Author's Note: And here we (finally) have Playing the Game pt.1, which itself encompasses half of Act Four of The Human Stains. On the other hand, Part Five is the planned final section, which means that this will be the second to penultimate update. :P Soz for the delay- I actually finished an intial draft of this quite quickly but decided a lot of it didn't work and was essentially rubbish, so I had to rewrite long swathes of text. Perfectionism is annoying.

In response to a review from RalphZiggy, there is a very specific reason why the shinigami has been withheld thus far. I'll leave you guys to speculate!

UPDATE: Story as a whole undergoing revisions. New updates coming soon.

The Human Stains

Act Four: Playing the Game: pt.1

Another plan. Another success... for the most part. Hikigaya Hachiman wasn't entirely sure that any plan which intentionally brought him closer to a volatile, hubristic serial killer could really be called successful (or sane, for that matter), but him and Yuigahama had successfully gone on the offensive against Kira. Now, the ball was in her court- only time would tell what her return was like.

Hachiman closed the front door to his household after returning from school just like he always had, but the motion was closely followed by a feeling of release so intense he swore his heartbeat stuttered. Not a relief. It was a release of nerves, of tense, and of a breathtaking fear that had been instilled in the marrow of his bones, shaking them with all the ferocity of the ground underneath the power of a workman's drill. Hachiman had never been particularly inspired by drama, and any participation in plays at school was brought about by the insistence of his teachers that it was compulsory. The recent day at Soubu High had unfurled much like a play as well, with every actor given an equally pivotal part to enact, only that there was nothing as clear and definable as a protagonist and an antagonist. There were no themes or subtext or witty dialogue or teasing camaraderie between the players. There was only the stage, where death awaited the actor that choked on their line.

The prospect of continuing with that level of concentration, with that same unrelenting vehemence, for the foreseeable future while they continued to press forward against Kira was daunting to say the least. But the plan required it. And, he mused, sustained deception was far more agreeable than a quick death. They had split this masterstroke into three main steps. Simple in theory but boundlessly challenging to execute.

Step One: manoeuvre into a position that brought Hachiman closer to Yukino. It couldn't be Yuigahama to assume the role- as had been so in their first and failed attempt with the cookies- for there was a chance Yukino already suspected her. Of course, inserting himself into the fray with their trick in the classroom would only increase these suspicions, but that was the idea. Once they had found out of Kira's connection to Hayato, they'd hatched the trick in a series of almost feverish texts, sent back and forth and back and forth until every fault in logic and practicality had been ironed out, and they felt certain that Yukino would not be able to preempt it. Suggesting that Hayato himself could be H while also asserting themselves as clear possibilities gave Kira a pool just a little too deep for her to kill them off with the Death Note- that is, without attracting the attention that would be her downfall. The biggest gamble involved was how Hayato himself would react. Thankfully, he had done so just as Hachiman predicted, involving himself at their prompt (not that he knew it was a prompt) so as to diffuse the confrontation, thus singling him out for Kira even more than their invitation already had. Their identical initials were a coincidence H was more than grateful for.

The conjured plot of a love triangle, and the confession which Hachiman also correctly predicted Yukino would accept, could only be interpreted by Kira as a method of surprise. Something akin to jumping out of a dark corner and shooting boo. But, in reality, there was method to the madness. Though Hachiman put himself under threat by allowing Kira a free shot at figuring out whether he was H, she put herself in a far more compromising situation. As her boyfriend, Hachiman would be more than entitled to get a closer glimpse at Yukino in return. It may take time, but eventually... Yukino wouldn't be able to put off allowing him into her apartment. It may take awhile, but he was confident in himself. Kira was evidently a petty individual. She was childish. Needlessly competitive. She despised losing. He could goad her into letting him in, and that would give him the golden chance he needed. The chance to snatch the Death Note from right under her nose and win the game, once and for all. Checkmate.

Even after the plan had been given its finishing touches, Hachiman had once again struggled to convince Yuigahama to proceed with it. He knew it could be the only chance they got to win. Their troublesome emotions and doubts had to be discarded. A necessary sacrifice in order to take the piece of Kira's queen. And despite Yuigahama misgivings, which still tugged at Hachiman's conscience, she had played her part beautifully. From now on, closer contact with Kira meant that they couldn't risk her finding their calls and text conversations, so before the plan was carried out they deleted each other's numbers. To all intents and purposes, there could be no more contact between them. Hikigaya Hachiman, H, was now on his own.

Step Two: convince Yukino of his integrity. This was the hardest step of all, but frustratingly, also the most important. The entire plan hinged on it. He had to convince Yukino that his ludicrous confession was, in fact, fashioned by secretly harboured affection alone. That she could strike him from the list of three and then concentrate on Yuigahama and Hayato. It might be enough to simply keep her from reaching the conclusion that he was H, just as long as he eventually managed to worm his way into that damn apartment. She didn't know that they knew about the Death Note, so wouldn't have much of a reason to deny her boyfriend entry, unless she intended to milk the "Let's take it slow" card for all it was worth.

The thought of what he might be subjected to caused bile to rise in his throat. Kisses. Flirting. Fake lovesick gazes and dates with Kira, the murderer of over a thousand people. Sacrifices atop sacrifices.

