Chapter Nine

A light breeze swept cold fingers over the flushed skin of his cheeks and brow, cooling the sweat that gathered there. The sudden chill and the horrifying nature of his dreams were enough the pull him roughly from sleep and into wakefulness. As he sat up, he let his head rest on his upturned palms, eyes closed and breathing loudly as his heart slowly regained a steady speed. Disjointed fragments of the nightmare flittered behind his eyelids, but before he could make sense of them, they had faded past remembrance.

When he had managed to regain some sense of calm, he lifted his head from the cradle of his hands and surveyed the room. At first he could not point at the source of anxiety that unsettled him, but as reason returned he came to realise that the room was very unfamiliar. This started his heart racing yet again and he briefly wondered whether he was still trapped in the nightmare. Taking a deep breath, he scanned the room once more, looking for some clue as to whose bed he had slept in as well as the time and place.

His first impression was that the room was decidedly female, the presence of a dozen dolls staring back at him with various degrees of sadness and glee a testament to that fact. Gothic was a good way to describe the room's décor, the springtime light doing little to brighten the rooms' atmosphere. The faint lasting scent of a sweet floral perfume clung like a lasting shadow.

If he listened closely, he could even hear the soft words of a female voice singing. The room's closed door muted much of the sound, but even so the voice sounded relatively young. With the knowledge that some unknown person was just beyond the door, Light finally left the bed. Standing, he almost fell over in a sudden wave of disorientation, prompting him to sit on the bed once more. When the feeling had passed, Light stood. He frowned as he came to realise his legs felt heavy and stiff, the weight of standing amplifying the discomfort. The first step forward was clumsy, as was the second. It was almost as though he had not walked in a long time and had forgotten how - an unlikely event!

Glancing upwards from his stumbling feet, Light caught sight of himself in the vanity mirror. His skin looked pasty, as though the sun had not touched him for a while now, making the bags that was beginning to show under his eyes more prominent. Letting his hand drift through his hair in agitation, he shuddered at the grimy feeling of the strands. He could not remember ever having neglected his hygiene and he was most unused to this feeling of grime.

Scoffing at himself for worrying more about his personal appearance than the strange and very unfamiliar surroundings, Light turned from the mirror and advanced to the door. The knob turned easily in his hands, not locked as he had half expected it to be. Pulling it open, he was met with a delicious aroma that temporarily stunned him, the rich flavours calling to him as though he had been much deprived.

He moved slowly towards the kitchen, the soft singing he had heard before becoming clearer. Whoever the occupant of this apartment was, she was quite the good singer. Entering the brightly lit living room, he caught sight of a petite brunette as she danced around the kitchen, the radio backing her singing voice. She was young, as he had guessed earlier, and the gothic nature of her attire only confirmed the fact that it was in her room that he had awoken. He stood for a moment watching her cook, trying desperately to find her face within his memory banks.

He blinked quickly when her eyes suddenly met his, lively gold with his own confused brown. A bright friendly smile lit up her face, her body stilling as she took him in from her spot in the kitchen.

"Ah, good morning! I was starting to think you weren't going to wake up."

Light shifted a little uncomfortably, he really had no clue what was going on and this girl's statement was ominous despite the cheerful tone in which it was given. How long had he been asleep?

"Why don't you go and have a shower? I'm sure you will feel much better for it. Lunch should be ready soon!"

Thinking that a shower would be more than welcome he nodded his agreement. He would be much better able to concentrate on this whole confusing mess when he felt clean. The girl giggled softly to herself and directed him to the bathroom before quickly rushing to her room with a command to wait. When she returned to him, she carried a bundle of neatly folded clothes in her arms, which she presented to him.

"You clothes were dirty, so I had them washed for you."

Realisation of that implication dawned on him as he took the clothes and he could not stop the natural response of glancing at the attire he was currently in. He had not once taken notice that the pyjamas he was wearing was not his own. He must have looked horrified for her laughter brought his attention back to her.

"Don't worry, Misa Misa didn't look!"

With that she danced her way back to the kitchen, singing at the top of her voice along with the radio. Staring after her for a moment, Light shook his head and decided to think on it later. He was dying to take that shower.

He felt a hundred times better when he stepped from the bathroom, the blessed feeling of being clean improving his mood greatly. Misa, as he assumed her name to be, accosted him as soon as he was finished with the news that lunch was ready. His stomach growled at the mention of lunch to which Misa giggled once more. She directed him to sit at the small table and placed a steaming bowl of noodles before him. She joined him with her own bowl and with a pleased 'Itadakimasu!' happily began eating.

