A/N: I'm really a jerk to my characters sometimes. I don't think that's going to change. 6_6' I refuse to appologize.
Anyway, just rememer that speech in italics is either Shinigami voice, electronically altered, from another side of electronic communication, and now when someone's speaking in English.
-DW
Chapter Twenty-Three - The Hunt
Bloodhound with his nose to the ground.
Looks for the prey, in chill autumn morning.
Lift's his head, lets out a howl.
He's found the trail.
I flop down on the hotel bed with a sigh. My suitcase is off to the side and my jacket discarded on a chair. I was a little miffed when I found out that I would be sharing a room with Light. They only had three rooms available.
"Stay on your side of the bed Light," I say sleepily, ready to doze off again. A few hours of napping on the plane weren't nearly enough to fully recharge me. At the moment my body needs sleep above all else. I intend to grant its desire.
I don't even bother to get changed or unpack. I'll do that later.
"Can I ask you a question?" I open one eye to see Light standing at the foot of the bed with his jacket folded over one arm and the other hand on his hip.
"What is it?" I close my eyes again.
"I'm just wondering, but how did you ever come to learn of … you know."
I roll my eyes from under my eyelids. I don't want to answer that question.
"I just found it."
"Somehow, I find that hard to believe."
"Why is it so important to you?"
"You traded for your eyes, why would you give up half of your life like that?" My eyes snap open, and my brow crinkles in confusion. Is that the cost of Shinigami eyes? That's horrible. My father had given up half of his life because he thought that these eyes could help me …
Even now, the Shinigami is chuckling at me, and I scowl.
"I didn't know that was the price," I growl.
"You didn't?" Light blinks in surprise.
I roll over, grabbing the pillow and hiding behind it. "I want to sleep Light. No more questions," I say though the fabric.
"How could you trade without knowing the price?" Light asks in confusion. I feel the bed shift as he sits down on the edge of it.
"I wasn't the one who traded for them," I grumble, but I know that it doesn't go unnoticed.
He doesn't say anything though, to my relief.
In the morning I take a nice long shower and change into some new clothes. I'm not going to dress into all black and sneak around like people in comics or cliché movies. It's not my style. I'm going to look perfectly normal.
After that, while Light's showering, I take out my phone and dial Mr. Andrews' number.
"Yes Detective?" he answers, and I smile.
"Andrews, how's your search going?"
"Not too good … still haven't found anything."
"I need you to come to LA as soon as you finish up your search."
"Found another possibility?"
"Oh yeah, and I have a good feeling about this one too."
"Alright then," he says, and I hang up.
Light comes out of the bathroom toweling his hair and buttoning up his shirt. I'm just sitting in the chair in the corner. He looks over at me, heads over across the room towards his suitcase, then pauses and does a double-take.
"Uh …" he begins.
"What?"
"Are you ..?"
"Spit it out Light," I roll my eyes at him and stuff my phone in my pocket.
"Are you wearing one of Ryuzaki's shirts?
I looked down at myself, and then back up at Light. "Not his anymore," I laugh mischievously.
"Why?"
"He likes them so much, so I wondered why, and he has around fifteen of them so I thought he wouldn't miss one. Besides, it actually is really comfortable," I say, standing up. He wears one every single day so there must have been something special about them. I found out what that special thing was: they are pretty damn comfy.
I'm also pretty sure he knows that I stole one. I don't wear it when he's around, but the morning after I stole it (back when we were hotel-jumping) I swear I saw him smirking at me. So I think I'm in the clear, but the thought still makes me laugh.
The shirt's a little big for me … okay, a little more than a bit. He's pretty damn skinny, but this shirt is pretty roomy on him, not to mention that he's taller than me. So the sleeves are too long for my arms and go past my fingers, while the rest looks like I could fit a cat in there and people wouldn't be able to tell the difference. But damn is it comfy, so I'm keeping it.
After Light gets ready (I think he takes way too long with his hair) he goes and fetches Matsuda and Aiber for me. When they walk in, Matsuda blinks at me a few times before grinning goofily and standing off to the side. Aiber and Light stand a little ways away from me as I fiddle around with the case file.
"Aiber, you worked on this Case … didn't you?" He doesn't look surprised. I had hinted at it when we came along (but never mentioned that he was on the case) and he had answered the way that I expected. Aiber was on the case itself, under L, probably as back-up if something went wrong, but still on the case. He'll have more insight on it than I will.
"Yes I was."
"Good. I want to start by scouting the area of the first murder scene," I say, flipping open the file to the page on it.
We head to the old scene of the crime, Insist St, Hollywood. I remember when I was little how my classmates would talk about their favorite celebrities or how one day they would make it to Hollywood. In fact, I probably would have felt honored if I wasn't here to find a body.
It's funny how the world works.
The four of us casually make our way down the street, looking around for places where you could possibly kill yourself without being found.
During our rounds of the street, I have a thought. What if Light had written down that the body would be unrecognizable? That would put a nice big hole in my plans. I'll have to look into the morgue and the LAPD to see if they have an unidentified body …
Just in case.
The area looks pretty normal. Houses, backyards, people going about their everyday business. We get a few dirty looks from some people. I mean, who wouldn't be suspicious of us. I'm dressed pretty oddly (don't tell Ryuzaki I said that) and Aiber is older than us. Matsuda just looks like an idiot and Light … is Light. I even see a couple of girls fawning over him.
Go ahead and have him. Fucking lunatics.
I frown as we make our way out of there. I doubt a killer would buy a house to hide his things if he were to kill himself in the process … It's just not practical. From what I gathered, B was a very thorough person and rather practical. There were absolutely no fingerprints, a crossword only a genius could solve, even burning his own body past recognition. Rather painful, but practical in his situation.
