you haven't noticed, he always brushes me off when I'm trying to antagonize him and gets angry with me when I'm not!
Well, you were bound to succeed sooner or later, his other mind mused. You've been trying hard enough. I don't know how he's managed to remain so patient all this time.
L looked down at his feet, rubbing one of them on the back of his jeans and flexing his toes.
"I'm sorry, Yagami-san," he mumbled. "I just want to help."
"Overworking yourself so soon after you suffered a major burnout and when you're ill is not helping, Ryuzaki. In fact, I'd even say it was distracting, since I'd spend so much time worrying about you that I wouldn't be able to concentrate on the case. Do you understand what I'm saying? Never mind why I'm saying it – I know you don't understand that – but from a selfish point of view, does this make any sense to you at all?"
L was silent for a long time, thinking this over. On the one hand, the answer was no – why would Soichiro put someone else's need for sleep over another person's need for life – but he wasn't entirely certain what the deputy director would do if he was honest.
And if you lie and he finds out, what are you going to say to him then? You know he hates liars. At least if you tell him the truth, there's a chance he might respect you for being honest with him.
See, this is why I always try and avoid social situations! They're verbal minefields!
He drew in a deep breath, then sighed and looked at Soichiro.
"No," he answered very quietly. "I'm sorry. I know it's very important to you that I do understand this, but I just don't. You're a policeman, Yagami-san. It makes no sense to me whatsoever that you would risk sacrificing the life of one of those civilians you're supposed to protect just so I can have a nap. I mean, suppose you went into work and Matsuda was asleep at his desk. Would you let him sleep on?"
Soichiro paused, then shook his head. "No, I wouldn't. But that's different. Matsuda's there to work, and he's not on the verge of nervous exhaustion. You just implied that I would go out of my way to make you suffer so you could wrap this case up nice and neatly."
L stared at him, not sure how far he could push Soichiro, or even how far he wanted to push him.
"Don't do this to me, Yagami-san," he said at last, his voice so quiet he could barely hear it himself. "Please don't do this to me."
"Don't do what?"
At least he didn't blow up. L rested an arm against the wall, tracing his name over and over again as he thought about the answer. Finally he said, "You know. The only familiar thing I have is being a detective. You can't—no, that's not right." Lifting his head, he stared at Soichiro. "I won't let you take it away from me."
Soichiro groaned. "Ryuzaki, for goodness' sake! I'm not trying to take anything away from you! I'm not trying to stop you being a detective; I'm just trying to make sure you remember to eat and sleep while you're doing it, otherwise the next time you'll probably end up out for an entire week!"
L was silent. His actual record on that score was four days, Watari having had some business in London to attend to and dumped him at Wammy's House for a week with a dozen or so case files to be going on with. L had meant to investigate, but he'd been exhausted from all the work he'd been doing and from the flight to England and so he'd just barricaded the door of one of the staff bedrooms, curled up on the bed and gone straight to sleep.
"You seem to think life is very simple, Yagami-san."
"Most of the time it is. It's people that are complicated."
L had to smile a little at that. "Um. About my going into the NPA—"
"Ryuzaki..."
"—yesterday," L finished with a wounded air. "I mean, the day before yesterday."
Soichiro folded his arms. "Go on."
"I was just wondering, where's my bike?"
"Still in the NPA parking lot. It's quite safe there. No," Soichiro added as L opened his mouth, "you may not go and get it until tomorrow when you should be rested and alert enough to ride it. I don't want you becoming another statistic."
L wasn't much inclined to argue this point, as part of him knew that Soichiro was right. He was awake, but he wasn't particularly alert and he wasn't an experienced enough biker to risk tackling Tokyo traffic in his current condition.
"What about the case?" he asked instead. "Were there any breakthroughs while I was asleep? I'm awake now, Yagami-san, so you can tell me without triggering any adverse psychological reactions."
"Not yet. About the only development is that the mayor of Chiyoda wants representatives from the NPA at his daughter's wedding and a police guard at the reception in the evening, thanks to these murders." Soichiro pulled out his wallet and did a quick eye count of the money in there, then sighed. "Looks like I'll have to go to the bank. I think we've got some wedding envelopes somewhere."
