A/N: I apologize if I haven't replied to your reviews... That's simply my bad memory acting up! You all know I love and cherish every single one of you for leaving me a comment, and every comment is important to me. You're helping me get better.
Oh, and oops. I suddenly realized that since Light's father is still alive, the title "Lord Yagami" probably belongs to him exclusively... and Light would be Mr Yagami or something like that. (I suppose.) I blame the lack of titles and such in my first language. XD Please forgive me. Since I've already fallen this far, I think I'm going to stick to having people call Light Lord Yagami, if you don't mind too much. I seem to generally abuse and misuse titles and forms of address rather shamelessly...
Oh my gosh, what is this? A long chapter? A long chapter with a PLOT?
Chapter 4
Divine
"You will encounter a great danger. There will be a fire... but it seems it will leave you unscathed. Hm... there will be a funeral soon... but I'm afraid you will experience more loss in near future."
Sayu Yagami stared at the small, pale hand holding hers, transfixed by the emotionless voice of the fortune-teller. She had been hurrying towards the Takada Manor when this street kid had stopped her from his shadowy alcove merely by calling her name – how had he known that? - and asking if she would like to have her fortune told.
"I truly hope you don't actually believe him," a familiar voice droned suddenly from behind her.
Sayu spun around, accidentally yanking her hand free, and threw her arms around the lithe form of Earl Lawliet. "L! I never got the chance to say hi to you yesterday." The raven-haired man stiffened in her embrace, but apparently he managed to remind himself that this was the little sister of his best friend, because he seemed to relax slightly.
"And you!" Sayu turned to smile at the red-headed boy standing behind the earl; it was a bright smile, but a little forced, a little tired, as if the girl was doing her best to remain positive and cheery even after the death of someone she had known very well. "You must be Matthew. Light told me you watched over me when I fainted. Thank you for that."
Matt muttered something; L stopped following their conversation when he felt a tiny hand tugging at his jacket. He turned and was met with a pair of eyes that reminded him strangely of his own, wide and seemingly empty as they were. He had once been told that his eyes were like the black, black sky at night, sprinkled with distant stars, endless and far beyond human understanding. This boy's eyes seemed to reflect the gray sky above them as well, but the endless space behind them was shielded from the world There was a shining in them, like the sunlight hiding just behind the veil of clouds, and L found himself wondering briefly what brightness this boy might show should that veil ever be drawn aside.
"Would you like to know your future, sir?" the boy asked, his lips curling into a tiny smile, as if he had known exactly how taken aback the young nobleman had been by his eyes.
L blinked slowly. "Only if it's brighter than my past," he agreed after a moment, more to humor the boy than out of any real interest, holding out the hand that was not holding a cane; the street child's – for a child he still was in his opinion, roughly Matt's age – small, cold fingers took a delicate hold of it.
The boy was silent for a while, an odd smile spreading onto his lips. "Brighter indeed," he replied finally, looking up, straight into the earl's eyes. "You already know there will be more grief – more victims. There is a shadow behind you... but its movements don't match yours. I can hear... bells. Church bells."
L felt his stomach twist unexpectedly at that. The bells... How had the boy known to say that?
"And there is an angel..." The slightest frown formed on the fortune-teller's pale face. "A strange, one-eyed angel that can't fly..." He shook his head, as if slightly confused by what he had seen, and seemed to regain his composure. "But at all times, there is a strong, bright figure standing by your side."
"Light," L heard himself whisper, and the fortune-teller smirked.
"Oh, so you are allowed to believe him and I am not?" Sayu's teasing voice drifted into his mind.
"Of course I do not believe him," the earl replied, snapping out of his reverie. "I do not believe in supernatural. And you, young man," he continued, turning to the young fortune-teller, "if you intend to live on this, maybe you should start telling people what they want or expect to hear. No one wants to pay for hearing bad news."
The boy smiled serenely. "I could have told the lady about the mysterious, tall dark man who has recently re-entered her life, which is what most young ladies want to hear, but..." He shrugged, wrapping his far too big coat tighter around his thin body. "It would seem to me that anything romantic developing between you two is extremely unlikely, so I decided to leave that out."
