Raito was the first one to make it to the restaurant. This was not because he was early. After waiting five minutes for the other three to show up, and seriously considering the fact that they were standing him up, he let the waiter show him to their table. The table the he had reserved because he had assumed that when the other three said they would meet him they meant it.

"I am so sorry," Misa arrived at the restaurant another ten minutes later. "My photo shoot took forever."

"That's fine," Raito said stiffly, deciding against conveying his annoyance.

Misa shrugged off the silk black coat that she had been wearing to reveal a ridiculously skimpy dress. Although the restaurant wasn't cold, her lack of clothing made Raito wonder how she was not freezing. She flipped her blonde hair so that it fell behind her bare shoulders as she sat down in the seat across from him.

"Where are your friends?" she rested her elbow on the table and her head on her hand.

"Late and without an excuse," he brought his line of vision to the menu in front of him.

It took him less then a minute to figure out what he was going to order, but he kept staring at the paper until he had thought up a neutral topic of conversation. He began asking her questions about what she missed most about Japan, and what had made her decide to get into modeling. As she talked, half of his attention span listened to her while the other half tried to figure out a way to get him out of this situation without hurting her feelings.

Yes, he had known that she was interested in him within their first conversation. Misa wasn't the best at being subtle (if her outfit right now was anything to go by) and probably thought that Raito was flirting back. In all honesty, he wasn't. Well, not intentionally at least. Maybe he was being a little too friendly, but that was what Raito always did when he wanted people to like him. With Misa this seemed to work a little too much.

To occupy his mind if nothing else, he considered what would be the worst thing that could happen if he did ask the girl out. Raito was fully aware of how good looking he was and he knew that having a girlfriend could help him keep up a normal appearance for the case. However, the fact that Misa was an up and coming model may counteract his idea of blending in.

When he got down to the wire, the real reason keeping him from dating her was the fact that he wasn't attracted to her. And, even if he was, Raito had never been the sort of person to waist his time on a romantic relationship. He didn't mind spending time with Misa, it was nice to talk to someone who grew up in the same country as he did and he needed one thing in his present life that was not completely connected to solving the murder. Yet, if he were to risk his time and energy with a commitment, it would have to be with someone who he deemed worth it.

"Yes, we know that we're late. You don't have to say anything," Mello said to Raito as he and Matt approached their table.

"Hello to you too," Raito replied sarcastically.

"And that is the largest amount of unprovoked attitude I have ever heard from either of you," Matt must have felt the need to speak up.

"We're Light's weird friends," Mello directed this to Misa, Matt rolled his eyes at his friend's manners.

"I'm Matt," he sat down next to her. "You must be Misa."

Mello slid into the chair next to Raito, making sure to catch his eyes as he did. Mello then nodded his head subtly to Misa and raised both eyebrows. Knowing that he was referring to her clothing, Raito mustered a confused expression but was fairly sure that it came out as uneasy.

"Nice jacket," Misa commented to Mello who was wearing a very expensive looking leather garment. "Is it real?"

"Yes," Mello answered with a degree of pride that Raito could distinguish.

For a brief moment he wondered what the blonde dressed like when he wasn't undercover at a boarding school. It took all of ten seconds for his mind to formulate an image that he would have been far happier not having conjured up. This was not dismissed in the slightest by the fact that Misa and Mello were now having what the two of them seemed to deem a very interesting conversation about their favorite brands that sold leather clothing. Raito stopped listening when Mello explained that "good leather pants can not be bought at men's stores." His gaze traveled to Matt who looked just as bewildered.

It was about ten minutes after their meals had come, that Misa began to direct her attention back to making suggestive eyes at Raito. Deciding to take advantage of the fact that Mello thought he was uneasy, Raito faked an academic emergency to leave early. He knew that only Misa thought that he was telling the truth when he said that he forgot to study for a test that he just realized was taking place the next day. Matt and Mello kept quiet about being able to see through him, both of them thinking that he was panicking over Misa's attempt to seduce him. Alright, maybe 'seduce' was an over exaggeration.

When Raito returned to his room he was once again thankful that he did not have a roommate. He knew that this had to be because L had paid extra for his dorm or done some sort of trick in the school's system to make it look like Raito's room could only hold one student. The extra space and quiet made it easier for Raito to work.

Comfortable with loosing some sleep that night, Raito began looking over all of the information that he had on the first victim. He knew that there had to be something that drew the killer to this first boy, and would need to recognize what that was in order to establish the pattern in victims. Unfortunately, 'everything that he knew' was not very much.

