Boomerang
"We've got about twenty minutes until the train gets here," Sayu said after a huff and a glance at the map and timetable. "Phew! I thought we'd be cutting it closer!"
Near just clutched the straps on his bag and glanced around the crowded space. He could not speak because he was nearly out of breath from panic and the brisk walking pace she had set.
He did not get much exercise from keeping to his rooms and workspace, after all.
"I saw some gashapon outside. Mind if I check them out while we wait?" Sayu asked as if she did not even need a rest after all that activity.
"Some what?" Near asked.
He could not follow her words when his head was still spinning from the breakneck pace the whole night had taken on. They had left the Yagami house after Sachiko gave Near leftovers for dinner, and the long walk to the trains, the stop at his hotel, and more walking to this train station had exhausted him. If he did not manage to sleep on the plane, he might just die.
"Gashapon. Umm, they call them capsule toys or blind box toys on the internet," she said the words in heavily accented English, sounding unsure of herself.
The mention of toys jarred him out of endless rumination on all the ways that his travel could still go wrong from here. He had lost money paying fees to change his flight, cancelling his hotel reservation, and then buying Sayu's ticket as well. Their flight had two stops between here and home, and the prospect of so much time in unfamiliar confined spaces with other people almost made him queasy. His much-diminished bank account gave him no comfort in light of the upcoming changes at Wammy House either.
Yes, he would much rather think about toys right now.
"I will come with you," he said, turning from the sight of the crowded platform at night.
"All right. I forget you aren't Japanese," Sayu said with a glance over her shoulder. "Your words are more formal, that's all."
"I have not had much opportunity to practice," Near replied, though he would have spoken just as politely in English.
"Did… did my brother use English, then?"
"Most of the time. We practiced French and Italian as well," Near said.
He had been trying all evening to give both Sayu and her mother the crumbs of information they wanted about Light. The little details they asked for, unlike Light's location, were not worth protecting, and he felt he owed them for his sudden appearance and the bad news.
Sayu made a confusing expression as she led Near back up the steps to a bank of machines. They were mostly toy-dispensing machines with a few charms and stickers. Did parents often need to pacify their children with these before boarding the trains?
Sayu fed coins into one as if she had been carrying the change for that very purpose. He had thought they were only coming to look at them. As he shifted from foot to foot to ease his tired legs, Sayu twisted a gear noisily and then knelt after something thunked into the bottom of the machine.
"See? Capsule," she said, letting him have a look at the ball emblazoned with cartoon robots and girls in metal bikinis.
Near could make no sense of children's toys here.
Sayu ripped the plastic off and popped the plastic case open, then she sighed when the halves fell apart to reveal a diminutive but perfect robot. This was no mere toy, surely. It was much too detailed. Near wondered how many points of articulation it had.
"Is it broken?" he asked.
"No, but it's not gold. One of my friends will buy a gold one, so if I have change, I try for one. They're really rare."
Sayu shrugged with no shame at all as she slipped it into her purse. This was nothing like his past experiences with toys in public.
"What do you do with it?" Near asked.
"I have a couple in the newspaper clubroom at school, and I've given a few to my classmates," Sayu replied as she checked her watch.
Near dug into his bag and produced plenty of change given how much he preferred untraceable cash to using a card. They had a few minutes, and surely she would not laugh at him for buying a toy when she had just done so. He itched to hold onto something amidst all this turmoil.
He chose the same machine she had, then he fought off the protective plastic so he could pry the halves apart.
"I don't believe it," Sayu said.
The overhead lights made it almost painful to look at without his glasses. Near's toy was more humanoid than Sayu's, and the gold finish made it look like real metal, not like cheap painted plastic.
"What are the odds there's another in there?" Sayu groused, squatting to stare into the machine.
