"No more investigations, that's what you promised me. You're not an FBI agent anymore, Naomi. The only reason you're here is so you can introduce me to your parents."
Raye spoke to her in an earnest, beseeching manner. And as she set the tea down before him, Misora 'Massacre' had to will herself not to launch into an open assault against this condescending attitude he had adopted. Really, sometimes her American fiancée was more of a traditional Japanese husband than he could ever believe.
But as much as she wanted to assert her worth in this situation, the fact of the matter was that she had agreed to refrain from interfering in his case. Not for any reason that would demean her, but simply because she had understood that with what Raye Penber was being required to face in this Kira investigation, the last thing he needed was worrying about what she was doing. Considering their yet-newborn engagement, the prospect of meeting the parents of the woman he loved for the first time, pressure from his superiors to perform up to her own demonstrated level of ability, and the daunting task of tracking down a magic murderer, that was a lot for anyone to shoulder.
And when Naomi looked into the worn, weary eyes of the man who had asked for her hand, she recognized that he was struggling under those burdens.
"I just haven't gotten that through my head yet. I'm sorry, Raye, I shouldn't be treating you like a junior agent."
"It's okay. No trouble."
And he laughed it off, that tender smile touching his face with a glow that only showed in her presence. Not for the first time, his former comrade and now future wife remembered what it was about him that had drawn her to Penber. It wasn't just that he treated her with a respect and interest that had been noticeably lacking from anyone else during her time in America. The first time they met, the native U.S. citizen looked at her like he couldn't believe what he was seeing. In a good way. As if he had always carried around some mediocre idea of what to expect from life, and suddenly the world had thrown him a fabulous surprise party in the form of Naomi Misora.
It was only after their relationship had progressed to him getting down on one knee and offering a ring that her suitor had dared to admit he had loved Naomi from that first instant.
Being rather lacking in terms of aspirations, she had never honestly expected something like this to happen. There had been men in her life; she was no blushing virgin, after all. But when Raye had tried in his fumbling, determined way to express what she meant to him, something had suddenly dawned on the object of his affection. Without even really trying, she had brought hope into this man's life. Beyond advancing in a job or pleasing his superiors, this caring and concerned individual had come to regard her, Naomi Misora, as a necessary part of his daily routine. Perhaps in that respect it wasn't terribly romantic, but if you delved deeper, you would come to the conclusion that, unless heknew that she was doing well and not in any distress, Raye couldn't find peace.
It might have been an early realization of this fact that had driven him to approach her in a more than professional capacity. Misora recalled their first attempt at conversation being awkward on her part, wondering what this attractive stranger was doing conversing with her in their office building. Raye smiled at every word she spoke, as though the mere fact that she paid attention to him brought buckets of happiness showering all over his heart.
Naomi had never tried to fall in love before. For several weeks even after the topic of marriage had become a looming reality on her calendar year, there had been an impression that if she wanted to, really wanted to, all she had to do was walk away. There would be no great loss on her part. Hardly anything in her life warranted the sort of deliberation that was necessary to determine whether or not she would want to go on without it. That was the world she lived in.
But following her dramatic experiences in California, there had been a profound shift in Misora's world view. It wasn't directly concerning Raye and what he made her feel. Rather, it was more like she had been given solid, clear-cut proof that her existence mattered. She was… worthwhile. Her life made a difference to people beyond a momentary encounter or reaffirmation of their own demonstrable being. With some surprise, for the first time ever Naomi fully saw the benefit that came to others from her having chosen to involve herself with them.
And that made the young woman realize that she was loved.
It was so good to know, she wanted to make that feeling official.
There just happened to be a guy more than willing to go along with that wish. Naomi loved him so much for that, living without it didn't make much sense anymore.
So here they were.
And suddenly Raye was miserable.
THAT much was obvious to anyone, even a trained federal investigator who had nearly suffered all her imagination and creativity to be sucked out by a bloated patriarchy of a horrific job. Her fiancée was looking like the loaded camel who dreaded being told that they only needed to add one more bit of straw to his hump.
All right, Misora. You're the world-famous detective. Figure out what exactly you can do about this.
Throw him onto the bed and screw his brains out?
Plan B, let's call that.
"Like I said before," Raye continued speaking, "As soon as we get some kids of our own running about, you'll have to find reserves of energy that the Bureau could never tap, no matter how they tried."
His fiancée didn't know whether to be amused or insulted by that comment.
The clueless smile on Penber's face never faltered, though. "But for right now, why don't you grill me on the best method of hitting it off with your father, Miss Investigator? That is going to be a scarier confrontation than if I met Kira himself on the subway."
She couldn't help it. This time Naomi did laugh.
He did too. For a while. Then that drained look came back over his features, and he rested his head in his hands, rubbing his temples slowly.
