A note to the guest reviewer Kuma: Oh no! Not the bear… (What bear?) I guess I'll just have to leave this little chapter here; I don't want to end up eaten.
Another shout-out to Sano Sauro, because they're helping me brainstorm wonderful ideas for how to make my originally-planned plot line even better than it was before. You rule good sir.
Ellie Lawliet's P.O.V.
Mikami tried to stab me. I couldn't help but laugh. If he wanted to play dirty, then so could I. There were hundreds of spider egg sacks all around this place. Wolf spiders weren't venomous, but they were still pretty darn terrifying.
Once I'd sunk through the floor, I concentrated my energy on all the eggs, speeding up their growth. I heard Misa scream. I couldn't help but grin sadistically; I've never liked Misa Amane.
But baby spiders alone wouldn't do, so I decided to help a few along, growing a good number of them to their full size. I heard L's scrambled voice in my ear, "Their room is swarming with spiders, is this your doing?"
"You wanted me to put on a show," I confirmed, "so here we are. Plus, as I'm sure you saw, Mikami stabbed me again. That, and Misa was literally killing people. I don't feel bad."
"I was not aware you had that kind of ability."
"Gods of death can only take lives; there's not a lot one can do with that. Gods of life, however, can give it, which means our abilities are far more malleable. Hatching and growing spiders is not particularly difficult."
"How interesting," he said, "That is useful. Well, since you are done, please return. Travel underground, so they don't see where you're headed."
I did, but it was super uncomfortable. I hated how suffocating traveling through miles of dirt and concrete was. It was quite a relief when I arrived at the tower. L was waiting on the top floor, "Welcome home, Ellie," he was eating cake.
"I wasn't gone long, but it still felt like I was in there for hours," I took a fork and picked off his plate, "I'm confused as to why you wanted me to give that message to Mikami. I thought we wanted our presence to remain a secret."
"We want my presence to remain a secret, yes, as well as Mr. Yagami's and Watari's. However, Light cannot kill you, so we'll use that to our advantage."
We were interrupted by Mr. Yagami, yelling into a cell phone, "What? Who could possibly have done that? – I don't care how, but find out who it was immediately!" He hung up angrily, "Unbelievable."
"Are you quite alright, Mr. Yagami?" L took another bite of cake.
"Someone helped Mikami escape."
"Really," L sounded interested, "Now that's intriguing."
"It couldn't have been Misa," I said, "She's not clever enough to pull off a prison break. But Light was the only other person associated with Kira, unless the shinigami king was lying."
"No, I have a feeling the shinigami king was telling the truth. He hasn't moved anywhere since, so we know he hasn't brought anyone new. Unless…" He looked at me with his dark, hypnotizing eyes, "Is it possible for a shinigami to bring someone through dimensions without personally escorting them?"
I shook my head, "No. Even my father had to take you here by hand, that's why your memories after death were erased. He didn't want to risk my discovering who I am before it was time. Otherwise, you'd remember everything just like Mikami does."
"In that case," L thought aloud, "there must be a rogue shinigami."
"A rogue shinigami?" I asked.
"Yes. One of them must have brought someone new here."
"But why," Weston asked from his nest on the couch, "What could they possibly have to gain?"
"Entertainment," Yori said, "A lot of them are complaining about getting bored again."
"Exactly," L agreed, "This new person is a wild card. We don't know who he is or what he wants, so he could do anything."
"So what do we do," I asked, "Should we check the security cameras?"
L took another bite of cake, "They won't reveal anything. If this new person can break a high-security prisoner out of jail, they are more than capable of evading a few security cameras."
"It's got to be someone loyal to Kira," Weston theorized, "Otherwise, why break Mikami out of all people? He hadn't said anything to link him with Kira, and we didn't either."
It's true that we never told the Japanese police of Mikami's true identity. L thought it was best if they remained on a strictly need-to-know basis. Since he was already incarcerated for my torture, his association with Kira was not vital for getting him out of the picture. I'm sure they'll have their suspicions though, now that he's contacted Misa. We've already told them that she's a person of interest in the Kira case; it won't take long for them to make the connection.
L finished his cake, then proceeded to bite his thumb, "I do not think our new person has any devotion or specific link to Kira himself. However, it is likely that he has an interest in him."
The – excessively high-tech – baby monitor indicated that Nate was waking up. He started to cry.
"I'll take care of that," I said, "You focus on figuring out who Mikami's rescuer is."
"I'll go with you," Yori volunteered.
I walked with Yori back to the nursery. Nate was screaming. I reached down to pick him up, "Hey, it's okay, Mommy's here." His eyes were wet as he clutched to my neck. "What the matter, huh?" I smelled his diaper; it was rank, "Oh, goodness, you're stinky, aren't you?"
"Here," Yori took him, "I'll change him. Go grab a diaper and the wipes." He placed my son on the changing table, giving him a wide smile, "Hey there, kid," his voice was always gentle when talking to my baby, "It's been almost a whole day since you got to see your favorite uncle, huh?" He tickled Nate's tummy, making the infant giggle.
I smiled at the sight. I'd always just sort of assumed he hated children, mostly because of his overly-sarcastic attitude. But, he genuinely loved Nate. He spoiled my son rotten with attention every chance he got. When Weston wasn't smothering my child with affections, Yori was. They practically took shifts.
I handed my friend the wipes and a fresh diaper so he could perform the most dreaded task appointed to those caring for infants. I had to take a step back, just because of the smell, "Oh, geez, how can you stand it?" I asked, "You hardly even react. Were you raised in a junkyard or something?"