Light followed her example, if only to curb the edge off of his hunger before grilling the girl for information. He fumbled a little with the chopsticks, to which he frowned. When had he grown to be this clumsy? He had never before had trouble walking or co-ordinating his hands and fingers to a task they should have well been used to after years of practice. The first bite was heavenly, the taste on his tongue almost overwhelming. He let himself enjoy it for a moment before he turned his attention to the host.

"You'll have to forgive me but who are you?"

The girl put her bowl down and turned her attention to him. Waving a hand dismissivly at his apologetic tone, she answered him.

"Oh don't worry, we haven't formally met. My name is Yamane Misaki, pleasure to meet you."

"Ah, I'm Yagami Light. If we haven't formally met, how is it that I am at you apartment?"

"I found you."

"What do you mean by that?"

"Exactly that. I was walking home from work with a friend you see, I work late so it was quite dark. We were just walking and talking as friends do when we saw you lying just within the shadows of an alleyway. We would have missed you except that my friend Rem is very observant. She doesn't trust people, so you know, she's always looking out for anything suspicious. Anyway, I couldn't just walk away without at least making sure that you weren't injured or anything. Obviously you were fine, and I couldn't smell alcohol on you so I thought I'd better bring you here. No knowing what might happen to you if I leave you there after all. Couldn't have that on my conscious."

Light frowned at this, running through his memories to try and explain how he had ended up in an alleyway, but he came up with a frightening blank. All his memories were faded and unclear, and he found great difficulty in pinpointing the time frame of his memories. What had happened in the last couple of days, a week ago? He couldn't say.

" I thank you for your consideration, but that is a dangerous thing to do. You couldn't know if I was a murderer or criminal at all. It may have been better if for you to drop me off at the police department."

Her features didn't change, but her smile became secretive as though she knew something that she wouldn't tell.

"If you were a threat, my friend would never have helped me bring you here. She is good at reading people."

Not believing such reasoning to be sound but finding no advantage on debating it, Light silently went back to his meal.

"How long was I asleep?"

"Three days."

He paused again at this, Misaki taking in his disbelief with a calm smile.

"Whatever happened to you must have really tired you out."

He ignored her for the moment. He had been here for the last three days, unconscious due to unexplainable circumstances. His parents did not know where he was. No doubt they were highly distressed and here he was calmly eating food provided by a complete and total stranger. He stood quickly, the need to go home almost overwhelming. He was in for a whole lot of trouble.

Misaki watched him but did not rise. Had he been more observant and looking at her, he may have seen the knowing look in her gaze, the small secretly mocking smile of someone who knew more than they should.

"I have to go, thank you for your hospitality."

He bowed briefly to her in thanks, to which she finally stood.

"No problem. Your family must be very worried about you. Come visit me sometime, okay?"

He nodded absently as she walked him to the door. His shoes were neatly sitting by the door and he donned them quickly. He left the apartment then without once looking back, his mind frantically trying to remember the last events so that he would have an explanation once he got home.

He could not remember much of the journey home, working on automatic as his mind sorted through the mess of memories. He stood in front of his house before he felt ready and still without any excuse for his absence. Dread had settled firmly within his gut, his palms growing sweaty and his heart racing. He examined the house exterior, thinking how normal and unobtrusive it seemed. Looking in from the outside, there was nothing to show the potential storm that had been brewing inside.

Chiding himself for procrastinating, he forced himself to the front door. It was unlocked; his mother at least was home. Bracing himself he entered. There was no one waiting for him at the door, so he removed his shoes quietly and slowly walked to the living room. That too was empty, so he proceeded to the kitchen. She stood with her back to him, her arms braced against the counter and her head down. Her shoulders were stiff and her clothes were messy as though she had dressed in a hurry or without care. Light could only remember one instance, many years ago, when his mother had appeared like this. Back then he was young and hadn't understood why his mother and father had fought. All he knew was that his mother wasn't bustling around her kitchen making dinner while humming tunelessly. Then she didn't smile when he approached her, and she didn't do so now.

