Point of Succession Chapter 6, a death note fanfic

A/N: Thank you to everyone who as read, reviewed, and alerted this fic! I really appreciate it!

Disclaimer: I don't own Death Note

Chapter 6

Matt glared at his reflection in the mirror, L and Near appraising him expressionlessly from the double bed. "I can't believe I'm doing this," he declared, fumbling furiously with the black uniform he was being forced to wear. "You don't actually do this do you?"

"Wear ridiculous outfits?" L responded dully, eyes moving over Matt's body critically. "No I don't, but we're shorthanded at the moment and this is the most I can allow to have done. I don't trust a regular Bobby to investigate and deal directly with the authorities, so you'll be going instead."

Matt resisted the urge to snort at the term 'Bobby.' It made him sound like a dog on a dash board and, examining himself in the mirror, he couldn't help but think he looked just as ridiculous. "But do I seriously have to wear this?" the teen grouched, turning to face his mentor.

L looked at him with wide, blank eyes. "I figured since your hair was pink you wouldn't object to looking ridiculous."

Oh, so the man did have a sense of humor, Matt noted as he quelled the need to punch L once more. "If this because of my hair, than why am I wearing a wig?" His hand moved to adjust the blond hairpiece Watari had provided him with earlier.

"Bobbies don't have pink hair," Near said calmly, though Matt could see a glint of amusement burning in the younger's eyes. Sadistic little thing, Matt thought, glaring at the boy.

"Fine," Matt said, turning sharply from the two to examine his reflection for the umpteenth time. No one was going to think him a cop, not when he looked barely older than fifteen, though maybe if he walked up with a cigarette they'd think he was older. Which he was, the nicotine craving currently polluting his blood stream claimed stubbornly. The sluggish voice of tar and noxious gas had been growling for attention all morning, displeased with the thirty eight hour lack of habit. Tensely, he wiggled his hands in a vain attempt of dispelling the nerves and thinly veiled aggression.

Choosing to ignore Near's empty, challenging gaze Matt stomped from the room. No matter what was said about his hair, and no matter his own personal opinion on the subject, he was keeping the color. He'd spent a good hour that morning staring at his reflection in the glass frame hanging in his bathroom. His hands gripping so hard into the porcelain of the sink he was surprised the faucet hadn't shattered. The fuchsia coloring was a stark reminder of why he was here, not that he actually needed the pink locks to inform him that his best friend was being tortured by an insane serial killer. But Matt was a man of symbolism, or he was now at least. It was Mello's fault his hair was pink, it was Mello's fault he was in London, and it was Mello's fault he was about to spend his afternoon impersonating a cop at an Indian restaurant. If anything, the mockery and scathing comments he'd been getting from L, and oddly Near, filled a minor portion of his need for the blonde's company.

Matt's hair would be pink until he got Mello back. That needed to be soon, however, given that he'd already spotted centimeters of vibrant, red, hair beginning to sprout out of his head. His natural hair color was taunting him, reminding him that he probably didn't have much time.

L and Near followed him out of the bedroom and into the parlor where Watari had a slew of equipment laid out about a polished, wooden table. Three flat screen monitors were suspended before the windows on the other side of the table, masking the London city scape with their blank flickering.

L slouched around the table and picked up an ear piece between his thumb and forefinger. "Near and I will remain here while Watari escorts you to the restaurant. There you will be left to gather details of what happened and acquire crime scene photographs, statements, and anything else you think will be of assistance to our cause. Near and I will be watching you through the camera here, I took the liberty of getting it in a color you were partial to." L held up a small pink ribbon in between his fingers. Embedded in the ribbon was a diminutive camera lens Matt could barely make out.

"So I'm supporting the fight against cancer as well, how very hypocritical of myself," Matt commented blithely, wishing he could pull a pack of Blacks from his pocket.

Watari placed him with a disapproving look. "Cancer sticks are bad for your health young man. And I will not tolerate the stench."

Matt rolled his eyes, but chose to ignore the older man's parental concerns. He was an orphan, and Watari wasn't doing him any favors by acting the concerned grandfather. He barely knew the man as it was.

