Days had passed since we'd gained intel on Higuchi and, in that time, headquarters had become a hive full of busy bees. Plans had changed and evolved, the investigation accelerating at an unprecedented pace, due to mine and Misa's initiative (L called it interference, salty as he was). Previously, the detective had concocted a grand scheme to deduce who amongst the Yotsuba executives was most likely to be Kira, involving a lot of break-ins and illegal installations on Wedy's part. That idea had now been scrapped since we now had a verbal admission from Higuchi. Of course, anyone could simply say they were Kira, so his guilt wasn't explicitly proven just yet. But, if mine and Misa's plan went ahead as intended, then Higuchi would cease the killings entirely. As helpful as that would be, however, it also meant that we'd likely never find out just what he used to commit the murders unless he confessed. L didn't really like that approach.

His plan was to book a three hour slot on Demegawa's shady "Kira Special" on Sakura TV and trick Higuchi into thinking Matsuda would reveal Kira's identity live on air. Higuchi had Matsuda's false identity and would likely remember his face. If we could convince the Yotsuba executive that Matsuda posed a threat to him, then we could trick him into searching for Matsuda's true identity and therefore show us how he kills.

Following L's instruction, Wedy, the legend that she was, had placed cameras and wiretaps in his car to monitor him. On the same day, we called Namikawa - the executive whose innocence we'd already confirmed against other members of the group. He was the one who'd ensure Higuchi watched the show segment and essentially serve as a catalyst in the whole situation.

With all our ducks in a row, all that was left was to organise ourselves and, after a lengthy debriefing, we were ready to roll. We'd been separated into two major groups - one to ambush Higuchi in the Yoshida Productions building, and one to serve as a buffer at the Sakura TV station, just in case the first ambush failed. Light and L would remain at headquarters to oversee the whole operation and everyone's movements. Wedy would conduct a stake-out outside Higuchi's home. Chris, Soichioro, and Aiber made up the Sakura TV team. Matsuda, of course, would also be there to sit with the emcee and be 'interviewed'.

Having the strongest builds of the group and the most experience handling suspects, myself and Mogi were drafted onto the Yoshida team. An exchange of awkward smiles upon hearing that told me Mogi hadn't quite forgiven me for the panic I'd instilled in him when he thought he'd lost Misa. Poor guy had grey hairs because of that event.

Armed with small *USPs, we began our vigil inside the Yoshida office. When seven o'clock drew near, I kept my eyes pinned to my watch, counting down the minutes until, at last, Demegawa's segment began. From then on, it was just a waiting game - and god, was it a boring one. After ten or so minutes of contemplative silence and gentle foot tapping, Mogi decided the tiles on the opposite wall were no longer of interest, pinning his attention on me instead.

"Are you nervous?" he asked, voice containing no trace of condescension.

Humming, I debated the question for a moment but eventually shook my head.

"Not really. More anxious to see the case closed. You?"

"The same. Excited for it to all be over."

"It's been a good run, but it's gone on way too long," I offered with a sigh. "Personally, I am sick of hearing Kira's name being spoken on repeat like a broken record."

The man chuckled and laid his head back against the wall, craning his neck to look across at me.

"I've had nightmares about him, y'know," he confessed sheepishly, and I couldn't help but snort at the utter sincerity in his face.

"Jeez, really?"

"Really."

"I think we need to invoice Ryuzaki for all of our imminent hours in therapy. Maybe we can organise a group session."

The older man laughed, and we quieted down after that, reverting back to our independent pondering of the universe. The awkwardness having descended upon us again, I began fiddling with the holster on my hip, checking the safety of the pistol assigned to me. Mogi noted the fiddling and, presumably, interpreted that as nervousness.

"Are you any good with a gun?" he asked dubiously, and I shrugged.

"I'm a decent shot, but I wouldn't call myself a pro, by any means." I paused and forced a laugh to lighten the mood. "Honestly, I've not really had much experience with them unless I was the one on the receiving end of the barrel."

The man's brows shot up to his hairline, and he whistled a low tune.

"Wow. That sounds like a whole new can of worms."

"Don't get me started."

