A/N: Hey, it's me again, here with an updated chapter of my story! There's going to be a bit more humor in this one, though V certainly objects to the humor. You won't BELIEVE what V has to do in this one! XD

Disclaimer: Don't own Death Note, but I still own V and the randomness that will ensue toward the middle of the chapter.

Chapter 8: Reluctance

Our heads swiveled simultaneously toward the source of the abrupt noise that had sent shivers down our spines and gave us cause for worry. Overcome with shock, L sat frozen on the floor, his incredulous black eyes ogling at the screen blaring in front of him. A trace of fear showed in those eyes, as well. Never had I seen my brother afraid of anything before. Usually, he emitted a brave, courageous aura that proved he could handle any threatening situation. To observe that lost, if only for a moment, was extremely disconcerting.

"Shinigami...? Are we supposed to accept the existence of such a thing...?" he managed to gasp out, which I assume implied that the supernatural negatively awed him.

"I'm sure they don't exist," I assured him.

As I mentioned before, I had suspected the paranormal playing a key role in the Kira killings.

The fact that this second Kira referenced shinigami, death gods in English translation, convinced me even further. However, if I so much as stated that conclusion, the members of the task force would deem me insane, and Light would kill me simply due to the fact that I guessed too accurately.

In fact, I heard him voice his agreement with me too enthusiastically, as if he really wanted to butter me up like a limp piece of toast. As if I would ever fall for his tricks! I barely suppressed the urge to glare at him as I listened more attentively to the theories tossed about.

At one point, L suggested that the second Kira seemed to allow his/her emotions be in control due to the desire to meet Kira directly. This sounded like it could describe an obsessed fanatic, which I would say was a feminine quality. For example, whenever I had flipped on the television before the case, I would notice teenage girls screaming for the latest teen sensation band. Yes, it was these girls my age that lacked lives as they idolized and adored male celebrities from afar. I went out on a limb and said that second Kira's sex was indeed female.

"I would suggest all of you to lewd on that," I proposed gravely. "Obsession is more up girls' ally than it is a man's. Sure, these videos could be made by a man, but I do believe that the second Kira might crave attention of the affectionate sort."

I swore that Light's shoulders trembled slightly from laughter, signaling that he immediately dismissed my assumption. Resolving to catch him in the act, I pretended to clear my throat and say, "Light, I believe you doubt my guessing strategy. May I ask why?"

"It just seems a little early to be jumping to conclusions, don't you think, Miyazawa?"

He injected slight sardonic attitude into his voice that made my blood boil out of raging fury. Of course, I was never one to anger as easily as that.

"I apologize, but I was only throwing the possibility out there."

"Hey, I thought it made sense, Utako!" Matsuda chimed in to encourage me.

I appreciated him vouching for me, but I felt confident in my analysis. L, however, actually took Light's side on this, and I wondered why.

"Light-kun does have a point, Miyazawa-san. Until we actually have a suspect within our grasp, we don't know for certain what sex the second Kira is."

This seemed harsh, truthfully told; most would have sensed belittling betrayal. But, I held my ground by concluding, "All I'm saying is what I believe is true. You don't have to agree with me. However, I do not ask to be corrected."

That was the first time I ever articulated any words that came off as coldly enraged during the investigation. Maybe it was my pride that had done it in for me or maybe my weariness, but one thing remained absolute. I despised the disdain of others, no matter what form it took. It compelled me to feel as though I served as a mere babysitter's client in this force and not an adolescent prodigy. Meanwhile, the others spent the rest of the time brainstorming ideas regarding the tapes and the second Kira. Unfortunately, my pride had been sorely damaged, so that I merely brooded.

After the meeting, L inquired, "Are you all right, V? You seem irritated."

"It's a lack of sleep," I lied, sighing wearily. "I merely require rest."

And as I shut my door, I questioned when it came to the case strengthening our bond.

Thankfully, my lack of sleep resulted in my practically childish brooding and when I finally did receive the recommended eight hours of sleep for once in my life, my horrific mood dissipated. So, on the next day, I ensured to prepare myself for another discussion. I even cheerily bode a good morning to L, who sat crouched near his laptop and eating cake as usual.

"Good morning to you, too," he replied blankly. "I see that your mood has improved."

"Yes, it has. But, I was curious... May I have some of your cake?"

"No."

On that note, my day began splendidly, though soured once Light arrived after the other task force members. I had managed to forgive him for the day before but only just.

Today's meeting had to do with a particular diary page, which looked rather strange.

