Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The claustrophobic hallway exuded an aura of death as madden prisoners jeered, howled and stared from behind staunch bars. A stale, wrenched stench seeped from every crack until the scent was nearly visible with a lingering aftertaste. A small, sturdy wooden oak chair was placed in the end of the hallway; isolated and out of place. The set-up was crude, but it fitted with the classless stone walls and the hospital did not particularly care for the comfort of the invading police force.

Light Yagami headed to the chair, taking care to present himself as confident and ready. A decorated pen gleamed from its place in his breast pocket when the dim light struck it at the right angle. Light reached up to brush back a piece of hair—perhaps it was out of nervousness, or perhaps it was out of place. He highly doubted that his audience was sane enough to differentiate between brown or black hair, or care if the invader was confident, but it was habitual to look his best. When he passed the fourth cell, the contained prisoner suddenly cackled, as if struck by Nitrous oxide.

"Another young rookie sent to the big bad wolf! Oh, I bet you won't last three minutes with your pretty, pretty face," the crooked, toothless grin dripped pity, scorn and mania. He reached up his hands, bringing up grim and jagged nails, as if welcoming a younger relative for a hug. Light pointedly walked past the prisoner. He had set his eyes on the end of the hallway and he refused to take in any of the demented men damned to life-confinement. Despite his discomfort and the obvious lack of tack in the place, Light was sent to do a job, and he would do the job well. A loud rattle told him that the man threw himself at the metal bars. Even the clinically insane didn't like being ignored.

Light glanced at his gold watch when he straightened his shirt and took a seat. It was exactly 5:00, and the next hour of his life would be wasted in this hell hole, attempting a civilized conversation with the most uncivilized maniac Jarreston Hospital for the Criminally Insane had to offer. Across from him, and behind a three-inch-thick reinforced glass wall, Beyond Birthday's still figure crouched on a crass bed with his head down, eyes glued to his knees. All Light could see was the ugly striped prison garb, a shock of wild, black hair and pale fingers that gripped the raised knees. A neatly folded blanket sat next to man. Light noticed that everything in the small cell – toothbrush, small plastic cup, blanket, towel, and a pillow – was neatly arranged and orderly.

Light settled himself, crossed his legs as he pulled out a note pad, and removed the pen from his breast pocket. He took note of the air holes on the glass wall, and a foot-long slot for passing items on the side. The cell was nearly air-tight. When he clicked the pen, the other's head slowly raised. Beyond Birthday still had the looks of a well-groomed civilian; perhaps a little underweight, but clearly passable for a random man in society. Certainly a change from the rest of the hospital's occupants, and Light supposed that a notoriously brilliant murderer had to have some sense of self-maintenance. Light tilted his head lightly, brown hair shifting noiselessly across his pale forehead as he finally met Beyond's black eyes.

It was intense – black, liquid fire meeting his own pretentious, chocolate eyes. Beyond's eyes radiated fierce confidence, sanity, and intelligence despite the foolish outfit and uncombed hair. As Beyond stared, a leer formed on his face, creeping slowly until his mouth was upturned in something that was not a welcoming smile. Light refused to let surprise or annoyance register on his face or body. Instead, he forced the contempt to fuel a calm superiority within him that allowed his smile to grow wider and friendlier. Light crowned himself a master of both noticeable and unnoticeable body language— here, he somehow knew his skills would put to test.

Leaning back slightly so he appeared even more relaxed, Light held the gaze and spoke in English, "Hello, Beyond Birthday. My name is Michael, and I'm here to speak to you, a privilege the hospital kindly extended to one guest in our department."

Light had picked a common American name. In Los Angeles, 'Michael' would be unsuspicious and Light saw no reason to divulge his own name. He had heard rumors that Beyond had an uncanny power to guess the name of anyone in his sight. Whether it was true or not, Light would see—he doubt Beyond would keep the knowledge to himself. When Beyond didn't reply, Light forced himself not to fidget or cast doubt on his ability to speak English. He knew, to a point of arrogance, that his English was nearly flawless. He noticed with his peripheral vision, that Beyond's right index finger jerked slightly, leaving it half an inch from its initial position. To Light, it meant a reaction – Beyond heard him. Beyond's eyes slowly trailed up, staring at a spot above Light's head before returning to capture his gaze. The man still refused to speak, clearly not interested at small-talk.

"This will get boring if you want to play the goody-goody two shoes mute," Light said. He hoped that a strike to the man's pride would entice something vocal from the man. In his idleness, Light wondered what the man would sound like. From the compelling stare and orderly room, Light would place his bet on a clear and low voice.

"Should I melt or should I turn to stone?" Light jibed three minutes later, allowing something akin to a whine slip into his voice. He remained completely still, gazing across the room fixedly, only moving his mouth. The childish, haughty words completely contradicted with his relaxed body posture. Mismatched communication was an unspoken challenge and taunt that tended to irritate even the most controlled stoics. Light knew this would get a verbal reaction. When Beyond spoke, his voice was indeed, clear and low.

"Little boy," the black haired male spoke in perfect, unaccented Japanese. "I speak your language better than you speak mine."

If Light was surprised at the fact that Beyond knew his ethnicity, his body did not betray him. Tension gripped the room as Light simply nodded and conversed, slipping back into his native tongue, "I should thank you for indulging me, then."

"I indulge you, and you indulge me. I speak for you, and you change to the language of my choice like a puppet," Beyond replied immediately, a sheen of unveiled triumph gleaming from his eyes. Here, he sat a little straighter, bringing his thumb to his mouth. His left foot shifted at the movement, creating a new crease in the black and white garment. As Light watched, he bit his thumb lightly and spoke around the digit, malice leaking from his eyes, "I should also thank you for not subjecting me to your horrendous English."

Light had a split-second to respond. In the split-second, he narrowed his choice of response from six possibilities to two equally appealing choices – retort with malignity or play it like a fool. He opted for the latter since he was here for information, not immature banter. Without missing a beat, he held his hands out, palm open, accompanied with a half shrug, "I apologize, but now that we've settled the difference, perhaps we can move on."

"Oh no. We've more differences than that. I envy you, you know. You have the freedom of the outside world, a world of Light and joy," Beyond smiled, an ostentatious display of friendliness.

"Slitting a few less throats tends to grant people a tad more freedom," Light said. An equally false lilt of light-hearted cheer entered Light's voice to mingle with his normally serious voice. Light didn't miss the stress on the word 'Light' and concluded to himself that, Beyond, indeed, was able to guess or know anyone's name. Light refused to allow the fact to make him nervous – it was definitely a question for another day. At the response, Beyond's facial expression shifted slightly. The smile edged into something slightly more genuine, and immensely more amused.

"Light Yagami," he breathed, removing his thumb from his mouth, body rising slightly as if preparing for an attack. "Since I came here four years ago, there have been one-hundred and eighty-six chances for me to escape. I came up with twenty-two methods I could use to attain freedom any day."

Light Yagami did not flinch when the expected name was thrown at him. Ludicrous as it sounded, Light Yagami had no doubt that every word Beyond spoke was true. The man simply did not seem the type to exaggerate his ability – he was too proud. Light also knew that the expected reaction was shock, fear, skepticism, or, to the bravest men, curiosity. He decided not to satisfy Beyond's expectations; it was not as though Beyond would satisfy his curiosity. The statement was meant to be a display of superiority, an attack meant to strike a point, and hope to land his opponent in trepidation. For some reason, Light felt the briefest sense of thrill course through his body. He tilted his head, as if in curiosity, but proceeded to swiftly switch the topic – a clear dismissal at Beyond's impossible accomplishments.

"I think I am supposed to ask if you found your surrounding comfortable," Light said smoothly. This time, Beyond didn't hide his irritation, and Light didn't hide a small smirk tugging at the corner of his lip. Beyond's abyssal-black eyes narrowed in annoyance while Light's own widen slightly in amusement.

"One day," Beyond hissed. Then, suddenly, his demeanor morphed into something calm and relaxed. His voice grew distant, and a hand reached up to swipe at a piece of stray black hair that fell into his eyes. He turned his head up, pale throat fully exposed as he languidly raked his fingers down his face. His thumb resumed its former position at his mouth. "Humans will learn to ask less useless questions, and we'll all have fewer throats torn out."

"Was that your punishment for the inquirers or was that a simple declaration?"

"Let's not play coy. That cheap question was meant to place motive behind some of my actions, right?"

"A few dozen investigators questioned you. You don't have much of a pattern or motive, do you?" Light had thoroughly read the thirty something reports on Beyond. They were equally uninformative, equally useless, and Light had trouble reading some of the shaky handwriting. Light pitied the fools who pitted their feeble mind against Beyond. Despite his iron self-control, he had to admit the man was slightly discerning. The man, in the two years before his capture, had brutally murdered over two hundred people — seemingly without reason. However, Light himself fully accepted entertainment as a possible reason for the psychopath.

"Light, Light, yehiy 'or," Beyond easily slipped into the ancient language before returning to Japanese. Suddenly, he snapped his head forward, his eyes shining with heated mirth. "Let's play a game. Me and you. Quid pro Quo."

The challenge hung unanswered in the air before Light blinked slowly, as if considering the challenge. He uncrossed his legs, and re-crossed them again– reversing the positions his legs were crossed. Once again, something very close to excitement modified his posture, sending jolts of electric adrenaline down his spine. He went with it, leaning forward and slipped his pen and notepad back into his pocket. He never planned to take notes anyway – eidetic memory had its perks.

"Perhaps it would work if you inform me the rules."

"San-gu-is Bi-bi-mus. Cor-pus E-di-mus," once again, it was a challenge, a battle of words, using the language itself.

"Cannibalism is too messy for my taste," Light replied, careful to choose words that implied moral neutrality. He ran his hands down a ceaseless pant leg on the pretense of smoothing it out with excruciating attention. Language was yet another strength of his, and he himself never forgot a single word, in any language, that he heard or saw. Beyond did not reply for nearly three minutes, his whole body perfectly still. He only blinked ten times, Light counted.

Light thought about provoking him again, but he did not want to seem desperate. He was directed to spend a month interrogating the killer, with very little imposed expectations. After all, everyone had expected him to be driven insane within a week; many more seasoned investigators had long given up. The only movement Light made was a glance at his watch. He had forty-five minutes until the hospital demanded his leave.

"I spent the first week plotting my first twelve escape plans. I spent the next four years wondering what to do if I got out. I came up with nothing, so I stayed," Beyond finally said. "Cannibalism may prove to be worth my time."

"I don't think so."

"I'd start with you, Light-chan. You look damn edible."

"Cannibalism won't suit you," Light met Beyond's leer with a slight raise of eyebrow, ignoring the mocking honorific. Light had previously observed that the skin on Beyond's thumb, despite the compulsive biting, was perfectly intact and unscarred. Lowering his gaze until he traced Beyond's lips and thumb with his eyes, Light murmured softly, "You don't bite very hard. I will guess you prefer soft food, and as such, won't enjoy chewing through human skin."

Beyond laughed— sharp metal against stone. His laugh rose and roared in volume until a subtle chill gripped the bottom of Light's neck. It sliced through the air with inhuman strength until it turned into a choppy, choked hack. Beyond fell back, landing on his back on the small bed before ricocheting over to his side. The previously neat blanket rumpled as it met Beyond's jerking body. The pillow fell off the bed. Yet still, he laughed.

Suddenly, he stopped, and the silence caused more strain. The other prisoners were startled, and they both listened to the panicked cries. Light vaguely heard someone hissed 'Beyond'. When the noise died down, Beyond sat up, wiping his hand across his mouth, thumb lifting a trail of saliva that he then flung at the glass wall. It splattered as Beyond took up his previous crouch, legs apart and arms on knees.

"You're right. I'll tell you, my favorite is jam; strawberry jam. But do you know, Light Yagami?" He tilted his head, bangs sweeping across his forehead. He licked his lip as he intentionally raked his eyes over Light's pose. "You look soft enough to be eaten."

"I nearly mistook that for flattery," Light said, false gentleness and soft mockery interlaced with genuine amusement.

"What are little boys made of? Frogs and snails and puppy-dogs' tails," Beyond quoted softly, voice slightly muffled by the thumb in his mouth. He rolled his hips once, causing a movement that resembled a stationed hop. Three new creases formed on his uniform. "I can smell your vanilla soap from here. You'll taste like artificial vanilla, won't you? Bitter, bitter, husky, and nasty. I'll have to clean you well if I want to eat you."

If Light felt disgusted at all, he didn't show it. Beyond's keen sense of observation picked up a slight tense in Light's shoulders before it relaxed. Beyond was…nearly impressed. Never had another human, since his incarnation, been so endurably amusing. Before Light, the longest amount of time it took to crack his interrogator had been exactly twenty-one minute. The shortest was less than 15 second. He merely greeted the man with his given name, and the fool ran away, foot faster than the laughter that followed. And Light still maintained his obviously forged, ridiculously relaxed pose, his eyes as calm and intelligent as they had been when he first went in. Beyond felt exhilarated, the feeling manifested into a hard bite down on his thumb.

"What was the game you proposed previously?" Again, clear dismissal without any spoken reaction.

"Light-chan, we're both liars. Liar, liar, pants on fire," Beyond sang. Light looked at his watch again. Beyond guessed that the hour the hospital usually allowed was more than half over. "If there is a next time, we'll play."

"I never agreed to play. I only inquired the rules."

"A very simple game. Question for question. Answer for answer. Truth for truth. Quid pro Quo." Beyond's eyes glinted a maniacal glee, tongue darting past his lips and thumb to run over his upper lips. "Don't pretend to think, I know you'll agree."

Light agreed, which he conveyed with a slight nod. If anything, it would be interesting, and Light prided himself to be an impeccable liar as well as lie detector. He knew each and every sign of a liar, from the obvious tilts to the more obscure slight facial muscle movements. Not to mention, he knew exactly how to twist any truth, and withheld crucial facts.

"Oh, you're thinking, but you shouldn't bother," Beyond grinned. "Do you know, you always suck your lower lip in slightly when you're thinking but not talking? And, your blinking slows down by roughly half a second when you're thinking and talking. If you lie to me, or toy with the truth, I'd know right away."

"Half-a-second? Did you pull that from your ass?"

"That was my lie. That you didn't detect," Beyond stated it in a tone of voice similar to a teacher lecturing a student.

Light took a deep breath to calm himself down before the irritation got to him, "Praise, that was the most brilliant lie I've heard."

Light paused for a second, observing the lines in the rumbled blanket next to the man serenely. There was 19 minutes left to this session, if he was right, and he was never wrong with his internal clock. The first fact the man stated was a habit he recognized himself; he could feel the pressure as his tongue pressed lightly against the inside of his mouth. Light had not expected Beyond to notice a fact that no other human, not even his perceptive father, ever noticed.

Light gasped slightly as something landed on his lap. In the moments he took his eyes of the black haired man, the man had snatched and threw something at him – the toothbrush. The thin handle sailed through the air-holes in the glass wall smoothly, and Light grudgingly admit that Beyond had a great aim.

