A/N: So the first few chapters were introductions of sorts. The next few chapters will be in Light's P.O.V. and then it will revert back to third (for a very good reason).
Light's still very OOC, but it's all intentional. But, read, review and enjoy.
As the coffin sunk into the ground, I scanned the crowd again. The hope that Lawliet would appear only tormented me farther. He was gone and, knowing Lawliet, if he didn't want to be found, he would remain lost. But venturing out into the world with an empty heart and fragmented judgment was troublesome. How would he take care of himself? He always seemed to be independent and in control, but the outside world was nothing like their secluded, sheltered town. And after I'd seen Lawliet's reaction, I knew he had cracked.
I should never have left him. I didn't need to get my father immediately; I should have taken care of Lawliet first. But, I abandoned my best friend when he needed me most. And, he ran. I understood the burning desire to run, get away from this godforsaken town, but shit, he was sixteen years old and had never even dipped. We had so many promises to fulfill, so many dreams to aspire to. They crashed and burned, though. All I wanted was to get the Hell out of this town.
"Please bow your heads and join me in prayer," Father Kitamura's deep voice bellowed across the graveyard. As everyone closed their eyes and solemly hung their heads, I examined their faces intently. Their shallow, disgusting faces. They only pretended to care about Lawliet's father. Their false grief for their dead 'friend' was the exact reason this whole place was Hell. In their life, they only look out for themselves; they fear death and cower in it's trying prescence. They should embrace it, keep it close to their hearts. And if God does exist, they should be fucking happy to die if they're the good Christian's they claim to be.
"Do you believe in God's existence?"
His voice echoed through my memory. I felt like a goddamn fool crying over my best friends disappearance. It wasn't manly to cry according to the townsfolk, but those fuckers didn't know anything about being manly. Hell, they lived in a shit town their whole lives and only really argued amongst themselves. My dad told me how they used to hide whenever bandits would pass through the town. Hypocrites. Liars.
I shoved a piece of dip into my mouth and spit. My mother's disapproving stare caught my eye. Crap, her eyes were open too.
"Spit that out and bow your head," she whispered. She was never rough, even when she was angry at me. Most of the time, she would just coo, telling me how smart I was. I heard it all the fucking time. How the Hell would I be smart if I was trapped in a town full of idiots all my life?
"Sorry, ma," I spat the dip out onto the dirt.
After the funeral, I practically ran to my families wagon. I couldn't stand looking at these people anymore. But, someone grabbed my shoulder and spun me around. Before I could argue, the beady eyes of Father Kitamura shut me up.
"Light, I saw you disrespectin' the Lord's prayer. Every person in the village had their heads bowed. Do you think that you're better than God? Or are you just one of those ruffians who don't believe in God?"
"Do you believe in God's existence?"
I wished I could've answered the same way I'd answered Lawli. But, I would've winded up getting licked and I wasn't in the mood to have sore cheeks.
"I'm sorry," was all I said.
Apparently it wasn't enough. In fact, the apology just seemed to frustrate Father even more. He yanked my ear and dragged me to my parents, demanding they teach me how to be proper. My father apologized over and over, saying that I was just upset that Lawliet had run off and it wouldn't happen again.
"I'm right here," I snarled, strangely infuriated that my father mentioned Lawli's name. "You don't have to talk like I don't understand you. I can speak for myself."
Father Kitamura turned red, then suddenly calmed down. "Yes, well, have a wonderful day," he said as he left the cemetery.
We arrived at the house and I sat on the edge my bed, playing with my pocket knife. Hours, days, months, years passed by. Three years, two month and three days, actually. I was sixteen years old, the age Lawliet left when he left. I rarely thought about him as the years passed-by force. It was nearly impossible to stop wondering where he was. Maybe he was on that adventure we'd dreamed of for all those years, but I'd find myself envious of that idea. That couldn't be it, though; he would've come to get me. Maybe he was just dead.
After three years, my stomach still churned when I thought about a dead Lawli. His eyes and cheeks coated in blood. I stared at the floor. His father's murderer remained unknown and I had stopped looking for clues-even if they had once existed, they vanished after all the chaos. The first murder in 13 years had really stirred up the town. Lawliet's disappearance was barely noted; everyone was too nervous for their own lives.
Cowards.
"Light, come here," my father called gruffly.
I swung my legs over the bed and shuffled to him. My father was the only person who diligently worked 'round the clock to find both Lawliet and Lawliet's father's killer, besides me. Maybe it was because he was the sheriff, but at least he helped. His aid added significance into Lawliet's life, even if it was subtle.
"Yeah?"
"I've been called in a town a bit north called Saisho to investigate a bank robbery, on account of that A. bandit I caught. Remember I told you that story?"
"Yes." Countless times.
"Well, they want me to come up. Apparently there's been a bunch of robberies and according to the pattern, the next place they'll hit is here. I gotta protect our town, and I want you to come with me. You up for it?"
Investigate a bank robbery? Not only did the idea of detective work captivate me, but it gave me an excuse to leave this town. If I had left on my own, I doubted I would be allowed back in and it would break my ma's heart. Now, I was allowed to escape, though, and maybe my father would see I was bigger than this town and let me explore. Maybe even find Lawli.
A large grin spread across my face. An unfamiliar tingle bubbled in my stomach. "Yessir.
My father and I, along with Deputy Mogi, packed up the wagon and we headed North. My father and Mogi rode on the wagon and I followed besides them on a white stallion.
