Author:Catlover51
Genre: Adventure/Drama, Romance Humor, Angst, AU
Chapter Summary:
As Kira lays his trapping web, L does too. Meanwhile, Near and Matt have their much-needed talk.
Warnings: Mild Descriptions of Violence and Teenage Smoking.
Disclaimer: I do not own Death Note!
Notes:
Who me? Posting a new chapter, again? It's more likely than you think.
There was a well-dressed young man that stood alone in a humid and damp cell, fist clenched and brows furrowed, his mouth opened and closed noiselessly. The firm stone walls that surrounded him appeared to crack at the sharp sting of anger and disbelief that radiated off him in intense waves.
Light nudged the drooping left arm of the body that lay on the small cot that was placed on the dirty stone ground with the tip of his dress shoes. For once his mind was completely blanked and stunted. There were few times in his life that he had been in a situation that truly shocked him. He hated that this moment was going to be established in his mind as one of them.
Just moments ago, the body was still wide awake and very alert to what kind of danger it was in. Light was just about to achieve his victory. With that knowledge, his blood had thrived through his veins, and his hand was on the cusp of lifting that abominable mask to pull it away. Yet, the stupid rebel decided to stupidly scream himself to unconsciousness; his ears were still ringing because of that. He could still do it, Light thought to himself. But he knew that the feeling wouldn't be the same.
Light would not be able to see his enemy's fear and tantalizing struggle as he slowly revealed their face.
"Damn it." The tyrant cursed spitefully at the limp body that was inhabited by one of his greatest enemy's lackeys, he was tempted to deliver a swift kick onto the fucking chin of that rebel for all the commotion. Because of the rebel's senseless defiance now he had to wait for what would potentially be another hour.
Whatever, it was only a minor delay. Light knew that he could very well just come back later or stay until the rebel regains his consciousness, as he had already dealt with the abduction of Kiyomi Takada by dispatching a group of rescuers to the newly revealed location. It was still annoying though. Light wanted to at least unmask one rebel before they got executed or rescued. Which meant he would have to actually put in more effort to keep the rescue team L was sending at bay if his speculation was true, which Light was. Because he was always right.
He willed himself to withdraw his shoe away from the rebel's face. In any other circumstances, he would gladly indulge himself in kicking a vile criminal in the face, let alone a rebel that has given him so much trouble. The rebel seriously bit one of his guards that were escorting him to the capital. What was he a dog? L must be insane to have recruited this guy as one of his little minions. Light had personally seen through the process of picking his guards, they were the best of the best but none of them would be determined enough or deranged enough to even consider biting their enemy.
Even less when they are completely surrounded by their enemies. Yet the rebel had done it and he had performed the act viciously. That particular soldier had to stay in the psych ward for at least three days.
In his irritation with the rabid dog that was L's rebel soldiers. He can't help but see the ingenuity behind it. Truly, when he gets his hands on that L he will need to at least keep him alive for a few days so he could keep some intelligent company for the first time in his life. But not too long though, or else L might find some way to escape and the game will begin again. As much as Light enjoys this thrilling experience, he would just as much like a victory to be had once in a while. And L is just not providing that.
Maybe when this whole rebel ordeal is over he can go find Ryuzaki, if his weekly meetings taught him anything about that weird stranger that had the guts to walk up to him and show him such disrespect it was that the man was a mystery waiting to be solved. Questions kept rising every time Light met with the man, like how does a person dressed like the homeless know so much about the inner workings of his HQ? Or how does he even know so much about L?
Between the kidnapping of Kiyomi Takada and the massacre of recently reappearing criminals, Light had just put the information he received about L on the back burner until recently. And what he learned from Ryuzaki might have been small and insignificant to any other eyes but his, yet it had been enough. Learning that L had been a detective in his past, let alone one that was called in by Interpol to solve the most unsolvable crimes, explained a lot about his enemy and why L is so damn good at planning out his rebellious acts. Yet then, a new question pops up, why is L even doing this in the first place? It made no sense.
Light placed the key into where it was designed to go and turned it anti-clockwise until an audible click can be heard. The metal door swung open from Light's forceful strength in pulling it open. He took a step out of the cell but before he fully exited, a premature unexpected and unrestrained thought halted him.
