Clamours of fright wracked inside of Watari like water against rocks. Hands shook as he drove far and fast from the nightmarish man and fought to take hold of his cellphone. Silently he berated himself for being so shaken, and foolish if he had hinted any knowledge of recognising the Hallow symbol and what it presaged.
A family heirloom he had said.
A family of darkness and bloodshed.
Unaware of the person in the backseat.
.
Light waited until the Wraith had turned a corner to ask Death what he was said to make Watari look so spooked - when a chilled gust lapped his ankles. Without having to look, Light knew Harry had gone.
.
Tired as he was, L worked late into the night and early into morning. Kira's victims multiplied by the hour leaving no room for rest. Increased concern and pressure from all regions of the world chorused his direction. Demanding. Annoying.
Immersed, L lightly cursed the phone crying attention. After a moments of scouring through bedsheets and under pillows, he located the aggravating device and hoarsely spoke a 'harrumph?'
Through the line, words fluttered through:
"One of the Hallow men. He's here. Light brought him. I fear we may be compromised."
L looked up to the window opposite overlooking Japan's skyline as though any moment now a threat would zip line into view. Fingers stilled over his keyboard.
"Are you certain?" L was never one to second-guess Watari's words, however on such a sensitive matter as this it was never bad to be thorough. And L was ever so thorough. "Did the man say he was?"
"He didn't have to," graved Watari. In the background L heard the noise of speeding traffic. "The pendant he wore said enough. He also caution me of future heart attacks. Could simply be friendly concern, however in our line of work such random flukes hardly turn out to be innocent."
Fire lit inside of L. "Do we have a location to deploy our men?"
"He's - - - " white static shrieked into L's ear canal.
"Gah!" Call cut off, ear ringing, L began texting a coded message asking about Watari's security and state. He almost sent it off - then L became aware of how cold the room had gotten. How dark. How the primal, hair raising instincts embedded into DNA jolted awake. Only the flickering screen of his laptop and dim lights of nearby buildings kept L's sight alive.
Lightning, pure and louder than war drums hit earth like a nuclear explosion. White light seared L's vision and he couldn't help but blink away the snow. He looked again and flinched back in bed. Back hitting the bedpost and laptop collapsing to its side. Fluorescent glare spotlighting the dark figure in the skyline.
"Detective," the man spoke. Smile all teeth. "I hear you've been looking for me."
.
"Don't worry, I'm not here to kill you." Harry assured and sat on the edge of L's bed. Leaving a mysterious absent dip. Thoughtfully, nipping at his thumb, the Detective stared. Mind loud and quick as it worked its ways over Harry's method and trickery in his appearance.
"No one just breaks into a person's room, sits on their bed and claims to have pure intentions."
"Fair point."
Fixed into a crouch, L cautioned Watari's imminent arrival. Likely not a lonesome one.
"Sorry," Harry said, deeply amused, "your guardian won't be joining us this evening." Nobody other than the divine could have ever noticed the way this news hit L. Harry felt no reason to assure the man that Watari was simply parked on the side of the highway, fast asleep in no doubt the best dream he will never remember along with the proceedings previous. Having said that, Harry collected the forgotten laptop and plopped it on his lap. Content to sroll through Kira casework and the Hollows until L struck up the nerve to speak.
Outside rain befell a slight sprinkle. Pittering the window in soft patters. Submerged in unearthly silence, Harry read L's work.
L sat. Prone with thought.
Finally, L stated, with the knowledge and weight of a man thrice his age, "You're a Hallow."
"Yes. I'm curious," Harry looked up to meet L's eyes. There was no future in them, the death L had once been assigned was no longer present. Most appealing. "How did you come by that name? It's not noted down in the files."
"Quid pro quo," L said. Black eyes, for all it's lost future, hid a fire. "Answer for an answer."
"How will you know if I'm telling the truth?" Harry teased and shut the laptop. Killing what little light was left. Only his silhouette against the city proved he was still there. "You didn't even know I was coming here tonight."
"Is Watari alive?"
