Chapter IV
The sun peers over the mountains, fading the deep blue and purple sky into a light blue with rust like qualities nearest to the ground. White puffy clouds linger over the walled-off city of Konoha.
Light's eyes slit open, dilated and heavy. With a yawn, he stretches his arms out, only to be reminded of Sakura's stay. She lies comfortably on his chest. The television screen flickers continuously with obnoxious noise of children's shows. Switching it off, Light kisses the top of Sakura's head, wiggling her off in attempts to prepare for work. Subsequent to a heated shower, he stands before a mirror—a white cloud of suds on his teeth—and Sakura steps into the doorway, rubbing her eyes. Light nearly chokes on his toothbrush, spitting out the paste. "You always show up at the worst of times." She tilts her head, only half awake. He surrenders the bathroom to her and sorts through his closet for proper attire. Shifting his weight back, he yanks out his favorite suit—black and well-fitted, slender on the waist and legs, giving Light the ultimate appearance of authority. Throwing it on the bed, he unzips his jacket. Sakura nearly walks in, catching a half-second glance of his naked torso. Blushing violently, she rushes back to the entertainment room, covering her mouth.
Fully dressed and groomed, Light attaches the cufflinks, stepping into the entertainment room. Sakura jerks her head up to the realization of his presence, basking in his dominating glow. He smirks at her admiration, "I don't want you to think that just because I'm heading out for work you have to leave. Stay as long as you like and help yourself to the fridge. Also," Light takes something from his pocket, "If you have a sudden urge to come over," he rests the object in her cupped hands, "Here's the key to my house."
Sakura shares glances between the key and Light, nearly refusing to accept it. "I know the distress you are in with Naruto's passing." She lowers her head, ashamed that her grief was so noticeable. "That's why I'm giving this to you, to prevent you from doing anything stupid." She looks back up at him, rising to her feet, bowing in gratitude. The action makes Light jump.
"I can't thank you enough, Light. You are so kind and gentle; you have always been there for Naruto, and now you're here for me. I am forever indebted to you, whatever you ask of me I will try my best to make sure it gets done."
Light bites back his smile with a red face, thinking of several ways she can pay her debt. Stepping forth, he places his hand on her shoulder, making her stand tall. "Right now you just need to mourn, but don't go too heavy on it, you understand?"
She smiles cheerfully, "Of course."
**XXX**
At the obstacle course, L observes his newly-assembled team dodge attacks and evade confrontation as well as resolve it—whether that be in a hostile or recessive manner. Though he watches their acquired abilities, his mind weighs with confliction. Stuffing his hands into his slack pockets, he firmly grasps the pen in his fist. Should I right my wrong? Killing isn't justice, but Light thinks it is.
"Hey, are you even paying attention?"
The brunette with buns catches L's attention, her hands on her hips. "Ehh?"
"You didn't even notice that I threw that knife three meters to the right, reflecting it off the lead pipe and stabbing the ground just next to your left foot."
L looks down to find the evidence of her statement. He picks it up, "Tenten is it? You will address me properly and with respect. Now complete your exercises." She grunts with her next throw.
These children have no manners or respect for authority. It will be difficult to teach them if they choose not to listen. On the contrary, it is the same if I am unwilling to pay attention, L thinks to himself, tucking away the thoughts regarding Light.
The boy with red hair stands with his arms crossed, straight-faced at the sly remarks of the boy with red cheeks. L peers down at his clipboard once again, struggling to remember their names. "Umm, Gaara, and Kiba? Why haven't you started your sparring for today?"
Kiba points at Gaara menacingly, "This guy just stands there! He doesn't take my battling seriously. How am I supposed to progress with this shmuck in my way?"
L's shoulders slouch, "Then push him out of the way, whatever gets you guys moving. Geez, it's only five minutes a day, I'm not asking for much."
"If he ever posed more of a challenge, maybe I'd actually have to move." Kiba's eyes flare at Gaara's provocative statement.
"That's it, you two run laps. You can stop when I say so." Gaara nods while Kiba grumbles. Marking on the checklist of objectives, L updates his team's status—the results not being too favorable. With a sigh, he thinks deeply about his students, their lives of today and yesterday. Keeping the knowledge of their ninja-like abilities under wraps is difficult enough, and their lack of progression doesn't give any leeway. However, despite the challenging goal of training them, they are people too. If Light caught wind of their true identities, they would breathe no more. That is not justice.
