Matsuda
As Aizawa told me about what Yoko had done, including the way she committed suicide in the parking lot, I felt my eyes threatening to fall out of my head. My mind didn't want to accept that she was dead, or how badly we'd been betrayed. Furiously, I ran through the night I'd spent at the bar with her, again and again, looking for answers, but as I remembered how level-headed and confident she'd been, and the comfort it had given me to be there with her, the more impossible her betrayal and suicide became.
"There's gotta be a mistake," I cut in, before Aizawa could finish. "Yoko wouldn't do that to us."
Awkwardly, he shifted his weight, staring at me, and right then, more than any time before in my life, I wanted him to be tough, to tell me something matter-of-fact and stern and logical. Something to help all this make sense.
But the ferocity had vanished from his eyes, and his face looked haggard. I could tell he was about to give up, and I didn't blame him. Watching Miyami kill himself had been rough enough, but to see someone who was supposed to be your ally blow her own head off…
I can't believe it.
"She couldn't have," I insisted, gazing down the hall, willing her to appear and explain herself. "She would never have worked for someone like the Reaper."
With a sigh, he faced the window to stare out at the parking lot, and I was afraid to follow his gaze and imagine her lying down there with a bullet in her head.
"I didn't mean to tell her about Light." Maybe, if I hadn't done that, she'd still be alive. "It's not like she made me. I just…got so tired of it eating at me. I wanted to say it out loud. I trusted her."
"Well," he muttered, finally, "be that as it may, she turned right around and told the man who did that to you." He gestured to the bandages wound around my arm. "You could even say it was her fault that happened at all."
Absently, I rubbed the wound, imagining I could feel the sickening shape of the sutures beneath the gauze. "She didn't do it on purpose. She… We were friends."
Just like Light. Even after he'd betrayed us, I'd fallen into the same trap of trusting people who didn't care about me.
Overwhelmed, I fell back into my chair. "Is it always like this, Ai? Is this…just how it is? Being a detective?"
For a long time, he didn't answer, but what he'd said earlier, promising that he, and Ide, and Mogi, would never betray me seemed impossible to believe; believing it seemed stupid.
"People just use you? And lie to you? Stab you in the back?"
Slowly, he turned to give me a long look. "I don't know how you got so far along in life without noticing, Matsuda."
"I just always tried to see the good in everyone," I admitted. "Tried to see the bright side." Again, I touched my sliced arm. "I guess…I should stop that. I really thought Yoko wanted to help us."
Aizawa heaved another, deeper sigh. "Yoko did want to help us. She didn't know what she was doing, and when she found out, she couldn't come to terms with it. That's why she's dead." He lifted his hands from his sides in a tired gesture of frustration. "In a way, I guess she was just as naïve as you."
"Yeah…" I swallowed hard. "That…really sucks."
A faint light of concern touched his eyes. "Yoko had her reasons for what she did. I guess, if you're cynical, you can tell yourself it was all about the money, and she just got in over her head."
"Maybe," I agreed, dully. "Or maybe she really was just trying to bring the truth to light and didn't realize she was working for bad people."
"That's what she wanted me to believe."
"Do you?"
He lowered his eyes. "I don't think it matters what I believe, Matsuda. I'm already cynical."
Twenty years of being a cop had made him that way, I guessed, but, in my happy-go-lucky, idiotic way, I'd never considered how he might have been when he was young, I'd just thought his worldliness and cynicism had made him tough and cool. For all I knew, once upon a time, he'd been just like me, and going through things like this—getting betrayed and misused—had turned him into the guy I knew.
Facing it for the first time ever, I could see how that worked, and it made me afraid to think of how I'd turn out. I didn't know how to stop it.
I swallowed hard and gazed up the hall, toward the ER.
Only a few hours ago, the three of us had sat there, waiting to hear about Mogi's condition. Yoko's concern had seemed genuine. The things she'd had to say about Mogi had sounded real. The way she'd encouraged the two of us to make up had made a difference.
Tiredly, I got to my feet again. "I…want to believe Yoko cared about us. Just like I want to believe, somewhere, deep in his heart, Kira really was trying to make the world a better place."
"I know you do," Aizawa exhaled, painfully.
"I don't want to be cynical like you… No offense. I want to see the bright side and find the good in people. If I can't do that, I don't see the point in being a cop."
Jerkily, he nodded.
"Does that make me stupid?"
He shook his head.
"It's really hard." I swept my fingers through my bangs and realized I'd been shaking all day. Maybe I'd never stopped shaking after my encounter with Miyami. "I don't know how I can go on like this. Maybe that's why I'm not sure how to really be myself anymore."
Aizawa held my gaze for a long time, and I thought for sure he'd snort and grumble that he wasn't my guidance counselor and tell me, again, that I needed professional help.
Instead, he reached out and very gently nudged me, the look in his eyes tormented by regret.
Despite his cynicism, Aizawa had always struck me as the kind of person who tried to be strong for other people when they couldn't be strong themselves. I'd seen him do it for me, over and over, since Light died. Once, I'd even believed that if I could borrow some of the strength I saw in him, I had enough optimism for both of us.
"I want to stop the person who's doing all this to us," I husked. "And I want to get justice for Yoko, and Chiba, and Okoshi, and everyone else who's dead."
"I do too."
"Please don't bench me."