After a couple more minutes of mind-numbing silence, a shrill beep erupted from Mogi's pocket. Instantly, our bodies stiffened, knowing who was likely on the other line, and Mogi answered the call as pleasantly as he could muster.

"Ah, Mr Higuchi! So good to hear from you." There came a pause as Higuchi enquired, as expected, into Misa's whereabouts. "Misa is taking a much-needed break from the public right now. She will be returning to work tomorrow."

From where I stood, I could just about make out the sound of Higuchi's raised voice and sharp tone. Clearly, he was feeling the stress already - and we'd barely even applied the pressure yet!

"Well, that's private and she doesn't want anyone knowing," Mogi responded to the executive's incessant prodding. "I will let her know you called."

Another pause, and Mogi narrowed his eyes. Straining to listen, I heard the name Matsui Taro get used - Matsuda's alias - and I chuckled. This plan really was seamless. It was almost scary how well this was going so far.

"Pardon...? Ah, sorry, I wouldn't know. I only came in as a replacement. But please feel free to contact someone at the office. Oh, but everyone's gone to Okinawa for the evening. Maybe try our president?"

Presumably dissatisfied with Mogi's lack of information, and eager to contact the CEO instead, Higuchi was quick to wrap up the call.

"Glad I could be of—" Mogi cut himself off, pulling the phone away from his ear, the forced smile dropping too. "Yeah, he's gone."

"Nice job," I praised with a chuckle. "He'll be on his way over soon, I'm guessing."

Thankfully for us, we didn't have to wait long. Higuchi didn't live far from Yoshida Productions and chances were, he'd probably broken a few traffic laws to get here quickly.

Echoing up the stairs from the story below, we heard the sound of the main doors opening, and the sound of too-expensive shoes clopping against the floor tiles. I readied my pistol and held it close to my chest as Higuchi ascended the stairs to our floor. Tucked away behind shadowy corners, there wasn't any chance we'd have been seen unless Higuchi intentionally peeked through the doorway we hid behind. But, as hasty as he was to get Matsuda's 'true' name, he bypassed the doorway entirely, inputting the pin to enter the office opposite where we stood.

The footfalls grew quieter as Higuchi tread deeper into the office. Then came the unholy screech of metal upon metal as drawers were yanked open and rummaged through. On the cameras, L was watching, and outside, we were waiting for his command.

. . . Jesus, how long did it take to find one file? Did he want me to go in and help him?

Mercifully, after a moment or so, I could hear the rustling of papers. Clearly, Higuchi had found the file belonging to Matsuda's false persona and the other fake name we'd planted in there. A full minute had passed before I could hear Higuchi's footfalls growing louder as he approached our hiding spot once again. Much to my confusion though, the earpiece remained suspiciously silent, even as our suspect left the office, those too-expensive shoes echoing in the hallway as he charged back down towards the main foyer. Baffled, I cast a glance towards Mogi, who shared a similar countenance to my own.

"Ryuzaki?" I prompted with a whisper.

"Not yet."

Another beat of silence and we heard the muffled sound of the door swinging shut. Although my body physically relaxed, the expression on my face only grew tighter, bewildered as I was.

"Right, well, he's gone," I said into the mouthpiece. "Why the hold up?"

The receiver crackled as L sighed.

"We didn't get what we needed. All he did was make a note of the name."

"Should we follow him?" Mogi pushed, already turning his body to face the exit.

"Yes, but keep your distance. Remember who we are dealing with."

We didn't waste any time after getting our go ahead and instantly raced to the car. Having more experience with pursuits, Mogi was our designated driver. Looking behind me, I could just about make out Wedy's silhouette - she'd been following Higuchi since he left his home. Sitting atop a motorcycle, it was easier for her to keep up with our suspect, weaving in and out of traffic easily. I waved as she passed us by.

Further down the road, I saw a traffic cop switch on the lights of his bike, sirens blaring as he pulled out into our lane, quickly driving up to the rear of Higuchi's car. Non-surprisingly, given his crazy speed, the idiot was getting pulled over.

"Slow down," I warned Mogi. "Don't pull up right behind him. We don't want to be seen."