L frowned. "Why are you bringing her a gift if you're only going as security?"
"I'm also going as a representative of the NPA." The deputy director replaced his wallet and turned to face L again. "I can't show up empty handed. And since those of us going to the reception are going to be undercover, we can't risk blowing that cover."
L leaned back and tried to think, a task made harder by the fact that he felt like someone had drained his brain away and replaced it with pond sludge.
"So you're all bringing gifts? You're all going to have to pay this idiot of a mayor for the privilege of protecting his daughter who won't even be in any danger?"
"The next murder will take place on that date, Ryuzaki," Soichiro reminded him.
"Oh, dates, dates!" L pushed himself off the wall and began pacing the width of the corridor. Why was he surrounded by such stupidity? Was there no one out there with even a modicum of common sense. "Has no one bothered to take times into account?"
Stepping forward, Soichiro caught hold of him, arresting his motion. "What do you mean?"
"I mean the dates are correct, but only in the technical sense. All the murders have been committed in the small hours." L wriggled free and resumed his pacing. Moving helped keep his mind clear. "Well, face it, it's not the kind of operation you can do in about three seconds. You'd have to make sure everyone was out and it would be a lot easier if your victim was asleep. By the time that dinner takes place, the next victim will already have been dead for over twelve hours."
"You're saying that she's not a target?"
"No, I wouldn't go that far, although the ones behind this don't seem to be interested in their victims' social status so I don't think that her being the mayor's daughter puts her in more danger than if she were any other Japanese woman. I'm saying that they're not going to kill her at the dinner. You might want to reassure the mayor."
"I'll see what I can do. Now I really have to get to work. And Ryuzaki?"
L stopped pacing and turned to face Soichiro. "Yes, Yagami-san?"
The deputy director looked at him for a few seconds, then said quietly, "If I were you, I'd search the whole internet, not just our archives. I'll see you later."
"Yeah. See you." L barely registered the words, his mind quivering as he turned and walked back into his apartment.
Told you he didn't betray you! Now, aren't you glad you didn't explode at him?
Not bothering to dignify his annoyingly smug other mind with an answer, L sat down in front of his laptop and stared at it.
Search the internet? Why would Soichiro tell him to do something like that?
He's never steered you wrong before. It's worth a try. If he's wrong and there's nothing there, it'll only take you about three seconds to find out. Hardly a waste of time.
That was true. His other mind seemed to be behaving in a much more cooperative way since...well, not to put too fine a point on it, since he'd spilled his guts to Soichiro that morning on the roof.
Exactly. You told him almost everything about yourself and the world completely failed to end. When are you going to get it into your thick skull that Yagami-san happens to be on your side?
Probably the same time that you finally decide whose side you happen to be on! L thought back peevishly. His other mind was good company, but its fickleness annoyed him sometimes.
L reached out and tapped his own name into the Search field, then hit enter and his world blew apart.
Hits. Millions of hits. Archived newspaper articles, video footage, websites, even one or two tribute sites. Sightings, false sightings, even a well-documented case of someone who had attempted to impersonate him to collect the ten million yen reward for any information.
What...
Wow. No wonder he told you to search the net. What's in that link?
I don't know! L thought back furiously. I don't know and I don't care!
Granted Watari had never actually told L his parents had abandoned him – L had come up with that little theory all by himself – but he'd never mentioned anything like this either. It was all too much information, and information that challenged everything he'd been led to believe. L reacted in the only way he knew how; he slammed the laptop shut and curled up as tight as he could, hiding his face in his knees.
When he emerged, four and a half hours had ticked off the clock and he was ravenously hungry. He'd dozed off for a while and the sick pain in his back had faded to a dull throb.
Getting to his feet, he wandered over to the refrigerator and pulled out two boxes of strawberries. One probably wouldn't be enough for this.
Note to self: buy more food tomorrow.
L perched at his desk again and ate the first box of strawberries to assuage his hunger pangs, then the second box to ensure he wouldn't be distracted by it, and finally reopened his laptop. Half curious, half afraid, he stared at the results for a full twenty minutes, trying to summon up the courage to investigate further.
