I hid behind a turn in the corridor, gaze locked onto the door of Room 302. Today was the day that the 'Second Kira' videos would air, according to the timeline I was given, and I had decided that I would tag along with Uncle Soichiro for two reasons: One, to make sure he didn't overexert himself (and if he did, I'd be there to contact the hospital for medical help immediately), and two, if I could make contact with Misa, I could get more even footing in the game.

Light had left to go home about an hour ago, but I'd stayed a while longer with Aunt Sachiko, who had just stepped out of the room. I'd left the room a few minutes before the broadcast had started, under the pretense of needing to use the bathroom. I checked my watch. Any moment now . . .

The hospital room door was thrown open, and Uncle Soichiro bolted out, heading down the stairs towards the car park.

I ran after him without hesitation, making sure to stay just out of his line of vision so he couldn't tell me to go back. Then, just as he was about to get into the police van that was parked there—why there was a police van in a hospital car park, I didn't know—I yelled, "UNCLE SOICHIRO!"

His attention immediately shifted to me as I ran up to the van, getting in the passenger seat before he could argue. "Kimiko—?"

"You're stopping the broadcast, right? I'm coming with you."

Uncle Soichiro seemed to have already realised that I wasn't planning on taking no for an answer, and the more precious time we spent arguing, the longer it would take to shut down the broadcast. "Alright, come in, but keep your face hidden."

"Got it." But even if Misa saw me, I don't think the Death Note would work on me, considering I was already 'killed' by a Death Note before. In essence, I should be immune. But even if I'm not, I need to be able to sympathise with her before I reveal my name to her. She shouldn't be able to see it for the time being, so I should be perfectly safe.

Uncle Soichiro started driving, a steely glint in his eyes as he stated, "What Kira is doing now is absolutely unforgivable. He's brainwashing the world. This broadcast needs to be stopped."

I nodded. "So, what's your plan to stop it?"

"We'll have to convince them to hand over the tapes—by any means possible. Even if it means threatening their lives."

I swallowed the lump in my throat. "I see."

"Ordinarily, I wouldn't have resorted to this, but this calls for desperate measures. There are some sacrifices that need to be made when it comes to what's right." His tone was firm, even seeing my discomfort at the possibility of having to be ready to pretend to shoot people just like that.

"I'll have to remember that," I murmured softly under my breath. My phone chimed with a message at that moment.

coffeelight:
Where are you right now?
Mom just called and asked
if you'd gone back home.
Dad's gone missing too.

"Uh . . . Uncle Soichiro? Light's just sent me a message asking where we are. Aunt Sachiko knows we left."

Uncle Soichiro pursed his lips, staring hard at the road ahead. "Just keep him from worrying."

"Gotcha."

icysapphire13:
He's with me, don't worry.

coffeelight:
Okay, but where are you?

icysapphire13:
We're safe, there's nothing
to worry about.

I'll tell you when we get back

coffeelight:

Please don't tell me you're
doing what I think you're
doing.

"He's getting suspicious," I said aloud.

"Turn off your phone," Uncle Soichiro said, and before I did, I sent Light one more message:

icysapphire13:

Sakura TV

Later, I'd probably have hell to pay with Light for agreeing to do something so reckless and not trying to discourage his dad from doing it in the first place, but I'd cross that bridge when I came to it.

Maybe L and the task force will let me live in their headquarters like a shut-in. Then again, that meant having to live with L. And skipping going to To-Oh, which would be hell for my record. What are we even going to do about skipping during the Yotsuba arc?

I was quickly brought back to reality by the sound of glass shattering. We're in the building. I pulled my hood over my head, yanking on the strings to obscure my face with the hood as much as possible as we both got out. Not that I need to . . . though I'm surprised he isn't making me wait in the van. Maybe he thinks I'll be safer where he can see me?

"Where's the studio airing the Kira video?" Uncle Soichiro half-shouted, making me wince slightly.

"U-uh, second floor, studio G-6," he stuttered. Uncle Soichiro nodded, and beckoned for me to follow him. I briefly wondered what the man had made of my own entrance, but promptly brushed it off. Now isn't the time.

From the corner of my eye, I caught a flash of blonde hair ducking behind a pillar as we headed into the studio. So I was right. Misa's here—of course, I don't really think she'd have access to surveillance cameras. Keeping an eye on the windows, I raced up the stairs.

"Police!" Uncle Soichiro declared, throwing the studio doors wide open. "Stop this broadcast immediately!" he shouted, so loud it made my ears ring.

The guy in charge—Demegawa just turned to face him, arms crossed and eyes glazed.

