Only a couple of days later, the Task Force and L released the videotape that indicated their refusal to cooperate with Kira.
"I can only say that it's a shame that the answer is no. It's clear that the police wish to oppose me. This will not go unpunished. So, I will start by taking the lives of the Director General of the NPA or the detective known as L, who is currently leading the investigation against me. The Director General, or L? Who will be the price for your refusal in the cooperation to create a peaceful world? You have four days to decide."
I watch all of this from my bedroom, my eyes blazing red and fixated on the television. I know I have to get onto the Task Force before Kira gets to L. I have to keep track of Kira - I can't let anyone die.
I also have to keep track of this Second Kira. I know that this isn't the real Kira - he isn't ever this bold or direct. I can tell by the way his moves are always through action only that he doesn't prefer direct contact. However, this Kira is the opposite. So far, they have made their views public, and have communicated with L through speaking. Not only that, but Kira doesn't bother with lowly criminals-petty thieves or small-town man slaughterers. No, he goes for the big guys - rapists and serial killers or mass murderers. Kira has no need to prove to anyone that he is who he says he is by using insignificant criminals. The Second Kira had to go for small criminals who he knew wouldn't die by the Real Kira's hand. I'll say its roughly 75% chance that this Kira isn't real. If L can get his hands on this fool…
He'd win the case.
I just wish I could get onto the Task Force. I know that most of these killings are supernatural, things that are out of the ordinary that aren't proven by facts, which are what L relies on mainly. But I know all too well that magic and ghosts and some sort of Gods exist - they have to for this case to be possible. I know that I, given the opportunity, would look at every possible answer, scientific or not. L won't, considering his-more than 90% likely-atheism, and cold, clean mind.
...
I did not sleep last night. I'm still sitting here by my window with my headphones in my ears and a mystery book on my lap called The Thirteenth Tale. An American author wrote it, but I just ordered it online one week and am now reading it for the seventeenth time. The sun is coming up over the mountains and buildings, creating a light-hearted atmosphere that reflects my neighborhood, and I can't help but feel at ease. It makes the shadows seem more open - the ones that appear during the day always are. The ones at night are the ones to be afraid of. Or, rather, what's inside the shadows.
The oranges and reds streak across the sky, and they hurt my eyes, but I don't look away. This is the first time I've actually stayed up all night, and I don't feel tired. It's very strange. I look to my right, at the crevice in my bookshelf where my book should be, then close said book and shove it in the hole. Then I turn to my left, eyeing my desk, which, unusually, is messy. My homework is all over the desk, with crooked papers and my pen holder was knocked over sometime in my pacing the night before. I sigh.
My fingers itch to go and clean it up, but I don't move. I stare out the window instead, watching people's shades through their windows as they prepare for their day. I had no idea so many other people were up at sunrise. Or rather, 5.10 in the morning. Dear God, I think, staring at the numbers. My alarm clock doesn't ring for another fifty minutes, and I know I won't really do anything productive with the time. I close my eyes and shut my curtains, blocking a good deal of the sunlight.
I open my eyes, knowing that they're my natural crimson, and lay out some clothes for the day - my nicest set of jeans, and a white button down shirt. I stare at them for a minute, imagining a person wearing them, and what they would look like to an outsider, with the red eyes and all. I block the image from my mind.
Jaw tight, I step out of my room into the dark hallway, and walk over to the linen closet, from which I grab a towel and washcloth. My sister doesn't get up until six-thirty, and my mother won't wake until five-forty, so everything is dark and unwelcoming. I walk into the bathroom and shut the door behind me. The small window above the toilet allows a bit of light in the small room - just enough for me to see without assistance from the light bulbs.
Half numb, I reach over and turn on the water, hearing it hit the bottom of the tub as if through a wall. I rest my towel on the top of the toilet and rest the washcloth on the bar that holds up the shower curtain, which I also close as a second thought. It slides along the metal with a sharp zing and the curtain's blank white picture unfolds.
I strip and step under the hot water, feeling all of my muscles relax under the spray. I really shouldn't have such morbid thoughts so early in the morning, but I can't help it.
...
