A/N: Oh how I love hearing what you're all thinking! It makes me happy and excited.
Disclaimer: I don't own Death Note.
Chapter 5
Light Yagami had barely been in the city of London, England for two hours, and already he was missing San Francisco. He missed the salt, the crisp morning fog, and the sound of cable cars slipping along brick paved streets. To him, London was trite. The streets were laid about randomly, without any thought to access or ease of transportation. On an atavistic level Light was admittedly filled with some amount of respect for the city's historical aspects. The architecture was beautiful, in fact it was astounding that the buildings had survived through the years of humanities wearing and tearing on them. But Light couldn't bring himself to take in the sights. As the cab he was in bounced uncomfortably through a pot hole, Light could only conclude that London paled in comparison with San Francisco.
But then again, he thought as he vacated the cab, that assessment could very well have more to do with what he was about to do than the city he was about to do it in.
Nodding to the Hotel doorman, he pulled his suitcase behind him and headed for the reception desk. He already knew he had a penthouse suite, though again, he had no idea how that bit of extravagance had been pulled through. Nor did he really want to know.
"Checking in sir?" the receptionist asked, a large fake smile plastered across her face with copious amounts of makeup.
Light fought the urge to cringe as the woman appraised him appreciatively and he nodded stiffly. "Yagami."
"Oh," she cooed in what he hoped wasn't supposed to be a seductive tone. "The penthouse. Well, if there's anything you need Mr. Yagami, don't hesitate to ask." She winked and handed him the key.
Light smiled tightly, but said nothing, not wanting to risk spewing the bile that rose in his throat all over the marble lobby. Heading for the elevator, he glanced around the brilliantly lit vestibule silently. Plush chairs surrounded a large fire place situated across from the front desk. No flames were currently lit, but the subtle tinge of smoke that hung in the air informed him that the embers had only just gone out. The marble that coated the walls, ceiling, and floor was beige, and artfully coated with a large oriental rug that ran from the revolving glass doors to the elevators.
There was only the one way out of the hotel, Light noticed grimly. One had to enter and, most importantly, exit through the front door, unless one wanted to jump from a window.
He rode the elevator to the suite in silence, twenty four floors. With a sigh of relief the doors dinged open and admitted him into a quaint hallway with one set of wide double doors glaring at him. Exhausted, he tugged the luggage across the short five steps to the door, swiftly swiping the key card into the automated lock. The doors broke open and Light practically fell through the threshold, only to stop dead in his tracks.
"Holy shit Sayu…" His eyes widened in shock as they swept across the room. Light beach wood extended across the floor in a thousand panels, stretching to windows that took up the entirety of the walls, framed with dark polished mantels. The center of the room dipped down three steps into a circular, carpeted pit, complete with caramel colored leather couches and a white coffee table. To the left of the pit was a spiral staircase Light assumed led to the bedroom.
Leaving his things by the door he moved to the kitchen and started flipping cabinets open at random, ignoring the basket of fruit and platter of cheese that sat invitingly on the black, marble island. He growled as he popped open cabinet after cabinet, snarling as he was met with porcelain plates, wine glasses, and even a bottle of scotch, but the coffee pot he searched for remained elusive. There were several bags of freshly ground coffee lining the counter space, but no pot. Slamming the last door shut he glanced around for a phone.
Light had stomped his way into the living space, quickly pacing around the dining area for anything remotely resembling a coffeepot before his pocket began vibrating. Pulling the thin cell phone from the folds of his trousers, he smiled as his sister's name flashed across the screen, irritation with his lack of caffeine forgotten. Flipping the phone open he set it to his ear and opened his mouth only to be accosted by a loud shout of excitement.
"Light!" His sister's voice shattered the exhaustion that had set about his brain, effectively waking him up. "You like the place?" He could practically see her bouncing as she asked the question.
"Sayu, it's-"
"Amazing I know!" She chirped before he could actually answer.
"Actually I was going to say unessesary, but if you want me to lie to you I can do that."
"Hey," she protested, though he could hear the smile in her voice. "Don't you dare mess with me Yagami Raito. Not at this moment in time."
He smirked at the threatening tone that had overtaken her but kept his comments to himself. "Right, so what am I doing tomorrow then?"
"Oh, you're having brunch with us!"
"Brunch?" he asked, struggling to keep the disbelieving contempt from his voice.
"Yes, it's what happy couples do apparently so you'll be coming with us, and some of his family will be there too," she explained quickly. "It's at Zaika on Kensington Road, be there at eight. Afterwards will be the rehearsal. Now I love you and I'm glad you're here, but I've gotta go! See you tomorrow Onii-Chan!"