"If these three were to drop dead before my eyes, I wouldn't be able to live with myself, knowing what—or who, rather—killed them," L mumbles to himself quietly. Grasping the clipboard fiercely, L concludes these worries with a simple solution.
**XXX**
Light studies the pandemic of the plaguing shinobi, searching through records of alleged chakura-user sightings as well as those on record for being suspected. Thus far, they are either dead or the data is inconclusive. What he doesn't realize is the grief-stricken façade he will soon have to put up for a specific, unravelling event.
L bursts through Light's door, ignoring Hinata's pleas to remain at her desk. "I have to talk to you."
Light stands to close the door, assuring Hinata that all is well. Turning around, he sees the seriousness in L's eyes. "Aren't you supposed to be training your new team today?"
"I left them with a list-full of achievements to reach while I'm away. Now tell me where you're keeping the Death Note."
Light gives a perplexed look, "Excuse me?"
"You heard me. You can't be allowed to dictate who lives and who dies. It's unethical."
Light folds his arms, "Oh, but you are?"
"I have no intention of using it."
"Yes, well, how am I supposed to know that for certain? You expect me to just hand over the ultimate weapon?"
L sighs, "No I didn't, but I was hoping you would." He keeps other plans to himself at the moment.
"Well I'm not," Light makes his way back to his desk, crossing his legs over the surface while reclining in his chair, holding his head in a relaxed fashion, "So you can just go back down to the basement with your paltry team."
On the far end of the room, a miniature television fades back into the news with a breaking story. A man has gained access to the station's programming and stands on a stage normally used to hold press conferences. "I can prove Kira isn't God! If he still lives, he will show us now. I have reveled in the love of the great Lord Jashin, and in turn he's given me immortality! I am Hidan, proud slave of Jashin, and I declare Kira's powers are not as universal as he so deceives."
Light's heart pumps with animosity. The audacity of that cretin. L looks over from the corner of his eye, knowing exactly what Light's thinking. It makes him nervous, knowing Light holds such power. Light may even decide to end this man's life simply for testing his power. Erm, or rather Kira's power.
Acting as nothing is out of sorts (and that Hidan has a last name) Light scribbles into the Death Note placed so peculiarly it's not noticeable as anything besides his research on crime. L is surprised at Light's ability to render unaffected by the coax, thus relieved he shan't resort to critical tendencies. With a smile and sigh of relief, L returns his attention to the TV, knowing everything will be alright.
Hidan rips open his shirt, asking—no—daring Kira to perform the ultimate sin. In the next second his chest thrusts out. He curls over, grabbing at his chest with a sound of hoarse delight. L's heart sinks, realizing the truth of the situation. Hidan holds out his hand for his accomplices to keep the film rolling. "Ohh..." He stands straight, holding his head in a crazed state of mind, "That felt so good!"
Light's and L's eyes bulge in unison. The crowd gasps, turning heads and asking questions on the sincerity of the performance. Light removes his feet from the surface of his desk and stands, leaning on the wooden structure in disbelief. L turns to face Light, "You just couldn't help yourself, could you?"
"What're you talking about? I didn't do anything. He's still alive after all."
"Then why do you look so pale?"
Light scowls, a cold sweat trickling down his back. Rolling his hands into fists, he calmly flips his hair, stretching his spine into a tall stature.
Hidan laughs crazily, rushing the crowd. "And now that you know I can't be stopped, no one can save you!" Whipping out a three-bladed scythe out of nowhere, he begins to slaughter the people, carving through them as a personal project in ceramics. The crowd disperses in a panic while the authorities stand their ground, opening fire on him. Countless bullets zip through Hidan's body as he races towards the officers, slicing them down excitedly with wild laughter. Two of his accomplices halt those who wish to take down the satellite and disrupt the program while the last keeps hacking the system. Screams of his victims fill the streets. Zipping over to the window, planting his hands on the glass, Light watches those fortunate enough to escape and flee to the shadows. Most of the gatherers remain within the complex though. Light returns to the screen at the sound of explosions. A blonde man with mouths on his hands planted explosives at all exits, hence the entrapment of the civilians. He flies on a pure white bird large enough to ride, odd enough. Sweeping up his comrades and residing at a safe distance, one steps up to the stage. Hidan continues with his merciless killing spree in the center of the collage.
"Good God," L gasps.