After my shower finds me sitting on the edge of my bed, staring at my closed closet doors with red eyes that haven't gone away all morning. Not that I've tried. I prefer to allow myself to relax. My mother had woken just after I finished my shower - she had caught me in my towel in the hallway. To avoid questions, I had ducked my head and disappeared very quickly into my room, but I am sure she believes that I was embarrassed. It's partly the truth, anyway. I don't want my mother seeing me in a towel.
Because of that, I did not go downstairs for breakfast, which I am now regretting. I stand up and walk over to my closet, opening it and bringing my jacket off of the hook. I pull it on over my clothes and grab my MP3 Player from my desk, which I had organized a little while after my shower. I stick the ear buds into my ears and go to turn on the device, but am stopped by my phone ringing.
I roll my eyes and pick it up off of my bed. I take a quick glance at the caller ID - blocked number. L's calling, then.
"Hai?" I say into the phone, pulling one ear bud out and replacing it with my flip phone. I stuff my music player into my jacket pocket and grab my wallet from my bedside table. I pause on opening my door when my father's voice comes through, rather than L's.
"Raito," he says, and I sit down on my bed, "Ryuuzaki has decided that he would like for you to help with the investigation. If you're still interested, then you need to come here right away."
"Okay, Dad," I reply, and the line goes dead on his side. I shut my phone gently, then place it in my pocket and replace my ear bud. I turn on my music and walk out my bedroom door, down the hall and down the stairs. My mother and sister don't see me when I walk out the door. I feel my eyes turn amber again.
Thankfully, L pulled the stick out of his ass and invited me onto the team. About time, considering I have dropped hints that I would like to help him all along. He's just too suspicious, with his percentages and other nonsense. I do the same thing, though, so it's not like I can talk.
I make my way across the street into the more populated area of my neighborhood, where all the stores and heavily used roads are. People ignore me as usual, so I meet no trouble when I sit at the bus stop.
I truly wish I can be of some use to L in finding Kira and sending his ass, as well as the Second Kira's ass, too, to the execution table. I need to find the Second Kira quickly, before he can get to any of the Task Force members. I'll also have more information on the case, so I can see if I can figure out how they kill, since I am well educated when it comes to the supernatural aspects of this thing. Unless it really is a god, in which case there is nothing we can do, but I doubt it; the possibility is less than .02 percent.
The bus comes and I get on, reading the driver the address to the hotel they're staying at that Dad texted me after the call ended. The driver nods and my eyes flash to his lifespan and name - this guy will die later on today. A car accident, maybe.
I sit in the back of the bus and rest my forehead on the glass window beside me, unable to think of anything other than the last time I was on the bus. I can still hear the man crying out as the car hits him, sometimes, and, of course, my thoughts turn to Raye Penber.
I'm jostled out of my thoughts when I catch sight of the hotel the Task Force occupies. The bus driver pulls to a stop and I hand him the correct amount of change after leaving my seat, quicker than I thought I could. I'm off of the bus before he can thank me.
Crossing the street is easy, and so is getting into the hotel and up to L's floor. The hard part comes in when I realize the numbers on the doors have no set pattern I can see right off the bat. I don't really care to find out what it is, but my mind figures it out anyway-all the odd numbers are on this floor, and every time there is an even number as one of the numbers that make up the final two-digit number, they place it on the left side of the hall facing west.
Annoying, but I'm sure it was just something done by the construction workers as a joke.
L and the Task Force are in room 79, all the way at the other end of the hall. Of course, I think, can't have L right next to the elevator. I go down the hallway, and after two minutes of walking, I reach his door and knock quietly.
My father opens the door quickly enough and I smile at him, noticing that his lifespan has decreased in the right amount of time since I saw him last. He sighs when I make no move to look anywhere other than his lifespan, though he doesn't know that's what I'm looking at. He steps to the side and I walk into the room. "This is my son, Raito," he says.
The room is very plain, with cream-colored walls and two windows. Sunlight filters in through them, and the rays shower everything with a bright, red-orange-yellow light that creates shadows in every crevice. There is a table with a television placed directly between them, with two chairs facing it. To the right, there is a bed that looks unused, which doesn't surprise me at all. On the left is a small seating area, complete with a couch, a loveseat, two chairs, and a coffee table in the center. The coffee table is littered with sweets, and I can see L perched in the chair facing the left wall, scanning all of the food. He looks up when my father announces me, and then he stands, making his way over to me.
