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Light Yagami had been caught, arrested, handcuffed like a common criminal. He seethed at this turn of events. Near had cheated. He couldn’t outwit Light, so he stole the Death Note from that idiot Mikami and used him to trap Light. Yes, Mikami had gotten Light into this situation. Now Light would get himself out.
Fortunately, the meeting had been in America, Albuquerque to be exact. If he was tried in America, or an international court, it’d be much harder to convict him than in Japan. While the authorities figured out what to do with Light, he called a lawyer.
He wasn’t used to America, so he’d had to ask the others in the jail (criminals) who to call. They’d all said the same thing: “Better call Saul.”
So, now Light was sitting in the interrogation room, waiting for this mysterious Saul they said would make everything right. Naturally, once this Saul helped Light get out of this, Light would kill him since he too was a criminal. Finally, the door opened, and a suit-wearing man with a bad comb-over and truly obnoxious smile entered.
“Hey there! So you’re Light Yagami, the big suspect in town! Nice to meet you. Saul Goodman at your service!” He reached out to shake. Out of obligation, Light did so.
“So, you say anything stupid, and by that, I mean anything at all?” Saul said.
Light grimaced. But he had to be honest so, “The police, no. But I told the task force I’m Kira. And defended all that Kira’s done in a bid to convince them to follow him too.”
Saul “At the warehouse you mean? At this “meeting”?”
“Yes,” he said. “I must have been delirious due to-“
“Sure, sure,” Saul said waving a hand. “What can you tell me about how this “Death Note” supposedly works?”
“What Death Note?” Light said, deciding to feign insanity again.
“Don’t play dumb. Or if you do, play it convincingly. You and that Near guy talked about this Death Note, stuff about Shinigamis and the like. So, tell me, how does it work? What are the rules? How might one…creatively use them?”
Light normally wouldn’t tell him, or anyone this knowledge. Especially not someone who acted like a sleazier Matsuda. But he was desperate and he supposed that this man might have some kind of plan. So, he said, “If it were real, then theoretically…”
Later
Light and Saul sat in front of the prosecutors.
“Your client confessed Saul. Dead to rights. Even you’re not getting him out of this,” the prosecutor said.
“He’ll almost certainly be extradited, either to Japan or, for the amount of people he’s killed, an international court,” said another. “Either way he’s facing the death penalty.”
“Really?” Saul said, faking being taken aback. “Is that how you treat the mentally ill? You just kill them?”
The man blinked. “I…beg your pardon?”
“My client has a history of mental illness, such as when he suspected himself of dissociative identity disorder as a High Schooler-“ When Light implemented his plan to gave up possession of the Note and his memories. “As well as other incidents that hint toward him being deluded. He was also cleared of being Kira by seasoned investigators at least twice. Plus, at the warehouse everyone’s name was written in the notebook and none of them died.”
“Near swapped the notebooks,” the prosecutor said.
“Near probably also said that he has a girlfriend in Canada. The fact is, nobody tested the notebooks in the warehouse, so nobody knows.”
Saul held out his hands dramatically. “So what makes more sense, that this honors student turned highly successful private detective-“ When Light caught criminals that weren’t Kira (then killed them after). “-was secretly a mass murderer using his diary, or that he just had an episode during a stressful meeting and went on a delusional rant?” Saul’s eyes hardened. “All it takes is one juror.”
“All it takes is one conviction. And we have lots of charges to bring against him.”
“All of which center on that notebook-“ he pointed to the one on the prosecutor’s desk. “Being legitimate.”
“The government is looking into testing it.”
Light’s eyes narrowed. They likely intended to pull another Lind L Taylor, sue the book to execute a death row inmate who’d been hidden from Light.
Saul smiled. “Let’s try it now.” He clicked a pen, then snatched the notebook from the prosecutor before he could stop him. The prosecutor dove for it while the guards trained their guns on Saul.
Saul backed away from them and quickly wrote a name in the notebook. “James Morgan MgGill.” He held it out for all to see. “My legal name. Now, let’s wait forty seconds.”
