Dad comes home for dinner again a few days after the deaths of the FBI agents. I sit down at the table, avoiding my Dad's slightly hopeful gaze. I'm still horribly embarrassed by my stunt the last time he was here. I honestly hadn't meant to meet his brown eyes.
I know he's disappointed. But I can't bring myself to give him what he wants.
He starts talking, "Work has been stressful lately. We had most of the team walk out on us after Kira killed a few of the other members of the team. We now only have five people on the team, including me, and excluding L. It is very disappointing."
"I can imagine so," my mother agrees. "But if you are killed as well?"
"Then I am one more who was sacrificed in the attempt to catch Kira!" he declares, and I grin at my plate, which, once again, has the food barely touched, saved for being pushed around.
...
My headache is outrageous. I pull my eyes from my homework and drop my pencil onto the desk. I glance outside and see decent enough weather - I think I'll go for a walk. I need a break. Sighing, I stand and make my way over to my closet and pull out my jacket, pulling it on while is slide the door shut. It shuts with a soft click when I have my jacket all the way on. I toe on my shoes and turn away from the door of my closet, zipping the zipper and pulling out my music. I wrap the earphone cord around the back of my neck and stuff my hands in my pockets after I leave my room.
I hear Sayu and Sachiko arguing before I make it the whole way down the stairs. I roll my eyes as I enter the doorway to the living room, watching them for a moment. "-T? Does it have to be now?" Sayu whines, a cracker in her hand. She is staring at Mom incredulously, as if she cannot believe that what she just said.
Mom's voice is stern when she replies, "Your father's been pulling over nighters with no change of clothes! So, you're going to bring these to him." She holds a bag in her hands, and pushes it towards the teenage girl impatiently.
"But, Mom!" my sister whines again in response, "I already promised my friends that I'd go out with them today!"
I step into the room, asking, "Why don't I go?" They both turn to face me; Sayu's face hopeful and my mother's impatient, "I could use a break," I confess.
Immediately, Sayu's face breaks out into a large grin. "Thanks Raito! I owe you one next time!" My mother faces her, frowning, as Sayu bites her cracker.
Sachiko sighs, but agrees.
I smile and take the bag from her, heading out the front door. I pull my hood up over my head and look towards the ground, the bag on my arm as I walk down the street, towards the police headquarters. Not many people are out today, I notice, so I'm able to get there much faster than usual, not having to wait for a break in the usually long lines of cars, or for the crosswalks to become available.
I take out my phone when I'm only about a block away from the station. I flip it open, blinking at the screen before pressing the buttons to get to 'contacts'. I scroll down the line - my mother, Sayu, and some 'friends' from school - until I reach my father's number. I press 'call' and hold the phone to my ear, hearing it ring while I walk. I can see the station now. I frown when the machine tells me that the call is unable to go through, that the number has either been disabled or the phone is off. I know it is not the former, so it must be the latter. Maybe he is in a meeting of some sort?
I close my phone and slide it into my pocket, and look up. The sky is gray, so it will probably start snowing soon. I can't wait - the snow usually calms me down. I have no idea why.
Perhaps it is the silence.
I glance back down at the sidewalk, catching sight of the station as I do so. I jog across the street, the bag bouncing lightly against my hipbone, and I slow down to a walk when I reach the other sidewalk. I grab a hold of the door and pull it open, feeling the warmth of heated rooms blowing in my face.
A woman is in the police station. She is talking to the secretary, demanding to see someone. The man continuously denies her, saying that whoever it is isn't there, and that they won't be for some time. "Please," she says slowly, like she's at the end of her wits. "I need to speak to someone directly from the special investigation task force. It's urgent!" This last line is rushed, and she slaps her hand lightly on the counter top as if to prove her point.
"I'm sorry, ma'am," the secretary apologizes, "but I can't help you. As I've already told you, there is no one here from task force headquarters right now." She sighs, exasperated.
I blink slowly, recognizing that, if no one is in from the task force headquarters, then they must be in a meeting somewhere with L. I wouldn't doubt it. "Can't you contact them somehow?" she demands, and I get the feeling that this is not the first time she's asked this question. "Tell them I have special information pertaining to the Kira Investigation!"
I begin to walk forward, just as the man says patiently, "Look, I'll call one more time for you, if you'll wait just a moment." He picks up the phone and dials a couple of numbers while the woman stands waiting.
I pointedly ignore her when I walk up to the other side of the desk and place the bag on the counter. "Hi," I say, falsely cheerful. "I'm Detective Soichiro Yagami's son, Raito Yagami. I've brought my father a change of clothes, but it doesn't look like he's in. Can I just leave them here?"
I know I can, so I am unsurprised when he says, "Sure! Hey," he adds, "I haven't seen you around here for a while, Raito-kun."
"Um," I blink, and then glance upward from his shoulder to his name. It falls into place immediately. I remember him, as he was here when I helped solve cases in the past.
He takes my lack of response the wrong way. "What, you don't remember?" he asks, voice thick with disbelief. "You helped solve the Insurance Fraud Murder Investigation. Sometime last year." He removes the bag from the counter, "But hey, no one remembers the receptionists, do they?"
