CHAPTER 27
UNHEARD BELL
V'S POV
Something was wrong. Or, at least, too right. But knowing my nature, 'too right' was never a good thing. Something felt too . . . attractive. Was someone bleeding?
I shook my head, directing my interest back onto the black notebook of death. The Death Note.
All rules reasonable and legitimate.
Except the ones at the back. They stated that the writer has to consistently write in the book every 13 days, or they will die. I did not like that rule. If it is true, then Light and Misa will be clear of suspicion and that is not what I want. No, what I want is to have Misa executed, and to have Light's blood on my hands.
"Hey!" Matsuda cheered after Aizawa had finished reading out all the rules, including the ones at the back. "If that's true then that means Light and Misa-Misa are completely cleared, doesn't it?!"
Everyone considered this for a second, and then relaxed, realising Matsuda was right. "Yeah, now that you've mentioned it, that's right! Light and Misa were detained for more than 50 days and are still under covalence! If either of them had been Kira, then there's no way they'd be alive right now."
This was not good.
"Rem?" I said, turning to the Shinigami. It looked over at me with a bored, almost sad expression. "Are these rules all real? They were not made up by anyone?" More pacifically Light.
"No, all rules are the same in both the Shinigami realm and the human world." I stepped closer, staring intently at the emotionless expression on the creature's face.
"So what you are saying . . ."— I turned my head to the killer notebook and walked closer to it, my back to the Shinigami. —". . . is that if I were to suddenly . . ."— I paused my feet when I was in front of Aizawa, and snatched the book from his hands, startling him slightly, then turned back to Rem. —". . . rip a page from the Death Note, we would all die?"
I pretended not to notice the worried look on the taskforce's expressions. "Yes, that is correct." I stared up at her for another few seconds, before looking around the room at all the frozen men (clearly suspicious of what I was about to do), and then smiled as I opened the book full of only names and death courses, as well as rule that were possibly fake.
"Well that is a risk I am willing to take."
"NO! Don't—!" Too late, I had already ripped out a piece of the lined paper. Everything was silent for a few seconds. Nothing happened. I was right. I never doubted I would be. I chucked as I scrunched the paper into a small ball and let it fall through my fingers. "Why . . . why would you do that?!" Matsuda yelled furiously. I took a single moment out of my happiness to stare at him blankly, then gave him a toothy grin and shot my attention back on the book.
The lack of attention Matsuda was getting from me made him angrier, so he stomped his way around the table that had been set up and got in my face. I did not look at him this time, not because I was afraid of what he would look like, but I wanted to observe his reaction, and see how far he would go to get me to take him seriously.
"V! Why would you do that—?!"
"So I was right," I murmured to myself.
"You could have gotten us all killed—!"
"Fascinating."
"Was that your plan? Do you want us dead—?!"
"Not all rules are real—"
"VAMPIRE!" I knew, with his new found courage and wits he had gained since he became a member of the Kira case, that he would do something to get his message across, but grabbing my shirt collar and yanking me up to his eye level had been on the pile of unlikely things he would do. I had thought he would have simply yelled louder. "WHY WOULD YOU TRY TO KILL US?!"
I said nothing, but at least this time I had my eyes on him. He seemed very angry, and so cunning. He really was a man now, he truly was worthy of the title 'Kira Taskforce Member'. I let a smile grace across my lips and tapped his clasped hands on my shirt soothingly. His face softened, and then a wave of realisation crossed it.
"V . . . I'm . . ." He gasped when he looked down at his fists, letting go of my white button shirt as though it had caught on fire. "I'm so sorry! I don't know what came over me, I just—"
"There, there, Matsuda," I reassured him. "I understand, and I apologise for startling you all, but it was a test I simple could not afford to pass up." I turned to look at all the gasping men. "This is conclusive proof of the rules being faulty. The ones at the front are clearly true from the evidence we have already, but the once at the back are more than likely fake to work in the favour of the original owner." I glanced at Light. He seemed . . . stunned, scared and . . . mad.
He was not Light anymore. He was not the kind boy with a passion for justice; he was Kira, the crazy blood thirsty murderer. I turned back to the Shinigami.
"Isn't that right, Rem—" I cut off, sucking in a deep breath of air that made a choking-gag-like sound. I could smell it. Something I had been dying to smell, until now that is. When was the last time I drank? A week? A fortnight? This was not good.
"W-what's going on?"
"Are you okay?"
"You shouldn't have ripped out the piece!"
