DS
Disclaimer: I don't own the Wizard of Oz!
Me: Omgooglies. Another chapter!
Chibi Misa: No way!
Chibi L: Cookies?
Chibi Raito: NOOOOOOOOOooooooooo!
Me: Yes, well, once again, thanks to all my reviewers! You guys make my day! Kudos, snickers, cookies, and CAKE for you!
Chibi L: CAKE? o.o
Chibi Raito: Holy God.
Me: -blinks at L- no cake for you.
Chibi L: What is this CAKE of which you speak?
Me: Nothing you need to know about.
Chibi L: I'm not so sure about that.
Chibi Raito: We're sure.
Chibi L: I'm going to find out what this CAKE of yours is, mark my words. Judging from the context in which it was put, this CAKE must be something sweet, no?
Chibi Misa: Lock him up.
Chibi Raito: I concur.
Chibi Misa: REEAAALLY? –sparkle-
Me: Quick! Start the fic before this conversation gets any weirder!
Chibi Misa: Read, review, and relax!
D S 5
Raito raised his eyes to the cloudless, blue expanse of sky and felt immensely large and significant.
Kira was proud of himself. He had been experimenting on the extent to which he could control these humans before they died. He was extremely satisfied with his results.
He breathed in a lungful of crisp, clear air and sighed approvingly. There, in the sky, conceived before the pilot of the acrobatic biplane crashed, was Raito's greatest creation. His pride and joy.
The pilot had a reputation for his superb flying ability and a license to show it. He was also a convicted criminal. Was a convicted criminal, and he had been in hiding for the past three years. Suddenly, for no apparent reason, he had shown up in his sparkly, candy-apple red biplane.
No one knew how, no one knew why. Nevertheless, he had listlessly taken off down the runway and into the sky, spilling out billows of black show smoke behind him in two ominous, severe, English words:
SURRENDER DOROTHY.
Raito smiled.
"Who's Dorothy?" Ryuzaki asked quizzically from his right, completely desecrating the ambiance of the moment. Raito snapped around, calm, and then proceeded to not tell him.
The mini-death gave him a look, then mentioned that Raito had better get to class. Raito hopped along down the hall, looking more cheerful than usual, he was sure.
He'd gotten out of the hospital quite a while ago and was enjoying his freedom. That was his excuse. Students and teachers alike had accepted it, and he had instantly become even more famous throughout the school than he had been before his heart attack.
Raito Yagami was the only person to have suffered at the hands of this Unknown Psycho-Killer and lived.
Oh, yes, Raito was very fortunate that he'd lived.
Oh yeah.
Scary person, that killer.
Yep.
Raito sat back in his desk and stretched like a cat. Ryuzaki made a wry comment on his mood, which the Great Kira promptly ignored, and then wandered around the room as he usually did. Teacher number one slithered through the door, nearly bumping into the mass of chilled air that was Ryuzaki, and asked Raito how he was feeling.
Which was annoying.
Every day, when the teachers made their visits to his class, each one would stop and ask him how he was feeling. Raito understood that they were under strict instructions from Interpol and the Tokyo Police Force, namely his father, to do so.
The constant monitoring of his health was beginning to piss him off. "I'm fine," he said grudgingly, brushing the question off. Everyone in the room stared at him as if they expected him to keel over and die right then and there.
That was another thing that pissed him off.
He had rumors buzzing over his head like flies. He wanted desperately to swat every last one of them out of the air, but it was impossible.
'I heard Raito has superpowers.'
'I heard he's a Martian.'
'You think the librarian's ghost is hanging around him?'
'Maybe he got bit by some weird spider and now he's invincible.'
'And maybe he'll start shooting spider webs out of his hands, swinging from buildings, and being chased by some Frisbee-riding psychopath in green and purple spandex wearing a Halloween mask.'
Hah hah.
Fuck that.
Raito wanted to go home. He hadn't had enough time to experiment, dammit! He had to go to school and pay attention, though. What would his parents think if star-student Raito Yagami's grades suddenly took a dive?
Suspicious?
Raito thought so.
"I'm bored," said Ryuzaki. Raito buried his head in his arms.
"Something wrong, Raito-san?" Damn. Fucking teacher saw him. Raito raised his head a little and said, "Nothing, just tired I guess."
"Ah," the teacher said, pushing his glasses up higher on the bridge of his nose, "It would do you well to get more sleep when it is more opportune to do so."
"Yes sir."
And life went on.
----
Raito seemed a bit more eager than usual to get home. L asked him why.
"Because," said Raito. L scrunched up his nose and snorted. He just knew that he never should have told Raito about this. Now Kira was obsessed with finding the limits to his capabilities. He was a fanatic.
Perhaps that was why L was reluctant to provide him with the information he sought. Raito would become obsessed. If he went into detail about the first Kira, there was no telling what Raito would do.
There were thousands of little tiny details surrounding his death, and Raito was sure to unearth each one and beat it lifeless.
However, if L persisted in his secrecy, the Yagami would become obsessed anyway. He'd never leave him alone. L wouldn't have a second of peace. Perhaps, if Kira decided to ask him again, he'd go one detail at a time.
Knowing Raito, if L decided to tell him so much as the first Kira's hair color, he'd go on a head-hunt.
So frustrating…
And who was this 'DOROTHY?'
Maybe Raito was a DOROTHY fanatic too.
