Another installment and, yet again, I feel like all I do in this story is torture Light! What's wrong with me? I'm actually starting to feel sorry for him...

I've been reshuffling a few things around to give us three more chapters after this one. We're in the end game now.

Downfall

FOR NOW, THE storm was subdued; the night's raging tempest had calmed to a rivulet of tears. Hoarse from their agonised cries, the winds groaned in submission beyond the window's shaded panes. An uncertain dawn had emerged, gloom still lingering upon the sky's brow. On the ground floor, the building's central room lay empty and in darkness. Only the dim glow cast from the monitors' screensavers lit Light's path down the final steps of the staircase and across the polished floor. Watari, typically, had risen early to brew a pot of coffee for the detectives ahead of their day's work. Chancing a brief look around him, Light approached the desk and took two white cups from the stack. He filled both with coffee and plucked eight sugar cubes from the bowl which had been set out alongside them. As he stirred the liquid, Light was struck with the unnerving sensation that he was being watched.

"Light Yagami," echoed a deep voice.

Light's arm jolted, the cup clanging noisily against its saucer. From behind the server stack - a tall structure of black boxes set with blinking lights - two yellow eyes loomed amongst the shadows.

"What?" Light demanded, brandishing his spoon as though it was a weapon. "And why do you always have to use my full name?" Rem's pale form materialised before him, her long limbs stiffened in contempt as she drudged towards the student. Light stared up in fright as the shinigami towered over him.

"You are a part of this investigation team now?" Rem inquired, her skeletal spine curved as she peered down at the student. Light's mouth worked soundlessly, bewildered by this unusual brand of shinigami small talk.

"Well, y-yeah… I'm going to stay at headquarters until we catch Kira." He toyed nervously with the spoon in his hand, uncertain as to whether he was expected to give any further explanation.

"Then there is something that you ought to know." Rem's slow voice was full of menace. "The difference between Kira, an arrogant human who plays at being God, and a true shinigami."

"Wh-what are you talking about?" Light asked, lifting both cups. The china trembled within its saucers.

"Here it is." The spectre extended a skeletal finger towards Light, who shrank even smaller under her fierce gaze. "Unlike humans who are limited by a lack of knowledge, and who are too often prone to fear and remorse... I am capable of killing anyone."

Light's hold on one of the cups finally slipped. The china shattered upon the floor; a surge of dark liquid spread in a wide pool. At this, the shinigami retreated into the darkness, leaving only the glare of orange eyes like burning coals.

Shivering, Light retrieved a cloth to wipe up the spilt mess. He knelt, carefully placing broken shards in the centre of his palm. Capable of killing anyone… why would it say that to me? The student rose; the remains of the cup gathered in one hand, the damp cloth trailing from the other. From the doorway came a spirited whistling. A moment later and the source of the unmelodious sound had appeared; Matsuda stood glancing warily between Light and the shining patch of freshly-cleaned floor.

"Sorry… am I interrupting you?" Matsuda laughed nervously. Light moved from the bin to busy himself with preparing a fresh cup of coffee. He willed his shaking hands to still as he lifted the steaming pot. As he watched the student's progress, a smile brightened Matsuda's features. He stepped forward with an enquiring nod. "Two cups of coffee?"

"Er… this one's yours," Light spoke with both veritable speed and calm. He passed the first cup to Matsuda then, taking the second, he stalked quickly past the former police detective. Light had placed his foot upon the first step when-

"Thanks... Hey, that fire alarm was pretty crazy last-" The student was paralysed, cup and saucer held aloft. Matsuda approached, the same knowing smile spreading across his face.

"Ah... I get it. You probably want to get back upstairs."

"What?" Light gripped his coffee cup tightly, afraid that he was about to drop a second. "Why- Why would you say that?"

"Um… oh, a couple of reasons actually..." Matsuda scratched the back of his head, tittering down at his feet. "Your new room is above mine, if you remember? And… well… even after the alarm stopped, I could hear… voices pretty late last night… or I should say, this morning..."

"I was by myself the entire time," Light quipped, barely pausing for breath. He swallowed firmly. "I should go."

"Oh… okay…" Matsuda regarded the student so peculiarly that Light felt he had to look away towards the top of the staircase. "If you say so… only…"

"What?"

"Since you've taken your own room, you've kept to the same routine; up at seven and retiring around eleven. So, it seems unusual that you would go to bed so late and then get up so early. And with two cups of coffee." Matsuda nodded to himself proudly. "It's an anomaly, as Ryuazki would say."

With an uttered oath, Light turned to face him.

