One week later
An email was sent from Aiber stating that the duplicate had arrived in Japan. Each member of the investigation team had been notified. Yagami-san, who had been in Lourdes at the time, bought a one-way ticket to Japan, arriving a day later, his mental strength waning.
However, what had delivered the final blow to his hopes was the sight of his son, laid out on an examining table, a kerchief covering his face.
A pathologist posing as the NPA's resident-head post-mortem examiner was hired by Aiber. He explained everything to Yagami-san, cause of death -- which was harshly evident by the multiple gunshots to the face. He showed him blood samples, charts, whatever would convince the grieving father that this was his son and he was good and dead.
Of course, Yagami-san had gone out searching for other opinions on the matter. Anyone within the Forensic department that could tell him otherwise, that this was not his son, that this could not be his son, that this should not be his son.
But the only people who could competently diagnose such a thing were the other pathologists, who Aiber had approached long before to "arrange" their monetary futures. They had unflinchingly lied about the results, and the next few days played out in a cruel but necessary fashion, the chief continually questioning their expertise and them refuting all his claims with soothing words like 'you're going through a rough time right now' or 'maybe you should call your wife and daughter.'
He tried to get in contact with Watari over twenty times. At some point, Aiber was certain it was only by the bare threads of his job, driving him onward, that was holding back the uncompromising despair that awaited Yagami-san at the end of all of this.
The rest of the investigation team had brought in another pathologist, which was not unexpected by the conman. Aiber looked into his background, easily found information to blackmail him with, and then unscrupulously threatened him before sealing it with hush money.
The funeral was set for March 28, exactly one month after Raito's birthday.
Watari poured the usual tea, the steam floating up and coiling in the air fragrantly. L, however, did not touch the cup, fingers too busy opening and closing screens or tapping discordantly along his knees. There was an unfamiliar restlessness to his movements, and that agitation only seemed to amplify as the many surveillance monitors that displayed various rooms throughout the building began to shut down, booting back up again one at a time, each now patched into the feed of the overhead camera in one particular subbasement cell.
"Would you rather some coffee?" Watari asked. He waited for a response, but it never came. L's eyes were glued to the screens, the pad of his thumb pressing up against his gums and distorting his upper lip and cheek.
"L?" Watari tried again, surprised that he actually had to call out for a second time. L could be however deep into thought and he would always answer when called. Placing down his tea-tray, Watari gazed at the detective.
There was an odd intensity to how he was staring at the monitors. Of course, there was always that concentration that could be seen as over-the-top when L looked at a person, particularly a person who interested him, and even more particularly, Raito. But it was always analytical, dissecting; his looking was there to support his theories, to aid him in the investigation, to help him put pressure on his suspects.
There was absolutely nothing rational or analytical about the way L looked at Raito anymore. He was staring at him for another reason, for a reason completely cut-off from the case.
And that was dangerous.
"L Lawliet" Watari said, without any inflection in his voice, and L broke away from the screen to finally give him his attention.
"What are you doing?"
"Would you like some coffee?" Watari offered simply. He thoroughly ignored the odd stare L was giving him, as he had gotten used to those and a number of other immature traits the detective possessed by the time he was hitting puberty. "Also," Watari added, skipping over pleasantries, "Miss Amane has been asking to speak to you. Do you think you could spare some time to go to her?"
L nodded, as if to assure himself more than to give Watari an answer. He hesitantly moved away from his desk, stopping altogether when he reached the door. He turned back to look at Watari and the older man walked up to him, taking the wheelchair by the handle-bars and pushing him on.
"Misa's deathnote?"
"Yes."
"Where I hid it?"
"Yes."
"I know where it is, but I'm not sure I should tell you."
"You can trust me. Friends do not keep secrets from each other."
"You're not my friend."
"That hurts, but you still have to tell me where you hid Misa's deathnote."
"I'll give you a clue."
"I see that you are still in the mood to play with me. That's fine. Give me your clue."
"It's under the tree of knowledge – you know where that is."
"Why would I know?"
"Adam should also know how to find it."
"I do not know if you are merely being cryptic or obvious."
"The serpent's there too."
"You mean Ryuuk?"
"He probably wants an apple, so if you see him give him one, but don't eat it yourself."
"You are very fixated on this idea. Am I to believe that the deathnote is under a tree?"