Our car rolled to a stop a couple hundred yards off from where Higuchi was being accosted. Wedy continued on, likely headed to regroup with the others, while we hung back. Although I couldn't hear the interaction between the two men up ahead, I assumed the patrol guy had asked for Higuchi's licence, holding out an expectant hand.

It was only about a minute before Higuchi was suddenly speeding off again, leaving behind a trail of smoke and a very stunned policeman. With impressive speed, Mogi started his car back up again, driving parallel to the cop who'd also given chase. I didn't pay much attention to the officer, eyes trying to track Higuchi's movements and predict his route. But then, suddenly, I noticed the bike begin to wobble, and the cop lost control, crashing into the back of a moving truck.

Accidental death? During this investigation, not a fucking chance.

"Shit, he's killed the cop!" shot out of my mouth as I spun in my seat, craning my neck to watch out of the rear window. "Ryuzaki, did you see that?!"

"I did," came the grave response. "Everyone, it is safe to presume that Higuchi can kill like the second Kira, requiring only a face. Please proceed with that in mind."

Swallowing a shaky sigh, I slouched back in my seat, trying to ignore the series of car horns and distant screams as other drivers tried helping the cop who'd collided with the truck.

Ignorant to the chaos he'd caused, Higuchi headed towards Shibuya, where his own company's office was located, probably trying to access footage from the night Matsuda had been caught snooping. Little did he know - though, he was soon to find out - Wedy had already wiped those files and replaced them with empty loops where Matsuda's face wasn't shown. As expected, no more than five minutes after entering, Higuchi barged out of Yotsuba's door with a face like thunder.

Mogi and I pursued him once again, the man tearing down the city's streets, this time headed downtown towards the Sakura TV station. In discussions between L and Demegawa, we had agreed that, come the second half of the segment, the building would be evacuated and all staff would go home for the night. The only people who remained in the building would be our guys - excluding Matsuda who, for his own safety, would be evacuated and replaced by a mannequin (along with the emcee) to give the impression the interview was still ongoing.

Pulling up alongside the building, parking a few car lengths away from Higuchi, I was grateful to see Demegawa and the other higher ups had actually listened to L and evacuated the premises. The reception area was totally abandoned, save for the businessman storming across the floor, black satchel in hand. Mogi and I gave him a head-start before following at a safe distance, guns drawn for our own protection. Following the signs pointing towards the recording studio, we ascended the stairwell as silently as we were able. Long before we even entered the room, I could hear a cacophony of angry voices, along with the unmistakable click of several guns being cocked. Rounding the corner, switching off the safety on my own pistol, I saw that, exactly as planned, Higuchi had been completely cornered.

Four guns pointed at his head, held by four trained gunmen. He had nowhere to go, and he realised his error pretty fucking quickly. But, kudos to him, he at least tried to bullshit his way out of this web he'd found himself tangled in.

"You must be making some kind of mistake!" the guy protested, voice coming out strained as he tried to laugh the whole situation off.

"Freeze! Don't move!" someone yelled, the sound muffled by the heavy helmets we'd be given.

The man's eyes flicked between each member of the group, sizing us up and trying to scope out the nearest escape route. Despite how adamantly he forced a smile onto his face, Higuchi was not very good at masking his true feelings - and he was pissed. Not only had we led him on the wildest of goose chases across Tokyo, we'd tricked him using goddamn mannequins of all things.

"I'm the Yotsuba Group's development director, here to speak with Demegawa. Let me hand you my card."

And there was the age old excuse. Oh, let me show you my licence, my card, my ID. It was always bullshit and, in this case, everyone smelled it.

As Higuchi dug through his bag, I tightened my grip, finger poised over the trigger. Maybe he'd whip out the murder weapon. It must have been small to fit into a bag like that - which wasn't truly what I'd been expecting, but what did size matter in this day and age?

Much to my horror, when Higuchi exposed what he held in his hand, I saw it wasn't anything like what I envisioned but, instead, a very real - and very loaded - revolver.

"He's armed—!"

