A/N: Whoa Nelly! Look at all that positive feedback. You guys are just.. stupendous. I am totally serious when I say this. Thanks times a bil, yo'.

It took me a long time to choose which version of the song I wanted to put on this chapter, for some reason. I was originally going to do it from the woman's POV (the "Oh Mother tell.." would be "Oh tell my baby sister not to do what I have done. But shun that house in New Orleans they call the Risin' Sun.") Not much of a dilemma, but I made it one for some reason. Such a lovely song..

Disclaimer: Trust, I don't own. Death Note is not mine, regrettably so. Neither is 'The House of the Rising Sun.' Oddly enough, that's an American folk song that's been adapted into mainstream pop culture via such talents as Bob Dylan, and the Animals.

"Oh mother tell your children
Not to do what I have done
Spend your lives in sin and misery
In the House of the Rising Sun"

Rage can very rarely be defined on a perpetual scale of emotion.

Though, at the moment, Beyond was sure that if someone had attempted to measure the pure, seething anger that coursed through his body, it'd be the equivalent of a 10.0 on the Richter scale.

Adrenaline coursed through his stilled body, causing trembles to dance around in his muscles. He wanted, with all of his might, to rip that tongue out of the boy's mouth and hang him from said organ. It would be something that would've pleased him greatly.

But that course of action would, of course, ruin his true intention: getting L. So he made haste to banish the thoughts from his mind. He'd find a better way to kill that Yagami kid, later.

Bringing his bloodied thumb to his lips, he continued to watch the live feed of the video cameras with renewed interest. Though things had become monotonous: L and the Yagami brat were talking about something useless, that odd (or semi-retarded?) detective was still just gawking at thing air- or, what Beyond presumed, was that "Death God" they were all speaking about. The old fart was glaring at Lawliet's back, the afro-man was trying to get a word in edge-wise with the detective, while the large buffoon actually did his job.

Beyond rolled his eyes and spun around once in his seat, turning back in time to see L smile at something the young Japanese kid had said. It seemed that Lawliet had learned to forgive and forget.

How quaint, Beyond thought with a chortle, his bare toes rubbing together in glee.

L allowed a faint smile to grace his lips as the teenager beside him uttered something completely out of the blue. Even if his first and only friend was Kira, it would do no harm to attempt to enjoy some of his company while he can.

The reason for that logic was the fact that L knew. He understood that, from hereon, out, that things would only become more tense and insufferable; that he and Light would constantly be waging war with each other, and knew that L was the one to lose, though, in the end.

It had become obvious that he would not win. While Light had lost his memories, he had managed to rally the entire task force behind him. If L even attempted to make another Kira accusation, it'd most likely end in disaster.

Time like these made him wish that he had taken the time to present himself nicely. Human beings were shallow, appreciating the beauty of the outside versus the beauty of the inside. Working with such people, L had known, would only be in vain if the suspect was too beautiful for the accusation.

Thus was the case with Light.

It was obvious that L was a genius, but one did not have to be a member of Mensa International to see the blatant facts and testimonials that led directly back to the beautiful young teen. L wanted nothing more than to blind the team and scream the hardcore evidence in their faces. Yell and degrade them until they realized the faults they had made in assessing Light's character.

But, to his chagrin, he could not very well do such. He would not lose his cool around a bunch of so-called "men of the law." L Lawliet had his pride, and would not attempt to do something so childish as to humor these men.

It had come as a kind of acceptance that he, regrettably, was forced to accept. He would not, of course, go down without a fight: he planned on doing everything in his might to pick and pry at Light's composure before his death, and uncovering as much as he could before he passed his information onto his successors.

L relaxed when he thought of the Whammy boys: if Kira had thought L to be a nuisance, he might just give himself a heart attack when the boys were thrown into the mix. Said fact would most definitely run true if the boys could somehow find a way to look past the disagreements and work together. But he know that would never happen.

L glanced over at Light, who was resting his head in his hands as he read over a file with faked-diligence. Suppressing a snort, L took a deep breath and stood up. "Would Light-kun care to accompany myself as I care to my hunger in the kitchen?"

He saw the refusal in Light's eye as the teen turned to him, but the detective blessed him with his most innocent, wide-eyed look: looking like a small, beaten and starved orphan-panda hybrid.

And it seemed that even Kira could not resist the look, for the boy sighed and stood with an air of annoyance. "Let's go, Ryuuzaki."

He walked two steps behind the teen, but could not rid the feeling of being watched. He had felt it ever since he had stepped into the investigation room hours before. It was as if something, or someone, was keeping a meticulous eye on his. It unnerved him slightly; at first, he had though it to be Light.

Though it was apparent that it was not, seeing at the boy had his back to the detective.

So maybe there was an unconscious decision that he did not know about when he had asked the teen to accompany on this short trek. At first, he had thought it would greatly annoy Light- which it did. But, maybe his body was just nervous to be alone.

L frowned. That was something new.

Bringing an index finger to his lips, he hooked the appendage to the inside of his lower lip and sucked gently, lost in thought. But, the musing ended when he walked straight into Light's body.

He stumbled for a bit, before righting himself and glaring at the boy. "Why, Yagami-kun, did you cease in your movements?"

After the question left his lips, he was gifted with a strange look from Light. "Uh, because we're in the kitchen?"

Indeed, L affirmed, this was the kitchen. He was actually standing beside the refrigerator. "I see.."

"Yeah.."