Taking the pink ribbon from L he secured it to the police uniform. "I still don't understand why you need me to go and get all this stuff for you," he spoke blithely, placing the ear piece around his left ear. "Don't you have the authority to gain this kind of information directly from the police?"

"I do actually, yes," L replied. A smug look crossed the detective's features before he continued on. "But I want this to be as under wraps as possible. I cannot risk it leaking to Beyond that I'm pursuing him. That's what he wants. I refuse to bow to the whims of a criminal."

L barely noticed Matt's raised eyebrows at this declaration, but he did observe that the boy's dark red eyebrows clashed with the wig that had been provided. It mattered little, L concluded, deciding that the boy looked the farthest thing from a cop as possible. That would either work in his favor or against it. He was lying by saying that he didn't want B to know he was moving after him. In fact, he wanted B to get the message that L was coming loudly and obnoxiously. L was choosing to stray from the long arm of the law because, frankly, the agencies he employed tended to get in the way. They were opinionated and usually against L's methods. L found that when it became apparent that his own moral compass pointed in a completely different direction than the officers the officers became a hindrance. When working with Beyond, that was the last thing he needed.

"I could hack the police database," Matt suggested, struggling to flatten his collar. "It'd be a hell of a lot more simple than this ridiculous charade you have me putting on."

"I concur with Matt," Near finally spoke out as he organized bullets into a triangle pattern across the table, looking incredibly bored with the conversation surrounding him. "He's a terrible actor. His portrayal of the Fairy Godmother in Linda's production of Cinderella was abysmal."

"Hey!" Matt protested. The boy could feel the blood pooling just beneath his cheeks, turning him the violent shade of embarrassment. "Just because I am unable to prance around in wings and sing 'bobbody bloddedly doo' does not mean I can't act like a police man. Though the latter action would be a lot better if I didn't look so ridiculous," Matt added wryly.

"It's 'bibbidy bobbedy boo' actually. And you've established your thoughts on this course of action quite well Matt, so enough griping," L ordered nonchalantly, crawling into one of the chairs surrounding the table and unwrapping a lollipop as he folded his body into its customary crouch. "Watari, can you give us the camera feed?"

The elder nodded in compliance and moved around one of the large monitors. The far left screen flickered to life with the image of the parlor, just as Matt saw it, though the line of sight was a few inches lower than his own.

"Everything looks good, thank you Watari. You and Matt may be on your way now," L responded, eyes widening in slight anticipation. Things were finally moving forward.

"Wait," Near called, running back to the bedroom before Matt and Watari could leave. The boy returned moments later with something in his hands. "Here, this completes your dress up," he said, placing a black hat with a checkerboard brim atop Matt's itching head.

"Oh thanks," Matt snapped, eyeing the hat through the fringe of synthetic hair irritating his scalp. "More of a reason to be jested."

"Darling," Beyond Birthday's voice rang out around the golden pillars that were sparingly littered throughout the ballroom he'd been renting. "I've been thinking obsessively about you for days," the man sang, swinging his body around in circles, arms outstretched and flailing through the wind as he yelled into the speaker phone. "I would really love it if you came and stayed here so I could stare at you."

Mello placed a red queen of diamonds beneath a black king of spades. Playing solitaire without a computer was as bizarre as the man dancing across the floor before him. As loathe as he was to admit it, he was beginning to tolerate Beyond Birthday, be it because he still had a mental idealization of Beyond in his head that he could identify with, or because he was developing a disturbing case of Stockholm Syndrome. Either way, the idea of growing to like B perturbed him greatly.

"Okay Darling, so maybe I was following you." Mello looked up from his cards to watch B prance around gleefully, completely out of sync with the music blaring across the hall. "But it was out of the purist of intentions, I swear! Fine fine, if you want I'll leave the rest to you." The murderer hung up and pocketed his cell phone.

"Darling not coming?" Mello drawled, moving a stack of red and black cards atop another.

Paying no regard to the comment, B continued to twirl like a dradel across the dance floor. The rough, rock music vibrating the marble flooring, the murderer's movements still not matching with the droning screams and harsh guitar chords. He moved more like a ballerina than Mello would have thought possible, but the grace was oddly suited to the man, giving him an even more foreboding and ethereal appearance than before. It made Beyond appear more dangerous that when he was just sitting on the couch leering at you.