Hachiman dropped his schoolbag on the doormat, made his way into the living room and then collapsed onto the sofa, feeling utterly exhausted. It wasn't a fulfilled exhaustion either- one that he might feel after achieving all his aims for the day, or by simply getting through it without any interruption of inconvenience. It was one full of apprehension for what the future might hold. He wished that he was able to bring his mind to a halt. To just stop and relax for a moment. But, this perpetual motion in his mind hadn't let up since Yuigahama had approached him, and he not never truly been at ease since. Always waiting or worrying or scheming. He had been reading a light novel series before Kira; now, he had forgotten what it was even called. He wondered if, even after beating her (that is, if he succeeded in that feat), he would ever be able to live so carelessly again.

He closed his eyes for just a moment, only to open them when he heard someone else enter through the door to the living room. He already knew who it would be.

'... Geez, Onii-chan. You look dreadful.'

Hachiman didn't say anything at first. 'That was so low in Komachi points.'

She didn't laugh at the old, hollow sounding joke. Instead, she just shuffled her feet and pouted. Komachi was truly dreadful at hiding when she was irritated.

'Are you gonna tell me why you're mad, or just stand there?'

'I think the real question is if you're gonna tell me why you're mad,' she retorted accusingly.

Hachiman looked away, hoping that the resignation on his face didn't show. He had known that she would bring it up eventually, but had dreaded it regardless.

Komachi sighed, then walked over and sat down beside him.

'... I wish you'd tell me what was wrong, Onii-chan. I thought we'd got past the stage when you'd just mope around, but... it kinda hurts when you don't say cause it feels like you don't trust-'

Hachiman rubbed his eyes. 'No, Komachi, that's not it-'

'Then just say it.' She crossed her arms immaturely. 'Every night for the past few weeks, you've just gone straight up to your room. We've barely spoken; you only come down again to grab some instant ramen or eat the food I made, and then leave without even saying thank you most of the time. It's, like, totally not cool. Plus, sometimes I hear you talking on your phone, which is definitely not normal.'

Hachiman ignored the the subtle-but-not-really-subtle jibe. 'I've just been busy with schoolwork-'

'Too busy to say hello to your favourite imouto? Really?' She hesitated, averting her eyes. 'I'm... I'm just worried about you, Onii-chan. Are people being mean to you at school...? Wait- you didn't confess to someone again, did you-'

'Komachi, no. Look...'

His tongue came to a halt. He felt as if he were stood at a crossroads, with the road ahead, the right path to take, obscured by a hundred possibilities twining in and out of each other. How could he even possibly begin to articulate himself? All of a sudden, he understood Yuigahama's plight before she had originally confided to him about the Death Note. About the secrecy, and the awfulness of that, and the desperation to confide in someone himself but not having the words or even the right to do so. Even to Komachi, the person he trusted so deeply it hurt. Their language had so many phrases and idioms and words that most found themselves encumbered by the dilemma of which to pick; why, amongst so many options, did there not seem a single one which was appropriate?

And then, to entrust Komachi with that... no. Sharing that load would not be a relief. It would not bring him peace knowing that he had someone to rely on. That Komachi would stand by his side no matter what, as had always been an immutable solace to him, had no bearing here. This wasn't something relating to middle school drama, or a case of bullying, or even a fight at school. This was so much more, such that its gravity could never be truly expressed, and he doubted whether Komachi would be capable of detaining it maturely anyway. Endangering Hayato and Yuigahama in his plot was almost too much for him as it was, but involving his own family, endangering his sister's life, would send him spiralling over the proverbial cliff's edge and down to the jagged rocks below.

'... Komachi, don't you have homework to do?'

He didn't look as she gasped, knowing fully well that the offence at his dismissal on her face would shatter his resolve in an instant. Neither did he look as she muttered "idiot Onii-chan" under her breath and stormed out the room.

This, Hachiman could easily admit, was one of the most poignant sacrifices yet.

But even now, time was of the essence. He had a date with fate to organise. First impressions had and always would be pivotal, but especially so here. He had been toying with ideas in his mind on the way home, and since it was Thursday evening and he intended for the date to be Saturday afternoon, he only had a day to make the necessary arrangements. Hachiman could just pick out a cafe, but it didn't exactly scream out, "I've been waiting for this moment since I first meet you". He needed something extra.

He didn't have time to be weary or to regret the confrontation with Komachi, because suddenly his phone was in his hand, and he was typing down notes with a frantic urgency.

Very early on in the inception of the Service Club, Hiratsuka-sensei had spoken plainly with Kira, telling her that she doubted the newly found club would have a line of clients eagerly awaiting her advice even after it properly established itself. To counteract this, she suggested that they raise the profile of the club, however slightly, by leaving a notice on the Sobu High website. A tab on the dashboard would bring someone to a page where, anonymously if they wished, they could send an email to Yukino detailing their request and expectations to her. The Service Club had a slow and out of date laptop lying misused in a cardboard box at the back of the room, which was still just about capable of receiving these emails. Yukino would, from this, have another and less personal platform for the requests. When they came.

This lack of clientele meant that, for the majority of her club sessions (which closer resembled silent vigils than anything else), the laptop would remain in that cardboard box. But, Friday afternoon, the very day after Yukinoshita Yukino had entered a relationship for the first time, she founded herself logging on due to the urging of a hunch. Kira and H's first date was tomorrow, and the destination was to be a surprise, naturally. Strange that her gender would be a disadvantage here, as it meant that Hachiman, if he was H, could prepare a venue and perhaps a trap in advance.