When he's directly in front of me and we shake hands, I stare at the name L Lawliet flashing above his head. The sunlight makes it very hard to read, and the letters seem to fade. "Thank you, Light," he tells me, trying to catch my eye. I refuse, and he eventually gives up.
"Not at all," I reply, smiling, "After all, I want to catch Kira as much as you do, Ryuga-kun."
"I'll have to ask that you call me Ryuuzaki here," he reminds me.
"I'm Matsui," someone says behind me. I turn slightly, and see he is lying. Touta Matsuda flashes in bright red above his mop of dark hair and friendly face. The man next to him, I see, is called Shuichi Aizawa, who is quite tall, with a stern face that is slightly off-put by his large Afro hairstyle. Beside Aizawa, is another tall man with an overall quiet vibe, and I can see his name is Kanzo Mogi.
"I'm Aihata," Aizawa informs me.
Mogi does the same, "And I'm Ahsahi."
Aliases, all of them. L really doesn't trust me, does he? I wonder sadly.
"Yes, of course," I say instead, turning to L, "Then I suppose I should call myself Raito Asashi?" I question.
"Yes, please do," L replies. "To keep things simple from now on, I'll call you Light-kun." Like you didn't already, I think to myself, frowning inwardly. "Okay, let's get down to work. You can start by looking over all of the information we've collected." He starts to walk away, and after a moment, I follow. "I'd also like you to examine these videos; they were sent to the TV station but were never aired." He gestures to a seat in front of the television and I sit down, still staring at him. "For security reasons you are not permitted to take notes, and all materials must remain here."
"I understand," I tell him.
"We will begin now," L says loudly, and starts the tapes. I find it odd, but unsurprising, that no one bothers to explain. It's clearly a test.
They're very interesting, but they mostly prove things I already knew from watching the live broadcast. There is a Second Kira, and this Kira wants only to get the original's attention first. The Second Kira can kill with only a face.
L comes up next to me, finger in his mouth, and speaks around it, "So, what do you think of this, Light? Have you come to any conclusions?"
I knew it - it is a test. I stand up and face him, looking at the TV. "It's hard to say for sure, but there might be another person out there with Kira's power," I tell him, knowing it's the truth, and lying when I say it's hard to tell. Anyone with a brain and observation skills could tell this Kira isn't real.
My father jumps onto that, and I can tell there is a hopeful lit to his tone of voice. "With Kira's power?" he questions, "But what do you mean by that, Raito?"
I turn to him, and stare out the window behind him, at the setting sun. I jerk my thumb at the TV screen and explain, "At the very least, I'd say this tape was not created by the Kira we're familiar with." I lower my hand to my side. "It's extremely out of character for him to use these kinds of victims for his killings. And, since we've established that he needs a face and a name to kill, it makes you wonder how he was able to kill that detective and those two officers right outside the television station like that."
"It - it's the same," Aizawa says in awe.
"That's almost exactly how L - I mean, Ryuuzaki said it," Matsuda agrees. I glance towards my father from the corner of my eye and see his elated expression. Looks like I gave the right answer, then.
"I think you're exactly right about that," L says, and I look in his direction, staring at the now clear name above his head. "We also believe that this is the work of a Second Kira."
"So you knew about this all along, Ryuga - oh, sorry, Ryuuzaki," I ask childishly, crossing my arms. "So that means this was just another one of your tests?"
"It wasn't my intention to test you," L claims, and I think stubbornly, bullshit. "The truth is, if I was the only one who thought there was a Second Kira, it wouldn't be too convincing." Which is true, I suppose. L may be able to start or stop a war with a few words, but really, no one knows him, and people are starting to lose their faith in his abilities. A shame, really, but it just goes to show how stupid society can be, never focusing on the big picture. "But that fact that we both came to the same conclusion just makes the theory that much more believable. As expected, you did not disappoint us. You've been a great help." He lowers his head a little, then declares, "It's decided. First we must focus on stopping this copycat. From what we've seen, he sympathizes with the real Kira but clearly lacks his sophistication. I think he might even be willing to obey the original. If so, we could lure him into a trap by sending our own message from the real Kira," he finishes quietly.
"I guess I shouldn't be surprised," I say. "You literally took the words right out of my mouth." It's a great idea, I finish in my head.
