Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Taking over the world was easy, too easy.

Light knew that he was a certified genius. However, he has at least expected some hurdles on his journey of being the God of the New World.

No matter, this only proves that humanity as a species is rotten and mindless, it needs a God. He shall become the God of This World. Yes, just look at the number of worshipers he has gained, with Kira ruling the world, no more criminals will persist in their treacherous ways and the world would finally be perfect.

Two months after Light revealed himself to the world as Kira, he governed and controlled the world. The God of The New World gradually infected each computer in the world, he kept a record of each criminal, slaughtering every felon. Freedom was slowly taken from citizens around the world. As Kira appointed most of his most loyal followers to monitor and kill every non-Kira supporter that will and has cropped up.

“To destroy the seed of doubts before they grow.”

Concerning Light’s family, in Kira’s words, he hid them in ‘a safe place’.

The egomaniac would likely have been too busy to care for them, solely loving his family because he used to idolize them as this picture of ideal innocent people that deserve to be protected.

Luckily for the Yagami family, with L’s help, they faked their death.

Not that Kira knew they were not dead Kira did not know L existed until a rebel order rose.

A rebel order named ‘Task Force Kira’, that's led by L. They declared that Kira is nothing more than a childish killer who claims to be God, just the thought of those rebels made his blood boil.

Of course, he expected this coming he has been waiting for it. However, the ingenious, cunning, and crafty bastard, is a massive thorn against Kira’s side than he has originally anticipated. More and more populations in the world, who were afraid to speak up, were abruptly disappearing from the earth, all records of them deleted.

From all over the world, people who wore black caps and covered their faces with masks emerged. And he tried everything, time after time he has sent most of his most loyal pawns to lain and wait at the precise day, yet still, they could not apprehend a single person of L’s team.

Whenever they planned bombings on Kira’s temples, museums, statues whatever, they graffitied an L in the decimated spot two days before and after L would always send him tapes with that insufferable font type of his choice, and that intolerable voice modulator corrupted calm monotone voice. As if Kira is not an important opponent to aggravate L’s stress!

Well, he’ll show L.

Light was hoping to lead L out with a public gesture, one so big that will bring L out from the safety behind his supporting troops.

The God of the New World leaned back in his chair, he looked down upon the city through the large window he built in his headquarter, on his office desk table were covered with profiles and possible sightings of rebel bases.

Beside him Ryuk his Shinigami cackled, he looked from his shoulder the report of Mikami, the report of still not catching a single one of this rebel scum.

Light opened one of the built-in drawers from his office table, he took out the Death Note, putting it out on the desk. Light clasped his pen, tapping it on the parchment.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

The pen’s ink soaked into the Death Note’s enchanted parchment, like how L sank into Kira’s thoughts until all he could think about is his one-sided cat and mouse game with L. Light scowled, his copper iris shimmering crimson red sinisterly, his strong grip scarcely broke the pen he held in half.

‘Damn L. Damn him to hell.’ Unknown to Kira, his expression wore a remarkable resemblance to our favorite lovesick psycho successor, Beyond Birthday.

Ryuk observed Light’s increasing obsessive behavior towards L. The Shinigami couldn't hold back his chuckle. In the past few days, he saw Light went from unconcerned, to believing that L was a scum and would probably make a mistake soon, to a child throwing temper tantrums.

“What’s with that face, Light-o? You are made because you can't catch L? Seriously, though, you've been obsessing over this person for months.” Ryuk said, his amiable smile carved on his face. Ryuk needs to give it to Light, his life now is rather interesting thanks to this new L guy.

“I am not obsessed over L, Ryuk!” Light spat out, he slammed his hand on the table. “I just needed to find this person before they ruin my perfect world.”

“How do you plan on doing that? This L seems like some sort of genius, he may be even smarter than you, Light-o.” Ryuk teased. Kira’s hands tightened into fists, a wave of fury crashed through him, he let out a harsh breath.

Misa burst into his office without knocking, as usual.

If Rem never threatened his death by heart attack if he hurts Misa in any way. He probably would have gotten rid of her by now.

“Light!” Misa shouted, she wore a cheerful smile. The model’s earrings bounced, her black as a moonless night skirt that swiveled left and right. The blonde’s cloying devotion to him sickens him. However, when he stared at her ruby red eyes. Light was reminded of exactly why he still kept Misa alive and well, besides Rem being love-sickeningly in love.

In love. In love...

That's it! Light plastered his most charming smile. Misa swooned under his smile, a flush crept up her face. Kira snatched the engagement ring he would've used to pacify Misa later in the week.

“Misa!” Light pinched his tone to be more excited than he is.

“Yes, Light?” Misa fluttered her eyelashes flirtatiously. The God Of the New World swallowed the vomit that was creeping up his throat. He rose from his seat. Light stroll towards Misa, when he was barely a step away from Misa. He caressed her cheek, Misa leaned into her God’s hand, touch starved for the object of her devotion’s affection.

Kira stepped back, he got down to one knee. Misa gasped, she raised her hands to cover her mouth, she was bursting with joy.

“Misa Amane, will you do me the honor of marrying me?” Light faked a sincere tone that no one has ever seen through before, and it was not seen through now.

He held up the engagement ring which was a rose gold band up to display to Misa. Light’s neatly combed caramel hair covered his eyes, which he was rolling. He muffled the scoffing he was going to let out.

As if he will ever actually emotionally attach himself to someone who lets sentiments blinded them that easily.

“Of course! Oh, Light, I knew you would eventually love me.” Misa squealed bubbly, she bounced on her toes, she clapped her hands together. Misa’s heart leaped with joy as Light slipped the rose gold ring on her ring finger.

Light hid his mocking smirk.

In a gray-colored wall monitored filled room, sat an insomniac detective and an albino child.

A static noise, L, dialed at the channel switch. A raucous crackling chimed through the comlink. Its noise was caused near, the albino child who sat on the ground was surrounded with toys and puzzle pieces, he stared at a monitor that showcased an explosion of a marble statue of Kira surrounded by gates, its head exploding with blue fireworks.

The gates to the statue were pushed open, in came a young girl with toffee brown hair which is held in two ponytails, the hoodie sweatshirt she wore seems to be coated in a layer of dust. Linda was dragging a grinning Mello, the chocolate-obsessed child has taken his ink-black cap off. Mello raked his fingers through his blonde hair. Matt was following behind them, was playing a gaming console he always carried around on missions.

When Kira revealed himself to be Light Yagami the genius prodigy of Japan and began his reign of terror, L's first litigation was activating plan ‘BB’. Plan ‘BB’ was the plan to move the whole of Wammy’s House into hiding, it was originally made in the case if Beyond ever demonstrated interest in attacking Wammy’s.

Ever since then, the power of many annoyed genius children who were always in a communal space and L’s wish to protect the Wammy’s House kids that were beginning to grow on him. L has always known that he possesses a soft spot for children.

So they created ‘Taskforce Kira’ to take back control from Kira’s tyrannical rule. Using L’s underground resources, and his numerous contacts.

Near grimacing at the walkie-talkie, he massage his sensitive ears. He leaned towards the mic L held.

“C, you almost wrecked my eardrum,” Near said, cranking the volume key.

Near used the fake aliases they picked out for missions such as these where they must communicate on a device that can be easily hacked, despite Matt’s relatively impeccable skills with machines and technology.

Near wrapped a curl around his finger, toying with the lock of hair. The albino child looked heavenward, irritated, and slightly amused by Mello’s antics.

“Sorry, Cloud. Gamer and I were way too close to the blast. However, the good news is that. I am currently learning what Kira’s head exploding will look like.” Mello’s humor-filled voice came in through the radio. In the monitor, it showed Mello fist-bumping Matt. Mello, Matt, and Linda were all hiding behind the stairs to the gates of the temple.

“Sherlock, the mission is successful,” Near announced to L, who was drinking a sugar-filled coffee. The insomniac detective nodded, the corners of his mouth turned up.

“Yes, that's remarkable. Cloud, would you tell C it's nice how he packed fireworks in the bombs.”

Then he covered the walkie-talkie’s mic and whispered at Mello. “What Sherlock meant, is that it's nice that you made a show of the situation and did not get caught.” Near monotone.

Mello only snickered at Near, Linda who was beside him thrust her elbow into his abdomen. Causing Mello to lose his grip on the radio, as Linda caught it into her hand.

“Yeah Mello! You almost got us caught with that whole last-minute stunt you pulled.” Linda whispered over the radio, the ingenious artist of the group glared at Mello, indignities plastered in her face. Mello only huffed, whispering buzzkill behind her back.

“We’ll start heading back soon, we're stopping by a grocery store. Sherlock, do you want anything?” Linda implored the Greatest Detective, she and the rest of the Wammy kids knew it was an open secret that L has a sweet tooth so massive that it could match the detective’s intelligence level.

“If you could buy me some strawberry shortcake, that would be great.” L replied, “please hurry up, we still require time to review mission strategies on invading Kira’s wedding with Misa Amane.”

L understood that the wedding was Kira’s way of coaxing him out, from a good deal of footage of Kira’s public sightings. Not once has he ever shown any real romantic incantations he has for Miss Amane. Kira only ever seems annoyed by the blonde’s presence. Regardless, he was seizing the bait because if he does not at least confirm his existence as a person once. Kira will no doubt create a more dramatic way of uncovering his presence. Kira has a track record of killing his enemies and making a huge spectacle after he found out their names.

“Roger that.”

L sat at a first-class part of a plane heading to Paris, France. In which Kira’s wedding would be held, in the city of love.

L tucked a lock of hair from the chestnut hair wig he was wearing behind his ear, the detective crossed his legs. His eye bags are covered up by layers of concealer, his unusual endless obsidian orbs are concealed by amber contacts.

In short, the detective did not look like himself. Perhaps it's a good thing that he feels uncomfortable, if he dressed him as he normally would Kira would be able to point him out of a crowd of people immediately.

Nevertheless, he discerned that he would never get used to sitting normally. It has been proven time and time again it decreases his deductive abilities to sit down in a normal way, this is however a necessary evil.

L fiddled with the bracelet he was wearing that doubles as a communication unit for the plan, a hundred miles away Matt is probably waiting for his signal.

It is not like L hasn’t cross-dressed for cases before. He couldn't have Kira suspect him as L, so he used Kira’s subconscious or not rather a misogynistic tendency to his benefit. Although, Kira is extremely arrogant and believes everyone around him as pawns, proclaiming to be justice personified while manipulating everyone around him. Kira seems to manipulate his female supporters more personally than he does the males. For example, Misa Amane who he will marry for the sole purpose of luring an enemy out, ignoring Misa Amane’s actual love for him.

Kira used to wear the mask of the perfect Light Yagami, charming student extraordinaire. Light charmed his way up the social ladder, and that's how he managed to take over the world.

L would never have the charisma that oozed out of Light Yagami, the detective’s charisma is set in intelligence and illustrations of said intelligence.

When he used to work with Interpol before Kira’s reign. The Interpol only trusted him as long as he kept on puzzling out unsolvable cases for them. As he was nothing more or less than a tool for them. They would not support him unconditionally as Kira’s supporters would for theirs.

Kira’s worshippers' support for Kira is more parallel to the Wammy’s House kids as a younger sibling would an older brother. Wait, that's not right either. Perhaps, more comparable to his relationship with Watari?

No, no. Kira’s followers' relationship with Kira, if it could be called one. Is better suited to characterize as devotees to their God.

Which puts a whole ironic spin on the insomniac being an atheist.

Figuratively, Kira would be the kind of person that milks the people who unconditionally support or love him dry, then killing them when they are of no subsistence for him.

In other words? Kira is a manipulative bastard.

Not that L isn't the same, though, he has never used a person’s unconditional love towards him as manipulation ammunition, possibly it's because of his orphan uprising. However, using a person’s unconditional love for him against the said person is a line he does not plan on crossing.

L observed the window that showed a breathtaking view of Paris. The detective's eyelids drooped at the sites of the enormous Eiffel Tower, the corners of his mouth turned up into a barely noticeable smirk.

‘Home sweet home.’

After all, Paris was indeed the city where L originated from, and the detective knows each street and alleys inside and out.

Chapter Text

13th May 14:24.

“This is L, Kira. However, I am sure you know this by now. I have taken your bait and will show my face on camera at your farce of a wedding with Misa Amane. Make no mistake, this is not a show of submission or surrender. But a challenge to your claims to be a God. Try to find me, I dare you.”

‘This is L.’

Light drew in a long breath, his forehead creased. The video tape’s gothic font of L with a white backdrop imprinted under his eyelids. A permanent tattoo of his soul.

‘Try to find me, I dare you.’

Light squeezed his eyes shut, the monotone voice of L repeating and repeating in the back of his mind, put on by the message L sent him. L’s modified voice put his mind in an endless loop, corrupting him, dragging him under below into the seven rings of hell.

‘Try to find me, I dare you.’

“Light!” Misa’s high-pitched voice shattered Light’s already deteriorating composure.

They stood in the middle of a bakery, the scent of fresh-baked bread and unduly sugar roamed the air. They were here because they were going to select a wedding cake. Or at least they would be if Misa could make up her mind.

Misa Amane can be headache-inducing in a normal period, but adding in a wedding coming up? The model is enough to repeatedly break down all his defenses to keep him from breaking his mask of a perfect fiance. It would not be prudent for the public to see that their god is easily frustrated with the one he claims to love and will be marrying after all.

For the past few weeks, it has been ‘Light, do you think roses would be good for our wedding bouquet?’ or ‘Light! Do you think this dress looks stunning on me?’ So it's safe to say Light stands to be very irritated right now.

“What is it, Misa?” Light grit out, he forced a smile that Misa could see through. Misa had the decency to act chastised. Light clenched his fists, he jammed his hands in his front pockets, hiding the sign of his anger.

The truth is that Light would rather be doing anything else than entertaining Misa right now, i.e. setting up security and bugging the entire goddamn wedding site so that bastard L wouldn't escape from his grasp.

“Oh, Light. Misa’s sorry she's taking so long, Misa just wants to make our wedding day perfect.” The model apologized and mistakenly interpreted Light’s frustration as due to the fact of the lengthy wait instead of Misa herself.

“But that's not... Never mind, yeah Misa I get it. I'm excited about our wedding, that's all.” Light half lied. He was excited about Misa’s wedding but not for the reason the model thinks, he was merely excited for the chance to catch L. The chance to finally see his enemy’s face sent goosebumps through his body. Misa clapped her hands together, flashing one of her smiles that many would die to see. Misa didn't notice that Light’s eyes bored into the wall thinking about the gloats he would have when he captured L. L who taunted him so openly.

“Aw. Light, you're so sweet! Now, Light, what kind of wedding cake do you think we should have.” Misa implored, her rosy lips were curved up. However, she didn’t seem to be waiting for an answer, she kept on rambling on and on. Light had an unexpected lapse of insanity, for he wondered if L liked cake or not. Light rubbed his temples, he probably was overthinking too much since the L business began. Light’s ringtone rang out, Light frowned, his brows drew together.

“Hey Misa, would you mind if I take this phone call?” Light held up his cellphone so Misa could see it vibrate, Misa pouted, her arm crossed.

“Of course not, Light. It better not to be a girl though!” Misa’s crimson Shinigami eyes were glowing, a trait that happens whenever she is angered or jealous. The light turned his head in the other direction so Misa couldn't see him roll his eyes.

“Kira-same, the preparations are done, we followed your instructions to the exact point.” Mikami’s resonant voice filled his phone speaker.

15th May 10:25 a.m.

The wedding was not supposed to be the catalyst for the start of the revolution, it's more of an announcement to the world. For as much as Kira pretends to be a deity, L is 89% certain that Kira can not cover up this following incident by just controlling the media. Humans after all are sociable creatures, gossip and rumors can get far even without digital help.

“Mesdames et messieurs, Bienvenue à l'aéroport Paris Charles de Gaulle.  L'heure locale est 10h26 et la température est de 27 degrés.

Pour Votre sécurité et votre comfort, veuillez rester assis avec votre ceinture de sécurité bouclée jusqu'à ce que le capitaine éteigne le panneau Attachez la ceinture de sécurité.  Cela indiquera que nous nous sommes garés à la porte et que vous pouvez vous déplacer en toute sécurité.

Veuillez vérifier autour de votre siège pour tous les effets personnels que vous avez apportés à bord avec vous et soyez prudent lorsque vous ouvrez les compartiments à bagages, car des objets lourds peuvent avoir été déplacés pendant le vol.

Si vous avez besoin d'une assistance au débarquement, veuillez rester à votre place jusqu'à ce que tous les autres passagers aient débarqué.  Un membre de notre équipage se fera alors un plaisir de vous aider.

Au nom de Paris Charles de Gaulle Airlines et de l'ensemble de l'équipage, je vous remercie d'avoir participé à ce voyage et nous espérons vous revoir très prochainement à bord.  Bonne journée!"

(“Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to Paris Charles de Gaulle Airport. Local time is 10:26 a.m. and the temperature is 27 degrees.

For your safety and comfort, please remain seated with your seat belt fastened until the Captain turns off the Fasten Seat Belt sign. This will indicate that we have parked at the gate and that it is safe for you to move about.

Please check around your seat for any personal belongings you may have brought on board with you and please use caution when opening the overhead bins, as heavy articles may have shifted around during the flight.

If you require deplaning assistance, please remain in your seat until all other passengers have deplaned. One of our crew members will then be pleased to assist you.

On behalf of Paris Charles de Gaulle Airlines and the entire crew, I’d like to thank you for joining us on this trip and we are looking forward to seeing you onboard again shortly. Have a nice day!”)

The pilot’s cheerful voice rang through the plane’s mic, announcing the landing of the plane to Paris. L decided to go to Paris a day before the wedding of Miss Amane for many reasons, the official reason which he gave to his various successors was only the tip of the iceberg.

The official reason:

Misa Amane is rather intelligent in her own rights. Even though all her public persona conveys a beautiful model with no brains. This persona is used to conceal the threat that's hidden inside. L is familiar with the art of cultivating a mask to hide what beast is inside. Only he used bizarre behavior and Misa Amane used the public perception of her. Although Misa Amane is not a Wammy genius level of smarts, she is still dangerous not because of those crimson red eyes but for she will use how people underestimate her as a weapon.