The hunch told her that, before the date, she just might have another encounter with H. It struck her that, thus far, they hadn't really spoken without the hinderance of social restrictions or facades. H didn't have any specific reason to break this pattern, but... if she were H, and on the trail of a serial killer, she would probably try to keep Kira guessing at any opportunity. Keep Kira apprehensive of their presence.

When an email did come from an anonymous address, she smirked a little.

Even in the day since Yukino's confrontation with Hikigaya Hachiman, Yuigahama Yui and Hayama Hayato, she had found she couldn't get H out of her mind. This wasn't odd in itself, as it was perfectly justifiable that she would be toying with that trio in her head, weighing up the chances that each was H. To a certain extent, that was exactly the purpose of these thoughts. She had perused those individuals over and over again, taking them in like scents on the nose of a sniffer dog, looking at their backgrounds, their personalities, or the personalities that they assumed in public. It was difficult to psycho-analyse someone when they could quite easily, and in fact quite probably be lying, but definitely not nugatory. What was odd was that the thoughts didn't fill her with rage and whatever variant upon that, as it had in the past. Instead, H conjured within her...

Excitement?

It was absurd. H was a mortal enemy. He was chasing her down with every intention of bringing her to life imprisonment, or perhaps even capital punishment. But, Kira thought, there is a good reason why we have the saying "The thrill is in the chase". Yukino had inherited that gene of competitiveness from her parents, who had evidently been ravenously ambitious themselves, and had done nothing to discourage that biting determination. Often, it was competition that brought out one's best performance. But, despite a genuine desire to have a rival, someone to pit herself against, there had never been one for Yukinoshita Yukino. At first, she had thought it was Haruno, but even though there was no difference between them in academic talent, attempting to beat her had proved to be pointless as Haruno never really saw that there was a fight in the first place. Her parents preferred her no matter what Yukino produced, or how high she jumped; they would only glance at her consecutive top grades, because Haruno had already achieved that and so instead of it being an achievement for her it was an expectation. Haruno was the eldest, so she had always been the most important. It was as simple as that. That rival had never been found in Yukino's classes either, as she surpassed them without even batting an eyelid, many times to her detriment.

But here, as Kira, she suddenly found herself with an opponent that took her seriously. An opponent that didn't hold back. An opponent that saw and wanted to defeat her, with the very same ferocity that Yukino herself wanted to defeat them. For once in her life, there was a level playing field, and the two occupants of this playing field were both willing and, perhaps most importantly, both brilliant. Both of them had not only the capacity to manipulate but the force of will to do it, and that very force of will meant that no sacrifice was too great. No piece was too important to put on the line. H had most likely gambled one or more innocent lives in his trick in the classroom, with the same ease that Kira herself took lives with the power of the Death Note. In many respects, they were eerily similar, and tailor made for each other in the match they now found themselves participating in.

Her life was on the line, but... No. Because her life was on the line, Kira found herself with a tingling in her stomach. That aforementioned excitement was building and building. It was a thrill akin to the moment before you climb onto a rollercoaster, or perhaps even the moment that you reach the very peak of the slope.

And then, you fall.

She wondered if H was thinking of her in the same way. Did they just feel hatred? A cold, dispassionate desire to win? Or were they as equally enamoured with the exhilaration of their game as she was?

And here it was. Kira's first glimpse behind the smoke and mirrors of that single letter, and the true person behind them. Would it be Hikigaya Hachiman, her boyfriend, who she would get to know better tomorrow? Yuigahama Yui, the popular girl with hidden gifts? Or Hayama Hayato, a person she hated but one with all the required qualities to be H.

She clicked on the email, revealing his third message to her. Her fingers trembled a little breathlessly on the touch mousepad.

'Good afternoon, Kira. This is H. I trust that you're enjoying your Service Club session?'

She poised herself, calculating a response. There was a chance he could be observing her, somehow. Her reactions, both on email and in real life, needed to appear natural.

'Might I inquire whose responsible for this dreadful attempt at comedy?'

'Comedy? I'm being one hundred percent serious, Kira.'

'By accusing me of a being a dangerous mass murderer? I sincerely doubt that. I warn you that I am neither as gullible as you clearly believe me to be, nor hesitant enough to refrain from approaching a teacher about this.'

'Might I answer with a question of my own? What exactly do you find comedic in the deaths of over a thousand people?'

'If you do not have a genuine request for the Service Club, then I will block this address from sending emails to me again and report it to Hiratsuka-sensei. Please express said request in your next email.'

'I do have a request for the Service Club, so there will be no need for that, Kira.'

She had an idea of what this request might be already.

'I'll humour you for the time being, just in case you really do have a valid reason for this correspondence. However, I must insist that you cease addressing me as Kira. Understandably, I found it most insulting that one would liken me to most the dangerous individual on the planet.'

'It is unconditionally arrogant to call yourself the most dangerous individual on the planet. Especially considering the fact we both know I will catch you sooner or later. Then, you will be reduced to yet another maniac in the docks.'

'I am still awaiting your request. Incidentally, I'm beginning to wonder whether you'd even be deserving of my graciously provided charity. You seem far more in need of social etiquette lessons... unless that truly is your motivation for emailing me? In which case, I'm pleased to inform you that you're off to a dreadful start.'

'No. Dishing out etiquette lessons would be very hypocritical of you. But, just what should I refer to you as? Yukinoshita Yukino? The Ice Queen of Sobu High? Or how about God? That is your intention isn't it; to be seen as a God.'