I mumble some excuse involving not being good with faces - which is, of course, bullshit - and scribble my name down on the paper on the counter. "So Raito-kun, does this mean you're going to help us sometime with the Kira Investigation, too?"
I glance up in his direction, and reply, "Sure. If all goes well, maybe I'll find Kira before L does." I hope.
The phone clicks. "As I thought, there is no one at headquarters right now. You're going to have to trust me on this, ma'am. I'll be sure to give them your message as soon as I see them, I promise." What good, I wonder absently, is a promise from a stranger?
"That's not good enough!" she cries. "I have to tell them in person!"
I glance at her one more time. I briefly mull over helping the woman out, but when some father-son couple walks in behind me, I decide against it, and turn, then walk out of the station without looking back.
...
I check into the police database again, barely noticing as my bag falls to the carpet with a soft thunk. The first thing I notice is a new case - a missing person was filed earlier, while I was in school. I double click on the file, and a picture comes up, along with all of her information. She's pretty, I think, noticing her long black hair and typical Japanese facial features. She's got a nice smile. The only thing that isn't so nice is the lack of name and lifespan above her head, which means she's dead.
And it isn't hard to figure out her killer was. As I read over the information, a few things stick out to me. The first is her name - Naomi Misora. The second is that she was a former FBI agent. The third detail is that she once worked for L directly, on her own, while on probation. Together, the two of them had solved a case involving three murders and an attempted suicide. The LABB Murder Cases, apparently - it has a very catchy name. The final detail I notice is that she was engaged to Raye Penber. That, clearly, and her intelligence, are what prompted Kira to kill her. He could play it off as a suicide. But she must've discovered some vital Intel that could've brought him down. What was it?
Then I remember. I think back to the day I brought Dad clothes, and I feel a sting of guilt. That was her. That woman demanding to see the Task Force was Naomi. Maybe I could have saved her. Whether I could've or not, it doesn't matter. She's dead, and there is no turning back time.
...
When I get home a few days later, the first thing I notice is that there is something different. It's not really anything I can pinpoint, but namely just the general atmosphere of the house. I call out, despite knowing that no one is home. I go upstairs to my room, my eyes glancing at everything on the way there. Then I notice what it is. Two things tell me that someone smart was in my room.
The first is the angle of my door handle. It's at a 180-degree angle, rather than at the 190-degree angle I naturally place it at. At first, that habit had been simple paranoia on my part - a typical teenage act of defiance. Then, as the years went by, it became more of a habit than anything else, and I have to admit - it has come in handy. My mother sometimes goes in there to take out my trash or leave some sort of surprise on my bed while I'm at school. I always know that something has been changed in there, anyway.
But this time, I know it wasn't my mother. I know this because of the piece of paper in my door frame - it had been put back in place. My mother never notices it, so it's usually on the floor inside my room.
It takes me all of two seconds to notice these things, and in that time, I haven't stopped walking normally, nor have I given any reaction to the disturbances. I reach my door and slip inside, catching the paper slip as it falls and placing it on the bedside table where I normally keep it. I know, as soon as my door is closed, that I am being watched. The hairs on the back of my neck stand up, and I struggle greatly to keep my eye color under control. The eyes are normally what alerts me to these things, and sometimes I appreciate it. I don't know why they warn me; perhaps it is some sort of instinct that is caused by whatever Supernatural power these eyes are normally associated with. Like now, for instance. If I had let myself go, as I usually do when I am alone, I would have had my secret blown. All of my hard work and careful avoidance would have been for naught, and there would have been nothing I could do.
But I know that there are cameras in my room. They're all over the house, I bet, and that is what is causing the change in atmosphere. I lower my gaze to the floor and drop my bag, pulling off my jacket. I hang up my jacket and sink into my chair. I stare at nothing for a good three hours, thinking about nothing and everything all at once. My music is blaring in my ears, my bottom lip is between my teeth, drawing small dots of blood that I drink up all too eagerly. I know L put the cameras in, and I know they are primarily in my room. This is slightly upsetting. This means I am under suspicion of being Kira. My only question is why. Why am I a suspect, of all people? Life really isn't fair.
I'm jolted out my thoughts by my door slamming open and Sayu telling me loudly, "Dinner time, Onīsan!" and bolting down the stairs. For a moment I'm stunned, because she has never, ever done that before. I stare stupidly at the door, and I can just hear L laughing his ass of at my expression. I pull myself from it, though, and place my mask back in place. I blink several times as I make my way downstairs, having barely blinked at all in three hours. I'm almost certain they are red-rimed and bloodshot. "Hideki Ryuga," she says loudly, "I swear he's perfect! How come no one in my class is like that?" she wonders aloud.
I glance into the living room, and suddenly Sayu's odd behavior makes a whole lot of sense. Her new favorite movie star, Hideki Ryuga, just released his latest movie and it is premiering tonight. I almost want to shoot the T.V. Almost. "Com'on, Sayu, come eat," Mom calls.