The most peculiar, if not the most important, detail that Raito had been able to find out was that Hadley Jenson had transfer to the school in the middle of the third quarter of that year. The day before Raito had asked L for access to the application that Jenson's parents had sent to the school. Through this he had learned that Jenson was sent to the school on his parent's personal, almost pleading, request. They had not plainly stated why it was so important for him to attend the boarding school, but they had alluded to him needing time to focus on school away from home. They had mentioned that he needed to work through something personal.

Raito had reasoned that the fact that Jenson was new to the school made him an easy target for the murderer. If he had emotional issues that his family had sent him away to over come, it would make him seem like the type to kill himself. Yet, in order to infer that Raito would need to know more about the boy's emotional state.

He quickly typed an email to L—the detective had told him only to initiate a phone call if it was an emergency—and asked if he could have access to Jenson's personal email. If Jenson was communicating to anyone back home reading these emails would give Raito a better idea of how the boy's home as well as school life was.

Raito didn't expect L to respond immediately, since he knew that L had other cases he was working on. So after sending the email he decided to turn in for the night. That was when Mello called him.

"You're such a coward," Mello stated the second that Raito picked up. He sounded more humored than irritated to be stuck with Raito's date for the remainder of the night.

"Sorry," Raito hid his own amusement.

"Lucky for you, I took care of things." He could practically hear the blonde's smirk.

"Should I be scared?" Raito asked.

"No, you should be very, very grateful," Mello's tone was matter-of-fact.

"What did you say to her?" Raito cut to the chase.

"Only that you're a very shy person and that if you're interested you would want to take things slow," Mello explained. "And that she probably freaked you out a little bit."

"Thanks," Raito was surprised that he meant this.

"You know, she's not that bad," Mello continued. "If you're not into her, you should break it off."

"Yeah," Raito did not need to be told this.

"Bye," Mello ended the conversation.

L rarely stayed in the same place for long, but there were certain areas that he preferred over others. New York City was definitely not one of these places. The city was loud and crowded, and it gave L a headache to have to think through the cloud of noise and pollution. If L didn't see the need to be as close to his current case as possible, he would be working three states away. But, if he learned anything from the latest victim, it was that he needed to do everything in his power to find the murderer. If this meant sacrificing his mental health for a few months, then so be it. It wasn't as if that wasn't already in a downward spiral.

Anger coursed through him as he looked over the police reports of the latest death. The woman had been found by her boyfriend lying on the floor of the kitchen in her apartment. The sight of her broken and twisted limbs alone was enough to send the poor man to therapy for the rest of his life. It had been recorded that it wasn't the beating that had snuffed out the woman's life.

It was only in her last moments that the killer had thought it time to spill her blood, cleanly cutting her throat. The shape of the wound was what filled L's mouth with a disgust that no amount sugar could ever take away the taste. The kitchen knife (which the killer had left behind with no trace of DNA) had split her epiglottis in a straight horizontal line. The cut then formed a right angle and continued until it met her chin.

The wound formed the letter L.

Raito had read twenty-five long-winded emails in the past four days.

Jenson's parents rarely sent him any messages. Judging from the few that his mother did write him, it was clear that she preferred to talk to him on the phone. Raito didn't think that the same could be said about the boy's father, and was fairly certain that the man barely communicated with his son at all. The lengthy emails were sent to and from Jenson's sister. Raito wasn't sure on their exact age difference, but picked up on the fact that the girl was still living with their parents. Judging by how close the two siblings seemed, Raito figured that they weren't far apart in age.

In their emails, the sister talked about everything that he was missing at home (Raito found these boring but read them just incase). Jenson's responses were even more depressing that Raito had anticipated. It was clear that the poor kid hated Lowood, most of his peers, and all of his classes. Jenson's mood seemed to slightly improve when he talked about how he had met a girl named Samantha (Raito assumed that she lived in the town he had met Misa). Samantha, or Sam as they referred to her, became a regular topic of discussion, the sister humored the fact that he couldn't stop talking about the girl. It was only after Jenson's first month in the school that he openly acknowledged that he and Sam were in a relationship. After stating this he had added "please don't tell Mom or Dad."

Closing the twenty-sixth email, Raito decided that he needed to clear his head.

Mello had never been a patient person. It had been four days since he had discovered that Ms. Seto was connected to the murders, and he needed someway to jolt her into revealing more. Against his better judgement, he was going to be upfront about this.