What would Yagami-san do?
Probably tell you that this is the kind of decision only you can make and sit back to let you make it. So really, you wouldn't be much better off.
L grimaced. Thanks. You're a big help.
You're very welcome. All the same, I know what you mean. This is beyond weird. How is it everyone knows more about you than you do?
Reaching out, the young man clicked on the first page; an article in the Yomiuri complete with a photograph.
BOY GENIUS DISAPPEARS!
Shogo Ikeda (8), now famous throughout Japan for his successful aversion of a particularly nasty incident in England, has been missing since yesterday, when he failed to return home from school.
Homeroom teacher Megumi Sugihara reports that Ikeda-kun left school as usual with a group of his friends only to disappear somewhere on the way home. Neither neighbors nor the other children noticed anything untoward, and Ikeda-kun's whereabouts remain a mystery. According to family and teachers, he was dressed in the school uniform and carrying a backpack with the Tohoku Rakuten Golden Eagles logo on the back.
L opened up another tab and looked up Tohoku Rakuten Golden Eagles.
Oh, a baseball team. Why didn't they say that?
Next to the picture of himself at age eight, which he barely recognized as himself, was a photograph of two people outside a school, who were apparently his parents. L stared at them, poring over every single detail in the hopes that doing so might spark off some kind of memory. The caption under the picture gave their names as Kimiko and Shunichi Ikeda, names that meant nothing to him.
Then again, you were only eight when you vanished and up until then, you probably knew them better as Mom and Dad.
I know, but nothing else means anything to me either.
L reached out and touched his parents' faces on the screen with the very tips of his fingers, as though frightened the image would shatter.
There was nothing. No flash of recognition. He might as well have been looking at a picture of two strangers.
"Why can't I remember you?"
Well, there's no reason why you should. After all, you never have before.
That's not the point, L thought back wretchedly. He hadn't expected everything to come flooding back, but he'd hoped for something, some dim spark of memory. Even a subconscious sense of familiarity would have done.
Eight years old. I was eight years old. I should remember something. And why do I remember the Winchester Mad Bombings but not my family? According to the dates, I didn't get to Wammy's House until a few months after that case.
L sat there, racking his brains and going around in circles in his own mind until he felt even more lost and confused than before.
I want Yagami-san.
Yeah, it'd be good to see him. Maybe he'd be able to explain this because frankly, I'm out of ideas. Why don't you give him a call?
The young man stretched out a hand toward his phone, then stopped.
No, I can't. He's busy at work. He's probably already late because of me. I can't disturb him.
Alright then, send him an email. He can't object to that.
L stared into space for a few moments, considering this, then fired up his email and stared at that instead, not sure whether to write or not.
Doesn't he want me to be more independent? How can I be independent if I keep asking for him to come along and help me every time things go wrong?
I don't think this level of independence is quite what he had in mind.
But he's not going to... The thought faded into silence in L's head. Even in his own mind, he couldn't bring himself to acknowledge what he already knew deep down.
Not going to what? Not going to live forever? No, you're right there, so don't you think you'd better make use of his expertise while he's still around?
He's not that old, L retorted. Listening to you, anyone would think he was ready for the nursing home!
That's true. He's still got a long, healthy life ahead of him...assuming he doesn't get kicked into any more walls.
Shut up! L shut his laptop without sending the email and headed for the refrigerator. Yes, he would definitely have to buy more food tomorrow.
Taking out the last box of strawberries, L turned on the TV and settled down on the couch to watch. He couldn't seem to focus on anything just at that moment, so he might as well veg out entirely for a couple of hours.
The couple of hours stretched into three, then four, and finally early evening. It was oddly liberating to be able to watch TV without worrying about disturbing the rest of the household.
He was just starting a two hour TV drama when there was a knock on the wall.
"If you're Yagami-san, you can come in. Everyone else, please leave a message during the commercial break."
A section of the wall slid open and Soichiro stepped in, carrying a white bag.
"Having a lazy day?"
Apprehension flickered through L, waking him up a little. "Um, yeah. You don't mind, do you?"
