A/N: All of you never cease to make me blush! I stand in awe at the awesomeness that is the readers of my story. Without any of you, my story would not be possible! I would have given up long ago without eveyone's continued support and kind words. So thank you all!!!
(And thanks for the death threats! Seriously, I really like those. They make me feels so special. If anyone is inclined, I'd love to get a few more!)
So, I was sitting at the kitchen table a few hours ago, being annoyed by my 14 year old sister (while trying to write this chapter!), and she said something so stupid that I actually found sense in it and figured it was pretty deep. Thought I'd mention it for shits and giggles.
"Everything is just a little bit something."
Wow. Too right! XD Yeah, y'all probably want the story now. Okay, okay, I'll shut up!
Here ya go!
The Art of Drowning
Suffocation
It was raining the day of Raito's funeral.
A mass of black adorned figures crowded around the small gravesite, but L lingered a ways away from the crowd, not wanting to feel suffocated. He had even dressed for the occasion, wearing a somber black suit and dress shoes sans socks. He couldn't bear to wear socks.
Watari, dressed as smartly as always, held a black umbrella over the two of them. In fact, all the umbrella's were black, except for the sobbing Amane Misa's. Hers was red.
L briefly wondered why Raito had not been cremated. It was an entirely western-styled funeral. However, upon seeing the various gravestones bearing the name of Yagami, L concluded that the whole family had favored the western-style funeral for years.
The gravesite was indeed peaceful. Despite it being in the middle of Tokyo, it was situated at the edge of a quiet park. Trees, which were rare so near the city proper, swayed silently with the wind. The rain softly pattered on the ground, and the smell of wet grass and flowers tickled his nose. L understood why the Yagamis wished for Raito's final resting place to be here.
L shuffled his feet, staring blankly at the mourners. Misa was perhaps the loudest. The girl sobbed hysterically, oddly enough clinging onto to an uncomfortable looking Matsuda of all people. Raito's mother and sister held each other, each staring down at the gravestone of Yagami Raito. Soichirou had his hand on his wife's shoulder, silently bringing comfort to the woman, but L could see the glistening trail of tears on the usually stoic man's face.
The rest of the team was there, along with a few distant relatives of the Yagami's, and a few of Raito's peers from University. It wasn't a very large crowd, and for that L was thankful. He hated crowds almost as much as he hated socks.
The official story was that Raito had suffered a fatal fall down a stairwell. Ridiculous, but not wholly unbelievable, and it fit better than letting people know that the police chief's son was murdered by Kira. None of them needed the media attention that it would inevitably cause, and so the funeral was closed casket. This was both a blessing and a curse for L. He desperately wanted to see Raito's face just once more, but he knew that it would inevitably cause him more harm than good.
The hours following Raito's death had not only scared Watari, but L as well. L had never experienced grief to such a strong degree before, and was totally unprepared to deal with the emotional backlash Raito's death had caused. He had, for all intents and purposes, shut down. For hours he had been numb within his own mind, drowning in his grief, before finally being able to break through long enough to talk to Watari.
From there, Watari kept him grounded. He was not allowed to lose himself again. L knew Watari was afraid for his sanity. His brief and frightening display of temporary amnesia was enough to put Watari on high alert, and L found the elder man at his side at all times.
L didn't know whether to be relieved at the familiar presence, or annoyed at the overbearing older man. It made him feel weak to have Watari hovering over him constantly, like he wasn't strong enough to deal with it all himself, and maybe he wasn't. However, he'd be damned if he let anyone else know. Watari knowing was enough.
Which was why L gave himself this day. This was the last day that he would let himself mourn Yagami Raito. Tomorrow, Yagami Raito would be nothing but a painful memory, and L planned to throw himself whole heartedly into capturing the Kira that had murdered his friend and countless others, even if it meant sacrificing his own life to do so.
It was more than a game now. It was personal.
He wouldn't tell Watari though. If the older man knew what lengths L was prepared to go to secure the murderer's execution, he'd never get the man to leave him alone.
"Everyone is leaving," muttered Watari.
L looked up from where he had been studying a particularly crumbled gravestone while deep in thought. Yes, everyone was breaking away, heading back to their respected cars or taxis that lay in wait.
However, L made no move to leave. He stood, watching the black mass make their leave. A few broke away, coming over to where he stood, and L recognized Aizawa, Matsuda, and Mogi.
"Hey, Ryuuzaki," greeted Aizawa quietly. It was the first time that L had seen most of them in almost a week. Matsuda and Mogi nodded, and L was somewhat surprised to see that Matsuda's eyes were puffy. The younger man had always been rather fond of Raito.