Near smiled at the robot resting in his hands, feeling something like happiness wash over him for a moment. The toy was splendid, smaller yet finer than the ones he had bought back at home. He longed to have a moment to test out its joints, but the train was coming to bear them to the next part of this trip. If nothing else, he could carry it along with his train ticket…
"Would you like it?" he asked, holding it out to Sayu with both hands.
She turned her head to look at him, and her eyebrows shot up.
"Are you kidding? Do you know how much that sells for?"
"I know no one who would pay me for it. I would trade it for yours," Near said.
Sayu stood and took out the toy that she had so casually pocketed, and Near packed the gold one back into its case before handing it to her.
"Thanks a lot, Nasanyu-san. I'm going to tell my friend so he doesn't buy it from someone else while we're gone," Sayu said.
"Go ahead," Near said.
When Sayu turned to send a quick text, Near studied the toy that he had gotten in return. The painting was exquisite, not the careless blobs that he disliked on so many of the miniature toys he ordered online. He bent the joints to see how well they moved and imagined how it would fit in with the rest of his collection. It was small enough he could easily put it on his tray table on the plane.
He kept it clutched in his hand where no one could see it while they swiped through the turnstiles and waited in silence on the platform. He ran his thumb over the detailed surfaces to distract him from the lines before they checked in at the airport. He relinquished it when they passed through security, but he kept it with him again after that.
Perhaps the toy made the rest of the travel bearable, for the trip back did not rattle him as badly it had that morning.
Sayu swapped seats with the man next to Near on the plane, and she did it so casually, as if it was nothing to ask for a favor from a stranger. She then gave Near some of the snacks that Sachiko had packed for her once the plane was airborne. Much like the leftover tuna, pickled vegetables, and soup Sachiko had made him for dinner, the onigiri with sesame seeds and plum were unlike anything Near had eaten before. He was not a picky eater, content to eat whatever the cooks at Wammy House made, but the oddness of the food intrigued him more than it put him off.
More intriguing was Sayu and Sachiko's generosity toward a total stranger, especially one that bore bad news. His upbringing had left him ill-suited to anticipate or reciprocate their gestures.
Sayu was nervous, for she often checked a photo in her wallet too quickly for Near to see it, and she drummed her fingers against her arm while staring out the dark window. Near had no idea what to do or say that would put her at ease, but for the first time, he was aware of that failing. It was not until she fell asleep that she looked truly relaxed, but even asleep, Near found her presence reassuring.
Between her and his newfound toy, his head was clear enough to ponder the next steps in this process, like how he was going tell her about Light's false name at the hospital. He needed to figure out what aspects of Light's working or living arrangements she should know and which they could conceal.
Near had not even wanted this responsibility a few hours ago. He had planned to stay in Japan for a few days and keep to himself because nothing good awaited him back in England now.
L would be furious with Near for exposing Wammy House or even L's failings indirectly. The strain might poison their already-distant working relationship.
And Light would probably refuse to see him again.
Back when Matt had dropped Near off at Heathrow, he had asked, "Why do you think it has to be you?"
"Light cannot hurt me like he can you or Ryuzaki," Near replied, his hands wrapped around the straps on his pack. No tells.
Matt turned to stare out the windscreen, his mouth tightening in response.
"Good luck," he said, meeting Near's gaze through his goggles before he pulled away.
It was only a month ago that Light had taken Near through the busy streets of his own city, somewhere Near had not voluntarily gone for ten years. Light's unflappable calm amidst so many people and so many random events let Near tolerate and later enjoy the atmosphere. It helped Near so much to have a companion that did not strand him to figure things out on his own. The city streets that intimidated Near for so many years were perhaps not that terrifying in good company.
The scenery had greatly changed in the last twenty-four hours, and the stakes were so much higher than a mere night out. However, somehow one of the Yagami siblings was with him again to share the burden.
Near opened his palm to reveal the robot he had so badly wanted. With a fond smile, he tucked it carefully into a pocket on his bag.
After a glance at Sayu, he closed his eyes so he could get that much-needed sleep.
