A/N: Whew! I've never gotten such a response for one chapter! Wow! Thank you all so much!

Oh, and I've never gotten so many death threats before either . . . o.0;;

Again, I'm kinky in that I take great, unbridled joy out of said death threats . . . keep 'em coming people! That make me giggle! XD I was totally going to wait till tomorrow to put this chapter up, but I just couldn't stand having it done and not up on the web! I hope you people are happy! Well, Light's dead, so maybe not all that happy, per se, but at least you get to see what happens now! Bwhahaha!

Oh, and the chapter title was inspired by Emily Dickenson's awesome poem, which I have included. Not so much the actual words, but if you read it and understand it even a little bit (which is so freaking HARD with Emily Dickenson!), then you can see the parallels in the story!

I felt a Funeral, in my Brain

I felt a Funeral, in my Brain,

And Mourners to and fro

Kept treading – treading – till it seemed

That Sense was breaking through –

And when they all were seated,

A Service, like a Drum –

Kept beating – beating – till I thought

My Mind was going numb –

And then I heard them lift a Box

And creak across my Soul

With those same Boots of Lead, again,

Then Space – began to toll,

As all the Heavens were a Bell,

And Being, but an Ear,

And I, and Silence, some strange Race

Wrecked, solitary, here –

And then a Plank in Reason, broke,

And I dropped down, and down –

And hit a World, at every plunge,

And Finished knowing – then –

-Emily Dickenson

The Art of Drowning

A Funeral in My Brain

To L, time was irrelevant.

It could have been seconds.

It could have been hours.

It could have been days.

But when it came down to it, time did not matter, unless L could somehow make it go backwards. Since that was impossible, the only thing that mattered to L was the man he held desperately in his arms. His mind was far too gone to worry about the 'hows' or the 'whys' yet. The only thing he could do was stare down at the silent man's face that rested peacefully in his lap.

Raito.

Yagami Raito was an enigma, one that L had been determined to puzzle through. He was hailed the greatest detective alive, and to a certain extent, L enjoyed bringing justice to those who deserved it, but what he really enjoyed about being a detective was puzzling through the cases that had left great men stumped. It was like a hobby to him, and his entire life revolved around his puzzles.

But then Kira happened, and along with Kira came Raito.

L had never had so much difficulty in a case, nor had he had so much difficulty with a suspect, and then suddenly Raito became much more than a suspect to L.

If being a detective was his hobby, then Raito became his obsession.

He was obsessed with proving the brilliant young man to be Kira. He was obsessed with the cat and mouse game, the mind games, and all the power struggles between them. He was obsessed with winning and proving himself superior to the man whose intelligence rivaled his own so perfectly.

Then, little by little, his obsession transformed into something else. L had been confused, because in all of their petty squabbles, fights, and bickering, Raito somehow came to mean something to the detective that went beyond an obsession fueled by a childish desire to win.

Raito became L's friend. His obsession stayed, but it held a new air of . . . affection . . . for the younger man.

When he first told Raito that he was his friend, L hadn't meant it. He was only trying to make Raito slip up, revel the slightest clue that he was Kira. Then after a while, L was surprised to realize that he really did mean what he had said, and it only served to further confuse him. He promised himself that he wouldn't let any personal feelings on his part effect the integrity of his investigation, but evidence upon evidence poured in proving that Raito was not Kira as L suspected.

L began to happily second guess his earlier assumptions.

However, the childish need to win had not left him. He still was fairly certain that Raito was Kira, despite the evidence to the contrary. Even knowing this, L allowed himself to get closer to the brunet - much closer - as if chaining himself to the man could be anything but close. As the months passed, L's feelings did not lessen when it came to the brunet. If anything, chaining himself to Raito had been a mistake.

It hadn't taken him long to realize he had lost.

He wouldn't be able to do a thing against his friend if Raito turned out to be Kira, as much as he tried to convince himself otherwise. He would have had to tell Watari, or the taskforce, and let them deal with Raito, because L refused to be apart of Raito's downfall. He couldn't take that kind of action against his one true friend.

Then Raito had confessed.

Even though he had the means to finally do the detective in - L's true name - Raito had refrained from killing his only obstacle and confessed. L had been shocked and angry at him, even a bit depressed. Raito had forfeited the game, and L could not stand that because he himself had already lost the game. It shouldn't be possible for his opponent to forfeit the game when they had already won.

