CHAPTER TWO
"New Look"

Soichiro Yagami was never one to midst words and he spoke his mind. He was dedicated to the cause and was resilient. "Are you sure about this, Light?"

The party had ended and only his father remained in his apartment. Mogi had to literally carry Matsuda in a fireman's shoulder carry out the door, because he was so drunk. Aizawa had left with them. They all had agreed Light's decision to infiltrate the Yukaza was best after a discussion and most likely the NPA director would agree to it. If it lead to concrete information on the identity of Kira, it was worth the chance Light would be taking.

But Light fretted he would have to learn some tactics to fit into the criminal world, act like a criminal (with some training), and it would take some time, but if he was successful, not only would he get the information he wanted, he would then penetrate the organization from within, gather names, and kill those hiding from Kira with the Death Note. It would become a search and destroy mission. He only carried a small scrap of the Death Note in the secret compartment he crafted in his watch his father gave him as a gift when he entered university, so he'd have to find more places he could stash scraps about himself.

"Yeah, Dad," Light said, "and it has to be done." Light felt adamant.

"My only regret is my hair," he continued, brushing a hand through his lush, brown hair. He wore it down and it covered his forehead. Matsuda once joked he had no forehead because no one ever saw it. "Call me vain in this respect, but I like my hair. I'll be like cutting off a limb. I know it'll grow back, but we can't stay the same forever. Do you agree?"

His father shrugged. "You're an adult now, Light. It's your decision. But I like your hair the way it is. It's very smart for a man of your stature and intelligence, astute like Bobby Fischer."

Bobby Fischer was a prominent grandmaster chess player in the 1950s and was world champion in the 1970s. Light knew of him and had studied many of his moves when he played chess with Demetre. Demetre was the only player he couldn't beat, always ending in a draw.
But to think that his father compared Light to such a prominent genius was welcoming.

Light smiled broadly. "Thanks, Dad," he said honoured. "That means lot. Unfortunately, it has to get cut. Maybe a little change is good for everyone once in a while."

His father mused momentarily. "If you're looking for a good stylist, I know of someone. Getting your hair cut at a regular barber shop is not the Yukaza way. From what I've seen, even their henchmen's hair is properly styled. The man I know is very good and works for the NPA, and he has many years of experience. All the women rave about him. Even I've been known to visit him from time to time, and still do—I went to him when I needed a trim after L kept you incarcerated for 50 days. He even told me to keep the grey in my hair because it made me look distinguished, despite the cause of it was stress. I'll take you to him tomorrow."

"Sounds good, Dad. Are you sure you don't need a ride home? I can call a cab."

"I didn't drink much, I only pretended. We've both learned from Grandpa's mistake."

Light nodded, reflective. "And it only takes one small mistake to make a big impact. I was young when he died, when he went out drinking one night with his off-duty police buddies—you told me. He crashed his car into a light post. You're not a big drinker, Dad, and maybe that lesson has been ingrained in me over the years. Neither one of us want to die like that."

Soichiro put a hand on Light's shoulder. "I'm so proud of you, Light. You've made me and your mother the happiest parents in the world."

Light had a pang of regret. If his father only knew that he was Kira, he wouldn't say that. But he had no regrets in what he was doing, Kira was changing the world for the better.

Play the thankful son, he told himself. "That means a lot, Dad. Trust me, we'll catch Kira, and if it can be arranged, I'd like to pull the switch at his execution." Okay, that was a little over the top.

"Japan doesn't execute people anymore, Light."

"It was a figure of speech. I meant, we'll take Kira down. It may take a little time, but Kira will be brought to justice, and then he'll be locked away for the rest of his natural life. No chance of parole. Ryuzaki wanted a private execution, but that just doesn't seem right. Kira has to suffer for what he's done."

"When we catch Kira, a private execution is still a possibility," Soichiro hinted. "But the Human Rights Commission would be all over it, demanding Kira be given a life sentence only."

Light nodded. "I understand," he said.

After their goodbyes and wishing his Dad a safe trip back home, Light shut the door and then leaned his back against it, sighing deeply. He put a finger into his shirt collar, popped off the first two top buttons and loosened his tie. "Finally that farce is over," he muttered. "I hate playing the good son. Now I can finally get back to Kira's judgements."

He had dream a couple of weeks back where Kira reigned supreme. He ruled over everything from a very tall citadel where he both lived and made his judgements. There was a special podium built in a private room with a sophisticated network of computers, so he could research and establish his targets, and kill them at his leisure. It was quite and imaginative dream.