Everything seemed to happen at once then, time progressing slowly, like an action scene in a movie. Higuchi spun and took aim at the nearest body. In the same breath, another lunged, taking the bullet in their front. I acknowledged there was a grunt of pain, and the same man went down.

Time seemed to revitalise itself then, with Higuchi wasting no time in fleeing the studio before any of us had time to process his movements. Shaking myself back into reality, I hounded him out the door, shooting twice at his retreating form, managing to miss by mere inches. The slippery bastard disappeared around the corner as I slammed my fist into the nearest wall, cussing and retreating back to the studio.

"Damn it! The fucking helmet makes it impossible to see," I seethed under my breath.

Looking towards our fallen soldier - who I now noted was Light's father - slumped with a hand on his bloody shoulder, I was quick to add: "Are you alright, Mr Yagami?"

The older man nodded gravely, face pulled into a tight grimace as he cupped his wounded shoulder. "I'm fine."

"Bullet's gone straight through," Wedy commented. "You'll live."

Another masked figure, who I could tell by his height was Chris, stepped away from the group, gesturing for us to follow.

"Guys, respectfully, if we don't follow him now, he's gone for good."

"He's right," I snapped. "Everyone to their cars - now!"

Wedy and Aiber shouldered Mr Yagami as the rest of us bounded down the stairs. It was a miracle we all made it to the ground floor in one piece and didn't tumble down like a row of bowling pins. Out in the open, we scattered and scrambled to get into our vehicles. Throwing myself back in with Mogi, I spotted Chris climbing into his Lexus, Aiber jumping in the passenger side; Wedy, I assumed, was driving with Mr Yagami.

Before I even had chance to secure my seatbelt, Mogi was going hot on the throttle. The tyres screeched as they spun through first gear, accelerating hard as we hounded Higuchi through the streets. With a shaky 'woah' leaving my lips, I gripped the side of the door and tried to stabilise my stomach as we coursed through traffic. High speed chases were never as exciting as they seemed in movies. Sure, the chases themselves were always thrilling, but it involved a lot of being thrown around the car, and way too much motion sickness.

It was hard to stay on the Higuchi's tail, especially with the way he swerved between lanes of traffic, somehow avoiding a crash. For all his flaws, I had to admit, the guy was a pretty confident driver.

"Crazy bastard!" Mogi said between gritted teeth. "What the hell is he thinking?"

Chances were: Higuchi wasn't thinking. He was in survivalist mode now - cornered prey, doing whatever it took to save his own tail. But he was getting too dangerous now. One innocent had already been killed; we couldn't allow anyone else to die because this moron let himself be led into a trap.

With heavy congestion beginning to build up on the road ahead, the Porsche swerved and took the entrance towards the highway, the three of us in hot pursuit. Somewhere, I acknowledged, a helicopter loomed in the sky above us. I heard it before I saw it, blades whirring loudly through the quiet of the nighttime. Given the lack of police decal, I assumed it was another one of our favourite multi-billionaire's shiny toys (since when could he fly a helicopter though?).

Fiddling with the gun in my lap, I watched as the gap between ourselves and our suspect increase with every second, and knew that, on a long straight like this, Higuchi could easily leave us in the dust. His car was ten times faster than any of ours, proven by how much distance he'd already created between us. Then again, a straight road like this made aiming much easier and was, thankfully, absent of any other road users. If I wanted a good shot, now was my best chance to get one.

"Mogi, can you get us any closer?" I asked, mentally sizing up the distance between us.

The man didn't seem enthusiastic but pushed his foot further towards the floor, fighting to keep up with Higuchi's insane speed. Rolling down the passenger side window, I stuck my head out and took aim. I wasn't confident by any means - the tinted visor on my helmet made the road appear darker than it was, too dark to see what lay ahead, and made it substantially harder to pinpoint the weak spots of Higuchi's car.

As dire as the situation was, I knew it was a risk, but I didn't want to waste any more time and enable Higuchi to kill himself or leave us all behind. So, in my typical reckless fashion, I tugged the helmet off and stuck my head back out, wind whipping my hair behind me. Beside me, Mogi's eyes widened and his hand latched onto my jacket, trying - and failing - to pull me back inside.

"Agent, are you mad?! If he sees your face, he'll kill you!"