'Just Yukinoshita-san will do fine.'

He took longer to reply this time, no doubt sensing she would not be easily goaded.

'Alright, Yukinoshita-san- since you have offered to grant my request, may I take you up on that?'

'Go ahead, H.'

'Since the first deaths attributed to Kira took place exactly two weeks ago today, I can estimate that was also the day, or at least that was the week, that you acquired the power to act as Kira. I cannot attest to how you commit your murders although I am most intrigued by it. I'm also intrigued by how suddenly you appear to have turned from innocent high schooler to megalomaniac.'

Kira's eyes stopped on the middle of his email. Was it true that they didn't know about the Death Note? She stored the possibility away, in the hope it might prove useful.

'I still fail to see the request in all this monologuing.'

'You've no doubt deduced this much, so there is little point in concealing the fact that I'm also a student at Soubu High. I am working on nobody's jurisdiction but my own; therefore, I just might be a little more forgiving if you were to stop this mindless killing and confess your guilt to me right now. So, here is my ultimatum, Yukinoshita-san: drop this pretence and admit that you're Kira. It's your only chance of escaping from this alive.'

She really hoped that H didn't think so little of her by hoping she would assent. Of course Kira would not confess. She had not killed over a thousand criminals to turn back now.

'Obviously, I cannot grant your request H, though through no fault of my own. Admitting to a crime I had no involvement in would be absurd. But, since you continue to insist on this facade of believing that I am Kira, perhaps I could answer as if were, just to amuse your efforts?'

He didn't send a reply, so she proceeded.

'For starters, you might've had more success fi you made any true attempt to appear as if you were serious in your request. Your language left me feeling antagonised; it is obvious you hold no sympathy towards me despite your contradictory words. I'd feel less safe confessing to you, H, then I would to the police. Hypothetically, of course.'

'You're wrong, Yukinoshita-san. I'd wager that I'm far more sympathetic than any police offer. In some ways, I admire you. Not in the sense that I'd aspire to your level of cruelty, but in the sense that to use your power for such an unassailable aim requires a great amount of resolve. Unless that power granted you some additional mental clarity, its astonishing you'd have the arrogance to endeavour to take on the world.'

'Did you honestly just say that you admire Kira? My word, H- any more statements from where that came from and I'd question your sanity.'

'Of course you would take that as a compliment. When you look on everything you've done, and everyone you've murdered, can you really see only righteousness?'

'Can you really see only evil in Kira's plans, H? Does the world that they've envisioned really only sicken you?"

She decides she has more to say in this regard, so types a second email before he can respond.

'Before we continue in such an insulting vein, H, might I make a request of my own?'

'Go on.'

'As you've probably gathered from my emails thus far, I would openly admit to being nowhere near as nauseated by Kira's actions as others claim to be. Since you appear to be positioned steadfast against them, I'm sure it would be compelling to discuss them without immaturity, entirely for the sake of debate between two measured and intelligent individuals. I find the others in our year to be pitifully lacking in all those qualities.'

'Is there anything to debate? What Kira's doing is evil.'

'But why? There are many times when I have looked at that corrupt politician or that crooked lawyer and thought that no one would mourn them if they just disappeared.'

'And that justifies their murder to you, does it?'

'Yes, it does. A human has a compulsion to aspire to be the best possible version of themselves. If a person has done nothing with their by life but be greedy and violent, then surely they have forfeited their humanity anyway.'

'I agree. The people that you kill are the scourge of this Earth. Perhaps even "evill". I myself have wondered whether I might've considered your course of action if I had your ability, whatever that is. Even at your age, I am sure that we are connected in experiencing the pettiness of people. I too have felt alone and alienated, and wished that the people who brought about that alienation might just disappear. That the world could only be good and virtuous.'

'Then why, H, have you determined to defeat me?

'Because of what you have achieved as Kira, or put better, not achieved as Kira. This is precisely why I want to give you a chance to turn around and go back. I believe that you have made a grave mistake, and that I too were mistaken for making that wish. There is an enormous difference thinking in ideals and seeing them realised. In striving for that virtue and goodness you have created nothing but fear and suffering. I warn you, Kira: you will not cultivate a brave new world because humans will always do evil and be evil beyond description or prevention. Once your power is gone, and the name Kira is but a myth, a relic of the past, humanity will still look identical in its despicable ugliness to the crooks that you kill, because they themselves are human. And the irony, Kira, is that you and I are absolutely no different to them. So give in, Yukinoshita-san. I am not speaking to Kira, to God or even the Ice Queen. If there is anything left of the foolish teenage girl sat at a laptop, then you will listen to me.'

Kira's fingers paused, suspended above the keys of the laptop. Her eyes shone blood red.

'You are nothing but a coward H, and cowardice is a sin in itself. You have forfeited your place in my heaven.'

She paused again, and then sent another email.

'At least, I assume that's how Kira would respond. Did my impersonation impress you?'

H didn't email her again, so after five minutes, she turned off the screen and returned to her reading. It was difficult to concentrate on the words through the surging pumps of her heart. Their latest encounter had, maybe inexplicably, only whetted her appetite for those yet to come. Tomorrow, without warning, couldn't seem to come fast enough.

H left his house at one o'clock that Saturday without telling Komachi or his parents anything about the date. He had allowed himself to sleep in until eleven, mostly because he had found himself awake, sweating, in the small hours of the morning. This had been happening so regularly of late that it was beginning to border on habitual, but last night his mood had been more saddened than brooding.