"I expect everyone to return to Headquarters in a week. If Yagami-san needs more time, it is understandable. However, we must concentrate all of our efforts on finding Kira," stated L, his voice once again monotonous. His dull voice was a defense mechanism now, more than anything. He didn't want the others to detect the pain he was feeling.
"But it's been almost four weeks since the murders stopped. I thought it was Higuchi?" queried Matsuda.
"You idiot. Don't you know whose funeral we're at?" glared Aizawa.
Matsuda flushed, looking away in embarrassment.
L shook his head. "Higuchi was the third Kira. The first and second are still out there, and with Raito-kun's death, it is possible that he was first Kira and the second Kira killed him. However, I do not believe that to be the case. The most plausible theory I have at the moment is that Raito was not Kira, but was somehow being controlled by the first Kira, if his confession and subsequent death is anything to go on. I would not be surprised if the killings began again within the next week or so."
"Yeah, that sounds about right. I wouldn't be too shocked either," grunted Aizawa.
Mogi and Matsuda nodded in agreement.
"I will see you all in a week. Please let Yagami-san know that I do not expect him back so soon," said L, and the others recognized it for a dismissal.
"Yeah, we'll do that," said Aizawa, turning to leave.
The others followed suit, except Matsuda. He was biting his lip, a nervous gesture that L had observed before and concluded that the detective did so only when he was debating on whether or not to say something. L didn't know if he wanted to hear what the other man hesitated to say or not.
"Ryuuzaki, I-I just wanted to -" and then Matsuda hurled himself at L.
L blinked, dumbfounded to realize that Matsuda was hugging him.
"I'm so sorry! I know Raito was your friend! You must really be hurting inside, and I'm sorry," cried Matsuda.
L cut his eyes to Watari, silently begging for help. The older man merely stared, obviously torn between muted amusement and worry at his charge's predicament.
Finally, Matsuda let go. He patted the stunned detective awkwardly on the shoulder before running to catch up to the other two.
L shuddered. He had been unprepared for the physical contact, and it left him unsettled.
"Shall we?" asked Watari, indicating the black Rolls Royce that was their usual affair.
L shook himself a bit, trying to lose the uncomfortable feeling. "No, Watari. I will only be a moment. Why don't you start the car?"
Watari studied him for a brief second before nodding. He offered the umbrella to L, but L shook his head. With a sigh, Watari left him in the rain.
L walked slowly to the gravesite, paying no mind to the rain that was quickly soaking his hair and nice suit. His attention was solely focused on the coffin that hovered over a deep hole, suspended by the metal that would gently lower it into the grave later on.
L stared at it, willing himself not to run over there and pry open the coffin. He could feel the desperation, grief, and a bit of guilt coiling in his lower abdomen, threatening to release havoc upon him once more. He viciously suppressed it. He would not let those emotions conquer him again without a fight.
However, he hesitantly touched the coffin, letting his fingers caress the cold surface.
"I am so sorry that I could not protect you, Raito," whispered L, his voice cracking with suppressed emotion.
He drew his hand back, his eyes roving over the coffin, as if trying to remember every detail about the elongated box his friend was trapped in.
"Please rest knowing that I will bring your murderer to justice, even if it takes my own life to do so," said L, his voice stronger with his conviction.
"Goodbye, Raito-kun. I . . . will miss you."
And L turned, putting Yagami Raito behind him in more ways than one.
He did not look back.
Watari was skilled in many things. He was an excellent driver, his sniper skills were par to none, he had been hailed as one of the greatest inventors of the century, he could pilot a helicopter, an aeroplane, a sailboat, and he could even make a mean soufflé. However, if there was one thing that Watari was not good at, it was detective work, ironically enough.
Watari had retired to his private quarters early in the evening. He had claimed that all the events of the past few days had worn him out. Truthfully, Watari was feeling fine, but he had to have a good excuse to leave L so early in the evening, especially on the day of Raito's funeral.
But L seemed better. He wasn't staring off into space, or sobbing, or trying to throw himself of a balcony, or anything of that drastic sort, and for that Watari was grateful. If fact, L seemed to have turned back to the Kira case with a fresh gusto that Watari was sure stemmed from Raito's death. However, instead of being worried, Watari was thankful that L had found some way to channel his grief that did not involve a semi-catatonic state.
Watari sighed, putting thoughts of his ward out of his mind. It was distracting him from the task at hand. He adjusted his spectacles and squinted at the computer screen once more.