He could try. I wanted a clear shot this time and I'd be damned if I missed again.

Ignoring the protests from the man driving beside me, I focused my aim, prayed to whatever god was listening, and fired a bullet straight through the rubber of Higuchi's front tyre. There was a pop and a squeal as the Porsche spun out, tyres screaming for purchase as Higuchi fought to control his vehicle. Somehow, he straightened up - seriously, get fucked - and pushed the car forward. It had slowed him down, but not enough.

Before I could bark another command at Mogi to speed up, I noticed a speck in the distance - a collection of flashing lights. I frowned and pulled myself back into the car, squinting as my eyes tried to make out what the spectacle was before us. Getting closer, the image became clearer, and I grinned wildly.

A cluster of cop cars, all with tinted windows, blocking all three lanes of the highway. I couldn't recall L saying he'd enlisted the help of the police, so it was safe to assume someone within the force had been watching events unfold and made the decision to organise a blockade themselves. And thank God they did - because now our suspect truly had nowhere else to go.

As that smug thought crossed my mind, the car in front spun to face our direction, only to come to a stop as floodlights from the helicopter pinned it in place. Between the deafening thrumming of my own heart and the distinctive sound of the chopper's spinning rotor, it was impossible to hear Higuchi apply force to his accelerator, and was too late to react by the time his car began to move, headed straight towards us.

Before any of us had time to cut off his path, a second bullet rained down from above us, popping one of the rear tyres. Unfortunately for Higuchi, the Porsche he drove was rear wheel drive, and therefore lost the ability to drive forward in a straight line. This time, there was another shrill screech as metal met road and the car spun into the guardrail before grinding to a violent halt. Mogi, too, slammed on the brakes to avoid a collision, the action jolting us forward towards the dash. With a concussion avoided, I felt safe enough to unbuckle my seatbelt and slump back against the seat.

Cops swarmed the vehicle and blocked him in before Higuchi even had a chance to raise his head off the steering wheel, guns raised and zeroing in on his ratty little face. Seemingly recalling the fact he also carried a gun, in one final desperate attempt to regain control, Higuchi thrust the barrel against his temple, face contorted in a crazed expression.

"Stay back!" he cried. "Don't come near me!"

Glancing at the wing mirror beside me, I could make out the masked form of Watari leaning out of the side of the chopper, sniper in hand. With frightening precision - especially for an older guy - a bullet went whizzing past and into the delicate skin of Higuchi's hand, causing him to yell out and drop his own weapon.

No longer having to fear being shot, the cops ordered Higuchi out of the car, which he did, albeit hesitantly. Within the next minute, the man was shoved down to his knees, cuffed, and blindfolded (could have been an erotic picture if it wasn't for the array of guns aimed at his skull). Exiting Mogi's car, I approached the kneeling man and crossed my arms. I still hadn't forgotten how predatory he'd been at that party. Even ignoring the fact he was Kira, this slimy little scumbag had it coming. I didn't feel bad whatsoever.

As per L's instructions, a headset was carefully placed over the top of Higuchi's blindfold, allowing the detective to hear and communicate with his suspect.

"Higuchi. You have been placed under arrest based on suspicion of being Kira," the man explained. "I'm sure you can understand how dire the situation is for you, so I'll give you a chance to answer honestly now, rather than in questioning - where I will use whatever means necessary to get you to talk."

Images of a restrained Misa and Watari carting in a selection of vile chemicals came to mind, and it reminded me just how merciless L could be if pushed. As nasty as our suspect was, that wasn't a fate I wished on anyone. This sorry bastard had better cough up the information he wanted to know; I wasn't planning on sitting through a repeat of what happened last time the detective imprisoned someone (and, ideally, I didn't want to fall out with the guy who'd informally become my employer a few days before).

"Tell me," L continued. "How is it you kill people?"

Lips trembling, Higuchi hesitated to answer, his head hanging low in shame. We all stood by, silent and eager to hear the answer to what we'd been chasing these long months past. The anticipation was agony, and my mind ran rife, trying to envision just what could possibly be the root of all these hundreds of mysterious murders.