His email exchange the previous afternoon had once again heightened his senses to the truth behind the figurehead of Kira. In essence, the person he was facing, and not the projected image that she wanted him to believe that he was facing. He had never found it difficult to see Kira as a villain, as merely a serial killer, before that exchange. Now, the boundaries between Kira and student, between murderer and misguided, did not seem quite as blurred; in contrast, they stood tall and firm. Yukino had proven her intentions to be malicious with an enthusiasm so intense that most would disregard her as completely insane and beyond any rescue, but H himself could be both the detective and the young adult, the schemer and the brother, the Machiavellian and the selfless, whenever he saw fit. Sometimes, his performance had been so convincing it became a challenge to figure out which was truth and which was lie even for himself. It seemed not too ridiculous an idea that Kira herself could be drawn into their own performance just as deeply: pulled into their character with all the intense concentration and devotion of a method actor- that she lost something along the way. An innocence that once belonged to her original person, and not to Kira, that was borrowed with no intention of return.

The side of him that pitied and sympathised wanted Kira not to be Kira at all, but a hopelessly misguided Yukinoshita Yukino. He wished that the innocence gifted to everyone at birth still remained with her, hidden away, utilised for improper purposes of deception and trickery by Kira, but nonetheless still very much in existence.

The ruthless side, however, didn't care anymore. Hikigaya Hachiman wanted a resolution, whereas H just wanted an ending. An ending where, preferably, the girl he had come to resent was on the losing side.

It was very probably H that left through the door that afternoon.

Since it was his responsibility to plan the date, he had decided that they would start off with something conventional and then, as it progressed, surprise her with something a little more… intimate. But, for the first stage of their date to go smoothly, he would have to look (and act) the part of an adolescent with a simple crush. He had given his hair a brush for the first time in a couple of months, slicking it over his forehead into something that he hoped was a quiff (fashion had and never would be his strength). He smelled of stolen cologne from his father's bathroom closet, but the smell was very probably pleasant to the nose of one more attuned to such things. He wore a shirt that was smart without being so formal as to invite mockery of a pale white colour, and light blue jeans that fit him well. Overall, a significant change from his regular choice of T-shirt and shorts. This, if one were judging by such superficial standards, was just about as close to a rom com lead as Hikigaya Hachiman could get.

He pulled out his phone as he walked down the street, deciding to double check with Yukinoshita that she knew the location of the cafe he had chosen. It seemed suitably ordinary to choose the very same place that he had overheard her talking with her sister about Hayato. This was only a first date, so they weren't close enough for an upper class restaurant or anything eye-catching just yet. If it went well enough, he would take her to the next place he had in mind, just a couple of streets away.

Hachiman: Hey Yukino! :) Just making sure we're on the same page about place and time? 1:30 at the cafe near Sobu High, right?

Yukino: Indeed. I confess that I've gone over it several times already. I might arrive a little late, but am very excited to get to know you better.

She left a heart emoji at the end of her text. He returned it, hoping he wouldn't vomit while doing so.

Upon arriving at the cafe, he was glad to find that it was only half full and the noise of the conversations hung only lightly on the air waves; nowhere near loud enough to be disturbing but not quiet enough to be awkward. Just as he'd hoped it would be. Deciding he would order when Yukinoshita arrived out of politeness, he headed away from the entrance and chose a table of two in the corner of the restaurant, a couple of tables away from anyone else and warmed by the presence of the radiator beside it. He took off his jacket. It felt homely, a feeling only ripened by the ensnaring scent of the coffee.

He checked his watch. 1:33 PM. Kira would be arriving soon.

H shut his eyes, allowing himself a moment of respite from the tension. It's alright. Calm down. You need to be calm for this. He knew full well that his mind would need to be on red alert, constantly searching for shifts, for changes, as sensitive and reciprocal to Kira as an earthquake receiver. She wouldn't give the slightest tremour to him away, and she could be assured that H would return the favour.

And yet... why was his mind drifting to Yuigahama Yui at a moment as pivotal as this? Why, all of sudden, could he see pink dyed hair fluttering tantalisingly across his vision, and the sound of her voice as she chastised him for something or other. Was she fretting? A stupid question. Of course she was. If it were she out on a date with Kira, then he would be incapable of thinking of anything else. He wondered briefly, and not for the first time, if the unfathomable connection he now shared with Yuigahama would have been possible if it weren't for Kira, and what's more, if this even mattered. Hachiman surely did not care if their... if their friendship, for lack of a better word, was built on a foundation of insecurity and of comforting simply for the sake of there being no else to provide that comfort. It was still a comfort to-

'H- Hachiman!'

H opened his eyes, and the pink-dyed hair was replaced by that of darker shade.

There is an old saying that goes as follows: "beauty is in the eye of the beholder". H, in that moment of looking and seeing Kira before him, doubted the existence of a beholder across the whole wide world who wouldn't perceive this woman as beautiful. If anything, "beautiful" seemed insufficient. It was the first time he had seen her wearing make up: her personality seemed exactly the kind to disagree with feminine items of that nature, and so its spellbinding effect was probably contradictory. But, if that hesitancy even existed, it clearly hadn't affected her in the application process; her eyelashes were accentuated by a delicate layer of mascara that twisted and slicked them upwards, her cheeks polished by a hint of red blush, her lips adorned by a chaste scarlet lipstick, and all these delicate touches brought out the natural perfection of her face so that she seemed peeled straight off a billboard for high end perfume. Her body had always been noticeably slim to H, but that same slender curve of the hip was turned from an imperfection (if indeed it had been that in the beginning) to a defining feature by the pale white dress that clutched her tightly and finished just above the kneecap. It showed just enough of her thighs to leave H feeling lascivious for so much as noticing them, but concealed enough to complete a picture of irresistible, sensuous innocence. A far cry, he knew all too well, from Kira's honest nature, but as ever, a thoroughly convincing illusion.