The mere thought made Sayu giggle in an irritatingly knowing way; Matt snorted behind his hand, and even L felt a small, quirky smile tugging at his lips. "Fine, you have a point there," he admitted, paying to the boy and turning to extend his arm to the young lady. "I presume you were on your way to the Takada Manor, so shall we continue together?"
Sayu agreed, taking his arm and allowing him to walk her the rest of the way. Matt turned to follow them, but was stopped by a gentle touch on his arm. Starting in surprise, he glanced at the boy over his shoulder.
The fortune-teller was looking at him with a strange, unreadable expression, holding onto his arm for a short moment. Then the boy blinked his eyes slowly before retreating back to his position huddled against the wall of the alcove, carefully cocooned into his coat. "You will be in great danger soon," he said quietly. "Stay close to that man."
Oddly disturbed by the seemingly emotionless declaration, Matt tried to wave it off with a nonchalant shrug. "I planned on doing that anyway," he replied before turning again and dashing after L and Sayu, who had stopped to wait for him. He could have sworn he could feel those strange eyes on the back of his neck, but when he looked back, the boy was already talking to someone else.
The Takada house looked quiet on the outside; the guests had been allowed to go home after being questioned by the police. Five policemen, the members of Takada family, and a couple of people willing to help were now the only ones present. Misa Amane had been moved from the corridor, but the crime scene was yet to be cleaned; the police wanted to inspect it carefully before any evidence could be cleared away.
"Good morning, Lord Lawliet," Aizawa greeted them in the hall, where he had been talking with a very tired-looking Lord Takada. "We were expecting you. Officer Lester is at the crime scene with Lord Yagami; they requested that you join them once you arrive." He turned to look at Sayu and Matt, looking confused. "And how can I help you?"
"My brother said the police would want to question me about yesterday," Sayu replied; her voice cracked at the end of the sentence, but she held her head high, with her lips pressed together in a tight line. "I fainted so they couldn't do it last night."
"The same goes for me," Matt said, adding hastily, "Excluding the fainting, though."
Aizawa nodded in understanding and excused himself to Lord Takada and L to take the two teenagers to the lord's office where they could be interrogated. Lord Takada exhaled deeply, shaking his head with a sad look on his wrinkled face; he seemed to have aged ten years in one night.
"What a shame," he said tiredly. "To think that poor Miss Misa had to meet such a terrible end... and under my roof of all places. I would very much like to think that that, too, was a part of God's plan... but, well, young Lawliet, when you grow old you find it harder to believe in fate."
"I try not to believe in fate," L replied in monotone. "For someone who has dedicated his life to stop murderers and other criminals, fate can be quite depressing." The elderly man nodded gravely, indicating that he knew exactly what he meant. "How is your daughter handling this? Miss Kiyomi was a very good friends with Miss Misa, wasn't she?"
"The best," the man sighed. "She's not doing well, I'm afraid. Hasn't shed a tear after the initial shock of the news wore off, or spoken a word. She just lies in her bed, refusing both food and company. I can only hope she'll recover before it gets serious." Another sigh was released. "Ah, well, I suppose you'll be wanting to join young Yagami. Please, make yourself at home – as much as you can in this horrible situation. If you need anything, feel free to ask."
The nobleman excused himself to go to work, leaving L to find his way to the crime scene himself. Having memorized the house during his short stay the night before, it didn't take long before he could hear Light and Lester's voices from behind the next door.
"Good morning, gentlemen," he greeted them as he entered the corridor. Lester nodded curtly, Light gave him a quick smile that faltered as soon as it appeared. L could understand why; it didn't feel appropriate to smile here, where their old friend had met a horrible end just the night before. "Has anything new occurred?"