"It's the notebook."

That... wasn't anything close to the answer I'd been expecting and, honestly, it caused me to physically deflate.

"Notebook?"

"In my bag a on the passenger seat," Higuchi replied, voice flat and defeated. "You may not believe me, but if I write down the name of a person whose face I know, they die."

Mhm, right, sure. The magic notebook killed people. Sounded legit - right up there with pixie dust and Father Christmas. Then again, L had mentioned something about Higuchi writing Matsuda's alias down back at the Yoshida building. It wouldn't really be too outlandish. Stranger things had happened during this investigation from Hell.

As we all eyeballed one another, exchanging variety of baffled and disbelieving looks, another crackle came through our headsets.

"Please may someone check inside the vehicle?"

Being the closest to the car, Mr Yagami opened the door and sat inside, rifling through Higuchi's bag and producing what looked like - as Higuchi had said - a regular black notebook. A bit underwhelming, in my opinion. Couldn't he have dressed it up a little? Make it look a bit more dark and evil?

"It's here, Ryuzaki," the Chief said, flicking through the pages of the book. "There's several pages with names on that I recognise but, other than that—"

A guttural yell spilled from Soichiro's lips as he suddenly leapt back, the book falling at his feet, forgotten. One of the masked officers stepped forward, cautiously extending a hand to the trembling man.

"Chief, are you—?"

"Monster!"

His eyes were pinned on the empty air in front of him, reaching for a gun he wasn't actually armed with. Everyone seemed to be just as confused as I, looking around, trying to find what it was Mr Yagami was so frightened of. This made no sense at all. Soichiro had survived fifty days in isolation and held a gun to his eldest's head, all the while keeping his sanity intact. What the hell had triggered this?

As the men gathered round their ex-Chief and tried to coax some sense out of him, I approached the little black book discarded on the ground.

It was totally unremarkable - just an everyday notebook that you could find in any store and might see a student or office worker carry. A slightly withered spine and crumpled pages told me its user had been very thorough with its usage (which, if it truly had been in the possession of Kira, didn't come as a surprise. If there was one thing I could admire about our murderer, it was his dedication to his calling).

Across the front, the words 'Death Note' were sprawled in thick, white letters. A little on the nose, in my opinion. Honestly, it looked like a crummy hoax or gag you might find on the edgier side of MySpace. But would a serious business guy like this really be kidding around in a situation as serious as this one? If the ICPO had reasonable belief that Higuchi committed these murders, then he'd be executed within the week. The risk didn't seem worth a cheap thrill or a laugh.

Dubious, I dragged the notebook towards me with my heel and crouched to pick it up. The moment my fingers brushed over its spine, my hand, the book, and the road around me were doused in a dark shadow. Looking up, I saw something that could only be described as, like Mr Yagami said, a monster.

The thing was inexplicably tall, bone-white, and absolutely hideous. Impossibly long legs hovered above the floor, attached to a wide rib cage and arms that weren't in proportion with the rest of its body. It was skeletal in appearance, its entire form consisting purely of ashy bone with no muscle or tissue anywhere to be seen. Eerily anthropomorphic, the creature almost had what I'd describe as a human face, but its anatomy didn't resemble a human in any way whatsoever. I would've said it looked like an overgrown Halloween decoration - strange and alien as it was - but that would be oversimplifying what was a very fucking scary creature.

In my peripheral, I could see the men peering down at me as I remained frozen in place, their voices muffled as they tried to get me to respond. But I couldn't talk. I didn't dare breathe. My mind was working at a million miles per hour, struggling to make sense of the creature looming over me, its feline-like yellow eyes staring right through me. And then it moved.

Shameful as it was, I sucked in a breath and screamed, the sound ringing loud and clear across the highway. My knees were the next thing to betray me, buckling under my weight as I tried to back away too quickly for my legs to keep up. Someone grabbed my shoulder, shaking me lightly as I knelt back on my haunches and stared at the monstrous thing, too petrified to even attempt to crawl away. It didn't take long for the nausea to kick in as my chest began to tighten, breaths growing erratic, body hurling itself into panic mode.

"What the fuck, what the fuck—?!"

