notes/warnings
+ swearing.
+ general bad writing and tenuous plotting skills.
Lies
"Er, I may be missing something here," Ryuk says helpfully, "but wasn't that girl on your side?"
Takada rolls her eyes.
"It was necessary for her to die," she informs him coldly. "Since you are supposedly a god yourself, I thought you would understand the concept of 'necessary sacrifice'."
"Yeah, okay, maybe. But would Light really want you to kill all of these people? I thought he only advocated killing bad people," Ryuk says thoughtfully, stretching across the edge of her expensive desk. "Of course, I guess that doesn't really explain why he tried to kill L."
"He killed L because those who stand in the way of true justice are bad, by definition," she tells him curtly. "Even if they have done nothing else wrong, that is bad enough. As for Kathleen, she didn't report her whereabouts to me. A neighbour said they saw an unfamiliar car in the area near her home a few hours ago. That is very suspicious. Either she is a traitor and deserved death, or L captured her, in which case she would have been glad to die to protect her god."
"How do you know L got her, anyway?" he asks. "Anyone could have taken her. Your message might have been given in vain. And it took you so long to write that little speech out. What a waste."
"Whoever received it will deliver it to him," she says with a smile. "They're all on the same side, these heathens. They are all weak, rallying behind the one strong man they could find. And even he has already been beaten."
"Whatever you say," Ryuk replies. He's actually starting to feel a little uncomfortable about this whole thing. Humans are interesting, and have lots of very useful resources – like, for example, oh, apples – but some of them can really go crazy with power.
Perhaps that should have occurred to him earlier.
Anyway, he shouldn't worry about Takada. She's scripted. There are a limited number of possible outcomes, all sanctioned by the queen. It won't be his responsibility.
And it's not like he'd bend the rules, either. Not for her. Takada is boring. Emma is his only real, true, human friend. She wants to make him powerful, keep him entertained for the rest of eternity.
Heh, maybe he should make a joke to Rae about this. He'll take the mother, and Rae can have the son, and everyone will be happy. Two matching sets of Shinigami and humans, having monstrous amounts of fun.
Oh wait. He's not allowed to tell Rae anything. Can't forget about that.
"Are you really going to kill so many people, if he doesn't comply?" he asks glibly. "It seems like such a waste."
"You are wrong," Takada replies smugly. "Quite wrong. In the first world, we thought that all humans – good and evil – simply became nothing when they died. Now, we know that those who are evil are punished and removed from society forever."
Jas told her? Interesting. He can't keep track of what Jas tells her charges. Whether they know about hell, or are aware of the fact that they're in hell, or even whether they know that they're dead. The smarter they are, the more she needs to lie. She cannot fool an intelligent human, not easily. Takada must not be overly bright, if she's been told the truth.
Heh.
"So what I do – what Kira will do – is simply a purification process. More and more criminals will be killed, a proportion of those will be sent to hell, and eventually we will have a perfect world, full of good people, for all eternity."
She pivots in her chair and regards him with unnerving intensity.
"Is there a god of hell, Ryuk? I'd quite like to meet him. He must be very righteous."
Ryuk grins.
"Not having second thoughts, are you? Worried you've backed the wrong man?"
She laughs humourlessly.
"Light and I are partners," she replies. "Nothing can change that. Perhaps we will liase with this hell-god in the future, and cut out the middle man."
"I'm a middle man?"
"You are useless," she says bluntly. "And unhelpful. Surely, as a god of death, you ought to be assisting me."
"Doesn't work that way, toots, sorry," he says, a little irritably. What is with all these humans trying to critique him? Doesn't being a ten foot tall flying murderous monster earn any respect these days?
"It is irrelevant. I don't need you, anyway. And as for your earlier question, I can assure you that I won't have to kill that many more people. L will not allow it. He will be trying to prove to the world that he is better than Kira. It's what he did before, you know."
"I know."
"But deep down," she continues softly, "he's not better than Kira at all. No-one is, in fact. Far from it. Ordinary people are just too morally weak to stand up for what is right."
Ryuk scratches the back of his neck.