"Honest to God, beautiful, I'm stressing about this wedding and everything it's going to involve like the Sword of Damocles is hanging over my head. If my nerves give out at any time over the next couple of weeks, do you promise to get me professional help? It can be Freudian or acupuncture, I won't say no, believe me."
Worried now, Misora attempted to lighten the mood. "You turned down a quick nuptials in Vegas, remember? I believe the expression you used was 'the whole shebang'."
"I didn't know what I was getting myself into!" Raye chuckled half-heartedly. "Cakes and announcements, formalities and licenses, ceremonies and trip confirmations and rehearsal feasts and cancellations! Plus add on the mental anguish of worrying if everything will go off without a hitch and we'll actually find ourselves married in another two months without some god-awful catastrophe arriving to spoil the wedding before you can say 'I do'. It's a wonder our ancestors ever got married at all, if they had to deal with half of these intricacies in addition to fending off the occasional saber-toothed tiger. They should all have been dead of heart attacks!"
She had never seen Raye look this beaten. Not even after failing the qualifying tests for an administrative position.
Sorry, girl. Plan B just isn't going to cut it in this situation.
What he needs is one less distraction.
It means foregoing the huge important spectacle that every little girl dreams of, but hey, I've always been a pretty down-to-earth kind of gal, as he calls me. And this is something I know I can do without a qualm.
"Raye."
His eyes travelled over to latch onto her, and in spite of everything, her boyfriend smiled.
"Yeah?"
Misora stood up.
"Let's get married. Today."
Penber stared at her fixedly.
"Naomi, are you high?"
"No," she responded, holding out her hands. "I'm perfectly reasonable. Think about it: we're not missing out on anything this way. We can still have the huge expensive wedding that both of our parents have been planning and dreading since we were born. But while it's getting to that point, we can face it without the needless frustrations that come from wondering if everything will go off smoothly and we'll actually be husband and wife when it's done."
When the FBI investigator made no move to accept her offering, Misora 'Massacre' came to the fore, on full battle readiness. Crossing over to him, she placed her warm hands over his own and drew him purposefully to his feet.
"It's still early in the day. I have some acquaintances in the justice department over in Shinjuku. We make a quick phone call, find a willing judge, and have the magistrate give us a nice quick civil ceremony in time to go out for dinner. The forms will be officially registered by tomorrow morning at the latest. Afterwards, we can celebrate in the way that a man and a woman normally do after getting married."
That part caught his attention, and Raye's firm embrace encircled her waist in a possessive fashion.
"You'd be willing to do that for me?" he whispered incredulously.
"For both of us," she corrected. "I'm looking to mitigate how bad our first major wedded squabble is going to be, and this seems like an excellent way to reduce the stress building up to that moment."
Apparently her forceful personality won out over his complacent one, for a fire lit her lover's eyes an enduring glow, and he kissed Naomi with a desperate passion which she accepted whole-heartedly.
Running his fingers through her long black hair, the gallant young man stepped back and marveled at the beauty that lay before him, cupping her smiling face.
"I love you, Naomi Misora."
And she clasped her hands over his.
"That's 'Naomi Penber' after today, my husband."
Light wasn't looking at her anymore.
Instead his slightly widened gaze had drifted over to stare at the side of the building far away from them. She could see the muscles in his throat working back and forth, and a vein pulsing in his left temple.
With an inhuman cackle, Ryuk dropped down and sauntered through the room. Several names and dates swam over the heads of the mortals arrayed around him. And sure enough, dancing above the gleaming ebony crown of the woman holding Light hostage was the kanji spelling out two words.
'Penber'. 'Naomi'.
She bent down, and murmured into the man-child's ear, loud enough for everyone else to still catch her words.
"What's in a name, right, Light? Is it how you call yourself, or how you think of yourself? If you wed someone, and they give you their name, does it just change you, or maybe even your whole destiny?"
No response came from him, whether by sight or sound. Naomi was not really expecting one.
"You killed me prematurely, six years ago. Apparently, you need a person's real name in order to murder them. A mere alias or title won't do. But what if they change their name, in a way that ties them to another person's heart and soul, recognized and sanctioned even by the state in which we live? Does that actually alter their life, their very being, down to a level that even a Death Note would have a hard time distinguishing between the two?"
"I think we both know the answer to that question, Mr. Yagami." Naomi Penber brushed a stray lock of hair back behind her ear. "Raye Penber gave me his name, and in doing so, he saved me from you. I never bothered to have my identification changed, and it completely slipped my mind after he died. That's why the ID I showed you on that day had 'Naomi Misora' on it. And that was my name. For the last twenty odd years. Enough for your murder pad to work, and place a spell on me that caused my death less than two days later. My life ended. But the one that I was supposed to live, with Raye, the one you stole from me? THAT one started three months ago. And in that life, I hunted down Kira, and brought him to justice."