When she turned at his approach, her face appeared tired and worn. Her eyes were red-rimmed and new lines had appeared between her brows and around her mouth. She looked at him a moment with a harried gaze, before she moved forward and grabbed him into a hug. Her head rested by his shoulder and it did not take long for him to feel tears wetting the fabric of his shirt. She clung to him and silently cried. Not knowing what else to do as he was very much unused to his mother's sudden display of emotion, he kept his arms around her in a loose hug as he waited for her to release him.

At last her tears eased and she stepped back and looked at him. Her hands cupped his chin as she examined his face intently. Then she stepped back and dabbed at her eyes with her apron, straightening the lines of her blouse and brushing away wrinkles in her skirt before walking back to the counter where he had found her.

"Your father would wish to speak with you. He is at the police headquarters. Go talk with him, please."

It was perhaps a reaction only the wife of a cop could give, for Sachiko's dismissive response was odd. But then, Light could not say that he knew her moods at all, for Sachiko kept her emotions to herself. The pleasant motherly persona was her own mask that she hid behind, masking all her insecurities and worries in concern to her husband and her children. But Light had only glimpsed it once before and he was worried for it now.

"Mother…"

"You're father will not be home for dinner, and I suspect neither will you. I have packed dinner for him and there should be enough for you both, take it with you and give it to him please. I have a change of clothes ready as well."

She passed him a bag, neatly packed with the promised items and began scrubbing the counters. She had barely glanced at him through all this. Watching her for a moment, Light turned and left. He was a little unsettled at her entire reaction, having expected something a little more emotional. He kept going over her reaction the entire walk to the police headquarters, whilst fighting away the dread at the inevitable confrontation with his father. It was unlikely that he would take it as quietly as his mother had.

The man at reception recognised him immediately upon his entry, which did not surprise Light at all. He was directed to his father's office, with the promise that his father will be notified of his coming. Not sure whether to be thankful for that or not, Light merely made his way up. The elevator was empty, allowing him to gather his wits and courage in peace without curious eyes to watch him.

His father was waiting for him, watching expectantly as he entered the office. His father bore the same lines of stress that his mother had, with an extra edge of sleepless nights and hard work. There was hollowness in the dark eyes that soon took on a steely edge. Soichiro's jaw was set and his posture stiff, betraying the tension that he was no doubt under.

Light was surprised when he was pulled roughly into a bear hug before being held at arms length. He suppressed the urge to flinch as his father scrutinised him closely. While there was relief in his father's eyes, his mouth was still thinned in displeasure. Light braced himself for a thorough tongue-lashing, and was surprised by the first words his father spoke to him.

"Son, are you alright?"

Where was the anger? He had disappeared for three days without a word, came back uninjured and only a little worse for wear. Surely any parent would feel dignified for their anger after the worry that they suffered through? Provided Light was not entirely responsible, he really had no clue what had happened either. He couldn't even really tell what day it was, having been preoccupied with other matters. Had Misaki told his parents where he was? But, Misaki didn't know who Light was, how could she have contacted his parents?

"I'm fine."

His father looked at him for a moment later, before turning to his desk. He took up his jacket and gathered some papers, putting them in his briefcase. This allowed Light the opportunity to further examine his father. Soichiro had not shaved in a while, something that was quite usual when he was working on a particularly hard case. His suit was slightly creased from long hours of wear, marking the necessity for the change of clothes that he had brought his father. His overall appearance was haggard, and Light felt a twinge of guilt and concern tighten around his heart. His father was getting too old for this.

"Mother had prepared you this."

He passed the bag to his father who accepted it with a small worn smile. He was well used to his wife's concern and appreciated it greatly.

"We'll leave that for later. I want you to come with me."

Without any explanation, Soichiro took up his stuff and opened the door, motioning Light through. The two walked in silence all the way to the carpark, until they were seated in one of the unmarked police cars that his father used at times. Soichiro did not look at Light for a while, concentrating on driving, though it was he who would break the silence first.

"Where were you the last couple of days, Light?"

Light shifted uncomfortably with the knowledge that his lack of answers would not satisfy his father, indeed he himself was not satisfied by it. The rather large gaping hole in his memory was cause for great concern.

"From what I understand, I was unconscious during the last three days."

His father glanced at him with a little surprise and a touch of scepticism.

"You sound unsure about it."

"Yes. I can't remember what would have caused me to be unconscious for three days or why. All I have is the word of the girl that says she found me in the street."

