well hello there.

been a while. quite a long, long while…

It's great because for last chapter most of you were like "I LOVE THEM TOGETHER BUT WAT" and then the rest were all "PLEASE SAVE MASAMI'S SOUL DO NOT LET THEM WIND UP TOGETHER"

Alas, I've had the ending planned from the very beginning, and it's not changing no matter the general consensus of y'all. So, in the words of Scar, be prepared.

Brownie points to anyone who can recognize the Hannibal references sprinkled throughout.

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"In this world, there are very few people who actually trust each other."

-Yagami Light

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Shinju called it honeymooners bliss.

I called it stretching the time between now and Kira's next inevitable fuck fest as long as humanly possible.

Five weeks. Three days. Fourteen hours.

Only a fraction of the time I'd lived in the admittedly pricey apartment, but Light had used every second of it to make himself at home. He was like a stray cat who had roamed in through the door one afternoon and made itself perfectly comfortable amongst the mess of paints and blueprints and candy wrappers.

Five weeks. Three days. Fourteen hours.

And Light was getting antsy.

He worked, I job hunted, and the pair of us came together at night to lie in aggravated silence, broken only by a snarky comment or the casual reminder of plans for the next day. I could practically see his gauge of patience running on empty. Kira wasn't meant to lie idle. And I'd promised to help him. And I clearly wasn't putting any effort into my half of the agreement.

I drummed my fingers casually over the tabletop, keeping a constant tempo as I shifted through pages upon pages of inquiries.

It wasn't like I didn't have jobs lined up—the daughter of the Yamashita Corporation was on the market, and the offers had begun to pool in hardly an hour after the diploma had been placed into my hands. But nothing fit with Light's plans. I needed some kind of control in the media.

My head lolled back with a sigh that shook my bones.

Best to get it over with.

"Shinju?"

"What?"

"What do you hate about Kira?"

"What."

"Fine. What do you hate that I hate about Kira?"

Shinju rolled off the couch and came to drape herself over my shoulders. "Are you really prepared for me to answer that?"

I frowned. "No. But I need to be." I picked up a stray pen. "Shoot."

"Really?"

"Really, really."

She sat herself neatly into the chair across from mine. "I thought you were impartial. When did this whole 'hate' thing come into play?"

I hummed. "Alright. Not the best question. How about, what about Kira's supporters do you not like?"

Her brow furrowed.

"What does this have to do with anything?"

"Other than them almost murdering me at my own art show?"

"Yes."

I tapped the table, agitated. "I may not be 100% in support of Kira or what he does, but even I can come to terms with the fact that he's not going anywhere anytime soon. And I can't change that. But even though Kira may be out of reach, his supporters aren't. Look," I set my pen down and folded my hands across the table, professional. "Maybe Kira has a point with the whole 'get rid of evil people' thing. I get it. I do. But his supporters? Some of them are worse than the criminals he punishes."

Shinju gestured for me to continue.

"And they need to be taken down."

She tilted her head, platinum hair falling into her eyes but doing nothing to mask her bewilderment.

"And where the heck are you even supposed to start with that?"

I retrieved the pen and a mostly blank sheet of paper. "That's where I need your help."

"You've got to be kidding me."

"I'm not."

"But seriously—"

"Seriously," I cut in. "If I'm trying to take down the obsessives, who better to ask than another rabid fan?"

She didn't look offended at all. "You may have a point."

"Of course I do."

She sighed and leaned forward to scrounge through the ads and articles scattered across the tabletop. "These are all about local media stations."

I shrugged. "I didn't know where else to start."

"Well, you'll need to go bigger. The NHN maybe. I don't think that they hired a permanent replacement yet after the whole, you know, kidnapping and brutal death thing."

I frowned, mouth twisting like I'd bit into something vile. "I'm not going to become the anti-Takada."

"Really? Because that sounds exactly like what you're doing."

I rubbed at my temples, trying to ignore the fledgling headache taking root there. "Alright. Changing lanes—let's go back to the supporters."

"If we must."

"What riles you up?" I hesitated. From what I knew, that list stretched on endlessly. "Scratch that. What settles you down?" A pause. "What scares you?"

She shrugged. "Kira, basically. Though I don't think he would ever really go after someone like me, you know? I mean, especially if he was willing to protect someone like you who doesn't even support him. I doubt I'm anywhere on his hit list."

Hit list.

"His hit list. Being the people he kills? The criminals?"

"Well, duh."

"And you guys follow that?"

"Stop asking stupid questions."

I paused to scratch away at the paper beneath my pen, carefully keeping it out of Shinju's probing gaze.

"'List' implies a set agenda. Lists have ends."

She frowned.

"Not this one."

"Are you sure?"

Her eyes narrowed, leery. "Yes."