L did not return within a few hours.
Had Light imagined his gesture as he left? Surely not. Nothing L did was an accident.
Light twisted around without putting too much strain on the stitches in his neck, hoping that somehow he had missed the sight of a clock on the wall or on one of the monitors near his bed. How long ago had L visited him? Two hours? Four? He had been given his "lunch" so it was probably three or more.
If Near only landed three hours before L's arrival, and at least three hours had passed since then, could Near conceivably be back in the air already? How quickly could Near give the news and his family respond the way Light feared? Light had looked up the cost of the tickets L had so casually bought him, and that was well out of his family's ability to afford on short notice. That would buy him some more time if they had to wait a few days for cheaper flights or deal with multiple stops.
Light's flight from Tokyo International had been almost fourteen hours, and with two hours to check in, another hour or so to get off the plane and through customs, and at least another hour by car… That was eighteen hours for travel if the flight was non-stop, so that was the absolute minimum amount of time he had to work with if he assumed they were already boarding a plane.
He had at least two counseling sessions a day, but he had missed this morning's because Dr. Martin, his usual counselor, had arrived as L was getting thrown out. The new bleeding and Light's "agitated state" after L broke the news of Near's treachery was apparently more important than Light's twice-daily interrogations.
Eighteen hours left him only two more scheduled counseling sessions to convince them he was safe to discharge, at least so far as his mental state was concerned. Could he get a third or more if he asked for it? Could he ask for it at all?
What if he refused any further inpatient treatment and demanded to leave? No, that would definitely not win their approval; it would make it more likely that he was transferred to the psychiatric wing if he willingly endangered his life. His arm was clearly infected, and if the test results showed it was MRSA, he could be signing up for blood poisoning or necrotizing fasciitis or a slow wretched death from organ failure.
Light had wanted a quick death, not one drawn out over months of suffering. He had not lied to Matt; he was not sure what he wanted anymore, but it wasn't a lot of senseless agony.
If Light was going to be given all this time to think, he was going to use all that training L had tried to cram into his head. Had he been in the same apathetic state he was in while he worked at the NPA, he might have given up and waited for whatever was coming. He had L to thank for getting him out of that rut, at least.
Without L to help him in person, this was the best he could do.
He looked over at the guard, or more likely intern, who was assigned to watch him from outside the room now.
"Could I see Dr. Martin?" he asked, raising his voice because he still could not push the call button for the nurse.
Time to put that counterintelligence and interrogation training to the test. Light had practiced with someone a lot more savage than a hospital psychologist.
L came awake facedown on his bed, not his sofa. He had not slept here for what felt like weeks. For a moment, he was unsure where he was when it was so dark.
Dark?!
He groped for his phone to check the time, but it was nowhere within reach. There was no mistaking the fact that too little light crept around the edges of his heavy drapes.
L clambered awkwardly off his bed and shoved the drapes apart, wincing when a riot of muscle aches protested the movement after so many days of inactivity. Through the privacy film that kept his bedroom windows mostly impenetrable, the grounds outside gathered shadows in twilight. His shower-wet hair was dry too, so it had been hours. Hours! He had meant to sleep for thirty minutes. Had the days of endless insomnia and self-recrimination taxed his body too much to respond to his alarm?
The ache on his wrist finally registered for what it was, and he squinted at Wammy's watch, hanging heavily on his bony wrist.
Eight o'clock. Light's visiting hours were definitely over.
He had been unconscious almost eight hours after showering and forcing himself to eat the same lunch as the Wammy House students. Nothing about salad and soup appealed to him, but it was available when time was of the essence. He had even eaten in the kitchen rather than wasting time making a tray. In his deplorable state, the meal was probably healthier than a bowl of sugar cubes. He also would not sleep if he just ate sugar to feel better.