School was out and, all in the name of subtlety, Raito rocketed out the door. L went racing after him.
"Raito-san!' he grumbled loudly, "Run slower!"
Raito looked back at him as if that was the stupidest thing he'd ever heard and didn't slow down at all. L figured as much. He huffed to himself before deciding that desperate times called for desperate measures. He melted straight into the floor and emerged on the sidewalk outside of the building.
If Raito's habits were anything to live by, he would be running past this very spot in thirty seven seconds. Slyly, L melted back into the cement and waited.
Thirty
Twenty nine.
Twenty eight…
L yawned. He could feel the vibrations of hundreds of students spilling down the stairs. Among them would be his target. Oh, Raito would lament the day he ever defied L.
Oh yes.
Six.
Five…
L pushed up slightly on the slab of concrete, feeling it rise an inch or so. He instantly flew up out of the ground, hid in a tree a few feet away, and watched.
He didn't have to wait long. Raito's eyes gazed at the ground in horror. He tried to slow down, but alas, inertia would be his downfall.
Quite literally.
Two.
One.
Raito cursed, caught the toe of his shoe on the sidewalk's edge, and fell. Gracefully, loudly, and punctually. Just the way Raito would have wanted. L clapped his hands together in triumph and hummed approvingly at the mess he had made.
Raito removed himself from the pavement, brushed off any unwanted stares along with the dust on his uniform, and stood there looking every bit like the Queen of Tokyo and not caring a whit. L loved the look on his face. Lips turned down, eyebrows scuffed, eyes narrowed, nose in the air… So typical.
His Majesty the Queen focused his righteous glare on L, plotting to exact his revenge, no doubt. L felt silly, so he gave him a silly look.
"You earned it," L said, biting his tongue to keep from making a fool of himself. His Majesty, as L was now going to refer to him, stuck his nose further into the air and marched onward. The psychopomp, who was more than happy with his work, sauntered jovially at his heels.
Once they were a fair distance away from school, Raito wheeled around and hissed, "That's the last time you make a fool of me!" He wrung an imaginary L's neck in his fists.
"I did tell you to slow down, did I not?"
"That was cheap," His Majesty growled, looking nothing short of adorable, all scuffed up as he was. L knew that wasn't his intention, but nevertheless, Raito was very fluffy when he was angry. It was in suddenly appraising Raito Yagami's cuteness that L noticed he was limping. His Majesty must have twisted his ankle.
"You hurt your ankle," said L.
"You hurt my ankle," Raito corrected. "Besides," he said darkly, "I'm fine. Just leave me alone."
L bit his thumb.
Oops.
It seemed he had gone too far. One thing was for sure, and that was that Raito had absolutely no tolerance for humiliation. Perhaps said mortal was not used to being played tricks on. Maybe he had a strange sense of humor.
Correction.
Raito did have a strange sense of humor.
"It looks like you broke it," L said, taking the way his shoe twisted when he walked into consideration.
"I didn't break it, you idiot," Raito snarled, "You did."
"So your foot is broken then?"
"I didn't say that."
"You did."
"Look," Raito growled in exasperation, "The point is, this is all your fucking fault. My foot isn't broken. I can't break my foot by tripping on a fucking crack in the fucking sidewalk. If you hadn't pushed that fucking slab up, which I know you did, by the way, we wouldn't be having this fucking problem."
"You swear too much," L pointed out with his thumb in his teeth.
"I can swear how much I damn well fucking want, you son of a bitch!"
L counted three on his fingers. He glanced once more at Raito's unnaturally floppy foot. "You should really have that looked at," he said, feeling slightly guilty.
L never guessed that his last comment would send Raito reeling over the edge. Kira wheeled around in a flash, eyes burning and lips curled into a snarl. He fixed L in place with the steely eye of a tiger.
"You know what, Ryuzaki?" He began freakishly coolly, throwing his backpack on the ground and dashing all of its contents to the pavement, "Why don't I just kill my dad, huh?"
L sank into the ground. Of course Raito would be concerned about his father. Hmm… what else could he have overlooked? The psychopomp had just stepped onto a minefield.
"Why don't I just give him a heart attack now instead of waiting until he dies because he's worried too much about me? Wouldn't that be easier on him? Do you want to kill my dad, Ryuzaki?" Raito was now standing defiantly, arms open wide and face red, looking like he wanted to boot L halfway across the world.
"Pardon me," L said snidely in a final effort to gain control of the situation.
If anything, that remark only served to fuel the fires of His Majesty's rage.
"Fuck, Ryuzaki! My dad's already worried enough about me as it is! I already have an army of people waiting to rush me to the hospital if I sneeze! Do me a fucking favor and GO AWAY!"
Kira swiftly turned his back, swept up all of his belongings in one hand, hefted his backpack over his shoulder, and hoofed it for home.
L stood there, in Raito's queenly dust, and moped.
For the second time in his life, L didn't know what to do.
----
Raito couldn't believe it. The nerve of that fucking idiot!
He lay on his bed, listening to himself breathe.
When Raito came in the door, he flew straight up the stairs. He vaguely remembered Sayu trying to get his attention, but he didn't care. The pain in his foot was enough to drown her out.
Raito looked over at the aforementioned offending foot. It was swollen. Every time he moved it, it hurt like hell.
Raito held his face in one hand and fell back onto his mattress again.