At least, so I hope.
It all depends on whether or not I have it in me to fool an actual god of death.
She saw Light Yagami's head turn, the rubber blockage still in his mouth, and come to rest on the floor once more, his arms crossed beneath him.
Surrender?
Comprehension?
Murder?
Impossible to say.
I have to push him.
At that moment, Near spoke up.
"I'm afraid that you'll have to be more forthcoming."
Everyone turned to regard him, herself included. He made a gesture, and the SPK agents finally lowered their sights off of Naomi.
"Miss Penber," the abnormal toy-enthusiast droned on, "You've just narrated a telling that is illuminating on a number of levels. According to you, Kira remains unfamiliar with all the rules of his Death Note. In addition, different names can be used to kill the same person, provided certain criteria are met. I have to wonder if someone born without a given name at all would be susceptible to a Note's influence, or if a shinigami would even be able to see a name in addition to their time of death."
"But all that is irrelevant, because it involves no proof."
Two of his fingers were now capped by rubber puppets, depicting himself and Kira. "From the start of this investigation, there has been an unspoken complicity between the two sides that, if evidence exposing Kira is ever found, that damning material in our eyes might be insufficient to arrest anyone according to international law. While discussions about forming a judicial body to specifically deal with the matter of a supernatural killer have been going on for years, at the present date, nothing has ever come from it. Mainly because the possible magistrates for such a body have balked at the idea of opposing Kira, even in such a forethoughtful manner."
The dolls pointed at both her and Light Yagami.
"You claim to be an eye-witness to Kira's confession and a victim in one. What I want to hear is, what do you expect to result from this accusation?"
What do you want us to do about it?
That's what he was asking.
A few times in her life, Naomi Penber had been asked that question. Usually by people in authority, and she had realized early on that the question was its own answer.
Whenever someone asks something like 'What do you expect to result from this?' what they're telling you is 'We can't do anything about it'.
And that was a very irritating thing to hear, especially for someone who had been murdered and was looking for a little justice.
She realized then that this kid bothered her, and it would be nice to tell him so.
"Near?"
He let his head drag off to one side. "Yes?"
"Shut your stupid mouth."
It was the air of total calm that Penber assumed when making this statement that lent it such singular force. Even Yagami's eyes widened in surprise at hearing it; or perhaps pleasure, who could tell? He still had his face pressed into the gritty concrete.
"I don't expect a single worthwhile thing from you," the woman continued. "You showed me exactly what you are capable of accomplishing about ten minutes ago, and that's jack-shit. And that goes for the rest of you as well." She then turned accusing eyes on the rest of the people in the room. "After everything you've seen and heard, I get the feeling that all of you are treating this as some sort of exercise in detective work. Looking for clues that will allow you to be 100% certain of everything before you are willing to make a move or reach a decision. You're behaving like a jury sent out to deliberate, and while you're arguing amongst each other, the criminal on trial simply walks out of the room and proceeds to engage in a massacre."
"Hey!" Matsuda interjected at this point.
"What gives you the right to act so high-and-mighty?" The blonde lady was regarding her with a measure of dislike now. "We don't even know for sure who or what you are just yet."
"My point exactly." Naomi shot a disgusted look back. "You're hamstrung by your expectations. And in a way, I suppose that's partly L's fault. He treated this like a case waiting to be solved, and everyone else just went along with it. You wanted to find out the reason for why these things kept happening, not just who was doing them. Human curiosity was on the line. I'm betting you rationalized it by saying that if you didn't figure out Kira's power, there was always a chance someone else in the future could replicate his feat, leaving the world holding its breath once again."
She then made a gesture at the notebook Near was holding. "But you found the answer. Even afterwards, you all behaved as if you just needed one more clue and everything would suddenly fall into place. That's exactly what got L killed. Looking at this in terms of guilt and trials and preponderance of evidence is precisely what has been holding you back all these years."
"Holding us back how?" Ide interjected.
Those deep black eyes now locked upon him. The depth of coldness in them left the grown man wishing he had chosen to hold his tongue, like a child giving the wrong answer at school.
"With everything that was at stake, and the whole world falling into the clutches of a murderous fear-god, the minute you found someone who had a good shot of being Kira, you should have killed them yourself."
That statement left a very deep hole in the conversation.
On the floor, Light Yagami seemed to curl in upon himself.
The icy angel looming over him did not seem to take notice. But at her back, Ryuk straightened to attention.
Was this heading where he thought it was?
"And that's why, when you ask me what I expect to come from this little conclave of yours, I respond that I intend to see Light Yagami die today."
Just like that, the situation in the room seemed to go back in time. Once more, the black weapons in their hands trained on her.
