Feline Faults
ChipsAhoyPup
Disclaimer: I don't own Death Note. Never have, never will. (This doesn't stop me from wishing I did, though.)
L lay in the box, his feeble mews of protest muffled by the piece of cloth that was wrapped around his muzzle. He was thrown against the cardboard walls of the box as it rattled from the motion of Mello carrying it. Clearly the human was purposefully shaking the box back and forth just to torture the cat more.
To make it worse, there were no air holes in the box. The cloth that covered both L's mouth and nose at the same time wasn't helping much. As he felt the oxygen slowly drain from his confinement, he grew dizzy. His head got uncomfortably stuffy, and he found it harder and harder to keep his eyes open.
Soon, the box was dropped. Hard. L squeaked in pain as gravity caused him to smack against the top of the box before dropping to the bottom again. He was panting heavily, struggling to stay conscious. He knew that the moment he let himself slip into sleep that tugged at his paws, he would never wake up.
But it was only a few minutes before L couldn't fight it any longer. His eyelids drooped, and he was enveloped in darkness that was much more comfortable than it should be.
"You did a good job today," A sheriff said, staring proudly at a young police officer who stood anxiously in front of his desk. The name tag on the sheriff's desk read Soichiro Yagami.
"Thanks, Dad." The brunette officer smiled pleasantly at Soichiro.
"You may go home now." The officer dipped his head slightly, a gesture of gratefulness. Then he turned and began to leave. But he barely made it to the door before the sheriff added, "I'm proud of you, Light."
"…Yeah, I know," Light answered quietly. Not bothering a second glance, Light hurried out of his father's office. He made sure to leave the police station as quickly and casually as possible, avoiding eye contact with the other officers. A couple of them praised him for a job well done, and each time he just muttered a small "thanks" without looking at them.
When he finally made it out of his workplace, Light sighed in relief. Sure, he loved his job, but sometimes it got way too stressful, and he found himself looking forward to the end of the day. Grumbling to himself, the officer clambered into his car.
Unfortunately, right as he did so, his cellphone went off. Light flinched, then quickly fished it out of his pocket. He groaned out loud when he saw who's name was displayed on the caller I.D. Reluctantly, the brunette flipped the cellphone open and pressed it against his ear. "Hey, Misa."
"Liiiight," An overly cheerful voice chirruped on the other side of the phone. "I just got finished my photo shoot, and I figured that you were done work right about now, so I decided to call," She babbled. Light was barely listening to anything she said, but made sure to slip in a couple of "uh-huh"s and "yeah"s so that it would seem like he was grasping her every incoherent word.
Goddammit, why did I marry her, again? Light thought grumpily as he struggled to tune out her voice and focus on the road. Oh yeah, because I was stuck in a rut and she's a stupid rich girl who falls for me every time I blink an eyelash. He silently sighed, making sure not to do it outwardly. Otherwise, his stupid wife would catch on. Well, actually, it would probably be drowned out by her mindless babbling and she wouldn't notice in the least.
"That's great, Misa," Light was finally able to interject. "I'm at the house right now, so I'll meet you there, okay?"
"But Liiiiiight, I won't be home for another hour," She whined. It was taking all Light's self-control to not throw the cellphone at the windshield.
"You can live an hour without hearing my voice, can't you?" He asked through gritted teeth.
"Noooo," She complained.
"Just deal with it." And he shut his phone. He wasn't worried about her being angry. She was never angry at him. Ever. He was sure that if he slapped her across the face, she would believe that she deserved it and do nothing at all about it. Not even call the police as a rebuttal.
Well, technically he was the police, but that wasn't the point.
Light got out of his car, shut the door of the car, and walked around it. He stared blankly at his apartment. He had a rich wife, and yet, they lived in such a dump. He tried to keep it as organized as possible, and indeed, it was quite clean for an apartment. But nevertheless, it was an apartment, and those were always dirty on the outside.
The officer approached his house, pulling his house keys out of his pocket. But just as he was about to stick them into the lock, he noticed a large cardboard box was in the way of the door. "Huh. That's weird. I didn't order anything," The brunette said to himself, staring curiously at the box. "…Oh, it's probably more cosmetics for Misa."
Sighing, he crouched down to pick it up. He grunted as he lifted it off the ground. "This is heavier than makeup is supposed to be." Mumbling to himself again, he used one hand to hold the box and the other to shove the key into the lock and twist it. The door unlocked with a click, and Light pushed it open, stomping into the house. By now, he was fairly sure that the box wasn't for Misa. It was too heavy.
"I hope it's not another prank. Curse my ancient relatives for my horrid last name*," Light grumbled. Slightly irritated now, he inspected the top of the box. It was taped shut unprofessionally and tightly. It looked like he'd have to use a chainsaw to get the box open.
Not wanting to destroy what ever was in the box, just in case it wasn't a prank, Light grabbed a pair of safety scissors instead. He carefully slit the layers of tape off the top of the box. When all the tape was gone, he stared at the bare brown top of the box. He hesitated for a moment before peeling the cardboard top open.
"Oh my God…" If this was a prank, it was the cruelest one Light had ever seen.
*Light's last name: I think about 87 percent of the Death Note fandom already know this, especially the yaoi fangirls. But let me help the 13 percent out: Spell Yagami backwards.
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If you don't get Imagay, you're doing it wrong.