"No. I can eat later," she replies, curling up really close in front of the television. Ryuga's face appears on the television, and he's drenched from rain. I really want to shoot the television when he goes on and on about how much he loves the girl standing across from him. I wonder how the actors actually feel about making movies like this. Probably ridiculous, and just a tad suicidal.
Instead of putting a metaphorical bullet in the movie star's head, however, I sit down at the table and stare at my food. I pick up the chopsticks and pick at it a little, and my mother finally - finally - notices that I barely eat at dinner anymore.
"Ratio, dear, you need to eat. You can't just keep picking at your food like this. What's wrong?"
I take a minute to answer, sticking the chopstick into a piece of chicken then watching it slide off. "The whole thing is making me nervous," I answer.
My mother is about to further inquire about my cryptic reply when Sayu lets out a loud whine. "No… Mama! They interrupted the movie-eh? What…? The ICPO say, that in response to the Kira murders, they, Interpol, have sent 1500 agents to Japan to investigate Kira?"
"The ICPO is clearly just stupid. That is obviously fake," I say before I can think about it. Sachiko and Sayu both turn to look at me, confusion lacing their expressions. I feel the tips of my ears heat up, and I duck my head slightly, before I look at the T.V. "I mean, that's just a trap. The Task Force wouldn't be so stupid as to announce if reinforcements were here. It would make much more sense to just keep that a secret, so that Kira couldn't get to them at all." I pause to think about that. "At least, I surely hope they aren't that dumb. That would worry me greatly if they were. Just think - if there really are 15 hundred agents here, and they announce it like they just want Kira to pick them off, it's like they're asking to die. And this is the government we place our trust in? Dear God, we're all going die." I laugh to illustrate my point, and both ladies relax. How do you like that, L? I think sourly. "And, the agents that were sent here previously were investigating in secret, so, this is just a plan to shock Kira into giving away some vital clue."
My mother turns to my plate again, and to escape her words, I stuff a mouthful into my mouth. She smiles at me, and I swallow, but it all tastes like lead. I grimace.
...
Four days later, I walk into my house, and immediately, the tension leaves my body. The cameras are gone, and the constant pain behind my eyes evaporates, like it was never there. I hadn't realized how much pain I was in, with my stiff posture and anxious vibes. I walk upstairs, and instead of going to straight for my room, I throw my bag at my bedroom door and walk into the bathroom. I shut the door behind me and lean heavily on the granite counter, the palms of my hands on the edge of the round bowl sink.
I haven't properly looked at myself in days. I look sick. There are slight circles under my eyes, and the blaring red eyes look sunken in and dull, while, at the same time, alive and wild. My hair is still shiny, though, so that's a plus. The bones on my wrists are starting to stick out, just barely noticeable. My sharp cheekbones are more prominent than ever before, and my lips are chapped and torn from my teeth biting into them at all hours. I really should eat more, but the murders and my father's constant absence has me worried, and so everything I eat makes me want to throw up. The cameras had me climbing the walls in fear. I don't know how many there were, or where, but I assumed they were placed strategically around the house so there were no blind spots at all. I just hope they didn't miss any when they were removed.
I blink, and, my upsetting thoughts, as well as the terribly depressing music that is playing, makes a few drops slide from my eyes. I haven't cried in years, but the relief of finally being alone after what feels like forever is just too much. I open the door to the bathroom and slip out, my head down. I scoop up my bag and slide quickly into my room, locking the door behind me. I then to sink to the floor without any more thoughts, and let myself release the pent-up emotion that has been building for nearly thirteen years. I'm silent, but my shoulders shake and my chest heaves, leaving me gasping for breath. I have forgotten what a break down like this feels like, and I love it and hate it all at once.
Little do I know, is that there were five cameras in my room still there, and one had a clear view of the door. In a hotel, several miles from here, L watched the whole thing play out in shocked, regretful, silence. I also don't notice when they're removed the next day, while I'm out.
...
Because of my break down, I feel much better all week long. It is like all of my problems had disappeared with the cameras. Not true, of course, but it is a nice thought. I keep on thinking it as I make my way into the To-Oh exam room, which is filled with other hopeful students and some adults who mingle and chat with each other. I ignore them all, taking my seat at the selected desk and listening to my music through one ear bud, the other hanging around my neck so I can hear the examiner when he tells us to begin.
We don't wait long. I turn off my music as soon as he tells us to begin, which is shortly after I take my seat, and I open up the test booklet and flip over my answer document. My eyes fall onto question one, and I take a deep breath, then mark the answer.
Barely twenty minutes pass before the examiner tells someone behind me to, "sit normally." What? I think in disbelief. What the fuck does that mean? I turn around to see who was causing the disturbance, and my eyes fall onto a disheveled young man-no older than myself, surely-who has his knees drawn up to his chest and his thumb in his mouth. He is clearly not Japanese; his wide eyed-gaze and rounded face tell me that. He has dark, messy hair that falls into his steel gray eyes and it practically defies gravity. He is wearing a white shirt and blue jeans, but no shoes. He's pretty, I suppose, in a child-like way. Curious, I look above his head, and nearly drop my pencil in shock.