"Matsuda," he sighed once more, heavier than ever, and scraped his fingers against the grain of his hair. "I…don't even have that option anymore." Unceremoniously, he handed me the thick file Yoko had given him.
With trembling hands, I thumbed through it, feeling sick to find so much information and photos pertaining to our case, even things we hadn't known before today.
"It's make or break now," he explained. "We have everything we need to catch this guy…except manpower."
I slumped back against the wall. "So, what now?"
He pointed to the handwritten address at the top of the file. "According to Yoko, the Reaper is hiding out at this location."
It was written a little sloppily, and my vision seemed blurry anyway, but it looked like a business address in Shibuya, not too far from the station.
"We have to drop by the station to report Yoko's death, so we may as well get a search warrant while we're there, and then we'll go check it out." He rubbed the bridge of his nose, and I thought he sounded completely hopeless. "We'll try to get some back up."
It sounded like a suicide mission, and I didn't think I could be optimistic about it, just like it looked like Aizawa didn't have any strength left to share.
"Anyway," he mumbled, "I'm gonna go check on Ide before we move out."
I watched him move across the hall and enter Ide's hospital room; half stepping after him, I lingered by the door, torn between going in and putting on a brave face, and turning away, pretending this wasn't happening at all.
In the dark of the room, I heard Aizawa whisper, "Hideki. Hey, you awake?"
Ide groaned and turned over. "Am now," he slurred.
Hesitantly, Aizawa explained, "Matsuda and I gotta get going. We've got a pretty good lead to follow up on, so we're gonna strike while the iron's hot."
"Just the two of you?"
"No, of course not. We're dropping by the station first to see if we can organize a team."
Ide drew a long pause. He must know Aizawa well enough to be able to tell he was in distress. "Maybe you shouldn't, Shuichi."
"There isn't another option."
"There must be something other than going over there with an insufficient amount of men and risking never coming back."
"What are you talking about?" Aizawa huffed. "Don't talk to me like that."
"You're the one who came in here, acting like he's saying goodbye for the last time. If you're gonna go die, Shuichi, you might as well have let me sleep through it."
"I'm not going to die, Hideki."
I heard Ide emit a soft sigh. "You'd better not. You have a lot of people waiting for you to come back safe…"
"Of course. I'd do anything in my power to get to see my kids again."
"Sometimes, I'm not sure," Ide admitted. "I know you love Yumi and Tomi…"
I hadn't seen Yumi or Tomi in a long time, but when I pictured their little faces, and imagined how they'd burst into tears when they heard about their dad dying, my heart broke.
"You've been trying to carry the weight of the whole world on your shoulders since the day I met you," Ide went on, gravely. "I don't think you ever meant to have a family. I think you meant to die fighting to make the world a better place."
"For fuck's sake," Aizawa groaned. "Where's the nurse to turn down your morphine dose? I have no intention of dying, Hideki."
"I'm just saying, as much as you love the kids, and Eriko, I know you will go off and die trying to make Tokyo safe for them."
That did sound like Ai. Cynical or not, he had people to fight for, a sense of the greater good, a real, tangible reason to want to improve things.
I don't have anything like that.
"Besides, it's not just your family," Ide went on when Aizawa didn't argue with him. "I always knew you'd be chief someday—I declined the promo to captain so I wouldn't get in your way—and as much as maybe you don't want it, I think the NPA needs you. Working so hard at this case while everyone else hides just proves it."
I thought that was true, too. Like I'd told Ai earlier, there had been a zillion reasons Soichiro recommended him for chief, and he didn't have to mention any of them. I just knew. Because when Aizawa transferred to the Kira case in the first place, half the squad went with him. He organized his own task force when L drove him away from ours. He was a true leader. And he was real, and honest, and he cared about his subordinates, right down to someone as lowly ranked and pathetic as me.
Besides, if he didn't become the chief, who knew who they'd choose? Some snake, like Oshima, who'd sell his men out and make deals with devils? The NPA would fall apart from the inside.
As I stared at the outline of his broad shoulders in the dark, my eyes started to sting. Under all the prickliness and attitude, he was the good guy I'd always thought he was, and he deserved to make it home.
"Hideki, I didn't come in here to say goodbye forever to you."
"We have to face reality though, Shuichi. If you don't solve this case, the Reaper wins—Kira wins—you'd never let Matsuda take the fall all by himself. I thought I would be there to help you…to keep anything from happening… I'm sorry I can't be. And if you don't come back…I don't know how I'll live with that."
"This is ridiculous. I'm coming back, Hideki." He leaned down to grasp Ide's wrist. "I promise."
I looked at the file shaking in my hand, studying the address on top, and then I tossed it into the nearest chair, and turned on my heel, and marched up the hall, as quickly and quietly as possible.
Despite my fear, despite the danger, I could not be responsible for the death of Shuichi Aizawa. I could not be the one to tell his wife and kids he was gone.
As luck would have it, I got a cab driven by a chatty, middle-aged guy bent on talking about the weather and asking me about my plans for the evening. Still, I caught him sending me curious, nervous looks in the rearview mirror, so obviously, he didn't think I was the typical young man out on the town. I was such a mess anymore, I couldn't imagine how I looked to a total stranger.
Other than answering a couple of his questions, I kept my mouth shut, letting my mind slowly turn to a whirling pool of despair and rage.
All of this was too much—not just losing Yoko, but watching Sayu run away, seeing Anubis shoot Mogi, being tortured by Miyami—all within the same twenty-four hours. Now I knew where to find the man responsible for all that pain, and even if I died in the process, I would make him pay.