It was no mystery what Beyond had recently done. He'd killed someone, as that was what serial killers did, and apparently this person had similar features to Mello's own. Beyond was drawing L further out of whatever metaphorical cave the detective was operating out of. And Mello was a little afraid of the degree to which he understood the man's actions.

"Why did you kidnap me?" Mello asked abruptly, looking up from his neatly placed cards. "Is it just to draw L out? What happens when he finds me?"

"You know Little Dear, I hadn't really thought that far ahead."

"Liar," Mello snapped.

B chuckled and fell to his knees, the momentum causing him to slide across the floor like a hockey puck until he came to a stop right before Mello. "You'll find I'm not the one lying in this game Little Dear."

Mello glanced up into bold, red irises. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Exactly what it sounds."

Beyond gazed levelly at the teenager, hoping the boy would yield to his anticipations and not look away. For some reason people always looked away from him when he stared at them, and B found it rather rude. It was one thing B was envious of his Darling for, the ability to hold other's attention with just a twinkle of the eye. B smirked as three minutes passed by and Mello's eyes had yet to waver from his own. This is why I'm the one with Little Dear and Darling is refusing to come home. No one was better suited to handling Mello than he was. Mello was as good as his, more than a toy, less than an obsession, the boy was his. And that would hurt Wammy.

"Out of every child at Wammy's House you are the only one L told about me. Did you ever wonder why?"

Mello opened his mouth, lips moving to form words that would defend his lifelong goal, but Beyond cut him off.

"It isn't because he thinks your worthy of being his successor Little Dear. Is that what you thought?" Beyond asked cruelly. "Did you think L cared about you?" B inhaled the rage that briefly crossed the boy's face like a drug, bathing in the noxious poison that had filled Mello's eyes. But the boy remained silent, much to B's delight. "I'm not a liar Little Dear, and I won't lie to you about this. He told you about me because you are like me, a kindred spirit if you will."

No reservoir of patience existed in Mello. This, the blonde was well aware of, and it was the reason Roger had enrolled him in multiple anger management classes throughout his adolescent years. But there was something different about speaking to Beyond Birthday. Beyond had not lied to him, but the way he used the truth, it was shameless. Twisting words and enunciating in just the right respects to gain exactly what he wanted. Distress. Beyond Birthday distressed him, because the killer was right.

"That's not the truth of the matter though, is it?" Mello said, pulling all of his anger into the depths of his core, waiting for the proper moment to release it upon the wraith kneeling before him. He refused to give the man the satisfaction of his precision.

B titled his head to the side, silently urging Mello to continue.

"Well, did L specifically tell you that?" Mello asked. B's smirk transformed into a humoring smile. "He didn't," Mello continued, his own words calming him somewhat. "Which means everything you've said is mere speculation."

Beyond nodded in avowal, letting the teenager say what he wanted. At this point he only wanted to get the boy talking. He already knew Mello was relaxing around him, growing accustomed to the situation. Now the boy just need to have the reality he'd existed in since being taken into Wammy's House ripped from him, shattered. B would break that life and take the shards of it, using the pointed edges to draw cute, little truths across Mello's pale, ivory flesh. The boy was so close to where he needed to be.

"And he didn't just tell me about you," Mello added quickly, and then wished that he'd remained silent.

The moment the words touched the air he knew they were a mistake, and he didn't need to see Beyond's victorious smile to tell him that. It was too much information, too soon, too desperate. The words rang from his mouth with the disgusting tinge of defiance and arrogance. It was exactly what Beyond wanted from him.

"Of course he didn't, that would be too suspicious." Courteously, B let the 'duh' remain a mental thought, as it would gain him no points with the boy. But that didn't mean he had to be entirely accommodating. "What stories did he tell you, hm? Did he talk about beating those other foolish detectives who challenged him, or maybe you discussed the devastating information leak that occurred in Ikebukuro?"