Therefore, the detective will be going to Paris to make completely sure that the plan would not go wrong.

The unofficial reason?

He missed Paris, don't get him wrong. He is grateful for Watari taking him to Wammy’s House in England. Then later traveling the world with him, after he showed interest in solving International Cases. However, it does seem that the nostalgic air of his home state is permanently imprinted on his mind. One does not simply forget where they lived for their first 5 years of existence after all.

When finally he arrived at the hotel, he snatched a strawberry lollipop from the container at the reception desk. The sweet loving detective enters his hotel room. The walls were painted in pearl river gray,  the hotel room has a queen-sized bed with folded sangria red blankets.

The insomniac took off the torture devices normal people called shoes which he wore on his foot, he wiggled his toes letting the fresh air grace his foot, to relieve him of his cramps. L walked past the queen-sized bed, he dropped the suitcase he held onto the mattress.

After he took off the uncomfortable fabric, he changed into his usual white shirt and jeans. He climbed onto an armchair, he positioned the laptop on the coffee table.

The detective set up his computer system while he unwrapped the lollipop, he sucked on the saccharin sweet which melted on his tongue.

The monitor gradually proceeds to commence loading, once the screen displays the cameras Matt hacked into, the cameras of the designated area which Kira and Misa Amane a person with the ability to be able to know a person's name and lifespan by seeing said person’s face. Much like Beyond Birthday, that thought sent a pang in L’s chest.

That will be where the wedding would be set in, the detective clicked the space button to examine if the computer operating system is conducting to his satisfaction. L raised from his seat to make some tea, he started up the kettle for boiling water. That's when L’s private phone began to ring, he rested his hands on the counter.

“Yes, Mr. Yagami?”

L shifted from one foot to the other.

“L, I appreciate everything you have done for me and my family. Normally, I wouldn't have phoned but you left that meeting so fast and I just... Please be careful L. I know my son. God knows not as much as I would like. I mean what kind of dad wouldn't realize their son is a mass murderer. If it wasn't for you, I-”

Soichiro cleared his throat, L could feel the awkwardness palpable in the air.

“Just please be careful, L.” Soichiro pleaded. L scratched his right foot with his left, uncomfortable with the situation, the detective never was great at communicating with humans who were not children (his successor mostly) or Watari, much less saying comforting things.

“Do not worry, as long as there's no diversion from the plan, there is a 78% chance that everything will go fine.” L tried to comfort Mr. Yagami. It seemed to work since Soichiro muffled a chuckle, “Of course you would say that. Good luck, L.”

The line cut off, the kettle whistled. L poured the hot water into a teacup rested on a saucer with a teabag, L plucked ten sugar cubes to pop them into the liquid, the detective mixed the dissolved sugar with a golden spoon. L rested the teacup near the computer. L slouched, he slurped on the liquid that burnt sufficiently down his throat.

16th May 9:00 a.m.

The flaming sun hung over the sky, the sun’s heat blazing against the passerby in Paris.

Mello staked out on the balcony, a sniper rifle settled next to him. The sunlight was burning up against Mello’s skin, he could feel himself sweating up. The blonde felt a tap on his shoulder, a rarely seen smile without blood lust plastered on his face. Mello spun around to snatched the cool water bottle Near offered. The albino leaned forward to the edge of the balcony rails, his plastic water bottle held in his left hand.  Mello uncapped the heavenly cool water, his Adam’s apple bobbed down the liquid.

“Thanks.” Mello thanked his rival turned lover. Mello and Near have been dating for a month. L usually put them together as a team since they worked together so well. They were positioned to stake out on the balcony in a building that was near Kira's church, waiting for the signal that would come from Matt.

“Near?” Mello threaded a hand through his hair, he shut his eyes. Near raised his gaze from staring at the streets below to Mello.

“Yes, Mello?” Near inched forward.

“You ever reckon that L may be lonely?” Mello asked, he placed his arm on the balcony rail to support his body weight. He stared into the Carolina blue atmosphere with specks of cloud that reminded him of Near. A said person wrapped his white curl around his finger, his mirror eyes looked heavenward.

“While I confess that I never question myself about whether L is deprived of companionship or not. I would say yes.”

Mello was about to speak when Near cut him off.

“However, he was chosen to be as you say ‘lonely’ when he was born. It is not easy for someone like L to find suitable companionship because of his vast amounts of intelligence and due to his former standing in the world. We are fortunate to have found each other, Mello.” Near added, his eyes darted to hold Mello’s gaze. Near gave Mello a barely noticeable smile. Mello’s corners of his mouth lifted, he propped his chin on his hand staring at the enormous building opposite of where they stood.

“Yeah, I guess we are.”

16th May 10:30 a.m.

The constant sound of the keyboard from Matt’s computer filled the air. Matt took a cigarette out of it’s packet, he lit the cigarette with a sliver lighter. The gamer blew out the smoke that he inhaled. Matt ignored the beeping sound of the computer   

Matt’s head turned to the direction of a woman with shoulder-length blonde hair and a curvy figure. She wore sunglasses and bare-shouldered tops with long, black leather pants and a leather suit. The woman named Wedy who rested her chin on her palm perked up.

The blonde was waiting for the wedding Kira to start so she could infiltrate the security system which will no doubt be knocked up a couple of notches and more after the challenge L sent Kira. And that beeping sound of the computer was her cue to leave. Wedy rose from her seat, she put on a mask and a black cap. She tugged her blonde hair into a ponytail.

“Hey, you want one? Just in case.” Matt asked, the unsaid ‘just in case you fail.’ hung in the air.

The video game obsessed redhead shook the cigarette packet back and forth, like a final meal to a prisoner on death row to the blonde who stood next to him ready to go.

Wedy scoffed at the gesture, did the redhead underestimate her that much? Yet she still plucked one of the cigarettes from the box. She snatched the cigarette lighter to light the cigarette, she inhaled the smoke, her red lips exhaled white mist. Wedy sent Matt a grateful smile, they have a special kind of understanding since they've been so used to working together these past few months.

She grabbed her handbag that was on a couch, she rubbed her shoulder.

“Wish me luck.”

A resounding click of the door locked shut, sounded like damnation to Matt’s ears.

‘Let’s hope it doesn't come to that.’

For fates were never kind to those who rely on her luck.

Chapter Text

“Kira’s Love Triangle Resolved, Misa Amane Goddess of The New World.” Near who sat on the ground with inky black dominoes upright, each separated by a small distance placed in a circle, the circle surrounded the albino, reading the newspaper headline, blatantly. Obvious in his attempt to make the blond laugh. Mello scoffed, a bland chuckle rocked his body. He leaned the weight of his body onto the railings, his streaking turquoise blue eyes bored onto the ground below, he took a bite out of the bar of chocolate he held on his left hand.

When turquoise blue met grey, Mello and Near shared an amused gaze.

They were getting bored of just standing and waiting on the edge of the action, Near and Mello are, after all, geniuses, and like all geniuses, they craved stimulation for their brain. So, they decided–— rather Near decided to read the newspaper headlines from the nearby stores that sold them. It was always a great entertainment source, especially what a propaganda machine it was. Not that this kingdom of Kira does not have propaganda at every turn, from posters to advertisement broads and a TV show, but to put it. It's hilarious what those bloodsuckers, most people would call ‘the Press’, will do with vast amounts of the material being censored by Kira.

The albino child flipped to the next page, Near reading “Terrorist Attackers Forces Kira to Take Desperate Measures to Save the Coming Wedding.”

Mello’s ears perked up, he tapped on the stone surface of the rails, in a rhythm he made up on the spot. He stared at the silver wrapping of his bar of chocolate, which glimmered under the sun. The melting chocolate dripped onto his finger, the watery chocolate smeared his finger with the smell of syrupy sweetness.

Mello smirked devilishly, he scrutinized the lengthy line of people who stood outside the church of Kira, trying to enter the coming event, not knowing it's all just a ploy for their oh so incredibly righteous God to capture an enemy. The desperate measures were not to save the weddings because there was no real wedding in the first place.

The church of Kira, at least that's what Near would call it inside his mind because its real name is moderately ridiculous even for his unbreakable blank facade. Anyway, The Church Of Kira, it’s built with the mold of Gothic architecture, with the stained glass windows it entails. The stain glass windows usually depicted the divine power that Kira used to cleanse the world, or as he would borrow one of the lines in Mello’s usual Kira rant to describe them, ‘A bunch of illustration of cosmic bullshit!’ and ‘Kira stroking his ego through an artistic window that portrays him killing with a halo.’

The sunlight tainted by the color of the stained glass windows caused the light shone down onto the crowds below to be tainted with the colors of the stained glass window, giving the illusion that crowds were painted with the brush of an artist. Mello privately thought that Linda would have enjoyed the view.

“Ironic?” Mello asked the white-haired boy. Near, who did not need any indication of what Mello was referring to. Great minds think alike, after all, he observed. Mello propped his chin onto his palm.

“Definitely,” Near responded, he followed up the sentence by knocking over the dominoes he built around him stopping at two white dominoes Near recently placed down.

Teru Mikami, the right-hand man of the God of the New World, can not believe that he is standing under a ticket check for God’s wedding, for the reason as to help his God find a notorious rebel leader ‘L’ when should already be able to catch him and serve L’s head on a silver platter to his God is even more humiliating. He presumed God must be testing him or punishing him for his failure on the task of capturing the elusive L, but does God need to do this under what feels like a hundred degrees of boiling heat? He knew he shouldn't be complaining about a chance to repent for his sins, Teru after all is still human and he is prone to human errors. Not like his God.

God instructed to set up surveillance cameras around the area directly linked to a file that automatically backups all the footage of the people waiting at the line, his God set it up so that any citizen who wants to participate in his wedding and see God through their own eyes must have their names match their real ones, anyone who uses a fake alias will be executed on the spot. Or that's what the press says, in reality, if Teru manages to find someone who uses a fake alias and a rather male monotone voice, though he might be wrong since the rebel leader was using a voice scrambler. Would be seized in a confinement cell already built, and await judgment from God himself, Mikami was confused on why God would personally come to judge a sinner not worth the dirt under his boots, but who is he to question Kira’s or rather God’s motive?

Mikami nodded to another traveler to indicate they had passed. As they disappeared through the entrance, he stared at the ticket that was given to him in his hand. He scrutinized the name plastered onto the card, ‘Rue Ryuzaki’.

Mikami’s cedar brown eyes flickered upwards from the card to study the figure of a woman with snow-white skin, long chestnut brunette hair tied in a messy bun, and amber-colored eyes.

Mikami couldn't help to feel a sense of suspicion welling up in him, he doesn't know why but something about this woman kept him on edge. He blinked, activating the Shinigami eyes. At the exact moment of his eyes flickering up towards the name and lifespan of this ‘Rue Ryuzaki’. He heard the aftermath of a gunshot ringing around his ears, he unconsciously stumbled backward. Mikami’s whole body cramp up, his eyes instinctively closed, his foot felt like it's stuck to the floor like super glue has been applied on the bottom of his shoe. Forcing himself to move, he whirled around to gaze at the bullet that's embedded on the concrete wall, smoke still coming out of the bullet.

And like someone pressed the unpause button on everyone's reaction, a unison of piercing screams shrieked into his ears. People rushed, stomping on each other to get under a roof. Mikami pinched the bridge of his nose. Did these people have so little faith in God?

Mikami could feel a headache coming on, due to all the names he was seeing in front of him, the information overload was making his head hurt. He sighed and walked to the podium which held a mic. Mikami grabbed the mic.

In amongst the chaos, Mikami didn't realize that he was making a big mistake, if he had only just stayed put and not tried to calm the crowd since God would have fixed it sooner or later, or at least faster than he had anyways. He would've realized that the target he was finding, the whole mission that God had appointed him to finish, had successfully snuck into the church.

But unfortunately, the Shinigami eyes could not see the future and neither can Mikami. So, L’s first step of the plan succeeded even with Mikami’s meticulous attention to detail.

Light sat at the head seat of the limousine, his leg crossed. He tried to ignore the hordes of people that were outside of his limousine’s window as he sank deeper and deeper to a serene nap before he had to deal with L again. When Light received the call from Mikami to calm down a crowd in front of his church. He was, well, to put it in layman's terms disappointed. He knew that the person who shot the bullet was appointed by L, whose purpose is to cause chaos and not just some random assassin, and Mikami fell for it, just as he planned. Oh, he bet L thinks he's so damn smart right now.

As for the bullet that was unforeseen, he never expected L himself to be such an aggressive person, he always thought if L had to create a distraction. He would’ve probably used a smoke bomb...

Anyway, he got lucky that the incident was able to be kept quiet, and the press was not scrambling on top of each other to create a scandal, although the media knew what could and would befall them if they even think of ‘slandering’ Kira’s name. It still does not stop them from creating a love story that doesn't exist, like the whole love triangle thing with Takada and Misa. Just thinking back on that memory provoked headaches.

But even if it's a random assassin.

He firmly believed that people would’ve got more faith in their God to protect them from any common assassin, not that he expected any assassins that were gutsy enough to try to sabotage Kira’s wedding. Kira, who was a God simply without the immortality trait; Kira, who practically owned the whole world and could get what he wanted with a snap of his finger; Kira, who would get the heart of L served to him on a golden platter.

Damn it! He can't stop thinking about L, it's getting to the point where he had subconsciously branded L as one of his achievements. A traitorous part of his mind, that usually stored his doubts. Maybe what he's doing is wrong; Maybe this wasn't the way he should save the world. That part of his mind that normal people called a ‘conscience’, and maybe he should just listen to it, but that's why normal people aren't Gods and he is. That part of his mind kept on wanting to know more about his enemy, about L who is hell-bent on destroying the peaceful new world he has built, and normally that's fine: ‘Know thy enemy.’ as one would say. The problem is when his oh-so-important conscience kept on trying to convince him of the fact that this possibly could be his chance at a complete equal. The long-forgotten dream, no, fantasy. For he never believed it could be reality. The childhood fantasy of his, ever since his first experience of boredom, and when the Death Note came into his life he discarded the naive dream of his childhood self, cause what does God do with an equal but to only destroy them? And his equal deserves better than being destroyed by a heart attack, a stroke of his pen, treated only like a common criminal. No, his equal deserved better.

Then L came into his life, and these thoughts came running into his head again. But this time he has to destroy L because the stakes are too high. It's either L or a perfect world with no crime. And he has spent too much time, sacrificed too many lives to give this all up for someone whose face or name he doesn't even know.

The vehicle stopped, he got off of the limousine. And like he's Moses, the crowd parted for him like the red sea. He could physically feel everyone’s eyes on him, the worshipful gaze of his subjects, seared onto his skin, following his footsteps into the building. Light smirked, his eyes burned with arrogance, this is why he thought. This is why he cannot just give it all away for some guy on a white digital background with a gothic font-sized ‘L’ whose real voice he doesn't even know, though he could point out the patterns of L’s speech in less than a second.

Light stepped up to the podium, he took the microphone Mikami held out for him as he began his lecture that was a rip-off of those teachers used to give naughty elementary students. After he finished and everyone had suitably calmed down, he walked into the double doors that Mikami had already opened for him.

Mikami closed the double door of the building behind him, Light strolled to the direction of the ceremony hall for his dramatic entrance. Light never said he wasn't a sucker for dramatics after all.

And as he felt a feather brush behind his ear, while he pushed both of the double doors at the same time. Light dismissed it as the trick of the wind, which was uncharacteristic of him, he knew. However, he was just so hyped up with catching L that he didn't even notice.

The interior of the architecture is luxurious, with various types of art on the stained glass windows. Despite the outer surface of radiance, behind the facade of grace. There seems to be a lack of holiness underneath that usually any other church was embraced by.

There are a total of 10 rows of seats placed for the ceremony, each row has a purpose. Of this L is certain. Kira is a master of utilizing every last advantage of his. After all, and one should not underestimate him even though Kira is no older than 19, that's how you get killed by him.

The front row seats were for the leaders and higher-ups from all over the world who were personally invited by Kira. Although it's an open secret to anyone with half a brain that Kira only invited them to rub their faces into their defeat, after all, they are no more than glorified pawns to Kira while Kira is the chess master and he wanted to make sure that they know it. Kira is petty and childish sometimes, not that L isn't the same.

The eight rows of chairs in the middle are for the people who want the chance to see their ‘God’ in person, and which if L would directly quote from Mello in one of his rants that Near usually have to deal with, the eight rows of chairs in the middle were where the ‘Kira fanatics that can’t see past their social bubble, to see that Kira has practically butchered every countries’ culture that isn't Japan.’ He was also in that category of seats, at the edge of the column of chairs so he would have an escape if anything went wrong.

The last row is where the reporters would be sat, the less to say about them the better.

While L inspected the stained glass window with an apple in the picture, he started to wonder who actually picked out the window arts and if Kira in all his I am too busy bathing in being a God and all the glory it entails, ever really checked his stained glass windows.

The Morse Code of light flickered on the jewels of the bracelet. L’s mind translated the morse code Wedy sent him to the English language. ’I have completed the objective.’ L paused for a moment for the no-doubt dramatic entrance that Kira will make. And 3, 2, 1. The double door from the entrance hall swung open, while Kira strolled in on the red carpet like he owned the place, which he indeed did, the red carpet was lined up to a statue of himself holding an apple with two lit up silver candlesticks.

The stained glass window that was shaped like a circle which had the moon drawn on it, caused the sunlight to shine down on the statue’s head, to the outside eye it looked like a halo was hanging above Kira’s stone statue’s head producing the effect of angelic aura. L thought it looked more comparable that Kira was trying too hard to convince himself of his godliness. L tapped out the confirmation code to send back to Wedy, he rose from his seat. He has a Kira to distract, after all.

Chapter Text

The reason for Wedy's early arrival is since Kira in all his hindsight made the vent system of his most prized follower’s hotel room a huge maze. So to get through the vent system without getting lost, Matt had to hack into the blueprints; Wedy used the extra two hours to figure out the vent maze.