At least the drive was short. We pulled up in front of a sleek, silver skyscraper, gleaming in the night, just as green thunderheads gathered behind it.
Violent wind gushed through my hair as I stormed up the steps, focused on the cold bite of the gun in my hand. I'd left everyone behind, and now the pistol and my fury, were the only protection I had. If I couldn't control them, I'd die.
Not an easy death either. A true nightmare.
I must be out of my mind.
Throwing open the doors, I charged into an ordinary-looking lobby, where a smiling receptionist sat behind a shiny desk.
"I need to meet with Toyoshi-san," I told her in a voice too black and angry to be mine.
"Ah," she folded her hands. "You must be Matsuda-san."
The sound of my name stopped me cold, and I stared at her, but she didn't look dangerous.
To my look, she simply smiled all the brighter and explained, "I was told you might be stopping by."
My mind raced. They knew I was coming. Did someone tip them off?
"Who told you that?" I husked.
From the corner of my eye, I saw a dark shape move at the far corner of the lobby, and I heard the familiar click of a gun being cocked.
I dove over the desk, dragging the receptionist to the floor with me, just as an explosion of bullets flashed over my head.
The woman screamed, and we slammed against the floor. I scrambled up again, pressing tightly into the desk, while she huddled, whimpering.
Not breathing, I held very still.
"Oooh, Matsuda-chan!" an unfamiliar voice chimed out. "C'mon out—I know I missed."
I drew a deep breath.
Another, gruffer voice called, "I didn't think you'd show, Matsuda-chan. I had you pegged for a coward."
"The Reaper knew though. The Reaper knows all."
On the floor, the receptionist squeaked, "Wh-what's g-going on?"
Was I supposed to believe Toyoshi had just guessed I would show up here? He must be keeping an eye on our team, so he'd be aware that Aizawa and I were the only ones left in commission. If he knew Yoko had gotten to Oshima, he might have just guessed. Maybe, before he died, Oshima had even managed to tip him off. Or maybe someone else had told him, someone like…
Don't go there. Focus. Focus.
I listened carefully. I'd only heard two voices so far, but there could be ten more guys covering them, and I had no way to tell.
An insane laugh echoed through the open lobby. "You're wasting your time! No matter what you do, no matter where you go, Death will find you!"
Blocking out the terror threatening to invade my mind, I forced myself to breathe. Getting shot here in the first five minutes would be humiliating, even if I wasn't there to see Aizawa identify my mutilated corpse or hear him, mutter, "that's what he gets for going without me."
Don't be stupid. If I get shot here in the first five minutes, Ai is probably going to get killed next.
It just wasn't like him to roll his eyes and look the other way. He'd be furious, he'd storm in here like an idiot, trying to end it all, and that would be on me.
The anger boiled up inside me, shouting, take the risk—you're going to die here anyway!
I shook that away. The image of Anubis blowing apart the desk to shoot Mogi filled my mind.
Focus.
Again, a voice called, "At the count of three, I want you on your feet with your hands behind your head. Got that?"
The desk… It wasn't good cover.
"One."
Why hadn't they shot me yet?
"Two."
Toyoshi wants me alive.
"Three!"
I popped up above the desktop, raising my gun.
Near me, a man in black tried to lift his weapon to shoot.
I fired twice. He went down.
On the right, I noticed movement, spun on the balls of my feet, just in time to gun another down.
A bullet zinged past my ear.
Behind.
Shouting, I rolled over the desk and ducked down on the other side. Bullets exploded through the wood, each one making my heart jump.
I raced suddenly for the stairwell, firing at the third gunman as I went. The first shot missed, but the next two found their marks—one in the shoulder, the next in the forehead. He flew back.
Under the rattling sound of gunfire, I heard someone shout, "That fucker's crazy!"
I dropped to my knees, sliding the last few feet to duck behind the wall.
Five shots so far. Five left.
Five bullets would not get me out of this.
Struggling to hear over the sound of my own panting, I dared to poke my head around the wall locate the source of the bullets.
Someone fired a pop shot that came nowhere near to hitting me.
By the elevator.
Right by my head, plaster exploded as another shot narrowly missed. They could have hit me ten times over by now—they must be missing on purpose.
Big mistake.
I reached out and fired from behind the wall. A cry of pain echoed through the lobby, and then all fell silent.
Drawing my arm back in, I crouched, breathing heavily and listening as the minutes ticked by. No footsteps. No guns being reloaded. No voices. That didn't make it safe…
At last, I got up again and peeked around the corner, scanning the lobby, but it looked like I was alone with the corpses of the men I'd killed. Blood spilled across the white, marble floor. Behind the desk, the receptionist whimpered.
I crossed the room carefully, gun held at the ready, turning in every direction, eyes darting and watching, and then I ducked behind the desk again.
The receptionist sat up on her knees, clutching her head between both hands. Mascara dripped from her terror-glazed eyes.
"Are you all right?" I panted, touching her shoulder with a trembling hand.
Her glasses sat crooked now on her nose, and her red lips quivered, but she nodded, sobbing, "I-I think so…"
"I'm with the NPA. Akki Toyoshi is a criminal involved in the black arms deal."
Eyes gleaming with tears of fear and confusion, she warbled, "I-I don't understand… Th-the NPA sent you to infiltrate…all by yourself?"
