Welcome to chapter twenty-one. Yeah...some shit went down today, and I haven't been doing too well mentally, so if my chapters are a tiny bit shorter over the next two/three updates I hope you understand. If I hadn't edited this chapter beforehand, I don't think I would have been able to post. But do not fear; no matter what happens, no matter what life throws my way, I will finish posting this story. No doubts about it. Scout's honor.
Also, I realize that I posted on Monday instead of Tuesday this week. It was a bit of a mental lapse on my part, and I could explain how and why it happened, but I don't think its important. On a happier note, my thanks go out to those of you who have reviewed, and those of you who are just following along and enjoying my story. I lack the energy to be all happy-go-lucky at the moment, and add tons of explanation marks after every other word, but still...you have my thanks.
Chapter 21: The Broken Path
When L reached the Teito Hotel he was greeted with the feeling of something being undeniably, inexplicably wrong. He stood outside the double doors, gazing past the murky glass, and could see nothing. No lights, no movement... nothing. He reached out one hand hesitantly and grasped the handle of one of the doors. He pulled experimentally, and the door opened slightly with a loud creak. This was odd... the hotel should not be closed. Hotels didn't close. So why was it so lifeless? L felt a gush of wind push at his back, as if nature itself were urging him to enter the building. He shot a glance over his shoulder. The sky was dark and cloudy, as it had been when he left the headquarters, but now thunder rumbled in the distance. A flash of lightning lit up the sky. L shivered as watery flakes of snow began to drift down from the heavens. The ground began to fill with tiny dots of water as the flakes melted—it was not yet cold enough for the flakes to hold their form.
This is certainly ominous... L thought, running a hand through his hair, which was being peppered with swiftly melting crystals of ice. He pulled on the door a bit more, wincing as the hinges shrieked. This, too, was strange. A hotel as high quality as this one shouldn't have squeaky hinges. He pushed his doubts to the back of his mind, checking for the hundredth time to make sure the gun with the all-powerful bullet was still holstered at his belt. Then he adjusted his helmet, checked the safety on his gun, took a deep breath, and entered the hotel.
It was cold inside, as if the heat had been left off for a very long time. The front desk was deserted, and the lights were completely off. Weird... L approached the desk and peered behind it, searching in the darkness for the book that contained the names and room numbers of all guests staying in the hotel. His fingers drifted over the desk blindly; it was so dark that he could barely see his hands in front of him. L frowned, rummaging around in the desk drawers until his fingers brushed a cardboard box. A tentative shake of said box confirmed L's suspicions—he was holding a box of matches. His other hand roamed across the desk until he located a metal disc. Above the disc there was a long, cylindrical object that terminated in a rough-feeling wick. One of the decorative candles. L struck a match and lit it sloppily. There was a brief hiss and the faint smell of smoke, then a sudden flare of light that illuminated the desktop and everything around it. L pocketed the small box of matches and moved the candle to the center of the desk. Now... he needed the logbook. He already knew that Kira was in room 1313, but he wanted to see, just to be sure, what the murderer had put down when he was checking in. L searched the desktop with careful eyes, seeking out the book.
Ah, there it was! L reached out and picked up the black book, which had been tucked neatly by the computer. He flipped open the book to the last marked page, and scanned the page nervously.
Clang! Clatter!
L whipped his head up and spun around fearfully, hand darting to his gun. His gaze flitted over the room before him, coming to rest on the slight twitch of movement in the darkness across the room to his right. L slowly moved one hand to grasp the candle, holding it up so that it illuminated the darkened area. The space to the right of the reception desk housed a large marble staircase covered with a soft looking red carpet. A staircase just like it existed on the left side, the two sets of stairs connecting in a large balcony above the reception desk. Presumably there was an elevator located up in that area, along with chairs and tables for relaxation. But L couldn't care less about that at the moment. All he cared about was the sight of a glass jar as it bounced and rolled down the carpeted stairs to his right and hit the marble floor with a resounding crack. L tucked the logbook under one arm and slowly began to move towards the jar, candle held aloft. The dull light of the flame made the shadows dance on the walls around him, making the whole place seem much creepier than it really was.
L reached the jar and knelt beside it. His heart leapt into his throat. It was a glass jar just small enough for him to wrap his fingers around. A stick line of red trailed down the stairs and across the floor from where the contents of the jar had spilled. Small splatters of the stuff painted the carpet where it had bounced, displacing the substance within. L righted the jar and dipped one finger inside, raising the substance to that it was just under his nose. He inhaled deeply, and—
Jam. It was jam.
Bile rose in L's throat as he swiftly wiped his sticky finger on his pants. He felt a sense of dread rise within him, overriding the feeling of hope he'd been harboring. Did this mean that he had miscalculated? Was Beyond back? But no, it couldn't be! Rem would have told him if Beyond had returned, she'd said that she would get in contact if anything changed! There was no way that Beyond was here!
...Right?
It occurred to L that he hadn't yet seen Rem. Where was she? L placed the candle on the ground beside the jar as he pulled out the black notebook tucked beneath his arm. He reopened it to the last page that had been written on and went back to scanning the names. They were all normal, all strangers, until—
There... the very last name on the page, written in bright red ink as opposed to the others, which were written in dark blue or black. Light Yagami. L frowned at the use of his lover's name. No doubt Kira had wanted to prevent a stir by using Light's name rather than his own. It wouldn't exactly go well if someone walked into a hotel and checked in using the name 'Kira.' But still…how had this escaped the gaze of the successors? They were constantly checking every hotel, every apartment complex to see if anyone suspicious checked in—and someone using the name Light Yagami definitely counted as suspicious. Perhaps, L thought darkly, Kira had erased Light's name from the system, and it was just written in the logbook rather than stored in the computer. But still…why take the chance? What did it mean, and what was he playing at?