I know immediately who this is. He's clearly very clever, throwing his real name around so carelessly and telling everyone it is an alias. This is L. I hadn't expected that to actually be his name, though. He probably has a sense of humor, one that is not easily caught by the average person. L Lawliet, I think, turning around, you're here for me, aren't you?
"Please, sir, if you don't start your test and sit normally, I will have to have you escorted out," the examiner tells L.
"I've already finished the test," L replies testily, his monotone voice carrying back to my seat. It's very soft, quiet, but has no emotion in it at all. There is a clear mask in place.
The examiners splutters, "There is no way you could have finished this exam in twenty minutes."
"Ah," L says, "But I did, clearly. Take a look, if you wish. But, if that means I have to leave, then I will."
By now, most of the other test takers are staring. The examiner looks miffed, but L seems entirely oblivious to the blatant attention. Flustered, the examiner takes the test from L's slack two-fingered hold and looks through it, scanning every answer. His disbelief is clear when he sets it down on the table. He raises his hands in defeat, and walks away. L smirks-a tiny, barely noticeable expression-at his retreating figure. Then L looks at me, and I look down quickly at my paper, my heart racing. I cannot meet his eyes.
It takes me another ten minutes to finish, and, aside from L, I'm the first one done. I stand, and everyone looks at me in disbelief as I walk up to the examiner and hand him the documents. I flash him a smile, then leave, picking up my belongings as I walk out the door. L doesn't follow me.
...
It is four months before anything of real significance happens. Not that there weren't any big events in my sister's world, oh no. She went on and on yesterday about Misa Amane, an up-and-rising model, appearing in her favorite magazine, and then, moving to Tokyo. Like I care, I kept thinking, while I practically did her math homework for her.
Kira keeps on killing, at random intervals, it seems like, and Misora has not been found. I am slightly concerned - it has been nearly half a year, and Kira has not been caught yet. He must be some sort of genius, covering his tracks and fooling L like this.
I lean my forehead on my desk, not having any real desire to leave the warming comfort of my room and talk to a bunch of stupid people who somehow made it into To-Oh. I stay there, seriously considering just taking off my suit and tie and just going to bed right now. It sounds really appealing, actually. My head is already beginning to pound at the thought of seeing all the bright red names and numbers, blocking out any of the students' faces and blinding me completely. Every time they move, I'll see it, and I really don't want to deal with that. God, there have to be near three hundred people at least…
My mother knocks on the door just as I reach for my tie, and I groan quietly into the wood of my desk, but lift my head anyway. "Almost ready, Raito?" she calls, sounding eager for the presentation.
"Yeah," I call back, opening my door. She beams at me, looking really proud in her black dress. Sayu is just behind her in a similar garment, her hair tied into a bun atop her head. My father, I know, is already in the car, in a suit similar to mine. They will be in the back of the crowd, listening to me go on and on about what great school year this will be, yada, yada, yada…
The drive there is quiet, thankfully, and my parents hadn't even noticed that I had snuck my music player with me. Sayu did, though she has her own with her, too, so if she values her life, she won't say anything about mine. My parents had specifically told us both to leave them at home, but I know Sayu couldn't care less about this whole thing, and I won't listen to anyone else speak. We need something to occupy us.
We are standing outside the entrance, after a few more minutes and my mother smiles at me one more time before she and rest of my family disappear into the crowd. Well, I think, looking around at the throngs of people and the falling peach petals, I'm finally in college. I would have been excited if not for the whole thing with Kira going on, and the pounding headache I have from the bright red letters - in kanji, and English, mostly - and the numbers constantly changing underneath them. I turn when a car pulls up behind me, and L himself steps out of the limousine. Well, then. Of course, he is the other representative. I would expect nothing less. The people start moving in, and I disappear inside with them before L can notice me.
I take my seat and slip my ear buds underneath my suit's collar, where it will not be seen. The device itself is in my suit's inner pocket. None other than L himself occupies the seat beside me, and I see he hadn't bothered to clean himself up for the event. The whole thing makes me laugh under my breath, because I know he will have to speak with me. I look around the room while the Principal of the school greets us all. The whole speech goes in one ear and out the other. They have several other students go up there, people I guess have been at this school a while. I spot about six different people with guns and I'm certain that there are more in the crowd, hidden as students for L's protection.
"And now, for the freshman address, representative Yagami Raito, and…" he frowns at the paper, "representative Hideki Ryuga." The name comes out more like a question, and the whole crowd falters their applause a little at the recognizable name. Nevertheless, both L and I ignore their reactions and step upstage.
L takes up the speech cards like they're poisonous, holding them delicately between his thumb and forefinger. I bet he hasn't washed his hands since the last time his thumbs were in his mouth, either. I try hard not think about it, picking up my own cards and reading the words written like I'm telling a story. I make sure to look at the crowd, even though every instinct I have is screaming for me to look away. L stands slightly behind me, reading the text at an impossible speed, over and over again. He's probably memorizing it so he can let the cards go as soon as possible.
