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So far so good. I created a distraction for Mells. He can handle the hostage and cronies on his end. Now I just need to lose these fucking bodyguards.
They were hot on my tail. But I was faster. Way faster. For a moment, I’ve lost them. It’s just me, my car, and the open road.
I wonder…did we choose the right plan? Fuck, I dunno. Mells is the brains, and I’m sure as hell not. But I’m not the brawn either. I’m just the lazy computer geek behind the operation. I just follow the boss’ orders. It’s not my place to question. Thinking back, maybe I should’ve.
Fuck…this isn’t the time for retrospection. What the hell would I even look back on? There’s so much to consider.
The early days. Parents. Loss. A lot of tears.
A childhood in an orphanage. Fighting. Playing. Getting into trouble.
Becoming one of L’s successors. Studying. Failing. Mountains of homework.
Making friends. Mello. Near. The people I care about most.
Good memories. Goofing off with Near. Pranking Roger. Scaring Mells with my bug collection.
Bad memories. Falling out of a tree. Getting a rash from English ivy. L’s death…
Mello and I departing from Wammy’s.
Leaving Near behind.
Near…
Regrets? I have thousands. Leaving Near alone was one of the worst.
Another was letting Mells concoct this plan. It’s pretty damn risky. Honestly, I wanted no part of his vendetta against Near and Kira. But, it’s a hell of a lot easier to bow my head and let it happen. There’s no use in fighting it. It was all inevitable.
Fuck.
Above all of that, I wish I hadn’t let things get weird between Mells and Near. If anyone had seen them before all this, they’d never know about the bad blood. They were friends before I came to Wammy’s.
All of that is ancient history. But, really, what could I have done different? Could I have really changed anything?
I dunno. Wishful thinking.
Before long, I light a cig and take a long drag. It calms me down. Much better. I relax against the bucket seat.
Near, I wonder. What is it you plan to do on the 28th? Have you thought everything through? Are you prepared for what Kira has in store? Hell, what about the curveball Mello and I are lobbing your way? Have you considered that, too?
I just hope you’ll be fine without us, y’know, in case something goes awry. What am I thinking? Near will be fine. He’s been fine since we left.
Right?
Fuck.
I’m not even close to done with this cig and I’m already craving another.
Mello. How are things on your end? If all goes to plan, I’ll get away, and you’ll hide Takada.
Then we were gonna grab a bite at that restaurant you like. They always make the best sandwiches. Would be nice to be back at the apartment right now, scarfing down a meal with Mells.
TV playing in the background. That one cat screeching all hours of the night. The space heater running with the faint smell of burning dust. Mells will complain, tell me to clean it. I’ll shrug and act like I didn’t hear ‘im.
I sigh. If only. If only things were different.
Fuck.
What’s the use? Regrets or not, this is what I’m doing now. I gotta see it through to the end.
I check the rearview mirror. Damn. They’ve already caught up. I pause at an intersection. They’ve got me What to do now?
I really shouldn’t be underestimating these guys. They see Kiyomi Takada as some sort of prophet. Just means they're all a bunch of crazy cult members. Though, it’d be really stupid of me to think crazy cults won’t resort to violence. Even so, I doubt they have any guns on ‘em. It’s illegal for anyone but the police to have arms in Japan.
But, even if they do, they won’t shoot me. They’ll try to get information outta me, see who I’m working for. They definitely want me alive.
I open the door. Just one more puff for courage, then I toss it to the ground.
Even if they try something funny, I got an insurance plan loaded and ready to fire.
I stand up slowly. I close the car door. I notice each one has a gun in their hands. Instinctively, I lift my own into the air.
Fuck. I really didn’t expect them to have guns.
Don’t worry. You’ll be fine, Matt. For now, I should be fine; I’m unarmed as far as they can tell.
Maybe running away isn’t an option anymore. Yeah, maybe I can convince them to take me in. I’d rather not get booked, but it beats getting my brains smeared onto the pavement.
I can do this; I know I can. But, once I start talking, the countdown begins. I have to speak calmly, rationally, and persuasively.
I can do this. I can do this. I have to do this.
I compose myself. Finally. That’s my cue to talk. I part my lips, words locked and loaded.
It’s now or never.
Let’s begin.