notes/warnings:
+ swearing. to be honest, I don't think I could write even one paragraph of this fic without someone uttering the f-word.
+ probable crap writing. but hey, if you've gotten to chapter twenty-seven, you've probably become immune to my overuse of the word 'snaps' and my inability to remember anyone's gender or what happened three sentences ago.
Restoration
There are not enough words in the world to explain how angry he is right now, although a tiny, omnipresent part of him points out that Mel probably could have thought of some.
The man and lady don't look at the skeleton, like they're trying to pretend it doesn't exist. And he's no expert on normal human emotion and behaviour, but as far as he can gather, what they're doing doesn't make any sense at all.
They need to deal with this, damnit. Hiding is the last thing anyone should be doing.
"So. Kira's back," he says unnecessarily.
"A new Kira," the lady replies tersely, glancing at him briefly before she turns her attention back to the road. Her fingers grip the steering wheel tightly, and she makes every turn as if her life depends on it.
"Am I missing something?" Mail demands. "Kiras kill with death notes. There is a fuckin' Shinigami in the back of the car –"
"Hello to you, too."
"Shut up. Don't you think that just maybe this is Kira's Shinigami, and it has been sent to herd us all into the same place so we can be lined up and slaughtered like cattle?"
"You know, I don't think I've ever actually agreed with you on anything before," the man says bitterly. "This must be a historic occasion. Naomi, what we're doing is suicide."
"Why would I bother to reveal myself to you at all, then?" the thing asks. "Surely you realise that there are far easier, more believable ways to kill a group of people. Especially for someone wielding a note."
"Not if you don't know the names of any of the people in that group," Mail snarls at it. "Like us."
"I can see your name, Jeevas," the thing deadpans. "If I wanted to help faux-Kira, I'd kill you for her and be done with it. And all of this would be an absolute waste of time."
It has a strange voice, grating and hollow and not-quite-human. Mail wants to jump out of the car and turn on his heels and run and run and run. He never wanted to have to deal with this again. Wasn't it bad enough that they took his boy? Now they're taking his mentor as well?
When did L become in any way parallel to Mel?
"Faux-Kira?" Raye mutters. "You use the same terminology as we do?"
Mail shakes his head fiercely.
"Listen to me," the lady says steadily. "L has been concealing something for a long time. I believe…I believe this Shinigami is his."
He stares at her, jaw slack.
No. Not possible. No!
"So…what?" he says weakly, trying to pull his brain together. "There's another Shinigami out there, one that also belongs…L is… L is…no!"
"Mail," she warns. "Don't. We can't go assuming anything yet."
She's pissed. She's as pissed as he is and then some. After all, she's always been L's number one fan. But there's a faux-Kira out there, apparently, and L has a death note, and has been lying to them, and…
And then it hits him. Everyone knows about Faux-Kira. The lady, the man, the skeleton. They all knew of his existence. Her existence. Whatever. And presumably, so did L.
They've all been fucking hiding things from him.
Mail clenches his right hand into a fist, his lighter a reassuring weight in his pocket.
Fuck you, he thinks, and it is L's betrayal that actually stings. Fuck you, too.
Ralph Whittaker doesn't actually have any opinion on the world's most famous serial killer, but his mate Dave told him about this chick who is paying good money to people for a bit of easy grunt work, provided they say they love Kira.
And right now, he needs some good money. He's got no savings, no job, and twins on the way. The bastards are going to re-mortgage his house if he doesn't pay up in the next two weeks. He'll say he loves just about anyone, for a little dough.
He wants his kids to grow up right. Get an education. And he's prepared to drug and kidnap a few park-going weirdos to meet that end, so that they never have to.
The motor purrs underneath him. The one-eyed old man sleeps soundly, immobile in his chains, head lolling against Dave's arm. Poor guy. Kira-obsessed lady is gonna line him up with all the others and shoot him, or something. Personally, he thinks she's a little bit crazy.
But who is he to complain?
"Hey Dave," he calls. "We're at the roundabout. Where do we go from here?"
Only one team member is allowed to know the point of delivery. In fact, every tiny detail of this whole shebang is being kept pretty quiet. He doesn't know anyone from the other teams, but he presumes they're all like him. Hired thugs. What he does know is that the roads are presently littered with the vehicles of these other teams, each carrying some unlucky person back to Kira-lover to meet their death.
Really, it's enough to make him want to change his mind. Dave huffs at him.
"One right," he mutters. "Three left. Five left. Two right. Ten right. Two left. And that is the last time I'm telling you. I'm not supposed to say it more than once."
"I don't understand why you can't just tell me where we're going, and not just speak in gobbledegook code all the time," he mutters.
"Because it's important, that's why. People might be listening!"
"We know the car isn't bugged or anything. Who's going to be listening? You, me, and snoring guy. That's all."
"People outside the car, then," Dave grits. "People we're passing, right now. Think about it. If anyone follows us, they'll find out where she is."
"Before, or after we get our money?"
"Dude, this bitch kills people who upset her. And we don't even know how. Besides, she's hot. And painfully single."
Ralph rolls his eyes.
"You should try thinking with other parts of your anatomy, occasionally," he comments.
Fifth left. Huh. This is the industrial part of town. Ralph wonders if Kira-lady's base is an abandoned warehouse. He focuses deftly on the road. Dave is right, they can't fuck up. He needs to take the second right.
Funny, how much that old guy is sleeping. Her orders were to re-apply the chloroform every thirty seconds, but he's definitely down for the count. No need, really.
"Whatever," Dave says smugly. "My hormones have saved your ass before."
"It was your hormones that got my ass killed, too," Ralph reminds him. He turns again, and starts counting towards the tenth right turn. They pass an abandoned warehouse, a discount outlet, another park, a block of -
Screeech.
"Holybitchmotherfuck!" Dave screams.
Out of nowhere, a sleek black Sedan pulls out in front of them, side-on, blocking the narrow street entirely. Ralph slams the brake pedal to the floor, and they stop just short of a collision.
He pants, trying to catch his breath. This is wrong. No-one should be trying to stop them. No-one should know.
"Hey!" he yells. "Get out of the way!"
The Sedan doesn't move. Instead, one of the rear windows opens slightly, and the muzzle of a pistol appears.
"Get out of the car!" Dave says, panicked.
"Get out? They've got a fucking gun out there!"
The unknown assailant fires four times, and Ralph feels the car lurch as the tyres give out. A fifth shot shatters the windscreen.