L opened the door to the fridge without another word, pushing aside objects that did not interest him. For a few moments he performed this action, before finally finding the object of his desires: Strawberry shortcake, spongy and yellow with pink whipped cream perched with precarious care above the fluffy, fragile cake. Its appeal made L's mouth water slightly; he was going to enjoy this.

"Would Light-kun like something?" he added as he came to his senses, turning to the teen. Light just glared at the saccharine substance in L's position and shook his head.

"No, Ryuuzaki, I'm good. You enjoy it."

L ignored the fake smile. "I shall."

The man shuffled to the kitchen island and perched himself atop a tiny stool. Light, still unaccustomed to the detective's amazing equilibrium, gawked.

"It's not nice to stare, Light-kun. Did your parents not teach you any manners?"

He smirked behind his fork as the teen's cheeks tinted red in apparent rage. "You're lecturing me about manners?! That's hypocritical, Ryuuzaki, seeing as you have quite a long list of mannerisms that make it obvious that you were never trained to act proper."

"Oh, really?"

"Yes, really."

"Whatever you say, Yagami-kun."

"Insufferable bastard!"

L withdrew a chuckle that tickled his throat, opting instead to throw the boy a smug look. "Ah, well. Aren't friends supposed to get on each other's nerves?"

"Yes," Light nodded. "But, you take it to an extreme. It's detrimental." Light put on an innocent façade and looked away from the man. L wanted to laugh in his face.

"Right, Light. I apologize," wash is deadpanned, dead remark. Light's (Kira's?) face contorted to a look of pure rage for a moment, before his masked the anger and smiled.

"Sure. Are you done?"

"Yes." The man nodded, and carelessly threw his dirtied plate and fork into the sink. He stuffed his hands into his pockets and followed the man out of the room.

"You know, Light-kun," L began as they rested themselves on a couch, L getting ready to prepare a round of questions to throw at the Death God that hovered around him. "I believe we are in need of a good game of tennis. A re-match is in order."

A pure smile found its way onto Light's lips, which caused the dark-haired man to give a tiny smile of his own. "You're correct, Ryuuzaki. Though, I cannot see why you want to badly to be defeated."

"You won by pure luck." L huffed, crossing his arms over his knees. "My mind had been occupied by other matters."

"Sure, Ryuuzaki, sure," Light gave a sarcastic nod and stretched his arms up in the air, crossing one leg over the other. "Whatever you say."

The conversation ended then and there, Light standing up and muttering something about Misa calling him. L tuned him out and picked up the Death Note that lie before him. He thus began the tedious task of pulling vague responses from Rem.

Though as he did so, he still could feel the eyes on him, and missed having the boy behind him. Kira or not, Light Yagami had become his friend.

And Ryuuzaki missed his friend.

It was well past twilight, and a lone, solitary figure was present in the main investigation room. The figures ghostly features were softly illuminated by the bright light of the computer screen. Bony fingers were tucked away as a thumb pushed against a pale bottom lip. Dark eyes scanned details with critical accuracy, eating up and spitting out every word with a vicious manner.

Soon after, it seemed, his work was done for the night: the thin figure letting out a soft sigh and standing up. His bare feet glided along the cool linoleum without flinching in the slightest as they guided their master up flights of stairs.

Close to five minutes later, said feet stopped before a door to his room. The feet's owner made a rather distressed look. Slowly, a head framed by thick raven's locks turned a wary eye around his shoulder, perturbed and paranoid emotions showing in his gaze.

"It's probably nothing," the man muttered to himself, though he worked fast in opening the door. But before his could step inside, he was stopped by a force equal to the weight of another human being.

"Oh, but it is something, Lawliet."

Wide, dark eye framed by a black ring of sleeplessness stared in shock. Those pale, pastel-pink lips trembled slightly in surprise. "Be.. Beyond?"

"Yes, my sweet," the assailant murmured into the man's ear, smirking as a syringe slipped from his sleeve into his hand. Before the man below him could react, the needle met an artery and within moments, the struggling man was unconscious. "Now, rest. We have much to do."

With those words, he began to carry the lithe form from the building.

Not as planned, was all Quillsh Wammy could think of as he ran through the entirety of the building. The elderly man's exertion began to take it's toll on the man, as he had started to wheeze and splutter in agony.

Beyond had given him a strict guideline of his plans: survey L in his environment, maybe leave the man with a parting gift, and go on his way to return some later time. Of course, it was foolish of the man to believe, but he had nothing else to fall back on.

He had known what Beyond had meant when he said he'd kill the old man: he'd kill everything that ever pertained to Quillsh Wammy. The orphanage had already been taken care of, but not the children that had been housed inside of it. Every single child in that household was a part of him, and every one would have met their demise at the hands of the raving psychopath.

Watari's shoulders slumped as he search came up fruitless. B was nowhere in this building, and neither was L. He crawled back to the surveillance room and buried his face in his hands, sighing in a rather tragic manner and removing his glasses.

All that was left now, for the moment, was to pray for the well-being of his charge and the man he thought to be like his son. L's will-power had to amount to something, right?

A/N: kejfalfjadf. I really did not want to post this chapter, it's making me feel anxious. It's sketchy and does not make much sense, in my opinion. Maybe you folks might like it better, because to me it feels rushed. But I have a feeling this is the only way this story can progress. Gah! DX

Review, please, and tell me if I should re-write this puppy. I need feedbacks, people.

Thank you for reading this!