Chapter 2
Disclaimer: I do not own "Death Note"
Light couldn't help feeling disgusted. He frowned slightly.
The room very clean. They were standing on shiny, white linoleum, polished so intensively you could see your own reflection. The walls had a fragile, light blue color, grayish, five empty beds guarding the walls. Venetian blinds in a sickly sharp sort of white covered the windows at the very back of the room. Bright lamps over each bed brought with it a pointy, accurate light. A smell of medicine, scent-less cleaning products, sickness and death hung quietly in room, undisturbed like a rotting glass of water.
Mikami's bed was farthest away from the door. His pale chest was naked, rising irregularly up and down, a blueish blanket covering everything from it and downwards. You could just see the tops of his bandages. His black hair peacefully spread over the white pillow. The face was paler than it used to be, covered in icy sweat, grimacing pathetically in nightmares. An oxygen mask strapped around his head, helping him with the shallow actions that was his breathing.
It was absolutely disgusting.
"Arise," Light said distractedly to the kneeling doctor and the two nurses.
He began marching down the rows of beds and so did his four bodyguards. He was not going anywhere without them now. The doctor followed humbly in his tail.
This was his very own, private hospital. It was not very big, but complete with the best operation facilities known to man, the best of the doctors, the best of equipment, of everything. Just in case.
They stopped at Mikami's bed. Light sat on the chair next to it.
"Is he going to live?" Light asked expressionlessly, examining the sickly face.
"Yes, Lord," the doctor answered squeakily. "He was very lucky. The bullet didn't hit anything major or vital, nor any arteries."
"I'm glad. You'll be rewarded," Light said. The doctor bowed his head in gratitude.
Then suddenly Mikami opened his eyes. For a moment, Light saw them bright red. Then they were black once more.This reminded him of the reason he was keeping Mikami alive – the man knew his real name, as the only person still alive, Light had made sure, therefor dangerous. The public only knew Light as Kira. But Light needed Mikami's Eyes.
The doctor made a movement towards Mikami, but Light stopped him with a gesture of his hand.
Mikami's stare was fixed upon Lights eyes.
"Mikami, can you hear me?" The eyes of God were covered by his light brown hair.
"Yes…" Mikamis whispering was hoarse, "… God…"
"You've done well."
"I… I'm sorry… God…."
"Sorry?"
"Yes… You should… punish me…"
"What for?" Lights eyebrows knitted. The doctor was looking pleadingly at Light.
"I have failed you… God…" His gaze turned to the newly stitched cut on Lights cheek. "I'm so… so sorry, God… Please… forgive me…"
"I forgive you," Light said. Something that could have been a smile flinched across Mikami's face, but Light could not be sure. Then, as though on magic words, Mikami's eyes rolled and he passed out.
Light circled around the man's chair like a lion around its prey. The room was completely dark except for a bright lamp, blinding the man in the chair. He was hanging in the position in which he sat, if it had not been for the ropes he would have fallen. A noticeable bruise decorated his right temple.
Light could see the bodyguards, four of them. They were here if the prisoner got violent, but it didn't sooth Light. The fact that the man was tied to his chair was somewhat more soothing, but still, he was a little insecure. Normally, Light and the prisoner would be alone here with Mikami – Mikami with his Eyes and a page from the notebook. But now, Light had to take care of things by himself. He did not trust people. The closest he came to trusting someone was Mikami, mainly because Light knew he would give everything up for his God – his body, his soul, his life. But trusting? No.
"You've wounded my most faithful servant," Light said, stopping dead in front of the man. He had greasy, combed back yellow hair and several days old stubbles, brown eyes and a muscular body. Probably in the middle of his thirties. Right now his breathing was deep and calm, almost as if he was asleep.
"I don't approve of that," Light continued. "Nor do I approve that you've spilled not only his blood, but mine as well." His fingers touched his cheek.
"Well," the man said casually, with a strong, British accent, in the same jovial tone as if he was on a pub, "the more, the better, wouldn't yeh agree, me good lad?" He grinned. But his eyes were cold as ice and filled with hatred. Either he was really stupid, stupid beyond possibility, or he was smart, so brave he almost was ignorant, and obnoxious. Really obnoxious.
Light smiled coolly, but inside anger was and deep annoyance started to show themselves. Lad. He balled his fists. "What's your name?"
"Ooh, yeh don't want to give out yeh name is these dangerous times, do yeh, lad?"