"Seriously, after months of only knowing about twenty percent of what's going on at any given point, now you're suddenly the world's greatest detective?"

"Huh? Me?" Matsuda looked quizzically up at him. "Did something happen to Ryuzaki?"

"No, he's in the shower." Light's breath caught in his throat. "I- I mean, probably. Or he's on his computer. I don't know! What am I, his keeper?"

Matsuda glanced down. "Okay… if you say so… it's just…" His hand found the back of his head once more. "Your hair…"

Light placed a hand on the back of his own head, feeling a thick clump of tangled hair. Hurriedly he tried to flatten the mass.

"Fine," he sighed, changing tact entirely. Light moved down several steps, his cup wobbling perilously in its saucer. "Misa stayed over last night. Happy now?"

"Oh..." The former police detective appeared to stare past Light, a faint frown creasing his forehead. "Misa...?"

"Hey!" came a cheerful response in greeting. For there, unzipping her leather jacket and waving a paper bag, stood Misa Amane.

"I woke up before my alarm for once so I thought I'd get the super early train over and bring everyone some breakfast!" Oblivious to Light's horror and Matsuda's secret triumph, Misa beamed at the two young men. Light stared into his steaming coffee, willing himself to shrink down to the size of a sugar cube so that he might roll in and be both simultaneously boiled and drowned.

"Thanks Misa Misa!" Matsuda struggled to contain his glee as he reached out to pat Light good-humouredly on the arm. Light continued to gaze down into his coffee as Matsuda bounded excitedly over to Misa and her bag of freshly-baked shokupan. Unsteadily, the student placed his cup on the step in front of him and reached an arm over the chrome bannister for the contents of the paper bag. Misa unfurled the top, recoiling in alarm as the collar of Light's jumper shifted. Just discernible beneath the v of the material, a purple bruise was spreading.

"No way!" the model gasped shrilly, "don't tell me Ryuzaki pounded you again!" The wrapped shokupan dropped from Light's hand.

"What?" Light uttered a wild laugh. "No. And, anyway... shouldn't that be the other way round?" Misa retrieved the fallen bread from the floor and passed it back up to the student, her expression set resignedly.

"Oh please, Light."

"Misa..." Light placed the wrapped bread next to his coffee and stood to face her. "Honestly, I don't even have time to argue right now. We need-" He threw a panicked look about the room then, satisfied that Matsuda was occupied in tearing the bread's wrapper open with his teeth, Light beckoned the model closer. Stretching her body, Misa rose onto the tips of her platform boots and draped herself over the handrail.

"Let's go for a walk," Light muttered, "let the others know and I'll join you out front in like ten minutes, okay?"

"Finally, you're asking me on a real date!" Misa clenched her fists in glee. "I knew you would eventually!"

"Misa!" As Light glanced up, he started violently at the sight of L with a white towel upon his head. The detective was ten or so stairs above him and descending slowly. Even as he drew nearer, L remained silent. Light studied his expression, attempting to discern some show of emotion, however brief, but there was nothing in the look of L's eyes or the set of his jaw that could reveal his current disposition. Only his under-eye shadows seemed darker against his pale skin, whilst a blot of dried blood marked his lower lip. Misa, glancing warily between them, stepped backwards, arms folded across her black dress.

"Hmph! I am not going to just stand here while you two go at it again!" Light felt the colour rising in his face. He caught L's eye; the detective glanced away quickly.

"We're not…" Light trailed off vaguely, uncertain as to the point he had been navigating to with such a statement. For want of some gesture to occupy his hands, Light retrieved his coffee cup and shokupan. On the step above him, L hesitated as he removed the towel from his hair. He gave the briefest of glimpses in Light's direction; it was suddenly as though Light's insides had been flooded with swirling water. To his momentous relief, L's attention was diverted to the objects held in Light's hands.

"Oh," L managed.

"Er… yeah…" Light's normally adept grasp of syntax and grammar had somewhat loosened. "If you want me-" He exhaled sharply through his nose. "Them, then-"

"Thank you." L clapped a genial hand to Light's shoulder, sending a small shockwave down Light's arm. Hardly an hour ago the very same hand had gripped his wrist behind his head, fingertips biting into flesh as Light had let out a guttural moan...

"Light?"

"What?" Light burst out angrily, slopping lukewarm coffee over his sneaker. With the faintest trace of a smile, L took the cup from him and loped over to his usual seat. Misa stood, her mouth slanted, eyes moving from Light's soiled shoe up to his face.

"It's just, your hair is totally matted at the back… what happened?"