"But what if it did?"

Shock.

It was fleeting and it was small—barely a flicker through her dark eyes—but it was still there.

"It won't."

And that was it—beneath the just-there headache and the nearly crippling sense of confusion and helplessness, an idea.

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'Kozue. 1900'

I rubbed my eyes.

"What is it?"

More rubbing. Though my fingers had shifted to my temples rather than my abused lids.

"My father." I tossed my phone over the side of my bed and crawled back into the cocoon of blankets. "He knows."

Light shifted against my back. "He said something?"

"He didn't have to," I hummed, tired. "When someone knows you, there's no escaping when they see that something's not right. And he knows everyone. It's what he does."

Light frowned into my hair. "Your sister knows you. Your mother too. Shinju, even."

"Don't be a little shit about it. There's a difference between knowing and knowing, and you know that."

His lips twitched upward. I could feel them against my scalp. "I do."

"Your family 'knows' you well enough, and I doubt they'll be breaking down the door, screaming about Kira and fraudulent relationships any time soon. Think of all the people you've known who knew you. Who knew Yagami Light was the perfect little wuss puss with the model's eyebrows and perfect perfectness…" I paused, considering. "I don't think anyone knows you when I think about it. Not really."

"You know me."

I snorted. "That's different."

"Is it?"

"I was lucky—or unlucky rather. I can't say you're not as good as you think you are, because you clearly are," I grimaced, "but you were good in all the wrong ways. My dad sees it too."

"Joy. So there's two of you now."

I kicked his shin underneath the covers.

"He doesn't like you, you know."

"I gathered."

"And what exactly are you planning to do about it?"

"What are you going to do about it?"

I shrugged. "Tell him the truth."

The grip around my waist tightened to the bare threshold of pain. I shifted uncomfortably and Light only clenched on all the more doggedly.

"Relax, would you? Jeesh. Not the whole truth. Only parts of it." Some of that tightness receded, but he didn't move away. "Lies are most believable when you sprinkle some honesty throughout."

"And you're going to tell him what exactly?" he scoffed. "That your fiancé kills criminals in his spare time? That you're just the very best of pals with a God of Death and feed him apples when you're bored? That you helped orchestrate the suicide of one of Japan's most beloved stars?"

The last accusation made me flinch, but I schooled it with a sharp frown.

"No. I'm going to drop enough hints to let him know that I know what I'm doing. And that he shouldn't bother getting involved."

"With what? Being Kira's personal assistant?"

Another venomous glower that would have sent most men scrambling for cover.

"Playing our families, the rest of Japan, and even the world into thinking that we're just two not-quite morons in love."

"And you're sure it's going to work?" he asked. If I didn't know better, I'd almost say he was concerned on my behalf.

"About as well as my plan for dealing with your rabid fanboys."

He jolted and the satisfaction of catching him off guard was like the fuzzy and all-pervading warmth of hot chocolate on a cold afternoon.

"Your what?"

"Are you deaf?"

He took a moment to situate himself, to gather his bearings and process this new tidbit of information. It was a move in this little game of his that he'd wanted to plan for, but had never expected. It was lovely.

"You have a plan?"

At this point, the utter consternation was almost insulting.

"Of course I do. We said I'd think about it, and I thought about it. And my poor little pedantic brain managed to hack something up."

"And you were going to tell me about this…?"

"Do you hand in a project uncompleted? It's still in baby-stage. Relax."

That angry frown had morphed into the most self-satisfied smirk and I wanted to pinch his cheeks to drive it away.

"Chill your goose. It's not a full plan. Still in development, practically a zygote if we're keeping with the fetal comparisons."

"But you know what you're doing."

"But it's not finished."

"But it will work," he preened. "I'm sure."

I rolled my eyes toward and the ceiling in exasperation. "Ever hear of Doctor Faustus? Macbeth? Sooner or later, karma is going to come and bite you in your smug ass. And you're going to lose." And drag me down with you.

"There's nothing out there coming for me, only me. I've made sure of that."

A pause. "So that's it then. If you can't beat God, become him?"

Light snorted. "There is no God."

"Excuse you."

He rolled his eyes. I cracked open an eye to smirk at the shadows looming in the corner.

"It's alright, Ryuk. I believe in you."

Light's grip tightened, demanding my focus.

"Stay on topic. This plan of yours—"

"—can wait 'til morning," I huffed, snuffling into my pillows lazily. "It's late. You have work. I have my father. And I have a feeling you're not going to like it when you hear it."

"Masami—"

I dug my knee into his side. "Just. Please. Give me until tomorrow."

I could feel his jaw working against my hair, like he was chewing over a slew of complaints, but eventually he settled. He buried himself further into my side and I could feel each of the muscles in his arms, his legs, his chest, clench and loosen as he forced himself to relax.