Voices shouted, far, far down the hall on the left.
"Get out of here," I ordered. "Wait until it's safe, and then run."
She gave a shaky nod.
"Don't let them see you."
The voices drew closer, not just calling out, but shouting, fiercely. I heard them scream my name, out for my blood.
Even if they want me alive, I could still be shot.
My heart jolted, and an image of Light, staggering and bloody, screaming wildly, shot through my mind.
Focus.
I jumped up and scrambled to the nearest body, where I found a submachine gun with a fresh clip.
Clutching it tightly, I sprinted for the stairs, and grabbed up another nine millimeter on my way. The magazine was a higher capacity than mine, with fifteen shots left, so I slammed it home, listening as the voices closed in.
"There he is!" Three men in black suits burst out from the hallway, aiming automatic weapons at me, trigger fingers itching. "Hold it right there, Mr. Policeman!"
I turned on them and squeezed the trigger, sending a short burst of bullets into their midst. The machine gun was like nothing I'd ever experienced before. It didn't have a lot of recoil, but its accuracy wasn't great either. My arms rattled all the way up to my shoulders.
The first man screamed as a spray of rounds hit him, tearing him apart. He collapsed and his comrades had to stumble over his body.
I made a mad dash for the stairs and bolted up, taking two steps at a time. Gunfire boomed through the stairwell, and a bullet ricocheted off the walls.
"After him!"
Keeping low, I fired behind me arbitrarily as I ran. I heard another man fall down, screaming in pain, and then I knew there was only one left to chase me.
On the sixth floor, I hit a wall of men all dressed in dark suits with red k's sewn into their jackets. They caught me off guard, and I staggered.
None of them fired. One ordered me to drop my weapons.
Being wanted alive definitely gave me an edge.
Good for me. My mind raced. Here I was infiltrating the main headquarters of a crime syndicate, going right for the boss, who wanted to torture me to death, and I thought being wanted alive was just great.
No holding back.
Screaming, gun blazing, I ran right for them. They dropped left and right, and I leapt over their bodies. Up the stairs, more voices shouted. Men flooded down toward me, only a few flights away.
I crashed through the door to the sixth floor and exploded out into a long corridor. Shoes squeaking on the polished floor, I slid to a stop. The hall was empty. The men behind me were closing in. I bolted for the elevator, far down the hall, just as they came out, hot on my heels.
A bullet grazed my arm, ripping through my clothes and scraping off the first layer of my skin. I stumbled against the wall. "Dammit!" I forced myself to keep running, eyes fixed on the elevators.
Just a few more steps.
The doors opened. A new wave of men marched out, flagging me with their guns.
I stopped hard, wound up falling on my butt and dropping my machine gun.
A man stood over me, reaching down to grab my shirt front. "It's all over, kid," he sneered.
Panicking, I whipped out my pistol, blowing one perfect shot through his face. Brains and blood sprayed the wall behind him, and he slumped to the floor.
Barely slipping through their fingers, I rolled to the side, leapt up, and jagged past the elevator, running blindly down the hall. There were a lot of them behind me now, and I was getting nowhere.
This was a bad idea, I told myself, as I ripped around the corner. Any moment now, I'd be shot, and that would be the end of this whole stupid thing.
Ahead of me, a door loomed. Fire exit. My stomach sank. I drew a deep breath and ran faster, diving forward. I didn't know what to expect on the other side. The door burst open, and an alarm screamed. A gust of cold, wet wind hit me, and the luminous city sprawled below me, blazing with nightlife.
I must be out of my mind.
A scream tore out of me.
I sprang from the platform, barely snagging the rungs of the fire escape, and my hand slipped along the wet steel as the momentum of my body flew forward. Heart pounding, I clung to the ladder, breathing so hard I thought I'd puke up my heart.
But then, I was climbing, hand over hand, as fast as I could.
Below me, the door burst open.
"Holy shit! The little fucker jumped!"
"No, he's up there!"
The ladder rattled.
I paused to aim back the man climbing up after me. His dead body slumped against his comrade, and they both tumbled from the side of the building.
The next in line screamed, "Fuck! I'm not going out there!"
"Just shoot him!"
"You dumb ass! Reaper wants him alive!"
Panting raggedly, I blocked out the wind and the terrifying sense of all the space below me, focusing on the climb.
This is insane.
If they got onto the fire escape above me, I'd be screwed, and I was beyond terrified now. Rain began to pour, and the wind picked up—I thought it would sweep me off the building and throw me to my death. My teeth chattered and my heart raced.
"Holy shit," I breathed. "Holy shit, holy shit…" My elbows and knees buckled with every rung I reached for, and my vision threatened to go dark.
A hideous face appeared in the window next to me. I took aim, fired, and kept climbing.
Hours seemed to pass. Rain hammered me until I was drenched. My fingers got so numb and cold, I thought I'd lose my grip, and soon my arms burned. It took all my willpower to keep my eyes fixed on the top of the building. If I so much as thought about the drop, I knew I'd freeze up, and the fire department wasn't coming to get me.
Finally at the top, I fired a few shots at the window and kicked in the glass, feeling it shred through my ankle; I tried to climb through carefully, but I was shaking so bad, frantic to have solid ground under my feet again, I wound up getting cut after all. My shoes found plush carpet, and I collapsed, lying in a heap, feeling like I could hyperventilate.
No time.