Naomi did not flinch.
Had it happened yet?
"What needs to happen in this world," she spoke slowly and clearly now so that all of them could discern her words, "is that one person accepts the need to perform an act that society considers evil, in order to do away with something that threatens the core of society itself."
"We will shoot, Naomi Penber."
Aizawa said it, and she believed him. But the dark-garbed outcast behaved as if she hadn't heard. "I know that many of you remain unconvinced by my recitation, if indeed even one of you is. It's not essential that I survive this day, after all. I'm ready to die here as I have before, if that is what you need to sleep easier at night. All I'm really asking is for you to doubt your most cherished convictions long enough to let me see this through."
"No." Mogi shook his head.
"It doesn't work that way." One of the Americans offered that.
"We can't condone a murder," another explained.
The Task Force was dividing their attention between her and Light. The SPK was doing the same, except substituting Near in place of the Kira suspect. Neither one of the two males was reacting to her declarations in any perceivable way.
The boy just studied her dispassionately, as if considering the merits of her argument.
The man stayed curled up in a ball.
Unmoving.
Unafraid.
Almost like…
Like he was waiting for something.
And suddenly Naomi knew.
The conviction was so strong, more certain than love or truth. She rejoiced in this feeling, greater and more fulfilling even than that moment years ago when a simple bump to the back of her head had caused all the unanswered questions to fall neatly into place, leading an off-duty FBI agent to the truth behind the most diabolical murders she had ever witnessed.
It made her smile to remember it.
She had what she needed now.
Thank you, Mr. Yagami.
"You really won't let me kill him?"
Her words fell as casually as if nothing could ever be wrong.
"No." Several voices chorused.
Bunch of idiots.
I suppose there really is no other way to do it, if you are all I have to rely on.
"Light?"
His shoulders twitched.
Very carefully, Naomi raised the gun.
"Stop!" someone called authoritatively. But it had no effect.
Her berretta came up.
"Would you do me a favor, please?"
She was still smiling when she said it, and the young man's head turned slightly to take in what was about to happen.
Standing above him, cool and calm and beautiful, the resurrected Naomi Misora was holding a gun to her own temple.
Everyone else was focusing on her at that moment as well.
Because of this, none of them saw the look of glee that passed over his features.
"Don't do it!" Matsuda screamed, pleading with her.
"STOP!" Aizawa sounded absolutely horrified. In his mind's-eye, he once more saw L crumpling silently to the floor, as though a sniper had felled him. A life cut short, like so many others. Briefly, a thought flashed through his head.
A person who fails to commit suicide is forty times more likely to try again, and succeed.
Most of them weren't pointing their guns at her anymore. Not that it mattered. This was how she wanted to do this.
Seconds ticked away.
She never stopped smiling.
"Would you… tell me what time it is?"
Her fingers then opened, allowing the gun to slip through them.
The sound of it striking the floor was followed by complete and total silence.
Several more seconds passed.
And Light's eyes widened.
When she saw this, Naomi smirked, and dove upon him.
The madman struggled beneath her, and several people cried out against this, but thankfully, no shots were fired. Her training in martial arts came to the fore, allowing the determined warrior to swiftly subjugate her foe in a submission hold. As he grunted and flailed, she then did the only thing that made sense.
And that was to slip the watch smoothly off his wrist.
At the same time, her prisoner managed to yank the gag off.
"DON'T!"
He scrabbled to an upright position, and whipped about.
Her foot slammed into his face.
Yagami went down, clutching his injury, and before anyone could lay hands on her Naomi Penber put that time to good use.
Seconds later, she had figured it out.
A secret compartment came open. She held the timekeeping device up for all to see.
The closest was one of the Americans, just a few feet away from her. But as his target lifted her prize, he came to an abrupt halt.
All the shouting quickly died out.
"What is…?"
It wasn't clear who spoke. But to answer their question, Penber slowly and carefully reached into the hatch, and removed something folded up there.
A small piece of paper.
No need to check. She knew what she would find. Instead, the quiet crusader handed the scratch of parchment off to the foreigner standing to her left.
He took it hesitantly, and Naomi then proceeded to crouch down before her most hated enemy.
"Would you please read what is written there?"
For this, she wanted to see the boy's face once more.
Light didn't move, only pressed a hand to his bleeding lip.
The look on his face no longer counted as human.
A death sentence was then read.
"Naomi Penber."
But this time, it wasn't her own.
"Gunshot."
Nothing more happened then for a period that seemed too long and yet hardly noticeable.
Then the agent who had spoken trod numbly, almost wonderingly, into the midst of the two gangs of men and women, holding the offending article up like a scorpion that might sting him at any moment.
Detectives from both sides of the Pacific gathered around him. They stared at the innocuous slip, understanding that here, at last, was something they had only hoped to see.