"I get what you're saying, of course," he comments. "It's exactly what Light said. I just. I don't understand. Become a killer to kill the killers?"
She gives him a pitying little smile and turns back to her computer. There are ten other screens in front of her, each showing four different camera feeds from in and around the building.
Talk about paranoid.
"Of course you don't understand," she tells him sympathetically. "You're not really a proper god, are you?"
Ryuk has absolutely no idea how to reply to that.
"So what the fuck do we do now?" Raye demands.
No-one replies. Naomi isn't surprised.
L is leaning against the wall, bent at the knees, head tipped back, hands jammed into his pockets. Mail is sitting cross-legged in the opposite corner, fidgeting with his laptop distractedly, his face still grey around the edges. She and Raye are perched on opposite edges of the office couch, and he looks about as terrified and awed as she feels.
"Hey," Rae says sharply. "He's talking to you, L."
"You're not helping anything," Naomi hisses. "Let him think."
"We could be here for weeks while he fucking thinks," the Shinigami snarls. "People's lives are a little more important than politeness, aren't they?"
"You are right," L murmurs, sounding almost sleepy. "We must act now."
"That's exactly what faux-Kira wants," Mail warns. "The most unexpected thing you could do would be to turn this case over to the police. It'd shit her off, too."
L lifts one corner of his mouth in a sad little smile.
"I'm glad to see you're putting thought into this, M, but that's not an option right now. We need to stop this woman within fifteen days. I assure you that the police cannot meet such a deadline."
"We shouldn't act today," Raye says gruffly. "Anyone who makes any movements around faux-Kira in the near future will be strongly suspected of working for you. I say wait a minimum of forty-eight hours."
"Forty-eight, huh?" Rae muses. "How many deaths is that, L?"
"Shut up!" L says, his voice uncharacteristically harsh. "I need your help, damnit, not your….your spite. If you have a plan, then share it."
"There is only one plan," Rae says. "You know that as well as I do. Now that you're down Roper, one of your team has to go to faux-Kira."
"Nonsense," Raye replies. "It would be better to send a less valuable person. A willing and sufficiently competent police officer. One, they're less likely to be recognised, and two, Kira will not gain as much by killing them."
A wave of nausea washes over Naomi, but this time she's confident it has nothing to do with her illness.
"I can't believe you just said that," she snaps. "That's so… classist."
"It's honest, honey," he counters, holding up his hands. "It's how faux-Kira will be looking at it, so we've got to look at it that way, too. Count our resources for what they really are."
"That's people's lives you're talking about!" she tells him, aghast. "It's not…people will die, certainly, but you cannot treat them as nothing more than figures on a page."
"A death is a death," L whispers. "But that point is moot, because we need our field operative to survive. Being killed by faux-Kira would render the whole mission pointless. Therefore, we ought to send our very best trained to maximise our chances of success."
"Once we do that, we are committed to destroying this woman, or we will risk having that person killed," Mail points out. "This is a really fuckin' shitty plan."
Rae shrugs.
"You've got to make sacrifices in order to win," it says blandly.
"Quite.," L agrees. "M, you will be needed for observation and monitoring, and you presently lack competent social skills, so you are not an option. Which leaves the three of us."
Naomi thinks he probably brought that up a little too quickly, but Mail doesn't have the wherewithal to be suspicious. He will be a significant difficulty in this case. Along with revealing a team member to Kira, likely endless mobile monitoring of maybe-Takada's base, and attempting to record a confession without arousing suspicion, L also has to conceal her identity from Mail.
"That's it, then," L says. "It's decided. N, you will be in charge in my absence, whether temporary or not."
Naomi feels his words like a slap to the face, and she jumps to her feet, ignoring the dizziness that threatens to send her tumbling back down again.
"What?"
"The fuck?" Raye adds, unhelpfully.
"No," the Shinigami says, with finality.
"No," Mail agrees. "Negative. We need you alive."
"We need all of these people alive," L says, agitation seeping into his usually-calm voice. "We agreed we needed to send the best, I see no room for argument."
"We do," Naomi sputters. "Honestly, sacrificing yourself? Do you want a repeat of the original case?"