"So Light-chan can be caught off guard," Beyond said as Light gingerly picked up the toothbrush.

Light was relieved to find it not coated in a layer of undesirable liquid, "Beyond-san truly likes being the center of attention, does he not?"

"You're one to speak, Light-chan," Beyond shrugged, and spread his knees until he crouched with his elbows between his legs, one hand sliding down to grip the edge of the bed. "Your presentation – clothes, hair, and everything; how you pay attention to your body language and words. You love standing on a pedestal where everyone could worship you and grovel at your feet."

"I could simply be super-conscious of myself," he argued, more for the entertainment of playing Devil's Advocate than to pose a true argument.

"No, Light-chan. You walk with the air of an arrogant man. You ignored the maniac that warned you of me, didn't you? He was far too low for your attention."

"If you classify every man that chooses to ignore a maniacal fool as arrogant, the world has quite the problem with hubris," Light said.

"Doesn't the world? Every human lay claims to some obscure form of virtues, most without knowledge of the meaning of the word itself."

"Does it bother you?"

"No, and I do not indulge in human morality. I also do not see the point of interrupting another when he is making a mistake. Like you, Light-chan. Speaking to me, will be the greatest mistake of your life." Beyond sounded nearly regretful – as if Light's misfortune would bring him unhappiness. As Light watched, Beyond slid his thumb out of his mouth and down his throat, tilting his head to look at Look through hooded eyes. The thumb stopped to violently cut a horizontal line across the middle, and left a trail of glistening saliva behind. A painless imitation of a knife's mark, before it rose to meet Beyond's mouth again.

"You cannot break me, Beyond," Light followed the movement with interest, but he was not afraid.

"If you break, that will be a pity, and not fun. It will most delightful to watch you struggle with the fact that I will rip your self-control out, drug your sensibility, and violate your soul."

"Pride goes before destruction, And a haughty spirit before stumbling," Light quoted as reversed his legs again, and crossed one arm to grip the other by the elbow. He knew the move could be seen as defensive, but he didn't care. Thirteen more minutes, and he'd have a whole night to reflect, plan, and deal accordingly. The move caused Beyond's eyes to light up.

"You're finally showing yourself; am I right to say our time is almost up?" Beyond smirked. The thumb he was chewing up left his mouth to join his other hand on the edge of the bed. "I hope your girlfriend cooks you a nice meal when you get home."

"Girlfriend?"

"Your tie, Light-chan. You didn't pick it out yourself."

"Even if you're right, anyone else could have done it," Light saw it another opportunity to probe the man—grasp a thin line of thought in the man's mind. He was careful to avoid giving away information about his family.

"When the cost is equivalent to a fur jacket? Not a mother's or older woman's taste. A man usually does not give another a tie. It's a little too fancy to be a friend's gift. So, a girlfriend."

Indeed, his girlfriend gave him the tie. Satisfied with the response, Light rewarded him with a small nod. There was little point in hiding the fact. The arm on his lap rose to hover over the pen in his breast pocket, not quite a touch.

"You don't love the poor girl, do you?" Amusement rang clearly from Beyond's voice. It transversed the distance with a confidence that made Light glare at the man – the first time the shield in his eyes lowered.

"Why would she be my girlfriend, then?" Light winced as he said it. To answer a question with a question was one of the most obvious forms of evasion. The drab surrounding and Beyond seemed to have made his mind a little less sharp.

"No denial," Beyond cackled. He leaned forward, looking ready to propel himself. "See, in this hour, you've touched every single article of clothing on yourself…except your tie. You made a big show of smoothing out none existent lines in your shirt and pants whenever you felt particularly bored. Yet, you didn't do the most common – straightening out your tie."

"I could simply not have the habit," Light's voice was tight. "You are accusing me of not loving my girlfriend because I don't fix my tie when it is still in shape. Watch how silly you sound."

"Light-chan, yet again, you did not deny the claim. You can't just disagree and say that you love her, can you?" Beyond licked his lips, mirth dancing in his ruthless eyes. "People usually touch what gives them the most comfort – most would go for the most expensive piece. You don't want to think about the girl, so you don't touch her gift, right? Poor girl."

"Certain humans also do not like toying with their most valuable possession." It was a fact.

"Out of insecurity of losing or breaking it, but Light-chan is not a very insecure person, is he?"

Light held Beyond's eyes as he fingered his tie lightly, loosened the knot before he pulled it tight again. Then he ran a hand down the silk fabric, and wished that the last ten minutes would pass faster.

"Oh, let's change the topic," Beyond said simply. The unspoken words rang clearly to Light. Beyond was on par with Light in terms of brilliance and reading individuals, and now he proved it. For the third time, Light felt the explicit grip of excitement course through him. Suddenly, he looked forward to this month with daily, hour-long visits to the mass murderer.

"Last time, a young man from Japan interviewed me. I asked him, what is interesting. He told me, a phantom murderer—killed without a trace, very bloody, nasty piece of work. Can Light-chan humor me?"

Light was not sure if he wanted to keep the prisoner up to date with crime news, but he figured it could not prove to be useful. He himself had nothing else to talk about, "It was a matter of giving the victims a medicine that kept their body fresh to throw off the time of death. Case closed."

"You caught her," Beyond stated.

"You're creating a rather bad habit of blind guesses, but why did you say that" Light asked, his head tilting lightly as he blinked slowly. He had, indeed, caught the murderer after accurate deduction of the correct time and location. He did not know how Beyond knew, but he guessed that something in his body language gave a brief shift in pride.

"How old is Light Yagami?" Beyond changed the topic again. Light immediately detected the genuine desire to know, and retorted with an inquiry of his own.

"Tell me about a murder the police don't know about," Light said. As much as he had burning questions of his own, it would be far more impressive to dig out unknown information.

"So quick, Light-chan, so quick. You live to please, don't you? On your knees to please," Beyond drawled, sing-song voice in tune with hands that reached up to grab his own neck. "A little boy. He was very annoying, very loud; kept complaining about being cold."

"So?"

"I gave him anti-freeze." Beyond gripped his own throat, tightening his hands until his voice strung tight with the lack of oxygen. His eyes laughed as they bugged out. "You can find his body for evidence…if you look deep enough into the Atlantics Ocean."

Then he released his throat, and dropped his arm on his knees until hands dangled harmlessly from his knees. Light felt sick, for the first time. It suddenly occurred to him that, brilliant or not, the man in front of him was a monster in the form of a human with bright, charcoal eyes and tousled ebony hair. Yet, he could not deny that he was amused.

"I'm twenty-two."

"How many women have complimented Light-chan's looks? How many men?" Beyond asked. It wasn't a question, and Light didn't answer. Beyond trailed his eyes over Light's body, took immense delight in the way the muscle tightened briefly wherever his eyes roamed.

The alarm rang once to indicate that his hour was up, and Light stood to leave. He ran his hand through his hair again. This time, he knew it was for assurance.

"Did Light-chan enjoy his visit?"

"Many wealthy men would pay for ten minutes in my position," Light smiled softly, deliberate sarcasm used to evade the question.

Both men knew, and both knew the answer he did not give.

"Will you return my toothbrush? Will I see you again?" Beyond asked. He stood up, walked to the glass wall, and two fingers slid through two nearby air holes.

Light bended to pick up the toothbrush by the handle. He twirled it once in his hands before he answered; with a single, calm syllable "No."

He walked away, not bothering to inform Beyond Birthday of the month's arrangements. After all, he owed the man one lie.

Quid Pro Quo.

When he walked past the fourth cell, he took a moment to glance at the rabid man, who deliriously spoke to himself. It was hard to believe that the scum and Beyond lived in the same place. He tossed the toothbrush into the cell, through the metal bars, and admired his own aim as the stick directly landed on the man's lap.

By the time the toothless, hairy face turned, Light was out of the shadowy hallway.

Chapter Text

When Light left the prison-hospital, the staff gave him a look that clearly said 'You look sane. What's wrong?' He simply strutted past, a hand reaching up to comb through his always neat hair. He made it a point to straighten his tie again, fingers sliding over the exquisite silk, even though he knew Beyond wasn't watching. Light glanced at this watch once he was cleared of the hospital's holding cells. The path from the dark holding cells –from Beyond's prison— to the main hospital lobby took exactly 4 minutes and forty eight seconds to walk.

If anyone was surprised that Inspector Light Yagami survived an hour with Beyond Birthday with his mind intact, they did not show the surprise by the time Light took a slow look around the lobby.

Light simply signed out, and hailed a taxi back to the apartment he rented. He didn't feel like walking. Somehow, the conversation with Beyond had exhausted him physically as well.

He told the driver his address, and the vehicle moved. Light turned unseeing eyes to the streets and dully noticed the colors fly by. One day down, twenty-nine more to go. His father told him that these sessions would help him capture a criminal mindset better, and allow him to better predict a criminal's movement. It would lead to more successful cases, he said. Light had kindly reminded the Chief that he had yet to be stumped, but his father remained adamant.

"Your English is very good for an Asian guy. Grew up here?"

Light supposed the driver was the talking type – friendly professionalism with the intention of slipping his customer a business card; a suggestive 'Use me again next time'.

"No." And that was that. Light crossed his legs and stared out the window. This time, he focused on the labels and stores to emit a clear 'Do not talk to me'.

The clear message wasn't a challenge the taxi driver had the desire (or mind) to tame, and Light was left in peace. His mind drifted back to a certain man with dark, highly intelligent eyes and messy raven hair. Suddenly, the intensity of the event in the past hour struck him. He remembered the pale, long fingers wrapped around that throat, tightening, as Beyond casually described a life he took.

Suppressing a shudder, Light promised himself he would think about it later –if he had to think about it at all. The taxi in the middle of the busy Los Angeles was too public of a place to think about Beyond Birthday.

When the cab pulled in front of his apartment twenty minutes later, though the rather heavy traffic, Light nods in confirmation.

"Sir, the fare—"

Light hands the man a twenty dollar bill. American money had always been unusual compared to Japanese Yen.

"Keep the $6.50 change." Flat, confident words.

The driver looked spooked enough to jump out of his seat. He nervously placed the bill into his jean pocket and glanced at Light. Light ignored the uneasiness that radiated off the man and opened the door. He felt slightly better and less exhausted. At least the rest of the world was not a calculating genius. At least the rest of the world was predictable and easily oppressed.

Before he closed the door, he turned to the driver once again, "I'll like your business card."

The driver feverishly nodded, and began digging through the pile at in front of the cup holder. Two inches worth of paper fell into the passenger seat before the driver pulled out a card.

"Sorry, sir."

Light nodded and gave a charming smile when he took the card. The smile lasted until he securely locked himself into his apartment. He threw off his suit and tugged his tie off. Never, never before had he ever met someone quite like Beyond. An aura of murder and danger clung to the childish prisoner like a second skin.

"I spent the first week plotting my first twelve escape plans. I spent the next four years wondering what to do if I got out. I came up with nothing, so I stayed."

Unable to control himself, Light looked around his apartment. Then, he rolled his eyes and flipped the lights on. Beyond was human, and humans do not materialize out of thin air. What had gotten into him?

Light hung up his suit and proceeded to unbutton his shirt, before his eyes fell on the tie again. The tie, as Beyond had correctly guessed, came from his girlfriend, and had cost enough to pay the rent of an average apartment for three months. Of course, his girlfriend wasn't average and the money spent was probably her hourly wage.

Being Japan's top teenage model came with certain benefits and his girlfriend, Misa Amane, knew exactly how to take advantage of the system.

Thinking about his girlfriend reminded Light of how much he still despised her bubbly personality and obsession. He rejected her the first six times she asked, but she never went away, and there were only so many times he could turn down Japan's female wet dream before he was labeled mentally instable or homosexual.

So he promised to be her boyfriend, and she promised to allow him some time to himself.

His cell phone rang, and he flipped it open. Caller ID told him it was Matsuda, calling long-distance.

"Light-kun. Light-kun," said Matsuda. His voice was wild, expectant, as it he had news he couldn't wait to tell Light. But Matsuda was an easily excited man— whatever he had to tell was probably as exciting as the setting sun, Light thought.

"Hello." He prepared himself to be bombarded with questions about the madman he was supposed to study and learn strategies from.

"Have you read the newspaper?" Unexpected, thought Light.

"The United States president gave a speech, an airplane crashed, and a big political figure was caught with teenage call girls." Those were the headlines today.

"Oh yeah, I forgot you're in the USA now," said Matsuda. "You won't believe this, Light, but there's a case. A new serial killer."

The idea that Beyond had suddenly escaped and restarted his regime of crime flashed in Light's mind, and he took a deep breathe breath. He was being sillier than Matsuda.

Matsuda's voice turned into a loud whisper, "No one knows how he is doing it. Today, a new body is found. Everything about the body was perfect – no signs of struggle, no bruises or cuts. The internal organs are in perfectly condition too – except the lungs. The lungs were torn into tiny pieces. Inside the body. Obviously, that's the cause of the death, but," Matsuda's voice rose again, "we have no damn clue how."

"Lungs torn into tiny pieces, but everything else about the body is intact…?" questioned Light. Count on Matsuda to reiterate and ramble when the important details could be given in one line. Possibilities started churning in his mind, but he soon dismissed most of them. His ability to quickly run through and eliminate scenarios was part of what made him one of Japen's top. He briefly pondered if it was some form of corrosive chemical, and voiced the question.

"Nope. No trace of any chemicals whatsoever. My god, the lungs were in tiny pieces. Wait, Light-kun, I'll send you the case file. Check your E-mail," said Matsuda. "We might need you back here. No one knows how to handle this case."

Light fell silent, and Matsuda knew it was time to hang up.

Light hurried to his computer and in less than a minute, it was ready to use. Light had always demanded the best technologies, and the budget was usually stretched to allow Japan's most promising young detective the most promising equipments.

By the time he logged into his E-mail, Matsuda had already sent him the report. Clearly, that had been part of the plan before the man even called him.

Light glanced through the report. Thirty years old Alex Li moved to Japan two years ago, and worked as a waiter in a cheap restaurant. The man had an outstanding drug habit and was involved with the wrong side of law, but had no hospital records. In other words, a typical young hooligan that haunted the dirtier parts of Japan streets. Light clicked the attachments.

The first four pictures showed a body in perfect condition – the young man was lean, and lightly muscled. There were no bruises, cuts, or marks.

Then, came the X-ray pictures. Light couldn't contain his gasp. Within the perfect body, was a mess of demolished lung. The organ had been so thoroughly torn, it was nearly liquid. It leaked and hung between the large intestine and stomach in a way that a lung shouldn't. Every other organ was pristine.

Light looked back at the peaceful body in the first picture, and forced down bile. It had been a while since he saw something as sick as this. He refused to look at the autopsy pictures, and silently praised whoever conducted this autopsy.

He closed his eyes and decided to take a shower. He would shower, type up the report for Beyond Birthday –which he only had to fill out that no, Beyond Birthday did not say anything useful other than admitting to a murder and dumping the body in the Atlantics. Light decided to complete this first. Six quick sentences, no thorough elaboration, and he quickly sent the document to Japan to be filed like every other useless report.