Now that he had gotten more than enough sleep after a drought, he needed sugar and caffeine right now. He ripped the first clothes that he could reach off the hangers in his closet. He found his traitorous phone charging in his sitting room and started dialing before he even got his other arm through his shirt sleeve. It was still ringing when he locked his door and strode down the hall toward the kitchen.
L had lost a lot of time, and he needed to work fast while still making sure that he was doing the right thing.
"Matt? Are you busy?" he asked without preamble as soon as Matt picked up the phone.
"Nothing important," Matt said, and the music that had been playing abruptly shut off. "What's going on?"
"Find Near. I need to know if he's airborne and how soon I can reach him if he is. Also look for flights to see if any of Light's family have purchased tickets." L gave their names. "Are you in your workshop?"
"Yeah. I've got what I need here. So, what's going on?" Matt asked again.
"Not yet. I need to see what pieces are available first."
"Is this about Light?"
L raked a hand back through his hair to get it out of his face when he reached the kitchen. He did not normally discuss his reasons with Matt if he needed work done, but this was a special case. L would be a fool to ignore Matt's familiarity with Light when it was Light's health at risk. L had tried to do this alone and failed once already.
"Yes. He asked for help."
Matt whooped. That had to be the noise that made L jerk the phone even further away from his ear than it already was.
"I'll call you when I find anything!" Matt said.
L disconnected and called a different number immediately. He tugged tea out of the cupboard and tried to get a pot started with only one hand.
"L? It's been weeks. I was starting to th—"
L interrupted Aiber before the older man could waste his time with mock-pleasantries. L was already testy without caffeine, and the man was too chatty sometimes. He also always used L's name, which annoyed L to no end.
"What does your schedule look like for the next seven days?" L asked over Aiber's greeting.
Aiber chuckled on the other end of the line rather than answering. L could almost hear him sauntering around his balcony with the faint noise of traffic in the background, but Aiber did love his theatrics. The clink of ice cubes ringing lightly against glass let L know his guess as to Aiber's location was at least close.
"I might have a job in two days, but I'll put if off if you need me. Do you need me in person?" Aiber said, apparently deciding not to play with L this time.
"Possibly. If I contact you, it will be for hospital infiltration, and it will be short notice, perhaps twenty-four hours."
"I'll brush up on my medical vocabulary, then. You still in Winchester?" At L's affirmative noise, he continued briskly, all business now. "I'll clear my schedule and tell the missus."
L was just about to hang up. Aiber might even have expected it given the pause after his words.
"Thank you, Aiber," L said.
"Uh, you're welcome," Aiber replied.
"Bye."
Aiber was laughing when L hung up.
Light would be so proud of him, L thought.
He plugged in the kettle and slouched against the counter while he dialed Wedy's number next.
It was almost midnight before Soichiro came to the front door, and he stopped dead in his tracks when he heard piano music.
Sachiko did not normally wait up for him after ten, and Sayu had quit piano as soon as they stopped making her take lessons. Could it be Light?
He discarded his shoes and forwent his house slippers to get around the corner to the living room sooner. Of course, it was Sachiko with her back to the door, not his son at all.
He let out a sigh and slumped a little against the doorframe. It was completely irrational, but he hoped maybe the silence on Light's end was because he was traveling. He could always hope that was the case. He had tried dialing L's old numbers, but they were all disconnected, as they always were, and Light always called from blocked numbers. Light had left them with no way to initiate contact outside email, which he had gotten slower and slower to answer.
"Is Sayu asleep?" he asked, curious why his wife was playing if the upstairs was so quiet.
Sachiko shook her head. When she turned around, the bottom dropped out of his stomach. Her eyes were red, almost puffy with tears. She wasn't crying now but she had been for some time.
He took a deep breath and let it out. It was just like coming upon a crime scene. He had to get the emotions out of the way right now so he could do his job, even if that job was being a father or husband.
"What's happened?" he asked, reaching out a hand to her. "Where's Sayu?"
"Light is hospitalized."
He let the hand come to rest on her shoulder without conscious thought. As if it was someone else speaking, he heard his voice.