But he doesn't. I finish my speech and we trade places. When it's his turn to read his speech, he reads it in a perfect monotone, never once looking up. He holds it the same way as before, and lets them fall back on the podium as soon as he's finished. He steps back next to me, and I notice his feet are bare. He still has no fucking shoes on. The principal's smile is slightly strained when he concludes our speaking part, and L scratches his ankle while he stands there, looking down, hands stuffed in his pockets. The principal repeats our names - well, my name, not L's, as I'm sure I am one of only maybe six people who know it - and we both step down. I'm really tempted to trip him for being such an asshole, but I know I would pay for it later.
I take my seat, and L perches in his – honestly, does he do anything normally? – and I am taking out my MP3 player when L leans in close to me. I look at him, wondering what the hell he wants, and whisper, "What?"
"Light?" he whispers back, "Light Yagami. Your father is Soichiro Yagami, Chief of the NPA. Your respect for you father is matched only by your strong sense of justice. You're planning on joining the police force when you graduate, and you've already got experience, as you've helped the police solve a number of cases in the past, and now, you're showing an interest in the Kira case. I'm impressed by your abilities and your sense of justice. If you promise not to tell anyone about this I have important information regarding the Kira investigation that I would like to share with you."
Not really interested, as I already have an idea of what he's going to tell me, but knowing he'd expect me to be curious, I answer, "I won't tell anyone. What is it?"
He looks at me more closely, and gets even closer. He whispers, like it's this big movie and he wants the crowd to wait, "I want to tell you, I'm L."
I really, really just want to whisper back, I know, but that would be really stupid. Instead I turn my head to face him more fully, looking over his shoulder slightly. "If you are who you say you are," I reply, "then you have nothing but my respect and admiration."
L doesn't blink, nor do his eyes reveal anything. I know he is curious as to why I'm not looking at him. "Thank you," is all he says. "The reason I chose to reveal my identity to you is because I believe you will be of some help to us on the Kira investigation." He puts his thumb to his mouth, and I can almost see the gears turning underneath that mop of black fuzz he calls hair.
I blink and look down. "I'll think about it," I mumble, and he looks away. I know he was testing me. I know I'm probably under suspicion, and Dad already knows who L is. I don't put my music on, and instead just wait out the rest of the ceremony. I know I won't remember anything but this tomorrow anyway.
Later, when the speeches are over and people are mingling, I step outside to take a breath of air. The sun is near the west, now, signaling it's around five pm. Right on time. I look around and duck behind a pillar, then take out the headache medication I had slipped into my pocket before I came here. I swallow it in one gulp and leave my hiding place, and run right into L. Just my luck.
"Hey, Light-kun," he says, "Nice meeting you." His tone is much friendlier now; more like a friend would talk to another friend they're not particularly close to.
Why does he call me Light, and not Raito? Is English his native language? It would make sense, since his name is in English. Is he from the United Kingdom, or the Unites States? "Oh no, the pleasure was mine," I reply, forcing a smile on my face. He blinks at me, and then walks away, and the limo pulls up in front of him. The driver gets out and opens the door for him.
"What an amazing car," I hear another student say.
I look at him, my face blank, and his friend continues, though not to me. "A limousine?" he questions.
L gets my attention again my mumbling, "Uh, well, I guess I'll see you on campus." He gets in the car.
I blink slowly and reply, "Yeah. Take care." He nods to me, and the door closes him inside.
The other students continue talking, and I can tell they are envious. "That kid must come from serious money," the first one says.
"Yeah, and he's at the top of the class? Where's the justice?"
Right under your fucking nose, I think, just as my parents and Sayu show up with smiles on their faces. L's car drives away.
...
Two days later, I'm sitting on a bench with a textbook and my notebook, reading things I already know and taking notes I took a few years ago. College is turning out to nothing special at all. It's just a more advanced version of high school with slightly smarter people. Of course, only L is on my level, and so far, he hasn't showed up yet. It's like he entered only to get a look at me, which would be no surprise.
The campus is beautiful. There is a long walkway made of gray bricks that weaves between the buildings and leads to doors that shield the different classes. The main walkway is the one I'm near now, and it's lined with benches every few feet. There are a lot of peach trees all over campus, and the bench I'm sitting on is right beneath one. The petals drift down into my hair and onto my textbook, but I don't really mind. Lots of others surround me, all of them between classes and mingling. Some people - mostly girls, looking for their Mrs., I'm sure - have approached me, but I just blew them off without actually saying, "Fuck you, leave me alone."
A shadow is suddenly blocking my sunlight, and I really just want to smack whoever it is with my book, right upside the head. That would send a message real quick. I look up, my fingers curling around the book to do just that, but I stop when I realize it's only L.
"Hello," he says. He's dressed the same as always, but he actually has shoes on this time. They are ratty old sneakers that have probably seen better days. They're covered with dirt, masking what had to have been a sparkly white several years ago, and the shoelaces are untied. I would say that I cannot believe it, but I actually can. They match his personality - seemingly uncaring, dirty, and weak, when underneath the dirt, he's most likely anything but.
"Hi," I respond. "You're blocking my light."
He blinks then moves to sit next to me - perch, rather - and his shoes are left on the ground at his feet while he curls himself into a crouch beside me. "How would you feel about a friendly game of tennis?" he asks. "To get to know one another."
