Hello again.

To those of you who might be confused that this chapter has been uploaded before, this is the revised version. More happens in this one.

Some of this chapter relies on your knowledge of past events in TBOYH, so you might want to read back if you're a bit rusty. After all, it has been *cough* six months *cough* since Chapter 8.

I hope you enjoy.

For the most part, L remained distant from Fumiko's schemes, even after the incident with the surgical knives. He had her put up in one of the unused floors of the Investigation HQ, supplying her with food and medication whenever necessary. However, as her ideas became more elaborate, L found himself becoming drawn further and further into the woman's mad world.

Her ideas were fairly innocuous at first; a mysterious noise, a china doll. L's own obsessive nature blinded him to Fumiko's to such a point that he only realised quite how far the plan had escalated when he was suggesting she use Fluothane as her sleeping gas of choice.

"Perhaps we should consider a slightly less …risky method," L suggested.

Fumiko raised an eyebrow. "We can hardly get a cast of his face when he's awake. He'd notice that sort of thing. And it'll mean I can put the message on his ceiling."

L pinched the bridge of his nose, his brow furrowed, trying to ignore the pounding headache that had begun to form at the base of his skull. "My objective is to draw a confession from Kira in the most inconspicuous way possible. Were he to catch on to our plan, the entire operation would be ruined. I would prefer to reduce the risk of discovery."

Fumiko's hands twitched – a tell that L had come to learn meant Ojike had taken control. So far, the tailored cocktail of medicines L had her on was keeping her in check, but he could tell that she was itching to break free of her chains. She had even begun trying to scare L himself.

Regarding the detective with a cool gaze, Ojike scowled. "We cannot stop now," she said. Her words were harsh, guttural, each syllable chewed and spat out by her glinting metallic teeth. "I'm so close, so close…"

L did not look at her, instead focussing on the blueprints he had obtained. "I did not say we should stop; by my calculations, this operation still has a very high success rate. However, I do believe that we may need to take a step back."

Eyes flashing menacingly, Ojike let out a low growl that set L's teeth on edge. Outwardly unfazed, L reminded the woman, "We made a deal. Whilst I have given you free reign up to a point, I am still in charge of this case and can easily put you back in the asylum at any time."

Twitch. Fumiko now.

"But you need us, you need her. Why else would you have let us out? Anyone could have done this; an actor, a skilled gymnast, even one of your police lackeys. You chose us for this because of what we are."

"Insane?" L suggested drolly.

"We're not insane, we're…different."

"Call it what you will, the fact remains that we must rethink exactly how we are to go about this operation."

It took three hours, copious amounts of cheesecake, and a handful of painkillers before L managed to talk Ojike into toning down her schemes. She would follow L's instructions to the letter and not deviate in any way.

It wasn't until she had left to enact her wickedness before L realised he had told her to do the exact same dangerous plan she had originally been trying to sneak past him.

He wasn't entirely sure how that had happened.

-x-

L's headache had steadily increased from a dull pounding to a full marching band parading around inside his skull. He did not like how many ways there were for this plan to go horribly wrong. Calculated risks were one thing, but the entire case could be lost forever if Fumiko made even the slightest mistake. If his head would just clear enough for him to think at full capacity, he could easily solve this.

He crunched another Vicodin-laced jam sandwich, grimacing at the bitter taste and hoping that the eighth dose would be the charm.

-x-

It was working.

L almost couldn't believe it. This had been a ridiculous scheme, a madcap idea to stir up the waters a little and make Kira slip. Certainly, L had planned for the final outcome to be a confession, but at the rate Light's nerves were fraying, the detective would have to start getting the handcuffs ready rather soon.

When Light had seen the photo of Ojike, he looked as if he had gazed upon the countenance of Death itself. The young man had been so rattled that he had screamed in horror at something as simple as the lights turning back on.