This was not supposed to happen. Did Death ever twist his ankle? No! Did God ever trip over an uneven sidewalk? No! This was not supposed to happen!
He expected that annoying son-of-a-rich-man's-dog to come careening through the wall at any minute. Raito was going to kick his spidery ass. He was going to find a way, by God. How dare that idiot trip him! Of course, Raito knew it was Ryuzaki's fault. He knew it from the start.
He tripped him.
It was his fault Raito's foot was twisted.
God, this was bad. Not only did his foot hurt, but… well… tripping and falling on the sidewalk wasn't good for his image. Raito didn't understand. Why, if he was Kira, the God of Death, did all this shit keep happening to him? And why couldn't he keep cool about it?
This whole 'Kira' deal wasn't working out.
Raito immediately slapped himself. He couldn't afford to be thinking that way. All he needed to do was relax. Relax and watch out for Ryuzaki.
And kick his ass.
Raito was repeating himself, wasn't he? Ah, well. All the more to reinforce his point. Ryuzaki was a fool. An idiot. And Raito was going to kill him.
Raito allowed himself a minute or two to cool down, and then resolved to sit at his desk with the news switched on. He did nothing but breathe for several minutes, trying to calm himself down. When he deemed he was levelheaded enough to do his job right, he focused his attention on the television screen.
Raito snapped a few times before realizing that it was making him feel better. It was like a relaxation exercise. Not that he was complaining, of course. Raito was secure in the fact that no matter how much anyone pissed him off, he always had a way to get back at them. Raito liked being God. Oh hell yes.
Maybe he'd force Ryuzaki's sins on a mortal or two.
He could kill whoever he wanted, whenever he wanted, however he wanted. The first person he killed would hang himself in his jail cell. Kira hadn't specified how, and he was curious to see whether or not, because of his lack of detail, it would happen. His second victim would die by throwing himself off of the Sears Tower in exactly four hours, thirty minutes, and seventeen seconds. However, said person was currently imprisoned in Australia. He was eager to see how that one turned out. The third would kill his colleagues before he was shot by police. The rest, he prescribed heart attacks to, all under different circumstances of course, just to keep things interesting.
Yes, Raito had complete control.
Over any human, anyway.
Speaking of which, where was Ryuzaki?
Raito pushed his chair away from his desk, leaned backward, and peered out the sliding glass doors leading to his balcony.
There was no one there. Raito raised an eyebrow, unimpressed.
That asshole was probably hiding down in the kitchen, stuffing himself. Ryuzaki and his fucking cookies. Raito despised him.
He rolled his office chair back to his desk and resumed his work.
Ten people.
Ten convicts before dinner.
That was Raito's goal for the day. It sounded psychotic, setting goals to see how many people he could kill in one afternoon. Yet, Kira derived a sick satisfaction from accomplishing his goals. It was also a welcome distraction from the current turmoil between himself and his panda-eyed nemesis.
So far, he'd accomplished seventy percent. That was seven people. Easy math. However, there were likely only five to ten minutes until he was called down for dinner.
What a thrill.
Raito would have to resort to using his computer. He punched the power button and his computer crackled to life. He kept one eye on the news and one eye on the loading screen, which was taking forever, by the way. In a while, his second information source was up and running.
Raito typed his fingers off. He found two people worthy of his judgment. A busjacker who killed two people and another sex offender on Death Row. Everyone else was… well…
Not only did he want the best criminals out of the lot, he also wanted quick results. If he killed people in jail, he'd most certainly find out about it a day or so later. Then there was his goal to consider…
Hell. Raito couldn't afford to be picky. Dinner was anytime now. He picked a third out of his list, snapped, and leaned back in his chair.
Oh yeah.
Ten people.
Ten convicts before dinner.
"Raito-kun! Dinner's ready!"
Raito smiled to himself. "Coming!" he announced all too sickly with satisfaction. He languidly pushed himself out of his chair and limped down the stairs. Regally, mind you. He had to keep his cool on.
Once everyone was sitting at the table, Raito noticed that everyone was not sitting at the table. He looked left, then right. Then he fixed Sachiko in her seat with what he thought to be a puzzled glance.
"Where's dad?" he asked.
His mother sighed. "He's at work late tonight," interrupted Sayu intelligently, "He said they found a new lead on the Case."
"Sayu!" Sachiko admonished, "You were eavesdropping on your father's call!"
…Oh?
Raito raised an eyebrow. "Eavesdropping?" he asked smugly.
"Yeah," she gave her mom a look, "I saw his cell number on the caller ID and I got curious, okay?" Raito could tell by the indignant tone in her voice that she was afraid for her dad.
Raito crossed his arms. So they'd found a lead? Hah! What lead could the Police Force possibly have? What sort of evidence could they find of a killer who killed with his mind?
"So," he said offhandedly once everyone had started eating, "What's this about a lead?"
Sachiko gave her daughter a glare before saying, "It's not our place to say, Raito. Your father will have to decide whether or not he wants you to know. That call was supposed to be a secret."
"Sorry," muttered Sayu.
Raito mumbled thoughtfully to himself, then cheerily mentioned, "He gave me a heart attack," as if that explained everything. Sachiko looked at him funny. "I know, Raito. I'm sure your father will want you to know, but I want him to tell you himself. You know how dangerous it is to him if I leak classified information."