"No," I choked out. "That is not it."
I was wrong to ignore my 'too right' nature in the first place, because I was now curtain someone was bleeding; only it was the completely wrong person.
"L-Light?" I turned hesitantly. I have to watch myself when this thirsty, or I might just kill him before anyone could register what was even happening. But would it really be that bad? He stared back at me, worried and slightly scared. I'm sure I had a scary enough expression to make any child cry.
"Yes, V? What is it?"
". . . A-are you b-bleeding?" Though I already knew the answer, there was still a small part of me that hoped I was wrong. He frowned, and then looked down at his left hand, revealing a tiny red dot on one of his fingers.
"Yeah, but it's only a little cut, and it stopped bleeding hours ago." Oh dear Lord, this was not good. Now that he had revealed his insignificant cut, the scent was stronger, whipping at my face like an invisible whip. It was simply mouth-watering! Words could not describe the scent, but the scene was slightly easier.
My legs were willing me to move towards the scent, to lunge at the owner of it, but something held me back. I forgot what it was, my sight and sanity was clouded by my lust, but whatever it was, it was important, so I could not give into myself.
I grinded my teeth together, fighting myself as I take a step forward. If I could not even remember the reasons I should step away, then why stop? This is what I am, and I am happy about that. This man, this boy was no longer the one I considered a friend. I have no friends.
This was it, the death of the boy of whose name was nothing but a faded memory clouded by blood lust. He would die, no one could stop me, what could they do? What were they against me? They are nothing. This boy would die; it mattered not if he had committed a crime as all my other victims had, it never did. As a bowled my head (a silent sibylic action that I was about to pounce) a distant but recognizable voice call out.
"V! Stop!" V? Who was V? That is not my name. What is my name? This question was enough to make me stop in my tracks, deep in thought. I have no name. I am not Vampire, Ester Hade, Nancy Grillchi or even V. I am nothing, as I had reminded myself countless amounts of times as a child. "V?"
I closed my eyes, holding my breath and swallowed as I did so. I was going to . . . kill Light Yagami. No, I stand corrected; I am going to kill Kira. His blood reeks of pure ignorance, greed and evil. He deserves to die!
I napped my eyes open, prepared to resume my attack, but instead of seeing my victim as I thought I would, I came to meet the blank stare of a raven headed man, standing right next to my victim.
L. He was my friend. He is my friend. And he is the reason for me to step back, to let Kira live, until we conflicted further evidence against him.
"V?" he asked softly, tilting his head. "Is everything alright?" No, I would not kill Kira. Not now. The monster in me did not like that at all, so I was not surprised when the aching pain ripped at my insides.
"Gah," I groaned, grating my teeth, stepping back with my back crouched. "Gah . . ."
"V? Are you alright?" L stepped forward.
"No! S-stay away! Please—Gah!" I pushed my hands again my stomach, hoping to ease the pain. It did not work. Crouching my back lower, and continued stepping backwards as far as the chain would allow. I liked to think I would do nothing to harm him, or the others, I liked to think I was nothing but helpful to them, but that could not be further from the truth. I am dangerous. And no amount of blood could help that.
Unless. . .
"GAH! Oh God!" I collapsed, falling forward onto the hard, cold floor.
"Watari! Come here and take V to room 051, and hurry!"
Chug, chug, chug! I repeated to myself as I drank down the bags of blood. Room 051 is a room L created pacifically for me. It was a room with a freezer and heater, the freezer being filled with blood bags and the heater being used to heat the blood, but I did not bother to do that today, I just sat next to the freezer, chugging down cold blood. Any other day this would have been disgusting, but I did not want to wait anytime getting rid of my aching stomach.
"V?" came, almost the very last voice I expected to hear. This was the voice of Aizawa. What could he want? "I'm coming in, okay?" I didn't reply. Denying him access would indicate the fact that I did not want him to look at me, and that is a sign of shame. I would not show that kind of emotion. "Okay." I heard him breath in a deep breath, then entire, opening the door slowly. "Umm, are you feeling alright?"
I continued my silence; wiping away the stream of blood I had formed from the corner of my lips to my chin in an attempt to look slightly more presentable. Aizawa cringed and shuttered.
"Umm, did I come at a bad time?"
"What do you want, Aizawa?" He understood that I was not in the mood for small talk, as I never was, and got straight to the point.
"I just wanted to say . . . thank you."
"For what?"