He pretended to ignore me, instead talking to Nate, "Your mamma's too squeamish to handle thirty seconds of stink, and too stupid to just plug her nose. How could a smart little boy like you possibly be related?"
Nate gurgled in response.
"Oh?" Yori pretended to understand what he was saying, "Is that so?" He look behind his shoulder at me, looking me over. "Yes, I think you're right." He turned back to Nate, tying the new diaper around him, "Becoming a goddess made her go soft. Beforehand she'd have just gotten over it and dealt with the smell."
I crossed my arms, raising an eyebrow with my lips pursed, "Uh-huh. Right. In that case, I won't do anything the next time you get a migraine. If I hear one complaint out of you, I'll assume you've 'gone soft.'"
"Ooooh, your mommy got mad at me," He whispered, tickling Nate again, making him giggle and squirm.
"Alright, 'Favorite Uncle,' my turn," I picked my son off the changing table and decided to bring him to the control room with us. It was about time for him to wake up anyway. I looked at my now-smiling child, talking excitedly, "Wanna go see Daddy?"
He made a delighted noise. He was smart enough to know what 'daddy' meant. I wouldn't be surprised if he started talking soon. He's still young, but since he's quite literally a demigod with a mad genius as a father, his mental development could easily proceed more rapidly than normal. I grabbed his spider-toy and handed it to him, letting him chew on one of the legs.
Yori followed as I made my way back to the control room, probably making faces behind my back judging from Nate's laughs. When we arrived, L was staring intently at one of the monitors. It showed a news station. They were speaking Japanese, but I could see that they were outside the Tokyo police department.
"What is it," I asked, balancing Nate on my hip.
"Someone has sent the police several very unpleasant packages," L explained, playing with his bottom lip. He glanced over his shoulder at us. When he spotted Nate, he stood up, taking our son and placing him on his shoulders. Nate squealed in delight; he loved when L did this.
I looked at Yori, who was staring open-mouthed at the monitor, obviously disgusted. "What is it," I asked, "What are they saying?"
"Whoever it was," Mr. Yagami spoke up, "sent several separate packages. Inside each one was a jam jar. Only there was no jam."
"Why? What was in them?" I asked, suddenly feeling uneasy.
L looked up, casually playing with our son like his next sentence didn't belong in a horror film, "Inside each jar was a severed human body part. All of them were unique, and all of them were from different people. One had an eye, one had a finger, one had a necklace made of teeth, and so on. There were 30 in total."
"Gross," I commented, "But why do you care? Does it have something to do with Kira?" I was certainly intrigued, but L only ever took on one case at a time, and even then, they were only ones he was genuinely interested in. He'd ignored plenty of horrific crimes beforehand.
"They all arrived just before Mikami escaped from prison. None of the pieces are any more than a week old. This leads me to believe that the person who sent the jars and the person who broke Mikami out are one and the same. The timing is too perfect to be a coincidence. I've instructed the police to pay close attention to any missing person reports over the next few days."
Nate grabbed L's finger. I may have mentioned a few times that L was sexy when he was thinking, but it was nothing compared to when he was both thinking, AND playing with a baby. Something about a man being good with kids just makes women go crazy, and I am no exception to this rule. In other words: my husband is freaking hot.
L continued, "This new piece in our game only came into play recently. The jars are their way of getting our attention. It's a direct challenge. 'Catch me if you can,' they're saying."
"Okay. So, they have our attention," Yori said, "What do we do about it?"
"Well," L responded, freeing his finger to playfully poke at Nate's pale nose, "we'll simply have to bring them to justice. As long as this killer roams free, anything could happen. It's clear from everything they've done so far, that they are capable of truly despicable acts. They cannot be allowed to roam free."
"Where do we start?" Weston asked.
A slow grin spread across Yori's face, "I have an idea…"
I'm starting to think that maybe Yori is a mad genius too…
It took almost three weeks to get everything ready. We had to buy out an entire company – the same one who produced the jam whose jars were used by our killer – and print a message on each new jar. We made it into a riddle of sorts, so that it would be obvious to the killer, but virtually meaningless to anyone else.
"Have it say this in multiple languages," Yori told us, "30 red presents, each its own flavor, were picked up by the people in blue. To the one who gave the gift, allow us to thank you. Say when and where, and we'll give you even more of the thing you crave."
"Crave?" I asked, "We don't know that they crave jam. The killer might not even like it; they could have just used the jars because it was the only thing they had. What if he doesn't contact us?"
"No," L said, "The jam jars were their hint to us. A single clue, trying to give us just enough of a foothold to chase, but not catch them. They're trying to rope us into a game of cat and mouse. I have no doubt that they will contact the police with instructions of some sort."
An announcement was aired, claiming that the company was offering to give out their – which I guess is now our – brand of jam free for a single day to promote the product. It was an easily believable lie. Naturally, people flocked to grocery stores to pick up a jar. If our perp really was fond of jam, then they're almost certain to jump at the opportunity to get some for free.
It was a pricey venture, but even I didn't have any idea how deep my husband's pockets went. All he ever told me when I'd ask was that money was no object. I suppose there was enough to give out free jam to millions of people, because he didn't hesitate to carry out Yori's plan.
The day came and went, and over 22 million jars were handed out. Hopefully our killer got one, because otherwise the entire past month will have been futile. We waited, watching for any sign of a response.
Finally, after three days, there was a note… Kind of.