There was no time for such questions. L's eyes raked the room number written beside Light's name, double checking what he already knew, and it was just as he'd suspected. Room 1313. How symbolic. Kira was taking a page out of Beyond's book. Or rather, B.B's book. L was reminded of the B.B. Murder Cases, and shuddered. This case wouldn't turn out like that one. He wouldn't let Beyond escape again, and he would do everything in his power to end Kira.
L left the book on the ground next to the jar of jam. He stood with the candle in his hand and took a quick look around the room. He spotted a metal box attached to the wall behind the reception desk, and he moved to examine it. He opened the front of the box and peered inside. It looked like the circuit board for the hotel. A circuit board that had been mangled horribly, the wires behind the switches and levers forcibly pulled loose and cut. So that was why it was so cold and dark... the power had been cut. No doubt Kira had been the one to do it. Which, of course, brought L right back to wondering why no one had noticed what was going on in the hotel. It was, after all, a very nice, very busy hotel. It was hard to believe that no one had noticed what was going on here.
Another noise sounded from upstairs. L didn't jump this time, though he felt a spike of fear shoot through him. He took a deep breath, reminding himself that he was perfectly capable of handling whatever was making those noises. With that in mind, he headed up the staircase, carefully maneuvering around the sticky trail of jam. His feet felt confined and uncomfortable in the heavy boots, and the things were making embarrassingly loud sounds as they thumped against the carpet. L found himself worrying about being detected, but…
Unless something had gone horribly wrong, Kira shouldn't know that L was coming for him. But it was just a little too hard to pass that jar of jam off as a coincidence. L was going to have to be careful, just in case his hand had been tipped. Just in case Kira had done the impossible and discovered his plan.
L continued up the staircase until he reached the large, elegantly furnished area that sat above the reception desk. It was a foyer-like area, with beautiful paintings lining the walls. The walls themselves were painted a deep gold that perfectly complimented the red velvet and dark stained wood of the furniture. In terms of said furniture, there were three small tables spread out around the area, each surrounded by three beautiful red velvet chairs framed by intricately carved deep brown oak frames. The tables were made of the same dark oak, circular in shape and covered partially by a crisp white tablecloth. On each table sat a tall vase of silky scarlet roses and one decorative candle identical to the one L was holding. The detective lit all three candles swiftly. Then his eyes raked the center table one more time, and his blood ran cold.
For on the table closest to the elevators, the one sitting between two others, there sat a wooden bowl that was not on the other tabletops. And in that bowl, light brown and etched with a pattern of leaves, there sat several bright red apples. L slowly approached the bowl, setting his candle aside in favor of picking up one of the apples. They were fresh, clearly no more than a day old, the firm red flesh of the fruit still bright and glossy. L's fingers skimmed over the apples in the bowl until he reached a small slip of white visible between the fruit. He tugged once, and a white card slipped forth. A singular white index card, with a singular black symbol printed in black ink on the front.
The letter L, in gothic font.
Kira knew he was coming.
The jar of jam he could have brushed off, but this? No…somehow Kira had figured it out. L dropped the card as if it were poisoned, hand returning to his candle. He controlled his breathing carefully, heading for the staircase leading to the rooms. The elevator would be down since the power was out, and L wouldn't trust it even if it were running. After all, it was clear that Kira had orchestrated all of this.
L could be heading to his death.
Maybe... maybe he should have left a note for the successors. Maybe he should have left them a location from which to retrieve his body. Better yet, maybe he should just turn around and flee this building before it was too late. But no—this was L's only chance to confront Kira alone. He didn't know that L had the bullet, and he didn't think that L would dare to shoot him. He was still at the advantage. He could still do this…right?
L maneuvered the candle to his other hand and began his long ascent to room 1313.
For all L's careful observation and deductive skills, his carefully trained eyes did not notice the red-eyed man who slipped past him in the darkness, his black hair and clothing perfectly melding into the shadows. The man, Beyond Birthday, paused just long enough to glare at L, a demented grin on his face, before turning and slinking towards the door to the outside.
†††
Matt's eyes fluttered open. For a heartbeat he laid there, green orbs focused on the ceiling. Then he groaned, raising a hand to rub at his eyes beneath the goggles, which felt far too heavy. In fact, everything felt too heavy… god, what was wrong with him? He was so damn sluggish…
He slowly pushed himself up to lean against whatever surface was behind him. It looked like a wall, he noted. The wall…of the investigation room? He'd fallen asleep in the investigation room? He frowned, clenching and unclenching his fingers rhythmically to shake the stiffness from his bones as he struggled to remember how he'd ended up where he was. His mind wasn't working the way it usually did, but even in his disoriented state he knew that something was wrong. Matt slowly turned his gaze downwards. He immediately felt both better and worse when he saw Mello sleeping beside him, his blonde hair spilled out over the ground, his whole form bathed in moonlight.
Wait… moonlight?
Matt shot to his feet, no longer groggy. He looked around wildly to confirm his suspicions—and it was just as he'd feared. His heart sank as he realized that both Mello and Near were collapsed a few feet from him, and both sported very visible puncture wounds in their necks. Raising a hand, Matt felt a similar wound adorning his own throat, and he immediately remembered. He remembered L's plan, the food he'd brought the successors after everyone else had left, the way that Mello and Near had suddenly felt dizzy and disorientated. And he remembered leaping to his feet when they collapsed, rushing to their sides only to be met with a painless prick of steel at his neck and a rush of fluid entering his veins. He'd been drugged. L had drugged him. He'd drugged all the successors. Matt reached down and shook Mello harshly, testing if he was ready to awaken. "Mells, wake up!"