"For . . ." He stepped closer so he had more room to close the door behind him. "For that little talk you had with me, after I let the taskforce. The one about you and your non-blood related family. The reason you are here." I understood what he spoke of.
"This is not something you should be thanking me for."
"No, it is! If it weren't for you . . . I don't know where I'd be right now."
"Well, certainly not here, with me. You would be back out there, catching Kira," I reminded him, pointing in the direction of the main work room.
"Do you really think that?"
"Yes. You would have made your way back here without my help, Aizawa." With that said he was able to leave peacefully. But I, on the other hand, remand there, my mind far from being peaceful. How was I supposed to gain Kira's trust when I could hardly keep myself from killing him? These blood bags were useless to the face of Kira.
And so to continue my earlier thought before I collapsed in agony. I would remain dangerous to Kira and the taskforce; unless I drink the blood of something I have never tried before, something inhuman.
The Shinigami. "Rem?" I murmured. "Rem?"
"What do you want?" the tiered voice that could only belong to the one thing I was looking for came. I looked up at the bone-y creature and smiled darkly.
"Please, tell me, Rem, do Shinigami have blood?"
"Only some, but not all. Blood is unnecessary for Shinigami." Exhalent.
"Good. Then I suppose it is possible for you to . . . give some to me then?" She seemed quite taken aback by this.
"Why would you want that?"
"Because, Rem. I would like to drink it."
"I cannot do that."
"And why not?" I challenged. The Shinigami did not seem to like my demanding attitude.
"You know I could kill you at any time," she threatened. "All I have to do is write you name down in my Death Note, and you would be gone."
"No you would not. You could not." She narrowed her eyes and I smirked wider.
"And why is that?"
"Because you would not want your precious Light to die, would you?" She seemed to relax at my threat.
"He means nothing to me." I believed her words. If Kira did not mean anything to her, then what could? It did not seem likely that she cared for anything. I felt the point in saying my next threat was mute, but did anyway.
"Or Misa Amane." At this she tensed. So, a death God cares about an annoying supermodel? Well, at least it is something I could use. I smirked wider. The Shinigami could see that I had court her, so she did not waste time denying it.
"You will not touch her. It would be impossible for you to harm her if I wrote your name in my death Note."
"No, that is where you are wrong." I stood up and walked around. This act was always one that resembled one of dominance. I was dominating a Shinigami. "Yes, it is impossible for someone to kill another in 40 seconds when they are not even in eyesight, but it is also impossible to kill someone without a name with a Death Note." I had her in checkmate now.
"What do you want me to do?"
"I only want the blood of a Shinigami, if you do not supply it then find another, just make sure it is from a death god, I will know if it is not, do this and I will not kill Light or Misa." The Shinigami said nothing; she only stared at me for a good five seconds before vanishing threw a wall.
Rain, in my opinion, is one of the most beautiful things about life. It was any amazing element, because, like the sun, it is able to give life, and can take it away just as easily. Do we really deserve the life it gives; do we even deserve the death it brings?
These questions are exactly what had me consider turning back, to retreat from the stairs leading to the roof of the building.
It had been a few days since I almost attacked Kira, and only one day since I drunk the blood of a death God.
It had tasted . . . dead, but surprisingly soothing and satisfying. The blood I usually had was satisfying in a way that felt as though I had found water on a scorching hot day, but the Shinigami blood was satisfying in a way that felt as though I had been exhausted beyond explanation and was finally able to sleep. I still did not know whether Rem had given me her own blood or had gone out to retrieve another's (it seemed more likely for her to get another's with the fact that she looked to be nothing but bone), but soon abandoned the thought when I decided it did not matter.
"Hey, V." That soft yet dark voice, the voice I had grown to hate, came from the beginning of the large hall I found myself walking down. I stopped walking, but did not turn around.
"Hello, Light." I could almost smell his intimidating smirk. I was not sure if this was because of the Shinigami's blood, the blood bags or just the fact that he was not bleeding anymore, but I no longer had a problem being around him. The taskforce (Mr. Yagami in particular) had protested on me being around Kira, but L had permitted it anyway. Logically, it made little sense, for all he knows I could kill Kira at anytime. Perhaps that was exactly what he was hoping for.
"What are you doing here?"
"What are you doing here?" I returned in the exact same curious tone as he had used. I could hear his footsteps as he walked closer.
"I don't actually have a reason. Do you?" My already slouched back lowered further.
"Yes." He was standing next to me now, to my left. I did not look at him.