Lester nodded with a grave expression on his face. "It seems that we have received a message from the murderer," he explained. "Miss Misa's body was taken to the chapel of the Takada Manor last night, while the police were interrogating the guests. Two men were guarding her all the time - men I truly trust, and I can count people that fall into that category with one hand – but despite their guarding, when Dr Mikami removed the blanket from her corpse this morning, there was a note struck through the arrow. The letters had been cut out of newspapers; we have been trying to get fingerprints but it seems the bastard used gloves."
L tilted his head slightly to the side. Now this was getting interesting... "What was the message?"
"The three first lines of the second stanza of Who Killed Cock Robin. 'Who saw him die?'" Light recited. "'I, said the Fly, with my little eye...'"
"... 'I saw him die'," L finished, frowning. "Since the last line of the first stanza was painted on the wall next to Miss Misa, it would seem logical that the murderer intends to kill someone else and leave the last line of the second stanza in close proximity of the second victim. This would appear to be a hint, so maybe we are offered a chance to save the Fly..."
"But that doesn't make sense," Light disagreed. "As far as I know, no one received a warning about Misa's death." Lester nodded to confirm this; if there had been a warning, it had never found its way to their hands. "And in the first stanza, the Robin is declared dead, but in the second, it's merely stated that the Fly witnessed his death. Killing Rem would not follow the script."
"Rem?" Lester blinked.
"Obviously, she is the Fly who saw the Robin die," L evaluated, not taking his eyes off Light. "I see your point, Light, but no one else dies in the song, so why would a murderer keep providing us with parts of the rhyme if not to kill off the other characters of the poem as well? If someone else were to die later in the song, we could expect the killer to follow the original plot, but since the only victim of the story is already dead, it seems to me that the murderer is going to do away with the rest of the cast as well."
"That's true," Light admitted. "In any case, we must keep an eye on Rem at all times."
"Ten eyes, preferably, and from every possible angle," L murmured. "Has she said anything?"
Lester shrugged his broad shoulders. "Not much, and nothing of actual use. She woke up early this morning. Looked around with those eerie yellow eyes of hers, paid special attention to our police uniforms, and then glanced at the bandages around her torso. Smart woman, really; didn't start screaming or wailing. Didn't even ask what happened, or if Miss Misa was alive. She had seen the arrow hit her, she knew why the police were here, and the sight of her own wound convinced her that it hadn't been merely a nightmare."
"How did she react?"
The ashy-blond man shook his head, his cold blue eyes betraying some reluctant sympathy. "Mentally speaking, she died that moment. She's hardly responding to anything, and just keeps looking at the ceiling with this empty look in her eyes. It's still possible that she is responsible for Lady Amane's death and is now contemplating on what she has done, but in that case we are dealing with two potential murderers, or a murderer and a jester, because she can't have left the message on the corpse last night."
L noticed that Light flinched slightly at the word 'the corpse'. This was their childhood friend they were talking about, after all, so maybe that was understandable.
"Did the interrogation offer us any insight?" he asked to change the subject.
Lester seemed to pick on his thoughts. "A little," he said, apparently quite happy to be able to tell there had been some development. "Though it doesn't narrow our suspicions; on the contrary, actually. Based on the interviews with every guest, the murderer was an outsider. We talked to everyone that had been invited, and they had an alibi, or were last seen so far from the crime scene that it would be physically impossible to get there and back again quickly enough to avoid detection. Yes, we tested the theory by running the distances ourselves," he added at L's skeptical look. "Several times. The murderer cannot possibly be anyone of the guests... except for the four we haven't heard, yet."
L nodded gravely. "Light, his sister, my brother and myself, I presume. I assure you that all of us have been seen at the moment of the murder. Our siblings are being interrogated as we speak, and you can ask the other guests to confirm our alibis."
The policeman looked rather uncomfortable. "I do not doubt that, but I'm sure you understand that I have to do my job. You two with your intelligence are of extreme help, but you were in this house when Lady Amane was killed, and I'm obliged to investigate you as well."
Light and L exchanged blank looks, their eyes betraying their annoyance; they knew, however, better than to argue.
"Why don't we go and see if our witness feels any better, then," L suggested mildly, if only to escape this corridor for a while. Light agreed eagerly; they excused themselves to the policeman and left, Light leading the way.