Raito nodded.
The rest of his dinner was eaten in awkward silence.
The awkward part being that there were no unexplained noises or missing cookies yet to be reported.
Ryuzaki was not there.
It was weird. He was so used to the invisible man's presence that the house almost seemed to be missing something. It felt…
Empty.
It was annoying.
Raito snorted to himself and announced to his family that he was finished with his dinner and he was going back upstairs to study. College entrance exams were in two days. He needed to burn midnight oil if he was going to survive this one.
Yeah.
Hah.
Raito cracked himself up.
He climbed the stairs with an iron grip on the railing. He needed to hide that limp of his, lest his mother see it and blow her top. He also didn't want to cause Sayu any more grief than he already had. She hid it well, but he could tell she was walking on pins and needles.
He made it safely to his room.
His empty, Ryuzaki-less room.
And he was glad, by God. He didn't want that brainless nuisance anywhere near him anyway.
…
He fell over onto his bed and stared at his ceiling. After a few productive minutes of doing absolutely nothing, Raito whistled to himself and started twiddling his toes. He hated to admit it, but he was bored. He wasn't used to having nothing to do.
He was used to Ryuzaki, always asking him questions about humans and ragging on him about something. It was odd not having his voice constantly invading his thoughts. It was a blessing, and yet…
He sat up instantly with that thought and cast a desperate look at his backpack. Yes… he could study. That was what he said he'd come up here to do, no? He padded over to it and withdrew a few books and pieces of paper. He set them all on his desk, next to his computer and his trusty television. Kira sat in his chair again, whipped open his text book, and studied.
Yes, he was doing something productive. Studying was something he couldn't do with Ryuzaki around. He wondered if, other than saving his life a few times, the psychopomp was capable of being helpful at all.
When he was bored with the first text book, he withdrew another from his backpack. Calculus to quantum physics. That was what it felt like. Book after book after book.
It was ten fifty.
If he was going to do well in school the next day, Raito needed to sleep. However…
He cast a wary glance outside. It was dark and cold out there. There were shinigami out there. Cautiously, he got out of his chair and approached the glass. He peered through his reflection at the sky and the dimly lit houses across the street. Nothing peculiar enough to take note of, he thought.
Regardless, Raito stood stock still for a very long time. He focused all of his attention on the sounds of the room. Other than the occasional, soft buzz of the digital clock and unexplainable creak in the house, he heard nothing.
It was too quiet.
Raito imagined he must have been making a fool out of himself. The Great and Powerful Kira was afraid of the dark. However, the Great and Powerful Kira had a good reason to be afraid of the dark. Yes he did, by God.
There were things living in that darkness that could be listening to him. Watching him.
Waiting.
Keeping an eye trained on the glass doors, Raito slunk further into the safety of his room. He took his shirt off and tossed it somewhere. His belt would have followed, but Raito kept it and stashed it underneath his pillow. Had his better judgment been active, he might have dealt with that certain article of clothing differently. However, his wary self instructed him to keep it near. A belt, when used properly, was a valuable crime deterrent.
He turned the light off, eased himself into his blankets, and wrapped them around him, keeping his eyes fixed on the windows.
Something moved.
Raito's eyes shot over to the floor and his hair stood on end. His eyes searched the wood panels for any sign of movement. Alas, it was dark. Whatever movement there might have been was swallowed into the gloom. Raito grumbled to himself. Just a figment of his imagination.
But…
Shinigami.
Everywhere.
In the corners, in the ceiling, out the window, under his bed, waiting in his closet even. Their glowing, red eyes watching him. Raito turned over in his bed. God, he was making a fool of himself. There was nothing there.
Nothing.
And yet he could not close his eyes.
Raito could not go to sleep.
Where was Ryuzaki? Where was that sick little fuck? Wasn't it him who was normally worried about Raito? Wasn't it Ryuzaki who said the only reason Raito was alive was because he was there?
God above.
Raito was going to die.
Of course, he tried to shrug the feeling off. He wrapped his blankets further around himself and shivered. He had to keep calm. He had to keep his wits about him. He'd never felt so ashamed.
Raito was afraid of the dark. The dark, dammit! Toddlers were afraid of the dark! Gods of Death were supposed to live in darkness! Here Raito was, God of the Pansies. Afraid of the gawdmutherfuckin' dark!
"Ryuzaki, you asshole!" Raito whisper-hissed.
When Raito said he wanted him to 'GO AWAY,' this was not what he had expected. Sure, it was terrific for a while. Now Raito didn't feel so hot.
Speaking of not feeling so hot…
Oh Jesus.
He was going to die of hypothermia. How, Raito wasn't sure. All he knew was that he wasn't feeling as warm as he had last night. His foot hurt too. Shit. It probably got infected or something and he was dying of AIDS. He didn't know exactly how his twisting of the ankle, hypothermia, and AIDS all fit in together, but he didn't care. While he was at it, Raito postulated that, within the next half hour, he would die of a conglomeration of AIDS, hypothermia, the flu, food poisoning, hemophilia, Ebola, the panel on the ceiling falling on his diaphragm and suffocating him, his blankets encircling his throat and suffocating him, and drowning in some way or another.