"I have a question," Mello stood in front of her desk at the end of class. The last of his classmates had left the room, and Matt lingered in the doorway with a confused expression.

"If it's about the homework, you can see me after school," she didn't look up from the worksheet she was grading.

"Actually, it's not about math," Mello continued.

"Michael, I believe you have another class to be getting to," she told him.

He didn't bother telling her that he had lunch next.

"I know you're new here," he didn't stop speaking. "But have you heard about the suicides?"

Now she looked up.

"There have been a lot in the past few months, haven't there?" Out of the conner of his eyes he saw a look of sheer disbelief on Matt's face. "The thing is, I don't think that they're really suicides. I think they're murders."

"That isn't something that you should declare so lightly," she voice sounded like one of a stern teacher, but the expression of shock on her face gave her away.

"You're right," Mello chanced one more comment. "If someone hears me I might get killed to."

He exited the room before she could send him the the headmaster, dragging Matt behind him as he left.

"What the hell are you thinking?" Matt was angrier than Mello had ever seen him.

"Trying to get a lead," Mello shrugged.

"Four days ago you told me that you think she's the killer!" Matt grabbed hold of Mello's shoulder.

"I'm going to search her room tomorrow," Mello decided. "She's out all day on weekends."

"Are you suicidal?" Matt looked liked he was about to punch Mello.

"No," Mello stopped and gave him a serious expression. "No one in this school is."

As he continued walking, he began to form his plan. He realized that, before he left he would give Roger an accurate report (still exempting Matt). If anything bad happened he would need more than just his roommate knowing who his prime suspect was.

"Michael," Matt's voice was tenser than he had ever heard it before.

"We shouldn't talk about this out here," Mello used this as an excuse to change the subject.

"I'm not done with this conversation," Matt tried, sounding more an more like a pissed off girlfriend.

"Then make your case later," Mello wasn't in the mood to here this.

Raito placed his a Misa's lattes on the cafe table, and took a seat across from her. Misa beamed at him and continued babbling in Japanese. Raito tried his best to follow what she was saying, but he had to admit that her stories bored him. It wasn't like she could tell the difference from when he was engaged in the conversation and when he was zoning out. In his defense, when he wasn't paying attention to her, his thoughts were usually on more important things. What he was going to say in his next update to L, for example.

Both Raito's thoughts and Misa's story was interrupted by Raito's ringtone. Raito pulled his cell phone out of his pocket and glanced at the caller ID. It was L. Since he had told L that it was fine to call him anytime during weekends, and L had told him that if he didn't answer within the first five rings L would automatically assume that Raito was in danger, Raito had to pick up.

The ringer went off for the second time.

"I'm sorry I gotta take this," Raito apologized to Misa.

The ringer went off for the third time.

"But I'm not done telling you what happened yesterday," she pouted.

Fourth time.

"It's important," he assured her.

Raito clicked to answer button just as the fifth ring was going off.

"Hello, it's me," Raito greeted L. He needed to make sure that the almost late answer time was not registered as an emergency.

"Who's calling you, anyway?" Misa asked loud enough that he was sure L and half the cafe could hear her. At least the care patrons didn't speak Japanese.

"My boyfriend."

The words had left Raito's lips before registering with his brain. He quickly wiped the shocked expression from his face, knowing that he'd need to stick with the lie that he had just created. This could be a good thing. At least if Misa thought that he was gay she would stop subtly flirting with him.

"What?" Both Misa and L asked at the same time.

There was no way that this could be a good thing.

"My boyfriend," Raito repeated as if neither had herd him.

"Say that I'm in Japan," L instructed after a sigh and beat of painfully awkward silence.

"He still lives in Japan," Raito told Misa. "It's hard to find times to talk because of the time difference, so I promised that I'd pick up whenever he calls."

"Oh." Misa looked dumbfounded.

"Now get to a place where we can talk without you being over heard," L ordered.

"Okay," Raito said to L. He turned to Misa and added: "I'll be right back."

"Pretend that you're talking to me as you walk away," L said. "Don't make yourself look suspicious."

"Whatever you say, darling." Raito had begun walking, but was still in earshot of Misa.

"Ask me how my day was."

"How was your day, sweetie?" Raito could feel his cheeks burning red in embarrassment.

"Cut back on the endearments," L told him.

"I'll call you whatever I want, lover," Raito had no clue where that one came from.

"Getting a bit possessive there," L drawled. "Are you alone yet?"