"Oh and, Light," L adds, "I'd like you to play the part of the real Kira."
I feel my eyes widen, and the heat begins to build behind my eyes. I force it back. "Huh?" I question. "Me, as Kira?"
"Yes, you're the only one I can think of who would be able to pull something like this off. At any rate, we don't have time to waste. Do you think you could script a message from Kira in time for it to be aired on this evening's national news?"
I nod. "Yeah," I agree. "Absolutely."
...
Hours later, my head is pounding and my heart is racing. I hate doing this. I really, really do. I don't want to play the part of Kira. Still, when L comes in and looks at me curiously, I wave him over and add a final touch to the script. "Ryuuzaki, does this look okay?" I ask, masking my hesitance with a confidence I don't feel. "I think I managed to make it believable."
L is holding the paper to his face in that weird, two-fingered hold of his. After a moment, he lets out a little hum, then, "I think you've done an excellent job with this. However, if we don't omit the part that says, 'You're free to kill L' I'm going to end up dead," he finishes, looking at me over the top of the paper, half amused, half upset.
I laugh, unable to help it, as some of the weight falls off of my shoulders with his approval. "Sorry," I apologize, "I guess I got carried away playing the part. I figured if I were him I'd demand that you'd be killed." I lean back in my chair, folding my hands behind my head, and I say, "I was improvising. Feel free to change it to whatever you like."
"Sounds good," he agrees.
...
"Okay Aihata," L says later, when we're all in the hotel room again. "The script is ready, I'll leave it to you."
"Alright," Aizawa responds, and turns on the news channel. The screen flashes bright colors into the room, which had been previously lit only by the yellow-orange glow of shaded lamps on the tables and L's laptop screen. I blink in the brightness, but focus on the screen. I hope I'll be able to stay awake during it-the pain in my head is so intense I can barely think, and my anxiety isn't helping matters at all.
"And now, a shocking announcement," the reporter says loudly. "In response to the frightening Kira video aired on Sakura TV, only a few days ago, an anonymous individual has contacted us claiming to be the real Kira. In short, he has demanded of this network, as well as several others, that we air the message you are now about to see. I would also like to mention that the NPA has granted us permission to air this video. Is this the real Kira? No one knows for sure. But we can only hope this video will provide us with some much needed answers."
"I am Kira," the clip announces in a synthetic voice. The font is different, as well as the background-both are much more elaborate than the original video clips sent by the Second Kira. "The true Kira. The one who was broadcast on Sakura TV is a pretender; a fake. The purpose of the message is to communicate my will to this imposter. I have chosen to be lenient with him for the time being, only because I believe he wishes to cooperate with me in the creation of the new world. But, I want to make it absolutely clear that the taking of innocent lives is against my will. If this person claiming to me is sympathetic to my cause and wishes to be of some help, I ask two things of him: that he refrain from killing aimlessly and that he agree to abide by my basic principals."
I close my eyes briefly, not listening to the end of the speech. I know it all anyway, as I wrote it. It scarcely matters to me.
...
A beeping noise from L's laptop wakes me from my moment of near-unconsciousness, and I open my eyes and force myself to sit up. A blank screen with the letter W is what meets my eyes. "Ryuuzaki, we have a reply from the Second Kira," Watari informs us.
"What?" I hear someone say, and I stand quickly, right next to L.
"Really?" Matsuda asks eagerly.
"I'll be bringing over the envelope and tape we have received, but in the meantime I'm streaming a copy of the video so that you can view it on your end," Watari says. We all crowd around the computer, and L perches himself in the chair directly in front of it while the rest of us stand around it. The screen goes back to the Second Kira's original font and background design.
"Kira, thank you for your reply. Please do not worry, I will follow orders and do as you say."
"Whoa," Matsuda breathes. "It worked."
"I really want to meet you." There was a pause, then, "I don't think you have the Eyes," and I swear, my heart stops beating. I can feel my hands start to shake – what does he mean? If it is what I think it is, and he has the same ability I do, then we're in more trouble than I thought. My breath picks up and I can barely see. "But you don't have to worry, I would never try to kill you." As if that's a reassurance, I think sourly, my eyes fixated on the screen. Most of my effort is going towards fighting back my natural red eyes, and I can feel myself losing the battle. "That's a promise."