"I think a day spent relaxing and letting your brain recover will do you the world of good. I brought you some food." Soichiro held out the bag. "I don't suppose you'll have eaten much besides strawberries."
L didn't see what was wrong with that, but he was hungry and there were some very appetizing smells coming from that bag.
"What did you get?"
"Gyoza and karaage—"
"Karaage!" L snatched the bag and dived in, rummaging around.
"I thought that would please you. There's some sushi in there as well. Take as much as you want; I've already eaten."
L emerged with a handful of gyoza and a mouthful of fried chicken and mumbled something that he meant for agreement. The chicken was delicious; hot, juicy and fluffy, just the way he liked it. Finishing his mouthful, he licked his fingers and then reached in for some more.
"Yagami-san, which baseball team do you support?" Actually, maybe he should eat the gyoza first, save the best for last.
Soichiro blinked. "I don't really. Why?"
L indicated the laptop. "Apparently I love baseball. I don't know how the game's played, but I'm a fan of the Tohoku Rakuten Golden Eagles, according to this. But..." He stared at the screen, mind spinning. "I thought...I don't know." That wasn't true; he did know what he'd thought, just not how to put it into words. "I'm no good at this sort of thing, Yagami-san."
"Did you think it would all come flooding back the moment you saw your parents' photo?"
L reached out toward the image on the screen again before remembering he was no longer alone and Soichiro would probably find it a little odd if he started caressing his laptop.
"Not quite, but I thought I'd remember something. If I read enough about me, maybe there would be a favorite restaurant or something we did together. Something that would spark off a memory."
"I'm afraid it only works that way in the movies, Ryuzaki."
"But why can't I remember? I didn't before because I never wanted to, and I'm still not sure, but what kind of kid does all this stuff with his parents and doesn't remember any of it?" L shook his head, fighting to clear it. The expressions on his parents' faces now seemed faintly accusing. "I remember everything else. Every single detail from every case I ever worked on, all the photos, the deaths, the footage, everything. Why can't I remember this?"
Soichiro didn't answer immediately. At last he said, "Are you sure you want to know the answer?"
"Do you know the answer? Please tell me if you do, because I really want to understand even if I can't remember."
"Alright. I think you were made to forget. Your memories would have become a little more hazy as you got older anyway, and the people at Wammy's House needed you to be one hundred percent controlled by your handler. That could only happen if you believed there was nobody else out there who would help you or even care. I think they just kept you working so much and so hard that you'd never have time to stop and remember your old life." Soichiro paused, then added, "Of course, I've never been to Wammy's House, so I don't know what your life was like there. But you still have the rest of your family. You could always get in contact with them if you have questions."
"There's no point. I can't remember any of them either." The thought of contacting complete strangers who just happened to be related to him both thrilled and terrified L. "This was a huge mistake," he mumbled, eyes still fixed on the screen.
"It's just a lot for you to take in."
That was putting it very mildly, in L's opinion. Having discovered that his parents had been alive for a lot longer than he'd originally thought, he now had to come to terms with the fact that instead of abandoning him, they'd done everything in their power to track him down.
"But...Watari told me they were dead. He must have known they were out there. He must have known they were still searching for me. Why didn't he say something?"
Soichiro looked at him for a few moments, then said very quietly, "I think you already know the answer to that, Ryuzaki."
He's right. You don't really believe Watari would have just sent you back to your family with a cheery wave goodbye, do you? They spent a long, long time training and conditioning you in Wammy's House. They weren't about to get rid of the best tool they ever obtained.
"This doesn't change anything! I still don't want any contact with them!" L wasn't certain whether he was talking to his other mind or to Soichiro and at that point he didn't really care.
The deputy director looked a little startled at L's vehemence, but all he said was, "Like I told you before, that's entirely up to you. I'm not going to push you one way or the other."
L was silent for a few minutes, then said, "But it would be easier for me if you did."
Soichiro shook his head, now smiling a little. "Sorry. I'll support you and help you in any way you might need, whatever you decide, but this decision's too big for me to make for you."
"I wish you'd been here earlier."