"I said,"—his voice took a dangerous tone—"stop the Kira video, now!"

"Just wait a minute, detective . . ." Demegawa stammered, spared a glance at me (I tried fixing him with a glare), then his eyes flitted back to Uncle Soichiro, clearly the bigger threat. "If we stop this video, we'll all be killed . . ."

"I don't want to hear your excuses! An innocent man is dead!" Uncle Soichiro shouted. Right . . . that Ukita guy . . .

My gaze flitted to the window again. "There's a police car on it's way here," I said calmly. "If this goes on for much longer, there'll be a lot more than just one innocent man." Does this qualify as a threat? I wonder.

"Uh . . . um, today's video just finished . . ." one of the men said, turning to Demegawa.

"So, it's you, is it?" Uncle Soichiro turned to face Demegawa. "You're that Demegawa who's been playing the Kira case for all it's worth, putting out all those specials in spite of all the warnings we issued? You think the whole thing's very funny, do you?"

I nodded. I'd done a little background check on Demegawa before today, partly out of curiosity and partly to prepare for any confrontations. "Yeah, that's him. Hitoshi Demegawa, thirty-eight years old, born in Osaka on April fourth, received a total of thirteen warnings from police officials for exposing unreliable details concerning the Kira investigation. Is an avid Kira supporter and believes that praising him publicly will attract more viewers to Sakura TV, thus resulting in more income."

Demegawa looked thoroughly spooked. "I—I had no idea it would turn into something like this, I swear! Go easy on me, sir . . . and, uh, miss," he added, laughing nervously.

Why does it feel so weird that I'm acknowledged for doing something now? That I'm . . . actually involved?

"That director they said Kira addressed the package to—that was you, too, wasn't it?"

"Yes . . . it was . . . ?" Demegawa said meekly.

"Give me those tapes. Give me the whole package, exactly as you received it."

"B-but . . . like I said . . . if I do that, we'll all be killed . . ."

Uncle Soichiro reached into his pocket and pointed a gun at Demegawa. "Hand it over. You do that, at least you won't be killed this very minute."

Did he . . . since when did he have a gun on him? There's no way it was there with him at the hospital, right? Was it in the van? I didn't even see him take it . . .

"What the . . . what the heck do you think you're doing? Hey! Are you crazy?" Demegawa almost screamed. Right, gun. Get with the program, Kimiko. Guns are dangerous. Why am I not saying anything? I need to say something!

"I'd watch what you say, Mr Demegawa, to a person who's holding a gun to your face—especially when he's the chief of the police."

Demegawa's eyes widened almost comically.

"This," Uncle Soichiro said, his voice deadly calm, "is the direct result of you putting out all those shows and treating Kira like some kind of star. I'd say you're reaping what you sowed." He paused, probably debating something mentally, then said, "If, after watching all the tapes, I decide it's okay to air them, I'll return them to you."

Demegawa gritted his teeth, still shaking, then relented. "All right, all right . . ." He went over to a desk nearby, picked up four cassettes, an envelope, and some paper, and plonked them on the table in front of us. "That's the envelope they arrived in, the two pages of text"—both were printed, not handwritten—"and the four digital videos. That's all we got." He's really pushing it . . . so if he sounds so uncertain, that means he's hiding something.

Obviously, Uncle Soichiro had the same train of thought as he lifted a cassette to his face. "These do look like they're the master tapes, but . . . are you trying to tell me you aired the original . . . ?" He froze in realisation, and whipped the gun back out before I even had time to blink. "Hand over the copies you made. Every single one of them! And don't try to play dumb with me!"

He's pretty scary when he yells like that, I thought numbly. I wouldn't want to see Light like that, either.

"Okay, okay . . . I'll get them . . . I'm getting them out, all right?" he stammered, leaning over a duffel bag. "Just do me a favour and stop waving that gun around—your eyes are totally insane!"

"Did you really think you could get away with not handing over the tapes?" I asked incredulously. "You do realise that if you'd aired any of them after this incident, you'd be arrested on the spot, right?"

Demegawa clicked his tongue, muttered something about "stupid brats" and "selfish-ass police", but shoved the tapes into my hands—he seemed intent on avoiding Uncle Soichiro.

When we were leaving the studio, I tightened my hood again, just as I saw a flash of movement by one of the windows nearby. There's no way that was an employee here. That's gotta be Misa . . .