The boy didn't even stir, and had Matt not been able to feel the rise and fall of his chest against him, he may have feared that he was dead. "Come on, Mello!" he tried again. When the blonde still didn't stir, he darted over to Near. The white-haired boy was lying flat on his stomach, stretched out over the ground. "Near? Near, can you hear me? Wake up! L is gone you idiot, you need to wake up!"
The first ranked successor didn't move, or even groan.
Matt rolled Near over onto his back and slapped his face lightly, then harder when he still received no response. Nothing.
Matt mulled over the day's events in his mind, trying to rationalize why he'd awoken sooner than his companions. He recalled how kind L had been to them that day. He'd brought Mello a chocolate bar from the kitchen, provided Near with a pastry, and prepared tea for Matt. But after finding out about L's stash of police gear and his crazy plan to go find Light, Matt hadn't been able to stomach anything due to his nervousness. He hadn't touched his tea. Mello and Near, on the other hand, had eagerly consumed L's offerings, seeing no reason not to.
So it had been a heavy does of sedative in the food, then. No… more likely L had hit them with light doses in the food, then more of the stuff once they were knocked out. That would explain why Matt was awake now—since he hadn't consumed the food, he'd only gotten a small dose when L injected him with the stuff.
But no matter what had happened, the result was the same. L was gone, and the successors were knocked out. And if Watari hadn't yet come in to sound the alarm, then he was almost certainly knocked out too. The task force had gone home, and even if he called them, they would be too late. L's blunder in administering the sedatives only bought Matt a few hours more of awareness than he would have had otherwise. A glance at the clock told him that it was around three in the morning. He had no idea when he had fallen asleep. L could be dead by now.
There was only one thing he could do. Matt pushed open the door and headed for the weapons room. Grabbed a gun. Then stormed off for the exit.
When Matt dashed out onto the streets, it was snowing. The ground was covered in fine powder that was still being spat from the sky, the light flakes dusting his hair white within seconds. The successors shook his head furiously, adjusting his goggles. It was dangerously cold, but he had his vest on, and as long as L was in danger, he didn't think he could feel the frost if he wanted to. L had not been here recently. There were no footsteps in the light coat of snow, and no people around at all. It was odd, the lack of people walking the streets. It wasn't that late.
Matt looked both ways, pondering where L could have run off to. There was really no way to tell without some of clue. The truth was, if L didn't want to be found, he wasn't going to be found. It was that simple. And if there wasn't going to be some sign from above, Matt was just going to have to pick a direction and start searching. He turned to the left and started to walk, then stopped suddenly.
The breeze pushed harshly at his front, increasing in strength when he attempted another step forward. Something was nagging at the back of his mind, urging him to turn around. And Matt, though never one to believe superstitious theories and gut feelings, turned around. Felt the wind push at his back. And then moved in the direction the wind pushed him.
He kept going for what felt like forever. In reality, it couldn't have been more than a few minutes—but the biting cold paired with the swell of nervousness in his stomach was more than enough to make time slow to a crawl. The snow was freezing, pelting him harder and harder with every step he took, as if the weather itself were against him. The shadows were long on the ground, dancing and flickering as show fell in front of the streetlights that conjured them. Go back, those shadows whispered. Leave now, that snow snarled. You are not welcome here. You are interfering with something that is not yours to interfere with. The voices of the world around him combined into a frightening howl, screaming in his ear, ordering him to turn tail and run back home—or perhaps that was just the howl of the wind, picking up around him painfully, driving him harder and harder in what could very easily have been the wrong direction.
But still, despite the warnings coming from all around him, Matt would not go back. He had to get to L, he had to get to Light. He cursed L for drugging them and acting before Matt was ready. He'd had a plan—and it had been a very good plan.
…Actually, no, it hadn't.
His plan had been foolish and stupid, and no better than L's. He'd planned to wait until L left, then follow him to Kira. After that, he intended to…well…what had he intended to do? He wasn't really sure, in all honesty. All he knew was that he could not, under any circumstances, allow the other successors to get to Kira first. They would kill him without question, and he couldn't allow that. And so in his haste to make sure L wasn't caught by Mello and Near, he'd failed to put together an adequate plan. All he knew was that he would be at L's side no matter what he chose to do, and that he would help him do whatever he wanted to do. It didn't matter what L did, Matt would be there for him. He owed him that, at least, for helping him save Mello from Beyond all those years ago. For that, Matt knew, he would follow L blindly into anything. That was his plan, he supposed—to do what L asked, no matter what it was, to pay him back for everything he'd done for him. Near and Mello seemed to have forgotten just how much L had helped them over the years, just how caring he'd been to them, just how hard he'd tried to keep them safe. They were so eager to give up, so eager to kill Kira without so much as an attempt at saving Light. But Matt wouldn't allow Light to die, not now. L had a plan…L would find a way to save Light! And Matt would help; he would do anything for L!
Of course, Matt thought, his shoes scraping through the gathering snow, that isn't the best mindset. L isn't exactly stable at the moment, so he might not even have a plan. I could easily be walking into a death trap, even now. There's no telling what will happen if I find L now. It could already be too late…but I have to try. L could be hurt somewhere, or he could still be fighting Kira. And if Beyond has already come back from England, then there's going to be trouble. I have no doubt that the two of them will gang up on L if they have the chance. That means that I have to get to them, now!