Mentally speaking, she died that moment.
Lester's words echoed in L's head when Light opened the door to the room Rem had been taken to and let him in. The two policemen turned to them the moment they heard a sound from the door, their hands going to their swords and pistols.
"It's me," Light raised his hands, as if to show that they were empty. "I brought Lord Lawliet to see the witness." The men relaxed slightly and gave them a curt nod, but did not take their eyes off them when they moved closer to the bed, L noted approvingly.
The room was big and quite luxurious; apparently it was the one Misa Amane had stayed in whenever she had been visiting her friend. Soft Indian carpets covered the marble floor; the white walls seemed to light the room even though the sky behind the high windows was gray with clouds. An enormous painting of an angel, surrounded by bright light, and Virgin Mary kneeling before him, was hanging on the wall next to the bed; this glorious environment served only to make the occupant of the bed seem more miserable and abandoned.
Rem was sitting on the bed, slumped forward and staring at her hands resting in her lap, unmoving, unspeaking, apparently uncaring of the pain this position caused to her injured ribs. In her fingers she was holding a simple black rosary, complete with a blank silver cross gleaming on her palm.
"Miss Rem?" L tried to get her attention, bending forward to take a closer look at her face.
The woman reacted by turning her head to face him – very slowly, but at least it was a response, which was a good sign.
Her dry, bloodless lips parted and a rough, rasping whisper stumbled past them - "He is no God who murders those who are faithful to him," she breathed, staring straight at L with her yellow eyes, pupils dilated and unfocused.
The young earl blinked but did not recoil from the madness evident on her face. "What do you mean?" he asked quietly, aware of the stunned looks of Light and the two policemen on his back.
He regretted not stepping back when the servant's hands suddenly grasped his collar and jerked him forward so harshly that he almost stumbled onto the bed. The tight grip was cutting his oxygen to minimum, and the cross of the rosary she had still wedged between her fingers was pressed painfully against his throat.
"Even if," Rem gasped, tears gathering in her mad, feverish eyes, "even if she was so full of sin that all the angels turned their faces from her, you took her under your wing, you who are no God, you, angel of betrayal – only to slay her?" Her hands pulled him closer, gripping tighter, until the young earl's sight was beginning to blur dangerously, but she seemed to look at someone just behind L's head rather than L himself.
"I beg of you, God," she wailed with a voice so full of desperation that it brought pity even into L's well-protected heart, "let all her sins be mine, and her soul be cleansed..."
Dark spots were swimming across his blurred vision when L suddenly felt cool hands struggle the feverishly warm ones from his collar, turn him around and touch his face, his neck, his collarbones – Light.
"You are no God," he heard Rem whisper bitterly, quietly, as she withdrew back into her shell, and then Light was wrapping his arms around his shivering shoulders and excusing them to the guards. He was dimly aware of being walked out of the room, of the door closing behind them, of entering another room, but it was only when he felt the cushions of a couch under him and Light's cool hands returning to their task of examining his neck for injuries that the real world seemed to slowly return to him.
"I'm fine, Light," he muttered as his sight began to return to normal, trying to push the hands away.
"Let me make sure," the younger man replied irritably, slapping his protesting hands away and tilting his head back to inspect the damage. L's head fell against the cushions and, too drained to fight back, he let it rest there, his mind still on the exchange that had just taken place.
"Do you think I said something that might have triggered her?" he asked after a while.
Light shook his head. "Not that I noticed. You said her name, and asked what she meant, and that's all you said and did. I don't think that was the trigger. I believe it was us entering the room and breaking the silence that made her spill her thoughts to us." He leaned forward to plant a kiss on the raven-haired man's exposed throat and then straightened, smiling a little. "Luckily it looks like she didn't harm you, though I was a little worried for a moment there. She had such a tight grip, I had to literally fight to make her let you go..."
L nodded at his theory, throwing the man a small frown for the sudden kiss, and sat up a little straighter, feeling more like himself. "Yes... I don't think she meant to harm me or even attack me. She seems to be way too far gone for such a reasonable thought – I don't think she even realized she was doing it..."
