The alley was dark and the light of the street lamp hardly reached it. The walls were painted bright colors by graffiti-scrawl gang signs. Standing near a dumpster, three men and two women smoked cigarettes, watching the scene with interest. On the other side of the alley, a few more spectators leaned against the wall, staring intently at each other's money-filled fists. In between them, two dozen or so men growled and cheered, waving enthusiastic fists. They weren't there for the graffiti—but rather for the street fight.
The man on the ground had at least three broken ribs and his nose was bleeding. One eye was swelling shut, but was open enough to flinch away from the young woman leering above him with a lead pipe. He could no longer make out her features, but in that moment he would swear that she looked exactly like death with a blood-spattered face, puffing away on a cigarette.
It wasn't the first time she'd been underestimated and she really hoped it wouldn't be the last. Kicking the shit out of guys three times her size was just far too much fun—but if they didn't have that surprised expression on their faces, it just didn't feel the same.
After watching the groaning, bleeding hulk for a few more moments, she straightened up and nodded to the spectators. They took it as a sign to start sneering and exchanging bills. She glanced down at the lead pipe and noted that she'd have to clean it off once she was done surveying the damage.
Sayu Yagami really loved beating the shit out of people. Her parents hadn't been too pleased when she'd decided to make a living of it, but they could go to hell. They also hadn't been pleased about the five piercings in her ears, the blue hair, or the lead pipe. Clearly, they didn't know what was best for her.
Most people didn't bother to ask why Sayu did what she did. They just made bets and supplied her with some of the winnings afterwards. People had stopped asking questions when she started winning; there was something about a five foot two middle-class girl mowing through an entire street gang that just put off the question-asking sort.
However if someone did ask questions, she had already perfected her answer—after much thought and much internal searching and strife.
It was all Light's fault. It was hard being Light's younger, dumber, less good-looking and god-like sister. People kept expecting things of her that she just didn't have, and she was sick and tired of being looked over for mister perfect. Her parents didn't care because she was just a little less special, a little less perfect. It was hard living like that. She wasn't Light and she was never going to be Light. If she had to prove that with a lead pipe and blue hair, so be it; if she had a little fun along the way, that was great too.
Whether it really was Light's fault, she didn't know. She just said it was because it seemed like the easiest and best explanation. It seemed unlikely, but it was a great speech anyway. Also, she noticed that whenever she wanted to pick up a guy who was somewhat normal, he always seemed to be more attracted and interested after the troubled childhood speech.
She just left out the part where her parents were ashamed of her brother as well, and that no one who had met him in the last five years would even bother considering him the perfect man. In fact, anyone who had met him recently would laugh at her if she even tried the speech. The fact that Light was the biggest nutjob in the NPA didn't seem to fit in with the traumatizing childhood.
"I don't understand how you can work for a man like that. If I were you, I'd reconsider my employment. You could work for the NPA—the official director may be an idiot, but unofficially I run the show, and I'd make sure you have a lot more fun."
When L walked into his hotel room in Japan those were the first words he heard from a voice he knew only from a week ago. L knew then that he had severely underestimated the enemy.
Light Yagami was currently drinking tea with Watari, who had not even bothered to wear the trench coat—but instead just looked like an elderly English gentleman. Watari was holding a donut and sipping tea. He appeared to be very disconcerted.
L tried to analyze the situation but only came up with several minor conclusions. One, Light Yagami had managed to find out not only which hotel L was staying in, but also which room. Two, Light Yagami had managed to break and/or persuade his way into the room with Watari inside. Three, he brought donuts and tea, and was wearing a suit in order to look professional. This bit was of note only because all the reports said that Light Yagami usually showed up to business meetings with the mob's blood on his khaki pants. Clearly, he had an ulterior ulterior motive. Four, L was never going to stay in a hotel in Tokyo ever again.
"…William, who is this man?" L decided that it wouldn't hurt to pretend that he was a normal guest and had no idea what the hell was going on.