I nudged Uncle Soichiro lightly. Keeping my voice down, I whispered, "I think I saw someone over there. I'm gonna keep my face hidden and check it out." Before he could object, I said, "If I can see who Kira is, we could finally put all this to an end. In the meantime, can you call Ryug— Ryuzaki? It doesn't look like we'll be able to get out through the front entrance again . . ."

Uncle Soichiro sighed. "Be extremely careful, and don't get spotted."

"Gotcha." I took off in a light jog, making sure to tread lightly so my footsteps couldn't be heard too well. Man . . . imagine how Light would react to me knowing Misa before him . . . I paused. I could ask Kyoko, actually. She ought to know, since apparently, in her universe, I was in the original manga. Momentarily, I regretted not saving her number when she'd called me.

Another set of footsteps—slower and louder than mine—made me slow down to a brisk walk, and just as I turned the corner, I was met face to face with Misa Amane.

Admittedly, the first thing I noted was how tiny she looked. Of course, given my own heritage, I was definitely taller than the average Japanese woman (I was almost the same height as Light—I was 168 centimetres tall while Light stood at 171 centimetres), but I wasn't sure Misa even reached 150 centimetres.

"Who are you?" Misa tilted her head sideways, the picture of innocence, tapping her pen—a cute pink one with a Rilakkuma keychain hanging off the edge—against her lip.

I ignored her question. "So, you noticed me coming?" I'll have to spook—or at least startle—her a little. "Or was it Rem?"

It was surprisingly hard to tell whether or not it worked. Misa looked confused. "What are you talking about?" I didn't realise just how good an actor she is. I got cocky when I realised I could decode Light, but now it's clear that that's because I know him so well.

"Believe me," I said, "if I didn't already know about Death Notes and Shinigami, I wouldn't be confronting you about this, Misa. May I please talk to Rem?"

She debated this for a second. "Pull off your hood first."

I don't have anything to lose, I figured, doing just as she asked.

Misa gasped as her eyes darted to the area above my head, clearly seeing no name or lifespan there. "But . . . how?"

I spread my arms wide. "I'm already dead. You don't need to think too deeply about it, though I could explain some other time, or you can ask Rem. But know that everything I'm about to tell you is true, and I need your cooperation here."

Misa's eyes narrowed, but she nodded nonetheless.

"Misa, there's a reason you got that notebook. Same as Kira. We're not meant to be enemies. I don't want us to be enemies, okay?" I tried to give her my gentlest smile as I took a step closer and placed a hand on her shoulder.

Misa stiffened lightly, but made no move to struggle.

"Listen to me, Misa. The notebook you were given only has one purpose, and that is death. There's only one way that it can be used for good, and that's when it is to protect the innocent."

Misa nodded slowly. "Kira protected me," she admitted.

"He did, didn't he? But you know, Kira isn't the only one. I don't know if Rem told you this yet, but that notebook of yours used to belong to another Shinigami, who gave his life for you when you were going to lose your own. And perhaps you can use it the way he did, the way Kira is. But you have to listen to me first, okay?"

I couldn't help but notice that Misa leaned a little into the touch before she nodded, glanced to her side, and pulled out the Death Note from her handbag. "Here," she said quietly.

I laid a knuckle of my pinky finger along the unbound edge of the notebook—the easiest way to touch it as little as possible to avoid getting any fingerprints or DNA on it.

Rem appeared a step beside Misa, towering over the already tiny girl, a skeletal off-white-and-purple figure with a yellow catlike eye so watchful and wary, it felt as though she were recording my every movement.

I smiled. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Rem," I said politely.

"Likewise," Rem replied, though it didn't sound very likewise at all.

Before I could say more, I heard footsteps a short distance away—and a cursory glance at my watch told me I'd been gone for too long. "Damn," I muttered. "Misa, Rem," I then said, redirecting my attention to them, "if you need to contact me, I attend To-Oh University; Rem can find me there on Mondays to Saturdays. Send Rem with your phone number, too. I have to go before the police get here. Stay safe."

I pulled my hood back up and turned to leave, when Misa's voice rang out a little too loudly. "Wait!" A pause, and her voice quieted. "What's your name?"

I shook my head. "It won't work if you try to put it in the Death Note."

"No, not for that . . . I . . . I want to be able to talk to you. So we can be friends." Her voice was quiet, unassuming.

Unwillingly, I was reminded of how she leaned into my hand when it was on her shoulder. Aside from Rem, she's alone, isn't she? She's got no one.

"Kimiko," I said without elaborating, and without waiting for a response, I stepped back into the shadows and ran back to where Uncle Soichiro was waiting.

"Any luck?" he asked, an ember of hope clear in his eyes. He really doesn't want to have to come to terms with the idea of Light being Kira . . .