Matt continued his brisk march through the snow, heading down the street determinedly, when—
…Something caught his attention. Frowning, Matt drew to a halt and stared up at the building that had caught his attention. Something about it…it was different. The air around the building sung with tension, with the promise of hell to come. There was something terribly, horribly wrong with this place, and Matt could sense it in the air, in the way the hotel whispered to him. Stay away, it snarled. Don't come in here; you don't belong! Matt took a step towards the building and stared up at the huge letters adorning the front, squinting through the storm to see just what he was looking at.
The Teito Hotel.
Matt stood in the growing layer of snow, craning his neck to stare up at the top of the huge building. His feet were cold, he realized. He shuffled them uncomfortably as he stared at the hotel. He had an odd feeling about this place—and that was putting it lightly. Such a high quality hotel was normally bristling with customers, but now it seemed empty, desolate. Even at this time of night, some lights should be on. There should be a receptionist.
Matt adjusted his goggles slightly. His fingers twitched as he struggled to keep them still. He shuffled up to the door and tugged on the handle. It opened, much to his surprise, with a terrible screeching noise.
The wind had stopped pushing at his back.
Matt gathered his wits and stepped into the hotel. It was cold, but not as cold as it was outside. He shook his head, sending flakes of watery snow spraying out over the floor. The dark red carpet turned even darker as the water splattered it, matching the dim atmosphere inside the hotel. It was almost completely dark in the lobby, the only light coming from the moonlight spilling through the windows.
No, wait—that wasn't right. There, on the balcony above the reception desk—several candles flickered with dim light, casting ink-like shadows across the large room. Someone had been here, Matt realized, and recently. It shouldn't have been that surprising, seeing as this was the Teito Hotel, but…this place seemed completely deserted. No one was at the reception desk, and the whole place screamed foul play. Something had gone on here, something treacherous. Why else would this place be so deserted?
Matt hesitantly moved further into the lobby, eyeing the space around him nervously. There was every possibility that this was a trap. But then again, there was every possibility that he was in the wrong place. After all, this could just be a coincidence, and Kira could be somewhere else entirely. But he had a feeling, deep in the pit of his stomach, that this was the right place. And when he moved even further into the room, his suspicions were confirmed.
There…by the staircase…there was a jar of jam.
The contents had splattered out over the white marble and red carpet, but it was undeniably a container meant to hold jam. Strawberry jam. And that could only mean one thing—Beyond. Beyond…was he here? Or had Kira just planted this here as a distraction from something else, something greater?
One thing was for sure—Matt was in the right place.
He stepped forward with cautious, careful movements, inching across the room. He was well aware that here, in the open, he was a sitting duck. He had to get to the stairs, find cover.
Thunder suddenly roared from the outside world, making the whole building shake. Matt jumped involuntarily, hand shooting to his gun for just a heartbeat before he realized that his attacker was not an attacker at all, and was, in fact, a part of nature. He realized, though, that he hadn't seen the lightning that was supposed to come before the thunder. He frowned, some childish part of him making him look up at the windows in hopes to see a bolt of lightning. And then, suddenly, there it was. A bolt of lightning split the sky, sending a momentary burst of light flooding through the darkened atmosphere of the hotel.
It was just enough to illuminate a shadow of movement in Matt's peripheral vision, and this time when he jumped it was for good reason, because he knew that something was there. Someone was there.
A moment later, it happened again.
A moment after that, another flash of lightning ripped the sky apart—and this time, the flash of light was just enough for Matt to spot the shadow of something flying through the air. And that something just so happened to be aimed directly at his head.
Matt gasped as the thing flew towards him, throwing himself to the ground just as it whistled past just where his head wouldn't been a moment before. The object hit the ground at the foot of the stairs and shattered, sending glimmering fragments of glass across the ground. Matt rolled once, twice, to make sure there wasn't another projectile on its way, then lurched to his feet unsteadily. His head spun as he turned swiftly, trying to locate the source of what had been thrown at him. As he searched for his assailant, his eyes raked over the base of the stairs, where he spotted the fragments of what looked suspiciously like a jam jar. Matt's heart sank.
"Beyond?" he called out hesitantly.
A horrifyingly familiar laugh echoed around the room, and a heartbeat later, another jar swished past his head. It shattered on the corner of the desk. Clearly Beyond hadn't really been aiming for him that time, otherwise he would most likely already be passed out on the floor due to a harsh blow to the head. And now he knew it was Beyond, for it could only have been him that laughed in that cackling way as the jar was thrown.
"Show yourself!" Matt cried out, drawing his gun and leveling it in the direction the jar had come from. "Don't play your games with me, Beyond! It's your fault that this all happened!"
Another laugh. "Ah, yes!" came the unmistakable voice of the black-haired psychopath. "I suppose that it has been my fault, hasn't it? It's been quite entertaining to create this mess and watch you step in it."
Matt thought he heard footsteps, but the sound reverberated endlessly, making it impossible to figure out where Beyond was. "Why are you here?" Matt demanded. "You're supposed to be in England! And where is L?"
"You didn't really think that I'd stay in England when my lover needed me, did you?" he crowed. "The moment I heard Kira's plan, I caught the first flight back here and went running to his side. My little god missed me dearly, just as I missed him! Our reunion was so very passionate, fiery, intense—"
"Enough!" Matt snapped. "Tell me where L is!"
"By now I'm sure he's nearing the fourth floor on his way to room 1313, making his way right into Kira's arms!"
