A/N: ugh. so in my rash of updating, it seems i've hit a rough spot. not trying to make excuses, but i have hit a bit of writer's block, having neglected some of my other stories in favor of updating this and my ff7 story. But even so, it seems that the last chapter was a bit blah. and i apologize, because after re-reading it a couple of times, i am very unhappy with it. but in the spirit of laziness, i think i'm going to let it be. so sorry everyone for having a shit chapter, i hope that the next couple are an improvement. xp
The alarm went off at six sharp, jolting Hitomi awake. She got up and dressed, feeling the entire time as if she were walking through a dream, that nothing was real and she might wake up any second. Which she hoped she would, if memory served her correctly. But when she emerged from the bedroom, L was sitting on the couch, already awake, or perhaps never having gone to sleep. She ignored him and moved to the kitchen, drinking a glass of water before gathering her bags from the foot of her bed and putting them by the door. Finally completely ready to go, she silently sat in the chair next closest to his spot on the couch, looking out the window onto the city instead of at him.
"Raito said you were coming with me. To New York."
"I am."
"Why?"
"To investigate."
"You don't need to."
"Yes, I do." She didn't ask for any further explanation, and L noted the dark shadows under her eyes, almost rivaling her own. She was too exhausted and stricken to argue as she usually did.
"How long are you planning on staying?"
"Three days should be enough." He watched her as she shifted in her seat, finally looking at him with watery eyes.
"I don't want you to come. I don't want your protection. What good has it done so far?"
"Hitomi-"
"Just tell me why you're doing this, huh? Why are you drawing this out? Just let me leave." He hesitated, struggling with the implications of what she'd said.
"If I don't do my best for this case, then I might as well be doing nothing." A single tear managed to fight its way out, but she still stared angrily at him, wiping it away hurriedly. After a few tense seconds of this, she stood, resigning herself back to avoiding looking at him.
"Let's go then. I assume you're already packed, and Watari is waiting downstairs with a car?" She didn't wait for an answer, but gathered her things and called the elevator. There were few words exchanged on the way out, directions from L to the task force, another round of condolences. Then the girl and the detective were in the confined back seat of the car as Watari maneuvered them to the airport.
"Hitomi..." L began quietly. But when she glanced over at him, asking what he wanted with her gaze alone, he was struck silent by dèjá vu. It took him a moment to realize she hadn't done anything with her hair, leaving it to fall over her shoulders freely and her bangs to shadow her eyes further how much she really did look like Misora. And now that she'd dressed for a long flight, in blue jeans and a black t shirt, with a black leather jacket zipped up over it in the chill of the morning, that he found the source of his strange feeling. She could've passed for the other woman if he didn't know any better, and confronted by the sudden shift in his reality L found his heart pounding exceptionally hard, leaving him short of breath.
"L-san, are you okay?" She finally spoke. The sharp glint in her eyes disappeared, replaced by the the more familiar looks she had. He took a breath, forcing himself to tell her he was alright, and turned back to look out his window.
"L-san, what were you going to say?"
"What?"
"You started saying something, but you stopped."
"I... wanted to express my condolences."
"Oh. Thank you." She sighed and looked down, watching her hands as they sat folded in her lap, only speaking again as she handled the tickets and boarding on the plane. For safety, they sat separately, and she only saw him twice during the flight when she had to pass his seat to reach the bathroom. She took this time to pull out a large envelope from her purse, looking through and organizing a thick stack of papers. L couldn't tell from his vantage point a few rows back and across the aisle what they were, but it took her less than an hour to be satisfied with them and stow them away, putting on a pair of headphones and falling asleep in her seat. Resolving to ask her about them when they arrived in New York, he dozed in front of his computer for the rest of the flight, dreaming about funerals in between bouts of skimming through files.
They arrived in New York City, Watari having arranged for transport of Hitomi's car from the last airport outside the city to a parking spot at this one. She drove quietly to her apartment, not wasting a moment in unpacking her large suitcases and cleaning the dust left over in her apartment from her absence. The first night they stayed in the city, and while Hitomi spent most of the afternoon on the phone with family discussing the arrangements and when she would arrive in town, L watched her from the chair he'd frequented only weeks ago.
She looked as if she were simply going the motions now, he noted, as if she were lost in a fog and nothing that happened to her now was real. Or maybe it was too real, and she'd lost something important because of it. Either way, there was a hollow look to her, as if there was nothing but a shell that had been drained of everything except for sadness and occasional anger. He avoided questioning her like he'd intended about the papers, and when she went to bed that night she seemed to have taken them with her.