"We all have bad hair days sometimes!" Light exploded. "Look, I'll be down soon, alright?"

x-x-x

Outside, a chill hung in the air. The feeble sun lay swarmed in wreaths of ash-grey cloud whilst a weak spittle of rain intermittently broke the stillness. Every so often a marrow-freezing wind would viciously whip the spray beneath the drawn hoods of passers-by and turn out umbrellas in savage delight. Hands stowed away in jacket pockets, Light strode with a bowed head. At his side, Misa had wrapped both arms through his left, her knuckles drawn up to her chin.

"So where exactly are you taking me?" she asked excitedly, her jaw chattering. As she drew herself into his shoulder, Light narrowly avoided stumbling over a rain-soaked tenji block.

"You do realise that this isn't a date, Misa?" Light sighed, "do you really think I'd ask you out to walk down the road and back up to headquarters again?"

"What do you mean it's not a date?" Misa whined.

"I don't know…" Light hunched over as a piercing gust drove at them again with renewed spite. "I mean, if I was planning a real date, then… I'd get a couple of day passes to a theme park, or maybe tickets to a concert. Or maybe I'd just book a table at a café that I know… you'd like."

Light stopped. Before them, where the avenue opened up in several directions, a large billboard had been emblazoned over the street corner. Misa's face beamed down at them, her lips pursed coquettishly. In the image she was holding a phone to her ear whilst a display of violently luminous graphics leapt out of her open palm. Keep your loved ones protected with Yotsuba Life Insurance! Anti-Kira cover included. www-yotsuba-jp

"If I wasn't so heavily implicated in this, I could have at least enjoyed the irony," Light muttered darkly. He glanced warily around them, hesitating as a mismatched gaggle of school children, older students and impatient businessmen filtered past. As the pair continued after them, he spoke in a low voice.

"Misa… the reason we have to talk outside like this is because it's not safe for us at headquarters." With a whimper, Misa pressed herself more closely into him. "That shinigami… Rem? I think it threatened me."

"Rem?" All the tension seemed to ease out of Misa as she laughed breathlessly. "No way! Rem's a friend. She would never hurt someone I care about!" Light turned his head against the wind, regarding her seriously.

"Did you just call her a friend?" Wintry air and flawed logic made the student grimace. "That makes no sense. I know you said Rem was attached to you before, but why would a Shinigami go to the trouble of becoming friends with a human? It just wouldn't work. It would be like if Scar and Mufusa were friends!"

"Or you and L!" Misa taunted.

"Wh-what?"

"Rem and I used to hang out when I had her Death Note," Misa continued matter-of-factly, gesturing with an open hand. "So what? We pretty much always talked about you, so it's not like you need to worry or anything!"

"Oh yeah? What exactly did you say?"

"I guess... like, how to get your attention and stuff?" Misa shrugged, her hands clasping Light's upper arm. "Sometimes we'd just hang out, watch K-dramas and paint each others' nails and claws…"

"And she seemed perfectly happy to help you?" Light asked, his tone drenched with doubt. "This shinigami never wanted anything in return?" When Misa shrugged again and glanced away, Light exhaled a cloud of white breath.

"True friends help each other without needing a reason," Misa proclaimed, the pitch of her voice climbing to a petulant squeal. "Why can't you just trust her, Light? It's like you always expect the worst in people!"

"Sure… maybe…" Light drew in a lungful of cold air and let out another misty breath. "But, considering what we know…" Misa, who had been looking hopefully towards the ice cream parlour at the end of the row, grumbled as she found herself rotated around to face the opposite end of the street once more. Light took the sidewalk in great, furious strides as he reasoned aloud.

"For one, Rem isn't exactly a fan of mine. Even if we argue that her aim was to help you by pointing out where I had buried Ryuk's Death Note… it still doesn't explain why she didn't tell you that I'm no longer Kira." Removing a gloved hand from his jacket, Light rubbed at his eyes. Working through the facts was like wading through mud. With the shinigami's barely-veiled threat, his knowledge of the buried Death Note burdening his conscience and the unexpected but exhilarating turn of events last night - and again this morning - Light felt that his head was liable to explode at any given second. More so he lamented the fact that, of the three cups of coffee he had made that morning, he had drunk precisely zero.

"Who knows…" Misa gazed before her, to where the tower block of the task force headquarters threw its neighbouring counterparts into shadow. The darkness seemed to creep under the burden of gathering clouds. "I mean, it's not like she hates you exactly…" She chewed at her lip, her cheeks flushed by the relentless wind.

"It's not? Then what did she say about me?"

