Fan-boys, Cake Junkies, and Other Problems
Prompt by Lulzlullylulz: "I would like to see a continuation of chapter 10 where Harry decides to continue his vacation in Japan, weirdos and regret aside, and to his utmost misfortune meets Misa, Light, L and Matsuda. Bonus if upon his return to England, he comes across L's heirs."
Premise: "In which Harry marvels at the fact that the weird ones ALWAYS find him. Always..."
Author's Note (Please Read): Thanks so much for the continued support and prompts. However, so that I don't get burned out writing these (as they are supposed to be a cure for burn out, not the cause of it), I kindly request new prompts from now on. I might eventually be open to doing continuations for other prompts, but am feeling very burned out on Harry-as-Raito, so will not be continuing that one any further. Feel free to continue that premise on your own, if you'd like. All I ask is that you send me a link, so I can read it.
Disclaimer: Don't own a damn thing from these properties. If I did, I could sell my drama queen of a car, get a new one, and probably afford rent closer to San Diego, on top of that. UNBETA'd.
…
It took him three hours, some impressive gymnastics his back didn't thank him for, and one too many close encounters with strangers before he finally managed to dodge Mikami. Of course, that left Harry riding the orange line to who-the-fuck-knows-where during commute hours.
Needless to say, he had a better appreciation for the plight of canned sardines, and was not looking forward to repeating the experience, ever again. Even if he had to apparate half-blind, or pay out the nose for a taxi, he was not taking another train.
He emerged...somewhere. All he could tell is that it was central-ish, and had a crowd of squealing onlookers babbling rapid-fire, gesturing at some local actress as she pretended to swoon for the camera. Harry snorted, giving the girls a wide arc as he crossed the street. Of course, since the Potter Luck hadn't screwed him over enough today, he managed all but two steps before a tall, rather plain looking man with puppy eyes plowed into him, spilling coffee all down his front.
"Gomen, gomen!"
"Er...it's fine, really." Harry waved him off, swatting at the man's hands as he got a little too personal with his handful of napkins for his comfort.
"Oh, er...sorry." The man's voice rang with an earnestness that made him think of Neville.
"It's fine, just...where can I get cleaned up?"
"Uh...OH! Let me just..." He fumbled with his phone, his tongue poking out the corner of his mouth as he dialed.
Harry shifted, wincing as the coffee continued to drip down the inside of his trousers. "Hey, er...Ryuzaki? I kind of spilled coffee over—uh huh. No, I wanted to use the car to—uh huh. But—oh, OK."
The brunette blinked, the dial tone ringing loudly in the silence. "If you don't mind waiting, I can get us a ride to where you're staying. I just...I'm her manager," he gestured to the swooning diva, "and need to wait til break to let her know I'm leaving."
He bit back a sigh. "Really, it's fine..."
"No, no! It'll be just a minute, I promise!" Staring into those earnest eyes was like looking into the eyes of a baby unicorn. No matter how uncomfortable he was, turning this man down when he was looking at him like that would be like kicking a unicorn colt...wrong on too many levels to count.
…
Five minutes and a squidgy pair of socks later, the blonde bounced to their side, all smiles and sunshine. Harry ignored the sparkles, if only because he'd seen one too many goddamn weird things today to want to have to think about why a seemingly non-magical human being was surrounded by a halo of twinkles.
"Misa-Misa, this is my friend...er?"
He bit back a snort. "Harry. Nice to meet you."
Misa-Misa (and who names their daughter that, honestly) beamed at him, practically bouncing in place. "Nice to meet you! Are you one of Misa-Misa's fans? I'm super flattered, but already in love with My Raito, and cannot be seen with another man."
…
Harry didn't know what to say to that. He bit back a laugh, but barely. Had Luna or Hermione or even Ginny said that, he could have been certain it was a joke. With this girl, he kind of doubted it, so instead ignored her, and turned back to the fidgeting bloke.
"So, about that ride?"
"OH, sorry!" He turned to the blonde, who was giving him an odd look, "Misa-Misa, I need to leave real quick to take Harry back to his hotel, but I'll be back before you're done, alright?"
"Whatever, Matsu~! Bring me back some more coffee!"
"S-Sure, Misa-Misa! Be back soon!" The man stumbled as he made his way back to his side, rubbing the back of his head sheepishly.
Harry winced. He wasn't sure how this seemingly decent guy got stuck with that nightmare, but he had his sincerest sympathies.
. . .
After the longest, hottest shower he had had in recent memory, Harry had fallen into bed face-first. He debated, long and hard, whether to grab his shite and grab the nearest port-key home. In the end, exhaustion won out.