"I know and I'm sorry, but I can't justify taking any more time off work at the moment."
L just nodded. He hadn't really expected anything else.
"Yagami-san? Why didn't you tell me any of this before? When I said my family abandoned me..." He swallowed, unable to finish the sentence.
"Two reasons. First of all, you were so agitated at the time that I doubted you'd have listened anyway. Secondly, I wasn't sure how you would react to my knowing so much about you, including your real name. I wanted to wait until you trusted me enough to tell me."
The young man leaned back and considered this. He was honest enough to admit that Soichiro had a point on both counts, but there was something still bugging him.
"How did you know who I was?" When the deputy director opened his mouth to answer, L flicked a finger. "I know you looked me up in the NPA archives, that wasn't my question. Why did you link me with Shogo Ikeda, instead of some other missing kid?"
Soichiro chuckled. "Well, I wish I could tell you it was my wonderful skill at deductive reasoning, or that I'd transcribed the kanji you always trace with your finger, but the truth is that it was your hair."
L stared at the older man and wondered if all the world had gone mad, or if it was just him.
"My...hair?" He tweaked a hair out of his head and studied it, frowning. "Did you do some kind of DNA test?"
"Jet black is rather an unusual color. Most Japanese people have hair like mine. I noticed it in that photo on the missing persons report. Then there's your nose."
L's hands shot up to the nose in question, feeling it experimentally. "I have a funny nose?"
"No, you just have a small mole on the right-hand side of it." Soichiro paused. "And, of course, you told me about the bombing you prevented and that you're from Aomori, which is what really clinched it."
"But I'm dead?" It was half question, half statement.
"Officially, yes. Of course, we could change that easily enough, but the press would get hold of it and then your family would know about you."
The young man shook his head. "Then forget it. I don't want that. If there's going to be any contact, I want it to come from me." They sat in a friendly silence for a few minutes, then L cleared his throat. "Um. I know my parents filed the missing persons report. Yagami-san? Did you..." L swallowed, unable to finish the sentence. He hoped Soichiro would be able to understand what he wasn't saying. The deputy director seemed to be good at doing that, whether L wanted him to or not.
"I'm sorry, Ryuzaki, but no," Soichiro said very quietly. "I never met your parents. They would have filed the report in Aomori, not Tokyo. I suppose they would have been with you when you came to visit the NPA that time, but I don't remember them. To be honest, I can barely remember you from that day."
L looked away. "Right. Yeah. Stupid idea, I know. I just thought...with you being deputy director and everything..."
"I wasn't deputy director fifteen years ago."
"No. I suppose not." L leaned back, eyes hot and tired. Even though he'd dozed off again during the day, his body was still insisting it wanted more sleep. Stupid body, never knowing what was really important. "Sorry. That was a stupid question. I just can't seem to concentrate today. Maybe I'm coming down with a cold. What do normal people do when they're ill?"
Soichiro blinked. "It depends on the person. Most of them drag a quilt into the lounge and curl up watching movies and feeling sorry for themselves." He paused. "What about you? Did you have to keep working when you were ill?"
"Unless I was really ill, yes. But Watari would always let me work more slowly. I just hate it when my body decides to do things without my authorization. I didn't give it permission to sleep through the entire day and now it's still trying to sneak up on me for more!"
The deputy director chuckled. "You make it sound as though your body's trying to stage a coup."
"Well, it's never forced me to sleep like this before! Do normal people sleep for days at a time?"
"They do when they burn themselves out like you have. I don't suppose you've slept very much, and on top of that you're hurt and you've been running yourself into the ground trying to get involved with catching the ones behind this murder."
"But I can help," L insisted. "You'd never have gotten this far if it hadn't been for me. Did you have any breakthroughs today?"
Soichiro sighed. "No. About the only thing I've been able to come up with is the possibility that the next murder will take place in one of the special wards and maybe one that the killers haven't struck in so far. Dates and locations do seem to be important to them. Tatenaka's now come up with the brilliant theory that they're trying to do an organ transplant, which is something Matsuda and I discussed last week but which I don't think is likely."