"What's this 'having the Eyes' supposed to mean? Is it a code?" someone wonders aloud. From the faint ringing in my ears, I cannot distinguish their voice.
"Yeah," another person says.
Meanwhile, L has not moved from his place, also frozen in shock and maybe fear. The voice becomes muffled, and I can only make out the last part. "…You'll think of something," is what it says. "When we meet, we can confirm out identities to one another by showing our Shinigami to each other." L sucks in a sharp breath, and I don't blame him. This is proof - I have the same ability that the Second Kira does. He shoots backward in his seat with a cry, and his hands go up into the air as he screams. Everyone stiffens while I am finally able to force back the color of my eyes and look at L. He looks terrified, and I don't blame him. I think I'm going to black out soon. L's chair falls over and I have an insane urge to laugh when he goes down with it, the screen going black.
"Ryuuzaki!" Aizawa - maybe? - calls urgently. Everyone rushes over to him, and I take the moment to try and control my breathing. I start to calm down, but only slightly. I regain feeling in my legs, and I can feel the light headedness disappear. "Are you alright?"
L ignores them and sits up again, hair in more of a mess than usual, and asks in a weak voice, "Sh-shinigami?" He pauses, then continues, "Am I supposed to believe that? That Shinigami actually exist?"
"That's impossible!" someone says. Matsuda, I believe. My breath is starting to come back to me now, but my thoughts are a whirlwind. I can't think-but I almost have this case solved. If only there was proof-
"Obviously they don't exist," Aizawa says sternly.
To keep up appearances, I take a small breath and say, "Yes, that's right Ryuuzaki. Listen to yourself, of course Shinigami don't exist!" I wonder, when L turns to look at me, still afraid, sweat dripping from his hairline, if he can tell I'm lying to him.
He takes a breath, "You're probably right, but I remember that Kira had those prisoners write something suggesting the existence of Shinigami."
Soichiro takes a step forward, concerned. "So based on that fact," he mutters quietly, "perhaps we're dealing with the same person after all. That would definitely explain why we're hearing the same words."
I look at him, briefly wondering how the hell my father can be so stupid when I am such a genius. Where did my intelligence come from? "I don't think so," I tell him, and he looks at me, "because if this was the same person, it's highly unlikely he would've responded to our video in the first place. And why would he agree to let L live, after going through all the trouble of getting him to appear on TV? The real Kira wants him dead. So, it doesn't make sense," I finish.
"So maybe there's some other connection between the real one and this new guy. They could've already met and used the word Shinigami as a way to confuse us," Aizawa points out. At least someone isn't a total ditz, I think, my mind and body finally completely under control again. Still, it isn't the right answer.
"No, I'd say that's unlikely," L says suddenly, and everyone turns to him. He is removing his hand from the bridge of his nose. He stands and brushes himself off for a moment before lifting the chair up and continuing, "It's as Light-kun says," he climbs into the chair, "if the two Kiras were connected, I don't think the imposter would be so willing to give up on his plan to kill me. All of this suggests to me that the copycat has his own agenda and is acting independently of the first." He leans forward just a bit, like he's telling us some big secret. "I believe his actual motivation is to meet the original."
"…I think you're right," I say slowly, "He's acting out of an interest of Kira." I cross my arms across my chest. "The word Shinigami could very well be some reference to their killing power." I am almost talking to myself, but I direct my words to L, who is sitting - perching, rather - quietly and hanging onto my every word. He's probably waiting for a slip-up that will never come. "Saying we can confirm our identities by showing our Shinigami to each other probably means that they confirm their identities by somehow confirming their ability to kill."
L stares at me for a moment, not giving anything away. Then he says, "Yes, that's it. Based on their messages, we can assume the word Shinigami must hold some other meaning that only the real Kira and the Second Kira are aware of. Now, we just need to convince this copycat to tell us what it is."
"So, when you respond and force him to be more specific," I say quickly, "we have to be careful how we handle this. We can't make it too obvious that we're asking, otherwise, he'll realize, we're not Kira."
"No," L replies. "From now on, it's best that we leave it up to the two Kiras." Everyone around me, including myself, suck in a breath. What's he thinking? If we leave Kira and his copycat to their own devices, they'll get together after the real Kira responds to the Second Kira and the mass murder will be monumental."