When he stepped into his shower, and allowed the hot water to run over his hair, face, and body, he relaxed. Beyond didn't matter anymore, since he didn't have to deal with the man until tomorrow. His mind flitted back to the case Matsuda sent him. The perfect body with the jellied lung.

If he could figure out how, which chemical or material the murderer used, then the police could easily trace the source. Light daresay that the chemical was not a common one. The murderer clearly wanted to start a game. A game to stump the police, and flaunt his own creativity.

A man who killed for the simple sake of opening cryptic cases. Light imagined asking Beyond how did you think this happen. Beyond would know, of course, and Beyond would tease him. Beyond would tease and test him until he fidget and squirm, but Beyond would give the answer. Because for men like them, evidence was everything.

Light wondered how on earth was the case even remotely related to Beyond.

Turning the faucet off, he pulled the curtain back and a gust of cool air hit him. He scowled. Los Angeles, the city of Angels, felt much colder than Japan, especially at night. He wondered if he had packed sufficiently – he immensely disliked the cold. At the thought, something nagged the back of his mind.

"A little boy. He was very annoying, very loud; kept complaining about being cold."

"So?"

"I gave him anti-freeze."

Light froze. The hot mist did nothing to sooth the goose bumps that suddenly crept up his body. Along with realization of an idea that suddenly hit him, he felt the familiar flash of pride he always felt when he solved a particularly unusual mystery.

Light called Matsuda's office as soon as he toweled himself dry and threw on a bathrobe. Since it was night in Los Angeles, he knew it would be sometime in the afternoon in Japan. He was too distracted to immediately come up with the exact time.

"Light-kun, did you look at the case?"

"Yes."

"It's so creepy, isn't it? It's like someone took out his lungs, dropped them off from the Mount Fuji, scooped it up, and injected it back into his body. God, I—" Matsuda paused, and Light could imagine the shudder that coursed through the man's body.

Then, the phone changed hands, and Light heard his father's voice.

"Son, did you come up with anything?" The fact that Chief Soichiro Yagami was directly involved meant the case was either incredibly important or incredibly interesting. Since Soichiro had never been an adrenaline chaser, Light knew it was the former.

"It's definitely chemical," said Light. His hair felt sufficiently dried, so he hung the towel around his neck, scowling at the sudden drop in the temperature.

"Do you think they injected some kind of undetectable chemical that could melt the lung? Needle marks can be hard to detect."

"I was thinking more along the lines of frostbite, actually."

Again, the hallway was a pandemonium of insanity.

"Light-chan said he won't come back."

Beyond definitely looked exhilarated to see him, Light thought. The man was still in his odd crouch, and his hair looked even messier. He still sported the orange prisoner garb, and Light noticed that his toothbrush had been replaced with an identical copy. This time, Beyond made no attempt to ignore him or play language games.

Light composed himself in a similar manner as yesterday; his movements purposefully calm and confident. He settled in the wooden chair, and crossed his legs. Today, he wore a casual, stripped red shirt and pressed pants. He doubted the other cared about his outfits, but he had felt that a stiff suit would suffocate him even more than the stone walls and black eyes that bled asphyxiation.

"I lied," said Light.

"I knew you were coming back since eighteen hours ago," replied Beyond. His fingers rose to grip the sides of his face, and his pinkies stretched his mouth into a wide grin. "Why is Light-chan so excited today?"

Light raised an eyebrow, and reminded himself not to shift in reaction, "I stayed up all night thinking about our wonderful chit-chat yesterday."

Beyond slipped two more fingers into his mouth and pulled, the four digits stretching his mouth into a demented rectangle. He stuck out his tongue, and wagged it lightly. "Bad boy."

"There is a case," Light spoke suddenly. He sat up to convey his false excitement, hands absentmindedly brushing his hair back. Beyond's eyes followed his every movement, and his own eyes stared into Beyond's eyes.

"I'm listening," said Beyond. "Maybe."

"A perfectly healthy human being was murdered," said Light. He paused, as it he would say more and watched as Beyond's fingers stilled in anticipation. Beyond was clearly interested, since his body gave a light shift in response. Light remained silent. How long would it take to rile Beyond up?

A minute later, Beyond twitched in annoyance, and removed his hands from his face. "That was the most, absolute most, fascinating shit I've ever heard in my life."

"Tell me about another murder unfiled murder case," said Light. As soon as the words left his mouth, he knew Beyond would do it. He sat back to listen, and watched as Beyond struggled with himself. He knew Beyond didn't want to give up his pride and submit by obeying Light, but Light figure Beyond's curiosity would get better of him. After all, he was not obliged to share the case, and nor was he obliged to obtain information. Beyond would gain the most of the information exchange, but Light would be given the upper hand.

"I injected a strong strain of Rabie into a family German Shepherd right after its yearly test," said Beyond. Monotone, as if the last person he ever wanted to see showed up and spoke to him. "Two weeks later, at a well timed family party, little pup went koo-koo and munchied six people."

"Clever, but boring." Monotone to match. Light wondered just how much Beyond was getting to him. To dismiss a murder of six people as 'boring' crossed some invisible line he had drawn for himself over the years and he felt it. It wasn't as if he would have broken down and wept, but he usually forced himself to show compassion, on the very least.

"But I shared. Tell me, Light-chan, what excited you?"

"I am excited?"

"Because you have ex-fucking-cited in glowing purple neon on your forehead." The vicious words were spoken in the monotone. Beyond's eyes were bored and dead, but Light could see that the man wanted the information.

Light calmly uncrossed his legs, and re-crossed them. He made a show of smoothing down his pants legs and sleeve before clasping his hands in front of his knees.

"Like a said, a perfectly healthy human body. No injection marks, no bruise, no cuts – no sign of struggle whatsoever. But very dead."

"Potassium absorption or any of the thousand little chemicals young boys shouldn't touch," Beyond immediately responded. He rolled his eyes, paused and proceeded to roll them again multiple times in succession. Light counted thirteen rolls. "Mostly undetectable, quite deadly, and very, very fucking boring."

"The lungs were completely destroyed," said Light.

That caught Beyond's interest.

"The other organs?"

"Donor material," replied Light. As he spoke the last words, Beyond's eyes gained an incredibly concentrated look. It was the kind of look Light saw in fellow Tokyo University students on the day before a major examination. Beyond had stopped playing with his face, and settled his hands into his knees. His mouth tensed into a straight line.

"How destroyed?"

"Corn beef," said Light.

"You know how it happened."

"Yes."

"No," said Beyond. His fingers tapped his knees lightly, as if dancing across a piano. "You were the one who figured it out, when everyone else was stumped."

"Yes." Light tilted his head lightly to the side and offered a half-shrug. Beyond would recognize the nonchalant attitude as a challenge.

"You wonder if I can do it too." Statement.

"Yes."

"How much time do we have left?" Beyond stared at Light, and his entire body was still. "No, don't look at your watch."

Light paused in the middle of unbuttoning his sleeve. His watch was still hidden under the fabric, and he buttoned his sleeve again. "Thirty seven minutes."

"Check your watch."

"I know I'm right," said Light. Suddenly, another idea came to him, "Quid Pro Quo, Beyond?"

Beyond shrugged, "Does Light-chan love his girlfriend?"

That was among the last questions Light ever expected from Beyond Birthday. It seemed like a cheap way to bite back. Remembering the day before, Light wondered if Beyond was the type who would do anything to prove himself right.

"No," said Light.

"You hate her, actually," Beyond looked incredibly proud of himself – faked, as far as Light was concerned. He picked up his blanket and held it in front of himself, allowing the fabric to cascade down, the bottom brushing against the floor gently. Suddenly, the orange suit and madman disappeared. All Light could see was a pair of hands and a gray blanket.

As the young detective watched, the mental patient took a corner, and started ripping the blanket into strips. Light raised an eyebrow, but didn't comment.

"How would you kill your most hated enemy?"

"Is Light-chan asking how I want to kill him?" He shredded another strip of cloth from the blanket, and Light could see half of Beyond's face. The black eyes were glinting with a spark of madness and satisfaction. Beyond stopped and stared at Light with a single eye. "Abdominal pain and bleeding intestinal ulcers. After a few months of being unable to eat and constantly tearing intestines, it's over. They'll perform autopsy, and they won't find anything. No fancy chemicals or toxic. How did you die?"

Light didn't answer. Instead he stared at Beyond. He felt sick, to tell the truth. He felt like bolting to the door, and running from the single black eye before it devoured all the air in the room. Lifting a hand to his face, he forced himself, once again, to calm the fuck down. He was professional. No, he was among the best – beyond professional. The hand went down.

"That wasn't my question."

"And that wasn't the answer," said Beyond. Another strip of gray fabric was torn, and more of Beyond's face was revealed. Light noticed that Beyond wasn't shredding the blanket; rather, all the strips were connected at the end. "I wouldn't kill my most hated enemy. I'll force him or her into the most painful position possible, and let them live."

Another strip, and Light could see Beyond's left eye.

"Quid – How did Light-chan die?"

Light was unsettled. It wasn't the particular challenge. As a detective, he often had to figure out the how, and he was quite good at it. But he hated how Beyond spoke. How Beyond spoke of his death as it already happened, in that nonchalant voice and how he had to actually think about it. Light had never been suicidal, and the words 'Light' and 'die' simply never went together. Beyond was done shredding the blanket now, and he gathered the strips into his left hand.

"Tiger whiskers," Light finally said. "The barbs in the whiskers would latch into the stomach and intestines."

Tiger Whiskers was among one of the more obscure (but highly undetectable) murder methods. Light had never seen it executed, but he had studied too many books. Tiger Whiskers had microscopic barbs in every strand. They were tiny and no matter how many times one cut the whisker, they would still be there. Once consumed, they would latch into the digestive system, and never let go. Normal digestion movements would cause the barbs to scratch against the linings until the human body fell still.

Beyond looked absolutely delighted. "Your stomach and intestines," he corrected.

Light gave a small wave with his right hand, as if the words had no effects on him. "Quo, what is your greatest fear?"

Beyond's eye visibly narrowed at the question. Light knew the man wanted to say he feared nothing. Beyond stayed silent, and Light began to count the seconds. Beyond stayed silent for four minutes before he answered, "I fear being ignored by justice."

He immediately spoke again, "Light-chan, what is in my hand?"

'A mutilated blanket' sounded childish, and Light was sure there was more to the question.

"80% cotton and 20% Nylon," answered Light.

Beyond grinned. It was the same grin he had when he spoke about Light's habitual thinking habits. It was a grin Beyond gave whenever he felt that he had upper hand, Light noted. Light gave a perfected smile of his own.

"No, what I have in my hand is a human lung," said Beyond. They were returning to the first topic. Beyond held out his other hand, palm held up, as if he was holding something delicate and dangerous.

"What do you have in your other hand?"

"What I have in my other hand, is a canister of Liquid Nitrogen," said Beyond. "Light-chan knows all about Liquid Nitrogen, of course. It's only negative 75 degree gas."

Beyond took his right hand, and held the 'Liquid Nitrogen' in front of his mouth. His body jolted, and he pretended to suffocate himself. When he spoke again, his voice was slightly raspy, "Any high school student would know, when something becomes cold, it becomes very, very brittle. And we have a thoroughly frozen lung. No other parts of the body are affected, of course. Maybe temporarily frozen, but not badly."

"Then some soft violence," said Beyond, as he immediately discarded the pretend canister and pressed down on the shredded blanket in his left hand. He immediately threw the blanket up and the two men watched as the ragged cloth flutter to the ground.

"My turn to ask a question, Light-chan," Beyond whispered. He gestured to the ground. "What is on the ground?"

"Corn beef," said Light. Beyond was mental, psychotic, and deranged, but Light felt the slightest string of respect for the man. He clearly knew his stuff. "In any case, I told the team to take the investigation into chemical stores."

The statement was as meaningless as it sounded, and Light considered it filler before he came up with the next question. He had also told the team to focus on people who knew the human body. In theory, part of the throat and stomach should have also been destroyed, but the murderer had only crushed the lung. They were careful, and knowledgeable of the human body.

"Could have easily been a High school or College," said Beyond. "Many schools offer a lab that involves having fun with Liquid Nitrogen."

"Most kids are too busy to plot murder," replied Light. He made a point to tilt his head at Beyond. "Exceptions apply, of course. Where did you grow up?"

"An orphanage." Beyond answered, and quickly followed it up—

"Does Light-chan know about the Disney princesses? Which one does he prefer?"

Light blinked in surprise at the sudden change in topic. When he was younger, it was a popular game. Adolescent boys would gather together and pretend to be all grown up by talking about girls – mimicking older siblings. Unfortunately, their only sources were cartoon girls from cartoon shows.

"I've always preferred Maleficent or the wicked Queen, actually. The princesses are a distasteful group." It was the truth. The princesses, with their one-way mindset (always kind and looking for love), stood out to him as everything the world wasn't. They trusted easily, never helped themselves, and always spoke righteously - hypocritically. Plus, they all finished off with an equal lack of brainpower.

"Convoluted intelligence, unconventional beauty and deranged morals. I didn't know you go for that type, Light-chan."

"Why are you asking me so many questions about my dating habit?"

"I don't know" said Beyond. He lifted a finger to trail it across his lips, before gently sucking the finger into mouth in a purely sexual manner. He pulled back, and licked the base of his fingers until Light glanced away. To his credit, Light didn't blush. "I'm not interested in you. If I ask you questions about yourself, you'll be immediately put on defense. But dating and girls; all men talk about it. Most just don't know how much it reveals about a person. And I have nothing to do other than dissect your mind."

Light nearly bit his lower lips in shock. He had more or less assumed that the man's prodding were a result of his lonely years in prison. That, and a weak attempt to jab at his current relationship with Misa. With Beyond, thought Light, everything was a façade. Everything was a deranged game.

Beyond grinned again. Then he turned his back to Light and stared at the wall. Light knew, from his internal clock, that there should be roughly eleven minutes until the day's hour was up. He guessed that Beyond wasn't going to speak any longer. Normally, he might have felt agitated, but today, Beyond had been comparably lenient on intentionally inflicting psychological scars, and for that he was grateful.

Light decided to sit out the eleven minutes so the staff wouldn't have any questions. Light focused his gaze on Beyond's back. Light assumed that Beyond, despite his usual ability to learn people's name, did not have eyes in the back of his head.

For a split second, Light felt lucky. Never, in his life, had he met a person worth speaking to as an equal. Light had never met a person who could make his stomach do a double take in surprised because he was outsmarted in his own game. Usually, his mind was a light-year ahead, and no one kept up.

In fact, no one had ever kept up with him in anything. Whether it was grades, women, men, or anything his generation concerned themselves with. He had graduated as valedictorian from the top college, been repeatedly voted most handsome (and most promising), and was dating Japan's most desired woman. Women, if he were honest.