"Oh most precious of all trees in Paradise, worthy of highest praise, henceforth often shall I ease the burden of your branches, fill on your diet I grow mature in knowledge, as a god who knows all things…"
"Now you are quoting Milton. That makes me think I am on the right track."
"Adam shall share with me, whether in bliss or woe. So dear I love him that with him all deaths I could endure, without him, live no life."
"I see that you would rather postpone telling me any more information. You must not trust yourself to speak if you would rather recite lines from Paradise Lost. Fighting the drug this late into things, you are a very troublesome person, Raito."
"Do you see in me a corpse, Adam, for such grief your words and face express? Yet I feel twice alive and awake as before. Or can it be that already I transcend to levels above man's low perception."
"So it is buried under a tree? It must be a large tree since you are comparing it to the Tree of Knowledge. You had been planning to tell Misa the location at my headquarters, so I doubt you would make the directions overly complicated. It would have to be simple. I am betting that the tree was located somewhere in that area, so it must be noticeable from the building, but from what direction? If I remember correctly, there were large, forested lands to both the East and South. Would you like to give me answer from those two choices?"
"…"
"Your silence says that I might be on the right track. How can I phrase it so you will play along with me?Ah, I think I have it: With unrelenting pride and steadfast hate, though in pain, to his battered partner hoarsely he proclaimed…"
"…Neither for this, nor for what else his powerful rage can inflict, will I repent or change! Though outwardly I may be changed, not so in my fixed mind, nor my disdain, or sense of injustice which raised me to contend with the mightiest."
"I always thought that Lucifer was given the best lines in that book. Don't you agree?"
"At that point in the story, he was known as Satan."
"Do tell?"
"Satan translates to 'the wanderer' or 'adversary' which makes sense that God would name him this after he rebelled against him. But Lucifer means light-bearer. During his time spent in heaven, he was God's most cherished angel, so it's only natural that his creator give him a name that shows his partiality to him, and what better way to show his love than comparing him to light. There's also dawn-bringer, morning star…"
"Yes, but what about his other monikers, like Prince of the East or Prince of the South?"
"Why are quoting from that book?"
"Because you are not taking all text into account. Even though Lucifer and Satan are considered separate entities in that book, the titles given to him still makes sense. Satan fell to Hell, which is under Heaven, and Lucifer was named after the morning star, which is Venus, and is visible in the East at sunrise. Therefore, Prince of the East and Prince of the South. East or South? Lucifer or Satan. By the way, which do you prefer of the two?"
"Lucifer."
"Yes, you would choose him, wouldn't you? Of course, your choice and the direction they correspond to may have absolutely nothing to do with each other. I already have two leads, so I can always ask Miss Wedy to check the forested areas, both east of south of my headquarters. I was simply making a decision as to which one I would order her to inspect first – kind of like tossing a coin, but much more fun, since Raito-kun was participating."
"…"
"Although, now that I see how tense you are, my hunch about the notebook being east of my headquarters, towards the largest and most visible tree, might be correct. I will, of course, have to look into that."
It had started with a normal phone call from Mr. Hunde. L had left Misa's room after his talk with her, and using the elevators, he arrived at the second sub-basement in less than five minutes.
The doctor was in front of the door when he pulled up in his wheelchair. He was smoking.
"Hello, Mr. Hunde. What exactly are you doing?"
The man dragged in deeply from the cigarette between his yellow-stained fingertips. L wrinkled his nose. He could tell the other had been smoking out here in the corridor for some time now; the acrid smell of cigarettes was so strong that he could practically taste it in the air.
"Would you put out your cigarette, doctor?"
The man plucked the stick of tobacco out of his mouth. He flicked ash from the tip and it landed on the similarly painted floors, blending in and disappearing into a light-colored smudge. Hunde tucked the cigarette back between his lips, and L opened his mouth to say something, but a loud noise from inside stopped him.
L turned his head towards the paint-chipped door, the brownish rust peeking through at him from where the black stopped. Noise from behind closed doors was never a problem, but this part of the floor was older than the rest. Here, the soundproofing was non-existent and the walls were in bad need of a rollover brush.
It had been a long time since L had used these facilities, so wear was expected, especially when he would rather forget the existence of this building and the reason for its being. He had come to Russia many times before, but always opted to stay in fancy hotels in the crown din of the urban sprawl.