Wedy climbed through the vents, trying and succeeding in not making a sound. The thief arrived at the edge of the opening, she reached for the screwdriver taking out the screws from the vent opening, when all the screws were taken out. Before jumping down, Wedy replaced her simple black mask with a gas mask; She plunged to the ground below, landing down without a sound like a cat would. The thief upon noticing the back of the target quickly hid outside the viewpoint of the mirror which the target sat in front of.

Wedy observed the room she landed in. The room looked like a dressing room for an actress, a mirror with light bulbs as a frame, the target seemed to be touching up her makeup in front of the mirror.

Wedy pulled off the safety pin from one of the sleeping gas grenades that emits odourless sleeping gas that Linda made; Linda has a talent for creating chemical-type weapons.

She let the grenade roll-off using the force of gravity. The gas quickly spread out the room; from the corner of her eye she could see that the target was beginning to doze off, the target gradually fell face down on the vanity.

Wedy kicked the grenade with her combat boots, the grenade spiraled in a circular motion to the direction of an opened closet, she slammed the closet doors shut. Wedy then proceeded to carry the target out to the designated waiting spot where there would be a car waiting for her, she just needed to get through the vent system with the target’s body. Wedy hopes that L does not precisely require the target in one piece, because he is under some serious drugs if he thinks that she could honestly drag a grown unconscious female adult body out undamaged through an already cramped vent.

“It is so nice to know that Miss Takada does not have any hard feelings with Misa-same. Right, God?” The Prime Minister of The United Kingdom said. Light smiled and nodded, politics was just one of the things in his life that he must accept to succeed and, like everything else he accepted, he does it perfectly.

In truth, Light doesn't get what the media’s obsession with his love life is. (Or is it just that they like Takada?) But everyone around him seemed to unanimously agree to pat him on the back and say vaguely similar things. Even when the subject in question already retired back to the hotel room.

Therefore, he has to stand there patiently, in a tux, after the ceremony he may add. To wait for these idiots to get their fill of condoling him on his non-existent love triangle on being non-existent again. It's hilarious how these people noticed that Takada was one of his dates when he was back in To-Oh University, but not how he only dated her because he needed to cover his tracks because of the FBI. The only reason he used Takada as the spokesperson for Kira is that he has better things to worry about. And Takada was someone he knew who supported him at that time.

He also knew that Misa's sole reason for inviting Takada as her maid of honor was to taunt her on her ‘lost’, how childish.

“Yes, it's nice seeing them getting along.” Light replied, he felt identical to a person commenting on two children, rather than on him picking one love interest over another. The Prime Minister merely smiled that smiled all politicians used in awkward positions, then left his side like he was never there.

Light felt the itch of the white laced glove on his skin when Misa hooked her arm around him, and not the last time in this whole plan he couldn't help but be irritated with the situation. L better be worth it.

Light ground his jaw, his lips molded into a smile that reached his eyes, he let his eyes shifted to a certain degree to shine under the light, so it formulates the effect of adoring husband. Misa giggled like a schoolgirl, blushing bright red. Light doesn't get how Misa can be as weak as to let a smile of his, that she has seen multiple times already, hold so much control over her.

“Hey, Misa Amane and Kira-sama over here! Would you mind posing for a photo for the newest issue of City Scoop?” A paparazzo asked, he held a camera to the level of his eyes.

“Sure! But make sure to get the greatest angles of me and my Light together, though!” Misa agreed, she clenched his arm, and leaned her weight forward, posing for the camera. Light tenses, he placed his hand on Misa’s head, attempting to dismiss how apprehensive this predicament brings him.

After the flash of the camera, he put his arm out of Misa’s grip. Misa blinked at him.

Light pulled Misa behind one of the pillars of the church, he looked left and right, to make sure no one was watching. Light crossed his arms and glared at Misa. Misa realizing that Light wasn't going to pull her behind the stupid pillar to chastise her and not to make out with her, her bubbly smile dropped and her head lowered. Light pinched the bridge of his nose, he sighed. Not wanting Misa to tell Rem about how ‘Light is so handsome, but can he be a little more caring?’. The last time Misa ran into Rem, he had to spend a whole day making sure Rem didn't plan on using the Death Note to kill him. Light doesn't ever plan on doing that again, for as much as he loves a challenge, it doesn't matter that if he lost the challenge, the punishment for it is death. And really? He has a New World to be God in, he doesn't have the time to die.

“Listen, Misa.” Light softens his voice in a way that Misa always eats up. Misa’s light blue eyes soften, Light never liked the color blue. Light took a deep breath.“I am simply stressed, I have never imagined I'd be married to someone as beautiful as you are! And you touching me doesn't help with that.” Misa, hearing those words, immediately lights up like a lantern.

“You mean it, Light? Oh, I should have known you'd never actually push me away!” Misa clapped her hands together, pressed her lips against his, and he let her do it. When Misa stepped out of his bubble, he felt his phone vibrate in his pant’s pocket. Light pushed Misa away, he striding to a private place to take the unexpected phone call which saved him from the awkward situation. Misa pouted, her eyes bored holes in his pant pockets. She crossed her arms.

“Sure, Light! I'll just be standing here... Waiting for you.” Misa trailed off, she sighed. “Why does he always do this?”

Light walking towards the secret room which

contains the surveillance cameras control broadcast, he closed the door behind him as the door automatically locks, only able to be opened by his fingerprints.

Inside the locked room, a light bulb hung down from the ceiling, the room’s walls were painted grey, four monitors identical to what one would find on any computer’s monitor. On its screen are all the cameras placed in every possible blind spot shown, monitoring the movements of possible undercover rebels, and if Light was extremely lucky, he could find L.

Light pulled out his cell phone, he stared at the unknown number. Briefly debating with himself on whether to call back, he never said he doesn't get distracted by things that interest him after all, and a person who he doesn't know has his number? On one hand, it could just be a random teenager getting lucky enough to guess his phone number, but he highly doubts that. It could be one of Mikami’s security team members calling on a burner phone for an emergency, in that case, it would be irresponsible of him to not answer back now, wouldn't it?

So, he pushed the call back button, he pressed the phone against his ear. Only an inch apart, he could feel the warmth radiating from the device.

“Hello?” Light said. The muted background noise from the phone call’s audio indicated the person who called was with many people.

“You made me disappointed, Kira. I am inclined to think that you do not see me as a threat at all.” A monotonous voice came in through the audio, the voice pitch distorted by the voice scrambler. In short, it sounded like L’s videotapes voice.

“L?” Light scowled.

“My, my…. Not only did you not put your all in embarking on your promise to catch an enemy of the ‘kingdom’. Your implications tell me that you may be distracted by someone else?” L said in a tone that Light could not help to put it as familiar, yet he could not quite place. “I could very much be your downfall, you know.”

“Uh-huh. Tell me L what is this really about?” Light asked, knowing that his opponents wouldn't only call for, whatever this is.

“You are no fun, Kira. Could I not call to get to know you better?” L said, his monotone voice made it hard for Light to figure out if L was joking or not. A second of L waiting for Light’s answer. “I'll take that as a no. Well, I am bored. I thought evading your capture would be more of a challenge. So how about I give you a hint about where I am?”

“Is this all a game to you?” Light asked to keep up appearance.

“Check camera 6.” L said ignoring Light’s question.

Light followed the instructions, checking camera six. The monitor shows a mostly empty hallway with a black carpet floor and white walls that made the hallway brighter than it was supposed to be. Light recognizes the hallway as one where a key card is needed to access it.

That's why it's such a surprise when the camera shows the back of a head of messy raven hair that stuck out in all directions. Light blinked, he smirked in amusement. There’s no way that's L, it must be some random stand-in!

“How do I know you're L and not just some stand-in hired by L?”

Besides, it's too obvious to not be some sort of ruse, unless it's what L wants him to think.

“Oh, I supposed you would not know.” L said nonchalantly.

“What the hell does that mean?” Light frowned.

“It would not be very respectful of your intelligence for me to tell you everything, now, would it? Try using some of the brains. You are notorious for it after all.”

Light slammed the door behind him, the locked room power went out once more. He has to talk to Mikami and he has to talk to him in person now.

Chapter Text

Humans as a species are selfish, certainly, you could break out of the mold of having the nature of self-seeking benefits. However, take a look around many things we do for the reasons of seeking benefits. It is simply not within our nature to do things without reward. And L knows this.

That is why when Matt heard about L's plan of sending an anonymous tip to the media, he decided he must see this cluster fuck unfold; Matt loves the amount of chaos that would be released, he is a Wammy's kid after all, and Wammy's kids are notorious for their sadistic strike. You simply needed to point at the top two candidates of successors to L, Mello, and Near to perfectly see it. Ah, dearest Mello, his best friend's sadistic strike is shown in his love of guns and all things explosive; it's relatively obvious. Moreover, the Wammy House kids' sadistic strike is perfectly equivalent in Near. Wammy House's best and brightest.

When he met Near he thought that the kid can not hurt a fly and that's what Mello thought before he started dating Near. Make no mistake Near would do full-blown illegal shit to succeed. You may ask what's wrong with doing illegal shit to succeed, and you're correct in your assumptions that no one in Wammy’s care about the law; the law was made by the powerful to control people after all. The first lesson in Wammy House is that you must be prepared to do anything to catch your prey. But the problem with dearest Near is, even though he never wears his heart on his sleeves when he’s angered he would do anything to get back at you; and Matt means everything. The kid is the definition of a wolf in sheep's clothing.

Even L, Matt knew, L who has resided in Wammy's house for no more than 5 years; one can tell by the way L has the resemblance of an untwisted moral code to see that he has not stayed in Wammy's House for too long; L has a sadistic strike.

...

Where was he going with this?

Oh, yes the kidnapping of Kiyomi Takada, plus sending an anonymous tip to the media.

Well, let's just say to go from a 1-star enemy to one of the biggest things ever news broadcast and paper are talking about is no joke.

It's a hilarious comedy wrapped in a full soap opera.

It's been ten days since Kiyomi got herself kidnapped; nine days since the media found out. And ever since Light is facing his first mess he could not scheme his way out of, he has never felt such panic since the FBI incident.

A problem he cannot get rid of with the strokes of his pen.

Because he knew that no matter what he could still acquire the names of the FBI agents, it was not an impossible thing. The FBI agents’ name is in the record of the U.S. somewhere and he only needed to find them, like finding a treasure with an obscure map.

But with Task Force Kira, not only is he not certain that the name would be in the record, any member no matter how small a role they play and trust him he has gone through the footage that even shown a small incantation to have a rebel on-site and he does not have a way of finding out what L’s and his merry band of cohorts’ name is by the Shinigami eyes of Mikami without actually catching them instead of only capturing their figure on camera.

Finding L’s name is similar to trying to find a pin in a forest; when the forest is presently at the time of midnight and also happens to possess a floor that’s made of the other pins which you do not want.

But, that would not be the problem normally.

Believe it or not, L somehow found out about the Shinigami eyes or at least knew that Kira had the power to see other people's names.

However, that still does not explain how L knew Mikami owned the power, the only explanation is...

No that’s illogical, and Light is many things but illogical is not one trait that he will ever possess.

He booked a ticket straight back to Japan; leaving Misa with instructions on how she should deal with the press and how she should respond; he has found that in times of emergency that his headquarters' office has replaced his childhood room for a good place to think.

Light is debating on whether or not to kill Kiyomi and would he be able to threaten the press or control the press in the Death Note to make them fix the mess before they die, but more importantly, he has to find a new person to manage the press ASAP.

The media has been pressuring him to save Kiyomi, and if he decided to kill Kiyomi, there would be a big public uproar.

Of course, he could just kill all the people or reporters who have as well as will oppose him, and he is debating on that action. However, that might as well be saying to L and his Task Force of goddamn criminals that he isn't smart enough to plan his way out of this disarray L caused his perfect world to have.

He is the God of the New World, and the God of the New World does not submit to rebel scum. If L thinks that he could destroy his perfect world by kidnapping one person who controls the media? Fine! He'll just exert his control on the educational system.

"Mikami." Light said calmly, his previous thoughts not shown at all on his face. Mikami's head was hung down the whole time he had been in Kira's office, a perfect posture of submissiveness. But when he heard his name coming out of Light's lips, he stiffened and jolted upright at the emotionless expression of his Kami.

"Yes, Kami?" Mikami responded, he silently kicked himself, for even in his ears he sounded meek.

"Mikami, write me an essay about your professional opinion about changing the educational system?" Light asked, he has a lawyer on hand after all, and there is no way he is going in blind. Mikami's fingernails dag half-moons into his inner palm, he quickly releases his fingernails from his abused raw skin.

"What about Miss Takada, Kami?" Mikami asked.

"What about her?" Light asked, he glared at Mikami the last thing he needed was Mikami to bug him about saving her too.

A flush crept up Mikami’s face. "Nothing, Kami. Nothing at all, so uhh, I'll send you my essay afterward on Wednesday." Mikami left the room sensing that his god did not need him. And at that moment Ryuk phased through the wall and through Mikami who shivered without knowing why, since he could not see him given that he never touch Light’s Death Note, before; Ryuk did no more than laughed at the confusion of the Kira worshipper in that raspy voice of his. 

"So, Light-o I heard that something happened with a certain human of yours. How do you plan to get her back?" Ryuk asked as if he did not have enough people to ask him that question, and normally one minor kidnapping of a person he did not care about would not influence his emotional state at all.

"Thinking." Light stated as he ignored Ryuk's irritating laughter, he swore Ryuk's laugh would haunt any normal person's nightmare, but to Light? It only served to be the things that are slightly annoying to him.

Light was leaned back as far as he could on his chair; he grabbed one of the random darts in a miniature basket placed at the corner of the table, he threw the small dart in his hand to hit the target board, the strength Light used caused the dart to be embedded into the printed out L with the same font L used in his recording tapes. Ryuk, who was in the way of the dart, hurriedly dodged out of the way of the high-speed death ray.

"Hey, not that I care or anything but, are you okay, Light-o?" Ryuk asked, he had never really seen Light act so emotional before.

"I'm fine." Light said convincingly, but to Ryuk who's been by Light's side since the very beginning that Light started being Kira can tell Light was lying.

"You know I didn't plan to tell you this, but your moping is just plain boring. I did not drop the Death Note just to see you depressed. This wouldn't even cost you anything, though if you want to get an apple, I wouldn't object."

Light perked up, he then gradually frowned.

"I thought Shinigamis can't interfere in human business."

"Oh no, I'm not going to interfere with anything. Consider this like free exposition to move the plot along, or whatever you humans' call it. You have been so boring with all the God of the New World stuff you know-"

"Ryuk!"

"Right, right. So, Light-o, did you know that a human can be born with shinigami eyes?"

Drifting, she felt like she was floating in the air like she was one with the clouds up above. Abruptly Kiyomi felt a chain on her wrist, she was falling, falling, reminiscent of how Lucifer fell from heaven above, someone was yanking the chain, yanking her back down to consciousness.

She came back to the land of the living disorientated; a huge pain slammed on her head all at once; like someone has taken care to hit her head with a huge baseball bat repeatedly.

Kiyomi suddenly wanted to go back to the peaceful slumber she just had. She tried to open her eyes, yet her vision was filled with little black spots with a blinding, head-ache-inducing light being around them like little angelical halos.

Kiyomi shut her eyes, she did not appreciate the black spots still lingering after her eyelids shut. Kiyomi's head felt like it could split from the smallest amount of noise, comparable to what it would feel after drinking too much alcohol but that was impossible. Kiyomi has taken care of not drinking too many alcoholic drinks and to lose her inhibition; it would not be proper for a woman of her caliber to be seen in public drunk out of her mind. After all, what kind of reputation would that bring to her God? With her state of being everything around her suddenly felt boiling and icy cold at the same time. She tried to lift an arm but something had restrained it to her side.

What she assumed was a standard-sounding click of the light switch turning on; however, her ears did not get the memo and sent a wave of pain to her head, her eyebrows creased. Kiyomi so dearly wanted to tell whoever it was that was cleaning her room too, pardon her langage, to shut the fuck up. She was just about to say it was on her mind, I’ll be it in less crass terms, her tongue started to undergo the suffering of having a heavy metal rested on it. When Kiyomi's vision finally cleared, she saw that she was not in her room but a well-lit room as big as an average apartment, but there was no furniture except for the wooden dull-edged table that was far out of her range of touch. She looked down to see she was bound to a chair by lengths of thick rope, in that instant the reality of the situation fully hit her.

The feeling of danger her being kidnapped by the rebel forces Kira-Sama has warned her about, the bubbling shame that Kiyomi felt that she has gotten kidnapped because of how careless she was to not have the bodyguards Kira-sama has generously given her follow her 24/7 because she thought she could handle whoever would have the guts to kidnap Kira's spokeswomen, she thought that Kira-sama was undermining her skills and agreed with what some of the other news stations used to say about her completeness on her job due to her gender before she had the power to shut them down after Kira-Sama had official power over the world and while objectively she knew it was untrue those voices would sometime still silently haunt the back of her psychics.

Kiyomi should have just sucked it up and let those bodyguards follow her, if she had not thought about her pride instead of her safety the whole situation would not have happened.

While Kiyomi was busy chastising herself for the error of her judgment, she did not hear a click of a lock being unlocked plus the creaking of the door being pushed open, neither did she hear the footstep of sneakers hitting the floor. It was when she felt her short locks of hair which was uncomfortably stuck to her face by the sweat she produced by the panic being pushed away did she notice a figure which Kiyomi and person's height to 63 inches, and as the person stepped backward Kiyomi could make out the figure to be feminine, she could tell that this female must the be a rebel by the way their mask was the same type the rebels wore; a black facemask with a white voice-box stuck on to the bottom that altered their voice, a pair of black sunglasses and an ink-black cap; the cap tucked in the light caramel bangs with a ponytail sticking out from the hole on the back.

"I apologize for my colleague who brought you here with such injuries. The vent system was not exactly the best place to carry an unconscious body around, you see? If there's anything I could get you to make you more comfortable, you just need to ask." The rebel said without a trace of sarcasm and almost with sincerity? Kiyomi's forehead furrowed, was this their strategy? Trying to get her to let her guard down so when she get the chance to escape she would see it, well, she just wouldn't fall for it.