The name of the victim was hastily scrawled in a red substance, while the manner of death seemed to be in pen and far more serene in execution, possibly having been written beforehand.
"It's real."
It didn't burn away in their hands or mysteriously vanish or anything like that. The shinigami's handiwork was as solid and determined as any piece of material evidence they had ever handled.
Aizawa swallowed in a dry throat.
"This means that…"
Behind Naomi Penber, she heard someone give a dry chuckle.
Glancing over her shoulder allowed the revenant detective to come face-to-face with an actual god of death.
"You know," the goggle-eyed misfit smirked, "I can honestly say I don't have a clue what's going on here, and somehow I'm still having fun. You humans really are great!"
Before she could reply, Matsuda screamed.
"LIGHT!"
There was a rush of movement, and someone grunted in exertion. Then Light Yagami dove forward, snatching up her gun from where it lay. In a flash, the talented athlete was on his feet, one arm wrapping around Naomi's waist. The muzzle of her pistol dug into her side forcefully.
Their role reversal was completed a few seconds later, when every other officer in the room trained their weapons on the criminal and his hostage.
Behind her, the handsome youth panted slightly, carefully crouching at her back to take maximum advantage of his shield for protection. His hold on her was firm, and there was no doubt that he was once more in control of himself.
A few moments later, this was confirmed when a hoarse voice addressed them all.
"I think we all see where this is going. You don't have to be a genius to figure it out."
And he chuckled, in a manner similar to his deathly familiar.
Still splayed out on the cold pavement, Near's head rose a fraction.
"Kira," he whispered.
For just a moment, an eye gleamed malevolently over at him, and then passed over the child, as if once and for all discarding this slight form from all consideration.
Kira peered out at the posse drawing beads on him.
"But whatever you might be feeling right now, I want you to consider a few things."
One of the SPK seemed about to speak, but halted at the sight of the livid half-visage whose burning-eyed gaze held them riveted.
"To start off, I don't know what you think you have there, but it certainly isn't a Death Note fragment. And if you don't believe me, you can feast your eyes on this nice young bishoujo I'm currently standing behind. Whatever you might think of her in terms of intelligence, it should be fairly obvious to you that she is not currently dead. So that slip means nothing."
"Unless you didn't know that when you wrote it," Naomi spoke up.
The gun jammed tightly into her black leather coat. Its hostage remained perfectly motionless, offering no threat whatsoever.
"Let's not go trading off here, Naomi, we might start to confuse some of the less intellectually gifted among us. If you continue to interr…"
"You wouldn't shoot me just yet, Light. After all, I haven't told you what went wrong."
That drew Kira up short. Humanity's judge paused to consider the implications of this. Before he could voice his opposition or agreement to that statement, though, she beat him to it.
"I mentioned I came back three months ago, but I never told you how. That's certainly something out of your experience, am I right?"
When an answer was again not forthcoming, her lidded eyes flicked over to the death god on duty.
"And you claimed to be a bit puzzled yourself, Mr…?
"Ryuk," the spectral spectator supplied. "Nice to meet you, Naomi Penber."
"That feeling won't last. I'm somewhat caustic around strangers."
He blinked. This woman was being held at gunpoint by the single most prolific mass murderer in all of history, and for some reason, there didn't appear to be a hint of anxiety in her.
Just what the hell was going on here, anyway?
"Let's begin with the Death Note slip there. Now, if Ryuk would be so kind as to offer confirmation whenever possible, I'm guessing that once a person's name is inscribed on those pages, their death becomes unavoidable by any means. Only the time is a factor."
The watch dangled from her grip still, and Naomi gave it a harmless shake, as if to emphasize this statement.
Not wanting to be left out, Ryuk chimed in. "Yeah, that's pretty much the gist of it."
At her back, she could feel Kira tense, and a low snarl made its way from his throat.
"What?" the perennially bored apparition sniffed. "I'm under no obligation to anyone in this room. Just one thing I'm required to do as a shinigami in this situation. Right?"
That sentence apparently had the affect of dampening the killer's wrath.
It did not go unnoticed by Penber.
So it's true, then.
You should have chosen your allies better, Light.
She continued without giving these thoughts away.
"Getting back to my being here, I actually owe it to a person who must remain nameless, simply because I don't know their name. They broke me out of whatever limbo I was experiencing in that tomb, and gave me the strength to free myself. I had forgotten everything about who I am; Naomi Misora didn't exist anymore, after all. She was voided. But my savior saw my predicament, and gave me exactly what I needed. A name."
The armed law enforcement agents were sweating and shifting through this recitation. Their attention strayed between the woman and her assailant, hidden behind the black silhouette. One of them, Mogi, made as if to move off to the side, and immediately Kira's hold tightened visibly, causing him to rethink this maneuver.