Beyond was fishing for a certain reaction; Mello knew enough about manipulation techniques to see that. And he was sure he was close to delivering exactly what the killer wanted. It was difficult to believe that B truly was being honest, but if he was, than why couldn't Mello be as well?

"He told me about you, and two of his other exploits," Mello admitted. "What makes you think he was using those to mask your story?"

Beyond smiled kindly, and Mello found himself unconsciously recoiling from the man as he did.

"Ah, my Little Dear, it's because you are so much like me." B said it as if it were something to be proud of. Grinding his teeth on the words, Mello fought the urge to protest, he was trying to be honest here after all. "L see's that in you, and it concerns him. More to the fact, it concerns him because Watari is the one who pointed it out to him."

"I am only partially similar to you," Mello responded evenly, dropping his gaze from Beyond's and back to his game of Solitare.

"But it's enough." B moved around Mello, crawling on his hands and the balls of his feet, moving like a demented crab. Mello stiffened as the murdered moved directly behind him. Gently, yet with a fine amount of pressure, Beyond placed his forehead on the back of Mello's kneck, his warm breath running down the back of Mello's black shirt. "You feel it too, don't you?"

The helplessness. The loneliness. The unfairness of the situation. Mello shook his head of the thoughts. He was weak, if he was going to fall prey to Beyond's ministrations this easily. If he did, he might as well kill himself now because such would make him unworthy of The Title. Mello was everything he wanted to be, everything he needed to be. He was L's successor, handpicked by one of the world's greatest inventors and confided in by the most powerful individual in global law enforcement. Nothing would change that. L's motives in telling him about Beyond Birthday didn't matter, it was all inconsequential because ultimately, Mello would be the one to decide if he wanted to take after Beyond or not. It didn't matter what he felt when he was at Wammy's, or how he regarded it. He would not falter.

"You're being rather clear in your objectives here Uzhas," the blonde muttered grimly.

B smiled at the name. "As I said before, I will not lie to you. You're far too important for that."

Matt's shoes hit the pavement with a soft thud. He shut the car door with a click and ran across the street where the Indian Restaurant he was to be looking into was situated. L had requested that Matt gain a decent look at every individual who had known the victim, given that they had no idea who the victim was. As far as Matt knew, L wasn't even one hundred percent sure that the woman who had been killed was murdered by Beyond Birthday. After glancing around the restaurant space Matt was to observe the actual crime scene. He was looking forward to that phase of his reconnaissance, this, not so much.

Arranging his features into what he hoped would pass as a 'cop face,' Matt walked into the restaurant. It seemed as if the police had had the place shut down for the day, though no crime scene tape was blocking the entrance, just a 'closed for maintenance' sign. Maybe that was just a video game thing, but Matt thought the yellow tape would have added a bit more color to the place. The restaurant was tasteful yet boring.

Angling the camera button on his jacket slightly upwards, Matt presented L and Near with a panoramic shot of the entire establishment.

"Wait!" A sudden shout pierced Matt's eardrum and the boy winced. Back at the hotel L gaped as a face appeared in the background of the shot, an unforeseen image that momentarily crippled his deductive abilities. L did not take surprises all too well

"Matt!" L demanded harshly. "Approach the back of the restaurant."

As Matt, and the camera, moved forward a handsome young face came into better focus and it had L leaning over the table until he was practically lying atop the surface. His mind whirled. Unless he was mistaken, which he never was, that was Light Yagami with his head bent low, speaking conspiringly with another Japanese man. What is the boy doing here? Rapidly, L pulled on ever fact regarding the Yagami prodigy that he had filed away as negligible information not too long ago. The boy's family unit consisted of four individuals, his father who worked in the NPA, his mother, a common house wife, and his younger sister, who no doubt appeared to be latched to the arm of the man Yagami was speaking with, L observed. He was currently employed under Naomi Misora at the San Francisco FBI headquarters. For the few years he'd been working with the FBI he had distinguished himself as a successful profiler. And most importantly, the boy had been the only person Beyond Birthday had spoken to during his imprisonment. For Light Yagami to suddenly appear, an acquaintance and potential witness to B's first killing, it was no coincidence. Though, it could prove to be a useful.