St. Petersburg was more than a hundred islands set into ice, like tiny emeralds inlayed in hard and worn-out silver plates, so it was easy to find a place just out of the commercial and historical centers, but still close enough where from his window L could spot across the gray bay monuments of the past, a lavish domed-cathedral breaking the sullen skyline or a palace sprawling down the green coast.
It was like a different world on the other side of that bridge. However much it down-poured in the cities -- where people bustled around noisily on red-bricked boulevards, colored umbrellas in tow -- it was never as wretched as when it rained over this seemingly uninhabited island; the cold and dampness of the weather seemed to burrow right into your bones, turning the landscape around you into an even more sodden and depressing hue of gray.
L glanced over at the doctor. Accompanying the cigarette smoke in the air was tension, brought about by the next sound to issue forth from behind those doors. L felt his blood run cold and he was suddenly very aware of his heartbeat, straining against his chest, the rhythm slow but emphatic, like a door slamming shut in unexpected but well-timed moments.
L caught the doctor looking at him, probably noticing how tense he had become. The man off-handedly flicked more ash from his cigarette. He seemed to be observing him.
But all thoughts of that scrutinizing gaze vanished from L's mind as a familiar voice split the air around him. His heartbeat jarred into the cavity of his chest, resuming from there with a gradually faster pulse.
"Why is he screaming like that?"
The doctor answered him with a flick of the wrist, tossing his cigarette, and at the same time snuffing it out underfoot. He was still staring down at him with the same clinical appraisal.
"Before you ask me to move, know that Tailor's getting his answers right now. Remember, you paid us to torture this boy, not hold his hand."
The screams behind the door suddenly died out, leaving behind a silence that was as terrifying, if more. There was a calm knock, one that sounded terribly out of place for all its familiarity. Hunde turned on his heel and opened the door, L following behind, his dark eyes locking onto the rectangle of glass that was the window into Raito's cell.
And at the bottom, right-hand corner of the mirror, nearly out of sight, but distinguishing itself in the dusty light bouncing off the reflective surface, there was blood…
Tailor walked out of the room with a scalpel.
"Here's your location. I wrote it down." He tossed a piece of paper at him, bloody fingerprint smudges all over it. "I don't know what's going on here exactly, but he's Kira, so he needs to be dealt with properly. He's dangerous and he shouldn't be allowed to live this long, so you should arrange for his execution -- and soon." Looking down at the scalpel in his hand, the ex-soldier added impassively, "We did our job, so after Hunde finishes, we're leaving."
L bent over to pick up the piece of paper that had floated to the floor, and resettling himself back in his chair, he glanced down at contents of the note.
"Yes, I think that would be for the best."
…………………………
He sat outside the open shower-room. Doctor Hunde was leaning on a wall, away from the spray and silently guarding Raito, who was sitting directly under the stream of water, his legs pulled up to his chest as he huddled over his knees.
From where L sat, Raito's back was facing him. He could see the two deep gashes on either side of his spine, each one sloping up and away from the line of demarcation that was his vertebrae column. They were precisely cut so they matched the other, the flesh, livid pink, as blood was washed away to trail down the rest of his perfectly unmarred skin.
L stared and stared at it. There was a twisting in his gut as he took in the shape of the cut, as past conversations played out in his head, former off-hand comments that he had made towards Raito in his cell; stupid, little pet names that he had never thought twice about, not caring if anyone heard him through the audio devices.
If L had known this was going to happen as a result, he would have kept them to himself; he wouldn't have occassionally called Raito "angel-kun" in front of the two interrogators and given Tailor the necessary psychological ammo to use against him.
He also would have never kept it to himself that he had already sent someone after the notebook two days ago, despite having known for a week, or being confident about his deduction from what Raito had told him in his stupor. 'But it would not hurt to send Miss Wedy to check it out in advance,'he had thought. And then, 'what need was there to alert the other two?'
'No,' he had thought,'he didn't have to alert them at all…'
L stared at the two slashes on Raito's back and thought it was a mockery. It was a mockery of Raito.
It was a mockery of him.
It was a mockery of his justice.
The black oxfords the doctor wore clicked effortlessly on the tile floor. L's gaze slid over as the man walked out of the showroom's entrance, taking a position next to him.
"I don't take it lightly when a prisoner does whatever he wants and gets away with it, and as you can see my partner certainly has no patience for it either." Mr. Hunde fixed L with a firm look. "I also think it would be best to break our contract now. I was always under the impression that L was a complete professional, certainly to have arrived in the position he has – however, what I saw in the hallway today… that was not the face of someone I would trust with my financial future. To tell you the truth, I am having significant doubts as to whether you are, in fact, who you say you are."