"And why is that?" I turned my head to the right, away from him, to stare out the large, clear windows and at the colourless clouds and water blankly.
"To feel the rain." With that said I turned my head away and continued walking. But Kira would not let this convocation go just yet.
"V?" I stopped walking again. "About what happened a few days ago, I just wanted you to know that I forgive you." He . . . forgives me? After what I almost did to him?
I turned my face to stare at his, my emotionless mask still in place. "I never apologised," I reminded him. His smirk grew more pronounced and he cocked his head to the right ever so slightly.
"You never had to."
Those eyes. Eyes that had once, and still could, capture the attention of almost any woman, despite they were the colour known to be dull and boring. They had once shown such purity, compaction and warmth. Now all they show is darkness, negative mystery and coldness. The eyes of true evil. My eyes had never looked like that.
So it was true. I am not evil, only insane. I remembered a time when I had thought I was not insane, then the times I had thought I was. I was never sure, but now I am. I had thought I was dark minded, I thought I saw the world in a way that no one could, and that is true, but I now know that I was never evil, and that being insane was better than evil. It was better than being like Kira, because that kind of evil is dark enough to willingly kill a beautiful young man with a bright future. It was soulless enough to take away Light.
I stared at him for a few more seconds before turning around fully and walked towards him. He did nothing but stand there has I stood in front of him, and then slowly raised my arms to embrace him in a gentle hug. "Thank you . . . Kira." I did not speak the rest out lowed. For showing me that there is something worst then myself out there.
". . . You're welcome," he murmured as he returned the embrace. He must have thought I was referring to something else. That is not what I was thinking about though. He had not denied being Kira. Clearly, he had either not heard me correctly, or he thought he had no reason to, and he was right to think so. If I were on his side then there would be absolutely no way he could ever loose, against L or anyone, and if I was not, no one would believe me if I were to tell them about this convocation. Who would believe a crazy killer?
I then let my arms fall back to my sides, turned away and continued to walk. He did not stop me this time, but instead walked the opposite way. Good.
Outside was as nice as I had thought it would be. The clouds were as grey as they were out the window and the rain was bucketing down as hard as it had sounded. Beautiful. But my attention was not on the weather for long before a figure court my eyes. The figure wore a plain, white shirt, loose jeans, had messy, ebony hair and a pronounced slouch.
L.
I did not speak a word to him as I lazily dragged myself through the heavy rain and wind to stand beside his and stare at the dark sky. "Are you alright, V?"
"Yes," I mumbled, turning to look at his sad face that had cast downwards. "Should I not be?"
"No, it's just that . . ."— He looked back up at the sky. —"I worry about you sometimes."
I did not question him, as I normally would have.
"Is there a reason you're here, V?"
"I wanted to listen to the rain." I could feel him eyes on me now, but I did not look away from the clouds. "And were better place to do that then the roof?"
"Hmm," he hummed in both agreement and thought. "I'm here for a similar purpose."
"And that purpose being?"
". . . To listen to the bell." I looked over at him. It was his turn to stare at only the sky. "Were better place to do that then the roof?" I pressed my lips together tightly and listened out for these bells he spoke of. I heard nothing.
"Bell?"
"Yes, the bell. It's been ringing unusually loud today." I listened harder, but heard nothing but rain and distant cars.
"Really? I cannot hear it." He turned back to me.
"Oh. You can't hear it?" I shook my head. "It's been ringing none stop all day. I find it . . . very distracting. I wonder if it's a church. Maybe a wedding, perhaps a . . ."
I lifted my hand to pull it behind my ear in hopes I will be able to hear this bell, but there was nothing of it, andif I could not hear it, then it was not there. Or maybe there was a bell. But the bell could only be heard by L. Perhaps this was his bell. A bell unheard of by everyone but him. "I do not believe it is either of them."
He stared at me with sad eyes, then cast them back down, slouching even more then he already was. "I'm sorry. Nothing I say makes sense anyway. If I were you I wouldn't believe any of it."
"And I to you. If you listened to everything I say . . ." Who knows where or who he would be right now.
"Yes. That's fare . . . but . . . tell me, V, in all your years of running, hiding . . . living, have you ever met a person that has ever told the truth?" What was he getting at? He was obviously talking about Kira. About humanity.
". . . No," I admitted, looking down also. "I do not believe there is anyone out there capable of being or saying nothing but the truth." He said nothing as he considered the sad but truthful words. "I do not know if you will believe this, but I think I am the most honest person I have ever met."