"Would you bring me anything if I ask?" By the time Kiyomi has come up with a response, the rebel has relocated to the table, the rebel humming in what Kiyomi assumes as confirmation. "What if I ask you to give me your name?" Kiyomi snide, after Kiyomi, said that the rebel reeled back from the paintbrush she was about to pick up as though burnt.

Just as Kiyomi was afraid that the rebel was about to punish her for her threat, she was sure that the rebel must be informed by her leader that what a name and face in Kira's hand would do, after all, she was prepare for something this rebel would do to her that would induce pain as the rebel started to turn around to face her, the rebel had a paintbrush, on one hand, the rebel's face hidden by the mask somehow made her more threatening to her but to her surprise, the rebel started to shake with laughter.

"You're a funny person to be around, Takada-san. I'm sure you need a name to put on my admittedly faceless face, unfortunately, due to the safety hazard it would cause to my person, you may call me ‘D'."

Kiyomi blinked, this kid can not be serious. What kind of alias is 'D'? It's not believable in the least, or is that just what 'D' wants her to think? No, it's better to ask for confirmation.

"Like the letter 'D'?"

"Uh-huh. So, Takada-san, tell me do you have any allergies that I should know about before we start?" Kiyomi frowned, not knowing if any answer she gave would change anything.

"Not that I know of," Kiyomi answered truthfully.

"Now, it would be great if you'd stay still. I promise you if you play nice, you'll be released in no time. Got it?" D's voice was steady throughout but in the end, her voice has gone deeper into a menacing pitch. Kiyomi flinched back from the dark menacing voice, but this felt more like what she imagined the rebel would be, disguising threats with promises.

For the next hour, Kiyomi tried her best to stay still as she felt the chilly paint dripping down her skin and to ignore the urge to flinch back from the touch of the rough brush. After it was over D ordered her to close her eyes not seeing any other choice Kiyomi squeezed her eyes shut then leaned her head back. With two flashes of light, Kiyomi opened her eyes to stare at D who shook two photo papers; D turned the doorknob and disappeared from the room.

Kiyomi thought D just left her like this with paint dried on her skin, and that she could only clean it off when she get released, by then the dried paint would've been stuck to her skin like a second coat However D came back with a bucket of water and a towel to clean the paint off of her skin, the towel which she would later relate as softer than she imagined it would be.

L threw another case file into the 'Done' pile, as he began to operate several computers at the same time with 10 windows opened at the same time. With the new world Kira made many criminals have gone into the underworld and instead of worrying those criminals would commit another crime, many secret agencies are focusing on finding those criminals before Kira catches wind of it. Kira is so in touch with his fantasy of the new world, like how a child clings to a fantasy world of their choosing and ignoring other facts that point to it not existing.

Here is how L comes in, L although would not use his original title L to solve these cases, he uses both his alias Coil and Deneuve to finish these cases for a certain amount of money that would go on funding the rebel project for him and his successors. Since the shut down of the Alpha Wammy House in Winchester England, Task Force Kira kind of turned into the lesson plan for L's successors. With L supervising to make sure that his successors would be mostly safe; at least safe enough for a bunch of adrenaline-seeking teenagers.

To be completely honest, as L doesn't often do. His successors' adrenaline-seeking tendencies remind him of BB for just a minor moment. L threw another file into the done bin; pondering on Beyond Birthday reminds him of that conversation they had after L retrieved Beyond from the asylum and erased all information of Beyond's name on any public or private file.

“L, did you know that some humans with red eyes can see others' names?" Beyond stated, without any emotion at all, his voice sounded monotone yet his face was twisted in a grotesque smile, his teeth glimmered under the darkroom like a predator, patches of bumpy scars marked his face making Beyond's face like a swirling map that has no destination. Beyond's crimson red eyes seem to glow sinisterly when the room's light bulb light hits it at a right angle. Beyond leaned forward closer to L, L did not blink or flinch away being used to BB's antics. Beyond slowly moved closer to the detective's ear, until L felt and heard every breath Beyond took and gave away. "It's called Shinigami eyes'."

Chapter Text

"God damn it, Matt, did you mess with the common room's fridge again? I told you if you want to find something to do your freaky hacking shit on you do it to other people's fridges. You melted all L’s ice cream.” Mello said shutting the top freezer's door shut with a bang signaling his passive anger. Matt pulled a face as he hit the finishing blow to the final boss in the console he was playing his game with, and as he was setting up his characters for the next round he replied to Mello’s accusation with a "What are you saying, Mells? You know I don't do that anymore.

"Don't fuck with me, Matt." Mello rolled his eyes, as he plugged the fridge to restart it, it began to shake and let out cold air. "Who else would do such extra shit as to mess with the electricity of the freezer without thinking about L’s ice cream stash? You know how L gets with his sweets.”

Matt shuddered at the mention of what L does to those who touch his sweets without his permission.

"Yeah, but here's the problem, Mells. I didn't do it." Matt said, Mello, frowned then pursed his lips. His expression went from what Matt recognized as his 'are you fucking kidding me' face to a seriously concerned face. "If it's not you, then who else would it be?"

"It was me; I got tired of you ranting about Kira," Linda said as she entered the common room through the open doorway. Linda’s hair was sticking out every which way, her eye bags could rival the ones from L's, her black sweatshirt was covered with paint stains; she opened the cabinet door and reached in to pull out a large jug with orange juice stored inside, the sleep-deprived artist chugged down the liquid like a depressed alcoholic would their liquor and if she noticed Mello and Matt’s ‘What in the hell happened to her gaze' she did not say anything. Mello was a little bit too confused with Linda's new sleep-deprived look to get angered at what she said because personality wised Linda was a ball of sunshine compared to any other kid in Wammy's. Not that it's any kind of accomplishment considering what kind of education Wammy House gave to all its wards in their early childhood.

But as Mello recovered from his surprise and opened his mouth to retort because Linda or not, seeing her as a sister or not, there was no way he was letting anyone insult his rants, not even Near does that!

“My rants’ are at a perfectly normal amount, are you defending Kira? Also, how would melting all L’s ice cream help anyways?”

“That’s because I know that L’s disappointed face is the only thing worse than you losing all chocolate-eating rights and since I’m not stupid enough to burn all your chocolate stash and cause the world to suffer a second unstoppable psychopathic serial killer, I’m going to force you to watch L’s face while I slowly watch you suffer.” After that Linda smiled sociopathically, Mello gasped.

“Why are you doing this?” Mello asked in a tone categorized as when the protagonist asks the antagonist why they do evil things.

“Don’t get me wrong I hate Kira, he's an asshole with an ego as big as Mount Olympus and the gods who reside within it. But you, Mello? You take that shit to a whole new level and frankly I'm tired of your rants. There's a time and place to do those rants and calling me when I'm in the middle of an invasion mission that you know L gave me since you were there at the meeting is not it!" Linda explained, she wiped the orange juice that dripped down her chin with the back of her hand.

Mello’s misunderstanding expression has finally gained some clarity, he winced he seriously forgot that Linda had an invasion mission which was weird because he never forgot anything as important as that before.

"I'm sorry?" Mello said unsure of what to do, he has never been in this kind of situation before.

"Yeah, you should be. Because of you, I had to destroy my whole can of limited edition spray paint with the perfect purple I could've used for my new art project and instead of using it to make aesthetically pleasing art. I had to spray it all into some random Kira supporter's eyes." Linda said, which explained why she was so angered. Linda has always loved her art and was a hardcore perfectionist. So if she was forced to give up something which would have made her new art project perfect because of Mello's weekly phone call rant which he gave anyone who has the pleasure to be called close to him, it was no wonder why Linda was so pissed.

Matt wanted to defuse the tension did the only thing he could think of in the situation.

"Did you guys know that pigs don't sweat?"

“What the fuck, Matt.”

The freezer door was gently shut; a light sigh came out of L's mouth. L's emotionless face slightly dropped, to show his disappointed gaze, Mello who was guiltily standing in the corner of the room, couldn't help but observe L's face; he always knew he had a masochistic side in him; Mello flinched back.

L nibbled on his thumb, he did not notice how he started biting on his thumb's fingernail in agitation, he cannot think as fast as he possibly can if he does not regulate his sugar intake, and that is to say, he must consume supplementary sugar from the human diet. However, only 20% of the sugary pastry he consumed was for his brain's activities, the other 80% is because he genuinely liked the taste of sugary sweets.

And this is why when L saw he not so secret ice cream stash became collateral damage to probably Wammy's kids’ prank wars, L just wished they could have melted his ice cream stash when he was desperately craving it. He could ask Watari to buy him some more ice cream but he remembered that Watari was on socializing duty to obtain allies for L; since he would rather not repeat that one incident with Naomi Misora; and would not be able to bring him the object of his craving for the next two days.

He could not ask anyone else to get him his ice cream because he rather not let anyone else risk being caught from his random craving, or worse tortured and killed. Kira has gotten more and more overzealous with trying to capture rebels causing any of them who finished a mission to come back straight to the base as a precaution. Though none of the Wammy's kids have been caught by any of Kira's glorified security guards, he feared that one day someone would slip and this whole thing would drop like a pile of cards. Wammy's kids although all can be identified as certified geniuses, they are all in their mid-teens or pre-teens. Unlike him, they have not been trained on how to deal with being tortured.

So that's that. He decided if he cannot let any of his subordinates risk themselves for the great sugary goodness that's called 'ice cream' he must do it himself.

Light never liked sugary pastries or anything with sugar in it. He could not stand the saccharine sweetness of sugar, it's simply stomach revolting. He also could not stand Misa Amane. Ever since they got married, Misa seems to have the opinion that she owned every moment of his free time. She was demanding and noisy, he felt like instead of getting a wife, he had gotten a child.

Combining two of the things he dearly despises together.

Light Yagami knew that hell doesn't exist, and even if it did exist he would not be able to go there because of the Death Note, but being on an ice cream parlor date with Misa is a close second to what he would call ‘Hell’.

Misa decided that 'her Light' hasn't been paying enough attention to her after the marriage ceremony, and that it wasn't very 'romantic' of him to have left Misa to deal with the 'big and scary' press, her words not his. Light personally thinks that Misa exaggerated more than a little bit.

Light's brain wandered off and took note of Misa's hand, her fingernails were painted gothic black, and her ring finger had the wedding ring she wore every day since the first day she got it. Light's gaze flickered to the marble table as his finger twitched for a pen and a Death Note to write on. Every second he was in this ice cream parlor was a second wasted.

The unduly used pink of the ice cream parlor made him feel incredibly apprehensive, and Light being force-fed extremely sweet strawberry ice cream by Misa Amane of all people made him want to jump out the nearby window. As another scoop of that syrupy dripping spawn from hell, Light dodged and the melting ice cream dripped onto his black dress shirt, its pink color contrasted with the coal-black of his shirt.

It turned out it was just what he needed to get out of this date without Misa's protector killing him because he would not comply with her every whim while looking as if he enjoyed it. Misa predictability gasped, "Oh! I'm so sorry, Light. Here." Misa pulled out a bunch of tissues from the tissue box that was on the table, and before she attempted to smear his dress shirt with the huge chunk of ice cream that was already destroying it. Light took hold of Misa's wrist and stopped her from doing it.

"It's fine. Misa. I'll just get to the man's room to fix this." And if achievable leave this place as soon as possible. Light thought but did not say. Misa's eyes glittered with more love which he didn't think was possible.

“Oh, Light. You're just so forgiving."

Light hates stains of any kind. His hatred of stains is as irrational as to hate the clouds in the air, but sometimes emotions are irrational and that is why he prefers not to feel anything.

He hates the ink stains that sometimes stuck to his fingers after a long period of writing names in the Death Note; he hates the bloodstains that the executions used to bring him in those days where he had to demonstrate his dominance over those who will choose to defy him; he especially hates how the rebels, how L, has left a stain in his perfect New World.

Light hates stains with the strength of a thousand suns, and would gladly eradicate its existence if only he could.

Light aggressively rubbed the stained area of the cloth together under the running water of the sink tap, he shut the running water tap with his prominent anger, he turned his head and tried to pull out some tissues only to find the tissue dispenser to be empty, he growled. Normally he would not have vocalized such revolting emotions through his vocal cords, but he felt it would not harm his reputation to growl with nobody around.

That’s when Light felt a tap on his shoulder.

A barely noticeable graze really, but at that moment Light was so wired up that he whirled around instantly with his infamous death glare. He was greeted with a pair of eyes  which was the endless whirl pool of obsidian with his expression mirrored in it, a man's which eye bags were so black and dark that it looks like he used eyeliner to draw two lines under his eyes; the hunched position of the man-made Light felt the pain of it as if he was standing like the man. The man's mess raven black hair was stuck up every which way, and somehow Light had the feeling that he saw the raven hair before. But having not a photographic memory to come with all the intelligence he held in his brain made it hard for him to tap into what he has deemed not beneficial knowledge.

The abnormal unshaded skin tone of the man-made it hard for Light to make out what ethnicity the man came from, but if Light had to make a guess it might be that the man is biracial and doesn't often come under the sunlight.

It took Light a few seconds to notice the box of tissues the man offered to him in his index finger and thumb.

Yet by the time Light noticed the thing he had been searching for, he shrugged off the unusual way the man held the box as just another way of how the man was odd and utterly bizarre.

The man stepped back, which was lucky for him because if he took one more step forward into Light's bubble he would have found the man's name and written it in the Death Note then and there. No one that looked this shady hasn't at least commit a crime or felony before the New World was constructed. Light's lips carved into an amicable smile with no trace of the murderous thought that was boiling up to the surface in his head.

"You're welcome." The man responded in a way that Light could tell was instinctual, the strangely calm voice of the stranger set Light immediately on edge. The way that Light was feeling, although not known to him yet at this hour, was how a predator would feel when they became prey.

But for now Light just merely brushed this feeling off as annoyance at a person, he was just with Misa after all, and Misa has a talent of setting him off in a murderous rage with the whole 'I have a Shinigami who is lovesick for me and therefore you would not be able to kill me even if I fuck up your plans, repeatedly.' thing.

Light dabbed the tissue onto the stained part of his already ruined shirt which made no sense why he would continue to try and salvage it, but damn it he is the God of The New World, and if he would like to salvage a ruined shirt for no relevant reason with a creepy guy on the background. Then, he would damn well do that and no one, not even his logical thinking side who held most of his genius brain cells could stop him.

"Ice cream stains are a pain, aren't they?"

Light's eyes moved from his task to focus on the reflection of the stranger in the mirror, whose facial expression showed no sign of the previous words that were spoken by its mysterious owner. If Light had not heard those words so clearly in the unoccupied public bathroom, except for him and the stranger, of course, he would have mistaken those words as the phantom thoughts of his own mind's conceptions.

"Not as much of a pain as the rebel infestation that has been cropping up like weeds lately though. Isn't that right, Kira-kun?" The man said in such a casual way that it took Light a second more from his usual brain reaction to register what the man said.

Light's whole body finally stiffened taking notice of the words and what it implies, And even then his brain processed the sentence in his head over and over again that he failed to take notes of the insult the man implied a moment ago from the honorific he attached to Light's Godly name. Light has taken a painfully extended process to cover up the increasing amount of rebel attacks that L ordered from the media's 'incredible' nature of twisting stories to suit their ends and not his.

The increasing amount of annoyance to use as a distraction for him not to find where Takada is abducted to before the rebel leader wanted him to, this masterful play of power made Light's heartburn with either vindication or desire. Regardless of what he felt, the emotion propelled his blood to boil with the essential requirement for L's capture.

L resembled a phantom. Light doesn't know L's name or face, or even if L is only one person. The rebel leader was as elusive to him as a mirage. So there prevailed in limited feasible paths for the man to know such privy information and all of those paths spelled 'trouble' for Kira.

Light attempted to reach into his pocket to send out a distress signal from his phone but he found his phone to be missing. He gaped at the previous missing phone the man held in his hands, realizing why the stranger had stood so close to him, the man’s breath had been scarcely inches away from his face.

Light narrowed his eyes. "How did you know information like that, the last time I checked the media did not give out classified information like candy?" Light said amusedly concealing the shrewd menace that if the man does not respond with an explanation, he would retaliate with full force. The ominous tone was difficult to locate and would only strike when the listener comprehends too late.

But much to Light’s astonishment, the man did not even blink nor indicated in any expression in the slightest, in fact, the strange eyes the man held in his power inflicted Light's mirror image to be echoed back at him, like a puddle of liquid under the murky sky.

"Why are you so tense, Kira-Kun? I can assure you I come in peace."

Light's attitude still has not changed by the empty reassurance. Light, by now has constructed more than a million theories, he meticulously picked out the conceivable and the probable. The answer his mind gave him was neither what he wanted nor what he needed to hear.

"I merely wish to inform you of a proposition of mine, you wish to possess information of the rebel leader, L. Yes?"

If simply that were true, Light thought about leaving, it was not in his self-interest to pursue information that would most likely come with a higher cost than such information is worth. Light has already deduced that this man is either working with L, as he finally recognized that messy raven black locks from the former time he talked with ‘L’.

Or in the slim chance that this man was working for L but plans on betraying him, then that would make L more cautious than he was now, and considering how scarce the information is on L is already without L being as cautious as he can be, Light would rather not take the stake of that.

As Light was a second away from the exit, he stopped and thought, he thought about his life up till this moment, how dull and meaningless it all has been without anything challenging for his brain to work on. Even after L has come into his life, L brought with him a world of interesting challenges but the frequent way of how L acted like they were simultaneously playing checkers and chess at the same time was simmering his soul with frustration. And he often comes out of it feeling worse than he already was.

But wouldn't it be fun if he indulges in a game with an opponent more visible?

And similar to how lightning strikes are unexpected; a remarkable urge to at least listen to the proposition this likely rebel that was about to give him emitted through his brain waves.

If someone ever dared to ask God why he decided to turn back and accept the deal this strange in all the way man whose name he does not even know and thus would not be able to exercise his authority on, Light would not be able to answer them.

Still, that one enigma of a choice made in the whims of lethargy has changed the course of fate.