The Detective had a soft side. Delighted, Harry alluded, "That," he said, "depends entirely on your honesty. Who told you about the Hallows?"
Following a few moments of rigid reservation, L answers. "An old associate told me. I didn't believe him at first. Out of curiosity I started to look," ill in mind, L adds, "Not soon after a body was left for me with my name burned into it, your handiwork?"
"Hope you liked it," Harry says airily. L's work was impeccable. Admirable. Squinting, he peeks behind the curtains of L's thoughts and searched for that old associate. Suspicions soon confirming it was none other than, B Beyond.
His predecessor's failure. Still alive.
Brother.
"What is your relationship with the boy, Yagami Light?"
Harry thought about it. "We share a bond."
"A bond," L drawled.
"Soul contract if I'm being honest," Harry twirled his hand. Spidery fingers shivered to life a lighter. Twitch of a finger it sparked yellow flame. Sharp aristocratic lineaments hollowing like a skull from the catacombs. L tensed as the hand stretched long towards him. Taut, L's hand slithered under his pillow. Fingers scraped for a loaded pistol. He blinked as the light swerved toward a candelabra on his bedside table. It burst alight. The lighter switched shut and disappeared in the single most exemplary show of slight of hand L had ever witnessed.
Funnily enough, L found the candelabra more alarming. Just over a week he had stayed in this room. No such candelabra had been with. him.
Harry, bent back and asked what L's assumptions were on the Hallow case.
"Some cult."
"Come now," he jeers, "I know you can do better than that."
"A deranged cult," L bares. Peripheral sore from the inexplicable candelabra. "Made up of deranged, troubled individuals seeking answers in Death. And you're their megalomaniac leader."
Harry bursts into such sudden rumbustious laughter, L couldn't have hoped to confine the flinch. Just as sudden, the laughter ceases.
"Fast catch," he peered at the man, cooing. "Well, now. That is interesting, you figured it out much quicker than I thought." He suddenly stopped laughing and scratched his chin with the gun's muzzle. "So you know I'm the the bandwagon's Chief of death, and yet you're relatively calm. Why is that?"
"You told sme," L said, tone dryer than the Sahara, "you weren't here for any murderous intention."
"Believe me, did you?"
"I trust the evidence. You haven't killed me yet. Point A."
Harry bore his hands. L noted the lighter had mysteriously vanished.
"I'm here for a friendly offering of peace."
Falsely willing, L listens.
"Next time we meet, and I can assure you we certainly will, do blind yourself to Light and I's intimate entanglement. In return for your corporation I won't kill you. But I won't give your Watari the same courtesy," Impertinently, behind a hush-hush hand he whispers, "or your little friends back in the orphanage. What is your successors name again? Near? Mello? Matt?"
And just like that, the great detective wavers.
"So if you say a word about this, I'll sever their heads and play with their entrails." Harry sweeps a hand in gesture, "Do with this what you will," stood, and back-steps into the shadows lightning fails to gleam into. White teeth grins a goodbye. "Go about your Kira business, stuff yourself with strawberry cake and do have a lovely, lovely night L." From the corners of L's pitch room, Harry's voice wished him; "Sweet dreams."
.
L sits in the silence of the storm outside for one, long second before leaping off the bed and rushing to the shadow. Hands hit solid wall.
"No!" He shouts and shoves back a lamp in his track to source the Hollow man's retreat. Five, ten minutes pass. Desks are pulled from walls. Sofas, the tv, L sat on the floor, staring at the mysterious solid walls. Outside bore a 50 metre drop to hard cement.
The only evidence of the Hollow man was his laptop at the foot of his bed and the hatred in his soul.
And L began to laugh.
"Okay, Hollow. You got my attention," he spoke. Darkness curdled and grumbled in scrutiny. Whites of L's eyes sunk below his bellowing pupils, "go about your day to day business. I'll ignore the murdering and butchery - because one way or another I will arrest you. Be it for petty theft, breaking and entering or a fine for civil unrest. I'll get you. When you least expect it I'll get you. You and that lackey, Yagami Light."
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