None of this deterred her.
"I remembered everything about who I was supposed to be, then. And some other things as well. There was knowledge in my head that hadn't been present before or after death. Rules that dealt specifically with me, and what I had become."
She glanced once more over at the shinigami hovering on the edge of her vision.
"Ryuk, by any chance are you familiar with the term 'eidolon'?"
He blinked. "You want to repeat that one more time?"
"Eidolon."
"No, can't say that I am," he rasped desultorily.
Bless you, Ryuk.
"An eidolon," Penber continued as if she were not facing death, "is 'a spirit that has returned to inhabit a body'. I'm quoting verbatim here, mind you. This should not be confused with actual resurrection. Another rule that seemed to apply to me was, 'Once dead, a human cannot be brought back'."
Ryuk's head jerked up. "Hey, that one I do remember reading."
Damn.
Why couldn't you be totally ignorant?
"You know," the poltergeist continued lazily, "if I had the manual, I could look up this whole 'eidolon' thing you mentioned. Studying was never my strong suit."
She tried to keep the terror out of her voice.
"Is there anything preventing you from doing that?"
"Well, actually, yeah."
Relief.
"Mortals are permitted to own and use Death Notes, but not the manual. You couldn't see it even if you tried. And anyway, my guidebook's kinda out of reach right now. I have to remain in the human world, but I can't disclose the reason for that either. Unless it's something you'd like to share with us."
"Afraid not," Naomi shrugged nonchalantly. "As I said, I picked up a few points of interest, but something told me I didn't get all of them. Light probably knows more about the rules than I do."
She had told her first lie.
While interested in the direction this was taking, Kira was not blessed with infinite reserves of patience.
"Excuse me," he hissed in clipped tones, "this is all quite fascinating, but perhaps you could get to the point. Our friends are looking somewhat worse for wear."
"You're right. Time is running out." So saying, Naomi resumed her telling. "Whatever the similarities, an eidolon is not one of the living. And so neither am I. I breathe, my heart beats, but certain prerogatives of life are denied to me. 'No eidolon can be a bearer of life or death'. What that means is that this body is unable to bear children. But more unusual than that, I am prevented from directly taking another person's life. It's impossible for me to kill anyone, whether by natural or supernatural means. Even a Death Note is useless to me for that purpose."
She cast an amused glance behind her. "I'm afraid all that drama with the gun was just for show, Light. You were never in any peril from me. But it was necessary to make you think you were."
Kira's eyes met hers, and there was clearly no relief in them at learning that.
"You're rather well-informed this time around, aren't you, Miss Penber?"
Fatally, I hope.
"Not my choice. Another set of rules had to do with my new existence. 'An eidolon can die by human hands, but not shinigami'. I took it to mean that a Death Note was as useless against me as it was for me. The Note can't kill someone more than once, you might say. Seems pretty obvious when you put it like that."
Kira turned an accusing glare on Ryuk, who merely shrugged, as if to say, 'What do you want to hear? This is news to me as well.' The interest displayed by the wraith was not feigned. He was learning something that he hadn't been privy to before.
The arisen avenger let a smile touch her lips.
"I believe this illustrates the point I was making before, how you should have all the relevant information before making a decision. I'm afraid you were a bit quick on the draw back there, Light. I suspected that unless an explicit unforeseen threat was directed against you, you wouldn't dare to use any fragments of the Note to murder anyone while you were here, for fear that it would be taken as confirmation of your identity. But when I started talking about killing you, your self-preservation instincts kicked in, and you tried to finish me before I could get the chance. That was your fatal mistake."
Kira snickered then.
"Well, that's very informative, Miss Penber. I thank you for the analysis of previous events. But unless you have any more cryptic secrets to reveal, I'm going to make a few things clear myself."
When she did not respond, he rose up to his full height, and regarded the score of killing tools being leveled at him with clear disdain.
"It's perfectly obvious just by looking at all of you that you're willing to buy anything she has to offer. I'm disappointed, but not surprised. If that monotone cherub over there is any indication, you lot would trust your fates in the hands of anyone who professed to know more than you. L certainly stamped that into my comrades, and Americans are not exactly known for refusing authority figures."
"But before one of you trigger-happy followers gets any ideas, I'd like to ask what you think the long-term results of all this will be."
He pressed the gun now at the base of Naomi's skull. "Think about it. You've all been striving for years to defeat Kira. But what exactly has Kira done that is so wrong? He's freed us all from the tyranny of the wicked and profane. Brought justice into a world that knew only a paltry shadow of the idea. If Kira hadn't arisen, humanity would still be lumbering around in the same deluded, short-sighted, self-obsessed manner it always has."