And two days after the incident with the stranger that's when Light found the mysterious not-consumed apple which stood on his office table with a post-it note stuck on it written with the most stereotypical cafe name added with a date and time under it, each letter and number glimmered in the dimmed light of his office made his heart sung with the foresightedness of the end of his boredom.

Chapter Text

The sun rose onto the sky, just peeking over the pearly white clouds as if the doors of Heaven decided to open its gates to the mortals, clouds were placed onto the pastel blue sky, each and one of them was positioned far enough to paint an artistic portrait that could rival those made by Vincent van Gogh.

As the blinding white sunlight hit on to the ground below, stroke by stroke with the clouds moving further away from the sun, chasing the darkness that was brought on by the night, this picturesque panorama impels anyone who saw it to acquire the subconscious judgment that a day that facilitated such a breathtaking view could never generate a single tragedy. Yet, the world has always been quite paradoxical, both beautiful and rotten at the same time. And with the world bringing such marvelous sights into the morning it was bound by the rules of fate, like a twisted balancer, to curse the residents that resided in this beautiful day a miserable existence; The universe can not grant the mortals something holy stunning without adding in some rottenness into the mix.

So, the universe decided the ingredient she would like to add to make the world miserable was to piss off the self-proclaimed god.

Inside an irregularly empty coffee shop, no more than two men were sitting directly opposite to each other with a fairly large coffee table, placed on the coffee table was all kinds of sugar-filled pastry that would make any children with a sweet tooth shiver in delight.

The sage flowery wallpaper in the backdrop of the coffee shop the said domestic scene, all and all the scene looked remarkably similar to two college friends who decided to hang out in a coffee shop on a charming Sunday morning.

And maybe in another world, in another universe, one much kinder than this one that might have been true. It is too bad in this universe things are never quite as they seem at first glance.

Light gawked internally at the amount of sweet pastry that Ryuzaki had filling the small coffee table. Yet outwardly his face was a polite mask of normality, he gazed over the cup of black coffee that he ordered into the blank mask of Ryuzaki. Light's hand wrapped around the pastel pink USB with a strawberry keychain dangling down, the sound of the keychain colliding was like the ringing of church bells into the silent atmosphere of the café, the brunette's hazel brown eyes flicked down at the storage material of which held in the great if the not best enemy of Kira.

'How could his life come to this?’ Light thought for not the first time since this L came into his previous mundane life, well Light finally understands the phrase 'Be careful what you wish for.’ truly meant.

"How was your week, Kira-Kun?" Ryuzaki's seemingly eternally soft voice inquired, not a single word pitched higher than the other. The calming tone of the implied mocking undertone of the sentence clawed at Light's brain like a particularly vicious venom. Light clenched his left fist under the thankfully not translucent table, his fingernails dag crescent moons into his palm but he was cautious in not drawing blood to not leave any evidence of the out-of-character display of his frustrations. But Light would not disparage himself for how he can not control his sudden burst of emotions, this was not the first time nor would it be the last time this would happen, it turns out that Ryuzaki has a way of getting under his skin, that could rival those of Misa Amane's.

Light curved his lips into an action of a smile, but he knew Ryuzaki was able to see it as the sneer that it was. At least from these meetings of theirs, he could figure that Ryuzaki's intelligence was at least comparable. That by no means meant that he was in any way enjoying spending his precious time with this unkempt man who was probably sent by L to get close to him. Jokes on L, he was never going to trust anything that has a brain that could challenge him. So what if L wanted to sacrifice a few of his men into this meaningless endeavor? Who was he to interfere in L’s self-destructive pursuits?

This was a perfect opportunity to get Kiyomi back. But Ryuzaki was short on information about Kiyomi’s location as if Light was some kind of idiot that could not see through Ryuzaki’s lie.

“I’m fine, Ryuzaki-san." Light replied with impeccable manners, just because Ryuzaki could see through his golden boy act does not mean he would drop it.

Just like a scene from a play, with both actors playing out their characters in dynamic harmony while plotting to kill each other behind the red curtains.

Ryuzaki did not throw Light so much as a glance. For a moment Light had the thought that Ryuzaki was not able to hear him since he was too entranced by the dessert right in front of him. He parted his lips about to repeat what he previously said but before he could speak a vile and syrupy taste overloaded his mouth. L stared back at Light’s murderous glare, while Light’s Adam's apple bobbed unhurriedly, the self-proclaimed God made a face as if he swallowed the most horrendous thing on earth.

Light’s brilliant brain which used to flash ideas to him every millisecond had finally gone silent, and his eyes in hope of finding a place that's not Ryuzaki’s face to rest on fixated on the fork the bastard was holding.

The fork that was still dangling between the two, it was a silver fork with bits of frosting stuck on it, his watery saliva was glimmering with sparks of gold under the lights, a twisted mockery of a siren call.

He finally snapped back to reality, his previously fogged caramel brown eyes snapping back to clarity with a fierce glint.

“Was there any reasons you've done that, Ryuzaki?” Light demanded in a menacing tone that could make anyone fear for their life, anyone excluding Ryuzaki, of course.

Ryuzaki blinked slowly, the movement of the soon-to-be-dead man, if Light had his way, was remarkably similar to that of a judgemental feline.

“I deduced there's a 14% chance that Kira-Kun desires this precise piece of blueberry shortcake that I'm currently holding.”  Ryuzaki tilted the fork up while making calculated eye contact with Light, as he licked the frosting off.

“I don't like sweets, Ryuzaki.” Light growled, he drawled out each word as if speaking to an idiot. He was starting to think that Ryuzaki was doing this intentionally to piss him off. And damn it knowing that he could be playing right into the hands of an intellectually inferior is making him angrier and irrational which meant that this was a never-ending cycle unless he calmed himself and stopped acting like a buffoon.

Ryuzaki after he heard the proclamation of the dislike of all things sweet from Kira, suddenly had a tremendous thirst to clinch, with the thirst being to acquire a pillow into his custody at this moment and push it down with immense strength onto Light’s perfect face to smother a certain childish killer with a God complex who does not like confectionaries.

“Sweet helps the brain function quicker,” Ryuzaki stated. The brunette was about to throttle the raven-haired bastard but a cheerful ringtone cut off the increasingly irrational murderous intent that was coming from the opposite side and seem to surprise, the slight lift of Ryuzaki’s forehead had destroyed what Light was beginning to believe the unflappable façade of Ryuzaki.

Ryuzaki stared at the ringing phone, and without even the slightest bit of acknowledgment to the most powerful man in all recent years, he left.

Chapter Text

“I heard it's been two months since Amane got married to Kami but she still had not provided Kira-sama an heir."

"Do you think Kira-sama got tired of her already? I knew he should have chosen that wonderful Takada girl instead of some second-rate model.”

"Wasn't Takada that poor news reporter that got kidnapped?"

"Yeah, she was kidnapped by a group of horrid rebels on the day of Kira-sama's wedding."

"That must be a bad omen! I would not be surprised to hear that it was all orchestrated by Amane. No wonder their marriage is so broken.”

Both of the gossiping followers of Kira fell silent when they saw the object of their topic nearby, they lower their heads. Guilty, like children being caught with their hands in the cookie jar, hoping that their treasonous words against her were not overheard.

To their surprise, the blonde simply walked past where they stood without killing them or even reprimanding them.

Did she not hear? Or not care at all of the slanderous gossip that in any other circumstances, she would have killed the two offenders for.

Still. Even though the two followers were safe from immediate death, they had begun to repeat the sin that could've killed them, curiosity.

They observed how Misa Amane currently looked like she had fought with a feral cat and lost horribly.

They formed a conclusion that it's best not to anger a person whose glare now could even rival their god's when listening to one of the many reports of failed attempts to catch the rebels.

So they scattered off right in time as a heavy mahogany door slammed shut with a bang, the loud sound was still ringing throughout the hall moments after.

The apartment's previous blacked-out state was erased by a light illuminating the room; it uncovered the gothic adorned room in all its glory.

Misa stomped into the room, her black high heels hitting the carpeted floor with a furious vengeance.

She was angry no scratch that she was livid.

She was tired of coming back to an empty apartment every day; she was tired from still feeling a pinch of hope that her beloved Light would appear on the other end of the door before that hope was doused by the cold, hard, truth; she was tired of her rotting reputation.

‘The Goddess of the New World' she was.

Yet everyone chose to glorify Kiyomi Takada, the woman who stupidly got herself captured by rebels.

That news reporter was nothing compared to Misa.

She had been the one who married Light, the love of her life. It was all she ever wanted, to have legally binding papers proving Kira, her light in shining armor, belonged to her. But did it matter at all if Light didn’t bother to spend any time at all with her?

No, she's being an idiot again, there must be another reason.

It must be that Light as Kira, the merciful God that he is, must continue to find ways to save Kiyomi regardless of what he felt inside.

Misa knew that her poor Light had to be missing her so much right now!

She has half the mind to just write ‘Kiyomi Takada’ down on her Death Note, so that bitch could not cause so much strife between Light and her relationship anymore.

However she suppressed the urge, she did not want Light's hard work to go to waste after so much time spent.

Still, a nagging fear gnawed in the back of her mind, an inseparable thought imprinted in her unconscious psyche.

It made her doubt the truth. She remembered Light once had spoken about this cursed emotion but she wasn't paying much attention as she was imprinting how Light's caramel brown eyes were shimmering with crimson light under the warm sun.

Oh, how she wished she had listened now. Perhaps if she did this feeling would not be plaguing her mind. Light always knew better than her, did he not?

Misa peeled off her heels and fell spread-eagle onto the soft bed mattress, as her long blonde hair had been let out, her usual pigtails they fell like curtains around her.

Misa was unconcerned of the hygienic implication of such things. Unlike her normal self who would have screamed at such filthy behavior.

Except without her Light, she seemed to be acting as a mere shadow of her former self, unable to conjure up enough motivation to care.

Her gaze flickered away from the white ceiling which she had been staring at for some time now; her eyes began to inspect the cracks forming on her gothic-designed wallpaper.

She felt unbearably cold even though there was a blanket wrapped around her frame. She had only a Shinigami as her only companion.

Light miles and miles away from her reach.

Emotions swirled on the edge of her downcast eyes, while she could feel the sensation of heavy tears accumulating. Soon, water as clear as crystals leaked from her eyes.

She lay deep in the whirlpool of her emotions, unable to notice the murderous aura that was oozing out of the Shinigami who had followed her.

Eventually, she noticed that Rem was hovering slightly above ground beside her bed, a clawed hand suspended above her head as if it was trying to offer comfort while not knowing how.

The Shinigami settled for tucking a loose blonde lock behind her ear, its effort was futile as the stubborn blonde hair had gone loose again moments after Rem's action.

"Is Light ignoring me, Rem? Does he not need me anymore?" The blonde suddenly asked but Rem could tell that Misa did not expect an answer from her.

Misa stretched her left hand out to the ceiling; she looked like she was reaching for the heavens above.

"What if those rumors are true? Light never spends any time with me anymore. Has he gotten tired of me? Oh, Rem. I miss him so much." Misa sighed as she confided in her only friend.

After having become ‘The Goddess of the New World' she can no more continue being friends with people from her old life. In fear of compromising her judgments of them if they ever break a law.

All criminals are filthy and the people guilty of these vices deserve to die so they would not harm the innocents.

Even if they were the people she used to be friends with.

Nevertheless, she had never seen this as a problem before as she always had Light there for her.

Although, now that her beloved did not have the time for her. Misa realized just how lonely she was.

"Misa." The Shinigami began with its low-pitched voice, "If it will make you happy, I could check on Light Yagami for you."

"Really, Rem? You would do that for me?" Misa's previous depressing demeanor disappeared completely, a hopeful smile lighting up her face, like how the sun could chase away the damage done by heavy rain with a dazzling rainbow.

"Yes, Misa." ‘I would do anything to make you happy.’ Rem thought but dare not say.

The Death God spread her wings in a position of taking flight; she was disrupted by a loud "Wait!" from the human girl.

"Misa?" The Shinigami questioned.

"Rem, don't you have to follow me everywhere I go? Because of the rule written on the Death Note.”

The blonde girl’s aura which had recently brightened up was dimmed until her joyful attitude faded away completely. Rem unable to bear looking at the human being sad again reassured her.

"Yes. However, it’d be fine if I only took a bit of time away from you. I do not need to follow you every day. That is why you don't often see Ryuk."

Misa gasped in surprise, "Well, in that case, please Rem can you check on Light for me now?"

"Of course."

Misa, unaware of the danger she had put Light in, smiled warmly at Rem.

Light Yagami had been sitting in his office for hours now. Staring at the footage of recent rebel reports. The infuriating evidence of the imperfections of humanity. Despite all he had done to fix what was wrong with the world, those rebels would never yield to him, holding their ideals as a righteous shield.

The most exasperating of that was somehow they had been able to keep their righteous front, even with all the explosions and violence that those rebels have done, the greatest damage to a human that they have done was a kidnapping of a person famously in his inner circle.

Although he would like nothing more than to smash the footage before him in a fit of rage, he had to at least try to keep a calm façade. He reminded himself that he was not one of the unthinking masses and a God must not let his emotions get a hold of his brain.

Once calmed he began to analyze, all the footage was cut at the same time and all were cut at the exact moment the rebels started to jump on a vehicle of some kind, whether it's a car or a train and in one memorable occasion a helicopter. He had already known that L probably had been rich before he had risen to power, and L was using his numerous funds to finance the rebel's operation.

Yet unlike other benefactors, L seemed to be the one who planned each operation. And L had a mind that could rival his own. Besides that, he had gotten the informative proof of his theory that L has a genius hacker among the rebel ranks.

Otherwise, there was no possible way that they could've hacked into his highly encrypted security system. Repeatedly.

Additionally, the timing of each bomb going off meant that the rebels were restricted by a strict M.O. with a strict time limit, enforced by L.

This made him wonder why L was so paranoid that Light would catch one of his little rebels.

He doubted that it was fear of information being tortured out of those rebels and even if he wrote the captured rebel name on to his death note, said rebel could easily suicide by some obscured method before he gets even a squeal out of them.

Could it be that his rival cares for the people working under him?

Light maliciously smirked. It is only a hypothesis, nothing more than a burst of thought made by the facts provided. But was it not also true that Newton's law of universal gravity was created by a simple apple falling from a tree? An insignificant thing at first glance but there could be a small spark of truth within it.

More to the point Light could easily test his hypothesis; he needed only to catch one pesky rebel. He realized that he had been focused on catching a whole group of those rebels but this course of action was not necessary for his experiment.

Light just needed to isolate one rebel on their next mission and he had the advantage of knowing where they will next attack. L had been flying too close to the sun, believing that they could challenge a God and win. Well, it's time L learned not to mess with him.

Light leaned back against his chair, picked up a dart, and threw it; the dart flew straight through the middle of the board, piercing a hole at the back.

A crisp knocking sound was heard in the room. Light was irate. Had he not commanded his followers that no one could disrupt him during this entire day? Who had such disrespect for him to defy his authority?

"Enter." Light said in an overly honey tone. That made the person who was in the middle of entering the room visibly shudder.

For it was known throughout that it was more than expected when God is angered he would glare at you, but when he was fuming in explosive rage he would smile that most angelical smile you have ever seen.

The door was finally opened, and it revealed that the person who had dared enter was—

"Mikami."

The loyal servant of Kira stood upright.

"Why have you disobeyed my explicit order? Such insolence does not suit you." Light asked, Mikami knew that if he was anyone else his heart would've stopped beating by the 40-second mark.

Once again God was always too lenient with him.

"My apologies, Kami. An important message from the rebels was just sent to the international news station. We intercepted the message before it was able to be broadcast worldwide. But I feel that it would be best that Kami check the message within.”

"And why should I do that?"

"Because it shows the location of Miss Kiyomi."

Chapter Text

Mello ducked and dodged the bullets that fired at him on all sides of the battlefield. Instinctively, he threw a gas bomb. He ran down another sector of the museum all the while pulling out two guns and maneuvering both weapons into his hands.

Confused shouts and yells of 'catch him!' trailed behind him but the noise faded further and further as Mello entered deeper into the cavern of grey smoke. The smoke stuck on to him with every step he made, it circled up his scarred wrists and imprinted on his body its scent, which would take two bottles of cleaning agents to even make it turn less fucking potent.

Swiftly, Mello hid behind a giant statue of Kira to catch his breath. The sweet adrenaline caused the teen to grin maniacally. The blonde had resigned himself into expecting the mission to be mind-numbingly normal. Since he had to plant the explosives and get out of the cursed monument of Kira's suffocating ego. But Kira seemed to be finally fighting back and living up to the ʻhype' made about his such and such over the moon straight to the Mars intelligence.

It was impressive, Mello admitted to himself. That doesn't mean that Kira isn't still an ego-maniac though, he added.

Mello poked his head out of his hiding place. He never liked to be forced into waiting but he knew that patients were essential to executing his plan. Just like he thought a guard, Mello noted, was moving forward towards him. The guard's shadow loomed largely upon the teen. Carefully, he aimed one of his guns at the guard's left leg and pulled the trigger.

Mello, expecting a loud gunshot, was greeted with a silent click that he felt vibrate even through his leather-gloved left hand. There were no bullets loaded in the gun. Rage did not begin to describe the emotion he felt towards the weapon department.

Mello did not need to glance at that the fucking bastard to know that the guard heard the clicking of the gun and was smirking insidiously, thinking that he would be the one to capture an infamously dangerous rebel.

Like hell, he would go down so easily.

Mello used his smaller stature as an advantage; he ducked speedily under the raised rifle to grip onto the unprotected right arm of the guard and flipped him over to hit the guard's head onto the cold, hard marble floor.

The momentum of being flung and dragged down by gravity to the marble floor was probably too much for the asshole to take because when Mello stepped back from the body, it was slumped down on the ground.

He crouched down and turned the body over facing the ceiling to check if it was breathing. Thankfully, the body was still taking in oxygen and was merely unconscious. He would never get the end of it from L or Near if they knew he killed someone, whether that someone was a Kira's Guard or not, during an explosive-planting mission.