Now, as an outsider would describe, this was not the way a sane Raito thought. However, given the circumstances, Raito reasoned that his reaction was perfectly sane. He'd been humiliated far too many times by Ryuzaki, who was not in the room and who Raito required to be in the room if he were to survive, some sort of lead had been found concerning him, he had a heart attack not long ago, and a shinigami was out for his blood.
They were going to get him.
Those bastard shinigami.
Ryuk was probably laughing his ugly head off.
And decapitation.
Raito was going to die by that too. After his body temperature had hit room temperature and he'd suffocated.
Just then, something happened that would have easily given Raito his second heart attack.
Ryuk's head popped out of the wall and said, "Yo."
----
L certainly hoped Raito was enjoying his absence.
L hadn't known what to do at first. He'd sulked for a while, long after Raito had disappeared, actually. He felt a strong need to follow and guard him, against his wishes, but instead L respected Raito's demands.
After thoroughly thinking the matter over, L decided that he'd go wreak havoc downtown somewhere to alleviate his boredom. He'd come across a bakery not too long ago, and now he was sitting in a refrigerator full of cake.
And he thought cookies were good.
He had come into the refrigerator initially not expecting much. He was depressed, (which, L understood, elicited a craving for sweets,) and he sincerely doubted that the power of Sayu's baking could be overcome by any other snack imaginable.
A little miracle wrapped in pink cellophane proved him wrong.
L was grateful for Raito's rage earlier, for were it not for said attitude of said human, L would never have found said Fridge of God. It was under these strenuous circumstances that L was introduced to the mightiest treat of all.
The Strawberry Shortcake.
THE Strawberry Shortcake.
With capitals.
He unwrapped another plate of cake and shoveled the spongy goodness into his mouth. His tongue sang. The initial surprise of finding something as heavenly as the Strawberry Shortcake ignited a ravenous hunger in L. As a result, the fridge of cake was more than half empty.
L smacked his lips and licked his fingers before moving on to the next plate. He was flying. L was floating in a pink, fluffy, sugary world of strawberry goodness. The little marshmallow bunnies frolicked in the strawberry fields next to the babbling brook of strawberry syrup, which flowed through the miles and miles of puffy, white cake orchard.
Hah.
Funny.
Maybe there was LSD in his cake.
Goodie!
L shoveled another piece into his face.
As the fridge magically emptied itself, L got to thinking of Raito. There was something tugging at the back of his mind, telling him that he should have been at Kira's house, in Kira's room, making sure something didn't happen to him.
But Raito had made his decision, and that was to exile L to a land of his own devices. Also, that thought didn't involve any spongy, sweet, fruity phrases containing the words 'strawberry' and 'shortcake.'
So L tossed it out the window and stuffed another piece of cake in his mouth.
----
"Get the fuck out of my room."
That was all Raito had to say to him.
Ryuk tilted his head and puffed out a breathy 'hurmmm?' Raito decided to make his point more clear. "Get out of my room. Right now. Get out." He brandished his belt for good measure.
"Why?" said the shinigami as he morphed completely through the wall.
"You tried to kill me."
Ryuk tapped his head with one fingernail. "I did?"
Raito scrunched up his nose. "Yes. You gave me a heart attack with that stupid notebook of yours."
Ryuk continued tapping at his head with his nails. He looked generally clueless, so Raito restated his problem. "I had a heart attack. You're the one with the notebook and the incentive. You did it."
"I don't remember doing that," the shinigami hummed, "But there was this one shinigami who was all mad at herself 'cuz her notebook didn't work."
Raito relaxed slightly. "So it wasn't you then?"
"Nope."
Raito sighed, slouching in his bed and running a hand through his hair. Just about lost his cool there.
"So where's that psycho-doohicky buddy of yours, anyway?" the shinigami asked stupidly. Raito blew a puff of air at his bangs. "I told him to go away," he said.
"Oh?" Ryuk said interestedly. "Yeah," Raito grumbled, "He never listens to what I say normally, now I tell him to go away and guess what! Off he goes!" he made a dramatic gesture with his arms before sighing for the umpteenth time.
Ryuk was quiet for a while. He just stood there like an enormous vulture, waiting for something. Raito narrowed his eyes in annoyance.
"The apples are in the kitchen."
"Thanks."
"Whatever."
And the shinigami disappeared.
Raito was alone again. He always liked being alone. So why didn't he like it now? He sat up in bed and cast the world a baleful look.
He was used to having someone pestering him at all hours of the day. Normally this would be considered annoying. Raito, surprisingly, found himself missing it. He hated himself for it. The God of Death was a solitary creature. He didn't need anyone else to keep him company. So why did he want Ryuzaki to come back so badly?
Why, dammit?
Raito buried his face in his hands and groaned.
Why?
And who was this other shinigami, anyhow? Who dared to challenge his power? Ryuk mentioned something about it being a female.
Typical.
"You look kinda' under the weather," said the shinigami, which had resorted to using his bedroom door to truck in the mass of apples he had in his arms. "You're no prize yourself," Raito retorted.
Ryuk laughed a creepy, hollow laugh and stuffed another apple in his mouth. He floated around the room, happily munching away and not saying anything else. Raito thought it was a good time to ask him about that other shinigami.
"So who's the one after my ass, then?" he asked in the most haughty, pissed-off voice he could manage. "Hurmmm?" said Ryuk.
"The shinigami chick who tried to kill me. Who is she?"
Ryuk eyed him for a moment, then said, "Why do you want to know?"