Shuddering, I forced myself to get a grip and looked down at myself; both my sleeves were shredded, arms slashed to ribbons, and blood poured off them. "Sh-shit…"
Getting unsteadily to my feet, I hunched over, hands on my knees, still shaking all over. I'd known this would be hard, but God, this was too much. When I found Toyoshi, I was going to take it all out of his skin.
If I even could. When I first got here, a vicious anger controlled me, growing out of a dark fear that something could happen to Aizawa next, and it had driven me. Now though, the fury had started to subside, and I felt dead cold, afraid to my very core. I might not have the guts to kill Toyoshi.
Come to think of it, I didn't even know where Toyoshi was. For all I knew, he was way back down on the first floor. He might not be here at all.
No… No, he's gotta be up here. That makes the most sense.
With any luck, I was right.
Finally feeling a little calm again, I looked around, trying to let my eyes adjust to the darkness, but I must be alone, or someone would have pounced on me by now.
I'd come to a large office, even bigger than the one at Yotsuba, with high ceilings and black floors. Off to the side, a huge desk faced the window, and the room opened up on both ends into smaller offices.
Purple lightning crackled against the inky sky, revealing the silhouette of a man at the desk.
"Well done," a dark voice purred. "I told the boys to herd you this way, but I honestly didn't think you'd make it."
It sounded like Troy. I still remembered his voice, threatening to kill me during our fist fight. I also remembered that he'd attacked Sayu. That made it really hard not to kill him immediately.
He got up, hands in his pockets, body thrown in a cocky stance. "I guess Akki was right about you—you are unpredictable." He moved toward me, lazily, and I gripped my gun all the tighter.
"Where is he?"
"Why's it matter? Do you think you're going to kill him?"
"It's me or him. Just like he wanted."
Troy laughed. "One thing is consistent about you, Matsuda—you're an idiot. Akki was chosen by Kira himself. You can't stop him."
I shuddered, trying to push the pain of my wounds to the furthest corner of my mind, searching past the fear for the rage I needed to end this.
"What do you mean he was chosen?" I wondered, thinking of the notebook and the shinigami again. "He talks to Kira?"
"Kira's been talking with my brother for years. Even when we were children, he used to have prophetic dreams; it was Kira who told him to work for Yotsuba—I suppose he knew he'd reach the top of the corporate ladder in time, but I must admit, I used to have my doubts."
Realizing I wasn't in the mood for a monologue, I scowled. "Sounds like he's just crazy."
"Think what you want. After he kills you and your partners, the NPA will crumble; over time, all of Tokyo will belong to us, and Lord Kira will return to take his rightful place as god."
Imagining Light as the god of anything made me sick.
I raised my gun, trying to remember how many rounds were left in it, but I'd use every last bullet and then tear Toyoshi apart with my bare hands if I had to. "Tell me where he is."
"I think not." He slid his hand out of his pocket, and I saw he had a gun also—a nine mil, black and shiny.
As soon as I saw it, I fired. The bullet zipped through the air and struck him right in the chest. Glass cracked. It flew everywhere like shards of crystal, leaving me staring at…a broken mirror?
Laughter.
I spun around to see him grinning at me, gun aimed for my head. "Idiot. I didn't think a simple trick like that would work. Akki knows you all too well."
"You…" I growled. My hand shook, but I didn't dare move; I was facing the complete wrong direction to fire. Simple trick my ass. "How'd you know I was coming through the window?"
He waved me off, and instead of answering snorted, "Remember? I told you there's safety in number. And you're all alone." He drew closer, gun on me. "In the end, I don't think you were anything special. It must have been a huge mistake, a dumb fuck like you killing Lord Kira."
"You son of a bitch," I spat, helplessly.
"I've been looking forward to this ever since our fight, you know." I could finally see his face and the violence shining in his dark eyes. "Akki wanted to do it himself, but I doubt it matters who kills you as long as you die." A white smile gashed his face, flashing in the lightning outside. "Nice to know you."
A gunshot echoed through the room.
I teetered back.
Oh my God, he shot me! I've been shot! I'm going to die!
I was so angry, part of me was almost relieved this could be over.
Gasping, I stared down at myself, but I wasn't bleeding, and I didn't feel any new shocks of pain. I touched my chest to make sure, but everything was intact. Bewildered, I looked up at Troy again.
He stood stark still, a trickle of blood running from his mouth. Heavily, his gun clattered on the floor.
Dark as a shadow, Aizawa prowled into the room.
"Ai-Aizawa!" I blurted out, and I even rubbed my eyes, hardly believing he was actually there.
His eyebrows had settled low over his burning eyes, his mouth curled in a furious scowl, and his forehead was creased. I saw his nostrils flare and his mouth set, the way it always did when he was trying to keep his temper. He had a rifle slung across his back and his pistol clutched in one hand, not so much as wavering as he circled around Troy kicking his gun away.
"What are you doing here?"
"What am I doing here?" he rumbled. "I came to save your damn life!"
The words shocked me out of my own rage and fear, thrusting me, harshly, back to reality, and I realized I was lucky he'd come. "You must have really been speeding," I murmured.
"No thanks to you."
Stupidly, I watched as he dropped down to see if Troy was alive and put him in handcuffs, grumbling to himself the whole time. I just couldn't believe he'd come after me—plenty of other people would have just been glad I was gone.
Aizawa got up again, glaring into my eyes, silently demanding an explanation.
I licked my lips. "I…wasn't expecting you."