"Fuck!"
Ralph does move, then. He fumbles frantically with his seatbelt and Dave shoves the door open. And then something sharp and stinging connects with his neck, and Dave collapses against the car, and then there is nothing.
Nothing.
"Right, so I'm not allowed to shoot at cars with people still inside, but you totally are," Mail sneers, shoving his bangs out of his face.
"I knew what I was doing," Naomi reasons distractedly, hurrying over to the other car. "I knew I wouldn't hit anyone."
She moves quickly because she has to. The blow-darts are not particularly potent, and she needs to know that L is unharmed. The Shinigami told her he would be in the back of the car, drugged and bound. She neatly handcuffs the thug lying on the ground, and pushes him towards Mail. They'll take both of them in for questioning, of course, but that's not her primary concern right now.
"Oh. He's here," Raye mutters, peering into the car.
"Oh, thank god," Naomi says, a little off-balance. She practically shoves her husband out of the way to reveal one sleepy-but-quite conscious L, effectively immobilised by chains, and bound to the middle of the back seat.
Unharmed. Wonderfully unharmed. She is going to kick his fucking ass. All she wants is for him to prove, somehow, right fucking now, that he isn't the fake Kira and he has nothing to do with Kira. And neither his word – nor the word of his pet – are going to convince her. She needs evidence. Real evidence.
Mail picks the lock in a matter of seconds, his glare murderous. L regards them both dimly.
"Hallo," he says quietly. "I cannot really think adequately right now, but I believe know how to work out where they were going. I feigned sleep when the chloroform wore off, and there were instructions. My memory is a little hazy, but…why did you come looking for me, anyway?"
He regards each of them intently, and, apparently finding no answers amongst the glowers, turns back to Naomi.
"N?"
"Hallo, L," she says sweetly. "Who is this?"
She points at the razor-blade skeleton with a cold smile.
L's eyes flicker from the tip of her index finger, to the god of death, and back again.
"I don't understand –"
"You can't see it, L?" she demands. "You can't see the Shinigami?"
L freezes, completely unresponsive for a number of seconds. Then he sags, his expression miserable and deadened.
"You told them?" he asks dejectedly.
It isn't the tone of a man who kills people, Naomi assures herself. He's too calm. Clearly he's done nothing wrong.
Why is he keeping secrets in the first place, if he's done nothing wrong?
"You did something stupid," the thing hisses. "Another two minutes and faux-Kira would have had your name and face. What was I supposed to do?"
Delicately, he pulls himself free from the remains of the car and hunches in front of them, looking exhausted and miserable. Naomi fervently wishes she could erase the last fifteen minutes of her life.
She never wanted to know this.
"N," he breathes. "R. M. This is Rae. It works with me."
The giant skeleton inclines its head ever so slightly.
"Nice to meet you."
Naomi isn't certain whether it's the circumstances, or her own illness, or some irrational jealousy that someone else is working closely with her hero, but she is suddenly and absolutely sure of one thing.
She hates this Shinigami with every fibre of her being.
"So, what do we do?" Raye whispers, apparently under the misconception that L cannot hear him. "Do we lock him up?"
"He's still our boss," Naomi replies. She sounds shocked by his words, but L knows that she will not have underestimated his hearing, so anything she says will have been modified for his benefit.
"But there's a killer on the loose, and now he's…look, even if he's not killing all of them-"
"He's L," she says with a finality that brings a faint smile to L's lips. Naomi is loyal to him. His only genuine supporter.
Or perhaps not.
"You brought this on yourself," Rae growls, apparently sensing his eyes on the back of its skull. "Don't blame me. My only other option was to let you die."
"How did you know where I would be?" he enquires, fascinated.
"Why wouldn't it know?" Raye demands loudly. "Actually, why wasn't it with you?"
"It was running surveillance for me in Sacramento," L explains. "Rae?"
"And why the hell does it have the same fucking name as me?"
"Ryuk," Rae pronounces. "Another Shinigami came by and bragged to me about what his mistress had done. By that point, you were already unconscious and bound, and there was very little I could do."
L touches his chin.
"You said that it was faux-Kira who captured me. We can presume he is the… mistress of the Shinigami? A woman?"
"According to Ryuk, yes. The new Kira is female. She knew the detective L would be in that park," Rae replies darkly. "She sent a message under Rem's name."
L jerks, a visceral response.
"How would she know about my accord with Rem?"
"Her Shinigami told her."
"Ryuk?"
"Yes."
"Whoa, whoa, hold on," Raye says angrily. "Who is Rem? How many of these things do you have, L?"
"Just Rae," L assures him. "Rem was simply a friend."
"But this…this Rae-thing," Naomi says quietly. "You own its death note?"
"You befriended a Shinigami?"
L picks through his words carefully. He will answer his colleagues with as much honesty as he can, but he is not yet ready to reveal what he knows about the inner workings of hell. Some details must be glossed over.
His team is falling apart. Naomi and Mail may never trust him again. He knows how it looks, although there is no direct evidence to place him as faux-Kira, his circumstances are distinctly unfavourable. At best, they will all leave. At worst, they'll have him convicted as a murderer. He needs marshmallows. He's not going to get through this conversation without them.
And Rae saved him.
"I was initially frightened of my own Shinigami," L explains. "I had encountered Rem during the original Kira case. She was very kind."
"Kind?" Raye spits. "L. Don't you understand that these things are evil? What they do…what they do to people. What they bring to humanity. What they are?"
"I'm right here, you know," Rae says coldly. "I can hear you."
"Then why don't you strike me down?" Raye roars, a challenge. "Come on, Shinigami. That's what you're so good at, isn't it?"
"No," Mail says, voice sickly and horrible. "No, kill me first. Kill me."
"That'd be counterproductive," Rae comments. "I can't send you back to your boyfriend, you know."
"Don't call him that!" Mail hisses, his face deathly white. "God, he'd never. He's better than that. Fuckin'...fuckin' don't!"
There was a time – L is sure there was a time – when Rae wouldn't have given a damn about human relationships. It has changed so much since he first met it.
He cannot comprehend why. Watari used to occasionally tell him that he changed people, but he had always presumed the 'for the worst' had been heavily implied. Yet Rae is definitely better than before.
"Why would Rem allow someone to pose as her?" L queries. "You know she loves me. Why didn't she come to protect me?"
Rae stares at him evenly.
"I'll tell you later," it promises.
"Tell us now!" Raye bellows. "No more secrets!"