L slowly sipped his tea as he examined the photograph. He mentally praised Fumiko – the woman was phenomenal at what she did. L knew it was staged, knew that it was just a psychologically damaged girl in a costume, but still, there was something about her, something in those gleaming eyes and claws that made a deep and primal part of L's psyche tell him to run hide flee escape or she'll come she'll get you

Shaking himself out of his musings, L rubbed his throbbing temples and flipped a file open. To the untrained eye, it would appear that the Kira killings had continued without respite. Criminals were still dying at a steady rate, old and newly convicted alike. However, the rate had slowed. Only slightly, barely enough to even be noticeable, but it was there. Satisfied, L pushed the papers out of the way to scrutinise schematics for the complex pneumatic device Fumiko had invented.

As if this action had summoned her, the woman chose that moment to enter. L glanced to see that Fumiko was currently in the driver's seat.

"Ah, you're here. I wanted to talk to you. I'm afraid that I'm going to have to confine you to the headquarters from now on – there are far too many risks if you continue to operate in the field."

Fumiko said nothing, only swaying slightly.

"Oh, of course. You'll have just been given your medication. Was the dosage too high? Do you understand me?"

Fumiko frowned, unsure which question to answer. "I understand," she said shakily. "She's gone to sleep, though. I can't remember the last time she was asleep."

"Is that not a positive thing? You are a very intelligent woman, Fumiko – you would be a great asset if we could properly manage your condition."

"My condition…" Fumiko muttered, her expression distant. Without warning, she darted forward and grabbed L's arm, yanking him off of the sofa. L tensed, his whole body prepared to defend himself if necessary, but aware that remaining calm was a safer option.

"Don't you understand?" the woman hissed. "It's not a condition! She's real! She's real and she's all I am! If you take that away, if you manage it, then I'll just be nothing again. Empty, useless."

L slowly pried her hand from his wrist. "You created Ojike out of a feeling of helplessness, believing that you could not avenge your sister alone. It makes sense that you'd be con—"

"Oh, shut up," Fumiko scoffed. "You think you have it all figured out. Maybe there are things in this world that even someone of your genius can't comprehend." She glanced at her hands, which had started to spasm. "She's waking up."

Fumiko looked up again, eyes wide. "Don't fear her."

Twitch.

"Hello, Ojike."

Ojike ignored him, examining her hands. Apparently satisfied, she regarded L with an amused smirk. "Hello, dear detective. I hear you want to have me confined?"

"It's for the best. You can still contribute to the planning of this operation, and I will allow you to work from within the building, but I would prefer you to stay inside at all times."

Ojike tapped her teeth with an unsettling metallic sound, circling the detective predatorily. L turned with her, not wanting to have his back to her at any time.

"But, detective, how do you know you're making the right decision?"

"I always make the right decision."

"Oh, you poor, sweet thing," Ojike breathed. She leaned in close, brushing L's cheek in a way that was probably intended to be comforting but instead made his hair stand on end. "It's a shame, really. You had such a beautiful mind."

L's head was pounding and his sight was blurred from sleep deprivation, but for one second, just one lurching, heart-stopping second, those were not hands but claws, huge, deadly bone-and-steel claws that dripped with blood, his blood, and they were dug deep into his skull, tearing at his mind and hollowing him out from the inside.

Then he blinked, and the vision cleared.

With no outward sign of his shock, L sent Ojike to her room and had Watari ensure she could not leave. He needed sleep. He had had hallucinations before, but never to this intensity. It was most likely due to the extreme stress of the case, and being in close proximity to a woman who thought she was a vengeance spirit couldn't help much either.

As L went to pick up the photograph of Ojike, he noticed with some annoyance that his hands were shaking.

-x-

Despite getting at least three hours sleep, L did not feel rested. If possible, his headache and fatigue were even worse for his nap. His loss of concentration made him irritable; he had to mentally restrain himself more than once during the investigation. Honestly, how could Light even dare to attempt to conceal his guilt when it was so obvious that he was lying?

Patience. He will be punished in time.

L had to concede to the voice in his head. Light was being punished, was getting exactly what he deserved, and very soon L would solve his puzzle. He would best Kira, beat him at his game of fear and control, tear his heart out and eat it raw dripping still warm still fresh the heart of Death itself

…Where did that come from?

-x-

Splashing cold water on his face, L hunched over the sink for a moment, not quite daring to look at the mirror. It was ridiculous, highly irrational, but he was almost scared of what he'd see. These past few days, he'd felt as if his mind was not his own, as if all this talk of ghosts and demons had actually caused something to awaken inside him, something dark and twisted that he'd suppressed for as long as he could remember.

