"Direct Confrontation" was what they had discussed
"Direct Confrontation" was what they had discussed. L was going to test his theory out just as she was in her own way.
She had told Lawliet her intentions as soon as she arrived with Mr. Wammy from the meeting. She had worded her plan so that it would not sound as outrageous and spontaneous, trying to get it on Lawliet's good side. Over the years he had grown weary of her ideas, commenting "Your plans are brash and too overzealous, you will get yourself killed one of these days." And then he bit into her strawberry cake. She admitted that she was not too fond of the plan herself but it was for the sake of the case. IN her mind she had categorized the serial killer named "Kira" as; a spoiled child with similar morals as us. (Us being Lawliet and herself)
She twirled her hair lightly as she looked over Lawliet's shoulder, wrinkling her nose at the voice synthesizer. With a huff, she leaned back, "Make sure you take off the extra static, you will kill the other cats in the city with it." She muttered, stretching.
"Yes, that is the third time you tell me Kat." He mused, fiddling with some dials.
Kat sighed, "I can tell you a dozen times and you still will not listen." She retorted, flipping her hair over her shoulder.
"Touché."
The corner of her lips twitched but then she noticed the time. "Kuso, I have to get ready if I want to execute my plan."
Lawliet froze, turning around. "Be careful, we do not need any casualties other than the ones planned." He cautioned, face ever blank.
Kat waved her hand in the air, "Yes, yes. I will use the utmost caution while prompting Kira, Lawliet." And with that she disappeared off to change into a costume more appropriate for the task at hand.
-
A man in a suit with blue eyes and raven hair was being broad-casted on the television, Kat simply scowled at the man from her perch.
"I head up a special police task force which includes all member nations, my name is Lind L. Tailor, otherwise known as 'L.'" Kat sighed, if L was correct in his deduction, then she would come out fine, but if he was wrong, she would die a horrible fate; …at the hand of Kira. From her vantage point she had a good view of all the people bellow, staring at the large screens aghast muttering insults to L, saying he was an idiot.
"Criminals all over the world are being murdered by a serial killer; I believe this to be the most atrocious act of mass murder in history. Kira, I will hunt you down, I will find you." In her head, she could surmise what Kira was thinking. Something along the lines of either 'this is interesting' or 'impossible.' But, then again, that was from the profiling they had done on the killer.
"Kira, I have a pretty good idea of what your motivation is and I can guess what you hope to achieve, but what your doing right now– is evil!" he said, Kat jumped onto the ledge of the building she was on, wind tussling her purple wig as she looked down through yellow contacts. The camera crew from the TV station was there, filming the top of the building while another recorded the public's reaction. She spotted an black van a little ways away, prepared to do anything as soon as she called for it on her microphone.
"Don't leap yet, K," A synthesized voice, no static, whispered into her ear.
"I know, please stop worrying." K said, apathetic voice adding a slight growl All part of another façade. She was starting to loose count of all of the masks she had in her repertoire.
No one answered her back.
And then, forty seconds later, Lind L. Tailor collapsed. Heart attack, K thought wide eyed. This was no normal killer; this one was just out of the norm!
The screens went white and a moment later a large black L filled the blank space in the center of each.
"I had to test this just in case, but I never thought it would actually happen. Kira, it seems you can kill people without having to be there in person." the synthetic voice said.
"Listen to me, Kira, if you did in fact kill Lind L. Tailor, the man you just saw die on television, I should tell you he was an inmate whose execution was scheduled for today. That wasn't me." K tensed her muscles, latching her fingers onto the edge of the building, leaning her body back in a swimming pose.
"But L is real, I do exist. Now, try to kill me!" he continued, that was a bold move, but she knew he was safe as long as Kira could not see him.
"What are you waiting for?" he taunted; he knew he was safe too, though he could not be sure until this was over.
"Come on! Go ahead and kill me!" Her enhanced senses honed in on the transmitter at her human ear, echoing what was being said on the screens.
"What is this?" someone from the crowd asked.
"It's Kira vs. L!"
"You mean Kira really exists?"
"Who's "L"? I've heard of Kira, but..."
"It's murder, live on TV!"
"Creepy..."
"Do it Kira!" people began to speak up.
"I'm still here, can't do it, Kira?" L continued to taunt, "Evidently you aren't able to kill me." the synthetic voice said calmly.
She smirked, "My turn L, introduce me to this 'Kira,'" She commanded, a smirk on her features as she saw both cameras turn to her, her features appearing on the screens. Brash and spontaneous, but bound to prove something more, for certain.
"How about Agent K? Can you kill her?" The synthetic voice started it's taunt again.
Everyone seemed to turn and twist to the building she was on as she smirked slightly. "Yes, can you kill me, Kira? Can an evil criminal like you kill a government assassin?" White lie, but she had worked for the government at times, sometimes having to carry out hits like a common hit man.
"What?! That woman is crazy!"
"Kill her!"
"Ah! Assassin! She'll kill us all!"
"Hide the women and children!"
"If she's working with L she won't kill us," The humans spoke again.
"Well? I am waiting?" She said, launching herself off the building and down to the streets bellow.
"Making them think you are a crazy maniac again? You are running out of personas K." L admonished slightly.
"Stop yammering and just pay attention," She muttered back, too low for the cameras to catch.
She landed on the ground, bouncing on her hands and feet a bit to make sure nothing was out of place. She winced just a bit, Great, cut myself on the gravel and my ankles are sore, I am getting too old for these situations. She thought sarcastically.