"Who says we cannot have secrets?" L asks, voice low and scrutinising. "We have not signed our lives over to each other."
"Apparently we have, since you know our names and faces!"
"Raye!"
"I have not killed anyone," L says firmly. "I have not, and I would not."
"Prove it," Naomi advises.
"Nobody trusts a liar," her husband adds.
There is absolutely, positively, no way at all that L can prove he received the death note years before faux-Kira came along.
"Excuse me?" Mail asks Raye. "Nobody trusts a filthy fuckin' hypocrite, either. And you were quite happy to hide the fact that we were working another Kira case!"
"Mail!" L says, reaching for him. Mail will leave him. Mail will snap and leave him, especially since he has no proof.
"Do you have the death note? Where do you keep it, L?" Mail asks nastily, rounding on him.
It is safely strapped under his shirt, but L knows that isn't really what his protégé wants to know. He is simply pointing out that it is there. The potential is there. The temptation is there. Always there.
He could not have set up a test of loyalty this accurate if he'd planned it. Raye suspects him of murder, Naomi doesn't want to suspect him, and Mail is….Mail.
And Rae saved him.
There is a soft, rhythmic knock at the door, and Watari enters politely with a platter of boiled sweets, L's only salvation.
Although he would have preferred marshmallows.
"Thank you," he murmurs.
"Watari!" Raye says quickly. "Has L ever killed anyone, to your knowledge?"
Watari speaks neither for nor against him. He is simply a loyal employee. Raye will glean nothing from this interrogation.
"He has a death note," Mail points out, with a hateful little glare in L's direction.
"M…"
"Don't talk to me! You fuckin'…you betrayed me!"
"Why? Because I do this? Because I keep a murderous notebook away from all other humans and safeguard it?"
"I don't know if I can believe that," Naomi says sadly. "Even I would be tempted to use it once or twice."
Watari regards each of them in turn. His eyes skip right over Rae, and his gaze lingers on L's for a long second, asking permission. L nods.
"That notebook came to L over four years ago," he says diplomatically.
A thick, awkward silence descends over the room, and L can practically see the gears turning in his team-mates' heads.
"Can he see you?" he asks Rae quietly.
"Nope. I have immunity from anyone who touched the note before I showed up, to prevent others from interfering with my task."
"How's that going for you?" L asks ruefully.
"Will you stop talking to it?" Raye demands, scrubbing at his temples.
"This Kira has only just started," Naomi says out loud. "If L has had his note for years…there would be no cause to start now. Would there?"
"I hate you," Mail adds, but the viciousness in his voice has eased a little.
"I…take it there is a Shinigami in the room, L?" Watari asks gently. Without a word, L unfastens the death note and passes it to him.
Watari takes it and regards Rae calmly.
"I see."
"Give it to N," L instructs.
"What?" Naomi says, astonished.
"What?" Rae sputters.
Trust me, L thinks.
"Listen, all of you," he tells them. "I have shaken your confidence, and I accept that. But there are things that need to be done. Each of you needs to decide whether you are prepared to continue working with me. N, it is up to you whether I ought to be convicted or not. While you hold the note, I cannot harm anyone. You can take as much time as you need to decide my fate. You have my word that I will go quietly."
"I don't," Naomi says, and then stops. She's holding the note with the very tips of her fingers, as if it might bite her at any second.
L hates the fact that he's using Light's strategy on his own team. If the killings continue, then he ought to be innocent. And they will. Because faux-Kira has no reason to stop.
"This is stupid," Rae grumbles.
"As for me, I will stay here and keep working on the new case," L continues, making his way over to the stairs. "Tell me when you reach a conclusion."
L closes his door, carefully leaving it unlocked, and then folds himself into his favourite chair. He exhales, long and slow. This is terrible. He needs to defeat faux-Kira. He cannot let himself be incapacitated, not yet.
But he is minimising damage, through his actions. If he is neither running nor protesting, then his capture will be quick, and it will not take long for Naomi to realise that there is another Kira she must locate and arrest.
Dear god, he hopes it doesn't come to that. He is not ready to give this job up. He is not ready to leave them. And it had honestly never occurred to him that he might meet his end in jail.
He wants a witch-hunt, at the very least. He wants drama and glory. He does not wish to be L, just another Kira. He does not wish to be a wannabe-Light.
He fires up his computer, and is stupidly relieved when he realises Rae has followed him into the room.
"Hallo," he says warmly. "Will you continue to help me with this case?"
The Shinigami grips the back of his chair and pulls violently, until L is staring at its upside-down face, on the verge of toppling if it releases him.
"What the hell did you do that for?" it rasps. "That note belongs to you!"
"However, I can lease it to whomever I choose, correct?" L asks. "Those are the rules, I've been told."
"I don't care about the rules! We had an accord!"
"Our accord was also that we would both protect the note from being uncovered by anyone else. You did not keep your end of the bargain, either."
"Fuck you, you were going to die!"
"And that bothered you?"
"It ought to bother you! Miserable fucking detective you turned out to be!"
If it drops him now, he will be hurt, perhaps seriously. L uncurls himself awkwardly, reaches out with his legs, and attempts to hook one foot around the leg of the table.
In all honesty, he doesn't think it will let him go.
"So another Shinigami is interfering with the human world," he surmises, trying to get Rae to focus on the task at hand. "Does Ryuk have unusual motives, like yourself? Shinigami do not usually become involved to such an extent."
Its eyes are light brown, the colour of caramel, of Grace's toffee. Perhaps a shade closer to red than they've been in a while. If L can get it riled enough…
But it is riled. It is absolutely, positively angry. It is practically radiating rage. L doesn't understand.
"Stop trying to change the damn subject! You told me you didn't trust anyone else with that notebook."
"I trust Naomi more than the others," L replies quietly.
"That's not good enough! She said herself that she'd be tempted to use it! I thought you would be smart enough to realise that a notebook that powerful can't be given to just anyone."
"So, what?" L asks thoughtfully. "You concede I am at least somewhat ethical? I thought I was evil personified."
"You don't use it to kill innocent people. Not using it at all is better than using it out of spite, or greed, or revenge!" Rae pontificates, gesturing dramatically with its free hand.
"So, hold on. I'm safe, and Light was responsible, but everyone else is dangerous?"
Being considered to be below Light on the scale of morality is the worst sort of insult he can possibly imagine. Even coming from Rae. Especially coming from Rae, perhaps.
And then something else clicks.