Mello, knowing that he had wasted enough time, dashed down the twisting halls of the museum. From the mission briefing that he had been given, he knew that this museum was built like the fucking Labyrinth. His footsteps echoed and vibrated the halls, it sounded uncomfortably loud to his ears. A gunshot came towards him at an alarmingly fast rate but Mello was able to dodge it in time by hurling his body weight to the side and using the force of that action to toss himself into a nearby unlit hallway.

Running in deeper, Mello thought about why there was a dark hallway in a Kira museum, it was impossible that Kira just forgot to pay his electricity bill or that his followers that were in charge of this ridiculously romanticized exhibit of his conquering of the world would have forgotten to change some measly light bulb; it was common but unsaid knowledge that Kira in all his abnormally huge ego took how his followers worshipping him very seriously even though there were no reported cases where any of Kira's followers died because they have angered Kira in someway, Mello would not be surprised if they were only hidden and hushed away like all the bombing incidents.

Many different pairs of rushing footsteps approached his hiding spot. Mello froze stalk still, he dare not move as he understood the danger of being caught. Mello blended into the layer of safety the darkness provided, the dark draped around him like a comfortable cape.

When the group of those unrelenting bastards walked past his hallway, he did not let down his guard as he knew that one of them was bound to check the dimmed hallway. Just like how he predicted, the guard at the very back peered his head into the hallway the rebel resided in.

Right in time, Mello thought. As he shot his hands straight forward clamping an iron grip of steel onto the guard's left arm which was closest to him at that instance. Before that minion of Kira was able to scream and alert the others, Mello stuffed his torn-off sleeve into the guard's unprotected mouth. He tied the knot tighter than he needed to. The guard squirmed and tried to kick at him but he was able to anticipate the attack and swiftly restrained the rest of the guard with the rope he found laying around a dark corner like a slithering snake waiting to strike.

"Calm down, you fucker." Mello hissed his voice barely audible through the loud buzzing air conditioner surrounding their general area that was not originally down before. The guard however was able to hear what he had said because he stopped struggling and glared venomously at the blonde's icy blue eyes.

Mello patted the guard's body trying to find where he kept his weapon. Just as he found what he assumed was a bludgeon, he felt a sharp sensation at the back of his neck.

Mello's world went black; his last thoughts were that he really should kill the weapon's department for this and how the unlit hallway really should've tipped him off to a reverse hostage move from Mr. I'm a God.

“L?” Watari entered the darkroom. The only light source inside is the cold fluorescent light of the thousands of monitors placed around the room. A layer of blue and white luminous light shone on his charge's pale face, his flickering pupil-blown eyes shone in immense radiance. Next to him placed a slice of unfinished cake, a sliver fork stuck on the sugary pastry.

L was precariously perched on his swivel chair. Anyone who was not well-informed of the genius's habits would have thought that a small gust of wind could tip the balance. But Watari, having been quite familiarly acquainted with L's odd habits for many years now knows very well that L in addition to being a super-genius also had amazing equilibrium.

Speaking of his charge's peculiar practices, he silently debates on whether to inform L about the latest news on Mello’s recently broken tracker, which indicated that he was most likely captured on the mission. On one hand, it would certainly be better if L knew that one of the Wammy kids has been captured; on the other, if L got emotionally compromised, this operation to free the world would go up in smoke.

While it's true that L's main three successors are all geniuses in their own respective rights. None of them held the experiences that the current L held in handling a hostile situation in an accurately subtle manner. They were all still teenagers. And after all, Mello can certainly take care of himself, there was no need for L to interfere.

Nevertheless, even with the bias weighing on his mind in convincing him to hide this information from his charge, he knew deep inside that informing L of Mello's capture by the hands of Kira was the only true option on the table.

"Yes, Watari?" L muttered over the thumb meticulously placed on his bottom lip.

"A situation has arisen. Mello was just imprisoned by the Kira Guards during the recent dispatched mission and he is currently being brought to the central capital."

"Oh." The word left L's mouth almost unconsciously. The detective ducked his head, his messy raven locks fell down to block his eyes like a layer of curtain. L's shoulders trembled and faint breathy noises escaped his mouth. Watari tip-toed slightly towards his charge, not wanting to startle the emotionally shaken L. Watari had never seen L so rattled before, not even when he accompanied L throughout the Los Angeles Beyond Birthday Serial Murder Cases. However when Watari looked closer at the expression on the detective's face, he realized that the detective was not shaken in distress and dismay but because of the laughter that course through him.

"L?" Watari asked with a pointedly questioning tone. He had not seen L show such amusement for many long years. Most notably was the last time L had laughed was when he discovered the existence of sweets. That was when L was 7 years old and first came into the orphanage.

"My apologies, Watari. But I am sure that Kira would find Mello to be quite a handful as a hostage. It is my great belief that Mello would find a way to escape within a week. Still, I would like to set up a rescue team sent to aid Mello in escaping. I will be leading them." L explained and quickly followed up with an order.

"Is there anything else?" Watari inquired.

"Yes. Be sure to discourage Near and Matt to be on the field for this particular mission. The no-kill rule still applies and we would not want any accidents." L uttered the last line almost mirthlessly but his eyes were still filled with elation.

Light was on his way to visit the dungeon cells with giddy excitement fluttering in his stomach when Rem flew through the nearby wall like a specter. The Shinigami stopped when her body fazed through the soil wall, Rem turned her head left and right and paused as her daunting red eyes landed on him. A chill creped up on his arm, slithering down his spine but Light being Light shook it off.

"Rem." Light greeted the Shinigami coldly; he was on a pleasurable ride of victory to lord over L who he has fixated over for months for even a drop of a hint of. Why was it that now when he had finally caught one of L's pawns was the time that Rem decided it was a nice turn to bother him about Misa? Needless to say, Light was pissed.

"Light Yagami." The Shinigami slowly sounded out his name, death in her eyes. Light knew instantly that Rem was angered and was about to write his name in the Death Note if he did not tell her what she wanted to hear.

"You have broken our deal, Light Yagami." Rem did not bellow this out but the impact was still as strong as a punch in the gut.

"Remember, Rem. Our deal was that I must provide Misa with anything she needs, haven't I already done that? She is the most powerful woman in the world. Anything she wants on a silver platter." Light curtly listed out, "So no I have not broken our deal, Rem." He mocked the Shinigami in the end. "Misa Amane needs you and you have not provided her that, human." Rem retorted, she growled the word 'human' in the end full of spite and disgust, not quite a slur but still it felt like an insult.

"But I am not a 'thing', am I?" Light replied crisply. There was a moment that everything around him turned chilly and Rem scornfully glared at him, but a moment after the frost retreated. "Well played, Light Yagami." Rem reluctantly admitted. "But know this. The day you stop making Misa happy, that day will be the day you perish from this Earth."

"Then it's a good thing that'll never happen." Light smirked. "If you don't mind, I have an engagement that I can't miss." And with that Light strolled past the deadly Shinigami with one thing in his mind.

L.

Chapter Text

Mello was no stranger to the effects of a concussion. The simple fact is that he would go as far as to say that he knew that particular injury pretty well by now despite his overwhelming desire to avoid it. Before he had registered with the wretched environment around him, he had already recognized the familiar sensation of being hit by a large bulldozer that thought it would be fun to have a go at drunk driving in the confinements of his head, his stomach was revolting against him and when he opened his eyes he was greeted with black blobs of blurry objects.

The first thing that Mello heard once the ringing in his ears was less adamant on making his life hell was the steady dripping of droplets hitting a stone surface. By this fact, he had already known that he was not safely tucked away in the infirmary. But what truly put the final nail into the proverbial coffin was how he felt the chilly sensation of iron shackles around his wrists; it chained him to a post somewhere so that even with the slightest movement of his hand the thing would pull him back like a dog's leash.

Mello was caught by Kira. He had been stupid enough to fall right into the obvious-in-hindsight trap. Some genius he turned out to be. Mello positioned his head higher up so that his eyes had a better vantage point to observe the thick metal chains Kira locked him in so that he could scheme someway to get out of them. The iron shackles that he was in had a smooth surface and he twisted his wrist over to look for the keyhole he had come up short. So lock picking them was out and he wasn't physically strong enough to pry the chains off himself. And even if he could do such a miraculous thing, he would still need to get through the iron bars that were somehow not rusted by the murky environment.

He did not even consider struggling against his bonds as he understood the futility of that action. It would only cost him more of his energy and his body was already bruised and soaring. Plus, he needed all the energy reserves he could get to be able to deal with the horrors that a certain bastard was going to dish out and after that be able to escape.

And if worse comes to worse, be able to hit his head hard enough into the jagged stone wall behind him so as to put himself in a permanent coma.

Mello was annoyed, more annoyed than that time when all his chocolate melted during the summer electrical shutdown that happened in Wammy House. The itchy cot that lay beneath him did nothing to settle his nerves. Although he doubted Kira had put it there for that purpose anyway.

And like the name appearing in his thoughts held the power to summon the presents of a said metaphorically demonic asshole. Outside the iron bars, Mello saw an ostentatious brunette-hair man with striking features in a suit that probably was made by the exploited working class who he recognized as Kira walked down the spiraling stone staircase with determined steps. This does beg the question of why Kira had come alone. Misa Amane was the one who was able to know the name of people by seeing their faces after all. Mello would've sooner expected Kira to send his lap dog in rather than entering a dark and damp place like this all by himself.

Mello twisted his head away from the approaching danger to stare at the lock that bound his arms together, the situation he was in finally hitting him in the head with the force of a sled hammer. He was going to be unmasked. The thought feared him more than it should. He had been prepared to die, hadn't he? Humiliation seemed like a small chastisement compared to death.

Even so, Mello did not want Kira to see his face.

But all too soon a pair of cleanly polished dress shoes arrived in front of the dingy cell, its owner giving the shackled prisoner a decisively malignant smirk. Kira's eyes glow a threatening shade of red under the ambiguous lighting that filled up the stereotypical dungeon cell. Mello just wanted to punch that hateful smirk off of that arrogant face. Is it just him or does Kira's face look more pompous up close? Mello found himself snarling at Kira and although the sound was muffled under his mask, it was still quite loud and that knowledge made him surprisingly proud of himself.

"It had certainly been a hassle to catch you, Rebel," Kira began. "You gave all of the guards an injury of some sort, and one even got a fractured bone delivering you to the Capital."

Was it only Mello's ego talking or did Kira sound slightly impressed? Despite Mello's usual tendency in expressing his opinions, often loud and massive portions of ranting, he kept silent not wanting to give away anything.

"Not going to say anything?" The authoritarian bastard asked in a false curious manner. The silence that stretched after that question barely lasted for a minute or two, but it felt like an eternity to Mello. Bit by bit, Kira's playful façade began to decay and crumble, what was left was a frosty, sharp glare.

In the far-off future, if anyone ever asked Mello if he had felt a tingle of terror he would have responded with not at all.

However, at that moment, a shiver had shot down his spine at the direct eye contact he made with Kira. Eventually, Kira broke the soundless atmosphere with a line he had expected but hoped and prayed would not be said ever since Kira showed up in person.

"Let's see what kind of face someone who works for L has." Kira forewarned sadistically with extra dark disdain emphasized on L's title. The way he spoke of exposing Mello's face was reminiscent of a television show host revealing the entertainment for the night, and the teen was the object of entertainment.

Mello, despite the fear of being revealed hanging in the back of his mind, was still able to feel offended on the behalf of his predecessor. It was no secret that he looked up to L and Kira was somehow managing to tarnish L's name by only speaking it, which made him indignant. He would have said it was a special talent if it wasn't Kira that possessed it. Mello felt his eyes narrow at Kira who was approaching the locked cell door, with the keys that were previously in his pocket taken out.

"Why so uncommunicative? Aren't you going to at least defend yourself verbally?" Kira taunted, stepping closer to Mello. His hand rose threateningly. A finger dangling in the air, it was aimed directly at his mask. Mello had never felt threatened even when being held at gunpoint, then again being shot had never been the thing he feared the most.

No, what he feared was not death but what comes after his death. Because surely after Kira got what he wanted, he would be killed off by a heart attack. Save managing to escape the stone cell before getting his face revealed which was going to happen pretty soon, so that was improbable.

Unless... An idea popped into his mind. A terrible and stupid idea, it was an idea he was not even sure would work. And if anyone from the Wammy House caught wind of it, it would make them question how he got Top 3 in ranking in every exam. Luckily, he planned on never mentioning this situation to anyone ever. Not Linda, not Near and not even L would ever hear about this.

And with all the strength his vocal cords can muster up, he screamed. He strained his throat until it was hurting him physically but he kept pushing on like his life depended on it. Which it in fact did, very much so.

Mello knew that once Kira ripped the mask off his face, it would be game over for him. He also knew that Kira, the bastard, wanted to mentally torture him over the fact that he was helpless to stop Kira from taking his mask off of him. So obviously he would want to keep awake through the process. Why else would the fucker wait until he was fully awake to reveal his identity? That's why he needed to get himself knocked out with a small risk of getting a serious injury because Kira is unlikely to keep him alive and relatively in one piece now that the hostage they took from the bastard and the equally suck ass murderous Misa Amane's wedding night's location was revealed voluntarily in order to advance to stage two of L's plan.

Considering that Kira would never think to ever hold him hostage against L. Although if he did, the bastard would be sorely disappointed. L would never stoop so low as to bow down to emotional blackmail nor would Mello want him to.

That's why he decided to scream himself hoarse to the point of passing out. Plus, it gave him the bonus of scaring the shit out of Kira.

His high-pitch yelling managed to startle Kira before tearing his mask off, his hand visibly flinched back and unconsciously drew away from the trembling teen. He tried to raise his head a bit to get a better view of Kira's face of surprise but found himself unable to gather enough of his strength.

Soon, Mello saw black spots coating his vision, light-headiness crept in the edge of his brain. In quick succession, the sensation of darkness engulfs his body. And for the second time, Mello's body slumped down in unconsciousness.

L had never sought to be described as a 'caring' or 'heroic' person. The detective was certain in the knowledge that anyone in this world who has ever had the dubious pleasure of working with him would never believe that he indeed had any feelings at all. His every action had critical thought put into it and he had never let any emotions rule his head. He hated to lose and would never sacrifice a win for anyone.

Yet these past few months spent with his successors were steadily proving these unshakable truths about his character false.

In a way, he had fooled himself, he whole-heartedly believed that he is a cold unfeeling machine. He had drawn himself away from the rest of humanity, isolated himself in a dark room with only the artificial lighting of the computer and the lingering taste of pastries upon his tongue. L came to see humanity as an object, for him to protect. Every challenging case he faced was entertainment for his mind to feast on.

But the truth was, he felt trapped in that room and the responsibility that had fallen upon his shoulders. Perhaps even a bit lonely.

In a twisted way, Kira taking over the world was the best thing that had ever happened to him. He was finally able to spend time with his successors and he was surprised by how interested he was. It was not intellectually challenging in any way, but he had believed it to be vital in constructing profiles for them.

He had formed attachments.

Somewhere between spending time with all his successors even those who were not at the level of matching wits with him. L, for the first time in 7 years doubted the conclusion he has made for his character has ever had any merit at all.

The longer he spent with the Wammy House's children as individuals rather than machines manufactured with the sole purpose to replace their predecessor, the better he felt he understood why someone would ever succumb to their emotions.

And all of this had been fine until L realized milliseconds after that Kira would most likely use his successors against him if he ever knew.

And that too would have been somewhat acceptable, if not for the extremely noticeable fact that the same successor he had accidentally formed his attachments on were the same pre-teens and teenagers that had a penchant for being adrenaline junkies and were addicted to being in life and death situations like how he was addicted to sweets and sugary food.

He trusted that most of them are smart and competent enough to take care of themselves and avoid capture in the first place even if they do struggle with daily life.

Yet if they ever do get captured, L was not naïve enough to believe that Kira, the ruthless killer with a god complex who had long since branded L and all who are associated and aligned themselves with his ideology as criminals, would hesitate in torturing a minor.

When he learned about the circumstances his hot-headed successor had gotten into made L, for a quick second, wished that he had just opted out of this rebel business and stayed eternally in the pleasant embrace of the dark secluded room and had not kept up any interaction with his successors at all.

Instead, L and his entire 180 IQ had decided that he was long overdue for some human interaction that was not with Watari, the law enforcement, or a serial killer on death row. That may not be a decision he regretted but a decision that he would have preferred not come with some many complications.

L was not one to shy away from responsibility.

He told Watari that he was not saddened by the fact that Mello was kidnapped, and that mostly was not a lie. He has full trust in Mello's ability in avoiding death. Mello was a fighter after all and would kill himself ten thousand times if he were ever killed by Kira. However, he also knew that Kira's intelligence was nothing to be scoffed at and his stubbornness can be matched by a bull.

L's monthly meetings with Kira had taught him that if there were ever two things that were admirable in Kira was his intellect and him hating to lose. They were very alike in this way. Seeing as Mello would likely be chained up in the Capital's legendary lower dungeon area with no access to any ventilation system and high security. Mello would be hard-pressed to escape with his identity and life intact, let alone anything else.

This is why L can not in good conscience leave Mello in the non-existent mercies of Light Yagami. And he swears that if anything happened to Mello, he would bring about the absolute destruction of the Empire that Kira had built for himself, leaving nothing but ashes in his wake.

L lowered his gaze to stare burning holes into his files of paperwork he had finished, one file held between his left hand's thumb and index finger while he was biting his right thumb. He meticulously placed the bright blue binder file he was holding onto the carefully balanced stack of other binder files that looked like it was on the edge of tumbling down. L stepped down from his chair and slowly edged backward, his back still hunched, his eyes widening as a backup plan he made years ago came to him in a flash. A smile crept silently onto his face.

The plan had been redacted originally by the count that it was too flashy and would attract too much unnecessary attention when his position was still quite shaky during his early days of being L. It was a plan to break a criminal he had sorely needed out of the maximum-security prison intending to interrogate him about a series of serial murders. But since the reasons for that were not essential and the risks were far over the benefits. L had scrapped the plan.

Now it appears that the plan might be able to come to fruition after all.

