Chapter 4
"'It worked'?!", but the receiver went silent.
Light lowered his phone and stared at it, hoping his action would somehow give him a response. Light had dismissed the notebook as a joke because there was no word from Taro for over a month. But this call changed his perspective.
Redial: nothing; just three rings then silence. Light was stunned; what did this mean? Who had Taro killed? How did they die? How can paper cause… death? Isn't God the only one who can do that? Who is God; is "He" a human with a Death Note? Gods of death - shinigami: does that mean they exist? What else does that the Death Note mention? How much of it is true?
What was going to happen now?
The questions sent a pulse through Light's body. Implored to find answers, the questions tugged at Light's chest, pulling him off his bed and on his feet in one swift move. He needed to see Taro – immediately.
He grabbed his satchel as he open the door to his room, shutting it close with no sound produced. As he swiftly made his way to the stair landing, Light's body prepared to hurry down the stairs, but his foot hung suspended above the second step, his hand gripped the railing. Light realised something.
Where was he going? This never seemed strange before, but Light didn't know where Taro lived. In fact, he knew little about Taro's lifestyle or family – did he even have any? There was nowhere to go; his questions must learn to be patient
Shoulders hanging in defeat, Light sighed and turned on the ball of his foot, reopened his door, placed his satchel back on his cupboard door and threw himself on bed, looked up to his ceiling and sighed.
Light was faced with two whole months left of his school holiday to occupy with activities. Usually he would join his father in crime investigations, but there was no point; criminals had become boring and stupid – all their plans were easily investigated and solved. He was provided no challenge and faced the reality of nothingness.
Boredom; how Light had become bored of being bored – he vegged all day for the first month after Taro's two-word call, unable to do anything but lie on his bed and stare upwards. Occasionally he would change it up and throw a tennis ball towards the ceiling; the repetitive motion providing some stimulation to his numbed brain, but this could only entertain him for so long.
"Light!" the daily call to dinner. Still demotivated, Light creaked his back up slowly, pausing as he sat on the edge of his bed, head in palms, elbows on knees. His hair tickled his ears as it followed gravity, falling by his temples. The late autumn sun gave his skin some much needed warmth as the days became cooler.
Sayu opened Light's door, "Come, it's time for dinner."
"Alright, I'm on my way."
She left the door open as she skipped down the stairs. A few moments later, Light sauntered down, taking his seat at the table. He noted the vacant chair across his.
"Where's Dad?"
"Working on an investigation dear," his mother responded, placing down the casserole dish in the centre of the table.
This peaked Light's interest. Father never stayed at work this late, unless it was a difficult case to crack. After a numbing month, this was the cure he'd been waiting for. His father knew about Light's interest in police work, and being the chief officer, he often allowed for Light to weigh in on cases, sharpening is already brilliant deductive skills.
At almost midnight, Light (still wide awake in a sleeping position in bed) heard the front door click close. Chief Yagami placed his briefcase down, pulled off his jacket and hung it in the coat closet.
The light had been left on for him, with his dinner covered and a note attached: place me in the microwave. Through his fatigue, Soichiro was able to find enjoyment in such simple pleasures of his wife; the note was a nice touch.
Light was leaning against the kitchen door frame as the microwave rotated away. His father hadn't noticed his presence; watching the TV dinner spin as he yawned and rubbed his eyes beneath his glasses. There was still work to be analysed and Soichiro had to overcome his tiredness. Where was his computer? Soichiro began to crane his neck, scanning to see where he had left it.
"Long day at the office?" Light whispered, "or should I rather say 'night'," he smiled.
Soichiro jumped a little at the mystery voice. His face loosened as he saw his son. "Oh Light, it's you," he said relieved.
"Looking for this?" Light held the police chief's brief case out.
"Ah, thank you," Soichiro responded, taking out his computer. The start-up jingle rang softly.
"Hard case?" Light sat on a stool next to his father who began consuming his food whilst navigating through his digital files.
Soichiro sighed heavily, "Yes, quite an involved case. I haven't seen anything like this, I'm not even sure if it's police work. None of us at the station are too sure; some things police academy can't teach you…"
"Well, maybe I can take a look at it…"
"No Light," he faced the teenager, "This case is potentially very dangerous, I have to be cautious. Sorry Light, not this time," and returned to his screen.
"I understand," Light lied. He feigned a yawn, and excused himself back to bed. Instead, he went to his computer. Through the household network, Light had easy access to all of Chief Yagami's files, unbeknownst to his father.
As he browsed through the newest case folder named "Minori" – the truth - he found it an odd name for police investigations which were named after the victim.
As he continued reading, the folder name began to make sense. The case comprised of a myriad of haiku poems, all signed off by "Minori". All these poems were some sort of suicide note - or notice of death - written by the victims a few moments before their passing (according to the witnesses).
The poem, written by over 25 "victims" – Light wasn't sure what to refer to them as – was the same each time without fail:
My parting message to humanity
I, the parasite,
leech off your humanity -
rid myself; be free.
~Minori
As Light read more, the details became more weirdly coincidental: all victims lived in the same high-rise apartment building in the city. Bode building, commissioned by a well-known business entrepreneur, spanning multiple industries. A very popular figure in Japan, but little is known about him. We have never seen his face, and only know him by his mysterious name: Mr B. Conspiracy theories are flung in party conversation, often suggesting that the man doesn't exist, rather a made-up figure by some exploitive corporation trying to make an appealing simple character who made it "to the top" through honest ways.
Could Light even call the residents "victims"? The details of death described cardiac arrest as the cause of death. In some sense they were "victims" of nature; heart attacks are a natural occurance and unsuspecting event, the systematic & high frequency of them in this particular residential building could not be ignored.
But how could someone occustrate mass murder through heart attacks? That's impossible!
Light went a pale green.
"If the death is unspecified, the victim will simply die of a heart attack." Taro's voice rang clearly in his racing thoughts; reviving the memory of that inconspicious late-November winter day.
He gasped: the Death Note