The kind of illusion you almost wouldn't mind being lost within.

'Allow me to offer my s- sincerest apologies for not being punctual. It's absolutely terrible of me,' came her siren call.

H tried not to notice the way Kira's lips parted to allow the escape of low, raspy pants. They were impossibly tempting. He could sense several eyes from the rest of the restaurant on Kira's bowed shape, and imagine just as easily the kind of thoughts going through their heads.

'That's fine. I only got here a couple of minutes ago I myself,' he replied, allowing his voice to tremble just enough. His cheeks flushed. 'You... look incredible.'

Her own voice did the same. '... Thank you. I w- wanted... I hoped you'd say that.'

H stood up and pulled out the seat for his girlfriend, which she accepted gratefully. The waitress asked for their orders, and wrote down a MAXX Coffee and a cup of peppermint tea respectively. He returned to his seat and suddenly, H and Kira were sat opposite each other, as if a board game lay on the table in front of them.

There was a pause as both of them awaited the first move.

Time to rethink,

And begin with a brand new game plan,

Margin for error is slim,

Kira was very happy with the way that Hachiman reacted to her entrance. She decided it would be perfect to arrive just a little late, if only to draw attention to her carefully constructed appearance and unbalance him mentally. Or rather, physically. For the first time in her life, it seemed that her beauty was to be advantageous to her instead of an invitation for jealousy. H was only a man (if he was Hachiman); an intelligent man but a man regardless, and the majority of them were all the same. Driven and controlled not by the brain, but by another organ located slightly lower down on the human anatomy. Dressing to flaunt her body was certainly not something that she was used to or even enjoyed, but if it helped to give her the upper hand, then her previous insecurities were irrelevant. She picked the dress out on the merit of it being the slimmest cut in her wardrobe, and by far the shortest. The kind of whorish item that Haruno would wear and, incidentally, it was her elder sister who had purchased it for her. She also took some of her sister's make up, practising with and making use of it herself. Looking back at her immaculate reflection in the mirror, Kira couldn't help but be proud. It was an overblown and excessive image, but fittingly divine in its execution.

H, if only instinctively, clearly agreed with her. His eyes had lingered just a little too long on her lips, and the strap of the dress on the right side that lay dangerously close to falling from the precipice of her shoulder.

'I hope that my directions were clear enough?' he asked, voice uncertain.

'I'm sorry if that was why you were late-'

'Oh no, of course not! Y- your direction's were perfectly inadequate- it was my own mistake while following them. Uh... not to say that I'm incompetent, or... ah...' She trailed off, averting her eyes, still blushing. Ridiculous, for she had been to this very cafe several times before.

He offered her a smile. 'Nervous too, huh?'

'Yes. I've never been on a da... done something of this kind before.'

'Well, neither have I, so I guess we're both in the same boat. We can help each other out as we go along, Yukino.'

'Thank you Hachiman, but I can't help but fret regardless. I... sincerely hope that my company is pleasant.'

'Oh, please. I'm the one who should be worrying about being poor company. You're Yukinoshita Yukino! Y'know, only the most amazing person in school.'

'I... I hope you know that the majority, if not all of the rumours that the morons at Sobu High spread about me are untrue.'

'At least they consider you worthy of rumour- people usually talk negatively out of insecurity more than any true dislike. I, on the other hand, might as well be wearing camouflage gear twenty four seven.'

Kira giggled girlishly at the comment. 'I can't disagree with that. I knew of you, of course, but I suppose we are alike in more ways than I thought.'

The humour in Hachiman's gaze evaporated for a moment. 'Have you had an... I mean, ah, do you mind me asking if you've ever-'

'Had any friends?' She drew a circle on the table with her finger, as if it bothered her. 'Not. Not as such.'

'Not even in elementary or middle school?'

'... No.'

'Then we're alike in another respect.' His smile returned. 'You shouldn't let it bother you. Even without truly knowing you yet, I can tell you're worth more than all of them put together.'

'Thank you Hachiman. Th- the feeling is mutual.'

Kira considered reaching out for his hand, but decided it was too early. Instead, she settled for playing with the long strands of her hair, flustered to anyone at a glance.

'The rumours were right about one thing though, Yukino.'

'What's that?'

'You really are the most beautiful girl at Sobu High.'

Most blushing. More playing with the hair. More ushered shows of gratitude. The majority of her reactions were wholly fabricated, but she couldn't deny that many of his compliments were justified. She was indeed the most beautiful girl at Sobu High, and the most intelligent and tenacious and cunning and desirable and, finally, the most powerful. Soon, she would be the most powerful in the whole world too.

