STORY SUMMARY: Being reborn into a Japanese story was bad enough. Being reborn as the twin sister to a certain notorious mass murderer, was another thing entirely. Told in a series of drabbles. Warning: Mild incest themes.

Rating: T (Subject to change)

GENERAL DISCLAIMER: It's not my sandbox. I'm just playing in it.

AN: Holy crap-I cannot believe how many of you I freaked out by averting from the canon path. Don't worry, loyal readers...I GOT THIS. :D

PS: This chapter is intended for all of you suffering from L withdrawal symptoms. Enjoy!

*AN: 4/7/19 Guys Guys Guys! Calm down. I warned you that I'd eventually start editing this. Nothing big, small details and spell checking mostly but a couple chapters were as a result out of sequence/missing for like 5 hours and you all blew up my inbox. Deep breaths people! IT'S GONNA BE OKAY. Expect new content soon... :D

Chapter Twenty-Two : Interlude : Confound

L had been staring at the same blemish on his whitewashed wall for approximately five hours and seventeen-minutes. Occasionally, two of his bone thin fingers would reach out and deposit a cube of plain, white sugar between his lips; but otherwise he never so much a shifted his weight. The pale detective was beside himself, having sufficient trouble deciphering his emotions—and his spiraling thoughts were offering very little in terms of reprieve.

Obviously, L had miscalculated. Failure wasn't something that he experienced often, if ever, thus he now found himself ill equipped to handle such a dilemma. He just couldn't wrap his mind around it—this didn't make any sense.

All the clues leading up to this point in his solo investigation were leaning towards Kanto, Japan. The death of Kuruo Otoharada—the IP addresses from the first ever websites linking information to Kira—and most notably of all, his intuition.

L couldn't fool himself into thinking that the broadcast had been anything besides a long shot—and yet…he'd still fully anticipated results of some kind—any kind. Instead, he'd turned up blank—empty handed. To say this was a first for the molded genius, would've been a monumental understatement.

But what had he missed? Since the beginning, those nine weeks ago, L had silently observed from the background as the mass murderer titled Kira slowly crept into the limelight. And while doing so, he'd composed a sort of substandard profile on his target. What he'd managed to deduce thus far, was that Kira—or killer—was more likely than not, working alone. He'd also been, for all intents and purposes, relatively ordinary and/or inactive until quite recently. Proof of this was in Otoharada's unexpected heart attack—an experimental death if L had even seen one. Furthermore, Kira was young and his sense of justice was par to that of a naive child—perpetually trying to save the world one hardened criminal at a time.

However, he was so much more complicated than that. It takes a special kind of individual to annihilation hundreds of people with little to no empathy. It requires cruelty and a tremendous sense of self entitlement. For what little he knew, L was sure that whoever Kira was—or whomever led the operative—that person was not sane.

And that minor detail was his give away. The Kira he'd been tracking would never have hesitated to kill Lind L. Tailor—hence why the young detective currently found himself in a state of utter perplexity.

It was possible that he'd had simply misinterpreted the location—the ICPO would doubtlessly insist upon repeating his ploy throughout various cities and quite probably, countries. But while that had been the original initiative; L just couldn't shake a sudden sense foreboding. As if he'd missed a dire opportunity—and now the consequences would be nothing short of astronomical.

Reaching blindly for his next dose of sugar, L's fingers met smooth, cold porcelain and little else. Flinching slightly, he retracted his arm, even as Watari approached from behind, carrying a fresh bowl in hand.

But when his retainer lingered just outside of his peripherals, L cast his hollowed eyes to meet those of his elder.

"Yes, Watari?"

"I have the ICPO on the line again, along with the NPA. They wish to know what went awry with your plan."

The prodigy detective remained quiet, taking a moment to nibble on the end of his thumb nail.

"L?"

"Watari, where is Mr. Lind Tailor right now?"

"He is currently being transferred between maximum security prisons—as was agreed upon in exchange for his cooperation."

L nodded, placing one hand on the back of the divan, exerting the adequate amount pressure in order to vault over the top seamlessly. He made his way to his computer station next, swiftly pulling up multiple reports and police files.

"Good. I want him monitored at all times. I also want his name and face splattered across every news channel at least once a week. If the networks can't find a reason to do so, then inform them to make one up. However, I want these broadcasts kept to strictly major Japanese cities."

"Sir? Are we not redirecting the investigation?"

"Well, I suppose at this point, I have no alternative choice other than to do exactly that—but I just can't escape the feeling that the answers I seek are right here, under my nose." His final comment was murmured more for his own benefit than that of his confidante.

"And Mr. Tailor, then? You mean to use him as bait?"

"No. I mean to use him as an invitation. Kira will inevitable seek me out in order to eliminate a potential threat—and the easiest way for him to alert my attention would be by killing off my impostor."

Watari was silent.

AN: I'm not sure how many of these L POV's I'm going to be doing-that's entirely up to you guys so tell me what you think. Also, before I say my goodbyes, quick question: Next chapter, would you prefer an interlude for Light's POV since we're kinda overdue, or just an ordinary chapter. Let me know ;) Thanks so much for all your awesome support everyone!