"Wait, Sayu, eight in the morning?" he nearly shouted into the phone, only to be met with silence. She'd hung up on him.
Clenching the phone tightly it took a lot of restraint not to throw the offensive thing on the ground and stomp it into nothing but metal dust. There was no way he was getting up to go to brunch at eight in the morning. Wasn't the point of brunch to be in between the hours of breakfast and lunch. Just when the hell did eight am fall into that time slot?
Shaking his head irately, he reminded himself that this was only the beginning. From here things would only get worse, never mind that it was supposed to be a happy occasion. Apparently the Yagami family just didn't do happy all that well.
He fell backwards onto the couch, buttery leather welcoming his body into its folds. As he stared at the white ceiling, the warm glow of light glaring into his face, he recalled the name of the restaurant he'd be going to.
Zaika. It was an Indian restaurant.
With a groan he rolled over, pushing his face into the couch. Yes, this could only get worse.
3B
The clacking of keys was getting on Matt's nerves. It'd been one hour since he and Near had arrived at the hotel and he'd only been addressed by L once. The man hadn't said anything about Mello, or what he and Near would be doing now that they in fact were here. So Matt had settled himself across the plush loveseat, eyes closed behind orange tinted goggles. On the inside he was a tumult of aggression and disdain. Every strike of L's fingers on the keyboard was like a light punch in the gut, not a heart wrenching pain, but enough of an annoyance to make him grind his teeth together irately.
The man before him was not what he's been expecting whenever he drew a picture of The World's Greatest Detective in his head. In fact, the man he and Near had been introduced to looked more like the illegitimate child of the Witch everyone would rather leave for dead and The Grudge, and that was putting it lightly. To be honest, Matt didn't know why his mental construction of L was the way it was. He envisioned a man in a trench coat with a hat that would make Holden Caulfield proud, the stereotypical, iconic image of Sherlock Holmes. Hell, he'd half expected to be dragged down some hidden passageway on 211B Baker Street. Now, with the actual article faced before him, he was kicking himself for his own stupidity. As if Wammy's House was capable of turning out something so generic.
Near had seated himself on the floor in front of Matt, an array of brightly colored legos stacking themselves into skyscrapers around him. The clearing of somebody's throat startled Matt and he turned to view Watari who stood in the doorway of the kitchen, a tray in his hands. L and Near didn't even acknowledge the butler.
"Would you like anything to eat?" the founder of Wammy's House asked. Like L, the elder gentleman had not been what Matt was expecting. In fact he hadn't even made the connection that Watari and Quillish Wammy were the same person. No doubt Near and Mello had known, them being the ones to pay enough attention to L's casework and connect those dots. He knew Wammy would be old too. But he found it difficult to place the man acting as nothing more than a butler to the man who single handedly controlled the world's justice system. Matt didn't know about anyone else but if he were a multibillionaire inventor he'd be rather flamboyant about the whole thing, as in walking down the street in a fur coat and pimp hat, just because he could.
"No, I am fine Watari," Near replied emotionlessly, carefully mounting another lego atop his tower. It was beginning to take the shape of Big Ben.
"Matt?" Watari turned to look at Matt, an inviting smile on his face.
"Uh, can I have a sandwich?" he asked slowly.
"Of course," the man nodded. "And I shall fetch the usual for you L."
The hunched over detective nodded but didn't turn from his work and continued typing.
As Watari returned to the kitchen Matt felt another tinge of annoyance. Acting on it he stood and moved to stand directly behind L's plush, swivel chair. That got Near's attention. Lego's forgotten, the albino quietly observed the altercation that was about to take place.
"Shouldn't we be doing something?" Matt asked, trying to sound as polite and respectful as possible. But damn was it hard.
They typing stopped for a second, and then continued again. "We are doing something."
Matt stared hard at the back of L's head. "…then exactly are we doing?"
"Waiting."
Matt nodded his head tersely. "So we're doing nothing?"
L finally stopped typing and swiveled around to stare up at Matt. "As much as I hate to say it, we have very little to work with at the moment. The note has no traces of evidence, and no one got a license plate number on the sports car. That makes finding it difficult."
"Why can't we draw Beyond out?" Matt asked, running a hand through his hair in frustration.
"Because L doesn't want the authorities involved," Near responded quietly, gently setting another lego atop his Big Ben monument.
"So we're just going to wait until Mello ends up in a ditch somewhere!" Matt protested incredulously.