Nobody is perfect, and whilst he'd never admit it, L was no exception. Sure, on paper he was simply doing his job – catching Kira in any way he could – and there was definitely a feeling of satisfaction from getting closer and closer to victory, but this…

When L had seen Light in the lift, cowering, begging for his life, it wasn't just about winning the game. It was glee, pure, sadistic glee at seeing his nemesis so weak and feeble. He had laughed.

Sighing, L slowly raised his eyes. His face looked back at him. His hair, his eyes, all normal. No sign of insanity there.

The grin, however, was new.

Stretched across his face like a slash, quirked up knowingly at one corner, the smirk of his reflection taunted him, daring him to rationalise this, then. L reached up a hand to his own mouth to check that it really was contorted like that, that he wasn't just hallucinating again, seeing the ghost of someone who had worn his face before.

No, that's definitely me.

A knock at the door. Startled, L quickly pulled at his cheeks, literally forcing the smile off of his face. It was Watari.

"Sorry to disturb you, L, but I thought you'd like to know that the laptop mechanism worked. The film was played to Light and the blood packs popped at the correct time. I believe that young Mr Yagami was quite taken in by the whole event."

L nodded. "Excellent. I shall call him in, then." As the older man went to leave, L stopped him. "Watari, do you… do you think that this plan is acceptable?"

"I assume that you are referring to the entire scheme as a whole, and not just this particular aspect of it?"

"Correct."

Watari hesitated. "It is not my place to judge your methods, L. I trust that you consider this to be the superior option, and I will aid you in any way possible."

"Do not insult my intelligence, Watari. Answer the question."

There was a long pause before the man finally spoke. "It is not the best way. But then, what Kira is doing is not the best way, either. If Kira must suffer to understand what he has wrought with his actions, then so be it." With that, he walked away.

L picked at his sleeves, thinking. It was probably the most honest answer he'd get. With one last glance at the mirror, he left the bathroom, taking his phone from his pocket and dialling Light's number.

-x-

L awoke to find himself face-down on the coffee table, his headache less 'derived from exhaustion' and more 'struck on the back of the head with a large object.' His mouth tasted of blood and he felt dizzy and befuddled. The emergency lights were on, casting an eerie red glow across the room.

He slowly lifted himself up, wincing at the slight movement, and tried to remember what had happened. Light had been there, definitely. L recalled how perfectly the man had responded to his theatrics. The lights had gone out, as planned, and Light had fled in terror. But then – what?

If the emergency power had come on, that must mean something had gone wrong with the generator. Perhaps it had failed after Light left. No, not failed, L reasoned, wincing as he cradled the back of his head. It was sabotaged. Ojike may have rigged something up so that she could escape. She had previously been in charge of the lights; it would be no mean feat for her to have created a contingency plan.

L limply grabbed his phone, pausing as a wave of nausea swept over him. It would not do the case any good if he threw up all over the floor. Although there was no discernable damage, he felt as if something had cracked his skull open. Once it had passed, he dialled Watari, who answered immediately.

"If this is about the power, I'm working on it."

"Was the generator sabotaged in any way?"

"It's hard to tell. As far as I can see, it was caused by an electrical fault. However, it's exceedingly unlikely that both generators would simultaneously have the same fault."

"Hm. Have you been watching the cameras at all?"

"As much as I would love to, I cannot be in two places at once, L. I have left them recording, and all data can easily be reviewed, but I have been trying to fix the power."

"The primary power is unnecessary if emergency power keeps the cameras running. Has Fumiko remained in her room?"

There was a pause before L heard Watari quickly dash into the observation room. "She should be there… the locks are controlled by an independent power source…Ah, yes. She's in there, L. Secure and confined."

"Are you certain? There isn't a loop feed, or some kind of false image?"

"I don't think—" Watari cuts off as the main power is finally restored. "Wait. Ah. I'm sorry, L, but …it would appear that Fumiko has escaped."

L didn't even hear him. The main lights had come back on, flooding the room with fluorescent white.

But L was still bathed in red.