One person's face he seen clearly in his dream—that of Kiyomi Takada, and she was standing at his side. She was his partner both in life and in Kira's Kingdom—his queen, just like in chess. She was but one of the few who would know he was Kira who obeyed him and saw Kira's judgments as righteous. Did he still have a crush on her? Whatever it was, he wished he could see her again and show her how much he missed her.

Also in his dream, Misa suddenly and mysteriously died from an illness, along with every member of the Kira Task Force, including his beloved father.

"Coming to bed, darling?" Misa asked, her head peaking out from the bedroom door seductively. Then she emerged fully, wearing a see-through, silk nightie that left nothing to the imagination. But she did nothing for him. Misa was a dullard and making love to an idiot like her was like humping a watermelon, she demeaned Kira's self worth. He deserved someone intelligent, someone who matched his wits and charm, a woman like Kiyomi Takada.

He followed her into the bedroom and did his duty.

The next morning, Light dressed in causal attire. Normally, he would wear a suit and tie, but he wasn't on duty, nor did the director of the NPA wish to see him. All he he was doing was going to police headquarters with his father for a haircut—a regrettable needed new look if he was going to infiltrate the Yukaza as one of their own.

However, despite not carrying a gun with him, his academy trainer always advised his students to carry two weapons at all time. Along with a gun, Light also took to carrying a small tactical, telescopic, flexible black baton, which when expanded, telescoped to two and half feet in length, and retracted to a comfortable, compacted size. He strapped it to his left inner thigh with velcro. It was not standard equipment, no one else knew about it. If needed, he could rip open his pant leg, and grab it. It was just added protection and a personal touch.

Light's father, despite quitting the NPA, and working solely on the Kira Case, was greeted by some of his old colleagues with open arms. Soichiro Yagami was reacquainted with some of his oldest friends and congratulations were had all around for Light in passing his police foundations courses with flying colours.

Light played the humble son to a proud father.

After that, his father took him to the man he spoke about late last night and introduced him to the stylist. He was a weird and flashy, younger looker man, who had a flamboyant personality, with pink mohawk-style hair, black at the sides, and lots of jewelry around his neck, wrists and fingers. He wore all black. It didn't need to be said that the man was of a certain persuasion, but it didn't seem to bother his father. Light, however, felt nervous. The man's name was Claude.

The place looked like your atypical barber shop with several chairs. Mirrors were on every wall and tools of the trade were on marble counters, combs in antiseptic solution, with blow driers fitted into slots under the counter. Several different types of scissors and combs sat on trays.

The man greeted his father with a broad smile and a friendly hug and welcomed him back. Obviously Claude knew his father quite well. No last name was given.

"Well, aren't you a handsome devil," Claude said to Light with a clutch of his chin.

"Um, thanks," Light replied. And was directed to sit in the middle barber chair. He sat with his back straight and he looked at himself in the mirror. He noticed he could use a shave.

Claude rolled over a trolley of prepared items and came to stand directly in front of Light. And he momentarily mused, as if sizing him up.

Light looked up at the man and blinked curious. He had never see anyone like him before, so bizarrely dressed with a crazy hair style. Strike that, there was one other person whom he had known who had a similar and bizarre personality (other than L), Ken Kuzushi*, an old grade school acquaintance. But the very thought of him gave Light a cold shiver down his spine.

(*Read: The Twisted Kuzushi Affair)

Claude leaned in, almost face-to-face, and stared intently at Light's brown hair as if examining it for flaws or style impersonations. For Light's liking, the man was too close. Claude leaned back and then turned Light's head from side to side. "Well, don't you have nice hair, cutie-pie," he said. Light flushed.

"Um, well, thank you?" Light said nervously.

"You never told me you had such a wonderfully handsome son, Soichiro?"

Soichiro Yagami smirked amused, almost turning to laugh.

"Don't be so uneasy, Detective Yagami," Claude said to Light, and smiled. "I call everyone cutie-pie, it helps lighten the mood. But, by appearances, I've only made you tense-up. Forgive my impudence." Light nodded, accepting his apology.

Claude went to the counter and washed his hands to start.