For one thing, one to two sentences were what the individual entries consisted. More essentially, an entry for the thirtieth of May mentioned something about confirming the shinigami at a Giants game. Very strange indeed—I was almost baffled by them. However, what truly grabbed my attention was the manner in which the entries were written...seemingly by a female hand, judging from feminine activities and observations explained on the page.

"I still think Kira is a girl...," I started out before glimpsing the bored expressions of Light and Aizawa, "but that's not important right now. So, we all agree the entry on the thirtieth of May is important, right?"

I know it must have come off as a stupid question, but the others nodded in the hopes of hearing a decent opinion from me.

"Well, the twenty-fifth of May seems conspicuous. Sure, it's just notebooks, but what kind? They could possibly be murder weapons," I finished, not wishing to hog any more of this vital talk than I had to.

Bingo. Light stiffened (though not too much) when I stated this. Who knew, though? He could have gotten a backache from standing in one spot too long.

"That almost sounds reasonable, but that couldn't be it," Aizawa mentioned skeptically.

"Nonetheless, it is a possibility," L calmly stated, which most definitely surprised me.

I would elaborate more on the conversations if I controlled time; it must be said with regret, however, that I severely lack in it. With that out in the open, I will summarize what occurred to the best of my ability. Storytelling, even relating a true one, was never my forte.

By the end of the conversation, Light had volunteered to go to Aoyama to investigate this business concerning the second Kira. Matsuda opted to set off for that location as well, probably his way of informing that he would contribute as much as he could. But, L, sadly enough, couldn't be bothered to bestow him his entire respect. In the mean time, I ate more of my Neapolitan ice cream to bask in my contentment.

And then my brother had to go and tell all of us to dispose all the photographs we had in our possession. My spoon nearly toppled from my hand. He couldn't possibly imply the one I kept from childhood...could he?

Later that night, once I heard L hanging up the phone on someone, I perched on my bed in complete and utter misery. The photo of Mello, Matt, and me, the last memento of my life at Wammy's, was in my grasp. I traced the smiles over and over with my finger. What if I forgot what my friends looked like after this? I could scarcely bear it.

L strode into the bedroom just then, taking note of my depressed countenance.

"I honestly don't want to destroy this photo, L," I told him in a flat, monotone, one of which I used whenever I was at my most wretched. "My friends are very dear to me, if you must know."

"I do," he confessed while leaning against the doorway, "but you have to get rid of it. It's for safety reasons, and, as I said years ago, I—"

"Don't want to put my life at risk," I finished dully. "I know, L. But, this was a memory and...I don't want to give it up."

"It's not as though you won't see them again. You will. Now..."

"I know." I sighed deeply in a lamenting manner, squeezed my eyes shut, and ripped the photo into smithereens.

When I forced myself to open my eyes, I saw the shredded pieces lay strewn across the carpet, appearing almost like the scattered ashes of my memory. Yet no reaction stirred me nor did I even feel my heart sink. I was emotionlessly numb, gazing mindlessly at a particular fragment of the photo, one that portrayed a portion of Matt's goggles. All the while silence oppressed me, which L didn't break until minutes (or hours) had elapsed.

"Don't think of that simple photograph too much," he advised. "It's only for the best."

"Of course," a detached voice I could nearly discern as my own replied. Destroying that photo spiraled me into an alien, far-off location of sorts. I exhaled in order to gradually bring myself back to reality, reassuring myself that I didn't need that picture; I didn't need that tie to Wammy's House.

After all, it was just a despicable orphanage with deplorable, sinfully jealous orphans.

Stepping nearer toward me, L told me of what his plans for tomorrow were. "I told Matsuda that you will go to Aoyama tomorrow as well. You are just as much an asset to the force as the rest of the members. And I know how always eager you are to help."

I smiled wryly. "That's true...but how am I going to look inconspicuous?"

"I doubt you will be too fond of this idea to say the least."

"What is it?" I asked drearily, my smile fading as quickly as it had come.

"You will pose as Light's girlfriend, while trying to find who you think could be a suspect."

Balancing myself on the bed with my hands, I managed to prevent myself from ungracefully falling onto the floor. I could hardly tolerate Light's company during our meetings, but to go undercover and do this—the urge to vomit came in the form of bile rising to my mouth. Normally, I was never this queasy to the point of actually doing something like that. Luckily, I stopped the bile with my tongue just in time.

L coolly registered my ruefully evident shock before continuing, "V, I am aware you highly distrust Light. But, whatever differences you have with him must be put aside in order for us to move on with the investigation. Is that understood?"

"I suppose," I said resignedly, displeased with his abrupt strict tone at the moment. In some ways, he still treated me like a child, despite what I informed him earlier on in the case.