Nothing was stopping him from taking a look at the rebel's face except for the restraints he placed on himself. He grimaced. Was he really going to waste a perfect opportunity to see a rebel's face and gather the general recruitment range of L just so he could feel a thrill? Slowly, Light turned back to stare at the rather short figure of the rebel. The rebel's mask appeared to gain a shining effect under the dungeon's refracting lights. It taunted him. He took a step back into the cell, his feet knowing what he wanted before his senses caught up.
His fingers found perches on the edges of the mask and started to pull it away from its owner. The chin was the first to be revealed and just when he was about to take the entire mask off. A loud ringing noise once again pierced through his concentration. This time he recognized it to be his phone ringing. More or less because of the unmistakable vibration occurring in his pants pocket.
With a loud curse, Light let the mask drop back down and got up from the crouching position he had mechanically been in to get on eye level with the rebel's mask.
He fumbled a bit trying to get his ringing phone from where it was concealed, and when he finally was able to answer the call he was greeted by a recognizable voice of Mikami.
"Yes?" Light spat quite nastily even by his standards. Silently he reprimanded himself for losing control in front of a follower.
"Kami, I called to report about the successful rescue of Kiyomi-san. I apologize if I caught you at a bad time." Mikami said with reverence in his voice. In the background, he vaguely heard the shouting of commands and the running footsteps of soldiers.
"I doubt you would call me just to report a successful rescue attempt, what more have you found out?" Light asked, inspecting his fingernails to see if they had gathered any dirt from this visit. He would've preferred if he had not needed to come down to this place ever again. The last time he had to visit an enemy that was dangerous enough to receive the honor of being locked up in the maximum-security dungeon, the gap between his fingernails and fingers was coated with a layer of dry blood when he came back out.
And they had remained in that appalling state for at least an hour despite him washing his hands repeatedly in order to get rid of it.
"Yes... Of course!" Mikami stuttered out, Light was glad that this was a conversation where Mikami could not see him because Light would have a hard time stopping himself from rolling his eyes. "Well, there was this memory stick placed in the hands of Kiyomi-san when we found her as the rebels have purposefully left it there for us to find."
While Mikami had been explaining what he had found Light was walking up the spiraling stairs that lead to the exit. His right hand paused from reaching for the handprint lock when he heard about the memory stick that was found with Takada. The hand that he was holding his phone began to twitch. A memory started to rise to the surface from its slumber.
"A memory stick?" Light questioned incredulously, turning the excessively frilly thing over and over again trying to find the secret something hidden inside because having his answer handed to him on a digital silver platter at this point was both insulting to his intelligence and rude.
"Yes, Kira-kun. Is there any problem with that? Or perhaps I should take that memory stick back if it offends your sensibilities." Ryuzaki said, his pale hand reaching out to take the pastel pink nightmare-inducing thing back. But Light held the memory stick higher than Ryuzaki's reaching point, the strawberry keychain sharply collided with the plastic surface of the memory stick to create a clunking sound. He used this to wordlessly indicate that despite his disgust he would like to keep the thing. Thankfully, Ryuzaki for once got the message and discontinued his attempts to get the memory stick back without commenting.
"No, there aren't any problems with that. I just didn't expect that you would have this kind of sensitive information saved in a digital format." Light clarified almost defensively as he once again inspected the object that was cradled in his hand.
"Sometimes, Kira-kun, the most difficult of questions, has the simplest answer. Besides, who doesn't take advantage of the many benefits that come with modern technology in this day and age?" Ryuzaki proclaimed with a mouthful of cake, a fork still dangling between his teeth.
"Kira-sama? Kira-sama!" Mikami concernedly called out, halting him from recalling the memory to the fullest extent.
"Mikami, once you get back you bring that memory stick straight to me." Light ordered, after he listened to Mikami's confirmation that he had heard the order he cut off the connection before the useless goodbyes could be said as he had better things he could be doing like preparing for the rebel's inedible rescue team's arrival.
"How are you holding up Near?"
The albino paused in his act of stacking the final block to his multicolor tower and subsequently the tower began to shake and wobble, its foundation crumbling before his eyes. Near stared blankly, unfazed at the unorganized pile of blocks that had crumbled at his feet. His lips curled the most emotion he had shown since he had heard about Mello's captivity and his inability to personally go out to save him because of his emotional entanglement with him.
L thought that Near would lose his capability of controlling his emotions if he knew that Mello's life is at stake. Near did not know what to think about what that implied about himself as one of the greatest detectives in recent history and perhaps even longer presumed that he might be blinded by his emotional attachments. Mello never would have wanted that; Near does not want that.