"Watari will be coming down soon," L said to the doctor. There was no hint of any emotion in his voice, but from what he said, it was not hard to understand that the doctor's presence was no longer needed, or wanted, for that matter.
"Of course," the man agreed. He took a step away, but his eyes came back to rest on L. "Not meant as an insult, but…you look terrible. My advice to you as a doctor, finish up your business here and go properly recuperate from your injuries."
L did not watch him leave, his attention had long returned to Raito on the other side of the room. The shower was still on, droning away as falling water did. He went to shut it off and Raito did not move one inch, his head still resting on his knees, his arms wound tightly around them.
L grabbed the towel draped over a metal bar.
"Get up."
Raito was shaking, whether from anger or some other emotion that could grip his heart as tightly, it was hard for him to tell with his face hidden away. The two slashes on his upper back were bleeding again, the blood mixing with water droplets that clung to his skin, diluting it and sliding down in pink trails.
L proffered the towel. "Take it."
"God damn you…"
L could hear the rawness in his voice, the scrape of overused vocal cords that was not at place in the always smooth tone that Raito spoke with. "What do you want now…?" and shaky, unbearably so, as any leaf on a tree would tremble when the wind turned.
"I want you to take this."
Raito looked up, his eyes were red-rimmed, but there was no trace of sadness, nor any suggestion that tears could even fall from them. Anger, as honest and sincere as it could be was staring back at him. Raito looked as hateful, as bitter, and as angry as L had ever seen him. His eyes had gone that fierce amber color that was more golden than the usual cold bronze, and that made his skin and hair stand out that much more. In this stark room, where the light played no tricks and everything was magnified, it was almost too much to bear looking directly at him.
"You know where it is. You finally have what you wanted so badly." Raito had forgotten about their conversation last week. But that was not surprising, the drug was designed to clean up any mess it left behind, and as far as mess was concerned, memories were high on its priority.
"Here," L said, dropping the towel on Raito's legs. "Take it and cover –"
"I don't want the fucking towel, you idiot!" Raito cursed. He flung it the side. The sudden motion from him agitated his wounds, causing more blood to seep out. "Don't think I don't know what he carved into my back…!" Wincing from the flare-up of pain, Raito finally gave up and simply put his head back down, the tightening fingers in his hair showing how frustrated he was.
Remaining silent even after such an outburst, L went to pick up the abused cloth, briefly shaking it out. At the noise he was making Raito slowly looked up. His expression, weary and overcome, like it had taken all his strength and even more to shout at him.
"You're going to kill me." It's wasn't a question and the voice it was delivered in was far too weak for it be called a definite statement either.
L bent over and draped the towel on his shoulders regardless of where his wounds were. Blood quickly seeped through the white fabric in a close outline of a far-away bird in flight. "Watari will be here in a second. He will clean your wounds." L sat back in his wheelchair, navigating around to where the entrance was.
"Is that all you have to say to me?" Raito asked, disbelievingly. There was a small, humorless laugh in his voice as he asked that question.
"What else am I supposed to say?" L retorted, losing his temper a bit. "This is the bed of thorns that you have created with your own hands and now you must take responsibility and lie in it." Despite the confrontation in his words, L did not meet Raito's stare, and it was more than luke-warm reluctance that kept him from gazing back. It was weakness. He felt weak, cowardly; all his inner strength was leaving him, or was he only now starting to notice how depleted he was? Whatever the explanation for this feeling, L was certain of one thing and one thing only:
He could not face Raito now.
Pushing the rims on his wheelchair, L slowly moved out into the hallway. He could see Watari coming in the opposite direction, a black bag held in one hand. "Is something the matter?" Watari asked, stopping on his way, the wrinkles on his forehead deepening in concern.
"I'm going to rest for a while. Can you watch over him for me?" L rubbed above his eyes with the back of his hand, trying to ease whatever tension had built up behind them.
"Would you like me to help you to the elevator?"
Dismissively, "No, I'm fine, just go," he said, continuing on. The pulse in his head was expanding, moving further up his temple in a clench-and-unclench sensation. Getting on the elevator and getting off had further worsened it, and by the time L entered his room, he felt strangely nauseous.