"She… okay, but don't get all worked up!" Misa waved her hands emphatically. "It's just… she may have… threatened to kill you in the past…"

"Misa!" Light ground to an absolute halt, his terrified eyes upon her.

"Well exsqueeze me! You threatened to kill me first!"

"I did…?" This time Light pressed his entire face into his glove. "The Kira version of me sounds like a total ass."

"You were still sexy though, so I forgave the odd murdery comment!" Misa poked her tongue out playfully between her teeth.

"Yeah, we can talk about your misguided taste in men when this is all over…" Light turned his widened eyes away. "And… Misa?"

"Yes Light, darling?"

Light licked his dry lips. "We need to be on our guard. Rem may claim that she's your friend, but the lengths she's willing to go to help you are disturbing to say the least. So long as you still have possession of that Death Note, then none of us are safe." He lapsed into silence, staring ahead into the building's dark glass doors. "I've already thought of a way to disable the note, but for that we'll need L. And then, we can finally get rid of it." Beside him Misa barely suppressed a shiver.

"Failing that… there's only one other way…" Light looked at her gravely. "That... thing... we spoke about last night? We may have no choice."

Beneath the fading daylight the model's eyes shone. "But Light-" Her lip trembled.

"Misa, if there was any other way out of this then I would've thought of it by now…" Light sighed heavily. "...so I need you to stay close to me from now on. Go where I go."

"…you know I always will, Light…" Misa wiped her face with the back of her hand. Her small voice carried such conviction that Light felt compelled to reach for her shoulder. With an expression of tenderness, Misa put out her arms towards him. Light drew backwards instead, concluding their conversation with a fatherly pat upon her head. In the distance came a low rumble of encroaching thunder.

x-x-x

The central control room was more populated than when Light had emerged earlier that morning. Soichiro, Aizawa and Mogi had gathered to the far left side of the work desks where several screens displayed images of black pages filled with white script. At the far end of the room Rem haunted the server stack. As Light and Misa passed through, Light could feel the movement of her yellow eyes as if they were trained upon the back of his skull. Resisting the temptation to look back, he approached the line of work desks at the opposite end of the room.

Light's skin burned from the movement of cold air outside to sudden warmth. Not for the first time in recent months, he felt trapped within the slowly unfolding horror of a high school nightmare sequence. He was seized with the paranoia of one discussed in depth by everyone around him, but without being privy to the information himself. The presence of the shinigami alone was enough to unnerve Light, but this was merely another layer added to the weighty burden of secrets carried with him. Despite his leaden legs and crumbling resolve, he forced himself to continue to where L was crouched by the right side of the desks. The urgency of the situation; Light's desperation to disable and dispose of Misa's Death Note, liberating them all from an unsolvable case was far more pressing than his own tangled web of emotions.

As Light drew nearer, his father glanced up at him solemnly. He ground to a sudden halt. Why is he giving me such an odd look? Cold sweat broke out on Light's forehead. He drew the back of his hand across his face. Could he know something….? What if Matsuda…? But Soichiro only inclined his head briefly before returning to his task.

L had not moved from the second chair to the right. An unwrapped, half-eaten shokupan sat next to his undrunk coffee.

"Ryuzaki-" The name felt clunky and unfamiliar now as Light spoke it aloud. It belonged to a former era, to the strange young man who had first approached him at To-Oh before aggressively imposing himself on every aspect of Light's life. The individual who sat before him was altogether a different entity. Light couldn't even be sure that this was L anymore. At Light's salutation however, he glanced over his shoulder. L was visibly tired and his dark hair had been softly ruffled. A flood of warmth pooled in Light's abdomen. Uncertain as to whether he would simply vomit if he opened his mouth again, he managed a small noise before he was promptly cut off by the appearance of Watari.

"I apologise for the interruption," the old gentleman spoke briskly. He placed a bowl on the desk before L. "Ryuzaki, I'm on hold to the Director of the NPA so you'll need to add your other toppings yourself."

"Please, I'm not a child," L snapped. He leaned forward to stare dully into the contents of the bowl. "But where are the rainbow sprinkles? What exactly are you trying to put over here, Watari?"

"It… can wait," Light conceded. He took the chair to L's right, sitting stiffly on the very edge of the seat as L and Watari continued their dispute.

And so the next hour passed in relative apprehension. Outside, the sky grew darker as task force members arrived and exited. Rem lurked conspicuously. Misa was perched upon one of the green sofas, a magazine sprawled across her lap. Its pages were left unturned, evident that she either possessed the reading speed of a small child or that her acting repertoire did not extend to feigning interest in literature.