I'm not entirely sure what you can determine from a game of tennis other than if the other person is very good or not and whether or not the opponent plays dirty, but I agree anyway. He nods and slips his shoes back on after he stands up. I pack my things into my bag, and we walk in silence to the tennis court. There aren't any other people there, but of course, we haven't gotten permission to use the court, either, and I doubt anyone else did.
Both of us ignore this detail and change into sports wear in the men's locker room. It is deserted aside from the both of us, but that is to be expected, of course. It's clean, at least, unlike both my high school and elementary school locker rooms, both of which had dirt in the corners, bad paint jobs, and the occasional bug crawling through the lockers and showers. This room has none of that. It's a crisp white color, and the lockers are actually a good size. I find my gym wear in my bag and L does the same. Neither of us bothers with changing in the showers-we just change in the middle of the room then walk out.
The supplies to play tennis are just outside, on the edge of the court, on the inside of the high gates. L stands there, next to me, staring at me curiously while I bend to get the rackets. When I grab a racket for myself, I thrust one in his general direction without actually looking up. "Ow," he mutters, and I look up to see him rubbing a spot on his arm. I mutter an apology and shove the rackets around some more, looking for a tennis ball. Of course they're all at the bottom of the damn crate.
"I must admit," I say, straightening, "I'm surprised at you, Ryuga-kun. I never though you'd ask me to play tennis as a way to get to know each other."
He doesn't blink. "Is it a problem for you?" he questions.
I shake my head, handing him the ball. "Not at all. But, when you asked me to play, did you know how good I was?" I glance at him from the corner of my eye as I being to walk to my side of the court. He jogs a little to catch up to me.
"Yes, I'll be fine though," he replies. "It's been a while, but at one time I was actually the British Junior Champion."
"Ryuga-kun, were you raised in the UK?" I ask.
"I lived in the UK for a while when I was younger," he says, "but save your breath, nothing in that story would reveal L's true identity, I promise you." I don't need to look, I think sourly, glancing upward at the ever-present L Lawliet above his head. I knew he would probably say something hinting to my being Kira. "Since it's our first match, why don't we play a single set?" he suggests. "First one to six?"
He bounces the ball on the ground, getting ready to serve. "Fine by me," I tell him, the whack of the ball signaling it coming in my direction. It soars right passed me, and I blink for a moment before stand up straight again. "Whoa, Ryuga-kun," I say, "You sure don't mess around."
"He who strikes first wins!" he replies, and I hit the ball right back at him.
This goes on for a while. Neither of us misses, and it goes back and forth over the net for quite some time. Eventually, a crowd of students comes to watch us play. They surround the cage, pointing and whispering in amazement. "Are these two really amateurs?" one asks, fixated on the ball. "Who are they, anyway?"
His friend replies, "I think they're Yagami Ratio and Hideki Ryuga. These are the same two guys who scored perfect on the exam."
We play for a few more minutes. I'm getting slightly tired, now, and I know it has to end. I also know that whatever I do, it'll raise the Kira suspicion on me, so…
I whack the ball, hard, to the opposite side of the court that L is on. He runs very quickly, but doesn't quite make it. It lands at his feet just as he tries to hit it with the racket. He stands and looks at me while the crowd cheers. A man says, "That's four games in all, Yagami Raito for the serve." I blink and look over. When the hell did they set up an umpire? Never mind, I think, as I serve the ball.
A boy comes running down the stairs, panting, to meet his friends-the same ones who were talking behind me before. "You won't believe this," he tells them. "I thought I'd heard the name Yagami Raito before, and so I checked. He was the youngest 02-03 Junior Tennis Champion. Apparently, during the third year award ceremony, he announced that he was hanging up his racket. I guess he hasn't played competitively since then."
A girl says, "Hey, hey, hey, don't tell me you haven't noticed Ryuga holding his own against this former Junior High Champion."
I tune out after that. L's got this really intense look on his face, and I know he's thinking somewhere along the lines of… "If Light were Kira…"
The only thing I can think of is going to the Task Force HQ because I know I'd want a conformation that L is L if I didn't already know for certain. I'd want a third party to say that he's L, someone I trust. Thus - the Task Force.
I blink and the ball comes soaring at me. As in all things, I think to myself, one cannot win with defense alone - to win, you have to attack. I run up to hit it, and the clank of the ball hitting the metal net of the racket echoes throughout the court. L rushes to get it, but falls short, and the ball bounces off behind him. He turns to me, face blank, and I grin at him.
We hang up our supplies and get changed. The crowd has mostly dispersed by the time we leave the courts. I scoop up my bag and walk alongside L, down the main stone pass between the peach trees. "Just as I expected," L mutters. "You beat me."
"It's been a while since I've had to play that hard," I confess. I glance at him, and just as he lifts his head to meet my gaze, I look away to the front. "I'm feeling kinda thirsty. Plus, there's something I wanted to ask you about." I watch as the shadows fall over us both when we walk under a tree. "You wanna go somewhere for a drink?"
L doesn't miss a beat, "You humored me with a tennis match," he says. "The least I can do is answer some of your questions. But before this conversation goes any further there is something I must tell you."