Of course, the self-sacrificial actions did nothing to hamper L's growing feelings for Raito.

But now . . .

L gently caressed the already cooling cheek of the man in his lap. Raito hadn't known about L's feelings. L had kept them so well hidden that even he had had trouble realizing them.

And now . . .

L thought for a moment that Raito was crying. His cheek was wet. Then he saw another tear fall onto Raito's faced, and realized that he was the one that was crying.

He couldn't remember the last time he had wept. He wasn't sobbing. No noise escaped his parted lips. No, his grief was silent, as silent as the man who lay in his arms.

Time was irrelevant.

It could have been seconds or hours or days.

But this did not matter to L.

The only thing that mattered to him was the man in his arms, and he only wished that he had told Raito everything.

Watari was the one who found them.

"Ryuuzaki? What are you doing?" questioned Watari, who was staring at the two in confusion.

L did not reply.

"Is Yagami-san ill?" inquired Watari once again, coming further into the cell.

Watari's charge did not make any move to reply. He only continued to stare down at the man who's head lay resting in L's lap. L was gently caressing the other boy's cheek, his fingers lingering on the boy's high cheek bones.

"L?" tried Watari, this time cautiously.

Upon hearing his name, the man finally acknowledged Watari. Watari's eyes widened slightly at his charge's blank stare and red eyes. It was obvious that L had been crying.

"He's dead," stated L, sounding utterly defeated.

"Wh-what? How?" stuttered Watari in shock.

"I don't know," replied L, once again turning his gaze to the man in his arms.

"L, we need to get him to the hospital," said Watari, recovering his wits.

L shook his head. "There is no point in doing so. He is already dead."

"We need to find out how he died, L," tried Watari once again, his voice straining.

L shook his head again, this time more vigorously, his eyes never leaving the dead man's face.

"L, please," begged Watari.

"Why won't he wake up?" asked L, his voice cracking, while suddenly giving Watari his full attention. L sounded so child-like in that innocent question, especially when he looked at Watari as if Watari knew all the answers. His heart tugged painfully at the sight.

Watari hesitated. "L -"

"Raito-kun? Please wake up," whispered L, looking back down at the prone form.

Watari, now fearing for his charge's sanity, gently extracted L from the dead man's body.

"No, Watari! What are you doing? Leave me alone!" exclaimed L, but Watari was stronger than most people gave him credit for, and he pulled the skinnier man away from the cold corpse on the floor.

"Watari -"

"L, he's dead. Raito's dead. You have to let him go. There's nothing we can do," pleaded Watari, pulling the man out the room.

"No! No! He's not dead! Raito! Raito, wake up! No, stop! Just let me go to him!" gasped L, pushing against the older man.

"He's dead, L!" yelled Watari, trying to shock the sense back into the detective.

It seemed to work. L suddenly went limp in Watari's arms, falling to the floor to curl into his customary fetal position. Small, gasping sobs could be heard coming from the shaking figure, and L's widened eyes never left the body on the floor.

"He's . . . dead?" repeated L, his voice sounding dull and broken.

"L, we need to -"

"I forgot," continued L, his glazed eyes once again meeting Watari's in dull surprise.

The look in his charge's eyes scared Watari. They were so empty. There was nothing of the L that Watari knew reflected in those dull orbs.

"It's okay, L. Come on. Let's get you upstairs. It's too cold in here," said Watari, helping the other man to his feet.

"Yes . . . it is cold in here. I wonder why Raito has not asked me to adjust the temperature yet," said L faintly.

Watari briefly closed his eyes in pain. He had had no idea that his charge was so attached to the other boy, and it was tearing him up inside to see the effect the boy's death was having on the man he considered his own son.

L sat on his bed, in the room that both he and Raito had shared for months. His knees were drawn up tightly to his chest. His dull gaze never wavered from the wall opposite him, and he seemed to be lost in thought.

This sort of behavior usually wouldn't have bother Watari, but L had barely moved since Watari had found him, and that was hours ago. Another worrying development was L being so steadfastly unresponsive to Watari's offerings of cake or tea. L didn't respond to any outside stimulation at all.

The boy really had meant something to the detective then, and Watari would be lying if he said he wasn't desperately worried about his charge. He didn't know what to expect the detective to do, but as long as L wasn't trying to throw himself out the window, Watari would let him to grieve in his own way.

Watari sighed, stroking his mustache in agitation.