"Oh. Is that so?" He snickered. "You know I can't believe that, V. I can't believe anything you say."
"I know. That is why I often question why you let me join the taskforce so easily in the first place." This was also true. "I had known you would let me join . . . I just thought you would have shown at least a little reluctance."
"I was reluctant," he said, mater-of-fact. This would have come as somewhat unexpected, but the part of me that cared had disappeared for the moment. I waited for him to continue. "After the kiss thirteen years ago, I had been nothing but determined to catch you, than laugh at you when seeing you behind bars."
I remained silent, considering this. I was not surprised he felt this way; in fact I would have thought him to be crazy to feel anything else.
". . . We should get inside," he finally suggested. "We're both soaked."
"Alright," I agreed.
I sighed as I wiped my dripping wet white hair with the towel L had given me.
"Well, that was an unpleasant outing." I chuckled and shifted in my spot on the stairs.
"I disagree. Outdoors is nice, no matter the wether." I could feel his eyes longer on the back on my towel covered head, and then came to sit in front of me. I thought nothing of it, until he took my foot by his hands. "What are you doing?" I asked. My tone was not demanding as others would have been, just curious.
"I thought I might help you out," he replied incessantly. "You were busy wiping yourself off anyway."
"You do not have to; I am capable of drying myself."
"I can give you a massage as well," he offered with a tiny smile. "It's the least I could do to atone for my sins. I'm actually pretty good at this." I almost refused, and was about to tell him it was an unnecessary deed and that I could take care of myself, but the look in his eyes pulled me away from the idea.
"Do as you please, I will not object," I permitted casually, leaning back slightly as I looked away from him wide black eyes.
"Alright." He took my foot more firmly in his hands with the towel clasping it, then squeezed. His touch was rather gentle, but there was enough pressure so my foot could feel the satisfying tingle. I leant back further and was beginning to allow myself to enjoy the feeling, when I felt drops of cold water drip onto my foot. I looked down and saw it was caused by L's soaked hair, the water sliding through his locks and onto my foot. They could have easily been mistaken for tears.
I snickered and used my towel to wipe his hair at the front. "Your hair is still wet." He looked up at me with the same sad expression on his face.
"I'm sorry." I did not understand. I could hear that there was a hidden meaning to his words, but I could not fathom what it was. Why was he so sad? He was acting as though his world was ending. "It'll be lonely, won't it?"
"Hmm?" I asked, frowning a little in frustration from all the questions stirring in my head. He gazed up at me with his black hair covering his right eyes and a small smile on his lips.
"You and I will be parting away soon." I had not considered it like that. After the case is completely solved, and we have obtained all the notebooks . . . then what? What will I do then? When I first started this case I had planned to solve it, then go straight back to my ordinary life. Hunt then drink, hunt then drink, until the day I died, but now I could not picture myself doing that, living a life like that. What would I do?
I was at a loss for an answer, until my deceased mother's words echoed through my memory. 'Babe, chill, you think too much. Just relax and enjoy what you have, 'cause what you have is something.' Never had anything she has ever said been as inspiring as it is now.
I smiled as I lifted the towel higher and began drying his hair more. He protested to nothing, if anything he encouraged it as he tilted his head against the towel. When I was almost done he took my wrist in his hand and looked into my eyes. I did not let myself wonder why they were so sad, but I instead stared back at them, smiling a little wider.
I was not sure what was happening, but I did not bother trying to figure it out, loyally sticking to my mother's advice as L's lips brushed kindly against my own.
How had we reached this point? I suppose there was always a part of me that knew it eventually would happen. But being this close to L, it made me wonder if I really had planned to drink his blood. L is not a victim, he is a friend.
My best friend. I could not let him die, by the hand of Kira or my own. Much less my own.
We stayed like that for a while, our eyes closed, not moving, that is, until his phone rang. He then pulled away, quickly answering it. I did not pay attention to what he was saying. Instead I reached up to graze my figures against my lips. L and I had kissed twice now, but this was slightly different.
Why had he done that?
I looked up at his now standing form, tempted to ask this question out loud, but he seemed too distracted to answer it anyway.
"Come on, V," he murmured, his back to me when he had hung up the phone. "It seems everything is working out."
I said nothing. I did not question him, ague with him, or even speak to him; I only got up off the stairs and followed.
Hello.
Sorry this took some time . . . again. I'll try to be fast next time.
If anyone has any ideas for next chapter, just tell me. I love ideas!