"Not using it at all is better?" he asks softly. "What, does that mean you don't even care about being king, as long as the note isn't abused?"
Rae's mouth snaps shut, and it stares at him as if it has just been stung. L feels his chair being slowly pushed into the upright position, and it surprises him how much he trusts his giant skeleton monster.
I've said it now, he thinks, fascinated. Rae remains rooted to the spot, its head moving slowly from side to side, as if attempting to deny some fact to itself.
L is suddenly struck by the bizarre notion that maybe Rae has never actually investigated its own morals and motives before. That it has always presumed itself to think and act a certain way, and then never questioned that.
Which makes sense, if the Shinigami is protecting itself from some hidden emotion that locks its eyes and damages its powers. L would be wary of introspection, too, were he in such a delicate position.
And why? Illness? Disability? Love? What has changed in Rae so abruptly? Surely a Shinigami carrying such a drastic weakness would not be chosen as heir to the throne, so the condition must be new.
Unless the condition is part of the test.
Or unless Rae was never destined to be king.
"It's all right," L says gently. "Your motives are your own. You do not have to justify yourself to me."
"I want people to be safe," it tells him, with conviction.
"Humans, or Shinigami?"
"Both."
"Then," L says with a tiny smile, "the rest should be easy."
"Really, Miss Marple? And what if the others are not convinced of your innocence? What if Naomi never gives back the note?"
"Then you ought to do everything you can to bring faux-Kira to justice," L tells it. "Then you can be assured the note will come back to me. You want that quite badly, don't you?"
Still convinced I am a free ticket, Shinigami?
Ah, but do you care? How much do you care? Because if you don't care about being king, then that must mean you genuinely care about me.
No, that cannot be. You must want to be king.
Nothing makes sense, unless its earlier comment about everyone else being dangerous is considered to be a slip of the tongue, a poorly thought-out argument. Yes.
Ninety-eight percent certainty.
"Of course. I already told you, I want this to be as easy as possible. You are guaranteed to use the note."
"Responsibly?"
"I believe so," Rae says grudgingly. "What do you want me to do about the case? You said you thought you knew where they were taking you?"
"Yes. Did Ryuk tell you anything else about his current…human?"
"No, and I was a little too busy to follow him when he left," Rae sneers.
"I see. If you can find him again, can you persuade him to help us?"
"No."
"He will not even follow instructions from his own future monarch?"
Rae groans.
"It doesn't work like that, L. We don't tell each other how to handle humans. That's a personal decision."
"I see," L muses. "Why on earth would Ryuk warn you of my fate?"
"Because that Shinigami has just one goal, L," Rae says derisively. "To be entertained."
"And can you convince him that turning in his mistress would be more entertaining than helping her?"
"You'd have better luck trying to convince a cactus of the same thing."
L raises his eyebrows.
"Do you get along with any of your kind?"
"Now who's not focusing?" Rae demands. "Tell me where this place is!"
"It has to be the abandoned meatworks along Dutton Road," L surmises, opening up a map of the general area on his computer. "I heard the instructions - a crude list of lefts and rights - which lead to this building here."
"A meatworks. Lovely," the Shinigami replies with disgust.
"I want you to scour the place for evidence," L requests. "And then contact me as soon as you are finished, unless the nature of your findings precludes an urgent situation. I trust you will make the right decisions."
Rae laughs.
"You're giving me free reign?"
L regards it quizzically. Rae has always had free reign. He can hardly control the damn thing.
"The biggest problem is not going to be identifying faux-Kira," he explains. "But rather, obtaining solid evidence of her crimes. We must find out who she is quickly, so that we can concentrate on making her slip up and reveal herself."
The same problem as last time. Sometimes L is ridiculously glad that he has Rae. Anything to give him an edge. Anything.
"All right. This should take me two hours, maximum," Rae informs him. "If you leave the building, I will fucking kill you."
"Understood," L intones, and smiles.
Naomi rests her head against the cool table, her tea sitting abandoned by her chair. She's too tired for this shit.
Actually, 'tired' seems to be a permanent state of being for her, lately. When she's like this, she can't help but wonder if Kira is controlling her again. And she knows her fear is an irrational one. There's no way that anyone from the outside world could know her name and her face, especially not before she's even started properly investigating this case. But still.
Now there's the possibility that Kira isn't a part of the 'outside world'. He might be right in the building, right now, and she doesn't even want to think about it.
Her idol. Her dream. Her boss.
He wouldn't, would he?
Raye thumps his computer a few times, probably more out of a need to relieve pent-up anger than any actual percussive maintenance.
"Mail?" she says, reaching a decision.
"What, lady?" the younger man snaps.
"What do you know of the Shinigami?" she asks carefully. "You are the only person here who was around when things were being discovered about them."
"I've never even seen one," he informs her, his voice sullen and unpleasant.
"And what of their motives? Why do they distribute death notes, and for how long?"
"Eh?"
Naomi tugs at her hair.
"I'm just trying to understand why L would keep a note for so long, if he truly has no intention of using it. Why not just give it back?"
"He asked me to destroy it on several occasions," Watari interrupts politely. "I presume this was specifically forced on him."
"Does all this psychobabble stuff really matter?" Raye asks. "We need to stop trying to understand frigging monsters and try to work out if L's murdering people or not."
"Another criminal was just killed," Mail says gruffly, and Naomi springs from her chair and rushes to his side. His computer is presently broadcasting the top-secret feed that the US government has set up to record faux-Kira's victims. The world is still managing to conceal the existence of this new Kira from the general public, so collating information in such a way is ideal.
The new Kira is female, if Rae is to be believed. If she can convince herself that it cannot possibly be L.
"So they were," Raye says disdainfully. "So what?"
"So I have the notebook," Naomi reminds him. "Which means that someone else just killed that person."
"The same someone else who killed all the others, hopefully," Mail adds.
Even you, she thinks, with some fondness. Even you, who feels so wronged, even you want to believe he's innocent.
Didn't everyone want to believe Light was innocent, too?
She shakes her head. L is not Light, no matter how she looks at it. L went through the hell that was the original Kira case. L saves people. He saves people. And not by destroying other people, either.
Watari touches her on the shoulder. He almost never makes physical contact with anyone. He must be as tremendously unnerved as the rest of the team.
"N," he says seriously. "Do you think he's capable of these terrible things?"
No one has asked her that yet, not directly. She frowns. What does he think she's spent the last three hours worrying about? She's been running through every conversation, every case, every word, every moment, trying to convince herself whether or not L has the moral capacity to kill. Like this.