L scowled internally at the boy's sharp words, though his face remained passively neutral. He recalled Roger mentioning something about Mello and Matt having a sort of codependence on each other in the files he'd sent over.
…Mello and Matt are incredibly reliant on one and other. At first the instructors thought it was a good thing, considering Mello's volatile nature, to have him associate someone calm and collected. Not to mention when it comes to reigning Mello in, Matt is the only House resident who's been able to get through the child's thick skull and effectively shut him up. But their relationship has since progressed into something that may prove to be a danger to them both. I do not think they would be effectively able to operate without one and other, nor do I think a moment will come where they will ever want to.
It concerned him. By the looks of Rogers report the two were dangerously dependant on each other. Though Matt's feelings for Mello would explain the boy's lack of effort in his classes. He managed to maintain third position in the race for the title of L, which was enough to keep Mello's interest in him alive, but low enough not to make an enemy out of the hot-blooded teenager as Near obviously had. As it stood, L could not see how the pink haired teen was calm and collected, he came across as more snippy and caustic. Though L hardly blamed the kid, he knew if he'd been sporting strawberry pink hair he'd been a little less than cooperative as well.
Narrowing his eyes in thought, L decided it was time to test the bond between the two boys.
"I fail to see why you are so concerned over Mello's wellbeing. You don't even know his real name, how can you possibly know anything of consequence about him?"
L barely had time to regret what he'd said as a fist connected with the side of his head, knocking him out of the chair and onto the floor. The detective supposed that he could be a little to rash in his manipulative tests at times.
Detangling his limbs he looked up at Matt with mild surprise. "Ouch."
The pink haired teen seethed, his breath coming in erratic gasps as he held back the urge to beat the crap out of the sickly thing before him. There was no way this man was the person Mello had idolized his entire life. No way was this callous bastard was even worth the thoughts Mello had devoted to him.
"You- you- I can't- you- you suck!" Matt finally stuttered out, the words not as insulting as he would have liked, but the basic point was there. "And you have no right to say I have no idea who Mello is. I know everything about his skinny, reckless ass, more than you could ever hope to understand. And don't you dare say otherwise because I know for a fact I wouldn't be here if that weren't the case!" Matt paused, glaring heatedly at L and waiting for his words to sink in. "And because I know Mello so well," he continued, "I know that Beyond Birthday better be watching his own fucking ass because there is no way he'll get one up on Mells. Not a chance in even the seventh level of hell, which is the violent one. So no!"
L blinked, of course the boy would come to that conclusion. It was partially the reason he'd brought Matt to London, because of his friendship with Mello. L climbed calmly back into his chair, adopting the same crouch that had Matt thinking he was part frog. But apparently the bond between the two was strong enough, at least from this end it was strong enough to resort to violence. Ultimately, L figured the emotion would work in his favor as long as he channeled it correctly.
"Then you have nothing to worry about," the detective commented. "If you are confident that Mello can withstand B I'm sure he will."
Matt brought his fist back with the intention of hitting the man once more only to have a foot go flying into his stomach. With a gasp he fell backwards, skidding across the floor until his back connected with the couch.
"That is why we should devise a self defense course for the Wammy curriculum," L stated as Watari rolled a cart of food into the living room. "Too many people swiping at me with wild fists."
Watari chuckled as Matt found his way back onto the couch. If he hadn't expected L's appearance to be what it was, he had been expecting the man's strength even less. No doubt there would be a bruise the size of L's foot on his stomach by morning.
Watari began unloading pastries along the desk L was situated in. A two tier chocolate cake with an intricate design of swirls and spirals, a plate of chocolate chip cookies, strawberry scones, a strawberry cheesecake, and an assortment of brownies. L absentmindedly picked a brownie from the mass of teeth rotting deliciousness. At that point Matt didn't even have the strength or the patience to contemplate the food L was ingesting and just nodded in thanks as Watari placed a sandwich in front of him.
Washing his brownie down with a large bite of cheese cake, L turned to Matt. "I admit this is not the most desirable of situations to begin a case with. In fact, as this point I'd say Beyond had won the first round. But it won't be long until the man makes another move."
"You're gambling with someone's life here L," Matt said gravely.
"Yes, well, you'll find I do that quite a bit."
3B
Light was beginning to rethink not acquiring an International Driver's License. Riding in cabs across London was not the most comfortable method of transportation, it was a nauseating one. Or maybe it was just the conversation occurring between him and Naomi that had him on edge. He really needed to block the woman's number. That or Raye needed to knock her up, he was tired of having her mothering instinct subjected upon him. Weren't there any other rookie recruits she could cluck at?