Something clattered to Matt's right. He whirled around immediately, the muzzle of his gun pointed towards the source of the sound. He slowly inched towards the stairs, well aware that he was being stalled intentionally. He had no doubt that Beyond was here to catch any backup that L might have brought, or anyone that might be following him. Matt fell smack in the middle of that second category, and he was acutely aware of it. "Doesn't that make you jealous?" he asked, attempting to divert Beyond's attention away from his slow ascent up the stairs. If he was fast enough, he could lure the murderer into the stairwell, and then he would have no way to dodge or deflect the bullets Matt planned to send his way. "What if Kira decides he likes L more than you?"
Something flew by Matt's ear and imbedded itself in the wooden railing behind him, sending a trickle of warm liquid dripping down the side of his face from a small slice in his ear. Beyond had graduated from throwing jars, if the knife sticking out of the wooden railing had anything to say about it.
"Stop trying to fool me!" Beyond snarled. "Stop trying to provoke me!"
Footsteps sounded very suddenly, right behind Matt, a short way up the staircase. He barely had time to turn before Beyond was slashing at him with the knife he'd just plucked from the wood of the staircase's railing. The blade whirred past him, then came slashing back inches from his neck. Matt immediately brought his gun up and aimed it point-blank at Beyond. The gun went off explosively, just as Beyond gripped his wrist and forced the shot up into the ceiling.
Oh, shit. Matt's arm snapped up to defend himself as Beyond, still tightly gripping his wrist, used his free hand to stab at him blindly. The blade struck Matt's raised forearm harshly. Blood spattered the ground in sickening amounts. Beyond slashed again, and this time Matt narrowly avoided the blow by twisting to one side and wrenching his wrist from the monster's grasp. He backpedaled down the stairs with his slashed arm held tightly to his chest. It wasn't too deep, but it could cause problems if it remained unbound—blood was already soaking the sleeve of his shirt, dripping wherever he moved like a scarlet breadcrumb trail. The successor raised his gaze to Beyond, looking away from his wound, and he saw him clearly for the first time.
Red eyes. Heartless, soulless red eyes. The too-large eyes of a shinigami staring at him from a mortal body. Beyond's gaze was cold and unforgiving, his clothing stained with scarlet from his past victims. His black shirt was even blacker in areas where Matt's blood had spattered onto it.
There were no words exchanged before Matt's next move. He raised his gun and fired, once, twice, three times. Beyond's immediate response was to drop to the ground and roll, which must have been painful on the steep staircase, but he didn't' show it. The muzzle of the gun followed him constantly, but the combination of Beyond's finesse and Matt's slashed arm made him an impossible target to hit.
"Hold still!" Matt hissed furiously, switching the safety on and flipping his gun around, charging at Beyond and using it as a club. He only had a few bullets left in the clip before he had to reload—no doubt that was when Beyond planned to attack him. Beyond's eyes glinted as he neared. Close-range combat was what Beyond specialized in, and Matt was giving him exactly what he wanted. The amber-haired successor just had to hope that he could beat Beyond at his own game.
Matt swung the hilt of his gun at Beyond's head; the murderer responded with a dodge and a slash at his throat. Matt whirled to one side and swept his leg at Beyond in an attempt to knock him down; the psychopath jumped over Matt's leg and delivered a solid punch to the left side of his face. Beyond didn't wait for Matt to make another move. He lunged forward when the successor was still reeling and swept his legs out from under him in a mockery of the move Matt had just attempted. The successor hit the ground with a gasp, rolling instinctively just before Beyond's knife imbedded itself in the red carpet where his head had been resting seconds prior. Matt was on his feet a heartbeat later, resuming the fight with a roar and a furious swing at Beyond's neck.
Beyond parried, Matt struck; Beyond struck, Matt parried. The two whirled and turned in their deadly dance, each giving and taking an equal amount of ground. Any onlooker would have cried at the beautiful sight of their battle, the way the black-haired man flowed back and forth between attack and defense, the way the brown-haired teen skirted the attacks on toes lighter than those of the most talented dancer. Two beings in deadly harmony, a bloody dance routine. Bruises appeared on snow-white skin. Red splattered the walls. Clothing was ripped, insults snapped back and forth, lives nearly lost.
And as the two carried out their theatrical performance, their violent routine on a blood-slicked stage, there was another confrontation taking place far, far above their heads.
†††
The door was open, and L was staring into the hotel room. He had half expected this room to be just as dark as the rest of the hotel, but it was surprisingly luminous. This particular hotel room, room 1313, had three rooms—a living room, a bedroom, and a bathroom. The living room connected to a short hallway leading to the door. Unfortunately, the hallway was set in such a way that you couldn't see into the living room until you reached the end of it and turned. There was no way for L to tell ahead of time who was waiting for him—though he suspected he already knew. His mind flickered back to the gothic L on the card resting aside the bowl of apples. Kira knew he was coming. But how? And where the hell was Rem?
L slowly walked down the short hall, the red carpet plush beneath his feet. The walls donned dull yellow wallpaper covered with tiny green leaves, connected to vines that twisted and turned in a pattern that reminded him of laurels. He passed one door to his left, which he assumed was the bathroom. Across from it, on his right, was a door that most likely led to the bedroom. L reached the end of the hallway. One more turn and he would see whoever was waiting for him. He would see Kira. He could already see the shadows cast by the furniture, could already hear someone shuffling slightly. L took a deep, deep breath. Closed his eyes. On second thought, reopened them. Then he took the last step forward, turned, and walked into the living room.
"Hello, Lawliet."
"Kira." L was momentarily pleased that he hadn't lost his cool. His eyes raked up the all-too-familiar form of Light Yagami. He was the same—he had the same golden skin, the same confident smirk, the same perfect clothing. But the eyes, the hair… they were wrong. Scarlet eyes, scarlet hair. Sickening. L's hand twitched towards the gun holstered at his belt. He had every intention of killing Kira now, tonight.