"But he did come!" Kira's voice was growing in passion and volume. "With the conviction and purpose that was absent in so-called leaders of today, who merely voice empty promises and are expected to accomplish only the smallest fraction of their vows, if any. Kira set forth to change our world for the better, and so he has! Aizawa…!" Those flaring eyes turned upon the apostate. "The world your children have grown up in for the past five years is significantly safer, more civilized, and more peaceful than the one you were prepared to hand over to them, is it not?"
His jaw clenched, and Aizawa took careful aim at a point just past Naomi's ear. "You son of a bitch, don't you dare mention my kids or I'll…!"
"Kill me and all that will come to an end!" Yagami roared, causing them to flinch. "Whom are you going to do it for, anyway? This self-confessed zombie, who can't even produce offspring of her own? Or that pasty-faced idiot-savant crouching in the dirt, who if put out into society would be totally incapable of functioning and be dead within a week? They don't even live in the same world as us, of course they don't mind if things go back to the rotting mess they used to be! Do you think that your families and friends will thank you when you explain how wars are coming back into style, and murderers and thieves are once more permitted to ravish the innocent without fear? How many times has someone you loved been spared as a result of the deaths of truly wicked people, I ask you?"
They were thinking about it. She could see it in their eyes. He was starting to win some of them over.
It's a shame you're wooing the wrong suitor, Light.
Her eyes stole down to inspect the watch still in her hand.
There are actually three people in this room who don't have to live in this world.
He was almost screaming now. "Kira's rule is the only thing that can raise man up from the savagery he has clung to for millennia! There is no such thing as an 'acceptable evil'! Anyone who seeks to prosper at the cost of truth and righteousness must be destroyed, or they will simply exist as examples to future generations of how we permit such abominations to live, because we are afraid to eradicate them! If you do not want to see that happen, if you truly believe in a better future for us all, then you must look to Kira, who understands what you secretly wish to…"
"Light?"
The rant cut off.
Her voice was soft in comparison to his blasting tirade, but something in its quality caused him to take notice.
And Naomi did it again.
"You might want to save your breath, because unless I miss my guess, you're going to be dead in precisely three minutes."
The breath caught in his throat.
Slowly, the glossy head turned, and eyes blacker than a carrion crow's regarded him without a trace of emotion.
"What?" Kira gasped.
She then held up the watch so that he could see.
"Judging by the relative time of my death threat and how you reacted at a certain point, you were expecting me to die of a gunshot wound at about ten minutes, twenty-five seconds past the hour. Right?"
He didn't deny it. Instead something unpleasant made itself known around Kira's scheming little eyes.
Fear. Perhaps at the prospect of yet another unheard-of revelation to fall from his victim's lips.
She gave it to him.
"Did you know that Raye Penber was part Apache on his grandfather's side?" She didn't wait for an obvious negative, but bulled on ahead. "Well, in the traditions of that people, there's a type of mythological clan called a 'phratry'. Several of them exist, and each person is supposed to belong to one. Nothing to really distinguish between two members of the same phratry. But Raye did tell me something interesting."
The wickedest smile she could manage then graced Naomi Penber's lips.
"Apparently, if a tribal witch attempts to curse someone who belongs to the same phratry as themselves, the spell will have no effect on the target. And worse than that, it will automatically rebound and kill the witch who cast it."
The necromancer stared at her with wide, mesmerized eyes, looking very much like a kid entranced by the recitation of a fairy tale.
"Before Naomi Misora died, she forgot to tell you she was married until it was too late. In honor of that, here's another little secret I didn't impart to you at a more convenient time."
What came out of her mouth next shocked everyone in the room, no exceptions.
" 'If a human writes the name of an eidolon in a Death Note, that human will die…'"
Kira gaped like a landed fish.
"… 'in the manner prescribed by themselves, at a point in time thirteen minutes after the failed attempt'."
Her killer looked at Naomi in a very peculiar manner. Like she was a dog that had just suddenly started speaking. Several things must be coursing through his magnificent brain, she thought. Karma. Justice. Suspicion. Disbelief. Of course, there was nothing to make him believe that what she had just told him was true. After all, she had every reason to lie.
Except...
The Death Note, his unassailable killing tool, had inexplicably failed to carry out its mission. For the first time ever, someone he himself placed under the guillotine blade had NOT died. And on top of that, here was this woman he knew went to her prearranged death years ago, standing there mocking him with her tone and her very existence!
There were things about the Note that even he, Kira, did not know. And he thought that in all these years he must have figured most of them out, but...
What if she was telling the truth?
Whom could he turn to for aid here?
There was really only one alternative, wasn't there, Light?
As she thought this, they all saw Kira's attention dart over and affix upon the leering lich standing off to one side.
"Ryuk..."
A most disturbing chuckle came from the being in question. Kira went on, ignoring the interruption.