"Yeah, now I am." Raito was currently standing in an alley way of a building across from the cafe that he and Misa had been eating at. "Sorry about all that. My friend was being huffy about me answering your call."

"Whatever you need to say to keep your cover is fine by me," L said neutrally. "Although I'm not sure that one was all that convincing."

"I'll give her a rounded story about my supposed boyfriend later," Raito shrugged. "She was probably too shocked to notice how odd I sounded."

"Is there anything new that I need to be aware of?" L brought the conversation back on topic.

"No," Raito told him. "Mello seems fine, still exceedingly bad at making friends, but fine."

"Any new leads?"

"Unfortunately, no." Raito hated admitting this. "I've been going over Jenson's emails, but I haven't found anything big that would make him a potential target."

"I see."

"But I'll have something new soon," Raito assured him. "I feel like I'm on the cusp of something."

"Your eagerness impresses me," L said flatly. "However, since you cannot yet predict the victims, I'm going to have to ask that you keep a closer eye on Mello."

"Of course," Raito agree.

"Please be careful yourself," L added.

"I am being careful, L."

"I would hate to loose my pretend boyfriend," L chuckled.

"Yeah," Raito laughed. "Wait. What should I call you? When I'm pretending, I mean."

"Hmm," L mulled this over. "Ryuzaki."

"Alright, Ryuzaki."

L hung up.

"You're gay?" Misa asked the second that he sat back down at their table.

"Yes," he swallowed the word.

"Oh my God! Why didn't you tell me?" She leaned across the table to playfully swat his arm.

"I was going to." Faking a sheepish expression was all too easy. "I just wasn't sure how you'd react."

"Did you think I wouldn't accept you or something?" she didn't wait for an answer. "Raito, you're by best friend here!"

"Thanks." He took notice that she called him friend now. He should have pretended to come out when he first met her.

"So," she drew out the word and grinned. "What's he like? I want details!"

"He's different," Raito searched his brain for other descriptions for his nonexistent boyfriend. "He's very intelligent."

"Well, obviously," Misa giggled. "What's his name?"

"Ryuzaki."

"Ryuzaki," Misa repeated the name to herself. "Is he hot?"

"He has a nice voice," Raito tried his best to make a lovestruck expression. "Once he starts talking to me, I don't want him to stop. Sometimes the subject matters, but usually it's just the fact that he's talking—that he's talking to me of all people. And I mean really talking, not just going through the motions or skimming the surface of a conversation. I know that everything he voices is something that he truly believes, and he trusts me with his opinion."

"That is the most beautiful thing I have ever heard," Misa was gaping.

"Thanks," Raito's eyes met his shoes.

Where the hell had all of that come from?

"I'm not letting you do this," Matt stood between Mello and the doorway. "It's stupid. You're just giving her another reason to kill you."

"She'll be in jail before she has the chance to touch me," Mello dismissed. "We're never going to get anything done if we don't take risks."

"I'm not going with you," Matt seemed to think that this would make a difference.

"Okay," Mello placed his hands on his hips, sizing his friend up. "Do what you want."

"You are crazy, aren't you?" Matt apparently was trying a different approach now. "Do you not understand how real this is?"

"Do you?" Mello countered. "We've been sneaking into crime scenes and planting bugs in people's clothes. Does searching a suspect's room really make it that much more scary to you? Why on Earth did you sign up for this if you didn't think that I was crazy?"

"You're incredibly rash, you know?" This came out in a low voice. There was no threat to Matt's words, but Mello could hear something else that he was unable to read.

"You're not the first person who's said that to me," he pushed past Matt and to the door of their room. "And you're not going to be the last."

"Michael—"

"If I don't come back, then you were right and you should go to the police." He added this only to prove to the other boy that he was not completely thoughtless. "Make a big fuss about her being the killer."

Matt was silent, but Mello didn't bother waiting around for a response. If it came to that, Matt would do as Mello instructed. Wether he was happy about it or not.

Not wanting his promise of having something new soon to go to waist, Raito spent the rest of the day reading the remained of Jenson's emails to his sister. To his surprise the last email that Jenson sent did allude to the boy killing himself. This explained why the family had accepted the death so easily. Raito had to assume that the killer had read this email, but would have thought that he or she would have wanted something more noticeable.

Raito tried to read the online letter as if it was just one of the depressed boy's daily updates, but the more he did the more it sounded like he was saying goodbye. What struck Raito as odd, and would have offended him were he in the sister's position, was that Jenson talked more about Sam than about the girl he was sending the email to. The email was full of statements like "Sam will be upset" and "I'm worried about how Sam will take it."