Raito smiled.
"She gave me a heart attack."
"Yep, that's what we do. Musta' been feeling kinda' threatened with you killing all those people off and all," said Ryuk as-a-matter-of-factly.
Raito's pride took over and he bit down on his lip to keep from smirking. Perhaps, if he had a little background information on this mystery shinigami, Raito could kill her too. Justice would be served.
"So, your name's Ryuk," Raito said slowly, "What's hers?"
Ryuk gave him a funny look, then burst out in maniacal laughter, spewing bits of apple across the room. Raito, disturbed by this outburst, waited for the shinigami to calm down. "Tell me!" he said indignantly. "Hah! Hah hah! Hoo hah hah haaah!" was the answer he received.
Raito, aware that he was getting slightly red in the face, stood his ground and stayed completely silent.
"That's a good one, Raito!" Ryuk giggled all too familiarly. The addressed boy fluffed himself out in exasperation and embarrassment. "Tell me," he hissed venomously. The shinigami zoomed in on him. "And why would you wanna' know?" he breathed.
Raito knew when he'd been sniffed out.
He decided to give his own ego a boost. He smirked, trying to hide his anxiety and alarm. "Guess you're smarter than you look."
"Eh? Really?" the shinigami belched, "That other Kira tried that trick too."
"Oh?" Raito smirked genuinely this time. So Ryuk was lying when he said he didn't know much about the first Kira? Maybe, since Ryuzaki would tell him nothing on the subject, he could pester the shinigami instead.
Why wouldn't Ryuzaki tell him anyway? Did he have a past with this Kira? A romantic past? Raito grimaced at how difficult it was to stomach the words 'Ryuzaki' and 'romance' in one sentence.
"I'll tell you this, just to save me a little pain later. And I want you to know that I am by no means telling you this because I like you," Ryuk breathed, "Just 'cuz I don't want you yelling at me later."
Raito frowned. "What's this you're babbling about?
"You can't kill a shinigami."
Raito's eyes widened in disbelief and disappointment. His questions about Kira number one took a temporary back seat. "What do you mean?"
"Well, technically, you can kill us, but not directly. You have no idea what our real names are. You have no idea what we looked like when we were human. Not even we know that. I suppose if you found out who we used to be, you could kill us." Ryuk scratched his head subconsciously, "Only the King never was a human I don't think… so…" and here he stopped.
Raito's frown deepened. So shinigami were once human? How did one become a shinigami, then? So many questions he had. It made him feel like a preschooler all over again.
He asked.
"Well, you've gotta' find one of our notebooks and use it. No one who uses a Death Note can go to heaven or hell. That's all."
"Interesting," said Raito. "So. About Kira. The one before me." Raito changed the subject, having all the information he needed from the previous one, "You said you didn't know much about him. I know better. Tell me."
Ryuk gave him a curious look. "You really that interested in him?" he asked.
"Yes," growled Raito impatiently.
"Well, he was this guy," began Ryuk, scratching his head. Raito leaned in and listened. He couldn't believe his luck. Finally! He was hearing what he wanted to hear! After all that waiting. This was it. Other than curiosity, Raito didn't have any reason in particular to be so excited over a small topic like this. However, Ryuzaki made a scene every time Raito asked about this Kira. That alone was enough to fuel Raito's obsessive side. After all, the forbidden fruit was always the sweetest.
"He was blonde with a really weird hairdo. I think he was Spanish. Maybe French." Ryuk scratched his head, "Which were the guys who liked chocolate way back when?"
"When?"
"I dunno. White guys discovering America or something. Which were the guys who liked chocolate?"
"That would be the Spanish."
"Ah. He was Spanish then."
Raito frowned. He got the impression that the other Kira had been dead for eons. Relative to the lifespan of the planet, it wasn't that long ago. Then again, Ryuzaki did say that time passed differently in the realm of the psychopomp.
"Anyway, blondie… weird hairdo… chocolate… er… he really liked stirring up trouble I think. He started a mob in Los Angeles. That's pretty much all I remember."
"What was his name?" Raito asked urgently.
"I dunno," said Ryuk with a scratch of the head, "I think his name was-"
"Mello."
Raito blinked. His head snapped over to the other side of his room.
There, by the bookcase, was Ryuzaki, looking like he'd just been run over by a truck with pink gum all over its wheels. His eyes were narrowed dangerously, his lips were pressed in a thin line, and he was standing straighter than Raito had ever seen before.
And he was mad as hell.
----
Kira was a sneaky bastard.
Stealing information from the enemy, eh? L had waved goodbye to the Fridge of God and gotten to the house just in time to catch most of the conversation.
He was reminded of the horrors of Raito's obsessions. With this question and these answers he was receiving, there would be more questions. L would be forced to provide him with more answers.
L realized that he was not only afraid of Raito's obsessive nature, but also that said obsessive nature could lead him to be an exact copy of another Kira.
He'd be just like Mello.
And that was a horror in and of itself.
Even more horrifying, L was beginning to see a resemblance between the two. L hadn't bothered to peek into Mello's personal life, but from what Near told him, he could assume that Raito and Mello were exactly alike. Both of them were stubborn, bored of life, had a strong God-complex, and looked at killing as if it were a game. If Raito became any more Mello-esque, he'd kill everything. He'd be a cold-hearted, selfish glutton.