It was late, or early - close to seven o'clock in the morning - and he was tired, having stayed up the entirety of the night. He had returned from the hospital some hours before after delivering Yagami's body to a trusted friend that he and L had worked with in the past, and Watari expected the man to call soon. The doctor would run some blood work and a few tests on Yagami-kun to determine the cause of death.

At that very moment, Watari felt the vibrations of his mobile in his breast pocket. He hurriedly pulled it out, glancing at the unmoving figure on the bed before flipping his phone open.

"Yes?"

"Ah, Watari-san?"

"Yes, Sato-san. I'm glad you were available so late. Thank you for getting back to me on such sort notice. Do you know what happened to him?"

A sigh. "Well, anything for an old friend, and yes, we've found something. The blood work points to a heart attack, but that is unnatural in someone so young. I've pulled his files. He's not a criminal - far from it - but I can't think of any other explanation as to why the boy would die from a heart attack."

Watari stiffened at the doctor's prognosis. A . . . heart attack? But, did that mean that Yagami-kun hadn't been - Had most likely been murdered by -

"Also, well, I tried to check to see if young Yagami-san had a history of heart attack or heart disease in his family. I pulled up his parent's files, and when I saw that Yagami Soichirou had suffered from a natural heart attack fairly recently, I pulled his blood work to see if there was any similarities between his and his son's, and I found something worth note," replied the doctor, sounding unusually hesitant.

"What was it?" asked Watari.

"Well, and just keep in mind that I personally rechecked its accuracy more than once, but it seems as if Yagami Raito is not the biological child of Yagami Soichirou and Yagami Sachiko. I thought this was odd, seeing as we have a birth certificate, but on further investigation, it seems as if that birth certificate and the medical history provided before the age of 10 can not be anything other than forged," explained the doctor.

"What? Why? Why would someone do something like that?" asked Watari, his mind racing.

"I'm not sure. I wouldn't have known it myself if I hadn't had Yagami Soichirou's recent blood work. I thought it was suspicious, but I doubt it has anything to do with the young boy's death. I just supposed you would want to know as I find it highly suspicious that the boy's records have been tampered with to such a degree. That in and of itself warrants further inquiry on your part, no doubt," said the doctor.

"No doubt," agreed Watari.

"I have the body awaiting pick up in the morgue. I'm sure you will be making the funeral arrangements?" asked Sato.

"Yes, yes. Someone should be there later today," agreed Watari.

"I am sorry for your loss, old friend," continued the doctor in a softer voice.

"As am I, Sato-san. Thank you for all of your help. I expect you will keep all of your findings discreet?" asked Watari.

"But of course," replied Sato.

Watari sighed, closing the phone. This whole ordeal was getting messier and messier.

L was still staring unseeingly at the wall, giving Watari no indication that he was even aware of the other man's presence, let alone the conversation that had just transpired. L was in no condition to worry about Watari's findings. He would leave the detective be for now.

Watari, however, had some investigating of his own to do.

But before that, the others needed to be told, and L was in no condition for that either.

Mogi was the first one to arrive.

The silent man gave Watari a brief nod before settling himself down at this desk. Watari returned the nod, standing silently against the wall, waiting for the others.

Matsuda and Aizawa came in together, Matsuda chatting away about some inane thing or another while Aizawa made a valiant attempt at ignoring his younger coworker. The pair barely glanced at Watari before moving to their respected desks. To them, it was assumed that Watari would be making excuses as to L's absence once again.

And then Yagami followed a few moments afterwards, and when he saw Watari, he scowled.

"Watari-san, it's been two weeks since I last saw my son, and now that Ryuuzaki has disappeared, I demand to know what's -"

"I will explain everything, Yagami-san. Please, everyone, just hear me out before you say anything," interrupted Watari, holding his hand up in a placating manner.

Yagami scowled, but said nothing, and the other's gave Watari their full and curious attention.

Watari cleared his throat. "Two weeks ago, something highly unexpected happened. Yagami Raito confessed to Ryuuzaki that he was Kira."

"WHAT?!" yelled Yagami, jumping up from his desk.

"Please, Yagami-san. This is difficult enough as it is. Please allow me to finish," replied Watari.

Yagami's gaze was smoldering, but nonetheless, he kept his mouth shut. The man's hands balled into fists, and Watari had to stop himself from taking a step back at the anger the other man was barely keeping in check.