"I am the best equipped to survive."
"Absolutely not," Raye says firmly. "That would be suicide. Besides, is there anything in your real name that's likely to tip her off as to who you are? Just starting with an 'L' is probably going to draw undue attention."
"This is all due to my failure to catch Light initially," L says matter-of-factly.
"Okay, now you're being stup-"
"This is not negotiable," L repeats, holding up one arm as if to block Naomi from coming any closer.
Damn you, she thinks viciously. Of course, with the way you're feeling right now, you want to make yourself suffer as much as possible. Can't you see you're the one who keeps this group together? Don't you remember we all came here because of you?
"His mind is fucking made up," Raye whispers to her. "Honey, what do we do?"
"I can hear you, you know," L says acidly.
"Don't worry about it," Rae says languidly. "I can keep him here by force if he's really serious."
"No! Do you honestly not understand?" L pleads. "I must do this."
"Why? One look at your face and she's going to know you own a death note. Idiot!"
L touches his mouth.
"She will not expect L to have a note," he says. "That could work in my favour."
Rae shrugs.
"Look, I really don't care what you do, as long as you're stopping this woman. It'll probably work in my favour, since you'll be expected to use the note to prove your loyalty to Kira."
The Shinigami's eyes are dull again, the colour of clotted blood. Naomi thinks the change has something to do with L.
Then again, everything revolves around L, sooner or later.
L's head flops forward limply, and he stares at the carpet.
"I will never forgive myself if anything happens to any of you," he says, his voice quiet and clear.
"It should be me," Naomi offers, immediately seizing the opportunity. "I have the capacity to get close to her, L, and I know how to defend myself."
"Honey," Raye says warningly. "I don't think you've thought about this. I should go. If she's after Light, she's going to be threatened by another woman."
"Also negative," Mail pipes up. "Roper said she was threatened by men. N is the better option."
"So that's decided, then," Naomi says cheerily.
"No," Raye growls, sounding completely horrified. "Geeze. No. Do you have any idea how dangerous this is going to be, Naomi?"
"I survived the original Kira longer than you did. That must count for something," she returns. She's not backing down on this one, damnit. She's confident she can pull this off.
"Naomi gets my vote," Rae says, jabbing L under the ribs. "Hey. Pay attention. We're waiting on your decision, your highness. Take your time. People are only dying as we speak."
"Don't make light of this," L says weakly, speaking only to the Shinigami, eye still trained to the floor.
"Naomi, goddamned listen to me!" Raye barks.
"Why?" she asks. "This isn't your decision. L has the final say."
Raye's hands are shaking, and he's red in the face. He's scared. And angry. But if he thinks he's going to stand in the way of her doing her job, then. Then maybe he'd be better off with someone else.
There, she actually thought it. Actually put the sentiment into words. It feels strangely liberating, and unyieldingly melancholy.
"L," he instructs shakily. "Tell her she's not going."
L raises his head slowly, his eye lingering on Naomi for a long second.
"She is the best option," he says, finally. "I am sorry."
Raye grabs him by the front of his shirt and hauls him down until they're nose-to-nose.
"She's a woman," he roars, as if that's some sort of defining attribute. And, Naomi realises with a shock, it is. To him. Because that's who he is. She has always known that.
"She is a detective," L corrects, and sometimes Naomi really does think she married the wrong man.
"And she's ill!" Raye finishes, and that. That brings the rush of rage that simple misogyny couldn't rouse.
Raye figured it out all by himself, a few days ago. He's no fool, after all. He lives with her. He sees her every day. There are some things that she simply cannot hide, not indefinitely. So they'd discussed it. She would see a doctor once she had a better handle on her symptoms, and he wouldn't tell anyone else.
Ha!
You swore to me. You promised.
Or does that not matter, because I'm a woman?
Well then.
"I am not," she replies concisely.
Because she knows, she knows, that no-one will take Raye's word over hers.
Hell, they really are all lying to each other, aren't they? Illnesses and criminals and Shinigami. They must be the most screwed-up group of law-enforcers in history.
"You are!" he insists, gesticulating wildly. "You know you are! There are days when you can barely get out of bed!"
