No one has even attempted my riddle yet. Should I give a hint?
Ellie Lawliet's P.O.V.
Yori walked toward the door. He'd told us beforehand that he'd only be staying while we made the arrangement with Ryuk, but he hadn't had anything to eat all day so he was eager to get some lunch. "That was intense. Glad it worked out."
"Yes, this operation was hazardous," L said, "If Ryuk had rejected our offer and gone to tell Kira, we'd be in danger of discovery. We also would never again have the opportunity to approach Kira without incredible risk. It is fortunate this went so well."
Yori turned the handle and pulled on the door. He jumped back in surprise as someone suddenly fell to his feet. L and I looked down and saw none other than Weston, sprawled on the ground like a bottle of spilt glitter. He must've been eavesdropping.
Yori glared at him, "What the hell do you think you're doing?"
"Oh, you know, just getting acquainted with the floor. You never know when it'll decide to fall from under you, I want to be in its good graces," Weston tried to joke, but he couldn't hide the nervousness in his voice.
"Mr. Clark, would you mind telling us exactly how long you have been pressing your ear to the door?" L asked calmly.
"I… Um, well" He stammered, "only a few hours." He tried to look innocent.
"Ugh, Weston," I sighed, pinching the bridge of my nose, "Do you know how hard I've tried to keep you out of this whole mess?" I put my hand down, "I guess you've made my life a whole lot easier. Unfortunately for you," I looked him intensely in the eye, "That means yours just got a whole lot worse."
He stood up from the ground, brushing off his bright red dress, "Worse how?"
Yori grumbled, "annoying prick," under his breath before walking away to eat his long-coveted lunch.
L spoke, "By listening on us, you have officially become a part of this operation. Please be aware that any and all activities and conversations you take part in from this point on will be highly classified and you are not to breathe a word of it to anyone outside of this facility. Is that clear?"
He stared at my husband, wide-eyed, "Uh, yeah, okay. What is this 'operation,' exactly?"
And so, we told him. We explained all about the anime, Kira, the shinigami, even the shiny person. I kept watch on the monitors while L described the situation. By the time our tale had been fully told, Mr. Yagami had returned. He took off his helmet and walked into the medical room.
"I'm back," He said, "I've got-" He paused when he saw Weston in the room.
"It's quite alright, Mr. Yagami, or friend here is now well aware of what is going on. Please hand me the death note page," L held out his hand, taking the piece of paper. He pressed the button on his microphone with a click, "Watari, would you please bring down the two death notes."
"Of course," Watari replied, "Were you successful in your mission?"
"Yes, extremely," L confirmed and turned off the microphone. He finished off the last of his cake. "Mr. Clark, if you have any questions, now would be the time to ask them."
When Watari had come downstairs with the Light and the Shinigami king's notebooks, L had Weston touch each one and look at the monitors. Weston was speechless. He stared at us like we had worms crawling out of our ears.
"Well," I said, "Now you know why hundreds of people die from heart attacks on a daily basis. It's not divine, and it's not judgement day. It's just a certifiably psychopathic ghost of a man from another dimension, trying to play God. Nothing more."
"Nothing more?" Weston repeated incredulously, "Do you realize how insane this all is? If I hadn't just heard that whole conversation with your new shinigami friend I'd think this was just another one of your facetious stories!"
I shrugged, "At least you know why we asked you to dress us in drag that one time. Kira still thinks his book was taken by a man."
"Hold on," Weston took a deep breath to calm himself, "So, Lawrence's name isn't really Lawrence? Is name is literally just the letter 'L'?"
L started stacking sugar cubes one on top of the other, "That is correct. But you may continue referring to me as Lawrence, just to be safe."
"Why," Weston asked, "Everyone else here always calls you L. I thought it was just a nickname you preferred instead of Larry."
I ran my hands across my face, groaning, "Because, sweetie, you're new and we don't want you to let anything slip. Not even accidentally."
He looked offended that I would even imply such a thing. He'd always went out of his way to keep secrets. Unfortunately, as seen here, he also went out of his way to know them. He was nosy and this was what he gets for it; a secret just a little too big for him to handle. Weston was too curious for his own good.
"Mr. Clark, please go and watch the entire anime," L said, still stacking sugar cubes, "It's important for you to have all the information."
Not knowing how to react, Weston – for the first time in his life – didn't say anything. Instead, he turned around, and slowly walked away, scratching his head.
When he was gone, I flopped back on the bed, slightly bumping my head on the wall, "Ow…" I sighed, "I was hoping he would be able to restrain himself. We should probably set up sensors outside the door to prevent this from happening again."
"Yes, I think that would be best," L confirmed, placing one final sugar cube on the stack before they all tumbled down. He popped one in his mouth, "This does make things much simpler though."
"For us, yeah, but Weston's going to have a panic attack."
"Hm." He ate another sugar cube. "In any case, what's done is done."
"I just wish he understood the phrase, 'Ignorance is bliss.' He just added a whole lot of stress to his normally carefree drag show. I wouldn't be surprised if he started worrying about getting wrinkles and grey hairs."
L changed the subject, "Have you considered a reward for defeating me?"
Oh, so he was serious about that. Well, in that case, I wanted something a lot better than a slice of cake. I could go for something small, like a date night, or I could ask for something big like a trip home. It was probably too risky to ask to go back, sadly, but I enjoyed the thought.