"What do you mean?" Aizawa asks, taking one step forward.
"I imagine that the Second Kira is probably quite satisfied with the current situation, now that he's received a televised response. He sent a message to get Kira's attention and as far as he knows, he now has it. Also, there's that word he used, the one only the two of them would understand. We'll arrange to have this reply broadcasted tonight on Sakura TV's news. Naturally, this would be of interest to Kira, and he'll be following this exchange between the copycat and the one we've invented. Now, if I were Kira himself, my priority would be to prevent this information from coming into contact with the police. This is good for us, because it means that the real Kira might feel pressured to respond this time." Damn, I think, L sure can talk. Though, I'm fairly certain that this is mostly for the benefit of the other members of the Task Force, I cannot help but feel faintly annoyed that he explains every last detail. Nevertheless, we would be slowed down if they didn't understand.
"Okay," Aizawa says, leaning forward even more. "But let's say he doesn't respond? Then what do we do?"
L taps his finger on his knee, contemplating-probably how to say his answer in the simplest way. He looks down, "Yes," he says after a couple of seconds, "I've been thinking about what the Second Kira might do if he gets no response. For one, he might reveal more information that he knows Kira wants kept secret, to pressure him into a meeting. Of course, that would make Kira nervous." He looks up, and I'm surprised to see a smile on his face. It suits him. "It could be interesting. What would be more interesting," he continues, smile gone, and "is if Kira sends a message of his own to prevent this from happening. Ideally, this could provide us with the physical evidence needed to build a case against him. In the mean time, let's gather all the information we can on this copycat."
...
A loud ringing noise reaches my ears, and I groan from where my head is underneath my pillow. I just got back from the store, and I'm tired, and really, really don't want to deal with L and his nonsense right now. Still, it's not like he can be ignored when he doesn't want to be. I grab my coat and walk right back out my door, down the stairs, and out into my front lawn before I answer the phone. It's on its last ring. "Hai?" I ask briskly, pulling my hood over my head and looking at the ground.
"Raito," my father's voice says, "there is another message from the Second Kira. It was sent to Sakura TV and we intercepted it. I'm told it's a video and a journal this time. Anyway, I figured I should tell you," he finishes.
A journal, I muse, interested. "Yeah," I say into the phone, "Thanks Dad." The line goes dead, and I'm too lost in my own thoughts to really care. What could possibly be in the journal? A plan, maybe, or just another message?
I don't have time to think on it more, as I reach the hotel. I glance up at it, sigh, then walk in, heading straight for the elevator. Now I'm actually used to getting to L's room, I do it without much thought. I slide my key into the door, and everyone turns to look at me when I enter. Each one calls out a half-hearted greeting, and I know I'm not the only one who is tired.
L gestures me to my father, who is scanning a notebook, one that is usually bought for school kids. "He wanted it shown on TV," L offers, not looking at me. I'm tempted to stick my tongue out at him, but contain myself and make my way over to my father.
"He wanted the journal shown on TV?" I question, basically repeating what L just said. I see him glare at me slightly for only a moment from the corner of my eyes before he is fixated on the TV again.
I reach for the book, and my father hands it over. "Yeah, and this is it," he replies.
I bring it up to my face, looking over the kanji characters in curiosity. 2003? I wonder, momentarily bewildered as to why in the hell we would receive entries from a diary last year. "Please take a look at the entry he made on the thirtieth," L says, and I glance at him, but he is still looking at the television. I blink and hum, to let him know I heard, then look at the entry from the thirtieth. Confirmed our Shinigami, the Tokyo Dome. Then I realize-these entries are not from last year. They're just dated that way to throw people off track. But, these are things that he intends to do in the future. He wants to meet Kira and 'Confirm our Shinigami' on May 30th. If this were aired on TV, his intentions would be obvious. I glance up at the other notes and read them quickly. Nothing catches my interest-it's all personal bullshit we don't need, though there are mentions of other places where he is meeting friends.
"What do you think?" L questions, and I look up. He's standing right next to me, and our eyes meet for a moment before I look away. I stare instead at his name. "Is it real?"