"I'm surprised that you're here," Kira remarked. He rose from the chair he'd been seated in. He was wearing a bright gold dress shirt that perfectly matched the tone of his skin, and tight black jeans. His shoes, though covered mostly by his pants, were rimmed in the same gold as his shirt. He looked like an angel.
No, L thought. He looks like a demon. A demon with red hair and eyes…
"You're not surprised," L growled. "You knew I was coming. Or was that notecard with my name on it just coincidental?"
Kira hummed ambiguously, one hand rising so he could study his nails. "Perhaps I was leaving a message just in case you somehow managed to track me down."
"No. That's foolish. And even if that was the case, you wouldn't have shut down this whole hotel just on the possibility that I found you."
"It wasn't that difficult. All I had to do was bust the water pipes and cut the power. The hotel staff sent everyone home due to unlivable conditions. Then, before the staff had a chance to call repairmen, I killed every single one of them. I fired off a few emails to their family members explaining that they'd been called in for some emergency overtime and would be sleeping at the hotel for a while. None of them were pleased, but no one filed any missing persons reports, so I figure it was good enough. They left the place all for me—not that they know it."
"So there's no one in this entire hotel besides the two of us?"
"Probably."
His eyes were shining. He was hiding something. "How did you know I was coming?" L asked.
He shrugged. "A little bird told me." He shifted his weight from foot to foot, and I realized how much he resembled Light for the first time, which was completely ridiculous seeing as they shared a body. "Or rather, a large bird. With the ability to speak. And a fierce love for a certain blonde model…"
"Rem." It wasn't a question. "She told you." Why? I thought we agreed that we were going to kill Kira, not help him! And even if she wasn't going to go along with me, why did she help him? She was so set on getting rid of Kira for Misa's good…why would she betray me?
Kira cackled. "You've forgotten, Lawliet… you've forgotten the whole reason that Rem agreed to help you—to protect Misa Amane."
Yes, and she knows that you're not good for Misa. She knows that if you remain alive, you'll only hurt her. What made her change her mind?
"You see, I've been rather concerned with Rem's recent behavior as of late, so I paid Misa a little visit to see what was going on. It didn't take me long to figure out that Rem had decided to assist you. After all, she doesn't like me much, and obviously she knows I'm not right for her precious Misa. Once I figured that out, it was a simple matter of reiterating the fact that Misa loves me, and how it would utterly break her if I were to die. It would break her to the point of taking her own life! And you're planning on killing me, after all, an action that will, in as many words, end in Misa's death. And after I explained that little concept to Rem, she was still reluctant to help me—and so I had the Shinigami King help me out."
L understood. Unfortunately, begrudgingly, L understood.
"Luckily for me, Rem's cooperation with me was a part of his so-called blueprint. He ordered Rem around a bit, and that was all it took for her to become just another pawn in our game of chess." The murderer in Light's body leaned back slightly, seemingly satisfied. "She told me that you were planning to come here, to end my life in a sneak attack. But none of that matters now. You are here, and she will not be helping you."
"Why did you let me get this far?" L demanded. "You could've killed me the instant I walked in the door, or captured me at the very least."
"Simple, Lawliet. I want to humiliate you. And I can't do that until I achieve my ultimate goal…" He was suddenly very close to the detective. His lips were practically brushing L's ear. "I won't kill you until I become a shinigami… but that doesn't mean that I can't beat you within an inch of your life."
You're not going to get that far. L's hand had been resting subtly on his holstered weapon throughout their conversation. Now he withdrew it as quietly as he could, tucking it behind his back and whispering back to Kira, "I'd like to see you try."
Kira chuckled darkly, one of his perfect hands coming up and tracing a line across L's throat. "I'm going to destroy you, Lawli," he murmured. "But not just yet. I didn't want you to come here tonight, but since you're here I might as well use this opportunity you have provided me with to make you hurt…" he trailed off, and L felt the monster's smile stretch even wider against his skin.
The gun was rising slowly to aim directly at the back of Kira's head. The safety was still on. The instant L dared to click it off, Kira would know that he was about to be shot. L would have to be fast. His finger hovered over the safety. One twitch of his finger, one, small movement, and…
And then, a low growl rumbling in his throat, Kira froze entirely. He leapt backwards suddenly, one hand shooting up and gripping L's wrist, forcing the muzzle of the gun to point harmlessly up into the ceiling. "Trying to kill me, L?" he spat furiously. "I never thought you'd actually attempt to end Light's life!"
L stared, frozen, up at Kira, where he seemed to tower over him. He reminded himself that Kira didn't know that the bullet would leave Light unharmed. From his position, it must really look like L was attempting to kill him. "I've come to my senses," L bluffed. "Your actions have made me realize that Light is gone, and nothing I do can possibly bring him back. So I intend to kill you here and now, before you have a chance to murder any more innocent people!" L twisted his wrist in Kira's grip, struggling to free himself.
Kira looked genuinely surprised. Then he grinned. "Ooh, he doesn't like that. Your little Light is feeling quite betrayed right now, I think."
It was a lie. Light had been begging L to kill him straight from the beginning. He would have no objections to being killed now, even if L really was planning to end his life. "I no longer care what Light thinks of my actions," L snarled through clenched teeth. "I will do what is best for him, as I should have done weeks ago!"
"I'd like to see you try," Kira growled back, mocking L's earlier words.