If only he had the deductive skills of his charge, then maybe he could get somewhere with his own investigation. The forgery of documents pertaining to Yagami Raito was like an itch he couldn't scratch. He wanted to know why the younger Yagami's birth certificate and medical history were faked. There was obviously something going on, something that someone somewhere wanted to hide. He supposed he could have simply asked the Yagamis, but this close after the funeral would be bad form.
So that left Watari on his own.
Hours later, Watari snapped his laptop closed with a frustrated sigh. He was getting nowhere. He just didn't have the skills required for the type of investigation he was trying to do. He would have to tell L. This situation, while certainly not related to the Kira case, would undoubtedly interest his ward because of L's close connection to the late Yagami.
Besides, having L weasel out the information would in turn satisfy his own burning curiosity as well. After all, Quillish Whammy hated not knowing why things were or how they worked, and he did not rest until his curiosity was sated. That was what had made him so good at his craft as an inventor, after all.
He rubbed his eyes, trying to stave off the exhaustion, and then gave the bedside clock a nasty glare for good measure. It was close to three in the morning. There just weren't enough hours in the day. His mind flashed to his ward. He thought ruefully that some people had all the hours in the world, especially if they did not sleep.
Thoughts of his ward reminded him that he would have to tell L about the mystery surrounding Yagami Raito's early life, but maybe it wouldn't hurt to wait a few days. L probably needed the time to center himself once more before he tackled something so emotionally draining.
Then again, maybe he should just drop it altogether. Yagami Raito was dead. Did he really want to bring the man's ghost back to haunt his ward, who had obviously been very attached to the young man, just because Quillish Whammy had an insatiable need to sate his curiosity?
Watari sighed in frustration, torn between dropping it and telling L.
He stood up from his chair, carefully straitening his back. He could feel his old bones creak in protest. He turned to the bathroom, intent on brushing his teeth before climbing into bed for a good three or four hours of sleep, and made his decision while squeezing toothpaste onto a navy blue toothbrush.
Watari would keep his own counsel for now, but he would eventually bring it up to L. His ward's mental and emotional well being were more important that his damned curiosity could ever be, and L needed some time to distance himself from all of this.
Yes, Watari would find the answers, but not now.
He distantly noted in the back of his mind that he was hyperventilating.
Light clawed desperately at the fabric lining the ceiling of the coffin. His gasping screams were the only sound he could hear except for the ripping fabric. He pushed as hard as he could against the top, but his arms were weak, and the lid was unforgiving.
He wasn't sure how long it had been since he had awoken. He had nothing to measure the passage of time. It was dark and cold and Light swore he could feel the walls of the coffin slowly closing in around him. It was getting tighter and everything felt narrower all of the sudden.
When the fabric had given way to polished wood, Light had clawed against that too. Anything to get himself out of the box he was trapped in. His fingernails scratched harshly against the wood, tearing the nails. He could feel the blood roll down his fingers, and the smell of blood and flowers in such an enclosed space made him gag and his stomach roll.
He prayed that the suffocation would end. He only wanted to break through, and again he pushed weakly against the lid. It didn't budge.
Tears streamed down his face. He had never been so frightened in his entire life, and the certainty of his impending death was made clearer as it became harder to breathe.
Suddenly, something slammed against the coffin, snapping Light away from the mind numbing fear that had polluted his brain. He felt the jarring vibrations as something thudded against his wooden prison repeatedly.
He gasped as the lid was ripped away, blinking wildly at the flashlight that shined in his face.
"Raito?" asked an urgent voice, one that flooded him simultaneously with confusion, fear, and hope. It was the same voice that had attacked him in his cell when everything was black.
"D-Dad?"
EDITED: 7-3-09
A/N: What the hell? Soichirou?!?! Huh? Dude.
Yeah, some of you saw that one coming. Some of you didn't. XD Annnnyway, y'all should probably SAY A LITTLE SOMETHING THREATENING! Hahaha! What is it with me? Why do I find threatening reviews so warm and fuzzy? Oh well. XD
Thought I'd give a shout out to one of my new buddies on Gaiaonline who follows my story. Drop a line if your on there. I love making new friends!
Thanks for being so awesome Moonkist_x_!!!! You make me smile! C:
Oh, and did the title make anyone else start singing that song that I can't remember the name of? "Suffocation! No breathing! Don't give a fuck if I cut my arm bleeding!" Duh nuh duh nuh nah nuh nuh nuh . . . . Yeah, it's 1AM. I obviously need sleep. Hah, sorry you guys.
I do leave a lot of cliff hangers, don't I?