"Okay L," Matt's voice broke through L's thoughts. "What am I doing now?" The teenager glanced warily around the restaurant, searching out the people that weren't police.

"Approach the young man with light brown hair, I want to know why he's here," L ordered levelly.

"Just him in particular?" Matt asked suspiciously.

L was silent for a moment, running through every little scrap of information he knew about Light Yagami once more. "He may be an asset to apprehending Beyond."

"I thought you didn't want civilians involved," Matt whispered, careful to move his lips as little as possible as he came level with a large crowd of mingling police and Japanese. For people who were witness to an apparent murder, they all seemed remarkably calm, Matt thought. It put both him and L slightly on edge.

"Light Yagami is no civilian," L said roughly, black eyes never wavering from the Light's face on the screen.

"He's armed," Matt commented, maneuvering through the chaos of police men, crime scene investigators, and the civilians who'd been with the girl.

"So is the entirety of the bridal party," L said succinctly. "Interesting family."

The need for an entire family to carry a weapon was crucial to note. Given that the victim was apparently a relation of some sort to the individuals. None of the police officers in attendance were carrying a firearm, in fact it was well known that Great Britain had some of the strictest firearm legislation in the world. Never mind that Japan's rate of gun possession was almost nil. As far as L could recall the most an individual could own in Japan was a shot gun. So how did these people come to casually posses such equipment?

"Okay L," Matt whispered as he observed Light Yagami from less than a yard away. "I'm approaching them, what do you want me to do?"

"Repeat everything I say," the detective responded through the feed.

Matt mentally nodded and confronted the Japanese suspect. "Excuse me?" he spoke loudly.

Light Yagami glanced up and Matt found himself startled as he was met head on with an intensity of amber he had not been expecting. The man was furious, yet nothing in his body language said that, only the fierce swirl of his eyes, and perhaps the hard line of his mouth. It could have just been the stress of dealing with the authorities that had Light Yagami so aggravated, Matt reminded himself, but his spidey senses told him otherwise. They were whispering for him to appease the auburn haired man or suffer the consequences.

"You are Light Yagami, yes?" L's voice came into his head, spurring Matt to parrot the words.

"You're Light Yagami? Right?"

The woman clinging to the man on Yagami's left rolled her eyes in irritation. "Yes, for the hundredth time, my brother is Light Yagami, I am Sayu Yagami, and this is my rehearsal brunch!" the female practically shouted.

Bride has been scorned, Matt noted. Do not agitate. L's voice came back through his ear piece, and Matt spoke accordingly. "I apologize if we seem like broken records, but please Miss. Yagami, I only have some questions for your brother."

"Yes," Light cut in before his sister could further berate Matt. "What can I do for you? We've already told your superior and two other officers the events of today."

"Well it's been brought to our attention that you work for the American FBI."

Light had been expecting it to come at some point, police agencies being what they were, there was no way the British Police were going to let his employment status go unnoticed. He just hadn't expected it to be brought up so soon.

"Yes," Light responded to the police officer slowly, "I fail to see what that has to do with anything though. I'm on vacation."

Or at least he was. Light regarded the officer coolly. He was young, very young. In fact Light would have been surprised if the boy claimed to be anything but a teenager. He was fidgety as well, lacking the professional air the other officers darting in and out of the restaurant carried. Furthermore, no one was even sparing the kid a glance.

"How long are you planning to stay here Mr. Yagami?" the officer inquired.

"Until my sister's wedding is over, which was set for the day after tomorrow." Light spoke steadily, raking his eyes across the so call officer's frame.

The crooked, checkered brimmed hat called to the obsessive compulsive side of Light's soul, wanting to be straightened. Though the kid's hair could do with a decent brushing as well, Light thought to himself. It was stiff, set in crumpled wisps that had the officer repeatedly blinking and twitching, fighting to get the hair from his eyes. The hair color also didn't seem to go naturally with the boy's skin tone…

"Stop fidgeting," Near ordered dully, leaning in front of L to speak through the microphone before moving back constructing a Gundam out of L's marshmallows.

L glanced briefly at the boy before going back to observing Light Yagami. "Will the wedding no longer be taking place at that time?"