Light sighed. "It's horrible to see her like this. She's been around for as long as I can remember, like Misa's guardian angel..."
L was quiet. He did not feel like saying it, but he had a feeling that whether the killer returned or not – and he was fairly certain he would – Rem would not live for too many days. Badly wounded, delirious and having lost her reason to live, she would probably perish soon either because of a high fever or simply because of not eating.
"I... would like to see Miss Misa now, if you don't mind showing me to the chapel" he said after a while, not meeting Light's eyes. "Yesterday I reacted like a detective – I would still like to say my goodbyes."
Matt was exhausted. The interrogation had been such an oppressive situation that it had snuffed out whatever strength he had had, and that hadn't been much to begin with. Moving into a new town, the strain of keeping up the pretense of his fake identity, the commotion and danger the night before, and a poorly slept night had left him a little drained and now that the police interview was over he was sorely missing his new, soft bed.
Being a Lawliet had its sides.
"Hi, Matt," the voice of Lord Yagami drifted into his consciousness. He looked up and blinked at the smiling young man. "You look a little tired. Are you feeling alright?"
"Uh – yes, Lord Yagami," he replied quickly, regaining his senses suddenly. He had apparently wandered around the house aimlessly, and as he looked around he had to admit that he had no idea how to get back.
"Please, call me Light," the young lord said, offering another small smile. "L and I are like brothers, so you're almost a family member now."
Matt had a feeling that Light was looking at him very strangely, but as soon as he dared to look straight back at the man the look – or the ghost of it – was gone.
"I take it that you have already been interrogated," Light continued. "I just took L to bid his farewell to Miss Misa – she was a childhood friend of ours. Would you like to sit and wait with me until he returns from the chapel and my sister from her own hearing? I hear you came by foot, but we could go back together in my carriage."
Meekly, almost hesitantly, Matt nodded and followed his brother's best friend to the delicate set of a small table – hardly larger than a flower stand – and two chairs at the end of the corridor, next to a window that showed a beautiful view of the large fake pond in the Takadas' garden. Heavy, royal blue curtains framed the alcove and partly hid them from view; the scent of the hyacinths in the vase was overwhelming.
"You look tired," Light repeated his earlier words, looking at him with a worried look on his face, half hidden by the flowers between them. "Didn't you sleep last night?"
"No, I slept very well at first," Matt replied readily and then almost gasped as he realized where he had fallen asleep. "Oh – I'm so sorry, I fell asleep when we were still visiting you – you must think I can't behave at all, but you see, I lived in the streets before my brother found me, so you mustn't blame it on him – I'm really very sorry -"
"Matt, Matt – it's fine, calm down." Was he seeing things or did the man look rather satisfied when he said he had slept well in the beginning? The look was gone, once again, when he blinked; maybe the flowers and their heavy scent that was making his dreamy mind buzz was playing tricks on him... "Why didn't you sleep properly later, though? Did something wake you up?"
"Nah, it's more like... just dreams. Weird dreams, that's all." Really weird. "They were about L, but he was... different. Like a completely different person."
"Ah." Suddenly, Light's face darkened – though at the same time, he looked a little sad. "Welcome to the mysterious castle of the Lawliets, where reality has sometimes very little to do with realism. You have just been introduced to their current ghost from the past – Beyond Birthday, L's cousin. They really did look alike; they could even fool me, at times."
Alarmed, Matt tried to shake the sleepiness off his shoulders. What was this? How could Light know who it was after such a short description? And it had been a dream! A dream was something his own subconscious had made up, right?
Apparently Light could see the questions in his eyes, for he glanced around the heavy velvet curtain to make sure they were alone, and leaned a little closer to continue.
"B, as he wanted to be called," he explained in a low voice, "died almost ten years ago in a riding accident; the pony threw him off her back, and he landed at an awkward angle. Since then he has been haunting the Lawliet Castle – almost everyone who stays the night there encounters him in his dreams at least once, and sometimes other things happen – things disappearing and moving on their own, doors closing and opening by themselves. I know it's not logical or strictly speaking even possible, but I've seen him in my dreams, too. I generally trust only what I can touch, but there is something undeniably supernatural going on there."