I glance up, and our gazes meet for the first time since we've met, even if it is only for a second before I look downward slightly. His eyes are darker than I thought, and in that brief moment, I saw my red eyes flash back at me. My heart is racing. "What's that?" I question, glad that my voice betrays nothing.
"I suspect that you, Light Yagami, are in fact, Kira." This I knew. "Now," he continues, "If you still want to ask me something, then please, go ahead."
I stop walking, and L continues on for a moment before he realizes this. Then he turns around, a question in his eyes and all over his face. But I merely let out a breathy laugh, before asking, "You think I'm Kira?"
"Well," he confesses, "When I say I suspect you, it's only a one percent possibility." One percent my ass, I think. "That aside, I don't mind telling you that once I'm sure you aren't Kira, and I can verify that you deductive skills are as strong as I think they are, I'd like nothing more than to have you work with me on this investigation." He turns around, apparently done with his little speech. He begins to walk away, and I wait a minute before following. One percent, huh? He is such a liar. I'm sure it's more like 89% or something of the like. No matter, with that he can still prevent me from meeting that Task Force and catching the real Kira.
Kira has caused me so much trouble lately - both emotionally and environmentally, and I would like nothing more than to see him on the electric chair.
...
We walk down the street, away from To-Oh. We don't go far, because L steers me into a coffee shop that I'm very familiar with. I'm surprised he picked it, but I have no complaints. I come here often when I need to think, away from the often closed-off environment that is my bedroom.
The bell dings above us when we walk in, and the woman behind the counter, Yushi, smiles and waves to me. I grin back at her, and grab L's elbow lightly. I lead him to a small booth in the corner. Fake plants surround it, but the plants in the shop accompany most booths. There is a window above them, but it is high enough so that outsiders won't see us. The booth itself is placed in a way where we can hear everything around us, but they can't hear us.
I tell him all of this, and add of jokingly, "Not to mention it's so closed off no one will give you a hard time about the way you sit."
He speaks around his thumb, "I don't sit like this because I want to; I have to sit like this. You see; if I were to sit normally, my deductive reasoning abilities are automatically reduced by roughly forty percent." He cuts himself off when the coffee arrives, and I thank the waitress. L, on the other hand, takes the cream from the bowl and opens them one by one, dumping them all into the coffee. I blink, astounded. I've never seen anyone put so much cream into coffee - or any other drink, for that matter. But something tells me this is normal for him. "So what was it you wanted to ask me?" he prompts when I keep staring for about a minute.
I look up, and then reach for my coffee, saying, "Right. I'm sure that can wait until you're convinced that I'm not Kira. So, please," I invite, closing my eyes as I take a sip of my coffee, "let's talk about whatever you want to."
L stares at me the whole time, unmoving, unblinking. If I didn't get used to things so quickly, I would have been very unnerved by now. "You are under no obligation to do this, but would you mind submitting yourself to a test of your deductive reasoning skills?" Straight to the point, then.
"Sure, why not?" You'll submit me to it anyway, I think, placing my cup on the saucer. "Sounds like fun."
L starts digging around in his pockets, then pulls out a couple of sheets of paper and places them on the table. "Alright then. We can begin by taking a look at these," he says, and shoves the papers towards me.
I look at the papers, and recognize them almost immediately. These are the photographs of three notes that were written from Kira's victims just before they died in jail. "Photographs of three notes written by prison inmates while under Kira's control just prior to their deaths. None of this information has been made public." Of course not. "You can take as long as you need to look them over, please, tell me what you think."
I reach over and drag the cards to the edge of the table so I can get a grip on them, then I bring them up to my face. I know that I'm hiding my eyes, so, for a moment, I let them flash red. It relieves some of my now-constant headache, since I'm always in danger with L around, and there is no escaping him.
I take a good look at all of the photographs, and figure it out almost immediately. There is a print number on the back of the photographs. If I ignored it, and still came up with, 'L, do you know, Gods of Death love apples?' what would that mean? Clearly, if I read it the way Kira intended on my first attempt, I would only look more suspicious.
I just wish L would believe me and look elsewhere for Kira.
Nevertheless, the code from the photographs isn't enough to tell L that I am Kira-it just shows that I have good deductive reasoning abilities. "It would be quite amazing to learn that Kira could not only kill others, but could also control his victims before their deaths - I think, based on that, Kira had the victims write these, and send a direct message to you. It's like he's mocking you…" I trail off and lay the cards on the table, still staring at them. Then I point out the message, still thinking over my idea. I tell L about the Gods of Death, and how, if you line up the cards, it tells that message. Then, I point out the card numbers, and rearrange the cards to spell out, 'L, do you know, love apples Gods of Death.' "That doesn't sound right, so it's hard to believe Kira would want you to read it that way."
If Kira could control his victims, does that mean he killed Osoreda? I blink, and, as L leans forward to take the cards, I grab them and look them over once more. I find nothing, though, to support that idea. Nevertheless… "L, you don't suppose Kira can kill in other ways than a heart attack?"
L, for a moment, looks stunned. "What? How did you come to that conclusion?"