After sixteen years, I finally rode across the blazing desert, clutching the horse's reigns. My hat clung to my head as the sandy wind whipped against my skin. We rode long and far towards the horizon, with nothing ahead or behind us. The risk of a robbery or hijacking was high, but my revolver bounced along my side, reminding me of the protection it offered. I was free from judgment and surpassed my childhood boundaries. I was ready for whatever came next.
The town of Saisho was nothing like my hometown. The wooden buildings creaked as wind whistled through them. The stallion rocked as we walked through the dusty streets. The townfollk wore huge hats and scraggly beards. A few caught my glance, their shifty eyes glaring. They obviously didn't like strangers, or clean ones, at least.
My father pulled up to the best looking building of the bunch we'd seen, which wasn't saying much. It read "JAIL" across the top in painted, white letters, which had begun to fade. The stallion halted at the horse post and I hopped off, tying his reign to the stand.
"A'ight, son, how you feelin'?" my father laughed.
"Good," I chuckled. It was an understatement. For the first time in three years, I was alive. Lawliet's absence was no longer obvious. The gaping hole that consumed me was bubbling, foaming, leaking from satisfaction. I could practically see Lawliet's reaction.
"We made it, Lawli," I would laugh.
"I suppose so." He would shrug nonchalantly, but a small smile would dance across his lips.
Inside the jailhouse, we met Sheriff Aizawa and his Deputy Ide. Aizawa was unusually strong willed, while Ide just nodded along, intently focused on every word from the Sheriff's mouth. Aizawa and my father became instant friends. Their ideas of justice were quite similar, although Aizawa's town was overrun with drunks and criminals. He said when the bank's wall exploded, it wasn't just one group of bandits who walked in; the entire town piled in to grab some money.
"I jailed most of them over night, but they ain't who I'm worried about. I just took the money back and fined 'em. Of course, they won't pay their fines anyway. But, I wanna catch the guys who blew the hole in the first place."
Aizawa and my father mulled over all the clues, talking about gangs that had been caught around the area. I got bored of their babble and stepped outside. I wanted to check out this giant hole myself. I figured there was no harm. I wandered around the street, searching for the bank. A large man suddenly planted his gigantic, meaty hand on my shoulder. Shocked by the move, I didn't know whether to push him off or act indifferently.
"We donn like strangers in here parts," he spat as he talked, his fat face jiggled. His black mustache was greasy, matching his nearly bald hair.
I was tempted to comment on his sentence, but my better judgment told me he wouldn't understand the constructive criticism. Instead, I took a deep breath and calmly answered, "Just passin' through."
Apparently, showing no fear worked.
The man started to howl, slapping my back a bit too hard. "Im jerst kiddin'," he cackled, wrapping a dirty arm around my shoulder. He stank of tobacco, whiskey and sweat; I had the feeling most people would. "Lemme show yer 'round."
His friendliness intrigued me. I followed him cautiously, wondering if it was all some sort of ploy to rob me. It didn't matter much, because I had barely any money on my person. My father had the rest. He walked through the swinging doors of a saloon and I shortly followed.
It was my first time in an actual saloon, full of rough riders and drunkards lunging at each other form across the table. It was the epitome of all the stories I'd ever heard. Girls in lace dresses danced around, catching men's eyes and bringing their bodies too close. I couldn't tell if they were whores or just teases. The men who ogled them swayed back and fourth to the upbeat music from the piano. Smoke filled the air, making my eyes water. Men sat around tables, cigars perched on their lips, playing poker or arguing incoherently.
The sight of these dirty drunkards intimidated me, but I swallowed my fears and followed the anonymous man to the bar. I forced myself not to make eye contact, since half the men looked like they were ready to pummel someone. I knew I wasn't strong; not yet, at least. Even if someone did lunge at me, I would be able to avert their attack quickly. They all had passionate expressions, which made it quite easy to predict the type of people they were. Even those who sat alone, staring at the wall, made it obvious whether or not I should go up to them. I decided I would socialize after I had a drink with the strangely kind man.
"You, boy, o'er here," he called from the bar. The bartender was pouring a shot for the man and another shot for, I assumed, me.
The stool was covered in a faded, tattered velvet. The tattered red made me suddenly sick to my stomach and I suddenly wondered if Lawliet was still a virgin.
"Whats yer name?" the man asked as he downed the shot of whiskey.
"Light," I answered, unsure how to ask him his.
"A'ight, Liiiight," he howled, his body heaved. I just smiled and threw my drink back. It tasted disgusting. "What's a fella like yew doin' here anyways?"
"I'm here with my father." I suddenly became very conscious of my soft accent and educated vocabulary.
"Just passin' through? Yew came to the wrong place," he laughed again. His meaty hands wrapped on the oak bar in front of him. The bar keep turned and he held up his two fingers.
"I don't have much money on me," I warned him. "So I think this'll be my last, mister-er."
"Kyosuke Higuchi," he grinned at me, his dull eyes slanated. His yellow teeth were covered with black spots. "And yew dunneed to worry, I'll buy you drinks. In fact-" He stood up, turning to the crowd in the saloon, "Next rounds on me!"
The place erupted in roars and hoots, cheering as he sat back down with the nasty smile plastered on his face. "Ya see, I jerst hit me the jackpot. I helped out Beyon' up north and he paid me three hun'ded big uns."
"Who?" I tilted my head curiously.
"Why, you don't know who Beyon' Burtday is? Boy, where do you come from?" He laughed again. My ears perked up. It was worth it to follow this lunatic after all. He might have smelt bad and talked funny, but I had an odd inkling that this Beyond Birthday was a crucial culprit in either the Bank investigation, or just a person whose name I should know.
"Who is he?" I asked.
"Beyon' Burtday," the man cackled. "Lord, where do I start?"