Light remembered a particular incident when he was seven years old. It was his sister's birthday, and his mother asked her what she wanted. Sayu, child as she was, replied 'everything!'

His mother laughed and gently explained, "But you can't have everything. What would you do if you have everything?"

"I want everything!" repeated his sister. His mother at smiled at the childish antics, and clucked her tongue gently.

"But then, if you have everything, what will you wish for on your next birthday?"

The question stumped his three years old sister. She quickly wished for a big teddy bear instead, and his mother smiled.

"I think," Light suddenly interrupted, eyes leaving the slice of cake that he had no intention of eating in the first place, "that if someone has everything, they would want their own destruction."

His mother gave a slightly uneasy laugh, and his sister was already distracted by her own slice of cake.

"Son, you say the oddest thing," his father chuckled. It was the first time the man spoke since congratulating his sister.

"No, father," said seven years old Light, with every ounce of childish excitement. He spoke with the pride of a child whom recently discovered how to tie his own shoelace. "Don't you think, that mankind is always seeking destruction— their own destruction? If someone has everything, gets everything, then more than anything, they would want to destroy themselves, just to see what it's like to have nothing."

Both his parents gave a small 'what a child' smile then, and Light fell silent.

When the hour was up, Light sent one last look at Beyond. The shock of black hair was wild against the bright prison garb, and the destroyed blanket lay between the two of them. They had only met for two hours, but Light already felt the challenge. He had leveled up in a game he never knew he was playing, and Beyond, with his twisted grin and scorching words would be the next boss.

With a shudder, Light wondered if Beyond Birthday would be Light Yagami's destruction.

Chapter Text

Several other bodies were discovered today.

“The difference is that it’s the stomach and intestine that’s mutilated,” said Matsuda. He’d called again. The man seemed to have arrived at an irrational conclusion that he was Light’s new best friend, one with the responsibility to bring Light daily news from the Tokyo’s investigation team. Most were cases that the average detective could solve, but the cases with all the mysterious deaths was still a puzzle.

Light’s eyes narrowed and his tongue pressed firmly against the back of his teeth. His fingers twisted the arm of the chair he sat in as his eyes rapidly darted from wall to wall. His foot tapped against the ground in a slow, steady pace. These were movements Light only allowed himself to indulge in because he was alone in his apartment.

As Matsuda spoke, Light's mind raced to find an atom of insight. Matsuda appeared to have understood Light’s silence as surprise and rightfully continued to describe the exciting new case with renewed commitment, “It appears as if—“

“As if something gnawed the man’s stomach and intestines from inside out, but left every other part of the body untouched,” said Light. He spoke clearly, as if he was reading from an elementary student’s picture book. There was no indication that Light’s assertion was a wild guess based entirely on gut instincts.

After a pause, Light added another part of his deduction. “Except for signs of malnourishment.”

Matsuda gasped so loudly he needed to apologize to someone near him. After the half-muted apologies, Matsuda returned to exclaim, “There’s no way you could have read the case file by now; I sent it the second I called you! I literally clicked send at the same time that I pressed call.”

“Tiger’s whiskers.” Matsuda was right; Light hadn't opened the email yet.

“What?”

“There are barbs in tiger’s whiskers that will latch onto stomach and intestine linings and create continuous lacerations,” said Light. He felt watched, as if Beyond Birthday could suddenly appear in his rented apartment. For a moment, Light could feel fingers wrapping itself around his throat. Light tilted his head back, leaning into the invisible embrace.

Then, the man pulled forward with a silent gasp, wondering how he completely forgotten that he was on the phone with Matsuda while the man talked away. Must've had something to do with how Light’s mind naturally filtered out any words or information he considered nonfunctional. 

With more effort than it was worth, Light committed himself to listening again.

“--How did you know that? You’re brilliant, Light-kun! We will renew the investigation based on this theory,” Matsuda was saying. “The chief will be even prouder of you, despite how he is already really proud.” Matsuda laughed nervously as if he had nothing else to say.

“No,” said Light. He couldn't listen to Matsuda anymore. Light’s heart was racing so hard he could hear his own heartbeat. He suddenly felt exposed and if Beyond was there, he would have been able to understand the rapid glint of rage that entered Light’s eyes.

“Shut up,” said Light. He spoke gently, with the same tone a mother would use to praise an infant. 

He heard an intake of breath as the meaning of his words finally sunk in and Matsuda closed his mouth.  Light closed his eyes, his mind rapidly calculating all the possibilities and trying to find the barest thread of connections. Everything that occurred since he'd set foot in America began to replay itself again and again in his mind, over and over. Everything he remembered, which was literally everything that'd happened, was broken down into bare essences and then compared against other occurrences like gears on a wheel. 

Coincidence meant connection; there had to be a centric focal point. Any kind of orchestrated chaos had to stem from a point of convergence before branching out. That was the way the human mind worked. That was especially how the logic-guided mind of geniuses worked.

Light flipped the screen of his laptop open and began working.

His fingers flew over the keyboard as he pulled up the two recent cases and compared everything from victims to location to how the cases came to the police’s attention. He delineated the dates, the geographic coordination, any quantifiable qualities about the victims, addresses and ran everything through a labyrinth of algorithms Light built himself.  

Matsuda kindly stayed on the phone, helpfully trying to silence his breathing and not making a single sound as Light pieced together every imperceptible detail from the previous two cases. He could tell these crimes were committed for the sake of committing a crime - that meant the criminal would leave little catch me if you cans. 

“The next case is going to be at Gakutopi road, building 33K, apartment 314,” said Light. He spoke after eleven silent minutes on his laptop, “There were six bodies with crushed lungs, four with torn stomach and you will find three bodies at Gakutopi.”

“Huh?”

“I have no time to explain the mathematic sequence that this crime was based on,” said Light. He didn't add, especially to you. In case Matsuda missed it, Light messaged the address to the man. “Take a squad with you and search the location I indicated. I need pictures of the crime scene within 20 hours.”

Before he spoke to Beyond Birthday again.

With those words out of his mouth, Light waited for Matsuda to gather his wits about him. The adrenaline that rushed through Light’s vein had nothing to do with delivering justice or cleansing the city of crime. Light knew that all the emotions coursing through his body were roused by the man sitting behind bars and glass in the nearest mental hospital. Their game proved itself to be an international game of chess and Light anticipated being one step ahead of Beyond Birthday.

His fingers curled into claws, smashing random keys on his laptop as Light suppressed a violent shudder. Light realized, he’d never ever felt so alive.

Then, the illusion of control broke.

"L predicted the same thing about the bodies and location," said Matsuda.

Light could hear the nervous excitement in the man's voice and Light became aware of a distant click. Someone else was listening to their conversation on the phone the entire time.  Light refused to let the new knowledge rattle him, refused to be surprised and instead used the time to factor in the new pieces of information revealed to him.

Of course Light knew who L was: the "greatest detective in the world." An entity of justice whose fame was only exceeded by an impenetrable smokescreen of enigma that surrounded it.  Light was familiar with the completely random procedure L would choose any case from all the cases in the world to assist or solve. Sometimes he'd send a simple message containing a central piece. Other times, it was a request for information. Light's mind added an 'L' piece to the metaphoric chessboard in his mind, then changed the representation from a chess piece to a third player.

The chessboard became three-dimensional.

Instead of speaking, Light waited for Matsuda to inevitably speak more.

"L contacted us soon after we found the bodies today. He said the same thing you did: three bodies at Gakutopi road. He said not to tell you we found four bodies there an hour ago because he wanted to see how quickly you could figure it out," said Matsuda. His next words came out on top of each other. "I'm so sorry for deceiving you, Light-kun. It's just that it's L. It's L, Light. The L. The real L. He's personally interested in this string of murders and he... well, Chief spoke highly of you, so I guess L wanted to sort of see - kinda like -I'm so sorry!"

Light hung up without another word.

For the first time in his life, Light felt insecure. He felt manipulated, provoked and indignant; an assortment of emotions that Light had never felt in his life before and hence thought himself incapable of. L's involvement fell out of nowhere, and Light had no idea why he felt so deeply involved in an overseas case when he had his own project and mission in the states. His assignment right now was to understand Beyond Birthday and he was beginning to get an idea of how alarmingly wicked the man truly was.

Yet, the cases in Japan were somehow connected to a man behind bars in LA.

The desire to surge ahead of his opponent was clouding Light's mind, taking up precious attention that he could instead use to better understand everything. Within several minutes, Light hacked into and pulled up confidential information about Beyond Birthday. According to what he saw, Beyond Birthday was apprehended four years ago by L himself, after a rapid and complex game of cat and mouse. There was a recording, but the file was so corrupted it could've only been done on purpose.

The files he'd been shown prior to his first visit were alternated, Light realized.

This was the real report, the one written by L himself, stored in the deepest abyss of law enforcement's archives. But the security on it was recently lightened and Light knew he was meant to know that. After a curious internal struggle, Light left a little cryptic note on the file, one that could eventually be decoded to spell, 'Is big brother watching?'

Closing the file, Light tranquilized himself to a meditative state of mind. The first thought that flashed across his mind was how much he loved that Misa wasn't here to randomly disrupt his musing. The recent cases couldn't shed their connection to Beyond, who'd dropped all those seemingly innocent phrases here and there. Light originally thought he was dealing with a genius madman, but it became a mental volley of probes and scrutiny.

Now, he was teased with the possibility that it was becoming something else altogether.

The next day began simple enough.

After introducing himself to the police department, Light assisted the Los Angeles detective team on some easy cases that should have been solved within the hour. In two of those cases, the police force failed to investigate something they didn't think was evidence. In the hardest case, all Light had to do was list out all the possibilities and deduce which of the less-than-stellar plans of action that the culprit took given what Light knew of his education background.

And here Light thought the Americans learned the process of elimination by Middle School.

It'd only taken a few hours before he was introduced to one of the leaders in the department as a remarkable young genius from Asia. They praised his Chinese education and culture as a young woman with bushy hair and wire-rimmed glasses nervously whispered Japanese. Light smiled politely the entire time, speaking as few words as possible before stepping aside to speak to the head of the department.

After pointing out and  resolving a bug with a "questionable origin" (Light created it last night) on the department leader's computer, the same leader offered to introduce Light to the police department's executive, Chief Whitemore, during a social event next week. His invitation was printed on glossy photograph paper right on the spot. At the end of his productive day, he'd accomplished part of what he'd stepped into America to do: establish rapport with the LA crew and gradually work his way into national security.

Then, there was his daily routine with Beyond Birthday.

No matter how skillfully Light played his games of politics and friendship, nothing compared to the genuine excitement he felt at the prospect of seeing Beyond Birthday again. Light felt as though Beyond was someone who could understand him, that Beyond was someone who could see beyond the one-dimensional facade most people held a light to. In Beyond's eyes, he was neither a genius who was leagues ahead of everyone else nor a freak of nature to avoid and fear.

The chair was where Light left it, in the middle of the eerie hallway like an outcast. By now, Light was able to ignore the cacophony from the rest of the prisoners in a matter of seconds. He no longer acknowledged the jeers from the demented man or the occasional wailing of the toothless female.

In his mind, it wasn't even background noises; it was gone.

His attention was completely focused on the only person who mattered in the entire building.

"Good afternoon," said Light, as he sat with one leg elegantly crossed over the other.  There was a light cheer in his voice, as if he hadn't spent a good deal of last night turning and tossing information in his mind trying to come up with ways to turn the metaphorical game of chess to his advantage. Light was lucky that his restless night hadn't manifested in any bags under his eyes. He knew he looked as impeccable as ever because he'd checked every detail in the mirror three times over before he began walking down the hallway.

This time, Beyond Birthday completely ignored him. The pace of his breathing and blinking was exactly the same every time and not even a muscle shifted. Light could tell Beyond was displeased, though. The man was not chewing softly on his thumb and he was perched in that Light fondly dubbed as Beyond's "serious thinking pose". There was an indecipherable  but faraway look in Beyond Birthday's eyes. The direction his gaze was tilted told Light he was thinking about something in the future.

Still, Light didn't want to just wait in silence to see what Beyond Birthday had to say for himself. Light knew Beyond Birthday had something to say to him. Light wanted to see a reaction. As childish as it was, Light wanted to see something as a result of what he could assume to have been a tiny victory against Beyond Birthday. 

"I hope you're not dumb enough to mistake  my silence for vexation," said Beyond Birthday. He spoke first, as Light'd expected him to.

"As long as you don't mistake my humble efforts to do my job as a declaration of war," Light replied smoothly. He wasn't hiding the fact that he was in a good mood. Let Beyond Birthday see, and let him see what Beyond Birthday could do about it.

"Your job was never to keep me here," said Beyond. Beyond was already trying to decode his action, skipping past all things sentimental. After all, there was no way he could be in a better mood than Light and he would be fighting a losing battle if he waged one. "If I have to pick a motive, I would say self-preservation. If I escaped, the arrow of suspicion would point to you. It was, of course, your best interest to prevent it."

"Would you tell me why you tried to escape for the first time since coming here four years ago?" asked Light. The call that took place two hours ago told him as much. All the electronic securities in place had simply lifted for a few seconds, allowing Beyond Birthday to stroll onto the first floor before the men Light arranged in place stopped him.

"I didn't try to escape," said Beyond Birthday. He looked offended, as if he'd expected Light to have a higher opinion of him. "I am not the kind of person who tries, Light-chan, When my expedient began, I had every intention of being caught by you. I only wondered where your traps would kick into place."

"You have a problem," said Light.

"As in, I have a problem," said Beyond Birthday. He wasn't asking any question and his tone of voice was conversational. "Or as in, I'm creating a problem for you."

"Neither and both," said Light. "You just have a problem."

A problem was probably the understatement of the year, but Light was running thin on patience and out of things to say.  He was beginning to feel that there was nothing to crack when it came to Beyond Birthday - the man was an ever-changing pool of water. Wisely, Light ignored the thoughts that wondered if it was better to allow water to flow freely. In the ensuing seconds of silence, Light mentally computed:  Banter at 3%, unresponsiveness at 9%, displayed irritation at 2%, displayed disdain at 1%, unexpected actions at 9%... change of topic at 44% -

Beyond Birthday was definitely going to throw a curveball out of left field.

Behind the glass, Beyond Birthday looked glum and someone who liked children might've found his childlike grumpiness adorable. Then, with his eyes rolled back until Light could only see white, Beyond said, "Big Brother is watching."

Light watched the man behind the glass quietly, reflecting back to the little note he'd left on L's file yesterday. He knew better than to act surprise or ask how Beyond knew about that. He'd simply have to investigate the issues himself at his own convenience. Then Light said, "Quid pro Quo. It's your turn to ask me a question."

"There're forty-two minutes left in today's conversation," said Beyond Birthday. "Don't you think that game is getting boring, Light-chan?"

"Who evaluates their job by its entertainment value?" asked Light. Bared, his exchanges with Beyond Birthday were his job. An excuse for Japan to rub elbows with LA and slowly integrate itself with US's more advanced technology, but talking to Beyond was his job nonetheless. The fact that Beyond Birthday thrilled Light was a bonus, not a prerequisite.