The seconds ticked by, bit by bit. 37…38…39…40.
Saul suddenly clutched his chest. He took a deep breath…and let out a loud cough. “Sorry, allergies,” he said with a phony smile.
When Saul said he wanted to meet a Shinigami, Light refused. More accurately, he’d pretended he had no idea what Saul was talking about until Saul brought up the others’ comments. After some convincing, Light reluctantly had allowed Saul and Ryuk to meet.
“So you’re Ryuk?” Saul said, holding out an apple.
“Yeah, that’s me,” Ryuk said, eating the apple.
“The Death Note kills the people whose names are written in it, right?” he said.
“Yeah, that’s right.”
“What if they have an alias? Or legally changed their name?”
“The name they identify as truly theirs, is the one that will kill them.”
“So, if say you practiced under another name, one that you saw as yours, but legally had another name, which one would kill you? Or to put it another way, what name is over my head right now?” he said.
Ryuk chuckled. “Oooh, I think I see where this is going.”
The prosecutors looked amongst themselves, utterly stunned at what had just happened.
Saul’s smile became a bit more threatening. “So, you were saying about proof?”
The prosecutors stared wide-eyed. They looked amongst themselves.
Forty minutes later, Light had agreed to plead guilty to several minor crimes he’d committed while leading the task force, which would give him a few months in jail and several years probation. The best part? The Death Note would be returned, as his private property.
“The SPK tried to swap it out again, but we made sure they couldn’t,” Saul said, holding it out. “I have my own contacts in the police. They made sure to authenticate it. The police won’t be sneaking a fake on you.”
Light wondered if he or his proxy had actually killed someone or found some other way to authenticate. Either way, the Death Note was to be his again. Fortunately, Light knew why the writing actually failed. And he knew which name would succeed. “Thanks a lot Mr. Goodman. You’re an incredible criminal lawyer.”
“Of course,” Saul said with an oily smile. “If you’re ever in trouble in Albuquerque again, be sure to call Saul.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.” I’ll say it at your funeral. Light shook his hand once last time and took the Note. As Saul walked away, Light took out the notebook and wrote the name. Saul Goodman.
Light checked his watch and wait, all while Saul haplessly checked his phone.
37…38…39…40.
Saul coughed. He held his chest. Light smirked. Saul then bent over and…pulled out a pen. He jotted something in a notebook, then turned to Light. “Something wrong Light?”
Light’s eyes widened.
Mike Ehrmantraut arrived in a desolate part of the desert. He opened his bag and pulled out a black notebook. On its front was the title, “Death Note.”
“As I said Light, don’t worry. The police won’t put a fake one on you.” Saul leaned in and whispered. “That doesn’t mean I won’t.”
Light shook with rage. “You…”
“Don’t pretend you didn’t just write my name down. Plus, you have such lousy impulse control, you’d probably get yourself caught again soon enough. I’m doing you a favor. Now, you’ll never have to worry about getting caught again. And best of all, you won’t even remember I did it.”
Light’s rage turned to horror.
Mike placed the Note in a bin, he poured kerosene all over it.
The Shinigami hovered over him. “You know, you don’t have to destroy it. He’ll never know.”
Mike glanced at the book, then at the matches in his hand. “You’re right. He wouldn’t.”
“So why not keep it? You can kill anyone you want. No risks. You could even have them send you all their money for your granddaughter.”
Mike struck the match. “Because I agreed to a job.” He dropped it. Flames leaped up from the oil, filling the bin. Mike watched as the book’s pages slowly became discolored, then began curling in on themselves as the fire consumed them.
“Awww, that’s too bad. I guess I should go now. I have business to do.”
Light’s mind cleared. Wait, what was he still doing here? “Thanks for the help Mr. Goodman.”
“Any time Light,” Saul said, looking even smugger than usual.
Light walked away, glad he’d washed his hands of such a sleazy attorney.