He'd toss the people who cared about him around like rag-dolls.
Just like Mello did to Near.
L needed to blindfold Raito before Mello's ghost glued his eyelids to his skull and made him watch himself tear his world apart.
Raito would become Mello.
And Mello was Death.
Destroyer of Worlds.
"That's enough, Ryuk," L announced, waltzing into the room as if he didn't have strawberry sauce all over his clothes (Which, when he thought about it, made no sense. If he could phase through walls with strawberry goo on his shirt, but not a plate full of cookies, something was amiss. Hmmm…).
"By the way," he addressed the shinigami once again, "What do you keep showing up for?"
"Apples," said Ryuk.
"Wrong," said Ryuzaki. He tapped his foot impatiently against the floorboards, "Now, I think it's about time you left, don't you?"
Ryuk got the hint. "Er… Bye," it said as it finished the core of its last apple and flew into the wall.
L's gaze snapped to Raito. He wasn't hurt, was he? No broken bones? No infected cuts? No strange, unexplainable cardiac arrests?
Except for his foot. That, L grudgingly admitted, was his fault.
There was a long silence in the bedroom of Yagami Raito. Neither he nor L said anything to each other. The psychopomp understood that the two of them were no longer on the best of terms. As a matter of fact, neither of them had been on the best of terms to start with. L was, however, concerned with his welfare.
He looked Raito in the eyes. Upon being stared at, said mortal narrowed his eyes and glared down his nose in defiance.
"How's your foot?" Ryuzaki asked flatly.
"Terrific," Raito replied like the Queen he was.
"Pardon me for caring, Yuki-heika," L said passively.
"Was that an insult?" Raito challenged, sitting up straight and glaring coldly into L's eyes. "It is as it is, Raito-san," the psychopomp reasoned ambiguously, "Take it as you like. Now how is your foot?"
"Since when do you give a shit about my foot?" hissed Raito.
"I admit that I am to blame for what happened. Now how is your foot?"
"Damn fucking right it's your fault."
"Would you like to argue with me, Raito-san?" L asked dangerously.
Raito eyed him, measuring him up for a prospective battle of wits and wittiness no doubt. L wouldn't have it. He let Raito scrutinize, provided that he got it through his thick skull that L would argue with him no longer.
Raito rigidly backed down and discarded any insult he might have prepared. "Hm," snorted L. "How is your foot?" he said for the fourth time.
"Fine," Raito lied. And the psychopomp could tell.
"Let me see it," L demanded blandly.
Raito was leering at him again. As trite and cliché as it sounded, Raito was baring a weakness in letting L examine that ankle of his. Raito was peculiar that way.
Mello was also very secretive about his weaknesses.
And that was a place L didn't want to go.
After four full minutes of pointless staring, Raito rolled his eyes, growled, and threw his blankets half off, revealing one khaki pant-clad leg. Ryuzaki hummed approvingly. Good.
Now they were getting somewhere.
L walked over to Raito, who was about as tame as an injured, caged, wild beast and proceeded to analyze his ankle. He wrinkled his nose and snorted. Raito looked as if someone had shoved a giant cherry down the inside of his leg. His ankle was swollen to twice its normal size and it was redder than red.
"Ah, Raito-san," L sympathized with eyebrows turned up and a thumb to his lips, "I apologize." The Yagami boy sighed and rolled his eyes back into his skull. L couldn't say he felt Raito's pain, but he could imagine.
"Do your parents happen to keep a roll of gauze anywhere?" he asked, scratching the back of his head and the back of his foot at the same time.
"The bathroom," Raito grumbled. Not expecting to hear directions, L walked noiselessly through the wall.
He was surprised that Raito was allowing him to take care of him. His pride had been injured along with his leg, and the most reckless, suicidal thing L could do was to bruise Raito's ego. That he was letting L tend to his injuries was a phenomenon. A miracle. L made it a point of his to enjoy the ceasefire while it lasted.
He navigated the halls until he found a bathroom. He searched the drawers and soon emerged with a roll of cloth. With this, at least he'd be able to stop the swelling in Raito's foot.
He used the door to get the roll of gauze into the room and shut it behind him, careful not to make a sound. In the mean time, Raito had resigned himself to his fate, lying absolutely still in his bed with his foot out. This made L very happy. He wrapped the gauze around Raito's foot, making it snug and at the same time being cautious not to cut off his circulation.
"This way," L explained, "the swelling in your foot will slow down. It should be less noticeable in the morning."
Raito said nothing.
When L was finished, he stood back and admired his masterpiece. He decided he'd do something else to alleviate Raito's pain. Raito would hate him for it initially, but it was a plus in the long run.
L took one last look at his bandaging, then reached a hand through Raito's foot. Raito yelped and kicked upward, his foot sailing straight through L's face.
A predictable response.
"What the fuck was that for?" he hissed.
"It will bring the swelling down, Raito-san," L said.
Raito glared at him. "It's cold," he growled skeptically. L nodded, "Yes, but think of it this way; in a while, you won't be able to feel it." Raito hesitated, and then lowered his foot again gingerly.
On a whim, L made a face and fell backwards onto Raito's foot.
The Yagami inhaled sharply and seized up. He gradually eased back into a horizontal position, sighing disapprovingly at L all the way. The both of them lay still for a very long time. L knew Raito wasn't asleep by the way he was breathing. Yet, he made no attempt at conversation. He was content to lie where he was.