L snorted. Organ transplants weren't as common in Japan as they were in other countries and most Japanese people in need would go overseas, where they not only stood a far better chance of finding a match, but would also be operated on by someone who did those kinds of surgical procedures every day.
"I'm not an expert in medical science, but I think a heart has to be matched like any other organ. I also think it's the kind of operation you only really get one chance at. I'd suggest you ask Matsuda but he has enough on his plate and besides, he's not really a doctor."
He frowned as something flashed through his mind, too fast for him to pin down. For a moment he struggled to recall it, then gave it up as a bad job and turned to Soichiro.
"You said the next murder might take place in one of the special wards, didn't you?"
"Yes. If I had to pick one, it would either be Kita or Shinjuku, but that's completely unofficial, Ryuzaki. I don't want you repeating it to anyone."
Some of the cobwebs blew out of L's mind at that and he straightened up, ignoring the yowl of pain from his back.
"Shinjuku?" he echoed. "Why Shinjuku?"
Soichiro stared at him. "You know something, don't you?"
"No, I suspect several somethings, and one of those is that there is a ninety seven percent chance that the next murder will take place in Shinjuku, according to my theory."
"The one you won't share with me?"
"Yes. I still have no real evidence apart from my own conclusions and I don't know who's behind it, at least, not in terms of names. But if the next murder is in Shinjuku, come to me before you go off to that dinner and I'll tell you everything. I promise." The more he thought about it, the more L became convinced that his theory was correct, but hunches and feelings didn't build a case. "Why did you say Shinjuku?"
"Because all the murders have taken place in special wards adjacent to Bunkyo. The only two that haven't been affected yet are Shinjuku and Kita."
Disappointment flooded through L. He'd hoped for so much more from Soichiro.
"I see. So basically, you're just taking an educated guess. Pity; for a moment I thought you had an actual theory."
"If you think it's so ridiculous, then let's hear yours."
L shook his head. "No. Not until the next murder." He paused, then cleared his throat awkwardly. "Um. How are Sachiko and Sayu?"
Soichiro regarded him for a few seconds, then said, "Why don't you come to dinner tomorrow evening and find out? They've both been asking about you."
Alarm shot through him and L backed away. "I can't do that!"
"Why not?"
The young man chewed his thumb for a few moments. "Because...well..."
Soichiro waited and then, when L failed to come up with anything more coherent, said, "Because you're ashamed of what happened last time and you don't want to meet them again."
L nodded vigorously.
"Well, I can't help that, Ryuzaki."
"You can. You could tell them I'm sorry."
Soichiro shook his head. "No. If you're going to apologize, you shouldn't do it through a third party."
"Another piece of fatherly wisdom?" L suggested with a slight bite to his tones.
"Yes. That particular piece happened to come from my own father, so I'd be careful what you say about it."
L uncurled enough to look at Soichiro, forgetting his dilemma in the face of this new revelation. "You have a father?"
"Everybody has a father, Ryuzaki."
"Yes, but I mean a father father," L insisted. "The kind that buys you strawberries when your world goes wrong."
"It was uiro in my case, but yes." Soichiro leaned back, then said in a deceptively casual voice, "Speaking of food, Sachiko's talking about making chicken cream stew tomorrow, if you do decide to join us for dinner."
L smiled a little, his eyes softening. "Hitomi used to make that. Only instead of slicing onions into it, she'd just get miniature ones and use them whole." He'd never dared to venture outside unless there were too many people around for him to be spotted, and he could still remember sitting in the lounge as the smells from the kitchen got stronger and stronger (he did occasionally try to help with the cooking, but although he could get by, he wasn't what you'd call a talented chef).
"Then why don't you stop by? We'd all love to see you, and Sachiko always makes too much food anyway. Don't tell her I said that."
L shifted his weight, trying to put his thoughts into words. It was tempting, and he was surprised how much he missed being with the Yagami family for meals, but still...
"Will you tell them...I mean...I'd just like to start over. I don't mind apologizing but I don't think I could handle them making a big thing of it."
"Alright, if that's what you want. And—"
L's phone trilled loudly, cutting Soichiro off.