Like Light.
"I think you already know," Watari says kindly. "You are just unwilling to say so."
"What I think isn't enough," she replies firmly. "I need evidence."
"There will be no evidence, if he is innocent."
"We're not finding any evidence," Mail says, quickly.
Yes. He was your mentor, just as he was mine. We don't want to think…
"He's had the note for four years, you said," Raye mutters. "He spoke of other Shinigami. He's been solving a huge number of cases lately, probably with this thing's help."
"But none of the cases have had supporting evidence through the convenient death of a key figure," Mail tells him. "L would use it to solve cases more than anything, wouldn't he? I mean, he let that Lind guy get murdered in order to locate Kira. He's not opposed to letting people die in the name of greater justice, and yet he hasn't used the note to solve cases."
"Light was a good liar," Naomi reminds him, hating herself a little for it.
"L is a good liar," Raye points out.
"And?" Mail asks. "Is that it? I can't even trust the fucking bastard any more, but I don't think he's Kira. Criminals are being killed right now. The timing makes no sense. He would not have organised his own kidnapping. He isn't running away. There is no evidence."
"I don't care what you say, Watari," Raye says blackly. "Absence of evidence is not the same as evidence of innocence."
"Then disagree with this," Mail says vehemently. "The pattern is wrong. The last thing L would ever do is emulate the original Kira."
And there it is. What she's been looking for. She sort of wants to cry from the enormity of it all.
"That's…that's true, I suppose," Raye says awkwardly. "But-"
"He's right," Naomi interrupts, viscerally relieved. "L is the last person…I won't entertain this notion a second longer."
"Hold up," her husband calls, panicked. "Naomi, you can't be certain. This is…far from conclusive. You could be wrong."
Naomi regards him for a long second.
"We could always be wrong," she says, finally. "That's a risk we take, isn't it? Have we no respect for him at all?"
"I hate his fucking guts," Mail says viciously.
"And yet you've been his strongest supporter throughout this discussion," Naomi says curiously. "Why?"
Mail shrugs and touches his rosary.
"I dunno. It's what he would have done. I think."
Naomi feels strangely at peace. She's made her decision. L will not be locked up. L will lead the investigation. Everything is out of her hands.
Including this godforsaken notebook. She can practically feel it burning a hole into the table next to her hand. She's tempted to write down 'Light Yagami', just so they can all sleep a little better in their beds at night. Just to be safe.
God, how does L put up with this thing? How is he so strong?
She knew he was strong. That's why she was drawn to him in the first place. It's this illness. This mental haze. She's been doubting herself. An unexpected thing is not the same as a malevolent thing, and a weapon alone does not an evil man make.
So she goes to take the death note back to L. Sealing the fate of the world, one way or the other. Because that's what they do.
Jas blows her hair out of her eyes and folds her arms. Then she unfolds them, fiddles with the cuff of her expensive suit, and scratches her stubble.
She's not overly fond of playing Big Jason, but that isn't what's bothering her right now.
"Tell me once more what happened, right from the start," she orders. Because she's sure of one thing, she should have needed to go and rescue L at the last minute.
And she didn't.
"Look, I just did what you told me to do," Ryuk says defensively. He jiggles his spindly knees against the dashboard. "Geeze, there isn't much room in this car. Can't we go somewhere el-"
"No! Answer the question, Ryuk."
"Fine," he says petulantly. "I went to the headquarters, I said what you wanted me to say, the brat freaked out and hit people with the death note, and then they went and crashed a car and saved L and that's all. And now my new charge is flipping her lid because someone was lost and she's convinced it was the real L. Which it was, heh."
"And you followed the script exactly?"
"Yup. Told her I'd report to you when L was actually dead. She's pretty annoyed with me right now. It's kinda funny."
"And she has no sense of disbelief, to your knowledge?" the queen asks carefully. One thing at a time.
"No, she's buying it. She's frightened. And she's enough in awe of Big Jason to believe that he's able to bully a poor little Shinigami like myself," Ryuk grins.
"And…the other?"
Because she's uneasy. She gives everyone a chance, but sometimes she'd really like to throw away the key. There are people the world would be better off without.
Sometimes, she'd like to play god. She would like to be the ultimate justice. She could be. She has the note. Nothing would stop her.
"Also buying it, don't worry. To tell you the truth, I'm kinda disappointed."
"This is bad, Ryuk," she says tersely. "This is very bad."
"Hey, don't worry about it," he says easily. "You don't interfere with people's hells, you stick to the script, if they get out, then they're good people. Right? So don't worry."
"I will worry," she barks. "Worrying is what I do!"
"Lately, yes," he says.
He's always good for pointing out the damn obvious.
"It's been hard lately. There have been…borderline humans."
"Uh huh. You're still unhappy about Wakefield, aren't you? She passed her test! She's not your problem any more."
Unconsciously, the queen touches the locket around her neck. She has photographs of all of her charges. Most of them are in her home in the Shinigami realm. But there are a few she keeps on her person.
If Keehl doesn't redeem himself, maybe she will have to rethink her own methods.
"Oh no, now you're fawning over blondie again," Ryuk says disgustedly. "I am outta here!"
"Wait!" she commands. One more instruction, and then she can be temporarily rid of his company.
"Er, yes?"
"You still have another task for tonight, Ryuk. You will follow the script, won't you?"
He shifts his weight from foot to foot, such an inanely human habit.
"It does seem kind of unfair," he says hesitantly.
"That is not for you to decide?"
"Is it for you to decide?" he ventures. He's too goddamned daring. She ought to send him straight back to the king.
But no one else will work quite as well. She can trust him. She's, like, eighty percent sure.
"Guilty conscience, Ryuk?"
"No," he mutters, but does not meet her eyes.
"Good. Then I will consider it done. See you tomorrow."
He flutters off into the distance, still grumbling to himself. Jas sighs and slumps against the seat. She misses Rebecca. She just wants a break. Some time away from all the evil souls in this world, and the impossible task of judging them.
But if Lawliet is still going, then she can keep going, too.
She is not about to be outdone by a human, no matter how brilliant.
Naomi places the note on the table, and leaves without a word, and the pieces of L's world come back together just like that.
Rae still has not returned.
Failure.
She flinches, and pushes the hair from her face. L escaped. He escaped, the bastard. He was drugged and chained and locked in the back of a car, and he still escaped. Clearly, his hired help outclasses her own.