A man with long, luxurious black hair and red body armor fiddles with his hands. He looks to be an older gentleman. Inhaling deeply, the man holds his breath momentarily. Most of the crowd calms to witness his plans. L holds his breath. Light, with his mouth agape, refuses to peel away from the scene, rage boiling within his core. The man pushes out the air in his lungs, forming a gigantic fireball. The flames spread amongst the people as kindling, fueling the irrational blaze. Their screams of agony pierce L's ears. Light's heart stops, trying to convince himself he didn't fail. As the people burn into ash, frail but exceedingly stiff corpses line the plaza. The man has a smirk on his face with folded arms, proud of this display. Crisp flesh rises into the atmosphere as a translucent wave of heat distorts the surroundings a foot above the piles of the deceased. Hidan shuffles through the coarse bodies, shooting to a stance, covered in third-degree burns. "Ohh geez, you think it'll scar?"
Silence befalls the city as the transmission is cancelled. A tear falls from L's eye as he breathes deeply. Light brushes his chest, flattening the fabric of his suit from his erratic motions. He turns off the screen from the hazy static. L glares spitefully at him, wishing him nothing but misery. Suddenly the door opens and a slender young man with a half-burnt face steps in. He smiles kindly, clearly unknowing of the events taken place.
"Hello, I'm Mello. I'd like to steal a few minutes from you." L wipes his face, proceeding to exit. As he does, Mello hands him a card, saying that he'll be in question next. L nods with a final glance at Light, the look being cold and bitter. The door closes and Light relaxes.
"So," Light crosses his arms, "who are you again, 'Mello?'"
"Private detective, I'm investigating the death of Naruto Uzumaki."
The hair on the back of Light's neck spikes, a chill running down his spine. Ire flares in his eyes, "Oh? And what do you want from me?"
"I only wanted to ask you a couple of questions," Mello smiles, oblivious to Light's sinister glare. "About your relationship with him, you were—"
Light shakes his head, "I still don't understand. Why are you investigating his untimely death? Who hired you?"
"Uhh, I can't tell you that. But if you'd just answer my questions you'd be doing me a world of good."
"This is absurd! I should be the one investigating this, not some kid who barely made it out of public school."
Mello frowns, flipping out a notepad and neatly writing a bullet point. "Thank you for your time." He bows, reaching for the exit.
"Hold it right there! What kind of relevance is this to you?"
Mello rolls his shoulders with a sigh, "I only do what I'm paid to." With another slight bow, he exits, closing the door behind him. Light's arms drop to his sides, his fists trembling.
"Bastard," He spits out. In his rage, Light grabs a heavy book placed underneath the Death Note and heaves it at the television, bursting it into pieces. Mello quells this just outside the door, adding to his note. Approaching Hinata with a bright face, he respectfully asks of Light's history, personality, and bond with Naruto, as well as the changes between his life before and after Naruto was declared clinically dead.
Light shakes with everything that's happening. "First an attack, now this? Naruto was my best friend, but now it's not my responsibility to solve his murder?" Landing a punch on his desk, he curses ominously. "The new world is no less cruel than the old." Sting covers Light's eyes as the presence of tears becomes germane, until he suddenly realizes something. He gasps, laughing at himself. Dragging his hand up his face and into his hair, he asks, "Why did it take me so long to realize?" He drags the Death Note over, clicking his new pen ready. "I know that man's real name."
Before he concludes Mello's fate, Light thinks for a moment.
Whoever his employer is must suspect me of Naruto's death. In that case, I'll have to convince him or her otherwise.
Light writes ambitiously in his little black book, then places the words "Mihael Keehl" prior to the passage.
With a feeling of accomplishment, Light leans back in his chair, hands laced in his lap. "It's not my best work." He looks up at the ceiling, frowning to recent events. One problem is solved, but it was just radioed-in that the authorities lost the trail on the shinobi scum from the attack. Apparently flying is not at their disposal, what with the thoroughly depleted resources from the war, and not everybody has wings or gigantic pet birds.
Mello retreats from the Commissioner's secretary, receiving only basic information on Light. In the elevator, he makes a call to his client. "Hello, it's me. I've covered most variables but there's a loose end I'd like to tie up before moving on. Are you familiar with Light Yagami? ...Ahh, alright. I'll meet you there." Stashing away the device, Mello waits for the doors to open, something just now changing in him.
At his house, Light is disappointed to see that Sakura has left. She pinned a note on his counter, informing him of the wonderful time she had, but that she over-stood her welcome. The house has been empty for hours, she must've felt obligated to leave, just as I feared would happen.