"William and I are discussing the terms of his employment and by god, I didn't realize that you actually looked like a meth addict. I thought that was just a rumor." Light smiled, put down his tea, and placed a frosted donut on a plate. "Donut?"
Watari looked at L with an awkward twitch and shrugged almost halfheartedly. L saw that it was going to be a long discussion before they managed to throw Light out of their apartment. L took the plate with the donut and tried to remember what smiling felt like.
"Is that so, and what may I call you?" he asked pleasantly, wondering if Watari had called 911—or at least security, yet—and what was taking so long.
"You know who I am. Also, I disconnected the phones, and William here isn't dumb enough to try the cell phone in his pocket, in case you were wondering why I'm here and not in the gutter." Light again gave that charming smile that L was growing to hate.
"Well then, since you appear to know who I am, and I know who you are, let's get down to business. How on earth did you find out where I was and who I was?"
Light set down his tea and brought his hands together. L was disturbed to see that there was what looked like partially washed blood on one hand. "Well, L, it's all about who you know and what you do."
L blinked and looked at Watari. "Is that it?"
"Basically. Of course, I had to do a bit of dirty work here and there—but nothing exceedingly difficult. Mostly it involved hacking into the various hotels' databases in Japan to see which occupant ordered the most room service and was the biggest slob. I followed the donut trail, so to speak."
L looked at his donut and looked back up at Light. He looked at Watari, then back to Light. L took a bite of his donut.
"I should e-mail your supervisor and have you fired," L said after much silence and donut eating.
Light then began to laugh cheerfully. The smile was a bit horrifying. "Oh, believe me, he's already tried."
That, L decided, was not a good sign. The longer that Light was in his hotel, the less he felt allowing it was a good idea. He decided to get to the point.
"What do you really want, Inspector Yagami?"
"I thought you'd never ask," Light said in mock exasperation. "I want to know why on earth you sent me Naomi Misora. You do know my track record with partners, I assume—the likelihood that you are going to get her killed is very high. I thought you should know that before you throw her to the wolves. Also, I felt you should know that the battle has begun and I've already launched the first attack. In five months, no one will use your services without laughing hysterically."
"Really? That's very interesting, Yagami-san."
"Yes, it is. My best work. Well, that's all I had to say for now. I'll drop by some other time. Ta."
Light then put down his tea and nodded to Watari, who nodded back. Light stood up and then made his way quietly out the door, leaving L standing, staring at the seated Watari.
"Watari, remind me later to have that man put on my hit list."
And that was all L had to say about that.
Naomi was not thrilled with the turn of events. She was sitting in an unmarked police car, waiting for Light Yagami to finish drinking his coffee so that they could high-tail it to wherever the hell he was going. He hadn't said anything, Matsuda hadn't said anything—as far as Naomi knew, they hadn't been assigned a case and the NPA just let Light do whatever he wanted. Naomi was beginning to find that her interview answers to Director Matsuda was a self-fulfilling prophecy: she did miss shooting things.
"Are you done yet?" Naomi asked Light irritably out the open window. He was still leaning against the car door with that creepy smile on his face and a cup of coffee that was probably cold by now.
"Most people aren't that eager after seeing the video," Light commented after taking a sip of his coffee. She hoped it tasted like garbage.
"Well, I took the job expecting I would do something other than watch you drink coffee." Naomi looked away and watched the empty street outside of the windshield. She wondered when the last time was that he washed his car; from the look of it, soap hadn't touched the car for at least a month.
"If you insist," Light said, and threw the empty cup over his shoulder into the open dumpster. He clapped his hands together and turned toward the car with a charming smile that would have looked fantastic on anyone but him.
Naomi began to regret ever working with L as soon as Light took his place in the driver's seat. Not because he drove badly, but because he drove too well—like he thought about every single thing on the street. Nobody real drove like that.
Naomi decided to distract herself by finding out what the hell was going on. "So, are we going somewhere?"
"Yes," Light responded, checking his rearview mirror.
"Anywhere specific?"