As if he didn't speak, Beyond Birthday said, "Think of it like fucking. I slide my cock into your warm cunt, nice and deep, oh yes that feels good. I'd start slow, savor the friction as you whimper and writhe - foreheads pressed together, breaths exchanged. Your body's slick with heat, arching with need and ah - so hypersensitive as I spread your legs wider, fuck you harder -"

"Stop," said Light. He'd never thought he would run into a situation where he had to control the rhythm of his breath. There was a prickling sensation at the bottom of his spine and he forced himself not to adjust how he sat on the chair. He told Beyond Birthday briefly, evenly, "You're going off-topic."

"And you're a virgin," said Beyond Birthday.

"I'm, " said Light. He took a deep breath, relaxing his lips in a smile that was more practiced than real. Of course he wasn't a virgin and, of course, Beyond knew that. "Your point, simply put, was that this back and forth-,"

"Rutting," said Beyond Birthday.

"Dialogue exchange," said Light.

"Unfit for your first time."

"Is boring you."

"I want to fuck you raw."

Beyond Birthday's gaze pierced into him, heavy with lust and possession. His skin looked impossibly smooth and his hair impossibly soft. The glass wall might as well as evaporated between them. Then, Light broke eye contact to check his watch, mind games be damned.

When he looked up again, the apathy reflected might as well be rejection. Light offered a half-shrug, "Wasn't part of the job description."

Light called the same man from two days ago, recalling the number from memory. Six minutes later, the man nervously pulled up in the taxi, looking as if he'd been summoned by the devil. Light gave him an easy smile, a dazzling grin with a look-twice appeal that he usually reserved for women and useful people.

"Just drive," said Light. He settled into the front seat, his eyes turned toward the window as he'd done the other day. "I don't care where you go, but don't stop the car."

Other than a perfunctory "Yes, sir," the taxi driver remained silent. Light ignored the nervous glances cast his direction, his face a porcelain mask of distracted politeness.

When the taxi was twenty blocks away, Jarreston Hospital for the Criminally Insane exploded.

The earth shook underneath the cars and horns started screeching all over. Cars ahead and behind them began to pick up speed, rushing away from the devouring heat. Smoke billowed out from the once-tall building as tons of steel, glass and plaster showered down in a deadly rainfall on the streets nearby. People began running, afraid that more buildings would share the fate. Beside him, the taxi driver had picked up speed, hurrying as far away as the explosion as he was allowed to.

The taxi slowed to a stop as police officers began to swarm in the streets, calming people, checking any suspicious or oversized bags and searching any cars within the mile. Judging by the number of officers in the street, the entire force must have been mobilized. Most carried their guns, but some officers had their gun in their hand, ready to fire. A police officer, a pudgy man with beady eyes and a nose that looked more like a snout, approached their car and demanded that Light and the driver step out. His badge read Nile. 

As Nile came around to Light's window, Light rolled the glass down and held out his ID. In addition to diplomatic immunity, he was an international investigator with medium-high rights to privacy. No one less than a department head had the right to search him. Nile apologized and provided the information that Light needed: the explosion was a precisely executed one that took down the entire building via strategic placement of military-grade TNT.

Five minutes later, his phone rang.

It was Soichiro Yagami, who sounded desperate as he yelled, "Light? Light? I saw that the hospital exploded! Can you hear me? Are you alright?"

"Hey, dad." After his greeting, Light frowned. When he spoke again, there was an appropriate shakiness to his voice, "I left at precisely 6, so I was a good distance away."

"Thank God," said Soichiro. His voice was a little less shaky now and bore more resemblance to a chief than a worried father. "I knew I shouldn't have let you take on that accursed project. The LA force is doing an immediate sweep of the area, hoping to provide emergency care to survivors."

"Are there any?" Light asked. "Survivors."

"Not that we know of," said Soichiro. "Because of our partnership and the presence of our task force in the vicinity, we are getting live feeds from the sweepers. Whoever did this... they bypassed all the security in place, outsmarted all the anti-fire, counter-terrorism measures in place. The explosives were somehow placed in critical locations with ultra-high security."

Light knew he was expected to investigate the explosion. But the more important question on his mind was, "Beyond Birthday is dead?"   

"For good," said Soichiro. Soichiro sounded convinced that no one made it out of the hospital. Since his father was watching live feeds from the professionals, Light could only assume there was a high level of accuracy to his information. "It's a pity you weren't allowed to record your conversations with him - but I guess there is nothing we can do with a dead man anyway."

"Well," said Light. His mind refused to accept that. He knew Beyond Birthday wouldn't go down so easily - a man with 22 escape methods couldn't go up in the smoke just like that. He closed his eyes, his mind running around in tiny circles. Since he'd met Beyond Birthday, Beyond Birthday'd been one step ahead of him all the time.

Light was catching up, slowly unraveling the mystery, but he hadn't figure out where Beyond laid all his pieces. The startling case in Japan and Beyond's implied involvement, his cryptic note to L that Beyond answered... Does Light-chan know about the Disney princesses? Which one does he prefer? The taxi-driver who crawled back into the taxi gave him a strange look as Light said, "That dead man is going to blow up Disney World in Florida."

After his words, there was a click, similar to the one he heard last night. Light's fingers tightened on the phone, feeling adrenaline course through his body again for the second time that day. His attention zeroed into the tiny sound, ignoring the chaotic world outside the car window. 

A third, mechanical voice joined the conversation, "He already did that."

Chapter Text

"He already did that."

The words were spoken in impeccable English, a distraction from the Japanese Light used with his father. Light swallowed as Soichiro gasped on the other end. Like an old recorder from thirty years ago, the voice droned on, this time in Japanese, "Pardon. Perhaps I should be more specific. At 6:11 PM, nineteen Disney World employees exploded."

 As Light's father expressed words of disbelief and condolence, Light tried to deduce the picture in a factual, logical way. Since Soichiro was not surprised by an incognito, mechanical voice then the eavesdropper could only be L. While Light knew L phrased the event like a newspaper heading on purpose, Light did not think L was one for theatricals.

Radioactive? Chemical?

After a short pause, Light said, "Is it more specific to say their ...stomachs exploded?"

"Please inform me how you arrived at the conclusion," said the mechanical voice.

"Based on the number of victims, their occupation, the time and the day of the week," said Light. He spoke confidently, knowing that his photographic memory and intelligence would not fail him at such a critical time. The competitive part of Light wanted to impress L, wanted to show L that he was made of something worthy. "I guess the victims ingested the chemical explosives at the weekly Team Encouragement Social held every Wednesday from 5:30 to 6:00."

Light estimated seven viable methods that could be used to murder a specific group of people in such an explosive way and that was the one he found most practical. The rest, employing gas, timely injections or surgical incisions, made the timing and location difficult to control. As his mind calculated the logistics, Light tried to tie in the explosion into the other events happening around the world.

There was the mysterious string of intricate murders in Japan, following a convoluted mathematical sequence. Six bodies with crushed lungs using liquid nitrogen, four with torn stomachs via barbs on tiger's whiskers, four bodies at Gakutopi road without a heart. Now, nineteen bodies in Florida and two hundred odd ones in Los Angeles.   

If this was all Beyond Birthday, then what was his goal? Why did the string of events occur after Light stepped into the United States? His egoistic side wanted to believe it had something to do with him, but logically, it was probably just a coincident. Light said, "However, my guess is that this explosion in Los Angeles is not caused by military-grade TNT - that is too difficult to smuggle into a criminal hospital."

"Most impressive," said the voice. Light felt a streak of pride at being praised by L. L, whether or not Light personally worshiped him, was a figure of unlimited influence and power. There was something in Light that wanted to challenge that. L said, "You will both be forwarded information as it becomes available."

"Well, thank you, many thanks, L," said Soichiro.

"I am curious," said L and curious, an emotion, sounded completely out of place when used by that robotic voice. "Why Light Yagami initially faked distress and surprise."

"What do you mean, L?" asked Soichiro.

A brief glare flitted across Light's eyes. L was a bastard for pointing it out and the only reason he pointed it out was to be a bastard. Light could play dumb, but there was a part of him that wanted to beat L in his own game. He wanted to challenge what was globally accepted to be the most brilliant mind in the world.

On the phone, L didn't answer Soichiro and the static buzz echoed.

"I did not fake it. I pushed my emotions aside because I cannot allow myself to be surprised or distressed when my father needed me to be a problem solver," said Light. Being honest, Light was not surprised or distressed. Beyond suggested, with a comparison to sex, that their exchanges were getting dull. When the building went down, Light could only think an explosion was fitting and his intuition must've picked it up much earlier.

"Emotional manipulate to appeal to a parent's pride," said L. Light wondered if  L naturally paid so much attention or if he was an exception. "In the process of not answering the question, you imply you are a martyr to invoke sympathy. I am learning a lot about you." 

If Light was not speaking to L, he would have already vindictively lashed out at the man with words until the other quivered. Except L was just as good at this game and L knew him better than he knew L. Light swallowed to loosen his throat and replied smoothly, "I am also learning a lot about you. Perhaps we can be friends - How was Great Britain?"

Light noticed it last night when he hacked into Beyond Birthday's files. The encryption on the file followed a programming syntax that was most common in Great Britain. The language was original and so was everything else, but that was a giveaway as much as it was a security measure. If everything, from language to processor, was created from scratch, whoever designed the security measures had a British education or spent a lengthy period of time there.

In addition to that, L's speech inflection added to the suspicion.

"Light Yagami would benefit from not jumping to conclusion so quickly," said L.

When the man didn't comment further on the topic, Light knew he'd scored a tiny victory. It was difficult to invent software with technological logic one was not familiar with and Light assumed L only trusted the people closest to him to handle his network security. Which meant whoever created archive likely knew L in person, which meant L may have visited Great Britain for a lengthy amount of time.

"I will contact both of you tomorrow," said L. There was a faint click and the next phrase should have come from a recording, "Upon disconnection, all records of this conversation will be corrupted."

The next day was slow.

Not much could be discovered even though Light went to the site of the explosion and began to go through everything in a far more productive way. With his credits from yesterday, he was eagerly accepted onto the investigation team and Light began working there, carefully going through the feeds from any video cameras nearby. The others thought he was looking for how the bombs were planted, but Light was really looking for one thing in particular - how Beyond Birthday escaped.

In the records, Beyond Birthday was declared to be deceased along with two hundred sixty-six other people. Light scoffed, but didn't correct it as Beyond Birthday's file was marked with a red stamp and archived. The new information that Light uncovered was added into the file, but everything was tossed into a room in the basement.

Turning back to his computer, Light finalized his all the documents he planned to show the department heads.

It was generally accepted that what took down the building was military grade TNT based on the explosion pattern, but Light avoided that path of logic. Instead, he researched alternatives based on how the explosives could have been brought into the hospital. He found that, two weeks ago, about ten thousand capsules of vaccine were delivered to the hospital in order to prepare for a free shots weekend.

If Light wasn't wrong, and he rarely was, the explosive used on the hospital was the same material consumed by the park employees.

What the material was, was the part that even Light had difficulty finding out. Inside the police station, Light didn't have the means to do the hacking he needed to do and his attempts to find out more was terminated as soon as he tried. Some questions were answered, though, when all the laptops and computers in the room beeped in unison and a letter B appeared on the screen. A few people jumped to their feet when the voice came out.

"Good evening, ladies and gentlemen of the Los Angeles police force."

The voice came from all the laptops and computers at once, creepily echoing in unison around the room. It sounded exactly like L's voice disguiser, Light noted. The B appeared to be using the same font style as L too. Eyes narrowed, Light listened as the voice continued to say, "Courtney, Daniel, Fiona, Jason, Hoosun, why don't you take a seat?"

The five people that just jumped out of their seat took a seat nearby and everyone else, who was already seated, looked around nervously. Light wondered if this was only happening in the large open office he was using or if the entire building was seeing this announcement. Light reached for the laptop he was currently using, trying to activate a tracker, and the voice said, "Light, please refrain from any unnecessary movement or people will die."

With less surprise than Light expected, Light pulled his hand back. Then, the voice cackled, "I think, someone will die anyway. Whoever makes the first sound dies."

The room was silent as death as everyone held their breath and didn't dare to move. After almost a minute, there was a beep from one of the laptops and the owner of the laptop, an intern, began crying. The voice said, "A sound! You're lucky, Sarah Brown!"

Light watched as she twisted and squirmed, as if trying to throw something off herself. After seconds of struggle, she went still and her eyes were frozen open. Light turned away as several other people began to dry heave. Nobody else moved for fear of attracting the attention of B. Light guessed that B wanted to show three thing - there was surveillance on the room, he knew each and every one of them quite well and he could kill anyone he wanted.

The how, Light didn't know - yet.

"Now that I have your attention," said the voice. "I would like to introduce myself. I am B. The hospital's explosion and the scene in Florida were both my greeting gifts. If you don't want it to happen again, on a scale that will put what already happened to shame, then you will do exactly as I say." 

There was a pause, which Light assumed was for dramatics, "Eight billion USD. I expect this amount to be paid to the accounts I will provide, divided equally between each account."

As the voice continued to speak, Light evaluated the speaker. American English, but with some intuitive trace of Russian roots. It had certain similarities to L, but Light did not think L had anything to do with B. To commit a murder in public went against everything L stood for. Light could only imagine one real reason why B would present themselves in the way L would have - to discredit L before L appeared.

"The account numbers will be given after you provide evidence that the money is gathered. You have an undetermined amount of time from now until I contact you again to gather the money. Then you have 2 hours to transfer the money. If the eight billion is not ready by then, then I will not give the account numbers and you will not be able to deposit the money and people die. Remember, I am always watching."

After the voice spoke, the line was disconnected and all the screens returned to normal. Most people rushed over to the fallen intern, but Light quickly activated a program on his computer, trying to figure out what happened. Within two minutes, he received notifications that similar announcements were made in New York, Florida, London, Paris, Beijing and six other countries. In each location, at least one person was called out by name and then killed.

It was terrorism and extortion on a global scale, but Light could not imagine this was the beginning or end of it. Light connected himself with a secure server used to share information across countries. As Light listen to the publicized information, he received a new message, an encrypted Email with a large attachment. When he opened it, all he saw were seven pages of gibberish.

It took Light nearly three hours and forty different programs to decode the gibberish and open the attachment, a record in itself. By the end of it, even Light was frustrated beyond belief. The seven pages spelled out, See Me Tomorrow, noon, Where Universes Collide. The attachment was an in-depth report of the explosions in Florida and Los Angeles, along with ten other explosions in the other cities.

After looking everything over, Light sent a message back, without bothering to encrypt anything: This is not terrorism extortion. This is not a demand for ransom. I will meet you, if you really will meet me, at the cafe tomorrow.

No other information could be uncovered.

At a meeting in the afternoon, Light suggested that B was several people at once, an organization and his theory was accepted by everyone else. B's stunt worked and no one dared to contact L, even though the head of a national intelligence agency in Europe was rumored to be able to contact him. L didn't contact anyone in public either and police forces around the world gathered to discuss how the events have unfolded.