I stare at the cards still, nervous about revealing my idea. "Well, on December 9th last year, there was a bus hijacking. I was on that bus - and you can verify this with my parents and Sayu, as well as the other passengers - I was there to go to the store to get ingredients for dinner. The bus was hijacked by a criminal that was broadcasted a couple of days before that. He was called Osoreda, and he had failed to rob a bank and he shot three people during his escape. If Kira can control his victims before their death, what if he controlled Osoreda when he was hijacking the bus, and then killed him by having him be hit by a car? Because that's how he died - he jumped off the bus when it was stopped, stumbled, and a car crashed into his head. If that was Kira's doing - then it was an experiment, and that's how he knew he could do something public like this," I'm rambling slightly, I know. I gesture to the cards when I say the last sentence, to prove my point.
L doesn't say anything at all. He just stares at me, as if he couldn't believe what I just said. Then it hits me - "And I bet Naomi Misora came to a similar conclusion that I just did, and that's why she's missing. Kira killed her in a place where she would never be found." There, mystery solved.
He stares at me for a long time, and I eventually do get very nervous. "Well?" I prompt.
"I will have to look into that, Light. That is a brilliant conclusion, one I can't believe I didn't think of before." I grin slightly, pleased with the praise. "We were looking into the disappearance of Miss Misora just recently, actually, and we did reach the possibility that she was killed by Kira."
He tilts his head to one side. "However, addressing the photos - you were incorrect."
What? No I wasn't. There is no other way to read the cards, and I looked over them three times. Seeing my confusion, L pulls out a forth card from his pocket and lays it on the pile. "The thing is, there were actually four photographs, and when we add this one, it reads, 'L, do you know, Gods of Death who love apples have red hands.'"
I look up at L, then down to the cards. Why hadn't I seen that? "That may be," I concede, "However, I had only three cards to work with, so my deduction was perfect." And it was, I know that. There is no way it could be anything else.
"No," L says patiently, "it wasn't. The truth is, there were four of them. If you'd figured that out, it would have been perfect. Even though you knew the message was incomplete, you decided that there were only three notes. You never even considered that there might be a forth. What do you make of that?"
Damn. Sometimes, I wonder if the gods who gave me these eyes really hate me. I keep on falling into L's hands, and at this rate, I'll never meet the Task Force. "Ah, well, you got me there," I tell him, knowing it's the truth. Nevertheless, it stings my pride to say so. "Still, the chances of this leading you to Kira is not very great. Besides," I add for effect - I'm just straight up lying to him now - "we all know Gods of Death don't exist."
"If you were me, faced with someone who might be Kira, how would you go about establishing this person's innocence or guilt? You have to be absolutely sure."
"I would get him to say something that was never made public in any way," I say around my cup. "Something only Kira would know. Kind of what you were doing just now."
He blinks. "Truly amazing. What's incredible is that I've asked several detectives that same question and it took most of them minutes to even come up with an answer." Really? That doesn't surprise me, somehow. A lot of people are really quite stupid compared to you and I, L. "But you, you immediately thought of the scenario in which Kira is speaking directly to the investigator. I'm impressed. You'll make a fine detective, Light-kun."
"A double edged sword, though, isn't it? The more impressive my answers, the more of a suspect I am," I mumble sadly. He heard me, though.
"Yes, though, because of your idea concerning Kira's method of killing, it's only at about 1.8 percent. I am also that much more determined to work with you on the investigation. You see, I am in a position where, if you were Kira, it would still be to my benefit to have you working alongside us."
"So, you want me to cooperate to allow the investigation to move forward, and if I'm Kira, I might reveal myself. So weather I'm Kira or not, you stand to gain either way. It's a very smart move on your part. But, I think you might be getting the wrong idea. While it's true I do have an interest in the Kira case, and yes, detective work is a hobby of mine, I know that I'm not Kira, and I certainly don't want to be killed by him. Besides," I add, again for effect, "what proof have you given me that you yourself aren't Kira? I mean it hardly seems fair for just one of us to be investigated, don't you say? At this point, neither of us can prove that we're not Kira, however, if you are in fact L, I don't imagine it would be that hard for you to prove it to me. I think I would be convinced if, say, my father or someone else from the Task Force Headquarters was able to confirm your identity. If you can't do that, then I'm afraid I just won't be able to help you."
"I don't remember saying that you couldn't meet anyone from Task Force Headquarters to verify my identity. I am currently working alongside you father as well as several other detectives from the NPA. Now, if I understand you correctly and I take you to Task Force Headquarters, you will help us with the investigation."
Score, I think smugly. Now that I'm into the investigation, I can lead them in the right direction. I've already given L one clue, and I bet it's one he'll ponder over all night. L reaches into his back pocket and pulls out his phone as it starts to ring. "Excuse me," he says, opening it and holding it to his ear. "Yes?"
My phone goes off moments later. I look at it, mumbling, "And there goes mine."
My mother's voice sounds on the end of the line. She sounds terribly distressed, and I wonder what's going on. "Raito," she tells me, "You father has had a heart attack!"
I look up and I find that L is looking at me, and he says, "Light-kun, your father has…"
I cut him off. "A heart attack."