"It's only L who doesn't see him, and these mysterious things rarely happen when he's around. I'm not even sure if L believes any of our stories. And it's not like anything bad has happened; it seems to me that he's just trying to scare us for the heck of it. He was just the type of person who would... and he was extremely fond of L, almost like a twin brother might have been, so my theory is that he just can't go on to the next world for as long as L is still alive, so he's killing time waiting for him."
Matt gaped at the auburn-haired man. Was he serious? Or did he think he would be freaked out by a simple ghost story?
"I'm not making this up," Light assured him after seeing his expression. "I know it sounds unbelievable, but that's how it is. It's a little spooky but not that bad when you get used to it. Or at least that's how it was seven years ago, when I last spent time at the Castle..."
Frowning slightly but half-believing against his will, Matt opened his mouth to ask more, when for the second time within two days an ear-splitting shriek cut his words short.
Misa Amane had been beautiful in life, and now she was beautiful in death. Her lips were just as bloodless and blue as they had once been red and full; she looked peaceful, but very cold, very dead.
Biting his lip, L lifted the blanket that had covered her a little more; the arrow was still stuck through her chest to avoid losing any evidence, but the piece of paper that had apparently been there had been taken off. The blood on her dress was now nothing more but dried, darker red stains on the velvet.
Disgustingly artistic.
"Are you L? Is your dad really evil? My dad says he's a devil, but I'm not supposed to know that. My dad says to be nice to you because otherwise your dad will get mad, but Dad also said I can't be too nice to you because he doesn't want me to marry you. That's just stupid, like I would want to marry my friend! I'm not scared of your dad."
"Miss Misa," he whispered, leaning down as if to avoid anyone overhearing them, "it scares me that you died the night I returned. It makes me fear it was my fault, somehow..."
"Hey, want to see my new swing? Dad had it set up just today, it's in the garden – listen, you can try it first if you want! Dad always says it's ladies first but my Mom told me there's nothing more important in the world than friends and that you should be nice to your friends, because power and wealth can be fleeting but friends are not. I'm not sure what it means, though. But since you're my friend, you can try it first even though you're not a lady. You're kinda pretty anyway."
L had been six when he had moved to the Lawliet Castle from the countryside and met Misa for the first time. He couldn't remember saying a word to her that day, but somehow, when they had been leaving, the girl had kissed his cheek and announced that now they were friends forever.
Misa had been one of those people who didn't need the other person to be cooperative to be friends forever; she had enough love and devotion for two.
"I never even said thank you," L said after a while, slowly and quietly; the hushed whisper seemed to echo in the empty chapel. "I know you first talked to me only because your father had ordered you to, but you forgot about that soon, didn't you? By the end of that day, you were convinced it had been your own idea. You never realized how hard it can be to love so unconditionally... You just loved everyone and everything, whether they... whether I... deserved it or not."
The silvery cross, decorated with black pearls, resting on her joined hands, the string entangled with her white fingers, reminded him that this was a chapel, and he was talking to a recently deceased person. Misa had been a devoted church-goer, he remembered...
So, more for her sake than his own, L laid his hand on the two small and cold ones, covering the cross with it, and prayed, for the first time since leaving London seven years ago.
"Lord," he said quietly, trying hard to not see anything but the dead girl's face and still feeling the heavy gazes of the paintings, the stained glass and the crucified statue behind the altar on his back; feeling as though he could look over his shoulder and see the pews filled with people from his past, all staring at him with accusing eyes, "if you are there, take her soul under your care. Be kind to her, like she was kind to us. Even if she was killed by Kira, judge her by her kind heart and not by whatever sin Kira saw in her."
Was it his imagination or was the chapel suddenly filled with shadows? Was the crucifix towering dangerously over him, threatening rather than redeeming? His fingers were so cold, so cold, like the coldness of the skin under them was slowly seeping into them – were the freezing claws of Death somehow reaching for him through Misa's fingers?