But, as Kira chose a moment to take in Hikigaya Hachimanos appearance fully, she couldn't help but think of a few hyperboles of her own. During their initial meeting, her mind had already been overflowing, disturbed by the presence of Class 2F's intruding eyes, so the image she had contrived of him in her head was quite different to the image before her now. It helped that he too had decided to present himself to her in the most pristine condition possible. She recalled noting that both his presence and he himself had been astonishingly unimposing. Scruffy hair, barely presentable uniform, a face that was neither difficult nor easy to look on. But the warm yellow light of the cafe above splashed over the same jet-black hair (which she saw was almost the same colour as her own) and suddenly, she thought it rather striking. The hastiness had been replaced with a firm sense of conviction, and the dead fish pupils were no longer disconcerting but enigmatic, and his shoulders looked broad, begging for the touch of feminine fingers that would trace their outline, caressing down to the bottom hem of his suit.

Kira allowed the shortest of breaths to rush from her lips. She decided that she would much prefer H to be Hikigaya Hachiman than Hayama Hayato or Yuigahama Yui. This wasn't because he was close to being handsome. Not at all. He wasn't boyishly handsome, like the blonde soccer captain, and yet he still brimmed with a strange... not quite the roguish sort, but... an introspective masculinity.

She felt like she knew both Hayato and Yuigahama already, and she did- that is, if they weren't H. But Hachiman? She didn't know him in the slightest. He would be a new and all too enticing adversary.

She's on the brink,

She can win, I can use the same plan,

Time to start thinking like her,

The conversation continued with formalities for awhile. The new couple engaged in them with twinkling and star filled eyes, feigning rapture with the airy flirting, like the details of their counterpart's morning routine were in fact Shakespearean rhyming verse.

H would confess to being hugely frustrated by it all. Kira was keeping the date, so far anyway, grounded firmly in the realm of superficiality; he would have to step up his game if he wished to talk with her about something of real benefit to him. The peppermint tea and the MAXX Coffee arrived and were finished without any progress made. This wasn't the only source of his frustration, however. The longer they lingered in pointlessness, in the cornerstones of regular dates between regular couples, H found himself noticing more and more and more how irritatingly, distractingly attractive Kira was. This was her trap, of course. Though his and Yuigahama's plan had been successful in setting up a shot at capturing the Death Note, it had also given Kira a position of momentary higher ground. They already knew that she was Kira, and she too was aware of their knowledge. She was keeping up Yukinoshita Yukino's image as a means of catching H out, rather than as a disguise. But H? If his disguise, his image, faltered even once…

At long last, he managed to turn the conversation towards family, of which more information could be useful to him.

'So... well, I'm sorry if this sounds intrusive, but I heard from the aforementioned rumour mill that you live in an apartment instead of with your family?'

Kira nodded. 'Yes. It's in a complex only a twenty, thirty minute or so walk away. The views of Chiba from my balcony are quite breathtaking.'

She wouldn't give it up easily. 'It sounds great. I mean, don't get me wrong, I love my family, but sometimes you can't help but wonder if it would be nice to have a little more independence.'

'Yes... I suppose it would seem appealing from the outset.'

'From the outset?'

'Oh, d- don't be mislead. I stand by my decision to move away from my family's mansion; it has granted me with an enormously welcome clarity. A peace of mind, if you will. I find I can concentrate and study more effectively in my apartment, but I'll grant it can get a little lonely sometimes, all alone however many feet off the ground. It feels as if you're ruling a world that only you yourself are aware of.'

And soon, you hope to add to that empire, H thought, with far more cynicism than his expression would suggest. She was refusing to part with any information on the rest of the Yukinoshitas, deftly avoiding the topic. Perhaps if he gave her additional incentive...?

'It sounds like things were a bit rocky with your family? I'm sorry. I know how it feels to be distant from your parents.'

Her eyes, briefly, flashed. He tried to ignore it.

'Yet another similarity between us! It's becoming almost eerie... but it seems the issue we have with our parents are opposites.'

'What do you mean?'

'Forgive me for jumping to the conclusions, but I got the sense that, perhaps, your parents haven't paid as much attention to you as they should? For me, the dilemma has always been an insistence on paying too much attention. They are... the overbearing sort, to say the least.' She sighed. 'It was a relief when I convinced them to let me live on my own for a year.'

'I'd rather have parents who cared enough to interfere than ones who didn't. Sometimes, I go without seeing my parents for days at a time. They're your average, day to day corporate slaves, but... well, I can think of nothing I'd rather be less, but their intentions are good. They make enough to put food on the table and pay the mortgage. But I can't help but wonder how me and Komachi would've turned out if-'

'If they were there?'

'Yes.'

'Every cloud has a silver lining, Hachiman,' she said softly. 'You sound close with your sister. That must amount to a great deal, surely?'

'That's probably true. I'm... not sure I'd know what do with myself if Komachi weren't there.'

He nodded. Inside, he was disappointed. Kira was adamantly refusing to elaborate on her own sibling. If he were to press further, he'd only look suspicious. The door had been closed.

But, H found he disliked that Kira should have the final word. So, deciding to test the waters, he reached over the table, gently touching her fingertips with his own. She seemed surprised for a moment, but took the contact in her stride.

Her index finger ran over the length of his thumb. Kira's skin, peachy white, unbearably smooth, pleasant to the touch. H shivered, despite the boiling heat of the radiator beside him.

At this rate, he would been as insane as her before the date was over.

What would I do if I got inside his head,

Thought like her instead,

Could it be,

Possibly,

I'll catch them when…

'Would you like a bite to eat?' H asked, breaking the contact.

'I had something before I came, so nothing substantial, if anything.'