He hadn't eaten anything this morning, forgoing sustenance to rest, then forgoing rest for monitoring Raito before going off to check up on Misa. His mouth felt and had that weighty feeling, the kind one would get when they knew they were about to throw-up.
Going for his desk instead of intelligently going towards the bathroom, L rested his head down on the cool wood and closed his eyes. His laptop was on; he could feel the warmth radiating from it, from the white glow of the monitor that displayed his screensaver.
L raised his hand to fold it close, to shut off that suddenly irritating light and heat from its source, but his fingers halted above the monitor. A chiming noise had made him peer one eye open to see the screen-saver gone and the message-icon flashing in the corner. Redirecting his hand towards the keyboard and clicking it open, he laid his head back down.
He was tired, but restless, a combination that made him feel that more drained. He had thought punctual medicine intake and naps would take the edge of this exhaustion. After all, sleep was the most important thing for his body to have while recuperating, and he was getting it. An adequate amount, he thought. But then again, L also knew he could sleep and take all the medicine he wanted, but it was not going to do anything for him psychologically.
Looking up at the screen again, L found the email open. The message was from Wedy and it was comprised of only one sentence:
I found it.
L sat up and stared at the screen, his headache worsening.
Friday, March 11, 3:56 pm
…………………………
There was a shinigami in his doorway.
Holding Misa's retrieved notebook by the corners, L quietly stared at it.
"An apple, you got an apple?" the god of death asked, his eyes ravenous as they appraised the room for anything red and heart-shaped. When he was finished, he looked back at him, expectantly.
"An apple?" L questioned, suddenly realizing something.
He let go off a small laugh.
"Hey buddy, people usually don't laugh when death is on their doorstep."
"Yes," L agreed, moving carefully towards the slouched figure in front of him. "But I have suddenly found out that he actually does possess a sense of humor -- albeit a twisted one." L put his hand out and smiled at the god of death.
"It is nice to meet you, Ryuuk."
………………………
"Thanks," Ryuuk said enthusiastically as L handed him an apple.
He watched him devour it in less than three bites, large white teeth flashing in the light before he closed his mouth. "You got no idea how much I needed that," the shinigami said, eyeballing the crate of apples that L had asked Watari to purchase. "Apples in the shinigami realm just aren't the same."
"Would you like another?" L asked, curiously watching eyes that mirrored and surpassed his own in size.
"Yeah, you don't look like you'd eat any so I'll take them for you."
L picked up another apple and held it out for him, inquiring as the fruit was plucked from his hands, "So you are Raito's shinigami?"
Ryuuk practically shoved the entire apple into his mouth, munching loudly, juice and tiny bits of it flying everywhere. "Huh? Oh yeah, I'm not really his, but you know…I gave him a notebook."
"You personally gave it to him?"
Ryuuk chuckled and L could not help but notice his odd laugh. "Well no…I just threw it down and waited for someone to pick it up."
L handed over another apple to keep the conversation going. He had read over the rules and it did not seem like a fair trade for any shinigami to lose a notebook to a human. "Why would you do such a thing?"
More of those odd "hyuks" escaped past that gaping mouth.
"I was bored."
L stared at the shinigami, astonished with an answer that he had received on more than one occasion from Raito. Regaining his wits, he looked down at his hand as it reached into the small wooden crate for another apple.
"Then Boredom has to certainly be the most frightening motivator in our universe." L gingerly placed the red fruit on his desk. "But I am having a hard time believing that it was unintentional that Raito was the one to come upon the notebook." It was too perfect in a way.
"Don't look at me," Ryuuk said, floating over to his desk. "I couldn't have guessed where stuff lands when dropped from the hole in the sky. It falls wherever it falls, you know…"
Good god, L thought. It was remarkable how one careless endeavor could cause so much disaster. How insignificant their lives were when one bored shinigami could have so much sway in their world.
"It was a good thing too," Ryuuk chuckled. He was picking up the apple from L's desk. "Eventually, everybody's scared away when they learn what it can do, but heh, he went right for it. All those people in one day, I was impressed…"
"Yes…Raito is special," L echoed. "Very special…" He could not help but think that without any of these events, these exact events, he would have never been able to meet Raito. They were from such different worlds that it wasn't possible for either one of them to have met in their lifetimes.