"You should have been, Matsuda."
I'd been so sure I'd never see him again, even his anger was comforting. Rage resting some, terror cooling, my shoulders slumped. "Thanks, Ai."
Abruptly, but not harshly, he grabbed one of my wrists to turn it over and examine the slashes. I felt him shaking. "What happened to you?"
"I got cut coming through the window." I jerked my chin at the broken glass.
"God, Matsuda."
"I know. It was stupid."
Still grumbling to himself and frowning and shaking his head, he took a moment to push my torn sleeve back, trying to see the wounds better though the darkness.
"Think I'll be okay?" I husked.
"Yeah." He glared into my eyes again. "What the hell were you thinking? Did you really think I'd just look the other way when you disappeared?"
I shook my head, fighting the sudden urge to throw my arms around his neck. He wouldn't tolerate that, just like he wouldn't appreciate it if he found out I'd overheard his conversation with Ide and come over here alone to protect him.
When I'd held his gaze a few seconds, though, his expression softened. Lightly patting my shoulder, he scanned the room again, slower than before. "So, where's this fucker at?"
I looked too, but the office looked like it hardly got used, full of designer furniture and clean as a museum exhibit. "Not here, I guess."
Snorting, "Better search the place," he stalked to the other end of the room, heading for one of the smaller offices.
I started after him, but stopped, suddenly feeling like we weren't alone. "Hey, Aizawa, wait…"
He shot a supremely irritated look over his shoulder at me.
"I—"
Another gunshot cut through the silence, and I saw another spray of blood as a bullet ripped through Aizawa's shoulder.
He stumbled back, shouting.
"Aizawa!" I rushed toward him.
A cool voice warned, "Don't even think about it, Touta Matsuda."
From out of the office on the right, he emerged, blowing smoke away from the barrel of his pistol, mouth smiling like he didn't have a care in the world. He was dressed all in white with a red tie, and his skin was creamy pale. With his dark eyes and shadowed sockets, he looked like a ghost.
The ghost pointed his gun at me. It was a higher caliber than either of ours—a 40 gage.
"I'd advise you not to move."
Fists clenched, teeth gritted, I watched Aizawa drop his standard issue to grasp at his wounded shoulder, and blood oozed through his fingers. Gasping out a curse, he dropped on his knees.
Anger in me erupted like a volcano, rushing straight to the surface, where it was hardest to control. "Who are you?" I snarled, body lurching with the urge to rush forward and beat the hell out of him.
The ghost set his haunting gaze on me. "Now really."
"Toyoshi," Aizawa spat.
"The same." Toyoshi strolled past me and approached Troy to crouch next to him. "Well, Kage, I tried to warn you."
Troy, who I'd assumed was unconscious, shuddered on the floor, croaking, "Nii-san…"
"Poor boy," Toyoshi said smoothly. "Someone should have put you out of your misery a long time ago. Perhaps I should even thank Aizawa-san before I kill him."
My body jerked again. He wasn't looking at me now, and I thought about getting to Aizawa. I could try to shoot him. I could try to end this nightmare before it got worse.
In the end, I didn't dare move.
"Nii-san…puh-please…" Troy writhed and heaved a ragged sob. "Help me…"
"Don't you worry, little brother." Toyoshi's smile was as cold as death itself. "I will." He pressed the gun to Troy's head and pulled the trigger.
I jumped.
"You-you shot him," Aizawa stammered, face paling with pain and fear.
The Reaper turned that spine-melting smile on him. "Ah, so did you, Captain."
"You're evil," I breathed.
Toyoshi shrugged at me. "I am all there is—evil and good. Justice. Lord Kira selected me to carry on what he started, to prepare the world for his return, and the rakuen that will follow; but not everyone can enjoy the paradise—none of my colleagues were worthy, not even my brother. None of them deserved to see the second coming, just as you don't. Though, you do have the esteemed privilege of being Lord Kira's blood sacrifice."
I gawped at him. It was a lot of crazy babble, and I felt like I could barely get my tired mind around any of it.
"You're outta your mind," Aizawa sputtered, struggling to get up again, breathing heavily. "If you think killing Matsuda will accomplish anything, you're outta your goddamned mind."
"I suppose…" Toyoshi sighed. "I suppose it would be hard for a heathen to understand. Still, you have to admit it was brilliant the way I worked all this out; all the little details are something only a true artist could appreciate. And it was hard, you know, figuring out who killed Lord Kira. It was only through his divine help that I could even gain this position of power. I suppose he knew what was coming all along. Like the Christ."
The crazy babble didn't matter. Getting out of this alive had suddenly become my new priority, and I shot a look at Aizawa. It would take several steps to reach him, and if I made a move at all, Toyoshi would probably shoot him.
"I did figure it out though." Smiling, he began to circle us, gun aimed, unwavering, at me. "Wouldn't you like to know how I did it?"
I kept mine clenched tightly to my thigh, never taking my eyes off him. "I'm not in the mood for monologues."
"Come on, Matsu," Aizawa muttered. "If we're going to die, we might as well understand why."
Even if it was just to stall for time, I didn't see the point in listening to anything this freak had to say.
"That's right," Toyoshi agreed, stepping in close to kick the pistol away from Aizawa, letting it skitter across the floor. "And anyway, I think you might be interested in hearing your part in the story, my boy."
He snapped his teeth down on the words and smiled viciously at me.