"You have been very subdued lately," L notes. "N? Is there something wrong?"
Naomi looks him right in the eye.
"I'm a little unnerved at the thought of taking on another Kira," she says confidently. "I presumed everyone else here felt the same. If you are all completely unaffected, then I will gladly concede this role to someone else."
"Fuck you," Raye whispers, under his breath.
"I think we can safely say that we are all significantly unbalanced by this case," L says cautiously. "I still want you to think this over, N."
"No need. I'm sure."
She hears her husband stamp to the door, and she hears the loud slam, but she does not move her eyes from L's face.
This is where she belongs.
L looks worried, achingly, unendingly old. He looks frustrated, and tired, and like he's worried that one day he's going to turn the wrong corner and Light will be there.
Naomi doesn't know what to say to him.
"She's going to have to kill someone, remember," Rae points out gleefully.
L swats at it.
"One thing at a time," he says primly, finally breaking away from Naomi's gaze. "I agree that we should wait forty-eight hours, and use that time to prepare ourselves as well as possible. M, get me all the notes you made from Roper's information. N, I wish to think about this a little longer before I finalise the exact details. Please have the night for yourself. I will need to meet with you early in the morning. I will contact Watari and select the most appropriate audio taps. Rae, you would do well to conduct more surveillance on faux-Kira, for now. I realise that it's unlikely that we'll find any more information, but we want to be as sure of her routine as possible."
He goes on, clarifying things, babbling, slipping into full-blown super-detective organisational mode. Naomi tries to concentrate on the sound of his voice, and not on the way the ground doesn't seem steady under her feet, or the way the world is slowly tilting up at a forty-five degree angle.
She'll be fine.
She can handle this.
Naomi Misora. Naomi Penber.
Honestly, that woman is wasted on Raye. Wasted on L. Wasted, stuck away in this place, taking orders from a coward. She's brilliant, and she's good. She could have been so much more than this. She could be so much more than this.
In hindsight, maybe. Maybe things should have been done a little differently.
No, that isn't possible. And it doesn't matter, anyway. L has his hooks in her now. She's got that look in her eyes, cow-like and possessed. She's drawn to him, orbiting him, unable to break away. She'll ruin her useless marriage, her possible career, her life.
Because that's what he does to people. Without even realising. The ability to draw love, to demand love.
Only a weak man would consider that to be power. L has nothing else. Nothing but his smile, and his heart.
Heart.
And oh, that heart is a double-edged sword, so easily used against him. But he doesn't know that yet. He's almost completely broken, and he still hasn't worked it out.
He'll have to use the note.
He'll have to.
Still, it's sad, to see someone Naomi buckle under him.
Your life could have been so much better without him.
You could have been…
Maybe I wouldn't…
Regrets? Never.
I'll do it again. And you'll know all about it. I promise.
"Don't think I don't know that you're sending me away so that you don't have to deal with me pointing out your huge freaking moral flaws," Rae says darkly. "I know what you are, Lawliet."
And he would never normally say something like this, but he's exhausted, and he's terrified for Naomi, and his mind is running overtime, and he is heartily sick of red-eyed Rae.
"Yes. For a while back there, I was your friend."
Rae's snort is a little too hard, a little too derisive. Almost imperceptibly so.
Maybe L's imagining it.
"Is that what you think, Miss Marple?"
He might have also imagined the brief, faint change in eye colour back there, back when it was threatening to restrain him.
Best to be sure.
"Your restoration," he says softly. "Is it one hundred percent?"
"What? Yes, of course it is. I told you I was fine."
L reaches for the nearest rib and his hand goes straight through.
"Good," he says, with an empty sort of smile. "Good. One less thing to worry about."
"I can't believe you did that," Raye says, as soon as they're alone. "You lied. You outright lied!"
Naomi twists her hair up into a bun, mostly as an excuse not to look him in the eye.
"I can't believe you told him," she returns hotly. "You're my husband. You're supposed to keep my secrets. Besides, I'm not very ill."
"You're my wife! You're supposed to be with me and not running off getting yourself killed."