There was no doubt that Raito would have worked himself up to the highest position in the NPA or any other agency he saw fit to bless his presence with. But his true genius, and not the jaded intellect he used on a daily basis, would have been hidden away. The one that would place everything it had on the line to defend his beliefs, that would fight tooth and nail to get what he wanted when he deemed it worthy, and that needed to be continually tested so Raito knew he was alive.
Raito was a sociopath, yes, but as far as perfection went, there was no one closer.
"I might have to thank you, shinigami-san --"
"Huh?" Ryuuk said, a little bug-eyed.
"And curse you eternally," L finished with a smile.
"Uh, that's okay," the death god told him. "I don't really know anything about that…but you guys sure do know how to have a blast. Raito really knows how to have fun…giving me apples, letting me watch interesting stuff, playing Mario-cart with me," he recounted. "Humans really are the best." Chuckling deeply, he began to float towards the other end of the room. "But I don't plan on sticking around for too long, Raito's caught and my fun should be ending soon, so you know…"
"I doubt your fun will ever end," L told him.
"No, I get really bored when I have to go back to the shinigami realm." Ryuuk suddenly stopped, peering down at the floor. "So I should be getting out of here now – and I'll be taking what I came for."
"Hmm?" L asked, more alert than before. "And what would that be?"
"Raito." Chuckling some more as he caught the stunned look on L's face, Ryuuk dropped down to the floor, beginning to phase through it.
"WAIT!" L shouted, moving forward suddenly and trying to grab a hold of the shinigami's long, black arm. His hand passed right through it, but the motion seemed to get the death god's attention, and with half his body sticking up from the floor, Ryuuk turned to him. "What's up?"
"What do you mean by that?"
Ryuuk looked puzzled, then, "Oh, me and Raito have a contract. I'm the one that gets to write his name down in my deathnote when I think it's his time to go. That's pretty much it…so see ya –"
"Wait!" L called, but Ryuuk had already disappeared through the floor, his destination Raito's cell. Not giving it another thought, L practically flew out the room, moving towards the elevator. He nearly slammed into the doors trying to stop and frantically began pressing the button. "C'mon, c'mon." L reached into his back pocket –
The doors slid open and he quickly entered. He hit the speed dial for Watari's cellphone. "Pick up the phone," he mumbled and wished everything would just go faster.
"Yes?"
"Move Raito," L ordered, glancing up to check what floor he was on.
"Where would you --?"
"Just move him!" L shouted and compulsively pressed the button for basement floor. "I don't have time to explain myself, just move him as far as you can from his current cell." Accidentally dropping the phone when the doors chimed open, but not bothering to pick it up, L dashed out into the maze that was the second-basement floor.
Thankfully, as he finally came to the room, he saw Watari walking out the door with Raito, blind-folded and in handcuffs. When the older man looked to him for an explanation, L made a motion for him to continue moving on.
Ryuuk was in Raito's cell by the time L unlocked it, scratching his head and looking more than confused. "I could have sworn this was the place you put him in," he said comically, but which L was not laughing. He turned in his direction. "You made it down here pretty fast."
"Yes, I did," L told him, voice breathless, the anxiety of the moment more of a factor to his state than the trek in his wheelchair. Ryuuk gazed at him oddly, his gangly arms dangling down at his sides as if superfluous. He strode towards him, but L knew the shinigami was more interested in the door and phasing through it.
"Wait," L said, trying to stay calm.
"You keep saying that," Ryuuk pointed out.
"That's because I wish to speak to you." L knew how dangerous it was to try and reason with this shinigami. He did not seem partial to anyone but himself and his boredom. He could very well write L's name down in his notebook and no repercussions would take place, not like they would have for Rem. This in front of him. This was what an actual shinigami was supposed to be like. A true god of death.
And L was doing something very stupid and standing in his way. "I have to be truthful. You say you've come down here to take Raito's life, but it seems unfair that I've worked on this case to the bitter end, and yet I'm denied what I set out to do."
"Unfair? That's interesting," Ryuuk chuckled. "But what does that have to do with me?"
"Shinigami-san, you are stealing my thunder," L explained simply. "You might not see it that way – as I doubt you care to understand the human ego –"
"Not one bit," Ryuuk answered, pulling out his deathnote, and looking up at him. A wide grin suddenly stretched across the god's face. "Heh. Don't tell me you believed him. Raito says that 'I love you' business to everyone he uses."
L flinched.