With a sigh, he unloads his briefcase in his study, locking the Death Note in a secure drawer in routine. Leaving for the shower, he strips himself of his clothes, knowing full well of events happening far from his home. He stands in the shower, tilting his head as cold water soaks his body. That constant sweat-fest from earlier really called for a second cleansing. What he doesn't hear is the low tone of creaking hinges. An intruder has stepped through his front door, quietly roaming through the house in search of something. First the intruder ruffles through and under furniture, but places everything in the exact position it was in before. Next, after the options children would utilize were exhausted, drawers are the subsequent target. Tiptoeing into the hallway, the water stops. Light steps out to dry off, completely unaware. Now under severe caution, the intruder continues the journey to Light's bedroom, filing through his dresser and closet.
Shaking the water from his hair, Light leaves the bathroom, a towel wrapped around the curvature of his hip. Listening to Light's footsteps approaching, the intruder disappears in a cloud, only to reappear in the living room. Light flips on the lights in the room, witnessing the remains of the intruder's magical act. "Smoke?" He inches over, waving his hand through the fading mist. Gritting his teeth, he reaches for his dresser drawer and pulls it, grabbing for the revolver taped to the inner ceiling. He loads it accordingly. Snapping the chamber into place, he turns off the safety and proceeds to leave his room, holding the gun up at an angle. The intruder continues to scope areas of the house, unalarmed. With Light's heightened eyesight, his surroundings focus significantly clearer than before, and when he reaches the entertainment room, the intruder's frame is unmistakable. Holding out the gun with a strong arm, Light purposely aims for the shoulder, pulling the trigger. An explosion thunders in the air, echoing in the room. It is an exact hit. The intruder yelps with harsh grunts as he falls back onto the hardwood floor. Light flips the switch, gasping but keeping his grip strong. He finds a familiar one, whom he was once acquainted and presumed MIA.
"Sasuke?"
He collects his thoughts as Sasuke grimaces at the pain, impressed with Light's skill. He picks at his sleeve, the fabric peeling off his skin, sticking due to the red substance oozing from his wound. The shot hurts a great deal, with lead leaking into his bloodstream and the burn from the friction making it all the more appealing. Shaking away his shock, Light returns to a strong stance, merging forward, holding the gun to Sasuke's head. "You've trespassed on my property. I have the right to shoot you."
"Tsk, you won't."
"What was that," Light tenses.
Sasuke leans his head back with a look of superiority, "You know of my clan's trademark jutsu, no? My Kekkei Genkai: the Sharingan?" Sasuke watches Light's expression change as his odds of success dwindle in the single digits. "You move too slowly, and I could trap you in a genjutsu, or set you on fire. You name it."
"Hmpf, pretty tough talk for a guy who's bleeding to death."
"What're you talking about?"
Light lowers his gun and shoots Sasuke in both knee caps, then in the gut twice. The motion was too quick and unpredictable that even Sasuke couldn't react. The injured man screams in pain, astonished at Light's bravery. A spatter of blood whips onto Light's flesh, giving him a rush. Raising his aim back at Sasuke's head, he smiles. "Now you'll go to Hell, right where you and your filthy kind belong." Sasuke glares with one eye, the pain being too great for further strength to be exerted.
Just as Light tugs at the trigger, a bright globe power-shoves him to the wall. He slides down to the ground, head throbbing to the sudden jolt. Coughing to catch his breath, Light brings his head up to see a woman with long, dark chocolate hair hoisting him over her shoulder. She faces him, and Light is put-off to his disrespectful assumption that this tall man was a petite woman. He recognizes the structure of his face from the files he scanned through earlier. "Neji Hyuga," he grumbles.
Neji says nothing, only watches in disapproval. Light tries to reach for the gun, but Neji kicks it away. Sasuke coughs weakly, blood seeping between his teeth. "Ack, dammit." Light smirks, proud of the deed being done. Neji's eyebrows twitch in anger, but he does nothing, he simply walks away, Sasuke hanging favorably on his shoulder.
Light rolls over onto his back, starting to laugh ravingly. "You're all dead." His laughter grows. "You're all going to die!" His psychotic mentality matches that of Hidan's. "And I'll be the one to do it," He huffs. "You hear me? You'll all die by my hand, God's hand!"
Slowly leaving the premises, Sasuke droops his head. "I hate that guy."
"We all do," Neji answers coldly.
An hour or so later, Light picks himself off the floor, heading to his room for proper attire. On his way, he feels a set of eyes on him and stops in the midst of his passage. Scanning the area, he can't see nor hear anything, so he brushes off the sensation. He continues onward. Outside, at the back door located on the far side of the living room, a figure stands, watching intently.