Yagami glanced up as Matt relayed the question, fury thinly veiled in his eyes. "No, it won't be. Now if you would please excuse us."

"You're losing him," Near commented softly. "Talk to his sister."

"Yes," L agreed. "Ask the girl if the victim had any enemies."

L listened as Matt did so, grimacing as his successor's voice shifted in annoyance. He'd defiantly need to have a word with Matt about public appearances.

"Rei was hated by everyone," Sayu Yagami snapped. "Which we told you people already. Now why are we being kept here!"

"They're not on edge over the murder," Near said, his fingers attaching a Striker Pack onto his edible model.

L spun his chair away from the monitor screen to face the albino. "What makes you say that?"

Near appraised the conversation taking place between Matt and the Yagami family before answering. "Look at the two males, the way they're standing. It's protective, as if they're ready to shield the girl from a threat. One would assume this threat to be the murder of their acquaintance, but the normal human expression of such would be to stand directly in front of her. Instead these men are off to the side, poised, as if they're glaring at an opponent. The only person staged here as an opponent would be the police. Notice that every other member of the family is in a similar state of opposition. The murderer isn't who they're afraid of, it's the police."

Smirking, L nibbled on his thumb, staring at the white haired boy appreciatively. He'd do well, L thought, popping a marshmallow into his mouth. Clearly Near possesses natural profiling abilities, but how well can he control a situation I wonder?

L stood swiftly from his chair and walked towards the kitchen, intent on finding the rest of his cheesecake. Without hesitation Near pulled the microphone closer to him while still focused on his Gundam. "You should confront them about the Guns they're carrying. As a police officer you have the ability of garner answers from them through the threat of incarceration."

Matt floundered for a moment as the voice in his ear abruptly changed from L's to Near's. Was he supposed to take direction from Near now? What the hell was L doing then? And what was Near thinking? The kid seriously wanted him to threaten the family where everyone was packing heat? Police or not, that was one thing Matt was not going to be doing anytime soon.

"I'm afraid I can't let you leave police supervision," Matt said, ignoring Near's suggestions. The freak was so detached at times, and with things like this it would cost him. Although Matt wouldn't claim to be all that socially skilled, he was at least he was better than Near.

L came back into the dining room, a platter of cheesecake and a pot of tea balanced in his arms. He couldn't help but be slightly disappointed in his top successor. The boy's idea had been flawed and trite, but direct tactics usually were. As for his persistence, it was non existence. The child sat at the table, building some robot thing out of marshmallows L didn't actually remember saying the boy could have. It didn't seem as if Near had even tried to get Matt to follow his instructions. Spineless, cotton ball kid, the detective grouched internally.

L climbed into his chair, watching in vague amusement as the Yagami girl began to yell at Matt. Hopefully he'd be able to shut her up soon.

"I didn't say you couldn't leave the restaurant," Matt snapped, losing his patience with the petite Japanese woman. If only attractiveness could negate high octave voices. "Just that you couldn't leave without police supervision."

Light glanced up at the kid in suspicion. "So what, we just let you people follow us to our hotels, like annoying shadows?"

"Well, you could have us do that, though I highly doubt we'd be interested in whatever takes place in your guy's lives." Not likely, where there are guns there be secrets, Matt thought to himself. "Or you could come to the crime scene with me."

"Matt, what the hell do you think you're doing?" L's voice came suddenly sharply through his ear piece. But Matt ignored it, focusing instead on the violent words his declaration was met with.

"No."

"Yes."

Sayu glanced at her brother in surprise. "Onii-Chan, may I remind you that you are on vacation."

Light cast an annoyed glance at his younger sister, though Matt had a feeling it wasn't actually her he was annoyed with. "Someone is killing off your bridal party Sayu. Are we really going to leave it up to them," at this Light nodded towards Matt insultingly, "to figure out who?"

A wordless message was cast over the air between the alleged fiancé and bride, before acquiescence was met to Light's request. It was simply more to the jigsaw of just who the hell these people were. A heat packing, cop fearing, bridal party wanted to investigate the murder of someone everyone hated, Matt listed appreciatively. If only the family would adopt him.