"Don't be ridiculous. L will be extra careful, now that someone other than him is at risk. This is as safe as half the other jobs we've taken."
"And what if this woman tries to physically overpower you?"
"Why should she do that? I'll be an avid Kira supporter," Naomi says primly, pressing one hand over her heart. "And I'm disappointed that you still can't see that I'm good at my job. I'm not about to just get carelessly killed."
"That's not the point. I'm supposed to protect you!"
"Because you're the big strong man, and I'm a woman?" she asks coolly. "Really. I expected better from you, but now I'm not sure why."
"You're just another one of his puppets," Rae yells, infuriated. "You've just become another wannabe L. Can't you see there's more to this world than your job?"
"You mean like settling down and having children and being the perfect little wife?" she asks. "Sorry, babe, but you married the wrong woman, if that's what you want."
Raye scrubs at his face.
"You don't fucking get it, do you? You can't do this forever. You can't be with him forever!"
With him?
Oh.
"This isn't about L," Naomi says confidently. "This is about me. And right now, it's about bringing a murderous psychopath to justice!"
"Justice," he snarls. "You all love that word, don't you? All you goddamned geniuses. Everyone's out for justice. And the poor, ordinary schmucks like me? I guess we're the ones you're bringing justice upon, right?"
Naomi's irritation escalates into blind, pure fury.
How dare you!
"You're the only one who doesn't consider yourself to be part of this group, you know!" she says slowly. She's not like Rae. She can control her rage, and use it to her advantage. If she could do the same thing with nausea, she'd be undefeatable by now.
"He doesn't!"
The same fucking notes again. Raye is completely, absolutely insufferable. She cannot make him understand. The things he says, the way he belittles her so easily, the things he wants from her.
"And you keep implying that I'm in love with him," she says cruelly. "I'm not the one who can't focus on any other subject."
"This is about us!" Raye howls, and thank god for that. They'll be arguing all night if they can't even start on the same fucking page.
"Yes," she agrees coldly. "It is. Please stop blaming other people for our problems."
"Fine!"
He plucks a vase from her dressing table and hurls it at the floor. He's always struggled to express himself. She knows that. She knows him. And she knows how much he's worrying. And she knows he's picturing her as a frail, weak little woman, sent into the line of fire by an uncaring boss.
She feels like kicking someone in the teeth. Where is that damned Shinigami when she needs it?
"I can do it," she announces. "I will beat this woman, and the world will be a safer place, and we will win –"
"Always about the fucking winning," he snaps.
"But you don't believe me, do you?" she finishes, with a big, fake smile. "You know, sometimes I worry that I married the only man in the world who doesn't value me as a detective."
Raye gasps, like he's been struck.
"You can't…you're twisting my words!" he protests angrily.
"Really? So that 'woman' comment back then, that was just a slip of the tongue?"
"I know you!" he rages. "I know what you can do. I've seen it. I've seen it over and over and over and over again. And I'm sick of it! I'm sick of always being worried about you, every second of every day."
"Then stop worrying," she says lightly.
"Fuck off," he growls. "You all do it. All three of you. And I fucking hate to watch it. Just because you can do something well doesn't mean you're obligated to do it every day until it kills you, you know!"
Naomi stops, mid glare. Hesitates.
…do it every day until it kills you.
That's…that's how she feels about L. Worried and exhausted and terrified that someday he'll suffer terribly because he doesn't know when to stop.
Is that what she is to Raye? Is she his L?
"I just want to know," her husband continues, voice low and defeated. "I just want to know if this is ever going to stop, Naomi. I followed you here. Aren't we ever…aren't we ever going to let ourselves be safe? Aren't we ever going to be able to live without fear, and worry about things like groceries and bills and getting to work on time? Aren't we ever going to get our reward?"
Naomi clutches at her hair, dysphoric and incredibly frustrated.
Of course they are! Of course. That was the deal, the unspoken promise. They would work here, with L, for a while. And then, eventually, they would go…somewhere else. She'd just never dwelled on that part. She always figured that day would be far away.
And L deserves his fucking reward, too. Someone has to make sure that he gets it. And if I'm not here, who will look after him?