L's attention was sought by everyone, or so it seemed. Light gripped the plastic seat, desperate to snatch the next opening when it arrived, but the steady stream of phone calls, urgent, whispered messages and interruptions left him waiting in suspense. Finally, as soon as Mogi had returned to his desk and L began stirring the contents of his bowl, Light rolled his chair minutely closer to L's. He had to press his hands onto his knees to keep them still. As he looked around, Light noticed that Misa was staring over the open magazine at him, her face tightened with worry. Deep in the belly of the grey sky came the unmistakable rumble of distant thunder.

"L…" Light leaned closer. The bowl on the desk between them contained chopped strawberries floating in a sea of watery whipped cream like misshapen icebergs. L did not speak but proceeded to stir at the grotesque mixture with a long-stemmed spoon. Light's stomach knotted horribly at the detective's prolonged silence. Upon his knee, his fingers flexed as he imagined some small gesture, some small token of reassurance that he could offer… a squeeze of his hand, a brush of the arm, if only for a moment… But Light could not move. Dimly, he thought ahead to some distant time when he might look back upon those seconds with regret. If only Misa would look away. If only the others weren't present, his father among them. If only they were alone… He watched as L dipped his finger into the mixture and sucked it clean from end to tip.

"Do you wanna go upstairs?" Light surprised himself. It wasn't the question he had intended to ask.

"There's really no need. We can speak freely here," L replied tersely, gesturing towards where the other detectives stood across the room. He lowered his spoon, taking it round and round the swirling liquid. "How was your date?"

"It wasn't really a date…" Light explained, sensing the disdainful tone L had placed upon the word. "Misa just wanted to hang out here today. She's already handed in her phone to Matsuda." He looked over to Misa self-consciously; the model's leg was jumping nervously, jolting the pages of her unread magazine. Behind her, Rem watched on.

L continued to stir at the cream, the metal clinking rhythmically against the side of the bowl. There came another bellow of thunder from outside. "I see."

Frustrated and hating himself, Light plunged on regardless. "L, I've been thinking about the Death Note's rules a lot lately. I'm not convinced all of them make sense." At this, L glanced sideways at him prompting Light to continue. "Has it occured to you that the person who wrote them might have included fake rules… kind of like a test for whoever found the note?"

"Yes," L spoke quietly as he severed a strawberry in two with the side of his spoon. "It has."

"Oh. Well then…" Light moved even closer, wetting his lips with his tongue. "Have you considered trying out the Death Note to see?"

"I have," L replied. Light exhaled slowly. This is it. Now I just need to bring up the disabling rule. It's obvious that L would be in favour of preventing unnecessary use of the Death Note, so he's likely to agree with me…

"...which is precisely why I did."

"What?" Light croaked. In front of him, L lay down his utensil to produce a blackbound book which he grasped by the upper edges. He moved his chair around for all to see. Soichiro, Aizawa, Mogi and Matsuda watched, comparably less surprised. As L spoke, he glanced down over his extended fingertips.

"I've been considering the possibility of Kira using individual pages ever since we discovered the notebook," L explained. "And then when I examined the item, I discovered a tear just here." He pointed to a blank page, the corner of which had been ripped clean away. Light swallowed as a wave of nausea washed over him. His hands fiddled with his watch strap.

"That's why I had a page sent to a county prison, with the agreement that an inmate who was scheduled to be executed today write his own name in it." L looked around himself with grim satisfaction. "And would you believe that it worked?"

At the window, something flashed. Inside, the air lay stagnant and warm. Too warm. Light wiped at his forehead with his sleeve again. "But… no, that's not right…"

"Most unorthodox," Soichiro grumbled.

"I know it's a little shady," Matusa agreed with them, "or super shady if you ask me, but don't you see what this means? We're one step closer to understanding how Kira kills his victims. Now it won't be long until the real Kira is caught!"

The real Kira… Light forced an unnatural laugh. "Heh heh. As long as you're not looking at me when you say that, Matsu!"

"The very reason I can share this information with all of you, of course, is because I know Kira isn't among us," L spoke over him. Light felt his shoulders loosen. His eyes darted over to Misa, whose expression remained sombre.

"That is, unless I die within the next day," L's voice sounded strangely calm, almost indifferent as he resumed stirring his strawberries. "After all, the only individuals with enough information to kill me using a Death Note are standing in this room." The detectives exchanged a few uncomfortable glances, clearly assessing whether or not this had been intended as a joke. Light felt a sudden compulsion to look away.

That's when he saw that Rem had vanished.