L was still hissing objections into his ear, but Matt paid the detective no mind. If L wanted to control the involvement of these people he could come down to the crime scene himself. All Matt wanted at the moment was to make these people happy so he didn't end up getting shot. Already the groom's hand was twitching for the lead strapped to his chest. Plus, Light Yagami apparently worked for the FBI, and clearly L knew this, which meant the young man was capable. L only noticed those who'd proven themselves in the field. If Matt could get L to take Yagami onto the team then they would have more hands, which meant Matt would no longer have to play dress up. It was a win-win situation as far as he was concerned.

"As a Fedral Agent, as well as an acquaintance of the victim, you may notice something about this murder that we didn't," Matt continued. "If you're open to accompanying me, please do. We would like all the information you may provide."

Light shot his sister a stern glance as she made another move to protest. He'd already asked if he could examine the body, and the officers had shot him down. Yet here was a kid, saying he could get him past the crime scene tape. The red flags in his head had now been joined by a bunch of blaring sirens and flashing, red lights.

"I'd be happy to take a look," Light said evenly. "Sayu, if you and your fiancé want, you can stay behind with the others."

"No, I'll go with you Yagami-Kun," the fiancé said quickly. "She was my sister anyway."

Matt had to maintain his sense of surprise. The fiancé was the brother to the victim? Where were the tears, the unbridled anger? The man was calmer than a Tibetan monk. What kind of brother kept that kind of cool in face of their sister's murder?

Sayu glared at her brother and future husband, and Matt pitied the girl as she realized she wasn't going to win this battle. "Fine, go!"

The walk to the parking garage was short, and covered in a silence Matt wasn't entirely comfortable being a part of. He was too accustomed to meandering around with loud, obnoxious kids who were too smart for their own good, smart being a synonym for annoying. But the two men flanking his current footsteps were calm, collected, and ridiculously confident. Matt may have been the one in the police getup, but to any onlooker, the boy had no doubt the Japanese men would each be taken as the ones in control of the situation.

The police had already cut off all the entrances to the parking garage and were subsequently holding every car parked within the concrete cage hostage. This left a crowd less than pleased citizens milling about the sidewalk, gripping at lesser officers who'd been abandoned by their superiors to patrol the block. Using the mild confusion and fuss as cover Matt slid amongst the crowd and up the garage stairs. It irked him to see that, while other officers looked at him quizzically, Light Yagami and the other Japanese man were presented with nods of approval.

Light also noticed this small fact, but unlike Matt, it amused him more than anything. "What have you people gathered thus far?"

"Oh, well…"

"Just who the hell are these guys?" a strict voice broke in before the flustered blush could effectively walk all across Matt's face. The teenager hadn't thought that far ahead, or formulated a response to Light's unanticipated question.

A lanky cop was shouting as he saw Matt, Light, and Hachirou approaching the scene. "Who are you to let these people in?" the man demanded, spiting in Matt's face.

"They're FBI specialists," Matt replied quickly, the lies formulating faster on his tongue than his mind could process them. Blame his aversion to authority for it. "The woman has been identified as an American Citizen, on branch with the Japanese embassy." Matt prayed to God there was such a thing in the world, and that the victim's family hadn't given that much information to the authorities yet. Going by the family's wariness around law enforcement, he was hazarding that they hadn't.

"Right… and what do they want with my crime scene?"

"Just to take a look," Light said, stepping up behind Matt and clasping his hand on the boy's shoulder pleasantly. "We're here to assist you after all."

Sparing the man a winning smile, Light stepping up towards the body.

Light hadn't been to many crime scenes during his time with the FBI, and the ones he did accompany Naomi to were virtually clean by the time he got to them. He'd had a desk job, not field work. He was accustomed to the sight of a dead body however, having gone through and analyzed multiple pictures of victims, and the occasional poor soul that got hit by a stray bullet. So he had never really had the privilege of looking at an undisturbed mangled body. The sight was a lot cleaner than he'd expected it to be.