I lower the journal and bring my eyes from the bold red letters to stare at him, taking in every inch of his face. The pale skin, high cheekbones, heavy bags under his eyes, practically nonexistent eyebrows. "Really," I say, "All I can say right now is this Kira is quite stupid."
The rest of the Task Force crowds around us, and Matsuda leans forwards, gesturing with his arm, "Yeah, I agree," he says. "I mean, it's completely obvious he wants to meet Kira at the home game." L walks away while Matsuda is saying this, and I wonder if the investigator has any respect for us at all.
"Doesn't he understand what would happen if we aired this message?" Soichiro demands. "It would create a complete panic and the game would have to be cancelled," he finishes, looking down while his fingers rest lightly on his chin.
L is sitting in his chair looking over a box of chocolate candies. He speaks up just as he puts one in his mouth. "To be honest, it's so stupid, I'm not even sure how to deal with his whole situation anymore." Everyone, including myself, stares at him. I'm not sure what the others are thinking, but I really would love to know. All I can think is that he really doesn't have much respect for us. He gets up and puts the candies on the other table then goes to sit back down saying, "If we make the diary public, we'd be forced to make some kind of public announcement canceling the game of the thirtieth. But if we don't broadcast it, we can be sure the Second Kira won't do anything."
We all move to sit down on the couches while L finishes speaking. "Won't canceling the game make him angry?" inquires Matsuda, sitting down. "There's no telling what he'll do." My father takes a seat opposite Matsuda and Aizawa takes a seat next to him.
"Frankly, that's not a big concern," L replies. I sit down next to my father, close to L, and cross my legs, feeling at headache start to build again. I dearly hope it doesn't render me immobile again. "From what we've witnessed it's safe to say that the Second Kira admires the real one. He gave his word to the Kira we've invented that he'll refrain from around killing aimlessly, and I'm inclined to believe that." He looks at my father and I, and continues, "I say we make it public, and we air an announcement canceling the game. At the same time, we'll announce that on May 30th, we're going to set up checkpoints on all roads leading to the Tokyo Dome. And finally," he takes a breath, "we'll send a response from our invented Kira, something like, 'I understand, and I agree to meet you there." L picks up a teacup and takes a sip.
"Ryuuzaki," My father says loudly, and I look up from my hands to stare in my father's direction. "You don't honestly expect him to go there if we set up checkpoints around the Dome, do you?"
L pulls the teacup from his mouth, and picks up the journal paper that my father had set on the table, next to a fresh box of chocolates. "I don't think that Kira would even consider it," he informs us. "But it's possible that the other one might. And it all depends on how stupid he really is. However," L says loudly, quickly, "assuming that he's not actually the idiot we think he is, there could be another message hidden in this diary. One that's not so obvious. If there's a message here, written in some code, only the people with this, 'Shinigami Power' can understand, there'd be no way for me to decipher it. Still, it would only make sense for us to look into the places that were mentioned in the journal. The 22nd, he's meeting a friend in Aoyama, the 24th, meeting another friend in Shiuia. We have to be prepared for the possibility that all of our efforts will be fruitless. So let's keep an eye out for people with notebooks in Aoyama, and people in clothing stores in Shiuia." He places the journal back on the table. "All we can do is place more surveillance cameras in Aoyama and in Shiuia, in hopes that we might capture somebody. We should also arrange to have undercover officers in both locations on these dates."
"I should probably go to Aoyama and Shiuia, since I'd blend in with the crowd there, you know?" Matsuda says, smiling. I glance at him, and I suppose he would, since he's young and loud and slightly childish - yes, I'm sure he'd fit right in with all the other idiots.
L places his teacup on the saucer on the table. "I'll go too," I offer. My father immediately begins to protest, but I cut him off, "I'll be alright, don't worry. Aoyama and Shiuia are places I'd go to anyway -" they aren't, "- and not to mention, out of all of us, I'd probably look the most natural hanging out with Matsui-kun there. Besides, the Second Kira will be there looking for Kira, not for the police." I can feel L staring at me, and my headache worsens as the hairs on the back of my neck begin to rise. I look down at my lap and allow, for the briefest of seconds, my eyes to fade to their natural red before I force them back to the amber everyone is used to. The pressure behind my eyes is barely lifted, and I use a lot of conscious effort not to press my hands to my temples - a clear give-away for a headache.