"Intelligence. I've been prevented from tormenting Mello directly, and as a result there's really nothing left for me to do but solve the whale case. As long as I have free time, I might as well do something productive."
Naomi nodded and said, "Oh, well, being productive is always wonderful, but since I will be working with you, would you mind telling me what the whale case is?" More importantly, did it have anything to do with whales at all? Because she really wasn't fond of whales. There was something about their morbid obesity…
Light turned right down an alley that didn't look friendly in the slightest. Naomi got a dreadful feeling in her stomach, rather like a rock, and started to regret she hadn't just punched Matsuda in the face. She could have said she was done being L's puppet, payment or no payment—why had she not thought of that before now?
"Oh, just some PETA idiot committing homicide because this is Japan and the Japanese don't care about whales or fish. Just another nut-job who happens to have the materials and a knowledge of engineering thorough enough to construct a miniature blood fountains."
"Whales aren't fish," Naomi pointed out as she watched the walls fade from dark grey to fuchsia as more and more graffiti ate the cement.
"I don't care. It shouldn't take too much time—if he's preoccupied enough to make a blood fountain, he must be an idiot. Probably will finish in a couple of days. But we may run into a bit of violence, so be prepared," Light explained as he continued to barrel at full speed down a street with an increasing supply of pot holes and gang signs.
"If this man is a whale-fanatic, why on earth would the drug lords know anything about him?" she asked skeptically as she eyed the people who were eyeing her from their porches. They no doubt had shotguns hidden behind their chairs.
"He's probably a drug addict, but I'm not coming here for the drug lords." Light turned to her and smiled mysteriously before pulling to a stop on the side of the road.
Naomi really hoped that she wasn't here to wait for Light Yagami to have sex in a brothel. She just might have to kill him—and then what would she say to L? Although, considering the last time L had her work a case for him, he might actually want Light's bleeding corpse in some dumpster—in which case she could only make L suffer by keeping Light alive. That could prove too difficult.
"You better not be coming here for the sex," Naomi said as Light unbuckled and made his way out of the car.
For some reason Light burst out into hysterical, breathless laughter, began to lean against his car, and didn't stop for a minute. She timed him. He looked at her and then he started laughing again. She was pretty sure there were tears coming out of his eyes. She was briefly thankful that she never had to deal with L in person.
Naomi decided it was high time she got out of the car, loaded her gun, and got the show on the road.
As soon as she stepped out of the car, they began to walk down a dark alley with absolutely no streetlights. There may or may not have been dismembered bodies lining the walls. Naomi was beginning to feel very glad she had loaded her gun. They stopped at a red door with rusted paint that seemed to be missing a 'do not enter' sign. Light knocked three times.
A booming voice resounded from the inside: "Password?"
Light smiled. "I have a warrant!"
There was a slight pause that lead Naomi to wonder if that was really the password. But the door eventually opened, and Light stepped in. Naomi followed quickly afterward with gun in hand, giving the guy sitting on the bar stool a steely glance. He didn't look armed, which was something good, at least.
"You sure you aren't looking for a heroin dealer?" Naomi asked under her breath, but Light just waved the question off with a stained hand. He stopped walking and looked around the room as if searching for someone in particular.
"Oh shit!" someone yelled from the pool table. Naomi twisted and brought up the gun, ready to shoot, but Light clamped his hand on it.
"Please don't shoot my informants," he said with that crawling, creepy smile. It was starting to give her mental images of maggots crawling over the piles of corpses he probably kept in his parents' basement.
They were looking at a young woman in a dark tank-top and leather pants. What was perhaps her most interesting feature was not the tattoo on her shoulder or the five silver piercings in her ear, but the fact that her hair was dark blue. All of it. Not even stripes. She had dyed her hair indigo and appeared to like it. The entirety of her ensemble, face included, seemed to be scowling at Light in distaste. She didn't look interested in returning to her pool game if it meant she had to stop scowling. Naomi lowered her gun and stepped behind Light, waiting for him to make the first move.