"Agent, be calm," L's voice came through the earpiece, anchoring me to reality. "What do you see?"

Shaking my head, knowing he could see me, I tried to convey that I couldn't bring myself to speak. It was like all the oxygen had been sucked out of the air; everything felt close and suffocating. It didn't help that a hoard of masked men were surrounding me like vultures, probing for answers I couldn't vocalise. By the time I'd composed myself enough to string together a comprehensive thought, my skeletal hallucination made eye contact with me again and it brought the hysterics right back.

What did I see? Excellent question - and one I couldn't answer. How does someone define something they'd never seen before - something that shouldn't, by all rights, exist in our world?

"It's a... well, it's... Ryuzaki, I'm sorry, I don't even know what to tell you."

Unfurling my tightened fist, I suddenly acknowledged the mass in my palm and glanced down towards the notebook, only then realising how violently my hands were trembling.

"The book," I added quickly. "It appeared when I touched the book."

"Will you please bring the notebook over to the helicopter?" he asked after a pause, voice dropping an octave.

Putting on a brave face, I steeled my nerves and pushed myself to my feet. It kept its eyes pinned on me as I backed away - which was definitely triggering some sort of fight or flight response within me - and it took a lot of willpower to turn my back on it. Even then, I could feel its eyes burning into my back, watching me stalk towards the helicopter, sending chills along my spine.

L's face betrayed no feelings as I appeared at his side. His eyes, constantly scanning, evaluating, didn't even flick across in my direction. Beside him, Light appeared much more bewildered, brow furrowed into a tightly knitted frown as he observed the scene unfolding before him. Thrusting the book their way, I almost keeled over when L took it from me, like a very real weight had been lifted from my shoulders.

With our Kira suspect securely restrained and blindfolded, and his weapon far out of reach, I felt no reluctance in throwing my helmet off and heaving in sharp, deliberate breaths as the nausea slowly started to abate.

"Do you see it?" I asked through gritted teeth. L nodded, as grave as a tomb.

"Yes, I see it," he responded quietly, gaze absent of any notable emotion. "So this is a Shinigami."

Suddenly, the penny dropped, and everything came back to me in short flashes.

Aoyama and notebooks. Misa and Shinigami.

"Ryuzaki, we need to—"

My words were cut off by a piercing scream, the kind that shakes you right to your core. It was a primal howl, thick with fear, and loud enough to carry across the expanse of the highway. Startled, my head snapped towards the source - as did everyone else's - and I was partly stunned to see that it was Light sitting there, mouth agape, clutching the book with a concerningly tight, white-knuckled grip.

To witness Light, usually so calm and composed, absolutely pissing himself in fear, was unsettling to say the least. In his defence, I wouldn't say it was totally out of character to react like that upon seeing a floating death god (I'd also screamed like a banshee). But there was something in that scream that was more than just shock or horror - something of much greater magnitude. It almost sounded like he was in pain.

Before I could dwell on it too much, the noise ceased, the last of the sound dying on the wind, and Light's mouth fell shut. Then, the panic in his eyes settled, falling into a stony gaze of what appeared to be acceptance.

Although I couldn't specifically say why, something inside me began to scream 'DANGER' - like looking at a car wreck, gas spilling onto the road near an open flame. I felt that familiar pit in my stomach, coiling and twisting, and the more intuitive part of my brain regarded Light with a very genuine sense of dread.

Swallowing my unease, I leant into the helicopter. "You good, Light?"

It took the boy a moment to acknowledge I'd spoken, eyes still locked onto the horizon - staring, but not seeing. After a brief pause, he tightened the slack in his jaw, nodding, and turned to his right, fiddling with the laptop he'd brought along.

"Ryuzaki, I'm going to compare the names in this book with the names of our victims."

The detective and I shared a look. This was weird, even for us. The goddamn planets seemed to have aligned for this moment to occur. Things that previously made no sense now had perfect clarity, occupying the empty space in our broken equation. And, as for what had just transpired...