Soichiro's frown became more pronounced as he heard this, and Light began to realise that his father was still very tense. The hands that were gripping the steering wheel were rigid with tension so much so that the knuckles were turning white. Something was off with the situation. Where was his father taking him anyway? He was about to ask when Soichiro spoke again.

"What was the girl's name?"

"Yamane Misaki, I believe."

His father nodded and it was then that Light realised they were coming to a stop at a large building that he did not recognise. There were no signs to mark the name or purpose of the building and that was enough to further discomfit him. This whole day was turning out to be decidedly odd.

Light followed his father from the car and into the unmarked building. There was a reception counter in the lobby entrance, but no one stationed there. Soichiro made for an unmarked door to the left of the counter, stepping through without hesitation. Light had no choice but to follow. They passed through a metal detector, though no security guard eyed them suspiciously. Indeed the curious lack of staff was proof enough that there was much hidden within the bowels of the structure, sensitive enough that not even a skeleton crew could be trusted.

Soichiro steadfastly ignored Light's questioning looks, keeping his eyes forward and his countenance cold and stiff. They entered into a lounge area, decorated in impersonal grey and white. At this point Soichiro paused and heaved a sigh heavy with restrained emotion. His father turned to him and Light was startled at the depth of emotion he glimpsed in his fathers eyes. The dark eyes were sorrowful, edged with anger and regret and aged him well beyond his years. Pulling from his pocket a set of metal handcuffs that gleamed mercilessly in the light, Soichiro finally addressed Light.

"Yagami Light, you are hereby under arrest under the suspicion of being or aiding Kira in the murder of countless men."

__

To say that L was satisfied with the week's proceedings would be somewhat of an understatement. The chair in which he sat was comfortable and large enough to support his way of sitting without limiting him in any way. The kitchen was newly stocked with various sweets and cakes, both of western and oriental varieties as the plate of strawberry daifuku cakes on the table attested. All this was of great pleasure mainly because it was all within his new domain. The other members of the team had been surprised and perhaps a little incredulous at the size of their new specially commissioned building, but the fact that their business could now be continued with guaranteed security and no disgruntled hotel managers wailing at them warmed them to it rather quickly.

But that was not all with the weeks events that had him pleased. Despite what Watari and perhaps the more attentive members of the task force may have thought, L did not and was never in the process of going mad. Yes, he had briefly considered the possibility when he came to accept and expect his invisible friend's continuous warnings. He was a bit old for imaginary friends after all, and the unyielding paranoia he suffered with he 'presence' was hardly counting to his favor. But the rather spectacular destruction of the hotel room in which they had been conducting their affairs lent its credit to the proof that he had been entirely sane and that something had been watching them.

Not that he made that little victory known to the team. There was no need to make his previous misgivings public to them after all, if they themselves had not suspected it already.

L smiled as he remembered the evening's events. The gentlemen in his employ had been understandably alarmed when glass and wood began to rain down on them, but none had been seriously hurt but for minor cuts and bruises. They had not felt the presence and so could not understand what had triggered the event, but even they found some suspicion in the timing between their lack of discovery within the ruined house and the subsequent silent explosion.

All this managed to push the case forward considerably. Especially considering that Light Yagami went missing that same evening. Soichiro refused to believe that his son was Kira or had anything to do with the monster, but even he could not deny that all this was too coincidental to be overlooked. And that all led to this moment, when finally L would finally be able to actively pursue his suspect with full support. The detectives under his command could not question his decision this time, for they themselves would be aware of the circumstances that has led to this.

Soichiro had informed L discreetly that he was bringing his son in, and that the boy came willingly. L looked forward to interrogating the boy, for to his mind Light and Kira were undeniably connected. To finally be able to openly interrogate his main suspect; backed by the boy's sudden disappearance. L felt that their progress was slowly but substantially backing Kira into a corner and that was altogether sweeter than the cakes he indulged in.

-------------------

A/N: You know, I had finally admitted to myself that I had lost interest in Death Note and writing. Despite feeling absolutely terrible, I thought I would let my stories die. However the occasional review that still came in was so lovely and it made me feel so terrible for abandoning my stories! I have recently begun roleplaying on forums again and has rekindled some of my writing passion. Thus I have sat down and read through what I had written and I see a chance that I may actually be interested enough in once more continuing what I started. Those who are even now reading this, I thank you for sticking by and hopefully with your eager support I can finish this story and my others as I had promised!

Pinkfeline aka Vagafur