No, I knew exactly what I wanted. Something I had been wishing for ever since I moved out of my parent's house. When I left, I had to leave behind something precious to me, and I dearly missed it. But sadly, it technically belonged to the family and I could therefore not keep it for myself.
I grinned, "I want a dog."
L looked at me curiously, "A dog?"
"Yes," I said, "Not a purebred though, I want a rescue from a shelter. And I want to help pick it out, which means another outing."
He could tell I was not asking. I had earned it, after all. He looked skeptical, but said, "I suppose."
If I could, I'd have jumped up to hug him. Instead, I had to settle for giving him a wide grin. "Thanks, L."
Once again, I was not allowed out without my doctor and a trained ex-officer to protect me. L came along too. Everyone wore masks, and Watari kept an eye outside the shelter with a sniper rifle in hand, just in case anything went south. He sat in the limo to wait. That left Weston being stuck with monitor-duty. He was to notify us immediately if anything suspicious were to happen. Most people would consider this overboard, but I knew better. All of it was necessary.
We pulled up to the animal shelter, people already gawking at the limousine, but their stares got even worse when we all climbed out. I suppose we must have made quite an odd image: A bandaged woman in a wheelchair, a hunched over man as pale as a ghost, a guy in a lab coat, and a tall dude in a suit. I'm sure our matching masks didn't help.
An old man at a desk greeted us as we went inside, "Hello, welcome." He looked up to see us and nearly jumped, "What's with the masks?" He asked cautiously.
"My wife was caught in a grease fire and was badly burned." L lied, "Please don't ask us to remove them. She feels self-conscious enough about it without being the only one wearing one."
"Oh, I see. I'm very sorry," The man gave me a pitying look, "How can I help you?"
"We want to adopt a dog," I said simply.
"Right this way," he walked through a door that led to a room filled with cramped metal cages. Inside each one was an animal. Cats and dogs, mostly, but there were some others. I thought I even saw a raccoon, but it was hard to be sure. The room was dimly lit and it smelled awful. They all looked so sad and unkempt, it broke my heart. This was exactly why I wanted to adopt; I hated seeing these innocent creatures stuck living like this.
"The canines are in the back corner. I'll be out front when you've decided which one you want." The man left the four of us alone.
I scanned the cages. I couldn't see the top row, which was annoying. On the door of each one was a piece of paper, hand-written, describing the dogs' general behavior.
"Mork - male: Terrier mix. Violent to strangers, but gentle and cuddly to known friends." He growled at us as we passed his cage.
"Dayzee - female: Unknown breed. Very friendly, a little crazy, will lick your face constantly." She hit her head against the wall, trying to get our attention.
I read all the signs that I could see. There were five on each row, meaning I could only see ten of them. None of these were the right one. I had a feeling I'd know the one I wanted when I saw them. I needed to get a look at the top row.
Without looking at Yori, I said, "I'm going to stand up."
"No, you're not," He demanded, just as I knew he would.
I smirked behind my mask, "Then there's only one thing we can do. You two," I gestured to Yori and L, "are going to have to lift me up. I need to look at the top row."
"That sounds like a terrible idea," Yagami commented, "what's wrong with the dogs on this row?"
"None of them are quite right. I'll know it when I see them."
I braced myself as Yori sighed, "You really are like a child," grabbing one side of my chair. L grabbed the other and they lifted me up just enough to see the top row.
Immediately – just as I'd predicted – I knew the one I wanted. Inside the cage was a beautiful creature. It had thick, grey fur and was curled up, sleeping.
"Unnamed - female: Silver Fox. Gentle and cuddly, obedient but easily frightened."
"That one," I said without hesitation.
"That one?" Yori asked, setting me back down, "But it's not even a dog."
"Don't care. It's a canine, that's close enough. She's perfect."
"Leave it to you to choose a dog that isn't a dog."
There were stars in my eyes as Yagami went to fetch the owner. We got a leash and collar, as well as some other important supplies. Our new addition sat on my lap, shaking. She was scared, and unsure of what was going on, but I gently stroked her fur and that seemed to help calm her down. Once she had decided I was not a threat, she cuddled up to me, claiming me as her own.
"Excuse me," Mr. Yagami said, "But how did a fox get to Tokyo?"
"This poor thing escaped from an illegal fur trade," the man explained, "By the time the police found the rest of them it was too late."
"That's awful…" I commented, suddenly feeling very protective of my new pet.
"Well then, what will you be naming her? I need it for the paperwork," the man clicked a pen and waited for my answer.
I thought for a moment, then made up my mind. The silver fox was one of my little sisters' favorite animals. So, I decided to name it after her. "Gwyneth," I said. The man wrote it down and it was official; our family had grown by one.
When everything was settled, we got back into the limo and drove off. I looked outside and didn't see any shinigami, so we went straight to the tower. By the time we arrived, Gwyneth had gotten used to us and was no longer flinching at every move we made. Yori pushed my chair back into the medical room and helped me on the bed. Gwyneth looked around curiously, but soon got bored and climbed up on my lap.
I thought she was asleep until she jumped up and nearly fell off the bed. I grinned, because I felt it too.
"L, come here." He gave me a question look, but did as directed. I took his hand and placed it on top of my belly, "Feel that? Nate just kicked."
L stared, looking like he was in awe. He pressed his ear against the now-large bump on my stomach, "It seems he did," He whispered, smiling softly.