"Is what she's saying true?"
That emaciated visage turned to regard its long-time associate. It did this for the space of a few seconds.
"So you're talking to me out loud, now, Light?"
"Don't waste my time!" the revolutionary hissed. "Answer me, am I going to die like she said?"
"Like she said?"
Ryuk's thoughtful gaze fixed upon the resurrected female motionless in Kira's grasp.
Those black eyes clashed with the red ones, each trying to read the other's intentions.
Naomi Penber gave nothing away.
It's all up to him, now.
"Well," the death god drawled, "I gotta tell you, Light, she certainly threw me for a loop today. If you'd asked me before whether or not somebody could come back from the dead, I'd have told you no, without a doubt. But here one is. Gotta say, she did a good job tricking you into exposing yourself today. I don't think even you would have been willing to risk yourself in the same way she did, letting someone write your actual name in a Death Note. And you have to admit, it didn't do a thing."
"Dammit, spit it out! Is that Death Note going to kill me?"
The God of the New World sounded quite panicked right now. He must be feeling every passing second with a greater clarity and foresight than ever before in his life.
After all, each one might be his last.
The wasted skull cocked to one side, and something akin to a frown passed over it.
Ryuk looked almost... hesitant.
When this happened, Naomi casually held up the watch, tapping it to emphasize something.
Those fleshless features contracted into worry.
Can you do it, Ryuk? Are you honestly willing to risk it?
What have you been waiting for, all this time? What's your purpose in being here?
When do you stop being an observer, and have to obey the precepts of a shinigami?
What do you have to lose?
I think we both know.
"No."
Several people holding their breaths without realizing it let them out simultaneously.
Ryuk shook his head. "You don't have to worry about dying from that woman's schemes, Light."
She could see it, then, out the corner of one eye. The simple, unaltered relief that settled over Kira's features, secure in the knowledge that he remained in control of his destiny, and was beholden to no one. All thanks to the one ally he could always depend on.
And then, quite suddenly, Ryuk pulled out his own Death Note. A skull-tipped pen appeared between his fingers.
The look on Kira's face changed to one of confusion.
It was almost heart-breaking, how human he seemed right then.
"After all," the shinigami commented airily, "I do believe I told you years ago how this would all end for us."
A horrible presentiment seemed to sweep throughout the occupants of that room.
The face of death himself stood at the center of that dawning epiphany.
"Ryuk…" he choked out.
His corpse-like compatriot turned his eyes to the open pad before him, and began to write.
"Mr. Light… Ya-ga-mi…"
"No, don't," Kira pleaded faintly. "It's a trick, it has to be…"
Ryuk continued without pause. "The date: January 28, 2010. The time…"
"STOP IT!" The cool voice was broken and high-pitched now, on the verge of tears. "YOU CAN'T DO THIS, I WON'T ALLOW IT!"
The black handgun swept up and fixed upon his longtime partner.
"When he…"
A shot broke the ghoul's speech just as it finished writing.
"…fires upon me."
Still held in Kira's deathly embrace, the eidolon felt him stiffen with a sharp gasp.
She turned to regard her captor fully.
Light Yagami's face had gone pale. A moment later, her pistol fell from his outstretched hand. At the same time, his other arm let go, and went to clutch at his chest. The handsome face jerked, transforming into a pain-filled rictus. Teeth clenched, eyes popping out of their sockets, Light reached his free hand out in supplication to the uncaring phantasm that had so casually condemned him to death.
Ryuk's Death Note closed shut with a snap.
In that instant, his earthly counterpart collapsed.
The released hostage spun about and caught hold of him as he fell. None of the other detectives moved, seemingly rooted to their spots. Because of this, the man and woman were left alone in that tableau.
She slowly went to her knees, supporting his dying figure in black-clad arms. Light's body twitched, heels drumming arrhythmically on the dank stone as he settled to earth, resting in her lap.
Naomi cradled her enemy's head in the crook of one arm. His open eyes drifted over to find her, filled with so many questions and so much promise.
Some things just couldn't be allowed, no matter how much potential they might have.
She took his hand, encasing it in the one which still held a watch that had now served to mark both of their dooms. The man's mouth moved, whispering something his attendant alone could hear.
Sadly, the black-haired beauty then bent down, and did that which she had impulsively thought about when first laying eyes upon this breathtaking young god-given-flesh over six years ago.
This was a kiss, soft and brief, shared between them both. What it signified was known only to each other, whether it be desire, promise or farewell.
When Naomi pulled away, her departure drew the last breath out with it.
Light Yagami, faceless master of an unwitting world, lay dead in the lap of his long-forgotten enemy.
In an unremarkable edifice on a day like any other, what would come to be known as history's Second Reign of Terror at last came to a close.
Kira had been slain.
To be continued…