Chapter Text

There was a well-dressed young man that stood alone in a humid and damp cell, fist clenched and brows furrowed, his mouth opened and closed noiselessly. The firm stone walls that surrounded him appeared to crack at the sharp sting of anger and disbelief that radiated off him in intense waves.

Light nudged the drooping left arm of the body that lay on the small cot that was placed on the dirty stone ground with the tip of his dress shoes. For once his mind was completely blanked and stunted. There were few times in his life that he had been in a situation that truly shocked him. He hated that this moment was going to be established in his mind as one of them. 

Just moments ago, the body was still wide awake and very alert to what kind of danger it was in. Light was just about to achieve his victory. With that knowledge, his blood had thrived through his veins, and his hand was on the cusp of lifting that abominable mask to pull it away. Yet, the stupid rebel decided to stupidly scream himself to unconsciousness; his ears were still ringing because of that. He could still do it, Light thought to himself. But he knew that the feeling wouldn't be the same.

Light would not be able to see his enemy's fear and tantalizing struggle as he slowly revealed their face.

"Damn it." The tyrant cursed spitefully at the limp body that was inhabited by one of his greatest enemy's lackeys, he was tempted to deliver a swift kick onto the fucking chin of that rebel for all the commotion. Because of the rebel's senseless defiance now he had to wait for what would potentially be another hour.

Whatever, it was only a minor delay. Light knew that he could very well just come back later or stay until the rebel regains his consciousness, as he had already dealt with the abduction of Kiyomi Takada by dispatching a group of rescuers to the newly revealed location. It was still annoying though. Light wanted to at least unmask one rebel before they got executed or rescued. Which meant he would have to actually put in more effort to keep the rescue team L was sending at bay if his speculation was true, which Light was. Because he was always right. 

He willed himself to withdraw his shoe away from the rebel's face. In any other circumstances, he would gladly indulge himself in kicking a vile criminal in the face, let alone a rebel that has given him so much trouble. The rebel seriously bit one of his guards that were escorting him to the capital. What was he a dog? L must be insane to have recruited this guy as one of his little minions. Light had personally seen through the process of picking his guards, they were the best of the best but none of them would be determined enough or deranged enough to even consider biting their enemy. 

Even less when they are completely surrounded by their enemies. Yet the rebel had done it and he had performed the act viciously. That particular soldier had to stay in the psych ward for at least three days. 

In his irritation with the rabid dog that was L’s rebel soldiers. He can’t help but see the ingenuity behind it. Truly, when he gets his hands on that L he will need to at least keep him alive for a few days so he could keep some intelligent company for the first time in his life. But not too long though, or else L might find some way to escape and the game will begin again. As much as Light enjoys this thrilling experience, he would just as much like a victory to be had once in a while. And L is just not providing that. 

Maybe when this whole rebel ordeal is over he can go find Ryuzaki, if his weekly meetings taught him anything about that weird stranger that had the guts to walk up to him and show him such disrespect it was that the man was a mystery waiting to be solved. Questions kept rising every time Light met with the man, like how does a person dressed like the homeless know so much about the inner workings of his HQ? Or how does he even know so much about L?

Between the kidnapping of Kiyomi Takada and the massacre of recently reappearing criminals, Light had just put the information he received about L on the back burner until recently. And what he learned from Ryuzaki might have been small and insignificant to any other eyes but his, yet it had been enough. Learning that L had been a detective in his past, let alone one that was called in by Interpol to solve the most unsolvable crimes, explained a lot about his enemy and why L is so damn good at planning out his rebellious acts. Yet then, a new question pops up, why is L even doing this in the first place? It made no sense.

Light placed the key into where it was designed to go and turned it anti-clockwise until an audible click can be heard. The metal door swung open from Light's forceful strength in pulling it open. He took a step out of the cell but before he fully exited, a premature unexpected and unrestrained thought halted him. 

Nothing was stopping him from taking a look at the rebel's face except for the restraints he placed on himself. He grimaced. Was he really going to waste a perfect opportunity to see a rebel's face and gather the general recruitment range of L just so he could feel a thrill? Slowly, Light turned back to stare at the rather short figure of the rebel. The rebel's mask appeared to gain a shining effect under the dungeon's refracting lights. It taunted him. He took a step back into the cell, his feet knowing what he wanted before his senses caught up. 

His fingers found perches on the edges of the mask and started to pull it away from its owner. The chin was the first to be revealed and just when he was about to take the entire mask off. A loud ringing noise once again pierced through his concentration. This time he recognized it to be his phone ringing. More or less because of the unmistakable vibration occurring in his pants pocket.

With a loud curse, Light let the mask drop back down and get up from the crouching position he had mechanically been in to get on eye level with the rebel's mask.

He fumbled a bit trying to get his ringing phone from where it was concealed, and when he finally was able to answer the call he was greeted by a recognizable voice of Mikami. 

"Yes?" Light spat quite nastily even by his standards. Silently he reprimanded himself for losing control in front of a follower. 

"Kami, I called to report about the successful rescue of Kiyomi-san. I apologize if I caught you at a bad time." Mikami said with reverence in his voice. In the background, he vaguely heard the shouting of commands and the running footsteps of soldiers.

"I doubt you would call me just to report a successful rescue attempt, what more have you found out?" Light asked, inspecting his fingernails to see if they had gathered any dirt from this visit. He would've preferred if he had not needed to come down to this place ever again. The last time he had to visit an enemy that was dangerous enough to receive the honor of being locked up in the maximum-security dungeon, the gap between his fingernails and fingers was coated with a layer of dry blood when he came back out.

And they had remained in that appalling state for at least an hour despite him washing his hands repeatedly in order to get rid of it. 

"Yes... Of course!" Mikami stuttered out, Light was glad that this was a conversation where Mikami could not see him because Light would have a hard time stopping himself from rolling his eyes. "Well, there was this memory stick placed in the hands of Kiyomi-san when we found her as the rebels have purposefully left it there for us to find." 

While Mikami had been explaining what he had found Light was walking up the spiraling stairs that lead to the exit. His right hand paused from reaching for the handprint lock when he heard about the memory stick that was found with Takada. The hand that he was holding his phone began to twitch. A memory started to rise to the surface from its slumber. 

"A memory stick?" Light questioned incredulously, turning the excessively frilly thing over and over again trying to find the secret something hidden inside because having his answer handed to him on a digital silver platter at this point was both insulting to his intelligence and rude. 

"Yes, Kira-kun. Is there any problem with that? Or perhaps I should take that memory stick back if it offends your sensibilities." Ryuzaki said, his pale hand reaching out to take the pastel pink nightmare-inducing thing back. But Light held the memory stick higher than Ryuzaki's reaching point, the strawberry keychain sharply collided with the plastic surface of the memory stick to create a clunking sound. He used this to wordlessly indicate that despite his disgust he would like to keep the thing. Thankfully, Ryuzaki for once got the message and discontinued his attempts to get the memory stick back without commenting.

“No, there aren’t any problems with that. I just didn’t expect that you would have this kind of sensitive information saved in a digital format.” Light clarified almost defensively as he once again inspected the object that was cradled in his hand. 

“Sometimes, Kira-kun, the most difficult of questions, has the simplest answer. Besides, who doesn’t take advantage of the many benefits that come with modern technology in this day and age?” Ryuzaki proclaimed with a mouthful of cake, a fork still dangling between his teeth.

"Kira-sama? Kira-sama!" Mikami concernedly called out, halting him from recalling the memory to the fullest extent.

"Mikami, once you get back you bring that memory stick straight to me." Light ordered, after he listened to Mikami's confirmation that he had heard the order he cut off the connection before the useless goodbyes could be said as he had better things he could be doing like preparing for the rebel’s inedible rescue team’s arrival.

"How are you holding up Near?” 

The albino paused in his act of stacking the final block to his multicolor tower and subsequently the tower began to shake and wobble, its foundation crumbling before his eyes. Near stared blankly, unfazed at the unorganized pile of blocks that had crumbled at his feet. His lips curled the most emotion he had shown since he had heard about Mello's captivity and his inability to personally go out to save him because of his emotional entanglement with him. 

L thought that Near would lose his capability of controlling his emotions if he knew that Mello's life is at stake. Near did not know what to think about what that implied about himself as one of the greatest detectives in recent history and perhaps even longer presumed that he might be blinded by his emotional attachments. Mello never would have wanted that; Near does not want that.

To now hear a consoling question from the second most emotional-stunted person in Wammy House next to Mello and he was to him exactly like a nail on a chalkboard. 

"Yes, I am holding up nicely as you can see." He said coldly without the usual bittersweet warmth that the sentence was spoken with, he gestured with his hand at the square-shaped blocks that previously had been a tower lying there at his feet. A crumpled piece of architecture, broken before it was able to be finished. 

"Good, good." Matt fidgeted with the bright red gaming console that was in his hands, he stood there awkwardly as Near picked up a building block and restarted in his endeavor of building a tower out of blocks.

Matt suddenly let go of his polite pretense and composure, all the air of courtesy left him with one sigh. That apparently was the amount of normal social interaction he could stand since he grabbed a cigarette, an act Matt usually does when he is agitated.

"Look, Near, I know that we don't talk or interact at all aside when a mission is needed for it." Matt smoked the lit cigarette and puffed out smoke moments later, his body unconsciously leaning to the nearby wall for support. 

"But hey, I figured that we both were indefinitely banned from going on the fields for who knows how long. Plus Linda is busy with L's big rescue plans, so I thought why can't we have a nice chat?" Matt said abrasively, his hands waving in the air in the general direction of where L sat commanding whoever was in charge of the reconnaissance mission, Near was not exactly paying attention at the usual round table meetings were held as he was distracted by the fact that Mello was captured by, in the purest sense of the word, a sociopath who cannot feel empathy. 

Mello's rants certainly are having their effects on Near's usually apathetic views on Kira; it was at that exact moment that a revelation hit him like a toy train. Matt did not go out of his way to approach him for a counseling session that would be obviously out of his depth or a 'nice chat’ he had put it. It was because of Mello or better put it was because of the lack of Mello. Matt had always been the one who had been following Mello ever since he appeared in Wammy House. If Near had any less respect than he did for Mello, he would dare say that Matt was very much like a loyal dog that had just lost its master. And although he would never simplify Matt and Mello's friendship as one like a pet and master's, the sentiment still stands. 

Matt felt lost, and could not help but undergo the seven stages of mourning despite Mello not being at the factual status of the deceased. If this rescue mission L concocted failed on its first try, there will not be any other changes to retry. 

Mello's execution was due in only a few days, which was expected. Kira understandably did want an enemy of his empire that was in his possession to be able to live as that would cause him to be scrutinized by all of his political enemies that were not so easy to kill off due to the outrage it would cause. 

Kira was seen as a god by any average citizen and the tabloids were too afraid to directly slander him, but that would all change if Kira killed a prominent or well-liked public figure. A lot of early non-supporters in the political fields were able to survive off of this Achilles' heel of Kira's. 

He would be lying if he claimed that thoughts of amusement did not come from this insight. Yet now Mello was very close to his demise because of this piece of information and all the hilarity that was deprived of it had turned abruptly sour.

"Indeed. Why can't we have a nice chat?" He duly inferred, his face showing nothing of his thoughts. “We are very similar after all.”

“Yep. I mean you and I both have similar interests in things that are usually considered to be childish.” Matt referenced without glancing once at the noticeable mess of blocks on the ground around him. Matt took another drag of his cigarette. 

“What common society considers ‘childish’ is something that does not concern people like us. And our hobbies may be very similar, that's true but they are distinctly different.” He answered with prompted neutrality, no hint of the words' actual meanings. Matt have no energy to decode what Near had spoken, but even so, he vaguely got the gist of it.

“Uh-huh. Well then, I am going to leave you with your distinctively different hobbies. I have no hopes of comparing to.” Matt flicked his wrist, a bit of ash fell onto the tiled floor, dots of grey and black dust on a polished surface.

No attempts were made by either of them to hold another conversation after that. But to the two’s credit, they did not prompt the other to leave their sight. Matt even got to enjoy a cigarette in Near’s presence before he left. And although no closure was had by the two, that was a moment that the two had never forgotten about, mostly because of the eventfulness of the incident.

Chapter Text

Something boiling was simmering vigorously upon Mello’s face. His nose twitched as blinding white light filled his closed eyelids. It made Mello think that Kira had killed him and that the afterlife was just some endless span of getting your face cooked in the oven with nothing but the bright white that stretched before him in spades. Yet slowly but surely his bodily functions started returning to him, he could feel the weight of his limbs and the strain in his neck. His mind no longer felt like it was running two frames a second, enfold by static. He flexed his fingers, releasing them one by one from the fist he made, they felt stiff. His whole body felt stiff and it didn’t help that Kira chained him up in this position that was not conclusive to the human body’s comfort.

He attempted to open his eyes, only to find himself squinting into the sunlight, and it took a few more seconds before he could regain his full vision. He grunted and stared tiredly into the dull grey of stone, just staring at the reminder that he was currently captured and not at all surrounded by his allies is enough to wake him up from his drowsiness.

Forgetting that he was chained to the wall he tried to inch his body away from the blinding light that extended towards him from the small window like he was an ant trapped under a magnifying glass. Only to be reminded that both of his wrists were held against his will above his head. 

“Great. The service Kira gives his death sentences here are really 10 out of 10. Nothing like a hot dose of Death Valley California when you wake up from your self-induced knockout.Truly the heights of humanity.” Mello declared out loud knowing that his remark wouldn’t be heard but still he wanted to vocalise his grievances. No, it wasn’t a good sign of his mental health that he started talking to himself but he couldn’t really give enough of a shit right now.

Then Mello looked down. 

…

He thinks that maybe he should be horrified, his brain should probably be screaming at him by now. He knew damn well that it wasn’t just some coincidence that his mask was so far off from its normal place. But staring at what was essentially signalling his doom, he felt his soul detached from his body. He was not here. A soul floating above staring at someone else’s disaster of a life. 

Mello knew that if he dissociated from his body now, he might as well be surrendering. Gifting himself on a silver platter for Kira with a pretty bow on top. He didn’t want to submit to some idiotic supernatural power, not at all. Mello would even go so far as to say that when Kira killed him, he would crawl back from the grave just to haunt that fucker out of spite. But the issue was not that his spirit was lacking in determination because as far as the department went he was in abundance. Some would even say that he had too much of it for his own good.

The biggest problem now wasn’t the world’s slowest and subtlest torture being enacted on him just right before the day he was supposed to die if Kira got his way.

Even though, the fucking sun trying its best to burn his face off and limiting his vision to either looking down or anywhere that’s not facing his only avenue to freedom. Mello could bear it, he had faced worse before.

It was that even if he escaped, Kira would always be able to use his name and face to eliminate him from the playing field. He could be on an important mission and right before the crucial moment, his heart would erupt in nightmarish pain. He was essentially a sitting duck. No worse. He was a lamb constantly on the verge of slaughter. 

Yet, even now he wanted to believe that Kira didn’t see his face. That he had been correct when he speculated that Kira’s sadistic nature would not have let him go ‘unpunished’ for his actions. There was no way that Kira did not succumb to his human nature, he’s human after all, isn’t he? No matter how much the world’s been fooled by the ‘godly’ power of Kira, underneath Kira is Light Yagami. And Light Yagami is flesh and bone. Not that much older than Mello, really. The self-proclaimed god was barely 18. Light Yagami is quite distinctly human, and maybe the placement of his mask was really just a silly coincidence.

‘There are no coincidences.’ his inner L voice chided. That motto had been too engraved inside his mind to let him forget its fucking existence. He despises his brain sometimes.

It was not like Mello could have believed that in the first place. He was good at a lot of things, but self-deception was never one of them. It was not like he could strike a match and forget the truth. In fact for as long as he could remember he had been trained to do the opposite. 

Still, nothing in the world hurts quite as much as the cold hard truth.

He sighed and closed his eyes, shutting out the world around him, tainting his world with comforting strokes of darkness. He let the heat stream through him in violent waves. 

Perspiration dripped down from his forehead down to the corner of his eyes, making him feel more disgusting than he already felt. The back of his neck felt as if an overly eager dog attacked it with its tongue. His whole body felt like he had gone supernova. 

“I’m going to be stuck here till the day I die, aren’t I?”

“Not if I have anything to say about it.” A cheery voice chirped.

Mello shrieked. Having closed his eyes and justifiably stewing in his misery, he failed to notice the clanking sound of the metal door being flung open and Linda walking in with a huge crowbar.

“Linda?” Mello questioned not believing his eyes.

“Duh.” She said throwing the huge crowbar aside and as it fell to the ground. She took out a lock pick from her pant pocket and started working her magic on Mello’s cuffs.

“What’s wrong with you, Mells? Usually, you’d be out of these metals by sundown.” Linda jokingly asked, but she was obviously concerned.

“What are you doing here, Linda!?” Mello shouted fiercely with bits of confusion, some gunshots and bodies falling to the ground with a thud could be heard above.

“I’m here to save you of course. Well not me specifically, L is here too.” The cuffs unlocked with a click, dropping Mello whose body was supported by them to the floor. 

“Wait! L’s here? Where’s Matt and Near? Better yet, why are you even fucking rescuing me? It isn’t safe! Kira probably got this whole place rebel-proofed.” Mello yelled hysterically. He rubbed his raw wrist and got off of the floor. Linda stared at him like he had spoken to her in Spanish.

“Why would you think we wouldn’t rescue you, Mells? Do you think a couple of booby traps can scare us away?” Linda remarked, grabbing the red wrist of a still confused Mello and forcefully dragging him out of the cell.

“Oh, fucking Christ.” The angry blonde swore, pulling his still raw and sensitive wrist out of the firm grip that was too similar to the chains’ for comfort. Despite his protests, he still willingly followed Linda up the spiraling staircase. Until they hit the top where they are greeted with a biometric door. Linda just sighed and kicked the door down. She had seen enough technical security stuff for a lifetime, and stealth wasn’t needed for this mission, speed was. 

Standing behind the door was a hall with walls made of reflective metal, a broken security camera twitched and rained small electric sparks down onto the floor. More importantly, a person who Mello recognized as L but covered head to toe, hunched back and all. 