"I've done my homework on you, Detective, and you have an impressive record, top marks at the academy. You breezed through the exams like they were nothing." Claude looked back to Light. Light's eyes widened. "Once again, don't look so nervous. Your father called me last night and said you'd be coming in today, so I looked through your profile. I also like to know whose hair I'm cutting. In your personal data, it says you've had the same hair style since you were a child. Time for a change, huh?" He smiled. "I normally flip through a catalog for hair styles, but your cheekbones are too narrow to pull most of the styles off for undercover work. If you plan to go undercover, as your father has stated, you're going to have look genuine. Fake people can be seen a mile away."

Fake people, how odd that you would mention that to me, Light thought.

Claude returned to Light and fingered through his hair. The man's presence once again made Light feel uncomfortable. It wasn't the touch, he had his hair trimmed many times before, but it was the person. Call it prejudice, but the man's life style wasn't for Light. Of course, Light would have to get used it, sheltered as he had been studying all the time. In the profession. It was politically incorrect to reject people of his nature now. So, he bared it.

Claude pouted, his hand fingering through Light's hair as if it were wet strains of spaghetti. He messed it about, as if trying to work the 'bedhead look'. For some people the "messy look" worked for them while being stylish. While it worked momentarily, it didn't stay and just flopped down. "You have awfully straight hair, detective. What kind of shampoo do you use? I'm going to have to re-think my game plan. Most of the styles I had in mind won't suit you." The stylist cupped his chin, then circled Light, obviously thinking hard.

Just then, his father's cell rang. Soichiro answered it, leaving momentarily to take the call.

After a few moments, he gasped. The moment he ended the call, he said, "Sorry Light, the mission's been cancelled. They just found a body in an alley way not far from here stuffed carelessly in a dumpster. He had a cell on him and they're sifting through the directory now, but they did find a contact attributed to the KTF (Kira Task Force), and an anonymous call was placed to the number late last night around 8:35pm."

Light's eyes widened. My informant? KF4. "How did he die?"

Claude excused himself to leave them both alone. They waited until he was out of earshot.

"He was shot in the chest and then had his tongue cut out. It's symbolic for the Yukaza. Looks like someone had him marked. Someone must've known he was giving us information."

Light agreed, the Yukaza had been known to do this to 'rats' as they called them. "But the mission? It's important!" He wasn't too thrilled about it, and he was glad it was called off now.

"We'll have to find another way. It's too dangerous now."

Light swore under his breath, but in his mind, he breathed a sigh of relief. He was sure the information KF4 had relayed to him wasn't genuine anyway. The Yukaza had obviously labelled him as a 'rat' and this was their way of proving it. There was absolutely no way anyone knew of Kira's true identity within the organization anyhow.

At least I get to keep my hair, he thought with some relief.

They left headquarters and Soichiro drove back to Light's apartment, the de facto Kira Task Force headquarters. Light didn't have his driver's license yet or he would've driven himself, but he was taking lessons.

After a call by Light, the rest of the task force would later follow suit to the apartment.

When he arrived home, Light sat in his usual spot in front of the bank of computers that was his work station and thought while his father prepared a pot of coffee in the kitchen. Misa was at work, shooting some sort of perfume commercial. Something about KF4's death was very suspicious, but Light knew he would soon learn a motive after an NPA investigation. His father would get the results through his usual contacts.

As of late, Light couldn't do much in the way of being Kira with the task force always breathing down his neck. They were at the apartment nearly every day. They never gave him breathing room. So, he had to rely on Misa to be Kira in his absence, scouring the internet and media, using the Death Note to kill criminals. But it wasn't the same as doing it himself, and he missed it. At first, he had plenty of time to serve justice, but most recently, the task force members were hounding him in their unrelenting search for Kira information.

He was frustrated and a little stressed out. If he could, he would like to take a vacation. But then who would watch over the watchers, namely the task force, while he was gone? Maybe stress was playing a significant role in his relationship with Misa, too, and his sexual performance. He was having problems and Misa had to use other methods to relieve her own tensions.

When the rest of the Kira Task Force assembled, Light told them everything that he and his father had learned and that Light's infiltration mission had been called off.

"KF4 was found dead in a dumpster an hour ago and the NPA are currently investigating his death, but they're treating it as a normal homicide by gang related means," Light said. "KF4 appeared to be marked. They found him shot in the chest with his tongue cut out. It's a telltale signal to others that he was an informant, and it was probably a personal message to me, L."

"What do we do now?" Aizawa asked.

Light withheld a sneer. "Unfortunately, the only thing we can do—we wait for more information to pass our way. I'm afraid that's the limit of what we can do at this point."

To be continued...