Much to my agony, there was more that L had to divulge, as if the direct order of masquerading as Light's girlfriend wasn't humiliating and degrading enough.

"I asked Watari to bring some casual women's wear over from the store, as well as an accessory and"—and I swore he smirked lightly here—"some cosmetics."

It took all the will power I possessed inside me to keep my jaw from dropping open. I would have to surrender my hooded sweatshirt, my untouched by womanly make-up face, and my dignity for one terrible day of "investigating." Looking the part of an average teenage girl (which I certainly didn't appear as, by any means) served as pure torture.

Of course, while I digested all this startling information, Watari entered just then. Wonderful.

"I have the items you requested, L," he briskly said before setting a shopping bag down on the floor—the bag that would contain those ghastly, feminine accessories.

"Thank you, Watari. That will be all."

After Watari left, I cautiously approached the bag, which I treated as though it was a rabid animal that could infect me whenever it wished. L, though, resolved to put me out of my misery by fishing two items out the bag first.

"Which should you have?" he mused, but I could promptly tell he wasn't taking this situation seriously. "This lovely pink purse or the black leather one? Decisions, decisions."

Rolling my eyes to display my disenchantment toward his mockery, I calmly said with a tinge of sarcasm, "I don't need you to advise me on female items, thank you."

L placed a finger to his bottom lip while his smile grew, a gesture he did to suppress potential bouts of laughter. "I apologize, V. I forget that I am no woman by any means."

"Thus your insensitivity. I'll take the black leather purse, if you don't mind."

He tossed the desired purse my way; I caught it on a reflex. Proceeding to remove the cosmetics from the bag, he feigned amazement. Of course, I merely rolled my eyes again and kindly asked him to give me the damn make-up already, so that my suffering would conclude soon.

"As you wish," he replied, still trying to fight laughter.

I then reluctantly peeked into the shopping bag in order to gaze upon the clothes I would end up wearing during my undercover mission. As it turned out, the outfit proved to be to my liking. Khaki capris, a denim jacket, a simple white T-shirt, and tennis shoes made up this decent ensemble. If I had possessed a finer eye toward fashion in general, I would even venture to exalt on its perfection.

"I thank whoever controls the universe that you didn't tell Watari to buy a revolting short skirt for me," I replied, studying my new clothes one last time before placing them back in the bag.

L merely replied, "Well, you did say you weren't a huge fan of incest."

I thanked the heavens above that this was a joke.

Proceeding to take on a more somber approach, my brother told me the following: I could bring my cellphone with me on this excursion, pinpoint the likely candidate for a suspect, and use the camera on my phone to snap a digital photo. This sounded agreeable enough to me, considering I would feel like a female James Bond. It was empowering to enact this simple duty to force the investigation even further. However, I knew that Light would possibly, if not definitely, serve as a major obstacle preventing us from achieving that goal.

Yet, when I confided in L regarding this, he seemed genuinely defensive.

"Light-kun has contributed immensely to this cause," he informed me, his voice tinged with what I can only describe as vehemence, however faint. "I am hoping that I can narrow the odds of him being Kira."

A glimmer of doubt in his eyes almost eluded my peripheral vision, but I caught it just in time.

"How can you be so sure?"

He sighed wearily, a habit that he had started to adapt a while back. "I'm not...but you never know."

With his cryptic words, he promptly ended the discussion and insisted I retire to bed before I could think on things too much. This deterred me, yet I trusted his judgment.

Displeased with the irrevocable fact I would wear make-up on my mission, I half-heartedly applied it in the bathroom. Green shadow speckled my eyelids, thick mascara caused my lashes to appear false, and blush didn't flatter me in the slightest. Indeed, with all these so-called beauty items on my face, I looked like a grotesque porcelain doll. If I had despised my appearance prior to this, I loathed it like a detested rival now. Ugliness was all I saw in my reflection in the bathroom mirror, my dejected self gazing blankly back at me. A brief shadow of a thought passed through my mind, consisting of a meditation about what Matt would think of me if he espied me in this wretched state. He would probably find me unattractive in the worst way, considering he preferred "cute" girls.

Would anyone even place me in that category?

I ignored these thoughts before they could torture me any further and lower my self-esteem to the breaking point. Really, I didn't need a member of the opposite sex to love me. As I said a while ago, I wanted to elude love's suffocating grasp if I could help it. I had been disappointed enough times in my life without having this on my plate. So, wearing a driven expression, I strode to the main room to give my customary morning salutations to L. His eyes widened slightly once he noticed my poorly applied cosmetics, though wisely chose to not say a word about them. I would have felt highly irritated and even offended if he had done so.