He padded softly down the hall to her door, turning the knob slowly and entering the darkened room. Hitomi seemed to be asleep, so he began to silently search through her bags for the packet, until a small sniffle froze him to the spot. Seconds seemed to stretch endlessly as he waited in the dark, until he was relieved even to be caught.
"I know you're there, L-san." The small lamp next to her bed flicked on, giving her a ghostly sheen as she sat up on her elbows. "What are you doing?"
"You had a packet on the plane. A notebook was part of it."
"Yes."
"I would like to see it."
"You will. After the funeral, when we come back here. You can take it back to Japan with you."
"I'd like to see it now," He amended his statement.
"It's my final assessment of the case. It won't be complete until we know for sure whether Kira caused my mother's death." He was surprised at how blunt she'd been when it had seemed she was barely able to think about her mother before without crying. But he glimpsed the anger in her eyes and understood soon enough.
"You're already positive that he did."
"Yes."
"How do you know?"
"I'll explain it in my report." She seemed determined, and he doubted he would be able to persuade her of any other plan of action. Besides, it didn't seem to be such a big deal to let her report go a few days. If she knew who Kira was, after all, she'd say something immediately, wouldn't she? But at the same time, this was a chance to test her, to have one last small battle of wits with her. Perhaps even to see that blush when he bested her at something... And taking advantage of one last chance wasn't wrong, at least not in his reasoning.
"You're hiding something from me again."
"I don't know what you mean."
"I think you do." She sat up more, swinging her feet to the floor.
"L-san, I don't want to play this game. Not now."
"I'm don't know what you mean." He shot her that smug look, smirking without moving a muscle, and now she stood, clearly more easily goaded than before.
"I think you do know what I mean. And I think it's just terrible that you do this to people, and I think that-" He moved closer to her, using his height to seem a bit intimidating.
"What exactly do you think, Hitomi-chan." L kept his voice as calm and emotionless as possible. That was always the key with people like her, and it worked like a charm.
"I think that it's time someone taught you some manners." she muttered, striking out with one foot and dropping him to the floor. He grunted with the impact, but stayed calm. Always calm, he reminded himself. He started to get up, but she pushed him with her foot, forcing him back onto his butt. Only this time, he grabbed her ankle as he went, pulling her down as well. She thudded to the floor, sitting facing him as he held her ankle. At first he thought she would strike out at him again, but her eyes filled with tears instead. L suddenly felt guilty, she'd never actually cried because of him before, and he let go, climbing to his normal crouched position.
There was a moment of quiet stillness, Hitomi looking up at him with those big, pleading eyes, and then he surprised himself. The detective reached his arms out, grasping her arms with neither the forceful desire he'd used in private with her nor the distant ghosting touch most people saw, and pulled her into him. He lost his balance first, falling to his knees, but hardly seemed to notice as the girl clung closer to him. Her hands reached up to him, grabbing fistfuls of his shirt, her shoulders shaking with silent sobs as she lost the composure she'd mostly kept for the last couple of days. They stayed that way until Hitomi's breaths only caught occasionally, her real crying having subsided.
Finally L stood, pulling her up with him and sitting her on the edge of the bed. She watched him with half lidded, reddened eyes as he retrieved an oversized shirt from her dresser, unmoving in her sheer exhaustion when he set it next to her. When he eventually relented, she was compliant, raising her arms so he could pull her shirt up and over her head. But by the time he'd managed to awkwardly tug the new shirt onto her, she seemed to have recovered some, standing slowly and taking off the jeans herself and slipping the bra from beneath her pajamas. At last removing her tormenting gaze from him, Hitomi pulled the covers back and climbed into bed, laying on the far side of the mattress and rolling to face away from him. L stood for a few more seconds watching her, then started to leave, if not for her soft voice stopping him.
"L-san, don't leave me alone tonight. P-please." Part of him knew he should leave, but he still found himself sliding under the covers, laying next to her and staring at the ceiling.
"Do you... want to talk?"
"No. I want to sleep."
"Why-"
"I'm tired of being awake. Tired of all of this. But I don't think I can stand to be alone." In a half-hearted attempt at a joke, L rolled toward her, mumbling,
"So anyone would have sufficed." As soon as the words were out he regretted them for how bitter they'd sounded. But Hitomi seemed not to notice, or at least not to care, scooting back into him until they were pressed together. Something about spoons, if he remembered correctly what they called it. She took his arm, draping it over her side and holding his hand tightly to her chest.
"I'm glad it's you," she mumbled, snuggling in. The girl quickly fell asleep, her breathing deep and even, and the detective decided against his better judgment to let her get away with her sentimentality just this once. With his hand captured by her, he was left with no choice but to settle in as well, watching the shadows shift on the walls until he too dropped off to sleep.