"Let's hear it," Aizawa encouraged, still holding his shoulder. "While I'm conscious."
He was stalling. He must have scraped together a back up force.
"Yes, of course. Forgive my manners. You see, when it was first announced that Lord Kira had died, it was apparent to me that several key details had been excluded, but bribing the media only got me so far—of course, they only knew what L wantedthem to know. My old friend, Ken Oshima, though, was more than willing to aid my cause when the director denied my request for information. He even allowed me to see the official report you submitted, Captain." He snatched the rifle from Aizawa's shoulder, slinging it, carelessly across the room.
"Good thing I didn't put anything important in that report," Aizawa goaded, but his face was growing paler, scrunched up in a pained wince.
I thought about asking Toyoshi to let me look at the wound. I even thought, maybe, he'd let Aizawa live if I agreed to go with him.
Where was back up?
"No, you were thorough." Toyoshi patted Ai on the head like an obedient dog. "The only thing of value I managed to learn from that was the names of the men on the task force. I must admit…" He licked his white teeth. "I did consider killing all four of you, but…" His dead-eyed gaze flicked up to settle on me again, and my stomach dropped at the sight of all his insanity and hate. "I wanted the pleasure of punishing Kira's murderer in person."
For a little while, he stayed silent, seeming to drift into his own world, and meanwhile, I made eye contact with Aizawa, finding him already staring at me; he jerked his chin at the gun in my hand.
I clutched it tighter.
"Misa Amane," Toyoshi began again, in a reverent tone, "was some help also. She at least gave me the alias of Taro Matsui, which was something I could use."
"What did you do to Amane?" Aizawa demanded.
"We only spoke—briefly."
Even to think of this creep talking to Misa-Misa, touching her, prying, made my blood boil.
"Oshima remembered that she had been brought in once for allegations of being a sort of second Kira, so I knew she had connections with you all."
Carelessly, Toyoshi bent down to frisk Aizawa for any other weapons.
It gave me a clear shot. Aizawa mouthed the words, do it. It was lucky Toyoshi was so crazy and careless—he didn't seem worried about the gun in my hand at all—but I hesitated, worried about accidentally hurting Ai, and Toyoshi stood up again and leveled his aim back on me. "You know, though, that girl was such a mess, I didn't have to do anything to her. A shame. She dearly loved Lord Kira, didn't she?" With the muzzle, he set a furious gaze on me. "Her blood is on your hands as well. She told me how tactless you were in delivering the news of her fiancé's death."
I sucked in a sharp breath.
"Outside of that, she didn't have much to say about you other than you're an idiot—which is true, I'd imagine—and that she doubted you'd have the guts or prowess to kill anyone. In fact, she, like so many others, seemed to believe it was you who shot Lord Kira, Captain."
"What if I told you no one killed Kira?" Aizawa asked calmly, but with barely concealed panic. "What if I told you it was a shinigami?"
"Aizawa," I gasped.
But a rumble of chilly laughter rolled through the room, and Toyoshi stumbled back, as if he could hardly stand.
Anxiously, I watched the barrel of his gun drop a good seven centimeters.
"Fantasies won't save you, Captain," he cried cheerfully. "I never would have expected this nitwit to be the man who murdered Lord Kira, not even in the beginning, but nonetheless… He has led you to your doom! If I were you, I'd be happy to see him dead."
"Yeah, you obviously don't understand loyalty," Aizawa growled, and he glared at me, glancing meaningfully at the gun in my hand. He probably could have taken the shot five times by now.
"Oh, Captain," Toyoshi laughed, dabbing at his eyes. "You're only saying that because you failed. You failed to keep this half-wit under control, and you failed to fully grasp who you're dealing with—the wealth I possess, the connections that have helped me, even having my brother's gang at my disposal; you may have speculated on some of it, but the half-cocked way you've been letting this idiot run about, and your own reckless tendency to jump the gun has kept you from reaching any true understanding about the position you're in."
Inevitably, I looked at Aizawa. I guess Atashi Rei's warning that he didn't understand who he was dealing with had been more than an idle threat after all.
"You're almost as stupid and reckless as Matsuda, though nowhere near as entertaining."
"Just get on with the story," Aizawa grumbled. From the way he kept looking at me, I knew no back up was coming—he was waiting, I realized, for me to do something.
I couldn't, though. There was just no way.
"Well, when I first planted the Taro Matsui ID, I meant only to flush you out. It worked beautifully. My spies reported that Captain Aizawa himself investigated that scene—the prime suspect in the death of Lord Kira."
At that, Aizawa's eyes clouded over, like they sometimes did when he thought he'd made a mistake, and his voice finally wavered. "Y-you made a mistake about me too, though…"
"Quite right." Toyoshi waved him off. "But it's nothing compared to the mistakes the two of you have made." His poisonous eyes found me again. "Especially you. I'll admit, you have a foolish reactionary for a captain, but everything you've done, from dropping your wallet at the home of my forger, to killing Hiro Miyami, has worked out in my favor. I know what kind of man you are now, Matsuda."
My blood turned to slush. Aizawa had been right all along about playing it cool and staying on the sidelines. For all I knew, if I'd listened, Toyoshi never would have gotten so far and done so much damage.
"That's right," he hissed. "Your self-destruction has been spectacular, but you're a dangerous man—unpredictable and reckless. It's almost criminal. In a way, I'll admit, I've grown fond of you, and I shall truly cherish our last hours together, nearly as much as I will your agonized screams."