"Light," she sighed once more, changing her point of attack. "You know the Bureau would have given you time off to attend your sister's wedding."
He blinked in mild surprise before mentally cursing. "How did you find out?"
"I am a federal investigator Raito," she said sternly. "It's my job to find out. And there is no way you would have just quit your job to attend a wedding. What's going on Light? This is stupid, especially with -"
"Naomi, I'm on vacation," he interrupted as the cab pulled into the front of the restaurant he was meeting Sayu at. "I'm here to relax and spend time with my sister. Leave me alone."
"I'll find out what's going on Light. I will." And she hung up.
'That's just what I'm afraid of,' he thought before pasting a nice, charismatic smile on his face and entered the newest level of curry smelling hell.
For an Indian restaurant, Zaika was not what he'd been expecting. The room was bathed in bright, warm light, hardwood floors reflecting the beams of light onto green-olive walls and a high, white ceiling. A sleek bar took up the corner of the restaurant, rows of wine and expensive liquors begging to be uncorked. The rest of the area was sprinkled with white, linen table clothes, high backed, deep red chairs, and porcelain dishware. Taking a tentative sniff he was pleased to note the lack of thick curry, instead inhaling the refreshing scent of light basil. Apparently Sayu did have some semblance of taste.
"LIIIGHHTTTT!" But quiet the girl was not.
He looked up and smiled as a petite, Asian woman waved wildly for him from the back of the restaurant. Sayu was waiting at the back of the restaurant, a small cluster of people surrounding her. Two were men, one of which had his hand firmly clasped in Sayu's own. Light's eyes were briefly drawn to the large rock sparkling up from his sister's finger, and he couldn't help but smile, even though he felt his heart pull at the sparkling sight. A slender woman stood off to the side of his sister's fiancé, dyed blond hair pulled back in a simple bun, dressed in a conservative, grey business suite. The two men were adorned in a similar fashion. It was enough to make his sister stand out vividly, her pink sundress a stark contrast from the muted tones of business attire.
"Oh, I'm so glad you came Onii-Chan!" Sayu moved forward and enveloped her brother in a hug, squeezing around his waist tightly. Light returned the gesture enthusiastically.
"You've been engaged for almost half a decade Sayu," he said, smiling down at her and just taking her in. Out of everyone in his family, Sayu was the only one who he'd never fully understood, and for that he cherished her. "That's half a decade of me being constantly being harassed by Matsuda Touta, of course I came Sayu."
His sister made a face at the police officer's name. "Way to ruin a happy reunion Light."
A polite clearing of the throat interrupted the two and Sayu turned to face her boyfriend inquisitively. "We'll be waiting inside Sayu," he said with a smile, nodding to Light as he led the other two strangers into the banquet room.
She nodded sweetly and waited for them to disappear from view before she rounded on Light. "You think I should have stayed with Matsuda," she accused blithely.
"I think it's your decision," Light replied stiffly, knowing they needed to get this out of the way before he was properly introduced to his future brother in-law.
"Oh, so you're just against the fact that I'm marrying him."
"Honestly, yes, yes I am," he said, meeting her glare with a sharp look of his own. "Not to mention the fact that once Dad finds out you're married to The Notorious One, and that I was here to give you away, I'll end up with a bullet in my head."
"Mom would stop him," she said with a roll of her eyes despite knowing just as well as he did that their father shooting his own son was a distinct possibility.
"Yeah, and then she'll make me wish he actually had put a bullet through my head."
"Raito," the syllables of his name slipped through her lips. "You're the one who arranged all this, the travel, the villas and apartments, and the eventual fact that we'd all end up here."
"Yeah, I know." He deflated at the exhausted tone of her voice. "And why I even enable you to go through this circus is a mystery to me."
She brightened at the quip, knowing she'd won the argument. "I think it's because you love me!"
"No, I don't think that's it."
She pouted but laughed, winding her arms around his arm. Shaking his head at the girl's antics, he nodded towards the banquet room, "Come on, show me who's already here."
She led him into the banquet room, which contained a single, long table that seated about fourteen people. Food was set out across the white table cloth, steaming and fresh. Laughter filled the room, as minor conversations took place between the members of the bridal party. The three individuals Sayu had been chatting with before his arrival were situated at the head of the table, the blonde nursing and tall glass of champagne. She was the only person in the room who looked displease with being there.