She will not make that mistake again.
Failure.
The word echoes around her head. She hears it in Light's voice, cold and beautiful and ruthless, chiding her for her mistakes, for making him wait. It must be tremendously undignifying for him, to be at the mercy of a petty crook like Jason.
And really, this entire unfortunate situation can be almost completely blamed on L. Him, and his damned, pathetic little successors. She will feel no pity when she kills him. Those who defy Kira are inevitably bad, rotten people. Why else would they stand in the way of a perfect, happy world?
Now all she needs to do is catch him. See his face, read his name, and the rest is history. And once she knows his name, she and Light will be able to banish him from any world they choose, a never-ending cycle of running and dying, no more than he deserves.
Realistically, there is always the chance that L never went to the park. If that is the case, then the Shinigami's advice can be considered completely useless.
She was a fool to trust it in the first place. From now on, she will do this alone. With the help of the death note, of course. But disregarding its errant owner.
"Are we gonna go back to the meatworks?" he asks, hanging over her like a bad smell.
"I don't think that would be useful," she says, with a bright little smile. "The last man to die killed himself by detonating a few explosives."
Just in case anyone tracked her. Just in case anyone goes looking for evidence. She cannot afford any more setbacks. Light is waiting. He doesn't like to wait.
And damn Jason and his damn Shinigami aren't going to make her tardy.
"Ah, got it. So is this your next move?" he asks, long fingers twirling in front of her computer screen. "You're going to advertise online to find fellow Kira supporters? Don't you think L is maybe going to see this website and try to use it to get to you?"
"I'm counting on that," she replies, confidently.
Rae gets back around midnight, a good five hours after it left, looking decidedly worse for wear.
"She killed them," it says, sounding vacant and disbelieving. "They were already dead by the time I got there."
"All the other people who went to Staton park today?" L guesses.
"Yes. And don't ask me who they were. Even if my vision were working, all I found was a collapsed building and a lot of exploded body parts."
L sighs and touches his lips.
"Clever. Since the bodies are no longer identifiable, it would be impossible to locate anyone else who might have been there at the time. But this information is not useless, either."
"Right," Rae agrees monotonously. "Her actions are brutal but simple-minded."
"Yes," L agrees indulgently. "I doubt the original Kira has a hand in this. Nothing she has done so far has been particularly clever, except when she was guided by her Shinigami."
"I told you so."
"I wanted proof," L says simply.
Not Light. Not Light. This is good. Anyone else, he can handle. He breathes deeply and closes his eye for a few seconds.
"So now we don't have to worry about you doing her job for her and giving yourself a heart attack, I guess," Rae says distantly, cracking its knuckles.
L frowns. His Shinigami is fidgety and distracted. Abnormal. And it is very, very late.
"Of course, from today's events, we can also conclude that she must be attempting to kill me, specifically," he says quietly. "What happened, Rae? What is wrong?"
"My maximum speed has been handicapped," it says, voice as soft as his. "I…I don't. I don't know why. Yet."
L freezes.
"What? Why? You told me that only your eyes were affected. You told me-"
"I told you I didn't know what was going on!" it says harshly. "I don't! This is. I. It's not…"
"I need to figure this out," L says, wringing his hands. He displays his fear and concern overtly. "I have not even been thinking about your disability."
If this is all a lie, if Rae is trying to emotionally blackmail him into using the death note, then it will ask him to make it king right now. In a pathetic, frightened little voice, he imagines.
"No. Focus on your goddamned faux-Kira case. We had an agreement, remember?"
L stares at it. The bright light from the lamp throws shadows over its face, along the deep ridges and sharp edges of its bony body, making it look more insidious, more sinister than usual. Appearances can be so deceiving. He knows that.
You are not who I thought you were, he thinks. This is incredible, really. In any other situation, he'd be more intrigued than anything else.
But he has a responsibility to this thing, now. This death god that tries to protect people and solve cases and saved his goddamned life.
And yet, that all came about around the same time that its eyes changed. Before that it was a demon, monstrous and remorseless. It was happy when Matsuda was killed. It tortured him for days on end. It would have cheerfully left him to die. It made Rem cry.
Of course, even then, it had always wanted him to use the note against evil. Not just anyone. So had it simply been tailoring its suggestions to what it thought would appeal to him? Or has it always kept to some strange notion of justice?
And did the eyes cause the change in personality, or are they simply representative? Is this some Jekyll-and-Hyde creature that shifts backwards and forwards based on some unknown trigger, or has it genuinely evolved?
And why is it becoming more debilitated as its apparent morality improves? There are certainly good Shinigami in the world, and Rem always seemed to operate at full capacity. What is it being punished for?
Why would anyone want this unstable thing as king?
It saved him.
"All right," he concedes. "But please take care of yourself. I will help you if you need me."
"I don't need you."
"Fine," L says steadily. "We are alone now. Tell me what happened to Rem."
"Oh," it says tiredly, and sits down next to his chair. "Rem is dead."
L turns that statement over in his mind a few times.
"Dead?" he echoes. "What? How?"
"I don't know. I only heard about it from the other Shinigami."
L shoves an entire blackberry cupcake into his mouth, and chews furiously.
"Sho sheef fnot-"
"Swallow and try again, dick," Rae says testily.
"Ugh, sorry. So death means she cannot return to this world any more, either."
Which means that Rem is where Misa will be, if Misa manages to save herself from hell. Wait, does Rem still love Misa, if she loves him now? Will she forget about him?
He's not sure how he feels about that. No-one has ever been in love with him before. And as much as he wants Rem to be freed from the confines of her treacherous heart, he would rather that she stay with someone like him than go back to Misa, who will at best ignore and at worst abuse her infatuation.
And he…he misses Rem. She was his ally. And she was powerful.
She was tantamount to Matsuda, in the way she made him feel secure.
He is becoming more and more alone in the world.
A thought strikes him.
"Who did she attempt to save?" he asks softly. "Do you know how she died? Did she die for me?"
If that is true, then he is not certain that he can live with that fact. No-one should die for him. He is meant to save people.
"I don't know, for sure," Rae says slowly. "But I know it was strange. Something happened. The others say she was deliberately killed."
"How does one murder a Shinigami?" L asks, bewildered. "That does not make any sense."
"The queen can do it, apparently," Rae says with obvious disgust. "The queen can kill the others, if she chooses to. I don't know why the king gives the stupid bint so much power."
"The queen?"
If he remembers correctly, both Rem and Rae have mentioned the queen in conjunction with hell.