"S-so just kill me," I snapped, barely able to take any more, thinking seriously of throwing my gun down just to get it over with. "That's what you want."
Toyoshi clicked his tongue. "Not quite. You have to suffer first, and so, for now, say goodbye to your dear captain." Deliberately, he pressed his gun to the back of Aizawa's skull.
Horror clamped my guts like a steel vice, and I watched Aizawa's face stretch with terror.
"Wait!" I lurched forward a step, but I didn't dare do anything. "I'm the one you want! Do whatever you want with me, just don't kill him!"
"Matsuda," Aizawa growled, faintly, "don't you dare drop that pistol."
I nearly had. I still might. "Please," I begged. "Don't punish him for my mistake!"
"You… Kira must have despised you," Toyoshi laughed. "Why don't you shoot me? You're a good shot. Well, there is some risk, though, of hitting him, judging by the way you're shaking. And you are a coward." His eyes gleamed with malice. "Maybe you'll find your rage when he lies bleeding at my feet."
"You can't! He didn't do anything—he has a family—don't!" Turning ragged, my voice gave way into sobs. "Please! I'm begging you! Don't do it!"
Toyoshi sighed. "What a shame. I get to have a showdown with the whiny child after all." He nudged Aizawa with the gun. "Last words, Captain?"
A little longer than blinking, Aizawa shut his eyes, and his face looked white like the moon in the darkness. Through clenched teeth, he croaked. "Remember what you promised, Matsu…? You promised…"
I did promise to take care of his family, but I hadn't thought it would come to this. I had thought I could protect him. How dumb, thinking I could protect anyone; I'd gotten him killed. And now, even if I murdered Toyoshi for it and escaped, it would be at the expense of Aizawa's life.
"I'm so sorry," I husked. "I'm so, so sorry about Light, and Yoko and the others. Ide and Mogi… Aizawa, I'm so—"
"I don't care about that," Aizawa cut in, brusque but quiet. "Just…keep your promises, Matsuda." His eyes opened again, hard as polished stone and burning with silent fury, sucking me back to the moment he'd laid his hand on my shoulder, voice snarling, promise me…blow his fucking head off…
And the lingering, unsaid condition—no matter what it takes.
Toyoshi chuckled. "Charming. But in twenty-four hours, Matsuda will be a bleeding shell. A vessel for the spirit of Kira." He cocked the gun.
Screaming, I lifted my pistol, high, even though I knew it would cost Aizawa's life.
Eyes widening with surprise, Toyoshi fumbled to wheel on me—he didn't know what he was doing with the 40.
A shot rang out, but the bullet whistled past my head. Aizawa lunged at him, delivering a curt karate chop to his wrist and knocking the gun from his hand.
I squeezed the trigger.
With a cry of pain, Toyoshi stumbled back, clutching his chest.
While Aizawa scrambled to retrieve the 40, I stormed toward the Reaper, biting off every word. "You made the mistake. You underestimated me."
Wheezing, he grasped the front of his suit.
Automatically, I kicked him in the side. It felt so good, I had to do it again, and then again. Before I knew it, I was kicking him over and over. I dropped down on top of him, punching his face until his nose broke and his teeth shattered. "You evil bastard! You monster! Kira hated everything—he would have hated you! You killed them for nothing! All for nothing!"
Feebly, he writhed beneath me, struggling to shield his face.
I would cave his head in.
"Touta!" Aizawa screamed, jerking me back and hauling me to my feet. "Touta, stop!"
Furiously, I clawed at him, still swinging for Toyoshi. "He doesn't deserve to live! Think about it, Aizawa! Think about it!"
Tightly, he jerked me against the crook of his neck, where I got a full breath of his cologne and aftershave. Even wounded, he was strong—so much stronger than I could ever be.
Next to my ear, he whispered, "I am. I'm thinking how much you'll hate yourself if you beat him to death."
Still, my bruised fists trembled at my sides. I realized I'd dropped my pistol. "It's too much," I gasped, barely able to keep from breaking down as I thought about how close I'd come to losing him. "It's too much!"
"I know." He squeezed the back of my neck. "But it's over."
Gradually, I sank against him and let my head rest on his shoulder, trying to believe that was true.
"It's okay," he murmured. "It's over."
Behind me, another peal of feeble but deranged laughter split the silence, and then Aizawa let me go to aim his gun again, voice booming despite how sick and weak he looked up close. "Did you hear me? It's over—you're under arrest!"
I turned to face him, but the Reaper sat up on his knees, suit torn open, fingers caressing the place I'd shot, where I saw the dull gleam of a bulletproof vest.
My heart sank. No wonder he hadn't been concerned about my gun.
Slinging his long hair around, he turned to us, eyes rolling with insanity, teeth missing, blood streaming down his face. "You're lucky, Captain," he hissed. "Your children will live to see Lord Kira's paradise."
Suddenly, he sprang up and rushed us.
Aizawa fired. The 40 should have knocked Toyoshi on his ass; he must have missed.
Instinctively, I shoved against him, thrusting him away. His voice yelled my name, just as the Reaper flung himself against me.
Together, we slammed into the window I'd broken through. Pain lanced through my skull, and sparkling glass scattered around me like confetti. I felt the floor slip out from under my feet, and frigid wind rushed through my clothes as I fell, fell, fell. Into the dark abyss of the city.