"Sorry!" L scrambled for the phone, wincing at the irritatingly shrill noise. He would have to get some more interesting ringtones.
"It's alright. I'll leave you alone; I've got to go anyway." Soichiro got to his feet and slipped through the secret entrance before L could stop him.
Great. So who would be calling me? Whoever it is, this had better be worth it! There was no number on the display and L frowned, trying to work out who could have got hold of his number without his knowledge.
Probably some telemarketer or other. Well, he'd never had a telemarketer try to sell him things before. It might be an interesting experience.
Holding the phone delicately, he flipped it open and held it to his ear.
"Hello?"
"L, what have you done?"
L sighed. Not a telemarketer, just Roger. Far more annoying and nowhere near as easy to get rid of. He'd never liked Roger, even when he'd still been working for Wammy's House. Oh well, they'd have to have this conversation sooner or later.
"I didn't do anything, although I would have done if Sato had become any more persistent."
"Sato entered the NPA to request that his photo be removed from the newspapers. You had no right to spread lies like that about him."
"Yes I did." L lifted a piece of inarizushi in his chopsticks, did a couple of rapid mental calculations concerning the size of the morsel vs. the size of his mouth, then stuffed it all in. As soon as he was able to swallow, he added, "As much right as he had to come after me with a dart gun."
"I wasn't referring to that, L. Our finances have taken a rather alarming dip recently. You know Watari wouldn't like to think of his young prodigy stealing."
L yawned. It was no good, he'd have to sleep sometime. Maybe after he'd finished with Roger he could go back to the TV. Even if he wasn't actually ill, bundling himself up in a nice, snuggly quilt with cushions tucked around him and dozing in front of a movie sounded very tempting just then.
Oh good. What are we going to watch?
I don't know, but I'm sure there's something good on. I'll buy some DVDs tomorrow. That sounded wonderful. He could start a collection.
"L? Are you listening to me?"
Not really. L was too busy daydreaming about a room full of floor-to-ceiling bookshelves packed with books and DVDs. Of course, he'd have to buy some squashy armchairs as well, to curl up in with the aforementioned books, and some way to play music as well...
"L!"
Abruptly jerked out of building his dream entertainment room, L sighed. "Roger, all I took was the money that Wammy's House owed me. I need something now that I'm no longer working for you people and since you never bothered to pay me, I'm just claiming ten years' worth of back wages, roughly equivalent to half what Watari was paid for bringing me in to solve all those cases."
"Who told you you're no longer working for us?"
"I told myself." There was no way L was going to bring Soichiro into this. Besides, a small part of him resented the implication that he was incapable of making up his own mind.
"L, Sato is now wanted by the NPA for murder! He's even been arrested!"
L shrugged, forgetting Roger couldn't see the gesture. "The arrest wasn't my doing. I told Sato right at the beginning I wasn't going to go with him. He didn't believe me, so naturally I had to take steps to protect myself from being kidnapped. Even if he does manage to get out of jail, get hold of me – and keep me – he'll never be able to leave Japan. No private pilots will fly for him, and he'll never be allowed on a domestic flight. Anyway, he'll be out in three weeks unless I decide to press charges." Three weeks. Three sweet, wonderful, blissful, Sato-free weeks. L couldn't help smiling at the thought. Finally, he could go out and about without worrying whether Sato was going to jump out from behind the nearest building. He was already dreaming about where he'd go first. Wherever it was, it would be somewhere outside; he'd had enough of living indoors. And he wanted to buy Soichiro something nice.
"Three weeks is a long time, L. You can't look after yourself for that long, you know that."
"I know I looked after myself for the last eighteen months after your precious House abandoned me! I've also become owner of an entire apartment complex, enough to allow myself a very comfortable retirement." He leaned back in his chair, smiling a little. "And I'm only just in my twenties. Most people struggle their entire lives to get where I am. Do you really think I'll give that up to go back to being your pet? I've already dealt with Sato and if you don't back off, Roger, then my next target will be you."
"Me?" Roger said, after a pause that went on a little too long. "What do you mean by that?"
"Well, an elderly man, never married, no family, spending so much time with young children..." L shook his head, conveniently forgetting that far from spending time with the children in his care, Roger went out of his way to avoid them as much as possible.