Although he seemed to be acting like his usual self again - hyperfocused and diligently working - the switch in a demeanour was too automated, too quick. Like this was a regular Tuesday occurrence for him. After a reaction like that, any normal person would need a breather - five minutes to process what was happening - or a total mental break. Light did neither. My gut was screaming at me that something was off... and also that I probably needed to throw up.

The way that L was side-eyeing him told me he shared similar suspicions, but both of us knew this wasn't the place to try and worm it out of him. We'd do what we usually do - bide our time, hide our cards, and (in L's case) formulate a stupid plan.

"Are you alright?" L asked me, voice softer than usual, though I couldn't tell if it was due to his affection for me or suspicion that Light may have been listening.

"Yeah," I murmured. "Just haven't had a scare like that in a long time."

"You should sit down," he countered, voice passive but eyes concerned, which I brushed off with a shake of my head.

No, this wasn't the time to lower my guard. There was too much going on and something felt wrong. I had to stay alert.

Warily, I risked another glance at Light, who seemed too engrossed in the book to be paying attention to me. Still, even with his gaze directed elsewhere and fingers typing rapidly, with the sort of person Light was, it was safe to assume he was listening to every breath that left my lungs.

So, I tried to communicate with something other than words, pinning my eyes on L's and holding his gaze through tight and narrow lids. The urgency that was rattling my bones didn't feel sufficiently relayed by this simple look alone. I wanted to grab this man and shake the life out of him, tell him to just look, damn it!

Part of me imagined this is how small kids or dogs felt - unable to communicate but knowing, and trying desperately to convey, that something was amiss.

The detective wasn't entirely ignorant to the distress in my gaze. I could tell. Although, outwardly, he was showing no sign of feeling anything at all, I knew it was a front. Months ago, I might have believed the apathetic act. Once upon a time, this man was an idol to me - untouchable, unshaken. Now, I knew better, and I knew that, underneath that passive exterior, L was feeling a wave of very real fear.

Out of nowhere, an abrupt commotion erupted across the highway, a flurry of voices fighting to be heard over the endless whirring of the helicopter's blades. I took a step forward, straining to see over the sea of heads, only to gasp as Higuchi tensed and groaned, body seizing before he collapsed on the concrete.

Instinctually, not fully understanding why, my eyes shot towards Light, who seemed equally as shocked at the chaos unravelling before him. The sincerity in his stare was jarring - it looked too practiced, too precise. Hadn't I thought something similar about him before?

Someone pressed at Higuchi's pulse points and, in the next second, dropped to their knees to administer CPR. But we all knew there was no point. None of Kira's victims had ever been successfully resuscitated - and that's exactly what was happening here. Somewhere, close by, Kira was watching, and the damn bastard had silenced Higuchi before we could get any more information from him.

You know full well who it is and where he was watching from, my mind chastised me.

But we'd been sitting beside him this whole time! Although my eyes had been planted on L, I'd made sure to keep Light in my peripheral. The only interaction he'd had with the book was touching and looking at it - and surely that wasn't enough to activate whatever weird voodoo magic was embedded in its pages, because I had done the exact same thing moments before.

As much as I didn't want to admit it, in this scenario, we were Light's alibi. He hadn't killed Higuchi - how could he have without either of us noticing? But, considering Light had our alleged murder weapon cradled in his hands, that only left one other reasonable explanation.

There was another book.


A/N

* USPs - a universal self-loading pistol, developed in Germany by Heckler and Koch; this type of gun was actually used in a scene of Death Note (thank you for your services, Internet Firearm Database).

Oh ma lawd, I promised this chapter to my WattPad readers days ago and tbh I've had it completed for quite a while. However, me and my partner both came down with flu symptoms on Monday night and it turns out we both caught COVID (it's our first time having it so we're struggling). Between the fever and the pain meds, I'm a bit woozy so please forgive any glaring grammatical/spelling errors. Thank you.

I will divulge that we're at the halfway point in the story now. Honestly don't know how so many of you have stuck with me so long - some even BEFORE the rewrite. You're all incredible people and I'm so grateful for your lovely comments and messages. I'm a very inconsistent author who struggles with writer's block a lot, so it's so heartwarming to see you guys stick around despite my poor writing schedule. Love you all so much 3