Not even Light was able to trace where the announcements were originally made and there were plenty of protocols in place preventing him from doing anything even if he knew what he was doing. He didn't have the clearance level necessary to operate at the level he desired within the United States, too many things needed some kind of supervisory approval. 

In the end, Light gave up trying to work with these buffoons.

He left the police department around 6 in the evening, when another shift took over to continue trying to trace B. The air was crisp when he stepped out and Light felt a sudden urge to do something impulsive. Halfway in his walk home, he took a detour and walked toward a large park that was popular for college students and fresh grads.

"Hello, you dropped your smile."

Pointing on the ground, Light approached the blonde, who blushed as soon as she turned around. Then, inevitably, she smiled and laughed nervously. Her body language read curious, flattered and ready. Light'd picked an innocent looking girl with all-American looks and inexpensive but clean clothes. Judging by the slight drag in her walk, she wasn't looking forward to going wherever she was headed and wanted a distraction.

Before she reacted further, he slipped an arm around her waist and kissed her.

There was the initial reaction of surprise, then mild mortification and finally excitement and curiosity. Light loosened his hold slightly, moving beside her ears to say exactly what she'd want to hear. When he drew away, she looked like she was living in a dream and she eagerly followed him as he steered her toward a nearby hotel.

Light smirked. A quick fuck, he wanted that.

After Light opened his door, he saw that someone was already in the room he planned to use. The person stood in the hallway, leaning against the wall with arms and legs crossed. When he saw Light, the person began walking closer, an obvious slouch in his walk.

Beyond Birthday said, "Lose the bitch."

"Hey!" the girl became angry. The dazed look was being replaced by something more aware.

"Shh," said Light. His gaze settled on Beyond Birthday, noting his unscratched skin and change of clothes. He now wore a white shirt, completed with a pair of loose blue jeans and sneakers. Light had no idea how Beyond Birthday guess he was going to go to his hotel room or how the other entered the room before he did, but Light bet he could figure it out later. Light told the girl, lightly shoving her out of his arms and toward the stairs at the end of the hallway, "Go, he has a gun."

"Damn right I do," said Beyond Birthday, as the girl sprinted toward the stairs.

The gun came into view and Light wish it hadn't. His blood ran cold, then scorched his veins. Beyond Birthday's eyes were like coal, unforgiving and sharp. His head was set with an arrogant tilt and the smirk on his lips could only be described as sadistic. The gun was held incorrectly, but any finger on the trigger would've been effective given the distance. 

Taking control of the situation, Light asked straightaway, "What do you have to do with B?"

"Shouldn't the person holding the gun be asking the questions?" Beyond Birthday stepped forward, Light stepped back and the only sound was the suddenly loud tick-tock tick-tock of a clock in the hotel room. His back hit the now closed door and even though Light knew all about the psychological and physiological responses, something in his body trembled. It must've shown on his face, because Beyond's smirk darkened and he continued to slink closer. "Tell me what you think, Light-Chan."

"B is an organization headquartered somewhere in Russia." Light felt the cold metal of the barrel between his eyes as Beyond slowly forced him down, to his knees. Light had calculated that part, expected that Beyond Birthday would flaunt his dominance in the situation. Light's actions carried a sense of haughtiness, expectancy  laced with boredom, a style that he'd perfected the act of.

Conversationally, Light continued, "You are certainly are in contact with B, but you are only using them to your advantage rather than directing them."

With half of a lazy smirk, Light clasped his hands behind his back, a mockery of how someone would've tied it.  Light didn't think Beyond would kill him like this, it was too easy. But it was equally easy to misfire. The barrel was fitted right against his forehead and any little movement could take his life. 

Any second his life could end.

Light thought he was prepared for anything, thought he had all the possibilities pinpointed and assigned a probability but Light's brilliant mind failed to predict the spike of arousal that flared in the pit of his belly. There was a traitorous part of him that liked losing control. His eyes widened fractionally and he was glad there was no way Beyond Birthday could detect his quickening pulse.    

"Bang," whispered Beyond Birthday.

From his position,  Light literally felt his blood rush away from his brain to head south. He was no longer able to think about B or the terrorism. The man stared down at him, his proximity physical in such a way that Light's body wanted to curl into it and let it consume him. Unable to look Beyond Birthday in the eyes any longer, he turned his gaze to the gun, only to realized what a mistake it was when his lips involuntarily parted and his breath hitched. The excitement that sent his body into overdrive was both feral and unwarranted.

"What's wrong?" said Beyond Birthday. The mockery in his voice was oh-so-delicious. "You look nervous."

Light thanked the God he suddenly believed in that his voice was calm as he said, "You're holding a loaded gun to my forehead."

"I can change that," said Beyond Birthday. The barrel traced over the bridge of his nose, past his lips until the barrel was pressed against the bottom of his chin, tilting his head up. The strain on his spine became painful and his head was tilted so far back breathing became difficult but every ounce of discomfort fueled that damnable need.

Light struggled to act natural in the position, to not let anything except the appropriate coolness show. One of Beyond's finger stroked across his exposed neck like a blade and Light's hips jerked into empty air. Light saw Beyond Birthday cocked his head in surprise and then he leaned in to whisper into Light's ear, his breath impossibly hot and sharp, "I didn't know you'd like it like this."

"Didn't you?" Light hissed when the toe of Beyond's sneakers was pressed between his legs, creating a delicious pressure in the most humiliating way possible. Attempting to push away thrust his crotch closer, weighted his knees into the ground and Light stifled a moan. He was sure the bulge in his pants was visible by now. Light said, speaking through his constricted airway, "You're going to leave a shoe mark on my pants."

"Why don't you bring yourself off?" asked Beyond Birthday. He moved his foot and it was everything Light could do to not grind against the offered sneaker. He let his eyes drift to stare at the polished surface of his door, shoulders shaking with something that was more than rage. Light began counting from one to ten, slowly, in seven languages at once.   

With another cruel smirk, Beyond Birthday pressed harder, made a small circle and every ounce of pride and self-respect shatter. Light arched back into it, helplessly rocking into the other's sole like his life depended on it. Beyond's gun trailed from his chin to his lips and then pushed into his mouth. Without knowing what he was doing, Light licked the barrel, grimacing at the toxic taste of metal and gunpowder. 

"More," said Beyond Birthday. He retracted the gun slightly, then shoved it in again. Light obliged and he was rewarded with another small circle of Beyond's sneaker. Beyond hissed, "That's right, you pretty little whore. Suck it." 

Light knew it was the barrel of a loaded gun that was fucking his mouth and brushing against the back of his throat, but his mind refused to register it as any less erotic. He sucked, licked and tasted the metal until it no longer tasted foreign and moaned around the polished steel barrel as the pace of his dry humping picked up. He spread his knees wider - offering, inviting, begging Beyond to humiliate him, take him, trample him-

To stop was the single most impossible thing he could imagine.

Beyond stroked the trigger, as if he was shooting the gun, and Light came with a cry that was stifled when Beyond rammed the barrel of the gun down his throat. His body shook, a thin film of sweat covered his body and the world spun around him. Lost in the peculiar concoction of shame and satisfaction, Light was only dimly aware of Beyond pulling the gun out and shoving him aside to open the door.

"I said it the first time," said Beyond. He licked his gun briefly and gave Light a dirty grin, "On your knees to please."

The door slammed close.

Chapter Text

"There couldn't have been a body."

Annoyance and impatience tinged Light's inflection, natural reflexes that he didn't bother to hide under his usual polish of calm and polite. Flaking cum stained his pants and there was a jubilant idiot sprouting nonsense about Beyond Birthday's body while he still keenly felt the imprint of Beyond Birthday's shoes. The hotel room had outlived its purpose since Beyond Birthday frightened away the girl, but he'd be damned if he couldn't shower before he leave.

"The pictures aren't available to us," said Matsuda. The man sounded extremely uncertain and Light thought he had every right to feel uncertain, but Matsuda pushed on with his words. "But Beyond Birthday's body was right there, found in his cell."

"Matsuda," said Light. He bit back a yelp when the water of the hotel's shower came out as a thick red liquid with a pungent metallic smell. Another sniff identified the red powdered sugar and some chemical compound with concentrated copper. Rolling his eyes, Light turned the faucet off and washed his hand with clean water from the sink. "There are at least twenty ways for Beyond Birthday to smuggle a body into his cell. A corpse found in Beyond Birthday's cell doesn't mean that body was once Beyond Birthday."

"L speculated the same," said Matsuda. The man sounded enthusiastic and Light noted with minor irritation that L received the news before he did. With one last glance at the hotel room, Light left. "So he advised the LA's forensic team to run a DNA test. Everything matches. The body, without doubt, belongs to Beyond Birthday."

"You don't think someone could've manipulated the DNA data you're comparing the body's DNA against?" asked Light. "Or meddle with the program you're using to compare the DNA data?"

He knew that L was probably listening in on his conversation, analyzing how he raised his voice, analyzing his current mental state and speculating his situation. Damn the fact that Beyond Birthday tampered with the shower and he didn't have a spare pair of pants. He'd be wearing the evidence of this tryst with Beyond Birthday back to his own apartment, have dried semen rubbing against a sensitive part of his body.

Fortunately, there was only a few blocks between the hotel and his apartment.

"Well, it can," said Matsuda. "L thought of that too."

"There you go."

"Chief said to give you a break from the Japanese serial killer because of the explosion and all," continued Matsuda. He sounded as if he was waving someone off on the other end, judging by the way his voice caught for a moment. Light heard the remnant of his cheerful smile as Matsuda continued, "Even if you weren't injured, you might not feel.."

"Five bodies?" asked Light, as he opened the door to his apartment. He closed his eyes and fought the feeling that Beyond Birthday was watching him in the room, with the wicked gun in his hand. His mind was drifting away again, a most unbecoming habit. Kicking off his pants, Light reached for a clean pair. "Dead in a way that is sexual?"

"It's better if I... uh... send it over to you," said Matsuda.

Light opened the email.

There were five male bodies with sutured penises, each killed at the peak of their pleasure. The victims were muscular, in their early twenties and handsome. Their expressions of sinful pleasure didn't match the gory display of their body or the gray-yellow tinge of death. Each victim had a bullet hole in their forehead, at the exact spot Beyond Birthday would've shot Light had he pressed down on the trigger.

Stilling a surge of excitement, Light said, "I bet the killer used a Glock. Did you find the missing body parts from the last case?"

"Thanks to what you and L said, we recovered the hearts," said Matsuda, while Light wondered what his name was so naturally thrown together with L's. Matsuda's recent of habit of answering him with "L thought so too" was one thing. "You and L" was another. While Light tried to evaluate how exactly he felt about L and how the feeling compared to what he felt about Beyond Birthday, Matsuda asked, "Say, Light-kun, any insight how the killers are performing these kills or why they choose this way to kill?"

"It's a game of cat and mouse, but our mouse wants us to catch him," said Light. Based on how L had a more direct access to the case information, he was sure that everybody already heard what he was about to say. Yet, Light knew L was watching and Light wanted to show L that he was also at the head of the game. "The organs destroyed or taken was just the killer's way of being poetic and symbolic. The killer wants to leave a pattern for anyone who can figure it out."

"He or she bases the kills on a cabalistic doctrine of Eastern Enlighten where disciples spent spend a total of twenty years…," said Light. Briefly, Light searched his mind for the right words. He had neither the time nor patience to explain the specific details of their beliefs, but he was certain he'd identified the pattern. "…Annihilating various aspects of their humanity. The locations where the bodies are placed are mathematical convolutions of a geographic coordination system that became outdated fifty years ago."

Light once made a calculation error and followed another sect of the doctrine when he guessed that there would be three bodies with missing hearts, but he was more certain than ever now. Quickly, Light told Matsuda the location, time and style of the next murder. Then, Light's fingers paused atop of his laptop keyboard. "Game over for the Nirvana Killer."

A smile flickered over Light's lips for a second.

It was one thing to calculate the mental logarithms correctly and have his guesses confirmed, but Light was certain that there was more at stake. Criminal masters of this caliber did not simply stop at a few fancy serial kills, no matter how well-executed or intriguing. The systematic patterns and puzzle pieces needed to coalesce into something else. "The Nirvana Killer wants us to catch him. He wants us to know who he is."

But why?

Light knew that Beyond Birthday could not physically be responsible for the crimes, but his ability to seemingly foretell them might have something to do with how he'd deduced Light's name on the first day they met. Beyond Birthday had looked at a spot above Light's head before relaying his name, almost as if he had a supernatural ability to pick up individual names.

"Not sure, Light-kun," said Matsuda. Light rolled his eyes - if he didn't know and Matsuda knew, that was the beginning of the end. Did the man not comprehend the meaning of rhetorical questions or did he envision silence as an invitation for his voice? "Do you think it's all related? The Russian terrorists "B" and the Japanese Nirvana Killer."

"The correlation is not impossible," said Light. Standing from his chair, Light snatched his clothes and made his way to the bathroom. His shower was beckoning to him and if Beyond Birthday did anything to the shower in his apartment, Light was going to eviscerate, exsanguinated and excoriate the man. "I'm more curious about how B constructed that magic show where they seemingly called out people by name and killed them on the spot."

"L wondered the same thing!" said Matsuda, right before Light lost his patience and hung up.

~

At three in the afternoon, the time that Light arranged to meet "L" at the café, a well-dressed gentleman showed up and joined Light's table. The fashion was evidently British, but fashionable. British, which aligned with the coding style Light had been hacking against. Light smiled and greeted, "Good afternoon, Watari."

Unfazed, Watari tipped his hat. "Nice to meet you, Light."

Light brought his mug of coffee into the prepared private space. He'd drank half of his coffee and while Light contemplated if he wanted to finish the rest of his cup, the wall lit up, as if there was a projector beaming at it. Coming from no area in particular, L's mechanical voice filled the space, "Is Light Yagami wondering if the cup is now half-empty or half-full?"

Stilling a tremor of surprise, Light glanced over the rim of his cup and replied, "The cup simply now twice the size it needs to be."

Just as Light predicted, L commented, "Light Yagami is an utilitarian."

"B targeted eleven police headquarters from all over the world," said L. He switched topic without so much as a pause. "We received and cleaned up the data from this global crisis. How does Light Yagami think B called out victims on the spot based on their actions and kill them?"

Light's mind recalled pictures of all eleven victims, analyzing the bends of their limbs, and the look of horror their eyes. Sarah Brown died because she made a noise at the beep of her laptop. John Wicked died because he began to cough after his desktop humidifier "automatically" turned on. No one was supposed to stand up, but Bryan White's chair suddenly collapsed. Light said, "It would've been easy for B to find out the names of all the employees and simple surveillance would be able to tell B who was standing or moving around,"  

"Does Light Yagami believe in supernatural forces?"