'It's part of my hell to know the fate of others, I suppose. She tells me things, sometimes.'
'Who is she? What does she know?'
'Do not ask me that. One should never discuss the queen.'
"Rae," he says carefully. "What does the queen actually do?"
"I don't know."
"Yes, but what do the rumours say?"
Rae shifts and flexes its arms.
"From what I've heard, most of the others think she holds a decorative position. The more dramatic occasionally claim she controls hell itself."
L's eyes widen.
"That's a fairly large discrepancy."
Rae shrugs.
"Secrecy brings out the conspiracy theorists."
"You don't believe it, then?" L enquires. "I would have thought you'd be the type to investigate all the possibilities, Shinigami."
"It's rubbish."
"You know for sure?"
"Doesn't it sound like a load of rubbish to you, L? No one controls hell."
L tilts his head, the tip of his thumb touching his lower teeth. If the queen controls hell, and the queen killed Rem, then Rem is…then Rem has been redeemed.
The thought makes him singularly happy.
And…why is Rae so convinced? Is this part of the present-king's plan to keep it utterly ignorant to the structure of the Shinigami world? Why?
He hops out of his chair, kicks it to the side, and crouches beside Rae on the floor.
"Or is that what she wants you to think?"
Rae rolls its eyes at him.
"Whatever. I'm not frightened of the queen."
"Rem said you could not harm her because she was in the queen's jurisdiction," L continues. "We know Rem was in hell, so-"
"Whoa, wait. What? Seriously?"
"You didn't know?"
This is…no, this is not good.
"Why would I know something like that? She doesn't talk to me. Besides, she's been around forever."
L shakes his head slowly.
"Why are you not bothered by this? It's like…"
It is as if Rae has been programmed to be unable to question its own situation. And now it is coming apart.
L is beginning to get a tremendous sense of unfair surrounding his Shinigami's situation. And he'll be damned if he isn't going to do something about that.
"It's like this. Rem is not my favourite person. She has always hated me, and not for any particularly good reason. In return, I've never really learned much of her situation."
"Fine," L says doubtfully. "But look at it this way. The evidence is piling up for the connection between the queen and hell."
"Hardly."
"What would it take for you to take me to the queen?"
"I can't take you," Rae says exasperatedly. "She wanders. She goes wherever she wants. She has a home somewhere the no other Shinigami can reach unless she lets them. She shows up when she wants something from you, and I'm hoping that never happens to me."
"I understand," L says politely, although he doesn't. "One more question, please."
"Fine."
"Would you know her, if you saw her?"
Rae ponders this for a moment.
"Possibly not, I suppose."
L nods firmly. The conversation is over. He will get no more useful information from Rae in its present state.
I will fix you. I will work this out, and I will fix you.
The sky beyond the window is ink-blue and endless, studded with stars. Sometimes L wonders how many more people he can save.
How much time does he have left? In this world, in the next world, in any world?
If he can teach Rae everything he knows, and the Shinigami goes on protecting the innocent, then he will be immortal. The legend will live forever, long after the man has perished. Yes, he would like that.
Will he even see Rae again, once the five years are over?
L reaches out, and wraps three of his fingers around Rae's lowest rib.
"The men who captured me gave no useful information," he says conversationally. "One of them has laid eyes on the woman who hired them, and described her as Asian in appearance, slender build, and long dark hair."
"That doesn't exactly narrow things down spectacularly."
"No. And of course, the chance is high that she is just an agent for the real faux-Kira. They also believe that this woman is trying to destroy 'some big name detective, I dunno', because apparently that will bring back the original Kira."
Which is not possible. Light is in hell. And he is evil, through and through, rotten to the core, no heart, no soul, nothing with which to redeem himself. L doesn't have to worry.
Rae is here. L doesn't have to worry.
"Somehow, I think she's just crazy," Rae says flippantly. "Besides, it's not as if you're keeping Kira prisoner in your bathroom. I don't see how killing you is supposed to achieve anything."
"If…," L starts, hesitates, and starts again. "If by some incredible catastrophe Light is not in hell – and he is here, somewhere, hiding – then it is not impossible that he is unwilling to show his face until I am gone. But I severely doubt he would hold me in such high regard."
And his name is in the Tracking Library. He's not here, damnit. People need to stop insinuating that he might be.
"You save a lot of people," Rae comments. "You must be worth some regard, at least."
Absently, L reaches inside its chest, tracing rough costal edges. The fire doesn't burn him, doesn't affect him at all. Shinigami are biologically fascinating. Theoretically, he'd love to dissect one.
Of course, being gods, there probably wouldn't be much to see.
"I doubt it," he says bitterly. "I was destroyed far too easily."
"Whatever," Rae says, maybe a little awkwardly. "That was a long time ago, wasn't it? You need to stop dwelling on the past. You need to beat this faux-Kira first, and then you'll never have to worry about the real Kira suddenly crawling out from under your bed and stabbing you."
"Thank you. Now I will have to check under my bed every night for the next month," L says, making a face. "Also, the death note is in my possession again. We will be working with the rest of my team. I hope this is not too much of a setback for you."
"No, it's fine," Rae says tersely. It seems strangely tense, all of a sudden. "Uh. Do you want me to search this town for Ryuk?"
"Not tonight," L replies. "Faux-Kira will be on the move right now. We should wait until she is settled, otherwise we will be wasting resources. Especially if your speed has been crippled."
"Fair point."
"Besides, I ought to sleep tonight. I would like you to watch over the death note. I don't need to tell you that now there is an increased risk that someone will attempt to steal it."
After all, his entire team now knows that he carries it with him. Which makes it five times less safe than before, no matter how much he trusts them.
The death note corrupts people. It turns them into the worst kind of creatures. Light was once someone like him. He knows that. It keeps him strong.
"Yeah, fine. Look, can you stop doing that now?"
L's hand stills against cool, flat bone, and he regards his Shinigami questioningly.
"Stop what?"
"Your hand is inside my chest," Rae grits.
"Oh. Does it hurt?"
Why do you not disappear, then, L wonders, grimly suspecting that he already knows the answer to that.
It is losing its powers.
"No, but it's uncomfortable. That's kind of an intimate thing to do to somebody."
L raises his eyebrows, but he doesn't withdraw his hand. Not yet. Not quite.
"Oh. Do Shinigami feel pleasure, Rae? You are not stopping me."
"Stop yourself, damn you!"
