I'm putting my Kira project n hold and staying home from "work" for a few days. I'm going to try to get in contact with Wammy's House today, to see what information I can find out about Matt. Naturally, to protect my location and identity, I have several programs in my phone made to make my line untraceable. I can't let Near find out where I am.

The phone rings several times before someone picks up. I am greeted by a friendly, kindly older voice. He asks me my business with Wammy's House, and I simply tell him I'm looking for one of their past children, and if he could kindly give me any information thank-you-very-much.

I'm left with a politely phrased go-fuck-yourself. Naturally, his word's are less crude then mine, but I know I won't get any information this way. Looks like I'll have to revert to my other plan for finding him.

Anyone, anywhere in the world can be found, if you are willing to go low enough and to the right people. I know these people. Slimy, not to be trusted, dangerous. Just like me, it seems. I don't even need to give them the full name, just a basic description as I remember him, the name Matt, and the basic location of where we came from. They group of dirty hackers smile at me, then send me back on my merry way. They have their own ways of finding people, and they don't need others knowing. I doubt I want to know anyway.

I'm walking down the street. I don't think it will take long for my team of freaks to find out all of Matt's current personal information. This feels like an invasion of privacy. Hell, it is. I feel bad for this poor guy. He's being stalked by someone he hasn't seen for a good five years.

I stop walking, leaning in the darkened doorstep of a shop against the chainlink they put up to prevent theft. Wow. It's only been five years. Only five fucking years. How fast my life has changed.

It's weird, thinking that just five years ago, I lived in an orphanage. I shared a room with my best friend, Matt. I had the second best test scores in the country, after Near, my only enemy. I had an idol, L. And I knew right from wrong. Back in those days, before I'd really seen the world and realized what I'd have to do to make my way through it, right and wrong had been as different and as clear as black and white. Now my life is just shades of Grey.

I start walking again. I can't really just stand there under the doorstep in the shadows. I'd say I look like a criminal, but I am, so it would be repetitive. It starts raining again, but I saw this coming. It's been cloudy and overcast here all day. So, in the dark of the night and chill of the storm, I'm walking all alone. Not too far ahead, I spot a small children's playground.

Being in the city, this poor, miserable place looks more like teenage hunting grounds then a place for children. I know I sure as hell wouldn't bring my kid here, but I feel perfectly safe as I sit down on the only unbroken swing. I just sit there. It's comforting, being in the rain, especially when it's like this: gentle and cool.

All too soon (or perhaps not soon enough?) the phone in my pocket rings.

"We've got him," the voice tells me before hanging up. I sprint through the dirty city streets, back to the Rat's Den. The Head Rat hands me a small slip of paper with numbers and words scribbled down. I can hardly hide my excitement. I toss a few twenties to the Rats, and I'm out. I don't even mind the snickers of some of them, and the comment I heard about "finding my boyfriend" one of them made as I left.

I'm on my way home now. The paper with the precious information is safely in my pocket. Nothing will leak through that leather, so I know that it won't be damaged.

When I get home, I simply look at the small paper. An address (out of this state, so I'll probably have to get him here somehow. Whatever, I'm in the mafia. I'll find a fucking way to get him here fast if I want him here fast. Some other numbers, shit, more shit, annnd....

Why hello there, email and phone number.

I open up another tab on one of the many open internet browsers. Like my phone, all of my computers have been programmed to not give away my location, and I employ the use of proxies just in case. i feel perfectly secure when I open up my never-used email. I type out a brief, to-the-point email.

"Hello Matt.

It's been years, and rest assured, it's only in the darkest hour of need that I feel I have to contact you.

Believe me when I say, I wish things could have gone better back at the orphanage.

Now, however, is not the time for discussing that.

I have your current address, as well as very personal information about you.

I could forcefully bring you here anytime I want, but now, I'll give you the option of getting here by yourself, in a far more comfortable fashion."

I have to admit, they weren't exactly endearing opening lines. I didn't care. Either he'd take it, or he'd learn to. I didn't have time to play around anymore. I typed a bit more, giving a very vague explanation of what I was doing and what he'd be doing for me if he came. Finally, I enclosed a phone number.

"Call that number as soon as you get this message. If this isn't responded to within forty-eight hours, I will send people for you. It's in your best interest to call."

With that charming last sentence, I clicked the send button. Now I could only wait and hope that it wouldn't come to force.

Can you see me up there, L? I hope you're watching. I doubt you'd approve of my methods, but this is all for you. No, that's a lie. It's for Near too. I'll shwo you both who number one really is.

I'll show you what I can do, L. Are you proud of me?