"Lord," he whispered, more frantically now, "why do people always end up dying when I'm around? How is that possible? Is it my fault? Am I doing something to cause it? Please tell me... I have people I care about, now – I always did, and it took her death before I realized it – I don't want to run away anymore... but how can I face my past, my fate, my responsibilities without placing anyone in danger?"
Church bells were ringing in his ears – why, why were they ringing? No, they were not supposed to ring yet – not before the lid of the white and golden coffin closed over Misa's angelic face – was it raining outside? He could hear the rain beating against the painted glass, he could smell the wet soil already – it would rain like that on her funeral day, like it had rained on Beyond's, like it would rain on his own –
– Or was it his funeral now?
"My lord?"
With a sharp intake of breath, L lifted his hand from Misa's and whirled around while the softly asked question was still echoing through the chapel. Doctor Mikami was standing there in the middle of the aisle, looking at him with worry and confusion in his steely black eyes.
"Is everything quite alright?" the man asked.
Trying to will his frantically beating heart to calm down – God, Mikami could probably hear it in the silence of the chapel – L forced a small nod. "Quite. Are you here to inspect her?"
His fingers were tingling as warmth returned to them and blood begun to circulate in his veins again. He couldn't bear to glance at Misa again, but a cold fear still gripped his heart. Had that been his overactive imagination? The hereditary madness his parents and his cousin had suffered from acting up? Or had it been the girl's betrayed soul, seeking for revenge?
He had barely even gotten to say hello to her before she had been murdered...
"Ah... no. I already did that," Mikami was saying. He looked hesitant for a moment, but then started walking briskly towards him. His footsteps echoed in the room. "I was merely passing by and wondered when I heard a voice... but I presume that was your grace bidding her farewell."
"And praying for her soul," L added, a little defensively, because he thought it was appropriate. He hoped to any deity willing to listen that the man hadn't heard the latter part of his prayer.
Mikami stopped right before him, eyed him expressionlessly for a moment, and then humbly bowed his head in respect. "Indeed, my lord," he agreed in a low voice, before brushing past him and leaning over to pull the white blanket over the corpse again.
What was that supposed to mean?
L started to turn to ask, started to flinch at the glimpse of Misa's cold face he got as he turned, started to speak – and stopped at the shrill, distant cry.
It was the kind of cry that dripped blood, and L and Mikami were out of the chapel and running towards the sound almost before the blanket had touched Misa's face. The shriek had come from Misa's room – Rem's room – of course it had – and, as L had known at the initial sound, they came in too late.
His eyes glided across the two fallen guards – dead or alive, he had no idea – across Light standing right next to the door, holding Matt so the boy's face was buried in his shoulder to keep him from seeing what was on the other side of the room, across the traces of struggle littering the floor, and settled on the painting on the wall, the painting of a kneeling Virgin Mary and an angel.
It had been repainted... with Rem.
The woman's feet, dripping blood, were hanging slightly above the floor; she was pinned to the wall by a sword struck through her chest, right where the angel in the original painting had been; the painted wings, now colored red, still showed grotesquely behind her back. There was a pool of blood where her right eye had been, and the face of Virgin Mary was concealed by a message scribbled in red: I saw her die.
With her little eye – just one eye, that was why the right one had been plucked out – the Fly had seen the Robin die.
'A strange one-eyed angel that can't fly...'
Without thinking, L turned around and ran. He had to find that fortuneteller.
1) Chapter count: 4. Corpse count: 2. Oh dear.
2) I had a hard time trying to sneak a little bit of LightxL into this chapter, until Light got clever and snogged his sweetheart's recently abused throat under the pretense of checking for injuries. Light's... well trained at feeling for serious internal bleeding with his lips?
3) Mello and a few others will be making an appearance in the next chapter~ And you probably guessed already that the fortuneteller was Near...
4) "Ten eyes, preferably, and from every possible angle." ← That's 19th century L longing for his 21st century security cameras. :D
Please review!