L moves his thumb, stroking ever so slightly. Rae grips his forearm, and throws L's hand back against his chest.
"Enough!" it snarls.
L doesn't move for a few seconds.
"Have you lost your ability to become immaterial?" he asks softly.
Rae gets abruptly to its feet, knocking him sprawling across the floor.
"Go to sleep," it says hoarsely. "Or find something to do. Leave me alone."
L gets into bed without another word, and feigns sleep for a long time before he actually drifts off. Perhaps there are some things in the world that he simply cannot fix, some problems that he simply cannot solve.
Mello.
Rae.
But he hates and despises losing, child that he is. So he's going to try, damnit. Maybe until it kills him.
Ryuk ambles through the wall, and exaggeratedly avoids even looking at the bowl of fruit. Let it never be said that he doesn't learn from past disappointments. Especially if they involve apples.
L is curled up in a tiny ball near the foot of his bed, with his thumb in his mouth and his knees jammed under his chin. And Ryuk really isn't the type to wax poetic about human men, but yeah, he is kinda cute. Ryuk will pay that one.
About half a nanosecond later, Rae notices him.
"You," it growls, and grabs him by the arm. "We need to talk."
"Relax," he says cheerfully. "I've come here to talk, kiddo. I thought you could use some help."
"Like you helped me the last time, by getting L captured?"
"What can I say? It was entertaining," Ryuk says, wondering if he's going to get punched in the face again. That might not be so much fun. Physical violence gets boring pretty quickly.
"You fucking-"
"Besides, no one asked you to go and reveal yourself to a whole bunch of people," he says quickly. "That was your own doing. And pretty stupid, if you ask me. Isn't that gonna make your job harder, if L has support?"
"No, and that's none of your business," Rae tells him curtly. "He would have been killed."
"The police might have stepped in and saved him," Ryuk points out.
He can't say that the queen wouldn't have let L die. He can't say that the queen won't allow someone to be killed by those in her jurisdiction unless that person's lifespan is about to run out anyway.
And he certainly can't point out that L's lifespan is important.
"I doubt it," Rae says. "No-one knew of her plan except those she had employed. And being saved would have still revealed his face to a lot of people."
"Ah," Ryuk says. "Yeah. See, there's your problem."
His younger colleague stares at him belligerently.
"What? What are you talking about?"
Ryuk points to Rae's eyes.
"Have you lost the capacity to read names, yet?"
Rae scrubs at its face.
"There's nothing wrong with me," it says vehemently. "You can tell the king that there's nothing wrong with me."
"Right. Can't make yourself immaterial at will? Slowing down? Lost the ability to fly, kiddo?"
"I can still fly," Rae protests.
Ryuk stares at it, a little gobsmacked.
"You've lost everything else, already?" he asks. "Wow. I. Okay, wow. I would not have called that."
He's pretty glad he didn't place any bets on it, now.
"Called what?" Rae spits. "What's wrong with me?"
"I think it's pretty obvious," he replies. "You like him, don't you?"
Rae freezes for a second.
"What are you talking about?" it hisses.
Ryuk waves his arms in the air amicably.
"Bear in mind that this is all part of the king's test," he says broadly. "He won't let just anyone ascend the throne, you know. You've been pitted against the most difficult human in the world, and not just because L is morally stubborn."
The other Shinigami narrows its eyes at him.
"Explain."
"He's good, Rae. Surely you've seen what he does with other humans. People are drawn to him, he enchants people. Once someone spends too much time around him they can't leave."
"Naomi," Rae says thoughtfully. "Ugh. You are right, I have noticed that. I think it's something he does without realising it."
"His magnetism wasn't particularly well-developed in the first world," Ryuk continues. "But he has slowly become so innately human that it's almost contagious. Rae. He can strip a death god of their power, given enough time. Why do you think I never went near him? I can't stand up to that! And apparently, neither can you. Five years will be too long. He's making you like him. Soon you won't have the strength to get him to use the note at all."
"That's not true," Rae says, sounding a little sick. "I…the king knew I cared for humans when he appointed me. I feel nothing for him, specifically. That cannot be."
"The king can never fall for a human," Ryuk recites, waggling one finger in the air. "And L is the most human of humans."
"But he lets people die. And I don't like him," Rae says emphatically.
"Yeah?" Ryuk enquires. "How long has it been since you've been able to get angry with him, then? When was the last time you had your eyes? Did he promise to help you, or something?"
Rae stares at the ceiling for a long moment, visibly shaking.
Then it laughs.
And laughs.
And laughs.
"So that's his game, is it?" it asks finally, gasping for breath. "And the king thinks I can't handle it? Heh. I'm sure I would have worked it out on my own pretty soon, but you've helped me a lot tonight, Ryuk. Thank you."
"You held some affection for him, then?" Ryuk asks carefully.
"I let my guard down. That was a mistake," Rae says simply, and its eyes are pure, vicious red. "Familiarity breeds contentment, I suppose, and I had other things to focus on. It will not happen again. I haven't forgotten the things he refused to do. The people he wouldn't save. I've just been distracted."
"Yeah, well, you're still not allowed to hurt him," Ryuk says. "And you still need to break him, make him use the note."
"Oh, I'm not concerned," Rae says cheerfully. "After all, this humanity of his is his curse as much as everyone else's. In the end, he'll make me king. He will have no other choice. I won't have to do a thing. And in the meantime, I'll use him to save people. As effectively as I can."
"Yeah, well," Ryuk mutters. "When you get your crown, I want lots of apples. Human apples. Every day. You owe me."
"Oh, don't worry. I'll remember what you've done," Rae says darkly. "And by the way, what is your mistress doing in England? Surely she'd be more comfortable staying in Japan?"
"Oh," Ryuk says, confused. "I dunno. She has plans over here, I guess."
Rae smiles.
"So she is Japanese? Good. That was a wild guess, by the way."
"Oookay," Ryuk says. "I think I'm going to stop talking to you now. I shouldn't really be here at all. The king would kill me."
"Off you go," Rae says brightly. It opens and closes one hand, and grins. "I feel incredible. I can't believe he got to me. Thank you, again."
"You're welcome," Ryuk blurs, and leaves quickly.
Sometimes, he sort of hates himself.
tbc
a/n:
+ I have absolutely no idea why this chapter is so long, considering virtually nothing of significance happens.
+ my new nickname for Ryuk in this fic is 'Mr Helpfully-pointing-things-out'.
+ thank you for reading! I am sorry this chapter took so long.