"Is that what you want?" she asks bluntly. "Do you want to stop, right now?"
"We could, you know," he says, a tiny, pathetic smile forming on his lips. "We aren't contractually obliged to stay. We could find some place, take easier cases-"
"Save fewer people."
Raye grabs her hand, without violence or presumption, and his skin is warm and soft under her own.
"Don't you want a family?" he asks.
"By that," she translates, "you mean 'don't I want children'. Otherwise that argument would make no sense. My husband is here. My brothers are here."
She doesn't mean to say that last part, and the fact that it comes out without any real thought or preparation frightens her.
But that is what they are, are they not? L and Mail. Younger brothers, barely out of their teens, firmly wedged into her heart.
Raye huffs out a little laugh.
"Brothers, huh? Geeze. I guess I really do worry for nothing."
"I would do anything for him," she warns. "You do not worry for nothing."
"Would you do anything for me?" Raye asks, and he sounds so young, too. All of them. They're just.
They're just children, fighting some goddamned never-ending war. Like something from a comic book, except that two-dimensional heroes never lose eyes or get chronically ill.
"Yes," she replies, without missing a beat. She knows. She knows where this is going. He will ask her, now.
But there's something he hasn't thought of.
"Then, leave with me," he says simply. "Pack up and leave. We'll find you a doctor. We'll buy a house easily, with our savings. Maybe two. We'll freelance for a while, maybe forever. If you really are opposed to kids, we'll have cats. Or dogs. Or adopt, if you want. I don't care. I just want you to be safe."
"I want everyone to be safe," she says sadly. "I wish I could make the same request of everyone else here."
"It'd be a crowded house, then," Raye points out, with a momentary grin. He's watching her like she's the most important thing in the universe.
Her head aches, and she hates him for asking this of her. But that's okay. Raye's a detective too, and she's not out of aces yet.
"If we leave now," she says calmly, "L will be forced to tackle this case all on his own."
"I know," Raye murmurs, flopping onto the bed and tugging her down next to him. "And I'm not happy about that, either. But he could stop, you know."
"He can't. He is obligated to protect the world from anyone who uses the name 'Kira'. No matter how many times it kills him. No matter what he loses."
"We can't make his decisions for him," Raye tells her. "We can only make our own."
"And if Takada kills L, we can accept partial responsibility for that, right?" she says gently.
"Don't wish that on him," Raye says disgustedly. "He'll be fine, Naomi."
"Then, I will leave with you," she says abruptly, rising to her feet. "It is decided. There is just one more thing that I need you to know."
"I'm listening," Raye says, with childlike enthusiasm.
"L is in the middle of fighting one of Light's allies," Naomi pronounces. "Even if he is not killed, he is unlikely to succeed if he is working alone. And if he does not succeed, then this woman will restore Light."
"That won't happen," Raye says, but his voice cracks, and he looks distinctly pale.
"If we leave, right now, today," Naomi says, pointing at the floor for emphasis. "If we do not see this case through, then Light will win, Raye."
Raye hooks one finger into his collar, turning as green as she feels, unable to speak. Naomi presses a hand over her mouth, partly out of nausea, partly to hide her smile.
"But I suppose you've already thought about that," she says airily, and goes to retrieve the suitcase from the laundry cupboard.
Raye likes to claim he doesn't have nightmares. He likes to pretend to be a strong, brusque specimen of manhood.
And he's good. Oh sure, not compared to the others, but compared to an average police officer, an average agent, he's extremely talented. He'll drive through brushfire, he'll crawl through booby-trapped buildings, he'll approach renowned murderers and torturers, he'll take on ten men with a single gun and no spare ammunition. And he'll do all of these things without batting an eyelid.
Nothing affects him. Nothing bothers him.
But he cannot – he cannot – set foot in a train. He can't even enter a train station. Because he can't handle seeing the doors slide shut. He can't. Never again.
Never again.
You will not win!
tbc
a/n:
+ so, once more I'm not certain the next chapter will be done in a week. I think I might just make this a semi-permanent warning, chapters will be up as soon as feasible, but may not be weekly.
+ thank you.