"Ryuuzaki determined that Raito might have been under the influence of Kira, so he placed Raito back into solitary confinement for observation to determine if Raito was somehow under the control of Kira or if what Raito said was true," said Watari, pausing to gauge the mood of the taskforce.

Yagami was slowly turning red in anger. The others continued to hang on Watari's every word, wide eyed with disbelief.

Watari continued. "Last night . . . there was an incident -"

"Oh! Does this have something to do with the black-out?" interrupted Matsuda.

Watari frowned. He had forgotten about that particular incident in the resulting mayhem. Strange, but . . .

"There was a black-out? When? And how did you know about it?" asked Aizawa, looking pointedly at Matsuda, as if silently accusing the clumsy man of causing it.

Matsuda flushed. "O-Oh, well, I was - working - late last night, and there was a black-out."

"I believe that that particular incident was an accident that unfortunately coincided with an even graver happening last night. I checked the problem myself. We experienced a power-surge, and the generators did not kick in automatically as they were supposed to. I had to manually start them," said Watari.

"So that's why the computers were acting funny this morning," added Mogi thoughtfully.

Matsuda nodded in agreement, still looking a little sheepish, but relieved that no one questioned him further.

"What happened last night, Watari-san?" gritted Yagami. It seemed as if the man's patience was running thin.

Watari took a steadying breath. "We - well, Raito . . . is no longer suspected of being Kira. He - died of a heart attack, last night, more likely than not at the hands of Kira."

The color drained from Yagami's face, his fists slackening. "Wha-what?"

"Raito's dead?" gasped Matsuda.

Yagami sat hard in his chair, his head in his hands. He refused to look at the taskforce, and Watari could see that the man's shoulder shook, if only slightly. No one moved to comfort the older man, all too stunned over the disturbing news.

Watari stood, gazing at the shocked room, silently wishing he could leave the oppressing room to check on his charge.

He had sent the team home. There was no reason to be there at a time like this.

Watari sighed as he finished the arrangements for the funeral, glancing at the silent man still staring unseeingly at the wall in front of him. He hadn't once moved since Watari had brought him to the room from the lower level, and it was well into the morning.

The funeral would be held tomorrow. Yagami-san had requested to see his son's - adopted son's - body, but Watari had informed him that Raito was more than likely already in transport to the funeral home. Yagami-san had numbly asked Watari to arrange it all, but had asked that Raito be buried in the western-styled graveyard next to a quiet park that supposedly had been a favored place to the deceased young man.

Watari took sip of his tea, grimacing at the temperature.

"What was the cause of death?" asked a dull voice.

Watari glanced at the detective, whose eyes were still glued to the wall.

"Heart attack."

"Kira, then," whispered the hunched man.

Watari nodded. "That is what I also expect. It seems as if Raito truly was under the control of Kira."

L didn't respond for a few moments, and when he did, Watari had to strain his old ears to catch the next words.

"I was so sure that Raito was Kira. I was wrong . . . and now Raito is dead," muttered L, holding his knees tighter against his chest.

Watari briefly entertained the idea of telling L about the mysterious forgery of Raito's identity. There was obviously something going on that L should get to the bottom of, but one look at the defeated and heart broken face of his charge, and Watari held back. He would find out himself and then tell the detective.

For now, L needed time to grieve.

"We have suceeded. The plan went smoothly."

"Excellent. And you are certain that there will be no suspicion?"

"Yes. The boy is dead, and I have made certain that nothing will be traced back to us.

"You have done well, my friend. Very well indeed."

His head hurt.

That was the first thought that came to mind when Light slowly began to regain consciousness. His eyelids were heavy, and his mouth felt uncomfortably dry. With valiant effort on his part, Light managed to open his eyes, only to be faced with darkness.

He was beginning to hate the dark.

After a few minutes of gathering his strength, Light attempted to sit up -

Only to knock his head against something hard and heavy.

What the hell . . . ?

He lifted his arms, feeling close, padded walls. Something was lying on his chest, he felt that too, trying to identify it in the dark. Flowers? He pushed against the hard, heavy top, his muddled brain not making the connection until -

A coffin?!

Light screamed.

EDITED: 7-3-09

A/N: Bam! Another chapter under the ole belt!

Weeeeeeeeeelllllll . . . . whadja think? Haha! I had so much fun writing this one too!

So, come on! I need to hear you SAY SOMETHING! What did you think, hmm? Aren't you glad I didn't really kill off Light?

Of course, this raises even MORE unanswered questions. hehehehehe! XD