Raito would go over things again before he updated L.

The woman who's real name was not Asaka Seto knew that the boy who's real name was not Michael Keller was in her room. Or rather, she knew that he had been there an hour after she left campus. If he had the courage to enter in the first place, she didn't doubt that he'd have the will to stay as long as he needed to. This didn't bother her. She would let him have his fun. She knew that he suspected her.

"Michael" and his friend didn't worry her. After the stunt with the recording device, she knew that they weren't acting alone. Two teenagers trying to play detective would not have had access to that kind of technology. She didn't know who sent them, but soon she would. After they had conducted their search, she suspected another confrontation. This was good, it would save her the trouble of approaching them herself.

If someone of a lower IQ searched her apartment, it would make her look even more suspicious. But those two were not stupid, and soon they would know all that they needed to.

"Asaka Seto" had not committed any of the murders. But she knew who had. From the very beginning she had known who had.

Alright, maybe she hadn't been completely certain, but she wouldn't be at the school in the first place if she didn't feel very strongly that she was right. Had she Michael's resources, she was sure that she would have solid evidence by now. Unfortunately, she was at the school and on the case by herself. Not like anyone would have helped her, when she made her suspicion known no one took her seriously.

After the break out, they had all coined her paranoid and grasping at straws. They said that she only thought that this was the work of that convict because she wanted so desperately to him to by caught again. She knew that they had, even if all but one person had refused to say it to her face. The fact that it was the man she was about to marry who had been blunt with her only made things worse. Not that she hadn't been blunt back. Only over the plane ride to England did she regret saying to his face that she knew she was smarter than him, telling him that she had always been smarter and better at their job—better at her former job…

Getting the position of maths teacher was easy. Not many teachers had responded to the application, and that fact that she was American hadn't seemed to matter to the headmaster. What mattered more was her degree in mathematics, which she had been able use despite her fake name.

Her fiancé hadn't wanted her to go. He hand't called her since she left. She didn't call him either, but she sent him a letter every Saturday. Each one contained both an apology and a reassurance that she knew she wasn't crazy. She was right about this, and soon he was going to realize that. Only vaguely did she recognize that being right may have cost her that relationship.

Today she had gotten a late start to her Saturday routine, only leaving Lowood in the late afternoon. She had done this to assist Michael and his friend with breaking into her room, since there would be less teachers around to catch them at that time. She hadn't yet gone to the postoffice, although that was usually the first thing that she did. Today she'd had tests to grade and information to mentally process. Because of this she had spent her afternoon in the quietest cafe the town had to offer.

Now it was getting late, and she decided that she was heading back wether or not Michael was still in her room. By now the postoffice was closed, so she would have drop off her letter Sunday morning. Yes, it still would be closed, but she could drop the letter into the public box outside. She made it one block away from the cafe before feeling eyes on the back of her head.

It wasn't Michael tailing her the way that he had the week prior. If the boy was done searching her apartment, then he wouldn't feel the need to hide from her. If he had decided to forego his plan, he wouldn't risk following her at a late hour.

This meant that she would have to assume the worst: the murderer had found her.

She was going to die. That was as definite as it was terrifying. The only thing that had kept her alive this long was the fact that she had gone unnoticed by him. She knew that as soon as he knew she was on the scene he would want to eliminate. Taking the job may have seemed foolish because of this, but she had held on to the hope that his focus and eyes had been on the students only. She'd thought he had ignored the staff all together. Maybe her former colleagues were right about her mental capabilities slipping…

No. If the next few minutes were going to be her last she was no going to think self deprecating thoughts. Especially now that she knew she was right.

This would be her last moment, and there was no way around it. If she tried to get back to campus, there was a chance that the killer would let her make it to her room. What if Michael was still there? She didn't need to endanger him anymore than he was already endangering himself. She needed a plan.

She quickly changed her course and walked into another more crowded coffee shop, and stepped into the line. As subtly as possible, she pulled out the letter to her fiancé and the pen she had been using to write grades. Carefully, she opened the envelope and pulled out the letter. On the it's blank back she hastily scrawled "I was right. Tell someone. I'm sorry. I love you." She had it back into the envelope and sealed with a piece of portable scotch tape before reaching the front of the line.

With a useless cup of coffee in her hand, she made her way to the closed postoffice. It seemed that everyone had gone home of the night, but she did her best to stay in lit and slightly populated streets. Her shadow was less than a block behind her, and she needed to get her letter mailed before he decided to pounce.