"Actually, I find that the world's never been more peaceful." Lights voice was now freezing. He didn't like this man. He just seemed stupid. But Light knew that he wasn't. Not even close.
The other man leaned forwards towards Light, as though he was telling him a secret: "Yep, that's what it seem like, don't it? But the people are scared, I tell yeh, mate. If they just go one single step outta line, then schwiiiish!" If his hands had been free, the man would have run one of them over his throat significantly to the dramatic noise. "That Kira character, he thinks that everything's alright, that everyone's happy, but kiss me butt and call me Mary if they are. Something's stirring, I tell yeh, lad, something big. And not all the people think it's wrong, neither. Not everyone loves Kira like he thinks."
Anger was rushing through Lights very brain, chasing itself in the rhythm of his heartbeats. His hand shut through the thick air in the interrogation room, hitting the man in the face with a sickening smack, sending him sidewards and down on the ground with a thud.
"Why would you lie like that, huh?!" Light screamed to the man on the floor, who was blinking rapidly as though dazed, blood trickling out of the corner of his mouth. Then the sniper smiled.
"I tell yeh, lad, yeh sure are handyman with yeh fist," the yellow haired man said, spitting out blood.
Light thought that he was going to explode with anger. How could this man be so… so… so arrogant? So happy? Did he wish to die? Light was still very much alive, and yet the man looked like he had been victorious. Unless… unless it wasn't Light he had aimed for. No. No, that very thought was absurd, who else could it have been? Well, no matter. He would be dead soon anyway.
Light ordered two of his bodyguards to raise up the man's chair. The sniper appeared to have given up getting away the blood. Now he just let it run down his chin. He was still smiling, though.
The younger, brown-haired man folded his hands peacefully behind his back, slowly approaching the chair once more.
"You," he said with the gentle voice of a snake, "why are you so happy?"
"Well, I guess it can't heard to tell yeh now that it's done. Yeh see, mate," the man lifted his head and blinked congenially, "that's because I've done what I came here to do."
Light gritted his teeth, annoyed, and his eyebrows knitted, but mostly he was just confused. "What do you mean? I'm still alive."
Sniper leaned his head backwards and roared hoarsely with laughter. Blood showering his face. Then he stopped, closed his eyes, and let his head fall back onto his chest before he said: "It wasn't yeh I came here to shoot, lad. Me boss told me how to do it. I lured him out by grazing yeh. It was the tall guy with the black hair. The one that's called Mikami."
First Light was stunned. So after all it had not been him who was to be shot. It was Mikami. But… that could not be. That was impossible. Why would anyone want to shoot Mikami instead of Light?
"Your boss?" Light turned his eyes wildly to Sniper. "Who is he?"
Sniper laughed once but he did not answer.
"Who is he?" Light yelled desperately. A boss? Would that mean this was not the work of a madman? A boss… Since they had a boss, there must be more of them. They must be organized. Organized in their blasphemous battle against good and justice – against Kira.
But then Light realized something. And he smiled. The smile grew to a broad grin, he giggled quietly, but nothing more than that. Now it was Snipers turn to look puzzled.
"You see," Light said, suppressing more giggles, "you have failed."
Sniper looked even more confused, the arrogant attitude completely worn off.
"Mikami," the younger man allowed himself to giggle for a second, "is still alive."
Snipers eyes widened in disbelief and fear. Light chuckled. He turned his back on Sniper and started laughing, not insanely like in the Yellow Box years before, but very close. He laughed and laughed. Then something cut across the stream of joyful noises.
"Yeh mean the Mikami I was to shoot?" Sniper lifted his head as Light turned, looking him in the eye. "That Mikami?"
Light didn't answer.
"The Mikami… with the Eyes?"
Kira's eyes widened. How… how… With the Eyes? That could only mean… But how? How could this maniac know? Clearly he was referring to the Eye-deal one could make with a Shinigami. Or else he was just saying, that Mikami had regular eyes? No, why would he say that? It could not just be to provoke Light, or yes it could, but it was not possible to make it a provocation unless he knew… And if he knew that much, he must know about the Death Note, the Shinigami… about how Light killed. It was a catastrophe. Light could not let him live any longer.
Out of the corner of his eye he saw one of the bodyguards knit his eyebrows at the words "with the Eyes". The bodyguards must die too, Light realized.
"You," he barked at one of the them, who flinched and then knelt, "give me your cell-phone."