Light sighed.

"Alright."

I hadn't been aware I'd been holding my breath until I felt my lungs relax and the telltale whoosh of hot air passing between my lips. It should have been insignificant, but for some odd reason I felt like I'd swiped a piece from his side of the board. Not a queen, nothing like that. But I'd recovered ground.

I curled into my pillow with a smile and Ryuk cackled in the corner.

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The heady scent of my father's scotch always made my nose itch. Too sharp. Too strong. He swirled it lazily in his glass, eyes trailing on the stray drops that clung to the sides. Dalmore. His favorite. He wouldn't waste any of it, not even those specks.

I took another gulp from my own chilly mug of tea that had long since turned to cold slush.

The food was good, as always. Kozue's impressive reputation hadn't fortified itself under the weight of false praise. Everything had been delicious and the spread of desserts laid out before us was almost enough to make me forget about the disagreeable silence that had hung over us since we'd sat down to dine almost two hours ago.

Even with all the chocolates and honeys and sugars, the smell of the liquor still made my nostrils twinge uncomfortably.

"I've always been a fan of the tragedies in European literature," he hummed, focused intently on the crystalline amber contents of his glass. "But the fables and fairytales. Those have always held a special place in my heart. You know that, don't you?"

I smoothed the napkin over my lap, mindfully ignoring the sweat that had started to accumulate on my palms.

"Of course I do." His favorite was 'The Monkey and the Dolphin.' I twisted the napkin between my fingers. "Grimm. You always liked them."

He nodded.

"Surprising how relevant they are, even today. Especially today." Another sip. I thought of the Dolphin holding the monkey under the water for its lies. "How easily we construct fairytales. And we accept them."

And there it was.

I hid the downward twist of my mouth behind my own drink before glancing up to meet his eyes over the rim.

"You know better than anyone that I never believed in fairytales."

"And has that changed?"

"No."

Somehow, he managed to look both relieved and even more concerned all at once. His gaze was unwavering and usually I would avert my own. But not today. Perhaps never again.

Another slow sip of scotch.

He hid it well. He'd made a career off of hiding it—fooling people, fooling himself even. He was a tycoon, a terror. I loved him. But this was a game I needed to rig. He could think he'd won, but it could only be the victory I'd offered him.

"What do you believe in then?"

I smiled, soft, demure.

"Monsters."

He tensed, but only for a moment.

"Monsters? Sounds enough like a fairytale to me."

I sipped at my tea. "A story of my own design then."

And then there was that click.

The moment everything fell into place.

I could see it in his eyes, his mouth, his very being. He knew. Perhaps not all of it. Perhaps not even most of it. But he knew that I was certainly not in love with Yagami Light, and that he was certainly not in love with me.

"Monsters are dangerous."

"So I've heard."

"They're hard to kill, even in fairytales. If I'd taught you anything, I'd hoped I'd taught you that."

"Some monsters are better left alive."

He downed what little whiskey remained in his glass and poured himself another finger's worth. Then a bit more.

"And you think your monster is one of those. A beast that deserves to thrive."

Kira was far away but I could feel his reaper's laughter in my ears and his firm hand on my shoulder.

"Not particularly."

Lie.

"Then what then?"

I hesitated. "Call it… a compromise."

Truth.

His eyes hardened. "Like a princess in a tower? Bend to the will of the dragon to keep it from eating you whole, even if it means watching all the others burn?"

"Of course not."

"No matter how safe you think you are, it can come for you just as easily. Monsters keep no promises. They have no moral code like you or I."

I narrowed me eyes, icy. But my gut churned unpleasantly. He was right, of course. But this was my game as much as his, as much as Kira's. It may have taken me a while to find my footing, but I had it now, and I wasn't going to let myself slip.

"Give me a bit more credit than that. I know what I'm doing."

Dark eyes softened with concern. "Do you really?"

"You come across a stray and it follows you home. You adopt it and it bites you. Do you put it down? It was ultimately your decision to bring it into your life, even if it had been the one to pursue you first. You can't kill it. Maybe couldn't even if you really wanted to. So what do you do?"

He stared at me for a long moment before lifting the glass to his lips. "Tame the dragon?"

I smiled and lifted my own mug in a half-toast. "Tame the dragon."

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Short. So short.

But I swear on all my everything that the next chapter will be up by Saturday. Maybe before. I had so much stuff going on and so much writer's block that I just backed out. And now I'm on vacation and everything is flooding back and it's amazing.

I just wanted to get something posted right away because the next bit seems like it's going to take a lot of pages and I had no idea how long that would delay this chapter.

So, like I said. Next chapter up by Saturday at the latest.

See you then, dearies.