"No, I thought I saw someone, but . . . I guess not," I lied, watching those embers flicker. I'm sorry, Uncle Soichiro.

He sighed. "I'm not surprised, but I'm just glad you're safe." He looked towards the front entrance of the studio as he continued, "I talked to Ryuzaki. He said that in"—he checked his watch—"another minute, we should head out through the front entrance."

"The what?" I protested, trying to draw up the most appalled expression I could muster.

"I'm sure Ryuzaki has a plan," Uncle Soichiro said, looking more like he hoped Ryuzaki had a plan.

Speakers blared from outside. "I take it that's our cue?"

Uncle Soichiro nodded, standing up— only to trip and almost collapse.

I rushed towards him, slinging one of his arms around my shoulders as I tried to support his weight. "Let me help," I said.

Obviously, he was in no position to argue—after all, this was part of the reason I'd come in the first place; to make sure that Uncle Soichiro didn't injure himself or worsen his condition exponentially with today's heist.

As much as I'd have liked to stop him from going altogether, this event is crucial to the plot—I'm too late to try and convince Light to get rid of his Death Note, but had Uncle Soichiro not come today, zeroing in on Misa (for both the Task Force and myself) would have been a lot harder. And in canon, Misa did kill a fair number of innocents to get to Light, if I remember this right. I can't let that happen again, like it did with the FBI agents.

"All right, stay close together!" The words blared from an overhead speaker. "Do not open the smallest gap! Do not show yourselves! Kira is not here in the building! If he's here, he's outside!" If only they knew. But how is Misa gonna get out of there?

There was an officer waiting outside—I'd forgotten his name, but his expression said: What's a kid like you doing interfering with such a dangerous case? He and Uncle Soichiro exchanged a few words, I took a seat in the passenger side of the car, and Uncle Soichiro drove to wherever headquarters was.

A few moments later, he asked, "How did you get all that information on Demegawa?"

Knew this would come. "Sakura TV's already been making a splash in the media," I said, "and with all the Kira discourse they were starting, Light and I had to look into it." That, at least, was true—thanks to Sakura TV, there'd been a huge surge in Kira's popularity, and it was definitely worth taking note of. "We managed to find out a little bit about the warnings he's been given, but all his personal information is up on Sakura TV's site."

"I see," Uncle Soichiro sighed, then pressed his lips together. "With all the specials they do on Kira, one would think they would be less . . ."

"Bull-headed? Idiotic?" I offered.

"I was going to say 'careless', but your iterations are closer to what I was going for," Uncle Soichiro smiled, albeit somewhat wryly. A weighted pause. "So you and Light are already looking into the case?"

"Not since you were hospitalised," I admitted truthfully. "Plus, university's been pretty hectic lately, so we haven't had all that much time since the first day to think too much about it. But yeah, we were trying to find Kira on our own, though we weren't putting too much effort into it because of our entrance exams earlier."

"So that's how it is," Uncle Soichiro said to himself.

After a few moments of silence I decided to ask the question that had been prodding at me for a while. "Where'd you get the gun from? And . . . if they had refused, would you have shot them?"

"The gun was in the overhead compartment in the van," Uncle Soichiro said, "and no, I wouldn't have shot Demegawa or anyone else. I never planned on using it for anything other than threatening them." His tone was absolute, unwavering—he meant every word of it. Relief coursed through me.

Then, tentatively, I asked, "What if it was Kira?"

"Huh?"

"What if we had seen Kira in the flesh? Would you have shot Kira, then?"

Uncle Soichiro stopped to think. "Not lethally. But yes, I would have shot him if I knew it was Kira there, to prevent him from escaping."

My had subconsciously drifted to my shoulder, echoes of my own bullet wound ringing in my arm. "Have you ever been shot before, Uncle Soichiro?"

"Once or twice," he said, glancing towards me slightly. "Once in an arm and the second time in the leg."

"Ah. That must have hurt." I know it did.

A dry laugh. "Indeed."

"But you definitely wouldn't have killed Kira?"

Uncle Soichiro's eyes shifted back to the road. "I wouldn't stoop to the level of a murderer."

"Hmm." The rest of the car ride was in silence.

So, I know it's been a good while since I last updated - or, at least, I know my updates are more sporadic than usual - but IBDP is doing a number on me right now, so time is a pretty big issue. I've also got my term exams coming up now over the next three weeks, which studying for will probably take away any and all free time I might have, so I'll likely have to make you all wait another four weeks for the next update. Thanks for your patience!