True to his word, Miura showed up twenty minutes later. He was a lanky, bespectacled boy with a permanently nervous air about him, and today he seemed even more restless than usual. He fidgeted with his shirt sleeves while they made their way to the police station, talking incessantly about Kira: where he or she might be, how they might have found the notebook, what they might do next.
"Hey, what did you do with that eraser?" he asked suddenly. "Maybe we should have brought it with us! In case they find Kira, you know?"
"I, uh…" Taro floundered, cursing silently at himself. Of course they would want to know about the eraser! How could he explain its disappearance? He couldn't bring up the shinigami now: not only was it far-fetched, but Miura might start to guess what else Taro hadn't been entirely honest about.
"Miura, do you really think they would want to bring back all the criminals Kira has killed?" he said, after a rather-too-long pause.
"That's not what I mean," Miura replied, giving the other boy a glance. Was he suspicious? "If you give the eraser to the police, they won't have to worry so much about getting killed by Kira. You do still have it, right?"
"Not exactly," Taro muttered, looking at his feet. "It's gone. I threw it away."
"What? Why?" Miura exclaimed, gaping.
Taro continued to hang his head in shame. "I… I was afraid, Miura," he said quietly, as if it were something painful to admit.
"You didn't have to go and throw it away. You could've just given it to me. I wouldn't have minded," said Miura, oblivious. "Where did you throw it? Maybe we could find it again."
"No. Public litter bin, it will be long gone by now." Taro sighed and kicked at a small stone in his path.
"That sucks." Miura seemed to have bought it; Taro relaxed slightly. He needed to start thinking further ahead. It wouldn't be good to be taken by surprise like that again, especially not in front of the police.
They arrived at the station to find it in a state of mild chaos. The television broadcast had provoked a huge public reaction: one that the small local police station was hardly equipped to deal with. There wasn't a police officer in sight, but the two schoolboys had to squeeze their way through a small crowd before they could speak to the harried-looking woman at the desk.
"We need to talk to detective Takagi or inspector Yamanaka," Miura announced.
"What is the situation?" the woman asked. "Is it an emergency?"
"It's about Kira."
"I see. You cannot speak to Takagi or Yamanaka. Detective Tanaka is handling – "
"Why not? Can we leave a message or something?"
The woman seemed vaguely annoyed, but replied, "They are no longer police officers. Is there a reason you can't speak to Tanaka instead?"
Taro trod heavily on Miura's foot and said, "Those two were investigating a case at my school about a month ago. That's why we want to talk to them."
"I'm afraid they both resigned yesterday."
"They resigned? Why?" Taro wondered, startled.
"Inspector Yamanaka has gone into retirement. Now, do you want to speak to Tanaka?" The woman fixed him with an even stare which clearly said that she didn't think two schoolboys were worth Tanaka's time. And considering their outlandish story, she could have been forgiven for it.
"What about Takagi?"
"As of yesterday, he is no longer a police officer and I am not at liberty to give out his details. If you want to contact him, I'm sure you can find him in a telephone directory." She was looking rather sour by now. "If you have any information pertaining to the Kira investigation, you may call the number on this card."
"Sorry," said Taro, although he wasn't sure what exactly he was apologising for. Miura took the card and they left the police station together.
"But don't you think it's weird? That they both resigned like that? I mean, even Yamanaka didn't look old enough to retire. Think it has anything to do with Kira?"
"Give it a rest, Miura," Taro begged.
"I think that Kira definitely has the death note," Miura continued. "We should ring this number."
"We? You can if you want. Nobody will believe you. There's no point talking to anybody if it's not Takagi or Yamanaka."
Miura shrugged. "You're probably right. Maybe they won't believe us, but don't you think we should still try? We know how Kira kills people. That's not something we can just keep to ourselves!"
"Think about it, Miura. We aren't the only two people who know this, remember? Takagi and Yamanaka know, and they're police officers. But when we come to talk to them, we find out that they've both just resigned?"
"Are you… are you saying that maybe Takagi and Yamanaka are Kira?"
Taro shook his head, trying to get his thoughts straight. "I don't think so. They know that we know. If one of them was Kira, they would have killed us and probably each other by now."
"So why would they resign, then? Wouldn't they want to catch Kira?"
"I don't know." Taro sighed and stuck his hands in his pockets. "They probably know way more about the Kira case than we do. If they both decided to stay out of it, then I'm gonna stay out of it too."
"But… we can't just – "
"You can do whatever you want, Miura. I'm going home."