For a few long moments the two geniuses stood toe to toe, eye to eye, glaring at each other in an unbroken silence. Then, just as swiftly as it had begun, the silence ended and Kira swept his free hand up and punched L in the side of the face. The detective gasped, stunned, as his fingers went slack and the gun slipped from his hand. It clattered to the ground noisily. Kira stepped over the fallen weapon. Seeing as he didn't intend to kill L just yet, he seemingly had no use for it. Instead he resorted to using his fists, one hand darting out and gripping L by the collar while the other delivered another solid punch to the already-bruising left side of his face.
L's eyes located the fallen gun just before the blow made contact, and his head snapped to one side. Fight back! He told himself furiously, I have to get the gun and save Light! With that in mind he tore himself from Kira's grip and lashed out viciously with his foot, slamming his heel into Kira's stomach. The murderer huffed painfully, stumbling back for only a moment before he retaliated with a sloppy punch that L easily sidestepped. He thanked every deity in existence that he had been trained in various forms of martial arts. Kira threw himself at L once again, not waiting for L to regain his footing after the two vicious blows he'd sustained. The monster thrust his shoulder into L's midsection, slamming him against the wall. L coughed harshly, bringing his elbow down in between Kira's shoulder blades. The red-haired teen let out a pained gasp and drew back before L had a chance to do any more damage.
L took advantage of Kira's winded state to lunge forward and drive a knee up into his stomach while he was still hunched over. L's next strike sent Kira crashing to the ground, where his head collided with the edge of the coffee table sitting in between the couch and the wall. The detective winced as he heard Kira's skull slam into the wood, his pained cry echoing off the walls. But L didn't have to worry about the monster—he had to get the gun! While Kira pulled himself shakily to his feet, L made a mad dash for the gun and snatched it up, pointing it at Kira and keeping his finger ready to release the safety. He had to make sure that he hit Kira with this shot—he only had one chance.
Kira coughed and choked as he rose, the fall no doubt having knocked the breath from his lungs. He raised one hand to the back of his head, and it came away slick with blood. His eyes were slightly unfocused. L wondered for a moment if he'd overdone it. Though, he thought, for all Kira's boasting, he wasn't a very good fighter. Something about that statement made L's stomach twist with unease, but he didn't dwell on it.
"Don't move!" he snapped.
"Why?" Kira spat, one hand still clasped to the back of his head in an attempt to stop the bleeding. "You're just going to kill me anyways, right? So shoot, then!"
He doesn't believe me, L realized. Very well. That will make you easier to kill, Kira! L kept the gun trained on his adversary as he approached. The monster attempted to lash out, his fist finding L's chest, his shoulder, his face, anything he could reach. L caught every punch and deflected it with a flick of his wrist. Kira was being backed even further into a corner with every blow that L deflected. It wasn't long before his back was against the plaster, heels scraping the baseboards. He snarled at L through gleaming teeth, blood beginning to stain the back of his collar. L twisted his fingers in Kira's shirt, pressing him back firmly against the wall. He brought the gun up to press against his forehead. He released the safety. Then he took a look into the red eyes of the monster, and paused.
He wasn't afraid. He was leering at L, eyes narrowed but full of contempt rather than fear. His palms were pressed flat against the wall behind him. There was no sign of resistance, even with a loaded gun pointed at his head. L frowned. Something was wrong here.
"Are you not afraid to die?" L questioned.
Kira leaned forward, pressing against the barrel of the gun. "Do you have the nerve to shoot me?"
L's eyes narrowed. "If you're hedging your bets on my inability to kill Light, then you're in for quite a surprise, my friend.
Kira's smirked, and that feeling of unease swelled in L's chest. "I'm not afraid of you, Lawliet. If you want to shoot me, then fine—do your worst."
"I'll do it," L repeated himself, some terrible, deep-rooted feeling stopping him from pulling the trigger. He had a very, very bad feeling about this. "I'll shoot you."
"I know."
Kira leaned forward even further, and L inched backwards a bit in an attempt to evade him. It was ridiculous, he knew—he was the one with the gun, and Kira was the one pressed back up against the wall. But still, something was…wrong.
"You look nervous, L...do you want to know why I'm not cowering at your feet as you so desire?" Kira whispered, one hand slowly rising to brush along L's jaw, mimicking Light's gentle touch.
L shook his head minutely, riding himself of Kira's touch. He looked too much like Light, sounded too much like him, moved too much like him. L didn't know what he'd been expecting—it was Light, after all, just pushed back by Kira—but whatever he had been expecting, it wasn't this.
Kira went on, ignoring him. "I'll tell you why, Lawliet." He strained against the barrel of the gun, but made no attempt to move it away from him. He almost seemed excited to have a loaded gun trained on him, as if it made his plan a hundred times more thrilling. He bared his teeth in a savage, mocking snarl, and when he spoke, his voice was soft and melodious. "I know something you don't know," he whispered in a singsong tone. "I know something you wish you knew…"
"Be quiet!" L snapped, slamming Kira back firmly against the wall. "Not another word!"
"Oh, Lawliet, are you threatening me?" Kira purred, completely unthreatened. "Do you really think I'm scared of you?"
"I…" L trailed off, the nervous pit in his stomach growing. This was wrong—something was wrong!
Kira's hand wrapped around the barrel of the gun, and L was so shaken that he barely registered it until a moment later, when Kira, a rough laugh escaping his lips, yanked as hard as he could in an attempt to dislodge the weapon.
L immediately fought back, shaken from his haze by Kira's actions. One hand shot out faster than light, striking Kira harshly across the face. There was an audible crack, and blood dripped sickeningly from Kira's nose a moment later. It was almost certainly broken.