"I prefer not to," said Light, with complete candor. Not to say he was a non-believer, but he simply preferred not to factor in supernatural forces because that was when solutions became needlessly difficult to compute. Taking another sip of his coffee, Light said, "You are withholding information from me."

People like L typically wouldn't entertain notions of supernatural deities, but something must've triggered L to ask such a question.

"L, do you know, that Shinigamis like apple?" said L. "I confirmed that B sent this message."

"Shinigamis are Japanese Death Gods."

"Does Light Yagami think that Japanese Death Gods like apples?"

Light replied, "I prefer not to presume."

"Light Yagami is someone who prefers to bend his words to sustain harmony rather than stand up for himself," said L, and for a moment, Light imagined Beyond Birthday in the place of L on his mental chessboard. "An obedient, conflict-avoidant little boy. Light Yagami lives to please - he does not like the idea of supernatural existences, but would rather deliver an ambiguous answer than argue." 

Realizing that his fingers were too tight fisted against his pants, Light loosened up and counted to ten, switching to a different language with each number. Then, with a gentle smile, Light said, "L is someone who likes to push to test how quickly and effectively he can rile up people that he converses with. His mind operates in such a way that he is capable of juggling multiple thoughts at once. He likes to toy with all ideas, no matter how outrageous."

The pronoun had been deliberate, but L did not react. The mechanical voice only droned, "If I dismiss clues for not aligning with my personal belief system, then I cannot be the greatest detective in the world."

"The three greatest detectives in the world," said Light. The only way to impress L, was to challenge him, but he had to chose his battles carefully. Vaguely, Light was aware that he was trying to impress a letter on a wall, but, just like Beyond Birthday, L felt like life. "And you just admitted to having a personal belief system."

"Light Yagami is in possession of a modicum of research skills," said L. The mechanical buzz made his words doubly insulting. "But he must also remember that ignorance is bliss."

"An event that the killer could've controlled precedes all the deaths," said Light. The laptop's beep, the malfunctioning humidifier, the collapsed chair. A bit of preparation by a smart criminal could give the illusion that an act was magical. "As for the struggling, the killer could've hypnotized them to hallucinate an attack from the animal they fear the most?"

"Yes," said L. "The question remains: how did the killer give all eleven victims a heart attack?"

"He could've picked people with underlying heart conditions," answered Light. They would need to research medical records and trample on the laws about patient confidentiality, but everything was doable. In his mind, Light briefly listed nine common-enough heart conditions that could lead to a cardiac arrest, given the right circumstances. Some heart conditions only needed a medicine or word to trigger a relapse.

Hypnotize the victims to hallucinate the animal they fear the most to trigger a heart attack on the spot? The only problem was, not all cardiac arrests were so swift and fatal. Consequently, L said, "The average probability of these victims dying of a natural heart attack, even under perfectly primed circumstances, is less than 1%. Not acceptable."

"More acceptable than supernatural forces," said Light. L could not be one of those individuals who would rather believe in metaphysics than accept that some criminals were highly intelligent, right? Light heard a light crunch and then said, "There is currently a blizzard in Berlin. Please stay warm."

"Is Light Yagami trying to challenge me or impress me?"

There was another crunch, from a kind of candy that Light knew was a favorite in Berlin and was only available in Berlin, with an export ban. Judging from how L's voice came across, Light also deduced, assigning a probably of a little over half, that the man was speaking to him through a cell phone that he was dangling near his ears. "What does Light Yagami want from me, provided that I do, as you hope, become impressed by your deduction skills?"

"Forty seconds," said Light, as the eleven footages of the victim's deaths played in his mind. Struck by sudden inspiration, Light spelled something out with his finger. "There's always at least forty seconds from when B called out the victim to when a heart attack kill them. In two cases, it is forty seconds, plus the amount of time it would take to write out the victim's name."

"I want to conduct an experiment," confessed L, which Light inferred to mean that L already arrived at the same conclusion as he had. "To test if B is able to kill victims on a whim. How much information does B need? A name? A face? Birthday? Blood type? Medical history?"

"L does not view all human lives as equal," said Light. "There are some people that L has deemed appropriate to sacrifice for the greater good. Death row inmates?"

"Light Yagami feels slighted that I interrupted his phone-call with his father, withheld information from him and is a sore loser," said L. "He is currently trying to get even."

"L feels slighted that I judged his moral codes, correctly deduced various facts about him, and is also a sore loser," said Light. "Even if I impress you with my deduction skills, there's not much I can want from a letter on a screen."

"Light Yagami just admitted that he is a sore loser."

Was he? Yes, he was. "It is around the time that the Nirvana Killer should show up for the finale of his murder sequence. I presume you have surveillance set up?"

"The Nirvana Killer wants us to catch him," said L. "You already know that."

The screen flickered from the gothic L to footages of a location that appeared to be the exteriors and interior of an Japanese inn. Eight cameras, from various angles, spied on three individuals gathered around a low table in a large open space. Watari, who'd been almost invisible, stepped up to explain, "We have already set up seventy-two cameras in the area. We are certain that these three individuals are the final victims of the Nirvana Killer."

"The Japanese police force allowed you to use these intended victims as bait to lure out the Nirvana Killer?" asked Light. That did not resonate with how they usually operated, but Light could only surmise that L convinced them. Light turned his attention away from his musing when a figure appeared in the view.

A ski mask covered the man's face and he hunched over while he walked. His gait was careless. The Nirvana Killer, about to set the stage for his final kills. One of the cameras finally caught a full-frontal image of the killer's face and Light recognized the coal-black, liquid fire eyes of Beyond Birthday.

No way.

On the screen, the masked killer tilted his head curiously in a manner that resembled Beyond Birthday's, right before his hand flew to his heart and all the split-views turned into static. Besides Light, Watari curled his lips up into something that wasn't quite a smile and said, "As we expect, the Nirvana Killer came prepared."

~

There was a name for this position. Multiple names, if you cared for specifics, but the most common was Reverse Cowgirl.  

The girl was a leggy brunette with large breasts and perky nipples. Her thighs caged Light's as she arched her back and picked up her speed, bouncing up and down as if her life depended on the cock sliding in and out of her body. With his eyes closed, Light caressed a sensual path from her creamy buttock to her clit.

Their hands intertwined there and Light toyed with the sensitive nub, twisting and rubbing as her moans increased in volume and incoherent words tumbled out of her mouth. Near the climax of their pleasure, she shrieked and flopped onto Light's body, writhing with her hands at her throat. Blood from her slit neck sprayed onto her killer, who stood at the foot of the bed with a box-cutter in his hand.

Beyond Birthday appeared irate, but only briefly.

For a full minute, Light's thundering heart tormented his ribcages.

Thoughts gradually returned.

Everything, since his pretentious, chocolate eyes met Beyond Birthday's black, liquid fire eyes, had been a game.

If he gave into his panic and horror, then he loses. If he shied away, then he loses. If he chose the wrong words, then he loses. He must act… He need to be… The words did not come to his mind, but Light knew that there was only one way to handle the situation if he wanted to keep Beyond Birthday's attention.

"You know," said Light. He shoved the corpse off and sat up. "She was exactly my type and she was an exceptional fuck."

"Was," said Beyond Birthday. Dragging the corpse by her hair, Beyond Birthday pulled the body off the bed and straddled Light. The blade of the box-cutter glimmered as Beyond Birthday pulled off Light's unbuttoned shirt. "So pull your head out of your ass and look at who's in front of you now."

With a respectable amount of calm, Light questioned, "Are you trying to get on my nerves?"

"If I wanted to get on your nerves, I'd rip off your skin instead of your shirt."

"The name of the game is Quid Pro Quo," continued Beyond Birthday, his tone suddenly mellow and inviting. Swiping at a drop of blood, Beyond Birthday licked his bloodied finger and then traced the mix of blood and saliva down Light's chest. Beyond Birthday's belt buckle fell to the ground with a metallic clatter, next to the corpse. "Tit for Tat. Suck me off, child."

Light didn't move, and he wasn't sure how much of his motionless was intentional. 

"Oh, right," said Beyond Birthday. His voice was husky and predatory growl accompanied his word. After circumscribing the blood-warmed blade of the box-cutter a fraction of a hair's breadth above the skin of Light's neck, Beyond Birthday sat back. The blade remained flush against Light's jugular vein, the pressure exact enough to cut into the topmost layer of his skin but not draw blood. "You like feeling like you have no choice."

Beyond Birthday repeated, "Suck me off, you little whore."

Light jolted when music, his ringtone, began to play.

Beyond Birthday reached for Light's cell phone and smirked when he saw the caller. As Beyond Birthday lowered the device against Light's ear, he said, "If I need to repeat myself again, I'm going to kill you. If you say anything moronic, I'm going to kill you."

Slowly, Light reached toward Beyond Birthday's pants.

"Light?" The voice was familiar.

Soichiro probably wanted to talk about the finale of the Nirvana Killer, B and L. Light paused to think. The "accidental" casualties of the three victims in the inn must've prompted authorities to question L's credibility and Light wondered if L still had the green lights to run his experiments to test B's killing prowess.

Light greeted, "Father."

The fabric of Beyond Birthday's pants was supple and the zipper parted easily. Light traced the outline of Beyond Birthday's swelling erection with his index finger, briefly pressed a kiss against the Y-shaped opening and then said, "Did the forensic team examine at the body of the Nirvana Killer yet?"

"That spontaneous fire mutilated his corpse," said Soichiro. There was the muffled sound of flipping paper. "One second."

Into Light's other ear, Beyond Birthday murmured libidinous instructions on how he'd like Light to use his tongue, his lips, his hands. Whenever Light hesitated, the blade teased his skin. Then, Light switched gears. For every order out of Beyond Birthday's mouth, Light obeyed and then improvised, until the swollen organ strained in his hands and Beyond Birthday fell silent.

Soichiro said, "We need to do further analysis before we can offer any logically cohesive conclusion. The memorandums are currently too unreasonable."

"Because the DNA of the Nirvana Killer perfectly matches the DNA of the corpse found in Beyond Birthday's cell?"

Light's hands replaced his mouth as he spoke, pumping a lewd rhythm as he stroked and worshipped the glistening shaft. Beyond Birthday's hips bucked when Light raked a finger down a vein and, Light, with an unrelenting grip on Beyond Birthday's cock, painfully dug a fingernail into the slit.

Smirking as Beyond Birthday stifled his gasp, Light said, "Which also matches the supposed DNA of Beyond Birthday."

"Light, are you hacking into our systems right now?" Soichiro sounded as if he was sure he already knew the answer. "I cannot allow that, even if you are my son."

"No," said Light. Pain and pleasure were two halves of one whole. Taking the just-abused tip into his mouth, Light swirled soothing circles with his tongue and sucked until the organ pressed against the back of his throat. Then Light pulled back. Mouthing the underside of Beyond Birthday's cock, Light added, "No need to hack into the network for such a simple deduction."

The raised veins pressed against Light's tongue as Light took the whole organ into his mouth and down his throat again. He was crouched over one of Beyond Birthday's legs and when Beyond Birthday teasingly nudged against Light's crotch, Light couldn't but push back against Beyond Birthday's thigh, humping his clothed knee.

There was a moment of silence, and then Soichiro said, "Is it true that L invited you to meet him in Russia?"

With his lips wrapped tightly around Beyond Birthday's cock and half the said sock sliding in and out of his throat, Light could only hum to acknowledge his father's words. Each upward jerk of Beyond Birthday's hips stretched Light's throat and thrust his knees against Light's cock.

Several times, the blade almost nicked the skin of Light's neck. But only almost.

"Are you having dinner right now? It's quite late over there, isn't it?" asked Soichiro. Beyond Birthday's hips convulsed and his balls tightened. As Light rode out his own orgasm, Light felt the hot spurts down his throat, inside his mouth and on his face. Light barely registered his father's voice over the salty, musky taste, but he distantly heard, "Your mother worries that you won't adjust to the food there."

"Rest assured, father. What I'm having is…," Light licked a long line from the tip to the base, cleaning up most of the salty white mess, "…simply divine."

"Wonderful. I'll let you rest up, alright?" said Soichiro. He chuckled, and his voice swelled with pride as he said, "You're really flying out to Russia tomorrow. My son is going to work with L on a case of global terrorism."

After the call ended, Beyond Birthday asked, "Simply divine?"

Without saying another word, Light spat out the semen in his mouth.

The woman's corpse was an awkward tumble of limbs in a pool of blood that Light stepped over to pick up his clothes. Her name was Amelia and he bet that Beyond Birthday wouldn't do the honor of cleaning up when Light would be the primary suspect if the police found her body. At least she'd invited him to her residence and he had sufficient privacy.

With his eyes on his reflection, Light began to dress.

"So Light-Chan spits," said Beyond Birthday. With a twisted smile, Beyond Birthday licked his  bloody box-cutter clean. Light's suspicions about Beyond Birthday's sense of responsibility proved to be correct when Beyond Birthday fixed his pants, grabbed his belt buckle and seemingly disappeared into the shadows with a singsong, "What a naughty, naughty boy."

Once each article of clothes was perfectly in place, Light dialed a number. The speaker on the other end greeted him, "Kira-sama."

"I have a DNA sample for you," said Light. With care, Light pulled out the pillowcase he'd spat Beyond Birthday's semen onto and placed it in a disposable plastic bag normally used to store leftover food. "I want to know if this DNA sample also match the DNA data of 'Beyond Birthday'."

"Got it, Kira-sama," said the voice on the other end. "Is there anything else?"

After a final adjustment of his tie and a glance at the dead girl, Light gave the location to the person over the phone and exited the girl's apartment. "You'll see what you need to do when you get here. Bring someone to help you."

"Yes, Kira-sama," said the other man.

After a pause, the phone switched hands and another voice spoke, "Kira-sama. I found something related to the terrorist group B."

"Go on."

Teri Mikami said, "I think they are linked to a secret laboratory underneath an orphanage in London. The orphanage collapsed into a sinkhole five years ago, but I managed to uncover some highly damaged data about a genetic experiment called Project B." 

Chapter Text

"What are you doing on my plane, Beyond Birthday?"

The private jet was infested with eight other people, including the pilot and a handful of bodyguards, but at least Light had a whole cabin to himself. Until Beyond Birthday strolled in, anyway. Light would wonder how Beyond Birthday got on the jet, but that would be a waste of his time.

Beyond Birthday leaned against one of the windows, a corner of his white shirt, sprayed by drops of dried blood, tucked into his jeans. Blood splatter analysis would reveal that the only way blood could fall that way across his shirt if he slit someone’s throat while he was three feet away from the victim. “He’s about to call, you know.”

Beyond Birthday grinned when Light’s phone rang and Teru Mikami's voice came through: "Kira-sama."

"Kira" was an online pseudonym Light once used to post snuff videos of criminals who escaped the justice system. The kills had begun as one of Light's adolescent hobbies, precisely executed and carefully covered up, but his videos had inspired a cult following of criminal killers who'd banded together to create "Kira's Kingdom."

Though Light had long washed his hands, nobody could keep track of how many "Kira" now existed in the world.