"Where is he?"
"England. Someone from his work came to tell us, and Sayu left with him a few hours ago."
"To England?" Soichiro repeated numbly.
The place meant nothing to him, but L…? Soichiro had trusted the man with his son. He had trusted Light with his person. Was it just an accident or illness, or had Light finally done what they had all feared?
"I know," she said with a sick little laugh. "I asked why I let her go with him, but she wanted to go to Light. Light's coworker was sincere. I had no reason to doubt him, and I watched him buy their tickets here. She's safe enough on public transportation."
"Coworker," Soichiro said, still trying to figure out where things had gone so very wrong. "Dark haired, dark-eyed young man in his late twenties or early thirties?"
"It wasn't Ryuzaki." Of course. Soichiro forgot that L-as-Ryuzaki had visited the house when Light had that cold for days and Soichiro was at work. "This one was named Nathaniel, and he was short, pale, and perhaps only twenty. He was very shy, like he didn't get out often," Sachiko said.
"I don't know him, but Ryuzaki could have plenty of cohorts I don't know about," he said.
He had let Sachiko think that Ryuzaki was just a savvy independent investigator and contractor that the NPA and other international agencies worked with from time to time. It was illustrious enough that she could share Soichiro's optimism about Light's prospects. After so many years of being a wife to someone in the intelligence field, she had not asked for more than that.
"Did he say why Light was in the hospital?" Soichiro asked.
Sachiko shook her head. "He said Light had contracted an infection while he was already there."
Soichiro opened his mouth, but no words would come for some time.
"I'm sorry, Sachiko," Soichiro said. "I… made a mistake."
He did not know what to do from here. Without keeping Light under constant supervision, how could they have prevented this?
More important, how could they keep it from happening again? That prideful, independent son of his had isolated himself so they could not see his slow deterioration, and he had rejected help over and over.
"Sayu will call us when she lands in England, but they have several long flights," Sachiko continued, but it was hard for Soichiro to pay attention.
It felt like he was fighting a battle no one could win. Was this how parents of addicts or petty criminals felt? Was there nothing he could do so long as Light did nothing that would cause his long-term incarceration or hospitalization?
Light was such a perfect son; he did not do anything that would warrant such scrutiny, and yet nothing Soichiro had done had helped.
"Stop," Sachiko said. "Stop whatever you're doing."
Soichiro swam up out of that morass at Sachiko's words. She had gripped his sleeves without him noticing, and she shook him to get his attention.
"This isn't the time. I've already written to cancel our cable and downgrade our internet."
Soichiro shook his head to clear it. "You've what?"
"I cancelled the paper and magazines too to free up some money. I finally put up Mother's jewelry and those," she mock-shuddered, "horrible paintings for auction. I might list this piano again or figure out more in the next few days, but plane tickets over the weekend are impossible. Now solve that case or pass it off to Aizawa-san. You're overdue for vacation."
She sounded brisk and casual, but Soichiro could see the edges cracking around her scowl.
He pulled her into his arms and rested his chin on her head.
"You thought of everything. I'll talk to the team on Monday, and I'll help you figure out where else we can cut corners tomorrow."
That must have been the right response, for she hugged him in return. He had no idea what he could do in a foreign country when Light was an adult and could do what he wanted.
However, if Light had tried something and been thwarted, maybe it would scare him into changing. That was the only long-term good he could see coming of this.
A/N – I spent half of last week rereading this story, trying fill in the gaps in my notes. There is nothing so painful and embarrassing as reading your own old writing that's out there for everyone to see, but it got me to here, so…?
These strange times of isolation and telework are the perfect time to finish a book!
Also during our copious free time, I convinced the hubs to watch that live-action Death Note TV drama from 2015, and it's amazing. I had my doubts, and I haven't watched the final episode yet, but it's like a shot of adrenaline to my Muses.
Gotta get back to writing!