Her Mother was a spiny woman. With mousy hair, a pale completion and what seemed to be a permanent scowl engraved onto her foundation encrusted, wrinkled skin she wasn't a very pleasant woman to look at. You could tell at one point in time she had been very pretty, with large bright green eyes that still retained their familiar luster and long, luscious eyelashes that were draped elegantly over these same eyes. Though it was still difficult to get past that frown that only deepened as the years went by.

It was also very difficult to entertain this woman or please her for that matter.

Mira felt that scowl in its fullness glaring down at her. Shifting uncomfortably she fiddled with frayed end of her backpack, which was on her lap, tearing at it and tugging to pull her mind away from the current happenings.

Her Mother's disagreement was something to be reckoned with.

The skyscraper itself was massive. Impressive building construction the top of it was a distinct point, like an arrow, made out of fine copper. This same copper was maintained rigorously, replaced if need be. The pocketbooks of the owners of this grand building were never ending.

You would walk into to doormen opening and closing either of the double doors, bowing slightly and nodding as they welcomed you to the Richardson Building. From there you'd find yourself in the lobby, Persian rugs lining the doorway, a large waterfall cascading down into the shallow pool, exotic plants placed tastefully in the right places all leading to the reception desk and the eight sets of elevators.

At the reception desk any normal person would find it very difficult trying to get it but it was a whole different case with Mira.

She had been escorted in and led directly to the elevators. No need for having to confirm her identity or her reasons for being there to them.

25...30...35...40...45...49

Finally reaching the 49th floor she had then been kindly abounded and was casually sitting on a fashionable, modern looking couch that she supposed cost more than her entire home back with her Dad.

Destined to wait the girl silently sat there, a deep look of worry or what could be considered regret sprung across her face. That was until the door opened abruptly. That look quickly dissipated.

"Samira." Her Mother said, flinging open the double doors and walking briskly over to her daughter. "Mom..." Mira got up to greet her Mother who awkwardly attempted at giving her a hug. With puckered lips she examined her daughter, pulling back to look at the damage. Without saying anything she knew her Mother was silently sizing her up, examining her daughter so to speak more like the high-end fashion designer she was than a mother. But she held her tongue and smiled ruefully, like she had better things to do than be here.
"I'm so happy you're here." Her Mother said, managing a forced smile that played at the ends of her lips.

Mira smiled as brightly as she could. I had been awhile since she saw her mother last and even though her Mother's opinion of her only children wasn't that of spectacular she knew her Mother still loved her. Underneath those scowls was compassion, she hoped.

"Yeah, it has been awhile." Maria replied, nodding vigorously.

"Well, come on into my office." Motioning towards her office her Mother started towards the glass doors outlined in stainless steel. A modern looking reception desk sat to the right side of this office, a woman looking up with great interest. She had been typing furiously just a minute ago, not breaking stride even as Maria had snuck inside but now with the appearance of her boss she was suddenly interested. The woman watched curiously and Maria slightly embarrassed hurriedly shuffled after her Mother, slinging her bag back over her shoulder and pulling her suitcase along with her.

She wasn't one for the attention.

The office was as beautiful as the rest of the building. Richly decorated in modern looking fixtures, placed appropriately that accented the huge windows that over looked New York City. The heavy hustle and bustle sounds that were usually clearly heard were barely detectable, the occasional siren or blaring of a horn the only noise that ever disrupted this silence. A large frosted glass desk sat in the center, surrounded by two black leather chairs in the front and one behind it. A large mirror was in the left corner of the room, two large hangers of clothing next to it. Multiple fabrics sat propped up against one another, all of different quality and texture and all very expensive. In the opposite corner were bookshelves lined with fashion magazines and delicately placed knickknacks. There were picture frames everywhere, mostly of fashion magazines; one had the picture of her Mother in it, rubbing her chin with a devious look. On her desk was an expensive looking picture and a small picture of herself Maria noticed, packed behind the many piles of files and what she assumed her other important things.

"I'm very pleased you finally decided to take up my offer."
Maria looked up, startled when her Mother spoke. Quickly she took a seat, pulling her things in close to her.
"Yeah, I liked the idea of taking up a modeling career." Maria told her, almost a little to quickly as she stumbled over her words.
Her Mother nodded, walking over to her desk and taking a seat.
"Well…" A perfectly groomed eyebrow raised slightly in a questioning way. "I'm very happy. I assume you know where I'd like you to go first on your tour of reaching your fullest potential."

"Yes, Japan." Maria replied, nodding once.
"Yes, that's correct." Her Mother placed both hands on her desk, clasping them together out in front of her. Her fingernails were painted a pale pink.

"I have some very good friends in the industry who'd be more than happy to take you in. You're grandparent's will look after you while your there."
"Yes." Maria said.
"Okay, you're plane leaves tomorrow. I've already made preparations, Gustavo will be there to pick you up tomorrow at 9:00 sharp to take you the airport."

Maria swallowed. That soon… She thought she'd have a little time with her mom, or in New York at least.

"Okay." She nodded meekly, her eyes dropping to the floor.
"Good, well I have things to attend too. You can either go into the city or up to the room."

"I'll just go up to the room." Maria told her mom, "Jetlag." Looking up the girl managed a huge smile that tittered precariously on the edge of breaking down.
"Fine, I'll see you later then." Her Mother's uninterested eyes drifted from her daughter to the piles of papers at her desk as her cell phone rang. The second she picked up that phone and began discussing matters about the recent issue of her fashion magazine Maria had been forgotten.
She got up silently and left.

Her Mother didn't even notice

After getting off the plane Raito had found himself wandering. He pulled at his chin, smelling the air.

That smell, it had just been outside.
He felt the frown hollowing out his perfect face, his eyes narrowed in suspicion.

"Where are you?" He said softly, sniffing carefully as he floated amongst the people.
"You're disguising yourself against me." Quietly Raito sunk back into himself, disappearing into a dark mass and just watched.

"There you are…" Watching the deboarding plane Raito hissed.

L Lawliet was floating there, looking for something obviously acting oblivious to Raito's position. But by the way he paused when looking over in his direction Raito knew L had saw him.

He snarled to himself.
"You're the bastard. How Befitting."

He decided to keep his distance for the mean time, wondering how to make this work for himself and ultimately decided on watching what L was going to do next.

It had only taken a short period of time but Raito watched L make his move though use of the cabby. The shinigami scratched the side of his face, his eyes staring off into the distance when a thought struck him.

A maniacal smile curled across his lips. He knew what he was going to do.

"Heh."