Kira let out a surprised gasp as he fell backwards, leaning against the wall, bracing himself against it with a bloodied hand. "You dare…" he snarled, though some of the anger was lost behind the thick tone of his voice as blood dripped from his nasal cavity. "You dare to make the god of the new world bleed?"
L had half a mind to point out that he'd already made Kira bleed plenty over the past few minutes, but before he could open his mouth, he was being forced to duck as Kira swept a fist out in retaliation. L darted to one side, hands shooting out and gripping Kira's arm as it whirled past him. The instant he had a firm grip, he slammed the teen's appendage down onto his knee, not hard enough to break it, but hard enough to cause some serious pain. Sure enough, Kira yelped, and a moment later he was cradling his injured arm to his chest.
"Bastard!" Kira snapped shortly, reverting to his favorite insult. He barely had time to catch his breath before L came at him again, using the butt of his pistol as a club as he lurched towards his enemy with surprising speed. Kira was unable to avoid a harsh blow to the shoulder, then another to the chest, and another to the shin. L had him cornered—he had no way out, and he was beginning to realize that fact.
L also seemed to realize it. As Kira hunched over, gasping for breath, he brought his elbow down on the teen's exposed back, sending him crashing to the ground. He flipped his gun over with the full intent of shooting Kira in the head—but a moment later the teen had latched onto his ankle with both hands, and was attempting to break it. He didn't get far before L kicked him away, wincing as Kira's head struck the wall brutally. The already-injured area pumped out more blood, dripping down the wall. Kira's hand shot to the back of his head, and once again, when he drew it away it was covered in blood. He reached up, attempting to find purchase on the wall, but his blood-slicked hand slipped and slid on the smooth surface. It took a long moment for him to haul himself to his feet, and by the time he did, he'd already lost a fair amount of blood. The stuff ran down the wall in streaks, dripped to the carpet in dangerous amounts. No doubt Kira was feeling lightheaded by this point, but he didn't show any sign of it. Quite the contrary—he grinned, teeth stained red, and laughed maniacally.
"Ooh, Lawli!" he purred. "You're so…vicious! I can see why Beyond wanted you so badly before he found me instead."
L winced, wishing not to be reminded of Kira's relationship with Beyond. "Stay down," he growled, fighting nervousness. He didn't want to use his shot until he was sure he wouldn't miss—and in order for that to happen, Kira had to be completely subdued. "Don't move."
Kira didn't move, just as instructed, but he continued laughing. He sounded horrifyingly like Beyond. "Oh, L," he gasped, struggling to catch his breath. "You make me laugh! You really think that you're going to win this!"
The murderer made to get up, but L was having none of it—he snarled furiously, lunging forward and tackling Kira to the ground. He grappled with the younger man for several moments, catching both wrists in one hand, pinning his legs down with his own. It wasn't long before Kira was spread out beneath him, completely pinned and unable to move. But oh, he tried. He thrashed helplessly beneath L, using all his strength to attempt to break away. But L had done his job well, and all of Kira's leverage had vanished out from underneath him. It was at this point that L expected the begging to start—or if not that, then perhaps a sign of distress, or any signal that he was nervous. But Kira remained cold and resolute beneath him, teeth bared viciously.
"L…" Kira smirked, straining up towards him. "So forward! If that's what you wanted, then you could have just told me—you didn't have to pin me down!"
The pure suggestion in that statement alone forced L's free hand to fly to his mouth to stem the surge of bile that was rising in his throat. For a long moment, he found himself unable to respond—but then, after a moment of choking back vomit, he managed, "I'm going to kill you."
Sill, there was no sign of fear. Instead, Kira just raised himself further. His eyes glittered dangerously in the dim light; his teeth shimmered with scarlet. "Are you afraid, L?" he snarled. "You've been threatening me this whole time, but are you really capable of shooting your precious Light in the head? You'd really kill him just to kill me? I don't think you can do it, little detective. I think you're bluffing."
"I'm not bluffing," L spat, and to prove it, he released the safety and pressed his gun to Kira's forehead for the second time that night. He wasn't sure what he was waiting for, but something...something deep within him, was stopping him from pulling that trigger.
Kira cocked his head to one side, shivering involuntarily as the cool metal of the gun slid across his flesh with the movement. "Do it," he challenged in a low growl.
"I will!" L responded, his finger tensing on the trigger.
"Then do it, Lawliet!" Kira screeched, his voice echoing around the room ominously. "Do it! Shoot me! End all your troubles, and end the mess you're just making worse and worse!"
L needed no further encouragement. That swell of nervousness was rising in his stomach, and he made every effort to swallow it down before he threw up. "I will do it," he whispered, more to himself than to Kira. But just the same, the murderer heard him, and his response was immediate.
"Will you?"
"Yes," he whispered, once again speaking more to himself than to the murderer beneath him. "Yes, Light, my love…I will." He made sure Kira was pressed firmly against the wall with no chance of escape, barely registering the pained gasp that fell from the murderer's lips, hardly seeing the flash of surprise flicker through those scarlet orbs.
Then, staring directly into the eyes of the monster, L tensed his entire body and pulled the trigger.
I wish I could say I was sorry for that cliffhanger, but…I'm not :) I just have to remind you all that this is not the climax of the story. That's still a ways off. Trust me, you'll know when the apex hits.
I hope you enjoyed this chapter, and pretty-please leave me a review if you did! Help dull the pain of the new school year!
And also...with all this shit going on, and with the school year just starting up, I hope you'll excuse me if I have to miss an update here or there. Don't panic; like I promised, the story is already finished, so there's really no danger of me not posting it all, but I don't want anyone to worry. I'll see you all on Saturday.