. . .
"Harry-kun, was it?"
He wasn't sure what to make of the man who...crouched in the seat across from him, stealing a pastry off his plate even as he delicately set about making the most cloying cuppa in the history of mass-produced tea.
"I'm sorry, but who are you?"
"You may call be Ryuzaki."
"Alright, Ryuzaki. Was there something you wanted?"
The man blinked at him, his brow furrowing as his wide eyes burned a hole in his forehead. Great, another bloke with a straring problem. After a moment, he finally spoke, but without bothering to answer his goddamn question. "I believe you met my...friend...Matsu last evening."
"Yes, and?"
"You told him the most interesting story about a Mikami."
"Wait, how—"
"I have my resources. Now answer the question."
He felt his patient fraying. "First of all, you didn't ask me anything yet. Secondly, you've failed to answer my question—what do you want?"
"I want to know if this was the man you spoke to." Ryuzaki slid a grainy photo of the man from the train across the table toward him. Harry wasn't sure what to feel about the fact that this frankly bizarre man having CCTV photos of random people on hand, but was sure he didn't want to know, as he wasn't here to get involved in any of this shit.
"Yes. Why, does it matter?"
"It might very well," he stared some more, his eyes never straying an inch, even as he sipped at his tea-like sludge, even as he ate the pilfered pastry. "Very well, let us be off."
Harry pushed back in his seat. "Us? There's no us. You are just some strange man who stole my breakfast."
"There will be plenty of pastries where we're going."
"I'm not going any—" There was a a sharp blow at the back of his head, and then nothing.
. . .
Waking up after being knocked out was never pleasant, less so when you awoke to a stranger all but crouching over you, his pale face uncomfortably close. "You...knocked me out?"
"It was necessary—"
"The hell! You knocked me out!"
The glare was surprisingly fierce coming from such a spindly fucker. "Don't interrupt me." Harry scoffed, his scorn turning to shock when the man pinched him...PINCHED HIM...in the arm. "As I was saying, it was necessary that we continue our conversation in absolute privacy, so I—"
"So you kidnapped me, you utter shite." Harry caught the thin fingers before they could pinch him again. "Are you a child? Stop pinching me."
"Stop interrupting me."
"Then stop giving me reason to! You illegally kidnapped me because you wanted to talk? Honestly."
"Kidnapping, Ryuzaki? Isn't that a bit much? You could have just explained why you needed to know about Mikami."
Harry glanced at the young man who'd interrupted them—tall, brunette, with honest-to-goodness doe eyes. "Raito-kun needs to be quiet, before he give too much away."
"Ryuzaki-san needs to stop being ridiculous, before he lands us in the middle of a lawsuit."
He felt his mouth pull into a smirk. "He has a point, you know. It would be within my rights. I'm sure Japan doesn't want an international incident on their hands."
Ryuzaki frowned for a long minute, before finally letting him sit up. Harry didn't even bother to look around. He didn't care about the décor, the color of the walls, or the view from the window. All he wanted was to be on his way. He stretched, eyeing the pouting man as he glared unhappily at a plate of cake. He was like a toddler in the middle of a silent strop.
"Look...I don't know this Mikami. I'd never met him before. He had been staring at my hair and ranting about Kira, and I sort of ended up telling him how stupid I thought it was that he was worshiping a mass-murderer. He flipped out, starting babbling about god, and end up following me around til I managed to ditch him. That's all I can tell you about him."
"Hm." The weird man was still frowning, but looked more thoughtful, now. "Very well. You are free to go."
Harry rolled his eyes, giving the kid a wave as he left the room. He almost tripped when he finally noticed the pair of cuffs and the long chain, but didn't stop, didn't turn around, didn't ask. It wasn't his business. Not. At. All.
Honestly, he just wanted to be home already. He missed his local offy and their cheap dunhill's. He felt in desperate need for some nicotine.
. . .
15 hours of travel, jet lag, and a newly-purchased pack of cigarettes later, Harry was breathing deep, all put dancing in joy to be home.
"Hey..?"
A spindly red-head in goggles smiled at him flatly, gesturing with his own cigarette. "Can I get a light?"
Harry blinked, but shrugged. Moral Crusader Harry could wait to rear his head another day. He wasn't going to bother today. "Sure, kid."
The red-head's blonde shadow gnawed on a Cadbury's, and Harry's stomach growled loudly. He could really go for a curry.
"Thanks."
"Cheers."
Another stomach grumble, and he was off. There was a Chicken Tikka calling his name, and he'd be rude not to answer.