A breakfast of chocolate ice cream later, I set off for Aoyama in my stylish outfit that I betted Light would be surprised to see me wear. Of course, I could tell the ignorant young man tended to lean toward the sexist side of things, much to my disgust. For some reason that I cannot begin to explain, I could tell that Light basically saw women as a bunch of inane, quickly fooled dolls.

Unfortunately for him, I was far from what he deemed a typical girl. As I strode up to him with Matsuda by my side, I even sensed disappointment emitting from him. He was keenly aware as to how sharp-minded I was.

"Hello, Light," I greeted in a falsely sanguine tone I never used on him.

Light, aware of what part I had to play in this whole charade, grabbed my hand to feign youthful love toward me. This reminded me of that moment ten years ago when I timidly held Matt's hand for a few seconds. I had enjoyed the feel of his hand, but definitely not Light's now. Grasping his hand was like holding onto a leech.

He proceeded to drag me to his group of friends who chatted carelessly away. Great, I didn't think hanging out with the popular crowd was part of the deal. Associating with others greatly disconcerted me.

"Hey, guys," Light greeted casually to these blissful teenagers, "this is my cousin Taro."

Pointing to Matsuda, he waved a very convincing hand over to the also socially awkward rookie cop, who tentatively stepped up beside him.

"Who's the pretty girl?" a (I knew to be sarcastic) voice asked, the question coming from a boy. Of course, only boys possessed the ability of biting cynicism.

"This is my girlfriend, Utako," Light answered, treating me as though he owned me, what with the manner in which he forced my hand into the crook of his arm. "And I wouldn't suggest you boys to steal her away from me either."

The male portion of the clique erupted into laughter, which I do believe was at my expense.

However, I needed to believe in my act as an undoubtedly unwise girl who had a simple mind. I pushed giggles from deep inside my chest to be convincing, though they sounded like tinkling bells. Self-consciously, I coyly joined the female part of the group to attempt social interaction, inwardly hoping I did the role justice.

"Hi, my name's Aki!"

"And my name's Tami."

"Call me Miss Yoko please!"

These girls that sauntered by me proved to be rather kind and affable for members of the privileged popular. But I could hardly determine if they faked it or not. In a world filled with falseness and lies, I would never truly know for sure.

Regretfully, I was placed under constant scrutiny of the girls, who gave me unabashed critiques of how I had applied my cosmetics. They hurled civil suggestions at me, such as the recommendation of putting gray or lavender shadow on my eyelids to accentuate my eyes, which they praised. Aki mentioned that the mascara made me a bit freakish. That made the two more conservative girls protest what they deemed to be harshness. As for the blush, they informed to place enough on so that my cheeks would glow, but not so much as to make them appear garish. I know it's odd that I speak of make-up now; honestly, though, that was what most of the conversation contained. Most of the time, I remained on the receiving end of things, nodding and smiling to show my contrived attentiveness.

All the while I sensed a dark, malevolent force floating above us, which I vaguely suspected of being of supernatural origin. Even though I had thought the fantasy of paranormal activity connected to the Kira killings, I presently tossed them aside. Surely, it couldn't come to something as random and unexpected as that. Perhaps this alleged eerie presence resulted of my paranoia of participating in walking with a crowd. My claustrophobia had gotten the better of me for once, according to my assumptions. But, did I honestly have the phobia, though?

A sight vital to the case nabbed my attention as we passed a mere restaurant; however, a girl, obviously disguised (obvious to me anyway) ogled directly at Light. Most people would have dismissed her as infatuated, but I contrasted from most. Besides, she seemed that and more. I retracted my cellphone from my bag and quickly snapped a photograph of the girl.

"Got you now, you obsessed twit," I muttered under my breath, though Yoko overheard me.

"What are you muttering about, Utako?"

Flashing what I figured must be a cute grin, I replied, "Oh, you won't believe who I just took a picture of!"

I put on a forced air of condescendence as I giggled with the girls over the photo. May God have mercy on my soul.

A/N: V and Light together?!? Whoa, even for undercover purposes, that's just blech! I apologize to the Light fans out there, but I just don't like the dude. But, he's fun to hate, though. You got to admit that. And, hahaha, V wearing make-up?!? Enjoy it while it lasts, guys, for it's not happening ever again. I'm serious about that. So...yeah, I'm not sure that this was the best way for V finding out that Misa might be (is) second Kira, but I was short on options. There's really not much you can exploit with Death Note--it's pretty thorough.

Till Friday, guys, R&R! In the mean time, Thunder Can Destroy Roses will be updated tomorrow, in case anyone's interested.

Oh, and P.S: British slang is awesome!