Immediately, Light's mind began taking in and working out the meanings of the details. The blood was still red upon the asphalt, but had begun to dissipate some, leaving a darkened smear across areas, marking the perimeter of the struggle. There was no spatter anywhere, showing that either the kill or incapacitation had been quick, with a direct force that went clean through the body. Light guessed, based on the gaping hole in Rei's back, that she'd been debilitated by the pain of the stabbing. The blood seemed to come solely from the subclavian artery by the position of the wound. It was the only visible point of major trauma Light could see. That was until he stepped in closer.

"She's bruised, all across her back," Hacirou commented.

Light kneeled down beside the body, careful that only the soles of his shoes were going to be stained with blood. "It's a pattern, letters or roman numerals, I can't say. It's difficult to make out."

Matt came to stand behind Light, angling his uniform, and the pink ribbon attached to it, so L could record an adequate picture of the victim.

One of the forensic specialists glanced up at the three of them. "We found this in her hand." Passing a crumpled note over, Matt hastily grabbed the paper before the other two men could.

Carefully, he unfolded the sheet to find it was a piece of blue lined notebook paper. Eyes widening, Matt took in the gothic 'M' that occupied the far right corner of the page. Beneath the letter was a set of details.

After removing the carpet from the room, he plays a vinyl record before placing a crown atop his head and hanging himself, he then gets stabbed in the back.

"I need her name Matt," L snapped impatiently into Matt's ear. "You've spent all this time chatting, but I have no name other that Light and Sayu Yagami's."

Matt grimaced but complied, knowing L's irritation had nothing to do with Matt himself but with the crumpled paper the boy held. The 'M' proved this was Beyond's work, and the fact did more to disturb the both of them then make them feel better about their progress. "Who was she exactly?" Matt inquired, pushing thoughts of Mello and Beyond Birthday out of his mind.

"My sister, Rei," the Japanese man that wasn't Light Yagami said unhelpfully. Apparently their family had no last name. "May I see that?" he asked, gesturing for the note.

"And no one really got along with her?" Matt pressed for information, passing the paper to Rei's brother.

Light stood swiftly and nodded his head at the other man, who had passed the note back to the forensic specialist. "She was a bitch from what I understood. Anyway, as we've said, you guys have all this information. At the moment, there's nothing I can conclude from the body. But do I have your word that you'll keep us informed?" Light looked imploringly at the young police agent, morphing his visage into one of slight distress and determination.

"Yeah," Matt stammered, momentarily taken aback by the vulnerable expression. "Sure."

"Good," Light nodded with a smile,

"Yes, very good Matt." L's voice came through the ear piece, though the detective didn't soun d very pleased at all. "I think you can come back now, you've clearly been dismissed."

Choosing not to rise to the insult Matt merely nodded his head and turned swiftly from the two Asian men. "I'll report back to my superiors," he called over his shoulder. "Can find your way back to the restaurant?" Not waiting for a reply Matt briskly walked for the stairs at the south corner of the garage, Watari would be waiting for him three blocks from there. He couldn't wait to get back to the hotel and throw the stupid outfit he was wearing in the trash.

"So what do you think?" Hacirou turned to observe Light's expression as they both watched the young officer practically run from the scene. "He legit?"

Light glanced at the man who was to marry his sister, a sly smirk on his face. "There's only one way to find out."

The two of them nodded at each other before sprinting after the boy and down the concrete steps. A flurry of activity met them at the bottom of the staircase; four cops were busily trying to keep a mass of civilians from running into the parking garage to retrieve their cars. Each person was shouting to be heard while random passersby and news crews snapped pictures of the commotion.

"There," Light snapped, eyes locking onto the boy who was now about to cross the street. "Faint, quick."

Without protest Hachirou fell backwards and went limp into Lights arms.

"HELP! SOMEONE HELP!" Light shouted, cradling his sister's fiancé against his chest, but his eyes never left the police officer who was now running down the street, away from the parking garage.

A/N:

Translation: Uzhas – Horror

I should probably inform you that Matt's hair color comes from my fic "Pink," just in case you were curious. It's not necessary reading for this story, but feel free to check it out if you so wish. It's on my profile.

Also, updates may be coming slower from here on out. I'm back in classes, which provides me with a lot of business that isn't exactly appreciated.

Thanks for reading, please review.