"Kira-sama did society a favor deleting a prostitute," said Teru Mikami. The prosecuting attorney was one of the few who knew that Light Yagami was the real Kira and knew him in person. Light normally wouldn’t trust someone so much, but Teru had hacked himself the information and proven himself useful thus far. "We have banished the body and who the woman was from existence itself."

"Do you really think I'm real, Light Yagami?" asked Beyond Birthday. The white-knuckled grip on Light’s wrist drew blood when Beyond Birthday dug his fingernails in. Light didn’t know when Beyond Birthday moved from his casual slouch near the window, but he didn’t care either. "Do you think an internationally wanted criminal can board L’s private jet like Light-chan’s favorite travel pillow?"

"The DNA sample found at the address only matches the DNA of a Japanese detective named Light Yagami and the dead girl," said Teru Mikami. “May I-“

“No, you may not,” said Light and clicked to end the call. He didn’t bother to deliver the further instructions that this call must be rendered untraceable. To date, Mikami hadn’t failed him and Light didn’t expect him to.

Teru Mikami, perfunctory and respectful as usual, simply thanked Light (which Light heard through a surveillance chip on Mikami’s phone rather than through the phone call). Glancing at Beyond Birthday, Light Yagami said, "You swapped the pillowcase."

"Ask L for footage," Beyond Birthday said. "Big Brother is watching, sweetheart. Ask him for footage of your flight.”

Useless, as Light had already manipulated the surveillance system before he boarded the plane. Even if L figured out that the cameras had been tampered with, L would not be able to retrieve the original recordings. Unfortunately, as a side-effect of his plan, Light himself was also not able to access the videos.

Beyond Birthday whispered into his ear, “I’m not here, you motherfucker."

Light gave the statement no more than a second’s worth of thought. If Beyond Birthday truly had plans to approach Light while he was on the plane, he would have come prepared. Would have had plans in place to erase traces of his presence, to have messed with the security feeds, and do whatever else it took.

Beyond Birthday said, “You want me so badly that you began to hallucinate me. Is that what this is about?”

Light gave him a cool, pointed, look. “I always get what I want.”

“No, you don’t,” said Beyond Birthday. The crazy-man glower was back in his eyes, contorting his features into something monstrous as he licked the fleck of Light's blood off his fingernails and began to walk backward. “Humans never get what they want because the things they get aren’t things they want anymore and then they forget why or how they wanted it in the first place.”

“What about you?” asked Light. “Are you human?”

Beyond Birthday laughed.

And laughed.

~

Even after Light stepped down from the private jet, left the airport and traveled with Watari to their destination, he could hear Beyond Birthday’s laughter ringing in his ears. It was only after he entered the building Watari led them to that dead silence, the sort of extreme silence only found in outer space, replaced the sound of Beyond Birthday’s cackle.

The magnificent space, designed like a production set from a movie set hundreds of years into the future, unfolded before Light’s eyes. In six seconds, Light counted over a hundred security cameras, but he would wager that there were at least double or triple the amount visible to the naked eyes.

"You are no longer allowed to follow me." Watari held up a hand. Once Light stopped following him, he bowed and said, "Welcome. The platform in the middle can take you to the next floor. Each floor contains one of the most difficult cases in the world for you to solve or a task you must complete before you are taken further."

Then the walls behind Watari opened into an elevator.

As soon as Watari stepped inside, the elevators closed, blended into the wall, and the doors disappeared as if they'd never been there in the first place.

Light looked around. Asian tapestries. North American plastic. Australian Steel. Ice statues from Antarctica. European lighting fixtures. South American furniture. Twisting down on the antler of a statue crafted from African gold, Light wasn’t surprised when the deer statue suddenly turned to stare at him and whispered: "Does Light Yagami believe in supernatural forces? I hacked into one of the surveillance cameras in B's headquarters."

The entire floor of the "lobby" flickered to life.

Displayed on the enormous screen underneath Light’s foot, dozens of staunch cuffs, coils upon coils of thick chains and legions of restrictive devices all appeared to be connected to absolutely nothing. Every then and now, the mechanism would jiggle as if there really was something powerful, invisible and alive inside the contraption.

After playing the video for five seconds, the floor resumed its original look of gold-flecked marble tiles.

"What's the most outrageous theory Light Yagami can construct given Beyond Birthday, Project B, and Shinigami?"  L’s mechanical voice droned from what seemed like every nook and cranny of every nook and cranny in the large room. Light could hear that distinctive crunch again.

If L really was waiting for him somewhere in this building, then it was safe to say that export ban on candies didn’t apply to the world’s greatest detective. L whispered, "Give me the craziest, the wildest, the most unreal hypothesis while I move Light Yagami's pawn to E6 and move my own pawn to c6."

Light narrowed his eyes. He would never expect L to play fair, but why would L offer him an opening that would allow him to take control of the centerboard? Because L was an arrogant sonuvabitch who thought he could beat Light in chess even if he gave Light a leg up over him. "Knight to F3."

Well, if that was today's game, then Light could start his own game. Quickly, Light searched his mind for another board game with a similar complexity as chess. "Pawn 7 plus 1. Project B could have been an experiment to clone Beyond Birthday, one of the greatest criminals in the world."

 "Cannon 2 equals 3," said L, who didn’t miss a beat before making his move on the new game. Then, back to chess, "Pawn to D5."

"Cannon 2 equals 5 and Knight to C3," said Light, who had no problem playing a game of chess, playing a game of Chinese chess, and solving for the chemical composition requested of him on the second floor at the same time.

As Light recreated the chemical composition that was a brain tissue preservative used to successfully facilitate the world’s first human brain transplant, the platform in the middle began to move, welcoming him to the third floor. "The preternatural creation of human lives caught the attention of the death gods, specifically the Japanese death gods, the Shinigami."

Who apparently likes apples?

But why Japanese death gods?

"Knight to F6 and Elephant 3 plus 5. So Light Yagami does believe in supernatural forces." There was another subdued crunch, but this one was softer – not candy. Light's eyes flickered when he acknowledged the sound and L added, "I refuse to share my cookies with you, Light Yagami."

"Pawn to E5 and-"

L interrupted, "Knight to E4."

"Knight to E2-"

"Queen to B6."

"Pawn to D4-"

"Pawn to E6."

"F Knight to G1." A redundant move, but small sacrifices had to be made for bigger goals. Light's tactic worked. The redundant move caused L to fall silent for a moment, which allowed Light enough time to continue speaking, "And Advisor 6 plus 5. Perhaps the death gods who descended to investigate the artificially created lives were captured by B?"

"Light Yagami likes to disclaim his opinion by disguising them as a query and he plays dirty." L said, "Does he think that capturing the death gods granted B the ability to kill with only a name and face?"

"L likes to pretend he knows how other people think," said Light, who, on the twentieth platform, was currently breaking down a cruise ship murder. He’d so far managed to prove that the cause of death was a symptom known as ‘Dry Drowning’ but he had no evidence to convict the murderer yet. "L likes to win."

"I can make you wait a very long time before the game continues."

Light gave a polite incline of his head in response and opted not to speak, instead focusing on quickly replicating the poisons and chemicals that were the answer to this floor’s puzzle. L was forcing him to use alternative formulas. Ricin in honor of a case in 1978, Succinylcholine chloride to honor a case in the 1960s, and a dose of Hyosine for 1910.

When he detected that there was a subtle shift in the speed L was chewing on his newest snack, Light finally commented, "Just because you yourself are impatient does not mean I can't wait a very long time before the game continues."

"Pawn to F6 and Horse 2 plus 4."

"L is indeed not a patient person," Light concluded. "Pawn to F3 and Cannon 8 equal 6. So, to continue my outrageous theory, B reached out to the world's most powerful organizations to unite humanity against the enraged death gods."

"That's a crazy idea, Light Yagami," L said, with a tiny hint of reprimand, as if he wasn’t the one who asked for the most outrageous theory that Light could concoct given Beyond Birthday, Project B and Shinigami. After a moment, L added, "I am a very patient person. Chariot 1 equals 2."

"Horse 8 plus 7," said Light. “L is extremely egoistic. Making me re-solve some of the cases that he already solved.”

 “I simply want evidence,” said L, as Light approached a floor that played out the timeline of the development of Kira’s Kingdom. Light had committed his first kill (simply out of morbid curiosity) at the age of eleven and moved onto grander things by the age of thirteen. But by then, the cult following of Kira’s Kingdom and copy-cat murders was too multifarious to contain.

There are those who make the law, there are those who enforce the law and there are those who break the laws.

Clearly, much like Light, L thought himself above any country’s man-written laws.

Though short phrases were still uttered to move the mental chess pieces, Light had already calculated out all of the possible outcomes and the game was starting to phase out in his mind. As Light hacked into the deep webs, then the dark webs, bypassed all the cyber-walls and tore down the cyber network of Kira's Kingdom, he knew L won before L declared, "Pawn to b5. Checkmate, Light Yagami."

Even as the platform in the middle grumbled again, allowing Light access onto the next floor, he knew Kira’s Kingdom would resurface. Like a hydra, with renewed ferocity and vitality. This was not the first time he tore down the network and it was likely would not be his last, but it was his last task before the platform took him to another floor, one where a boy around his age waited for him.

The familiar liquid-fire black eyes and wild, black hair.

Light’s eyes widened momentarily. Then he said, “No.”

L was a hunched figure crouched on an oversized computer chair, in front of dozens of glowing monitors and whirling machines. He wore a white shirt and blue jeans, but everything, from his sitting position to the bags under his eyes, was identical to Beyond Birthday. “I was wrong. Project B was an experiment to clone the greatest detective in the world. Advisor 6 minus 5."

"Light Yagami is right," said L. His natural voice was a smooth, velvety timbre. Remarkably similar to Beyond Birthday, but lacked an animalistic edge. There was a plate of strawberries covered in white chocolate and mascarpone cream next to L, along with a castle built out of sugar cubes and the rest of the box of cookies L had been unwilling to share.

Scratching the side of his face, L added, "I am a sore loser."

L's only possible move was Chariot 3 minus 4, which Light could follow with Advisor 6 plus 5, exactly as Light planned, sixteen moves ago. All the facades, maneuvers, and set-ups built up to exactly this moment of inevitable victory on the second chessboard.

Faced with yet another vision of the man who'd haunted him since their fated meeting at the basement of a hospital, Light said, "Checkmate, L."

Whoever L was, he certainly wasn’t Beyond Birthday. You could change the cadence of your speech, disguise your accent, control your micro-expressions, change the rhythm of your walk and hypnotize away your innate personality, but nobody could fake being real.

And, from the first moment Light laid eyes on L, it was apparent that Beyond Birthday was nothing more than a flawless but unnatural imitation of the man right in front of him. No matter how softly Light spoke, his voice echoed loudly in the sterile room they currently were in. “What would have happened if I failed to solve any of the floor’s cases or puzzles?”

Based on the curvature of L’s spine and the fold of his knees, L had been sitting this way since he’d been a toddler. Whereas the Beyond Birthday in Los Angeles learned the behavior at most five years ago. “You will find yourself back in your bedroom in Japan with no memory of my home and no memory of ever meeting Beyond Birthday.”

Home.

L reached for one of his strawberries and began sucking the white chocolate coating off, slow, steady pumps made sensual by his tongue’s tendency to dart out to catch a fallen drop of chocolate or cream. But, watching the innocent, childlike look on L’s face, Light was almost willing to bet that the world’s greatest detective was still a virgin. As L watched him watching him, L held out one of the atrocious confections and offered, “Would Light-kun like a strawberry?”

Light briefly pursed his lips when he bit into the strawberry. The chocolate and cream were so sweet it made him nauseous but the berry was so sour it stung his tongue and rendered the side of his mouth numb. Light dropped the rest of the strawberry into his mouth, chewed a proper number of times, and swallowed.

“If you already knew I was going to play a prank on you, why did you take it?”

“Because you offered, L,” said Light, who never wished more for a cup of water. “What kind of friend will I be if I refuse the first gift my new friend gave me?”

L beamed. Then, he discarded his current snack, the uneaten strawberry, and reached for another. As he began the process of licking the white chocolate and cream off again, he pulled up the video clip of the restrained, invisible entity. Light pointed to one of the cuffs. “There’s something in the reflection there.”

“I know, Light-kun,” said L. He then paused the video, zoomed onto the cuff, then pulled up another picture, a clearer image of the cuff that he’d already re-rendered with another software earlier.

Sarah Brown

Sets an alarm on her computer for 12:51PM, Monday…

But it could not be as simple as a report on what’d happened. L said, “Based on my experiments, these words were written before the terrorists contacted the police headquarters.”

Vaguely guessing at the sort of experiments L could have performed, Light said, “Someone wants us to believe that they are able to control not only the victim’s death, but the events leading up to their death by writing it on a notebook.”

Based on the way the ink was absorbed by the piece of paper, the words were written on a stack of paper rather than a singular piece of paper. But his words sounded too much like a question to Light’s ear. Scowling the feeling away, Light held out his hands, palm side up and asked, “May I have access to this machine for a minute?”

“Light-kun may only use one finger,” said L, who was currently licking a drip of melted chocolate off his fingers. L was on his third strawberry, and the idea of touching the same keyboard L uses delivered a vague sense of revulsion at the back of Light’s throat. “I must very carefully monitor the activities Light-kun performs on my processor, you understand.”

Though Light only did use one finger (on a whim, he chose his middle finger) to type on the surprisingly aseptic keyboard, it wasn’t difficult to control L’s supercomputer. According to the reflection, which revealed more when Light fiddled around with the electromagnetic settings, John Wicked had set up his own humidifier and Bryan White had loosened several screws on his chair an hour before he was killed after yelling out when his chair collapsed.

Amongst the other things he was sure L already figured out.

When Light un-paused the video, L said, “I was only able to observe for nineteen seconds before my access to the surveillance camera was revoked.”

At the 13 second mark, the cuff moved. Slowly dragging two inches across the floor. As if there really was an invisible creature waking up from a lengthy slumber. Then the video clip ended. Returning to an earlier scene and pulling away ten seconds of the clip for re-rendering and reimaging, Light said, “There is something within the chains. It’s distorting the infrared waves. If you replay these ten seconds in a forced pseudo-micro-g environment overlay, you can hear— a rhythm that sounds like laughter.”

“But why was this prison built at least six thousand meters below sea level?” After using the light’s reflection to determine the material the cuff was made of, Light had determined the material used to build the cell when the cuff dragged across the floor. The material would’ve simply crumbled to dust if it was placed anywhere near sea level and was optimally used in machines designed to function in the ocean’s abyssopelagic zone.

Exactly one minute after his finger first touched L’s keyboard, Light lifted his hand and stepped away.

L, who was still on his third strawberry, appeared to be ever-so-slightly impressed. Light had finally passed L’s test and the innocent, childlike look returned to L’s face. Lifting his arm in a way that gave the impression that he'd never done such a thing before, L offered a limp-wristed hand out for a handshake and commented, “By the way, Light-kun, I am not a virgin.”