He wondered what it was like to be cold. L didn't feel cold. Or perhaps he did, he wasn't sure. Maybe he was too used to temperature.
Numb.
It was a very personal question, but he wondered.
What did Raito feel like?
The question unearthed his thoughts of Raito when he'd seen him dozing on the couch the morning after he met him. He knew very well what Mello had been to Near. Obviously, if Near felt Mello was beautiful enough to watch him sleep, he must have felt or wanted to feel very close to the other boy.
But what had Near been to Mello?
If L were, perchance, to fall in love with Raito, there was no guarantee that his feelings would be returned. He hated to admit it, but there was a very measurable probability that the above scenario would play out.
If Raito became a cold, unloving bastard, where would that leave him?
Discarded?
Feeling inferior?
L didn't like it.
"Where were you?" Raito asked suddenly. Surprised by the question, L glanced down at his shirt, whose pink stains had mysteriously disappeared, then over at him. "I was at a bakery," he stated quite simply. Raito blinked over at him as if that told him nothing. L sighed.
"I was in a refrigerator at a bakery downtown."
"And what, pray tell, were you doing in there?"
"Eating cake."
Raito hummed tiredly to himself. His fatigue did not go unnoticed by L. "Perhaps you should sleep," he suggested.
"Why is telling me about Mello so difficult for you?" His Majesty the Queen asked with an icy edge in his voice.
The sudden change in mood annoyed L greatly. When he didn't answer, Kira got bold. "Was he your gay lover or something?"
Oh, he just had to say it. He just had to pervert something. He had to take the subject in its entirety and fling mud at it.
L threw caution to the wind. He turned to Raito, looked him squarely in the eye, and said, "He killed my best friend."
----
Well, Raito hadn't been expecting that.
Ryuzaki had friends?
Confused and tired, he asked of what relevancy that was to him. The mini-death glowered at him. His black eyes filled with lead and his hands balled into fists around his blankets. Raito had never been looked at that way before.
He had the sudden urge to crawl beneath a rock and die.
"You see?" the psychopomp spat snidely, "You're like him already! Are acquaintances a foreign concept to you, Mortal?"
No 'Raito-san?' Raito had also never been referred to as 'Mortal' before. And since when did Ryuzaki yell? It was an unwelcome and uncomfortable change.
"I've seen how you work, Mortal," there it was again, "and you look just like he did. He was a selfish, conceited bastard. He had no tolerance for failure. If he was humiliated by anyone, on any degree, he'd kill them. I told you before, he tried his power out on his closest friends just so he could get results sooner. Near was attached to him. My best friend, Near was. Mello had no heart. Kira took it. Kira stole Near's heart alongside his. God forbid Kira should eat your heart as well."
Raito tactfully and emotionlessly averted his gaze to the ceiling halfway through that speech.
Wow.
Well, he didn't quite know how to feel. He'd never dealt with anything this emotional from Ryuzaki. Come to think of it, that might have been the largest number of words Ryuzaki had ever said at once. Also, this Mello character seemed like a genius to him. Romantic issues aside, he sounded crafty, cunning, and enthusiastic. Raito liked it.
An uncomfortable and apologetic groan rose from the foot of Raito's bed.
"Ah," Ryuzaki sighed, "Gomen, Raito-san, sorry. I got carried away."
Raito kept his stone face on, aware that Ryuzaki was searching him for a reaction. If it was an epiphany Ryuzaki wanted from him, Raito wouldn't have anything to do with it. He'd have to disappoint.
The mini-death scrutinized his expression a moment longer before sighing to himself and falling on his back. "Another Mello is the last thing needed in my world or yours, Raito-san. Please, take that into consideration."
After a long, uncomfortable pause, Ryuzaki glanced over at him again.
"Raito-san," he said in such a strange tone that Raito looked over at him purely out of shock. The deep, angry black in Ryuzaki's eyes had calmed into something akin to a bleak, nondescript charcoal.
"I don't want to end up like Near."
----
Chibi Misa: Zomg.
Chibi L: Oh my. Was that something akin to smut at the end? Something darkly fluffy? Did I say something fluffy? Fluffy like cake? CAKE. Caaaake…
Chibi Raito: Fucking shit :(
Me: Oh my. I did make something remotely fluffeh at the end, didn't I? What, with Mello and Near and Raito and L and all.
Chibi L: Does this mean I have to like Raito?
Me: Yes.
Chibi L: But I don' WANNA' like Raito!
Chibi Raito: What? Does that mean I have to like him back?
Me: Yes!
Chibi Raito: How much do you plan on paying me?
Me: Don't be coy, Raito-chan. You know you like it.
Chibi Raito: Do NOT!
Me: Do TOO!
Chibi Raito: Do not.
Me: Do you really want to argue with the authoress of this fanwork? I control your destiny, you know.
Chibi Raito: -successfully beaten into submission-
Chibi L: Can I hug him?
Me: I think so. Careful though. He might bite you.
Chibi L: -pokes at Raito-
Chibi Raito: Gnarr! –bites-
Me: Bad Raito! –smacks-
Chibi Misa: While that's going on, review! Reviews are appreciated. Swirly uses reviews to feed her fanfics and make them all big and strong! This sweet little fanficcie needs your love and care! Don't let it starve! Review, review, review!