There was a long, long silence. Then Roger said, "That's a very, very low blow, L. You know I've never done anything like what you're implying."
"Actually, all I know is that you've never done it to me. I'm sure I could persuade Mello to stand up and say you paid him a few late night visits. He'd just love to destroy the House."
"So you do know where he and Matt are."
"Matt?" L echoed. "I don't know anyone by that name."
"He was another one of ours who went missing at the same time as Mello. We think they're in it together."
"Alright. So that's two other Wammy's kids I can bring in to testify against you." L shook his head, smiling a little. This was so easy it was boring. "Thank you. I'll have to do a little research into Matt, see what motivates him. Mello's easy enough; all I'd have to promise him is ten minutes alone with Sato and he'd jump at the chance. Besides, I still remember his face. You were head of Wammy's House during Watari's absence, and a man who would allow that to be done to a ten year old boy could be guilty of anything." L shoveled more chicken into his mouth, chewed and swallowed, then leaned back. "Call Sato off, let me live my own life in peace, and I'll return the favor."
"You could never make a fabrication like that stick."
Roger was right there, which was why L had been bluffing (plus the fact that even he was aware that there were some lies you just didn't tell).
"Probably not," he conceded, "but I've already considered that. You know, I thought I was done fighting after Blue Ship, but it turns out I was wrong. I think I've got just enough left in me for one more fight. There are documents, Roger, all about Wammy's House. If I go missing, various agents in the NPA and FBI have instructions to make those documents public. If Sato becomes really persistent, those documents go public anyway."
"And what exactly is in those documents, L?"
"Wouldn't you like to know?"
"Yes, I would," Roger said calmly, "or I'd never have asked. If you're trying to coerce me into making this kind of decision, I feel I should know exactly what I'm risking. What do those documents tell people?"
"Everything. How I was taken there against my will, because after that bombing incident in England I was seen as a tool that Wammy's House just had to have. Just like all those other kids. Did you think we'd forgotten, Roger? Any of us? Cross me and you and your precious House will be ruined. Of course, I may decide to do that anyway, since I count kidnapping children among the worst crimes, but if you're very cooperative, I'll probably let you alone. Though if any other amazingly talented or intelligent children go missing, your place will be the first location I send the search and rescue teams."
He slammed the phone down and sat in silence for a few moments, his mind full of fire. Before he'd moved into Soichiro's home, a small part of him had been relieved at the thought of Wammy's House sending someone to look after him again (at least until he'd seen who it was) even as a bigger part hated the thought of giving up his freedom. That part had grown larger and larger and now L was beginning to get angry.
How dare they keep hunting me like this? What do I have to do to get the message through to them?
The phone rang again and he picked it up automatically. "Hello?"
Roger's voice wafted through the receiver. "L, that wasn't very—"
L hung up again. This time he took the phone off the hook. It might be problematic if Soichiro tried to get hold of him, but the deputy director could always come by in person, or if it was really urgent, send a message via his family.
In the meantime, we have a case to solve.
L crossed over to the cutlery drawer and took out the file he'd put there (since he often had a snack while solving cases, it made sense to keep any file as close to the refrigerator as possible).
As files went, this one was nowhere near as impressive or detailed as Soichiro's – L hadn't got around to hacking into the NPA reports on this case yet – consisting of several newspaper articles, a list detailing where each body had been found and when, and a printout of Tokyo from Google maps with konpeito stuck on to mark the location of the bodies.
L pulled a half empty bag of konpeito out of his jeans and rooted around in it for a color he hadn't used on the map yet, eventually settling on bright blue. Lifting the tiny sweet to his mouth, he bit it delicately in half, then licked the underside of one piece and stuck it onto the map.
Taito. He studied his handiwork for a few minutes, then replaced it in the file with a sigh, poured the rest of the konpeito into his mouth and crunched noisily. He respected and admired Soichiro Yagami more than he had ever respected and admired anyone in his life, but honestly, if the man didn't come up with a better theory than the one L had just heard before the twenty fourth of June, he would have to start giving him hints.