As she spoke, one of the waiters walked past them cradling a appetising slice of victoria sponge cake. H's attention was only caught for a moment, but it was long enough for Kira. She giggled again. H was becoming accustomed to the difference in her voice, no matter how unnatural it came across- the ice had thawed, and been replaced with a falsely affectionate warmth.

'Do you like what you see?'

'Definitely.'

Yet another giggle from the serial killer. The implication wasn't lost on her.

When the waiter weaved back through the tables in their direction, H stopped them and asked for a slice of the cake. They jotted it down and returned promptly a couple of minutes later with his order. The slight glint in H's eyes wasn't false; his sweet tooth was irrepressible.

Kira leaned forward over the table just as he picked up the fork. 'MAXX Coffee and now cake as well? I think I'm beginning to see the kind of food you like.'

'I admit my diet isn't the best in the world, no.'

H always liked to start off by eating the icing. It was the portion with the most sugar content, and therefore also the best.

'You should be more careful with your calorie intake. Bad habits die hard.'

'All habits die hard, Yukino. Besides, it's actually a well known fact that sugar is an essential energy for your brain. Parents just like to forget about that.'

'Well, I prefer my men to be intelligent, so you'd better eat up.'

His fork paused, just over the top of the sponge, tiny flecks of white icing on the edges of the metallic spikes. Damn it. The comment had come out of nowhere- the words themselves weren't overtly suggestive, but her tone turned from sweet to something a little huskier, and a little lusty, and a little more menacing, off-colour and off-putting. He hadn't expected to start straying into more personal territories so fast. He could just imagine the smugness on her face, but upon looking up, it was gone.

H wasn't to be outdone.

'Would you like a piece?' he asked.

She gasped like a riajuu. Once more, an innocent little dove. 'Oh, I couldn't possibly-'

'-come on-'

'-Hachiman! Girls like me need to watch their figure.'

'And just what kind of girl are you, Miss Yukinoshita Yukino?'

She glanced away, embarrassed. 'I... I didn't intend for that to sound arrogant. You must understand that my family is of... a certain status, I suppose, and there are societal expectations-'

'You're not seriously worrying about crap like that, are you?' H's grin widened teasingly. He probably looked like a cheshire cat. A cheshire cat on the prowl for a bird like, say, a dove. 'Add a little spice to your youth! Or sugar, I guess. Either way.'

She hesitated, as if the matriarch of the Yukinoshitas were standing right behind her. Then, there were two smiling cheshire cats in the cafe.

'Alright, Hachiman.'

The fork, at last, pierced the cake and then H held it out, gesturing to his girlfriend that she should take a bite. Kira leaned forward and opened her mouth, eyes wide like two sapphire full moons, and then closed them over the fork, pulled back, swallowed long, and H cursed himself for wondering which of the two, the cake or her lips, would boast the sweetest flavour.

'It's... delicious,' she whispered.

'I'm sure it would be.'

He fed her another piece, and then she returned the sentiment. Maybe H really had managed to get cast in a romantic comedy film. After the sixth bite, the cake had all but disappeared but for the remaining crumbs on the dish, lingering like smouldering rubble on a battlefield. Some of the shrapnel had also come to rest around Kira's mouth.

'You've got some around here,' H said, gesturing with his finger.

She blinked, and now it was her gorgeous, curling eyelashes that were impossible not to notice. 'Oh! My apologies, do you have a napkin-'

'It's fine. I prefer my women to be dirty, so you'd better leave it as it is.'

Kira's eyes glistened red, close to imperceptible. The grating chuckle emerged again like an unwelcome character's leitmotif in an opera, but the resonance was different this time. A little less controlled. Evidently Kira, not just Yukinoshita Yukino, was enjoying this. And evidently, H himself was not, if the also close to imperceptible tremble of his finger could be trusted. Her eyes remained on his face. She didn't notice his hands (H thought), but it was warning enough, precarious enough, for him to react. This wasn't following the direction that he wished. They could exchange increasingly less subtle innuendos all day and very probably longer, and just as easily end up skewing the line in the sand further, but it wasn't getting him any closer to that shimmering trophy of Kira's apartment. He nodded internally. It was just about time that he hurried their date onward, and retake the ever exchanging, ever altering authority between the two sides.

He took Kira's hands unexpectedly, his grip less slack, less sanitised. She didn't so much as flinch.

'Let's leave.'

'L- leave?'

'Yeah. This cafe's making me stuffy, and besides... I wanna show you something.'

She enforced a firm grip of her own. 'Are you sure? I'm rather enjoying myself-'

'I'd enjoy myself wherever I was if you were there. But...' He paused, before getting up from his seat and moving closer to Kira. Those magnetic lips fluttered like butterfly wings as he lowered himself to her ear and whispered.

'I think you already know how much I like you, Yukino. There's a place, not too far away from here. It's one of my favourite places in all of Chiba. I... can think of no one more perfect to share it with.'

'... I'll ... go anywhere with you, Hachiman.'

He twisted and caught the eye of the waiter, signalling for the bill. Kira protested when he pulled out his wallet, but relented upon his insistence to be a gentlemen. After trapping a hefty yen tip under the empty chinaware tea cup, him and Kira headed back out into the street, arms wrapped around each other as any couple might. The sky was overcast, hinting rather obviously at coming rainfall. H, usually so observant, missed this hint due to a more pressing matter. Quite literally. Kira's hip was painstakingly clear against his own, even through the white fabric of her dress.