"Hey L, I really do not think this coward is going to kill me, not even attempt with a gun, might as well tell him what we learned today." She said clearly among the silence of the crowds as they tried to come attack her for insulting their "God."
Without further consent, she jumped into the black van, sighing as she buckled her seat belt under the cover of the tinted windows.
"Jolly good job, Kat." Mr. Wammy spoke in English as he focused on getting the van back to the hotel. Her lips twitched up. She would never admit it but she enjoyed when she was praised by the kind old man, being one of the only humans she ever got along with. "Thank you, Mr. Wammy, I suppose L is going to chastise me for just copying his idea and just applying it differently," She sighed, leaning her head back on the chair. "I am getting to old to be jumping off of buildings as often as I do."
Mr. Wammy chuckled at that as he saw Kat rub her ankles with the tips of her fingers, being careful not to rub blood onto the cuts.
-
Kat tended to her cut blithely, humming a small tune under her uncharacteristically. Even with her injuries, she tried to steer away from the morbid thoughts thrown her way involuntarily. Trying to stay positive to the best of her ability. And humming a theme song from a fighting anime called Naruto was the closest thing she could do to calming herself down.
She copied a few of the moves from the anime and a few others, taking mental noted of the surprisingly good strategies that were created and the physically impossible moves most humans could not accomplish.
But then, the anger came coursing back into her like an unstoppable current. "Kill her," they said, "hide the children" they said, and the crowd was speckled with only a few people that could determine she was no immediate threat to them, only to Kira. After bandaging her hand up, she started to punch the air, no wanting to den the walls and have to pay for damages should she underestimate her strength. She muttered curses, fueling her senses with it, clouding her eyes slightly. IN a sense, this was her form of practice; like putting a blindfold on someone. She would rely on her other senses, impairing one, and as far as she knew, only her kind could center emotions. But she kept this information away form her two human companions, not wanting them to think she was any more of an abomination.
But then she remembered that one time, when some idiots had adopted her from Wammy's, it was when she was ten until she turned eleven. A full year of…
1992-1993 Sometime in between, somewhere near Moscow, Russia
She sat in a corner, arms around her knees. They had found her. They brought her back.
The cuffs on her wrists rubbed against her raw skin as she wiped the stick liquid off of her face.
How in the world did they manage to find her again? And they treat her worse now. She rested her lean face on her painfully thin arms, wincing when she touched a bruise.
But how did they manage to find her? She was safe in the orphanage, living peacefully with Lawliet and Mr. Wammy. These people whom had all the false paperwork to even full government officials had some sort of personal vendetta with her and were somehow linked to the scientists, that she knew.
They were harsh with her, tanking on her tail, threatening her with knives when she dared to protest but never relenting on her. She was only given water, and that was by the other child they had with them, one who was all the way human but was used as a slave among the adults. He was her kindred spirit even if he was younger than her by a few years. It seemed he too was Chinese and would occasionally bring her a morsel or just come to speak with her. She was content with the company but absolutely refused to let him touch her, reclusive as always.
Just thinking about living through the next day was depressing for her, she would rather they just kill her off because the chances of someone saving her from hell this time were once again in the negative columns.
They had all of killed her emotionally, bringing any other captive down with them, it seemed that there wereothers out there of her kind, but they just brought them done to her little torture chamber and murdered them right before her eyes. Sliding the knife painfully slow across the throat until it reached the jugular, using different snake venoms and leave them screaming by her, letting her witness the poison take effect until the person was blotchy with rigor mortis (coagulated blood that turns the skin into bruise like colors).
Many times she begged for death but they just half gave her wish, torturing her until she thought she was dying however, it was only to the brink of death. She pleaded, begged, demanded and many things but it always came with the same result until she spoke no more, a similar effect to when she was in the labs. She gave in, not showing any outward emotion when they would beat her until they left.
She was morose one day, searching the room with her eyes (she was in a state where she could feel her heart take it's last beats but wanted insurance that she would, in fact, die) for a sharp implement to kill herself with when the light of day shined down the steps to her torture chamber.
The seconds following were blurred but she could feel herself against a shaking figure as she felt blood dribble down her chin from her pale lips. She could only faintly decipher the words "Don't die, Kat," But that was all she needed to hear to try and take more shuddering breaths. It may have sounded clichéd but she could recognize the voice anywhere, the one of two people she would always listen to.
Present Day
She halted her attack on the air as she felt a particularly harsh sting erupt from her ribs. After saying a few choice words and lifting her shirt up a bit, she gasped in agony. The bindings on her lower ribs were tainted crimson. She scrambled back into the bathroom, searching frantically for the first aid kit Mr. Wammy had just in case. How did she manage to open it? She thought it was nearly gone!
Apparently she was wrong as she delicately removed the bandages and cleaned the gruesome gash that was oozing the crimson liquid of life: though her blood seemed a tad bit darker then a normal humans. This would set her back a few days. And the ICPO thought she never acquired wounds? Why did they think she picked black clothing; for her health or stealth? No, it was to put up the illusion that she did not have wounds or abrasions.
She had not notice she had left the door open, and therefore also did not notice the raven haired man that stood at the frame, eye wide at the site of blood glistening over porcelain skin. His hands trembled slightly, no! She can't die of something like that, it seems too shallow!
Maddy: I have so many reviews I could start dancing! I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter and apologize if L seemed out of character in this one, I tried my best especially with the wound at the end, as for the injury itself, that will be self explanatory in further chapters (hopefully)! Please continue to review! It is making me more eager to write more and see reader's response to it!