"Raito, this is my fiancé Hachirou Junko, Hachi-kun, this is my brother Raito," Sayu introduced. Light smiled tightly as he gripped the hand of the man who was about to wed his baby sister, fighting the urge to shoot him in the face. What older brother didn't go to meet his sister's fiancé without at least a 9mm securely tucked away?
Sayu seemed to sense Light's distaste for the man as she quickly averted his attention to the unhappy blonde. "This is his sister, Rei. And this is his brother Kotone."
"Hello, it's a pleasure to finally meet you all," Light said politely, extending his hand to Rei. She sneered at him and took a sip of her Champaign.
"Rei," Hachirou hissed, a look of mild rage falling across his eyes. But as quickly as it was there, it was gone. The man had to be a master of his emotions considering his line of work.
"What?" she snapped. "They're civilians," she stressed the word 'civilian' as if it were a piece of dung someone had thrust beneath her nose. Light raised an eyebrow at the petulant woman, but her comments didn't end there. "Not to mention it's a joke for you to even be marrying this girl at all, let alone for you to see her walk down an aisle in white."
Light had never wanted to hit a girl so much before. Sadly though, his sister beat him to it, which admittedly was a bit more socially acceptable, not to mention sent a wave of pride through him. The harsh slap echoed through the dining room loudly, effectively ceasing all conversation and drawing the attention of the rest of the bridal party. Sayu's eyes burned with a mix of emotions, none of them at all positive ones. Her fists were balled tighter that rubber band balls, ready to spring back up and deliver a beautiful new style of eye shadow to her future sister in law's left eye, one that would be lasting about a week.
"I happen to like wearing white bitch!" Sayu snapped snidely, skipping forward and taking her fiancé's hand in apparent mocking. Light was surprised she resisted the urge to stick her tongue out at the vile woman.
Rei's eyes widened as she regarded Sayu in stunned astonishment. She turned to her brother as if expecting him to do something in her favor, but he just wrapped his arm protectively around Sayu's waste, causing Light to smirk. In utter disbelief, Rei whipped around and stalked from the room, her heels clicking angrily across the wood floor. The moment the door shut behind her applause broke out from the rest of the bridal party.
"And you made her a bridesmaid why?" Light glanced at Hachirou's other sibling. The man looked like a carbon copy of his brother, except for his hair which was a dark black, a slight difference from Hachirou's own brown locks.
"I thought it'd be fun to make her wait on me," Sayu replied flippantly. "Now, let's eat!"
3B
He watched the petulant woman stalk from the restaurant and out onto the street. Tears were welling up in her eyes, but he felt no amount of sympathy for the little cunt. He'd never had much respect for people who dyed their hair bleach blonde anyway. It was always better when natural, he thought, thinking back to the boy he'd left bound and gagged at his place.
The woman moved towards the parking garage situated a few blocks away. Peeling back into the alley way he moved through the back alley of the streets, headed in the same direction. The layout of the area was pretty well mapped out in his mind. It was eight in the morning too, which meant that few people would be out and about. Things were always harder when he had to worry about an audience. More amusing yes, but there was always the danger of turning one harmless murder into a mass homicide, which never reflected well on his sanity.
He followed her into the concrete structure lithely, keeping silent and out of line of her peripheral vision. She stopped at her car and leaned against the side door, the sound of her deep, calming breaths moving like chainsaws on his ears. He really didn't like her. The three inch stilettos would be much better suited to being rammed through her chest, just below her heart. He'd let her bleed, the blood running in a slow river across the parking lot's asphalt, blending in with the oil stains and dirt. And she'd be panting, crying even harder, her tears diluting the blood with salt.
As it was, she didn't make any noise at all as he grabbed her from behind. She was too skinny, he noted dully, as the knife plunged its way into the small of her back. The searing pain sent her into shock, the bones in her body quacking against the muscle spasms until she fell unconscious, head lolling back against his shoulder. She was weak, no fun at all. The perfect victim was one that fought, screamed, gave reaction as their body was mutilated. The greatest victim was the one that remained silent through the torture, accepting their fate with a mocking grin at their assailant. But those victim types remained as nothing more than mythical figures in the lighter portions of Beyond's imagination. When he'd seen her come from the restaurant he'd been hoping for a new experiment, but she was nothing more than a letdown. He comforted himself with the fact that he'd have more opportunities later.