To now hear a consoling question from the second most emotional-stunted person in Wammy House next to Mello and him was to Near exactly like a nail on a chalkboard.
"Yes, I am holding up nicely as you can see." He said coldly without the usual bittersweet warmth that the sentence was spoken with, he gestured with his hand at the square-shaped blocks that previously had been a tower lying there at his feet. A crumpled piece of architecture, broken before it was able to be finished.
"Good, good." Matt fidgeted with the bright red gaming console that was in his hands, he stood there awkwardly as Near picked up a building block and restarted in his endeavor of building a tower out of blocks.
Matt suddenly let go of his polite pretense and composure, all the air of courtesy left him with one sigh. That apparently was the amount of normal social interaction he could stand since he grabbed a cigarette, an act Matt usually does when he is agitated.
"Look, Near, I know that we don't talk or interact at all aside when a mission is needed for it." Matt smoked the lit cigarette and puffed out smoke moments later, his body unconsciously leaning to the nearby wall for support.
"But hey, I figured that we both were indefinitely banned from going on the fields for who knows how long. Plus Linda is busy with L's big rescue plans, so I thought why can't we have a nice chat?" Matt said abrasively, his hands waving in the air in the general direction of where L sat commanding whoever was in charge of the reconnaissance mission, Near was not exactly paying attention at the usual round table meetings were held as he was distracted by the fact that Mello was captured by, in the purest sense of the word, a sociopath who cannot feel empathy.
Mello's rants certainly are having their effects on Near's usually apathetic views on Kira; it was at that exact moment that a revelation hit him like a toy train. Matt did not go out of his way to approach him for a counseling session that would be obviously out of his depth or a 'nice chat' he had put it. It was because of Mello or better put it was because of the lack of Mello. Matt had always been the one who had been following Mello ever since he appeared in Wammy House. If Near had any less respect than he did for Mello, he would dare say that Matt was very much like a loyal dog that had just lost its master. And although he would never simplify Matt and Mello's friendship as one like a pet and master's, the sentiment still stands.
Matt felt lost, and could not help but undergo the seven stages of mourning despite Mello not being at the factual status of the deceased. If this rescue mission L concocted failed on its first try, there will not be any other changes to retry.
Mello's execution was due in only a few days, which was expected. Kira understandably did want an enemy of his empire that was in his possession to be able to live as that would cause him to be scrutinized by all of his political enemies that were not so easy to kill off due to the outrage it would cause.
Kira was seen as a god by any average citizen and the tabloids were too afraid to directly slander him, but that would all change if Kira killed a prominent or well-liked public figure. A lot of early non-supporters in the political fields were able to survive off of this Achilles' heel of Kira's.
He would be lying if he claimed that thoughts of amusement did not come from this insight. Yet now Mello was very close to his demise because of this piece of information and all the hilarity that was deprived of it had turned abruptly sour.
"Indeed. Why can't we have a nice chat?" He duly inferred, his face showing nothing of his thoughts. "We are very similar after all."
"Yep. I mean you and I both have similar interests in things that are usually considered to be childish." Matt referenced without glancing once at the noticeable mess of blocks on the ground around him. Matt took another drag of his cigarette.
"What common society considers 'childish' is something that does not concern people like us. And our hobbies may be very similar, that's true but they are distinctly different." He answered with prompted neutrality, no hint of the words' actual meanings. Matt have no energy to decode what Near had spoken, but even so, he vaguely got the gist of it.
"Uh-huh. Well then, I am going to leave you with your distinctively different hobbies, I have no hopes of comparing to." Matt flicked his wrist, a bit of ash fell onto the tiled floor, dots of grey and black dust on a polished surface.
No attempts were made by either of them to hold another conversation after that. But to the two's credit, they did not prompt the other to leave their sight. Matt even got to enjoy a cigarette in Near's presence before he left. And although no closure was had by the two, that was a moment that the two had never forgotten about, mostly because of the eventfulness of the incident.
End Notes:
It's not halfway through 2022 but a lot (mainly terrible) stuff had already happened! World wide and in personal life. This fic has really helped me deal with my emotions this past month and I'm glad you, my dear readers decided to tune in for a read. Anyways, Fuck Putin. And Have a Good Day, Noon, Evening! :D