“Ah! L?” Mello's mouth gaped in surprise, even though Linda had already told him that L was here, he hadn’t thought that L would risk himself just to save him from Kira’s actual den.

“Yes, Mello?” L prompted back as if there weren’t loud gunshot sounds and it was just a normal Tuesday to him.

“You’re here!” He stated more for his benefit than anyone else.

“Yes, I believe Linda has informed you of that fact.” L said matter-of-factly. He stared at Mello with a blank expression, chewing on his thumb. Linda who was beside them gazed at both of them, exasperated. 

Sighing, she rolled her eyes. “Look, I hate to break up a reunion. But we have to—” The clinical white light of the hallway suddenly turned bright red as the alarm blazed through hidden speakers.

“Run!” Mello finished Linda’s sentence, as they collectively began running towards what Mello assumed was an exit.  The metal door behind them slammed shut as the whole building entered lockdown. 

“Perhaps I might have miscalculated,” L spoke as flying drones swarmed towards them in hordes, shooting bullets from who knows where like they were in a horribly written and badly produced sci-fi film. Mello, who amidst the chaos was given a gun, shot the drones that were getting too close for comfort and pulled their small three people group behind a wall to dodge the entourage. They all continued to run until they were able to take temporary shelter in a large abandoned storage room, boxes and items covered in a heavy coat of dust.

“Fuck,” Linda uncharacteristically let out a violet swore, as Mello and L used their collective strength to push the metal door to stay shut as millions of drones seem to pile outside the door trying to get in. “Something must have gone wrong.” 

“No shit, Sherlock.” Mello snarked, wheezing because of the strain in his arms to keep the banging door shut, L who was struggling the same beside him albeit more silently and with more restrained and light grunting noises.

“Yes. I suspected that something similar to this would happen. Although this is quite extreme, Kira must really want your death sentence, Mello.” 

“Oh of course. Of fucking course, this day is going just dandy.” As Mello complained, Linda threw them more heavy objects so they could block the door with them.

“Look on the bright side Mello, at least those death drones don’t shoot lasers,” Linda remarked as she finally calmed down, noticing how stressed and tense the blonde was, trying to cheer Mello up from his pessimistic mood only to fall short, for an entire mile. Mello turned his head up from pushing the heavy dirty old couch that was probably abandoned here for god knows how long to glare at Linda.

“No! It’s not lucky that the goddamn death drones that have been shooting bullets left and right outside weren’t shooting fucking lasers out of their non-existent eyeballs, Linda. Because lasers or not, you two could have died! You shouldn’t have come for me, L shouldn’t have come for me. NO ONE should have come to rescue me. We made that no rescuing rule for a fucking reason! Kira already knows my face, you’re just dragging a soon-to-be rotting corpse. And that’s not worth risking either one of your lives for!” Mello ranted unhinged from the day’s events, already at the brink of his breaking point. He felt like a rope pulled taut, about to break from mental strain.

“...What are you talking about Mello? Of course, we would come back for you. We risk our lives every single day ever since that crazy mass murderer became a world leader but I never heard you complain.” 

“That’s different and you know it!”

“Really? Is it that different? None of us was trained to defeat an over-powered megalomaniac, Mello. Some of us are barely trained to be detectives. So every time we go out on a mission we are risking our lives, so what’s the difference now that we are doing it for you, Mello?”

“Linda’s right.” L finally stated, “Mello, it’s okay. I chose to rescue you and I don’t regret it. There’s no need to be worried for us, you know. Linda and I can take care of ourselves, and I promise you that before the day is over we will make out of this glorified slaughterhouse alive.”

Mello went silent, staring at L disbelievingly. Linda walked over to an astonished Mello, patting him on the back. “Come on Mello, we still need to think of a way to get out of here.”

“No,” Mello muttered, lowering his head.

“I’m sorry?” 

“I said no! You have to leave without me. I’m already a dead man walking. It doesn’t matter if I leave this place or not. Either way, Kira is going to—”

“Mello.” L said the blonde’s name softly but Mello kept on speaking. Maybe Mello was ignoring L or he had simply not heard L call his name because he didn’t stop his ranting instead he got louder.

“Oh god! Kira is going to… he is going to kill me! I’m going to die! I’m going to fucking die and I can’t take you two with me! Please just go!”  Mello was working himself into a panic. L saw it, and Linda did too. He was pacing back and forth in the room, his eyes were blank and watery.

“Mello!” L stated Mello’s name again, but louder now almost shouting, instantly snapping Mello out of his tirade. L didn’t raise his voice often but that only makes it more commanding when he does. 

“What about Near?” L finally asked, Mello, froze.

“Near…?” Mello whispered, his grip on the gun tightened.

“Yes, what about Near?” L repeated. L also didn’t often repeat a question, Mello noted. Then again, it wasn’t often that Mello had an anxiety attack.

“I…” Mello was lost for words, he hadn’t thought about Near. Sure he had thought that Near would probably be upset about Mello’s death. But he would move on, right?

“What about Matt, Mello?” 

Mello scowled. “L, what you are trying to do won't work. They would do the same if they were in the situation I am in.” 

“Mello. Have you ever thought about what Near and Matt would do if they ever found you dead?”

“...” Mello shuddered, he may have been the most violent kid in Wammy House but if Mello knew anything about Near it was that his lover could be very fucking scary when he wanted to be. And he couldn’t imagine what technological horrors a grief-stricken Matt can inflict in the poor defenseless world. Mello had done some casual terrorism himself before but if he compared all his misdeeds combined it would still be a little dust ball when next to all the horrible things a motivated Near and a Matt that actually gives a shit could commit in only a month.

“Wow Mello, you can be so stupid sometimes.” Linda said fondly, “Now that you’ve finished moping, how about we get out of this hellhole, hmm?”

“Yeah… Yeah sure. Let’s get the fuck out of this hellhole.” Mello still looked unsure, but Linda figured that was just the nerves talking.

After two bent crowbars, three bullets, and a single grenade, the rebels finally made it out of the room mostly unharmed. L was the final one to leave the room, stepping out of the hole that was blown out of the wall, he brushed off the dust that stuck on his hoodie. Yet they didn’t blast out of the facility instead they were met with another room.

The room they entered was odd, its interior design was not like the dungeon or the hallway. Rather it was full of high walls made of wood and painted white. In the middle of some of those walls was what could be called an entrance.

“This must be the maze Kira built.” L explained as he saw the confusion that Mello was displaying in his facial expression.

“... Why would Kira build a maze in the middle of ass-fuck nowhere?” Mello asked in disbelief, tracing the wooden walls with the tip of his gun, his finger was fiddling with the trigger. Neither L nor Linda responded. Though from the corner of Mello’s vision, he could see L staring intently at the maze and… rolling his eyes? 

“Kira always had a flair for the dramatic.” L opted to say instead of answer the question that Mello asked.

“I guess, but a maze?” Mello gestured at the structure in incongruity, squinting at it like it would suddenly change into something else under Mello’s gaze.

“Whatever, maze or no maze, they're just a bunch of walls, I’m sure we will blast through them in no time!” Linda said optimistically, her hands placed on her waist.  

Mello sighed and walked into the maze, he could already tell that this day was about to be worse than it already was.

Chapter Text

“This reminds me of something,” Linda said out of the blue and completely unprompted. 

They had just entered the maze through the eerie corridor with no lights at all. Once they finally got to the end of that tunnel, the room they entered was as large as a tennis court, and their voices were able to echo without the slightest problem due to the space. There were two corridors placed on opposite sides of the other, and one placed right in front of them, that was radiating heat so strong that L felt it even though he was standing the furthest away from it.

“Yeah? How can this specific situation possibly remind you of anything unless you are secretly a deranged psycho mass murderer and never told me.” Mello remarked dryly, with the faintest hints of sarcasm. It was clear just by tone that he can’t wait for this day to be over.

“Oh come on. I’m not talking about ‘who built the maze’, don’t you remember those times when Roger would use mazes for the finals?”

“He, right. I remember now, that old man used to get so frustrated when we solved it after like one second.” Mello fondly remarked. Recollecting the simplicity of a time with Kira, when he was still living in Wammy House with a daily routine that could by no means be called normal, but was the closest thing to domesticity that Mello ever had or will ever have. 

The test, the exams, and the lessons. It all blurred together, into this simple shade of calm and relaxation. 

He had always liked the mazes, Mello thought to himself. 

“So this will be a piece of cake for the three of us, right? We’ll be out of here in no time!” Linda cheerfully said, but something came to Mello’s mind.

Maybe he had been too overwhelmed to question anything when he just got out of his cell but after some time he had finally found something strange about this situation.

“… Linda?” Linda’s smile dropped at Mello’s tone.

“Yes, Mello?” 

“Did you memorize the layout of this place before you came and bailed me out or did you break into my cell not knowing where the emergency exists during a facility lockdown?”

Silence. Damning, uncomfortable silence.

“Answer me.”

“I…” Before Linda could formulate a positive response that wouldn’t make Mello freak out, L cut in the conversation to help her.

“There weren’t any emergency exits, this path is the closest to the nearest wall that we can obliterate for the purpose of escape. And unfortunately, that includes traversing the labyrinth that Kira built. I had hoped it wouldn’t have come to this and that we were able to get out before the lockdown. You like explosions, don’t you Mello?”

“Sure I love explosions. You want me to blast through the walls?”

“No.” L firmly commanded, “That would draw too much attention to us. And some of these walls here are supposed to act as pillars, supporting the ceiling from collapsing. It would be unfortunate if we accidentally detonated the incorrect wall and injured ourselves in the process of escaping. I’d imagine that would slow us down quite a bit.”

“Okay, so what’s your plan L?”

“There is a wall at the end of the maze that was supposed to be a dead end, I would like you to explode that wall.”

“We still need to go into this creepy trap-filled maze?”

L hummed affirmatively, while he walked into the left corridor, most likely assuming that Mello would follow him after a small tantrum.

“Damn it!” Mello swore angrily, he kicked the nearby wall letting out his frustration. Linda slowly came next to Mello putting a comforting hand on his shoulder, “Mello, listen. I know that today is a really bad day for you. But the sooner we finish this, the sooner we get to go. Besides, we have L with us, I’m sure we’ll be out in no time!”

Mello scoffed and brushed Linda’s hand off his shoulder. “You keep saying that, but we are nowhere near freedom. In fact, we have a whole fucking maze in front of us!” Linda shrugged, following in L’s footsteps, heading towards the left.

“Well. Someone’s got to keep their spirits up. Hope is the only thing we have in this place.” 

Belatedly Mello followed behind Linda, sighing rather loudly before speeding up to catch up to her. 

The first thing L did when he got to the other side of the corridor was to put his ear on the nearby wall, and after a few seconds, he continued to take the left, bypassing what Mello can tell to be a room full of buttons. Before stopping suddenly right in front of the entrance of a room full of levers, staring at it like it held the secrets of the universe inside.

Fully used to L’s weird quirks by now, Mello peered into the room he dubbed ‘The Lever Room’, trying to see what was so interesting about it. He stepped closer trying to get a better view, but he was pulled back by L who grabbed him by the scruff of his neck.

“What the hell?!” Mello cried, spinning back to glare at L, but when he turned his back to the room, a heavy metallic sound and something slammed closed together behind him. L inhaled, and grabbing Mello with a gentle but firm grip, he dragged him to take another turn before picking up his pace, turning his walk into a sprint. Linda followed fast behind them.

“The drones.” L explained, and Mello understood. He must have triggered something when he stepped so close to the stupid room of levers. It was one of Kira’s traps. Kira was a tricky little bastard after all.

Soon enough the buzzing sound of a drone was heard, and the group ran faster, trying to get out of the enclosed maze. They all couldn't afford to get hit by any of the bullets, so they ran like hell was at their heels.

Mello panted as his legs strained to carry him to safety. He had been right when he predicted today was only going to get worse, Mello thought cynically.

When Kiyomi woke up she was gasping, her body felt like it was on fire and her clothes were stuck to her skin uncomfortably due to sweat. She was lying on some soft surface, She faintly noted, a bed maybe, and she wasn’t tied to it. But that was impossible because the last thing the rebels would do was untie her. Then she remembered. Bright lights, people shouting, loud police sirens, and fast footsteps. She was rescued. 

As she remembered what happened to her, her heartbeat began to gradually calm down. Her eyes were less wild, and her face more serene. She observed the room silently. 

There was a window with white curtains to block out the sun, two chairs placed adjacent to each other with a table between them. The room was plainly furnished and rather small but it was clean and she predicted that she’d be staying in a bed for the rest of her stay here anyways. 

Kiyomi was glad that despite how much Kira-sama was disappointed in her, he still came to save her. Well, not him personally, but she knew that God’s work was much more important than someone like her and didn’t expect Kira-sama to come and save her from the rebel’s fiendish clutch anyways.

It was just that after Light— No Kira-sama chose to marry that ditzy girl instead of her. She felt that she was not as important to him as she had thought she was. Maybe Kira-sama was just using her after all. But it wasn’t like that… Really. Kira-sama saved her, he was the benevolent god that is just and righteous. It would be foolish to doubt him. 

It was all Misa’s fault! Putting such doubts about her god inside Kiyomi’s mind. If Misa didn’t exist, she’d be the one being Goddess of The New World. Not that she wasn’t happy with being Kira’s spokeswoman. It was just that Kira-sama had once promised her that she was the one he truly loved. But he married Misa, not her…… 

The doorknob of her door shook, and the door creaked. A young man with a charming smile wearing a suit walked in, Light! 

“You came…?” Kiyomi asked, full of hope and a tinge of disbelief. Her Light just smiled, walking towards her. He pulled the chair closer to her hospital bed, sitting next to her. 

“Of course, I’ve been so worried about you, Kiyomi. I don’t know what I’d do if something terrible had happened to you.” Kira-sama said care lacing his every word, but there was something inside his voice that Kiyomi can’t quite place.

“I… Kira-sama, I don’t know what to say… I had thought…” 

“That just because I married Misa that I no longer care for you anymore?” Kira-sama asked, pinpointing her insecurities in one sentence.

 “Oh, Kiyomi.” Kira sighed, “It’s because of how much I love you that I cannot marry you. How can I possibly put the women I love through so much pressure?” He said in a condescending manner, but Kiyomi, so blinded by her intense emotions, didn't notice. She didn’t notice how her precious Light’s lips rose in a slight snare, how his eyes narrowed at her in arrogance.

“Light… I.. I don’t know what to say.” 

“It’s okay, Kiyomi. I understand.” Light smiled at her softly, patting her hand. “Rest, I’ll be back to visit. Alright?” 

“Alright…” She replied hesitantly. Light gave her another small smile before slipping out of her room.

L held another drone that flew too close to the group back with a piece of the wall before twisting and flinging it to the drones that were chasing them taking out most of the group. The remaining drones all twitched, and with sparks of light flying out their exposed wires, they hesitated so L took that short time given to pick up his pace, he followed Mello into the next turn. 

“You’re stronger than you look.” Mello commented when he stopped to catch his breath. L stared blankly back at him, before averting his eyes. Mello stumbled and L steadied the teen with his strength, putting a hand on to his shoulder and helping him to a nearby wall. 

“Mmhm,” L hummed in agreement. “I hope that was enough to stop them. Perhaps we will have to run a bit more if they decide to chase us again.” He paused and observed the surroundings around him, “The exit is just at the next turn.” 

“Oh thank god. I don’t think I can run anymore. This is the most I have ever exercised in my life .”

And that was probably true Linda preferred artistic indoor activity rather than any physical outdoor training. Her grades weren’t ever high in that area, however, she compensated for that with her artistic skills. Linda bent over, she wheezed heavily for air. Perspiration was gleaming on her skin, she looked like she just came back from hell.

After a while, she finally got back up. Mello, who was leaning his weight back on the wall, had also just finished catching his breath, straightened up and smoothed out his crumpled leather jacket, taking it off and tying the black jacket around his waist.

“Yeah,” Mello breathed in wincing as he leaned his weight fully onto his legs, his burning, aching legs. “I definitely tore something important.” He gently massaged the burning area of his hurt legs as Linda and L stared in relative concern.

“Mello, go to the infirmary once we get back to the base.” L commanded, Mello groaned in miserable agony.

“But L,” Mello whined like a small bratty child instead of the teenage genius that he is, “I’m fine, it’s literally just a little pain.” 

“Mello, the human body is more fragile than you think it is.” L monotoned, “Go to the infirmary once we get back to the base.” L softly coaxed despite his firm sentence.

“Yeah, yeah okay, ‘world’s greatest detective’.” Mello groaned and playfully rolled his eyes. He knew that his mentor was really just concerned for him, but it still didn’t mean that he gets a free pass when he orders Mello to suffer through the dull mindless task of staring at the fucking blank ass white ceiling for a whole week. He at least has to sass L a little if has to suffer through that indignity. “Never knew you were such a fucking mother hen, L.” 

“Mm. Mello?”

“What, L?” 

“Never call me that again, please.” L requested before wandering towards the exit.

And as Mello followed L, his every step taking him closer to his wished freedom, something like hope swelled in his chest. Walking in front of the smooth wall, he smirked playfully as he took the small stick of dynamite and the lighter in L’s hand. 

“Huh. Where did you even keep this thing?” Mello asked as he tinkered with the lighter, its flames flickering before stabilising for a small moment and disappearing again. 

“You'd be surprised what you can store in pant pockets.” L said mysteriously before he hid behind the nearest turn for shelter.

Mello chuckled in amusement, before raising his lighter to meet the trigger of the dynamite. After it was lit he threw it onto the ground, bolting for the cover with L and Linda who were also waiting there.

Linda was the first one to come out of their makeshift bomb shelter, grateful beyond relief that they have reach the end, Mello following fast after her. 

“This can’t be it, it’s way too easy,” Mello questioned but he still moved towards the exit he just made. 

“Hey don’t be such a pessimist, Mells. Maybe Kira isn’t such a genius after all...” Linda trails off and suddenly froze in her place. Mello, catching on to the tense atmosphere, stopped alongside her as he stared over her shoulder to see many suited figures holding guns. 

“Fuck.” Mello swore, just when he thought this day was going to be over.