"You shouldn't take it personal, buddy. He likes to use 'the destiny' one a lot too. Used that one a bunch of times on all his girlfriends. I thought you were supposed to be smarter, eh? I guess humans really are a sucker for that love word." More of those deep-throated cackles erupted from the shinigami. "He really had you eating out of his palm there. I didn't think Raito could pull it off, but that should teach me to doubt him."
L felt suddenly irritated; this shinigami was proving to be as obnoxious as his past owner. But it would not do to let it outwardly affect him, especially when he had more important things to discuss.
"Yes, but whatever may be going on between Raito and me, my pride as a detective, and admittedly as a man, should always come first. My dignity, as well as my sanity, depends on how I choose to resolve this investigation. Therefore, I do not enjoy having my opinions overridden as you are currently going to do with that notebook of yours."
Ryuuk looked down at the deathnote in his hands and then back at L.
"I feel that since I have devoted my full time and effort, and many other things towards this case for almost a year and a half now, that I am entitled to a conclusion that is completely satisfactory to me. Not to anyone else, certainly not to you," L said boldly. Ryuuk chuckled at that – this was the second time he had been told off by someone, and it never ceased to amuse him that a human, knowing exactly what he was and how easy it was to kill him, could still drum up the presence to be rude.
"What I want is for Raito to be tried and punished by human means. Even though it would satisfy a sense of overall irony for the notebook to be used on him, I do not see it as the right, just, human thing to do. If Raito must go, the electric chair or lethal injection will do, not some bored shinigami with a supernatural notebook. I have chased after Raito and I have finally caught him, and as such, I strongly feel that his life now belongs to me – as does his death."
"Human lives belonging to other humans," Ryuuk chuckled. "You guys are nothing but fodder for us…"
"Yes, I am well-aware of how insignificant my life is to your kind, but all I ask is for you to hear me out."
"Hear you out? You got more in there?" Floating closer, Ryuuk bowed his face towards him, eyes searing into his own. "Something interesting…?" he asked, still moving ever closer.
"If you are willing to listen…"
A/n: I find it quaint that they're arguing over who gets first dibs to kill Raito. You see how popular he is. You know, I love it how deathnote time-skips (they'd have to since it's a short manga) I just find it funny how one moment you're in 2004, and in the next panel your in 2009 and watching Raito run around in a business suit and being all sexy double-agent guy… Wow, where'd that come from…?
1. Paradise Lost – a 17th century epic poem by John Milton following the protagonist, archangel Lucifer, as he rebels against heaven, is banished to Hell with the other fallen angels, and then decides to take his vengeance out on God's creations, Adam and Eve, by getting their asses thrown out of Eden. I recommend reading the novel versionby Joseph Lanzara, as it's a helluva lot easier :) The quotes below are all from the Novel:
a. "Oh most precious of all trees in Paradise, worthy of highest praise, henceforth often shall I ease the burden of your branches, fill on your diet I grow mature in knowledge, as a god who knows all things…" – Eve says this right before she eats the apple. In the novel, she's tempted by the ideas that Satan puts in her head that if she eats from the tree of knowledge she will transform into a God and she will be smarter and better than Adam, therefore drawing more of his admiration. She also appears to be intrigued with flight and is pretty confident of herself. Hmm, sounds like someone we know…
b. "Adam shall share with me, whether in bliss or woe. So dear I love him that with him all deaths I could endure, without him, live no life." - Eve
c. "Do you see in me a corpse, Adam, for such grief your words and face express? Yet I feel twice alive and awake as before. Or can it be that already I transcend to levels above man's low perception." – Eve, she says this after Adam laments out loud over her sin. Again, all she's thinking about is if she's become a God yet.
d. "With unrelenting pride and steadfast hate, though in pain, to his battered partner hoarsely he proclaimed: Neither for this, nor for what else his powerful rage can inflict, will I repent or change! Though outwardly I may be changed, not so in my fixed mind, nor my disdain, or sense of injustice which raised me to contend with the mightiest." Lucifer, now Satan, says this after he's thrown from Heaven and wakes up in the fiery pits of Hell. He's cursing God.
2. Prince of East – One of the four princes of Hell in the Satanic Bible. It's another name for Lucifer, who represents air, light, intellectualism and enlightenment. You see where I'm going with this allusion too…
3. Prince of South – Satan. The other princes are Belial of North and Earth, and Leviathan of West and Water.