The blood that had gushed from the stab wound now coated his hand like a vinyl glove. Dropping her body to the ground he examined the knife critically. Even her blood was dull in color. Kneeling down he methodically removed a stiletto from the girl's foot, smiling as he saw that the sole of the shoe was as red as the blood now collecting beneath her car. Drool ran from the corner of her mouth, swirling into the crimson liquid that saturated her clothing. Whit a snort of disdain Beyond knelt beside the body, a sinuous chill running up his spine as his sneakers made a soft splash in the blood. He could feel the liquid seeping through the canvas of his shoes, warmly ghosting against his toes.
Flipping the girl's body over, he rammed the spike of the heel into the girl's back just hard enough to leave a faint impression, yet with not so much force that he'd stab her again. A large portion of him wished that the pain would wake her up, but he knew it was unlikely given the liters of red that now decorated the parking space. But he continued with his patter, ramming the heel into her back, grinning all the while.
In the end it was one of the easiest kills he'd made.
3B
Beyond sauntered back into the ballroom only to halt in face of the murderous glare he was met with. Taking in the sight of the irritated blonde B burst out laughing.
"Okay, fine, go ahead and laugh you fucking asswhipe," Mello snipped.
Beyond graced him with a large smile before walking further into the room, pulling his bloodied shit over his head and depositing it on the floor as he went. He had to have a stash of clothing somewhere, Mello knew, he just wasn't sure where. It left his thoughts of escape looking rather bleak, the ballroom being a beautiful platform that dropped off into god knew where. If he made it out of the gilded hall he'd be nothing more than a blind mouse in a maze. Algernon without any flowers.
"I am not an asswipe," B stated. "I am an asshole. There's quite a difference in job description there."
With a growl Mello rocked back and forth in the chair Beyond had left him in, pulling against the chains and tape that were wound about his chest, legs, and arms. He was way past humiliation at this point. Never mind that he'd been treated as nothing more than a crippled plaything at the hands of a childish monster, but said monster had made quick work of him. As soon as B had dragged the chair through the double doors, rolls of tape falling down his arms like bangles, Mello had run, only to be tackled with an elbow straight to the back of his neck. He'd balked out and woke up bound to a rocking chair. It had been an uncomfortable few hours to say the least.
"So you won't torture me, but you will chain me to a chair with duct tape, electrical wire, and rusted iron links?" Mello snapped humorlessly as the serial killer made no move to untie the teenager.
Beyond paused in his trek across the room to stare at his hostage uncertainly. "Is that not the point of a kidnapping?"
Mello decided it had been a stupid question. "So who did you kill? A pregnant woman, little boy and his puppy, or did you forego the personal touch and just blow up a retirement home?" he asked sweetly.
Beyond cocked his head to the side and smiled that demented grin of his that Mello was becoming way to familiar with. Moving a red checker piece, now stained with B's bloody thumb print, to stand in front of the chocolate monster, B replied with a simple nod of accomplishment. "I killed you."
3B
The lunch was progressing nicely, Sayu thought with a smile as a slice of Coconut Burfi was placed before her by a waiter. The mix of almond and coconut taunted her taste buds sweetly. Softly spearing a corner of the dessert with her fork she let out a sigh of contentment as the exotic flavors met her tongue, heightened by the low murmur of conversation that echoed around her and the fact that her fiancé and brother had yet to kill each other. The last part was only natural she supposed, given that the two worked on opposite sides of the law. But still, it was nice to not see blood staining the table cloth of her rehearsal brunch.
How was that for untraditional? A rehearsal brunch, not a dinner, but a tacky mixture of breakfast and dinner. After a five year long engagement consisting of running from the authorities, and more importantly, her father, she was finally able to settle down and get what she wanted. As much as it pained her to admit it, she owed her brother big time. Not that that would ever be admitted out loud, but it warranted the purchase of a yearlong supply of Starbuck's finest.
The soft vibrations from her dress pocket distracted her from the heated debate take place between her brother and fiancé. Pulling out the phone she flipped it open and pressed the speaker to her ear.
"Hey Kyo, you know you didn't have to go after her," Sayu said, fondly noting her best friend's good nature. "None of us would really mind if Rei stayed -"
"Sayu, she's dead."
A/N: Longest chapter yet! I feel pretty proud of myself.
Okay, about the Indian food. I mean no offense, and I'm sorry if I seem to be bashing on it, but I take pleasure in making Light suffer at the hand of food. I wanted him to be continuously subjected to a type of food he hated, and Indian Cuisine is what came out of the hat. It isn't personal.
As for murdering people with a pair of Christian Louboutin's, that I have no qualms over.
As always, thanks for reading. Please review.