Taro turned his back and slouched off. Miura stared forlornly after him, wondering what it was about himself that nobody liked.
Miura had never had much in the way of friends. He didn't know what it was, but something about him just attracted bullies like a magnet. And although he had always regarded Taro (the other school loser) as a sort of comrade, it seemed like even Taro didn't want to be around Miura for long.
Sighing, Miura turned the small card over in his hands. Taro was right: nobody would believe what he had to say, but he wouldn't let that stop him from trying.
"He came back to life when you erased his name from the notebook?"
"Yup."
Matsuda tried to keep his face looking appropriately grim, but he just couldn't take this Miura kid seriously. He thought of asking for the names of the friend and two police officers allegedly involved, but decided it wasn't worth the trouble. Why did he always end up interviewing the whack jobs?
"Please read this over, make sure your details are correct and sign here." Not that it mattered; this kid's story was going straight into the 'crazy' files.
Miura signed and handed the piece of paper back to Matsuda. "Thank you sir, for listening to me," he said quietly. "I know it seems insane, but it's the truth."
"It's okay," said Matsuda, flashing a kind grin as he showed Miura the door. "The truth can be pretty strange sometimes. You know your way from here? Okay, then. Bye… phew." Closing the door, Matsuda raked a hand through his hair and shook his head. He had to give the kid credit for creativity, but it was a waste of time too.
"I'm not a police detective anymore. I'm afraid I can't help you." Takagi's voice was firm.
"Why?" Taro couldn't understand it.
"You want to know why I resigned? Fine. I suppose if anyone has the right to know…" There was a pause; Taro could hear Takagi coughing at the other end of the line. "Yamanaka and I didn't resign voluntarily. We lost our jobs. But it doesn't matter. I won't fight for a job I don't want, and I won't risk my life for a cause I don't believe in."
"But that means…"
"Yes, I support what Kira does. I've seen too many unforgivable crimes go unpunished. Look, take my advice: just keep your head down and forget all about the notebook. Kira doesn't mess around, so don't put yourself or your family in danger. Don't go playing hero where you're not wanted, kid."
"I wasn't going to – "
"I'm serious! Just stay out of Kira's way and you won't get hurt!"
Taro was silent, eyes wide. Had he just been threatened? He didn't know: it felt like his brain had ground to a halt.
Takagi cleared his throat. "Look, I didn't mean to yell at you, but you really need to take this on board. Don't talk to anyone about the notebook. You'll be safe if you just shut up and stay put. Okay?"
"…Yes sir."
"Good. Now do me a favour and don't call this number again."
There was a crackle and a clack as Takagi hung up. Taro listened to the tone and slowly released the breath he'd been holding.
Takagi: Kira. Was it possible? No, he hadn't thought so before, but now he couldn't think clearly; he couldn't remember how he'd reached that conclusion. All rational thought was driven completely out of his mind by fear.
Kira doesn't mess around…
He was barely aware of himself as he made his way over to the piano and lifted the notebook out of its hiding place. He could still remember the kanji: it hadn't been that long ago, and Ryuk had been right there, telling him how easy it would be to kill them if he memorised the names…
… so don't put yourself or your family in danger.
Lifting pen from paper, Taro stared at the page and counted.
Forty seconds.
He picked up the phone and pressed redial.
Just stay out of Kira's way and you won't get hurt.
"Takagi speaking."
"Oh!" Taro physically flinched in surprise, fumbling the phone and almost dropping it.
"Who is this?" Takagi demanded, in a tone that said he knew very well who it was.
"I'm sorry sir! I just pressed redial by mistake!" Without waiting for a response, Taro hung up and stared at the death note in unblinking disbelief. The name was right there in front of him: the ink had barely dried. No cause of death. Takagi should have died of a heart attack, but by some strange twist of fate he'd escaped.
"There's no way the death note could have failed," Taro whispered to himself. "Maybe it can't be used to kill the owner of another death note? No, Miura's notebook worked on me… I must have made a mistake with the name. What was I thinking?"
He blinked and snapped the notebook shut: it was as if he'd woken up from a trance. The knowledge that he'd just tried to kill a person hung unpleasantly overhead, like a fog in the room. The memory of Ryuk's cackling laughter seemed to echo inside his head.
Clutching the notebook to his chest, he gripped the corners with enough force to turn his fingers bone-white. His mind was in turmoil: even worse than trying to kill Takagi, was the wish that he hadn't failed.