This is a very unlikely area where he would hide himself.
As soon as we return, I have the FBI connect me to the LAPD through my phone. I flip the voice switch to on and have Light go off with Matsuda.
"So, you're Detective Red?" a voice asks me in English, presumable the director of the LAPD.
"That I am," I reply in the same language.
"May I ask what business you have with us?"
"I need to know if there is an unidentified body in the morgue, presumably a young woman in her mid-twenties."
"Any reason behind this?"
"Yes." Man, I love messing with people like this, just knocking them down a few pegs.
"Erm …"
"Thank you very much, director. Call this number when you have the information I need," I hang up, smirking in self-satisfaction.
Two days later we've checked out the other two areas where murders occurred. As I went down the list, the probability that a hideout would be in that area increased. I still have the place where there was an attempted suicide, but I will leave that for last. In the meantime the FBI and Mr. Andrews should be arriving any hour. Their search was fruitless.
At the moment I'm just relaxing in the hotel room with Light. I'm reading recent world news on my laptop, while Light looks like he's deep in thought.
"Kurai?" Light asks suddenly, and I look over at him.
"Yes?"
"I was just wondering … What is Ryuzaki to you?" he says, completely serious yet also curious from his tone. I wonder what that's supposed to mean …
"Um … Well, I guess he is my friend," I gave a small smile, "We understand each other in a way that I can't fully explain …" I shrug. "Why'd you ask?"
"Well, you just always seem so open with him, and you're not afraid to give him your opinion," I smile, remembering the night we first met. I told him outright that I thought his bluff on bringing investigators to Japan was stupid. We didn't even get a reaction from Kira, as I expected.
"Yeah, I guess that's true."
"Can I ask you another question?"
"… Alright."
"Why'd you move out of your parent's place and in with Ryuzaki?"
I freeze up and stare down at the floor, "My parents are dead, Light."
"I'm sorry."
"No you're not."
"How did it happen?" I glance up at him, feeling slightly nauseous. My stomach is churning, and I don't really want to answer him.
"I don't want to talk about it," I mumble, before returning to look at my computer screen. I follow the words, but I don't take them in anymore.
My Mother had been murdered.
My Father had committed suicide.
Both had died by his hands.
"Andrews, good to hear from you," I say, false cheer in my voice.
"You asked us to come to LA, well, here we are."
"Wonderful. I'll be sending you some instructions for places to examine shortly." I say and hang up. I then dial in a new number.
"Detective Red."
"Mr. Director. Have you found anything yet?"
"No, there isn't an unidentified body that matches your description. I was going to call later but-"
"No need to explain. I am just calling to let you know that I am having some FBI agents snoop around the city in search of something. Please do not interfere."
"What are you looking for?"
"A body of course."
I hang up.
Dammit, I can't find anything! I was certain that this was the city that I would find her. I can almost taste victory.
Now where the hell is she?!
I have just woken up from a much-needed nap (at 4:00 AM). It's around six now, and I'm just waiting for Light to wake up. He's deep in sleep, breathing heavily from beside me. It's dark outside, the only light seeping into the room from streetlamps and the passing cars.
How could a killer sleep easily at night, knowing that they had ended so many lives? It doesn't matter that they are criminals; they're not evil, just misguided, lost, mistaken.
The justice system isn't perfect, but that's because it's made by imperfect people. We're all different, unique. What gives anyone the right to end a life? We strive for the good, the greater good, healing and hoping. We can never guarantee complete safety, but we can try to protect people.
That means everyone.
I hear Light shift from beside me. He's waking up.
Light, how could you even think that killing the bad people in the world is the answer?
You're just as bad as them now.
"Auh … you're still awake?" Light mumbles sleepily.
"I had some sleep," I reply quietly.
The bed shifts and I glance over to find Light staring at me. I stare right back. A small grin spreads across his face, and I frown in return.
"You know … It's odd," he says, fully awake now.
"Hm?"
"We've been dating for at least two and a half months … but you haven't let me kiss you." Not this again. I told him that I'm not one of those people. I roll my eyes and look away to stare at the ceiling. Again, I regret agreeing to this.
"You did … once."
"I apologized for that. Why won't you believe me?"
"Just drop it." He chuckles and reaches over to brush some of the hair out of my eyes. I instinctively flinch, but he ignores it and tucks a strand of hair behind my ear.
"I'm sorry about your parents. It must have been awful for you," he says softly.
Fire, smoke, bells, burning, death.
I shudder. "I had to watch her die … I had to watch as she was murdered." A single tear rolls down my cheek and I clench my fists. Light wipes it away with his fingers, and I glare at him. "Stop it."
"Stop what?"
"You know very well. Cut it out," I move to get off the bed, legs swinging over the edge. Light comes up from behind me and wraps his arms around my waist and puts his chin on my shoulder.
"Murdered?"
"By Kira," I hiss.
"She was killed by your notebook," he states, and I tense up. "Have you ever used it?"
"… Once."
I turn my head and raise my arm so that I can pry him off of me when I am interrupted.
He's kissing me.
Again.
This isn't like last time, where he was driven by urgency to capture a hold on me. It's slower … My whole body has frozen, and I can't even move.
Just when my lungs are starting to burn, he draws back and presses his forehead to mine. Panting slightly, I stare into his brown eyes. I can't find anything in them. They're unreadable.
"I truly am sorry for your loss," he whispers, and smiles. I scowl, and shove him off of me before heading off towards the bathroom. I need a shower to get rid of this scummy feeling.
Slam!