It was just her luck that the entire block was barren. When the building was in her line of vision, it took all of her will power not to break into a run. Going to the second coffee shop was suspicious enough. She couldn't give the killer any hints as to what she was doing. When she opened the slot on the public mailbox, she forced her trembling hands steady. She slid the letter in, not able to hear it hit the bottom over the pounding of her own heart.

I'm sorry. Her mind echoed her last message to the man who might have married her.

It was when she turned away that she felt something hard collide with her left shoulder.

He had waited for the precise moment to attack. He expected more of a fight from her. He craved it.

Killing depressed boarding school students bored him. They rarely struggled hard enough and begged the entire time for mercy. The begging was irritating and anticlimactic. None of the school boys could quench his thirst for a real death. A death that meant something to both him and the victim.

He had just been a monster to those boys, but to this woman he was human. A psychopathic maniac, but one that she had thought she could best. She thought that she could outsmart him. She thought that she could catch him like the crawling dog she thought he was. Like the crawling dog she knew he was.

Yes. He would enjoy this.

She had thrown her coffee backwards at him. He didn't suppress his giddy laugh as the liquid stung his skin. He had expected the kick that followed, but let the heel of her boot make contact with his stomach anyway. She used this as an opportunity to stand, favoring the shoulder that he had punched. He let her get a few more blows in before cheating and pulling out his knife. His hand moved so quick and elegantly that he wished that there was spectator to admire his technique.

She crumpled to the ground, in too much pain to notice his skill. He didn't blame her. Her shiny leather clothes were now glazed over in patched by a deep red. He had made sure not to hit too vulnerable of a spot. He didn't want her to die of internal bleeding. That was no fun.

He expected her to scream. She didn't. This was slightly disappointing. He had been ready to cover her mouth. He knew full well that she would only bite his hand.

Instead of dwelling on this, he made the best of the situation and proceeded to break into the postoffice. He used the but of his knife to shatter the glass. Once he had made a solid crack it was easy to push the shards into the building with his gloved arms. They fell with little resistance. He did receive a few cuts in the process, but they were worth it.

He returned to the woman and dragged her into the building. It took two hands to carry her, so he had to return his knife to his pocket. She tried to push him off. He admired that she didn't give up. Admiration was not enough to let him spare her. She knew too much and he had been anticipating this for too long. This woman was meant to die this night. Even as she fought, he was sure that she knew this on some level.

The back office was his ideal location. He dropped her in the middle of the floor. He pulled out the knife again. It had been so long since had inflicted the full extend of pain on his victims that he was capable of. He itched to show her exactly what happened to those who tried to catch him.

But he would not do this tonight. If anyone deserved his respect it was this woman. He wouldn't inflict anymore pain than was necessary. Though he doubted she would see his method for her murder as mercy.

He didn't have any rope to bind her. Fortunately, he knew which nerve to sever to paralyze her legs. He made the first cut swift. Her face contorted in pain. He didn't need to impair the other. She wasn't going anywhere.

He reached into his pocket to pull out his surprise. He met her eyes as he did so. The pain was still apparent, but he could read the hate as well. A cold smile curled on his lips.

"Don't think you've won." She ordered this in a soft hiss.

"She speaks yet says nothing." He recited, playing the mad man she believed he was.

He finished the job and left the building through the back exit. Still smiling.

This chapter was the most fun to write so far! I worked a lot on the syntax when writing for the killer, and, well, who doesn't enjoy writing in the POV of a murderer. Points to anyone who recognizes the quote the murder recited at the end (it's from a very know play but not an often used quote).

Review responses:

Bluxpudding, I'm glad that you're enjoying this fic! I've been trying to make the chapter longer and more eventful, thanks for noticing!

Guest, well you were right about her being an undercover agent. The In Person sequel is currently in the works (I like to have most of my first draft of a fic done before I start posting), Thanks for asking, you actually motivated me to work on it more.

Kiii, you also right about Ms. Seto, thanks for predicting! No need to apologize for the wall of text, I love long reviews and any sort of feedback!

Wizard-Party-Forever, I'm happy you like the MxM. Light definitely hasn't come as far as Mels, and you're definitely right in thinking this will upset his competitive nature if/when he finds out. Thanks for the review!

SadlyNotLawliet, thanks for your review, you were right about Ms. Seto being connected to the killer!

Thanks to everyone reading! I'll see you next chapter!