"I'm not your bitch!" she snarled after a lengthy bit of silence. Then she added, "What the hell do you want, anyway?"
"Sayu, can't I just come to see you anymore? We never talk," Light said, walking smarmily forward to the pool table. Her scowl got angrier.
"Who says we ever talked?"
Light nodded somewhat sympathetically and leaned against the pool table. His fingers tapped the green. It was somehow unbelievably creepy. "True, but most people don't admit their relationship issues. How are you? Still street-fighting?" Light kept up his slimy smile. Sayu poked her pool stick at the air aggressively and returned back to her game, attempting ignore him.
"If you have something to say, you better say it—or I will kick the shit out of you." She said something else under her breath, but Naomi didn't catch it.
As far as Naomi could tell, Sayu was Light's former girlfriend and the relationship had been messy. No doubt there had been broken plates and bullet holes—it was a wonder the two of them were even standing. Unless Light was just so amused by her that he let her live only as an excuse to torment her for the rest of her life.
Light was grinning like the Cheshire cat with catnip. He pulled out of his suit-jacket a newspaper. On the front cover was a picture of a harpoon-shishkabobbed whale floating in a bloody pond. Sayu's black (and very not-blue) eyebrows raised.
"Whales?" she asked.
"Don't look at me. Homicide is a delicate business undertaken for many reasons. Apparently, whales are one of them." Light asked, "Do you know anything about him?"
"And if I do?" Sayu said.
"Well, we could do this the easy way or the hard way." Light closed in on the young woman, leering over her as her stick hit the white ball. He was still smiling. Naomi was really beginning to doubt that Light hadn't come for the sex.
"You wouldn't," she said. Light just continued to smile. "You know if you do it to me, I'll do it to you."
Naomi really didn't want to think the missing word was rape, but she wasn't coming up with any other answer.
"I'm prepared for that," Light said calmly. Naomi really was starting to regret thinking about Light's sexuality at all.
"Fine. There's no way in hell I'm going to explain the new tattoo to Dad, even if I do get to watch you explain the Interpol fiasco."
Naomi blinked. All her assumptions were thrown down the drain, and she noticed that she was very confused. She opened her mouth, closed it, thought for a moment, and opened it again. "Who are you?" she asked the woman with the blue hair.
"This is Sayu Yagami, my little sister," Light introduced the woman, who raised and lowered her pool stick with a smile.
"…You're related?"
They shrugged. "I got the good genes," Sayu said after an extended pause, during which Light looked oddly gleeful. She turned back to Light, "I know, surprisingly, a lot, considering the guy is only interested it whales and not in narcotics. He squats in an abandoned apartment a couple streets down—keeps his whale plushies there and everything. Not there all the time, though; you'd have to stake him out, but he'll show up sometime." Sayu sighed and tapped her fingers on the pool table. "You know, if we're going to talk about dirt, you should at least pay me."
"The blackmail wasn't enough?"
"A gentleman would bribe, too."
Naomi wasn't sure how she got involved in this conversation at all. She also wondered if the rest of Light's family was insane, or if it had skipped a generation. And if so, she wondered how nuts his grandparents would be. Light dug some bills out of his pocket and placed them on the table.
"He lives on 124th, brown apartment building, third window up—the one with the broken windows—turn the corner and you're right there. Now shove it!" Sayu pushed her brother away from the table and stuffed the bills into her pocket before turning back to pool.
"We'll be in touch," Light said, waving to his little sister and nodding for Naomi to follow him. He began to whistle a jaunty tune as they made their way to the car; he smiled over at Naomi. Naomi just stared back.
According to the educational video, she was just lucky nothing had exploded yet.
Soichiro woke up sweating in the middle of the night. There had been fire in his dreams, and body parts, and, for some odd reason, cauliflower. His wife was still sleeping soundly, and he sighed. He tried to convince himself it was all a dream, but the thought wouldn't leave his mind. Somehow, he knew that he and his children were going to have a reunion sometime soon, and he knew that it was going to be horrible.