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The Other Side of the Mirror

By: evisceratinglilly
folder Death Note › Yaoi-Male/Male
Rating: Adult ++
Chapters: 4
Views: 3,581
Reviews: 3
Recommended: 0
Currently Reading: 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Death Note or any of its characters nor am I making a profit out of this fanfiction.
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02. Lie to Me

1:00 AM.

That meant that somewhere in the world, to someone else in military time, was 1300 hours.

The same numbers kept coming up in Mello's head, flashing endlessly in a faded, beating mesh. 1300 hours--13 books... 13.

Why was this number so familiar? Why did everything seem to have such a familiar, chiller essence from past events? Above all, why did his instincts gear in with a gut-wrenching pang every time the number thirteen kept flooding his head? There was only one person that number ever belonged to--it was signature trademark of his persona, of who he identified with, of what he engraved in the brilliant minds of Wammy's most gifted...

But that person was dead. Beyond dead--probably a decomposed mass of bones or dust 13 feet below ground. Yet the blond still couldn't help the slight tingle of fear that rose goosebumps over his exposed arms and the hair in the back of his neck with an electrifying aftermath.

No, this was just pure coincidence. Probably some joke... or just a horrible coincidence karma or fate cruelly inflicted upon him. But he still couldn't help that sliver of gut instinct that told him otherwise, that told him something was there, something that knew all of them so well, something that wasn't coming about with such a friendly welcome and knew how to perfectly cruise into their minds as if they were an open book.

"Mello...?"

Matt shadowed the entrance to one of the grand rooms in the manor where Mello and himself slept, looking like a somber, messy heap and reeking purely of cigarettes. He was holding two mugs, both swirling scalding fumes and rich aroma of java and cocoa.

Mello, who was sitting on a chair near the bed, spine dipped halfway in an arch to rest his elbows on his knee and chin perched upon the bridge of his connected hands, looked up with entirely too many emotions coloring his features and were knitting a scowl between his eyebrows. "What is it, Matt?"

The redhead chuckled and shook his head, finally entering the room and sat on the edge of the bed across the irked blond. "You know, one day, your face will stay like that and there's nothing you'll be able to do about it. Chillax, man. Here, I brought you some hot chocolate." Matt said smoothly, making the mug available for taking. "Thinking too much is definitely not good for your health either. See what it did to L..." The redhead faked shivering at the thought.

"Oh?" Mello responded, grabbing the tantalizing cocoa concoction his lover had bothered to bring him. The delicious chocolaty aroma was temptation enough--refusing it was not an option. "And you think playing video games and being engrossed in computer screens 24/7 is?"

Matt snorted. "At least my meals aren't solely composed of different types of chocolate."

Mello had to laugh. He couldn't be mad at Matt... not Matty, not his lover who stuck by him through thick and thin and accepted him even knowing how he had gotten into the mafia. Even though he was so languid from all the events that had occurred in the past 24 hours, the gamer could always find a way to kick him back into gear without much effort. For that, he was thankful more times than he cared to voice or show.

"Ey... how's your hand, by the way?" Matt was careful to approach and examine and to even ask; it had been such a touchy subject with the blond--he didn't want to upset him again like he had done earlier and that time, making snark remarks and laughing to add some lightness to the tension permeating the air did not do the trick. At all.

"Oh... er..." Mello stared at the bandages. Some blood had seeped through. The sting was also there, but it was faint and not as bad as earlier. "Listen, Matty, about earlier..."

"S'fine, Mell. No hard feelings." He raised his hands, flickering the subject away before disguising himself behind the rim of the mug filled with coffee--helped him stay up when soda wouldn't cut it anymore.

"Thanks." Even though he still felt the need to apologize thoroughly for his insensitivity towards his lover's worry, Mello knew that his gamer would just keep batting the subject away because he had gotten over it already. He couldn't help it, however. The fire had caught him off guard, the book shelf had tipped over and one blazing book had landed exactly on his open palm. Of all the times to not wear gloves, he had chosen that. What were the odds? What a terrible coincidence. But it wasn't because he'd been caught off guard that he was really mad earlier in the day. The bookshelf partially engulfed in flames had brought horrible flashbacks of the explosion back when the Kira case was still open... back when Kira still reigned like the almighty god he deemed himself to be, back when everyone was a fool and bowed down to him. Kira didn't deserve that glory, he was already perfect before becoming a warped psycho.

Mello, on the other hand, needed it to show that albino twit how much of competition he really had--the potential he had to surpass his brilliance, to really claim the thrown as L's successor. No longer would he be thought inferior to Near's intelligence and no longer would he be undermined and demeaned for being second best against a child younger than himself.

"Drop it, Mihael."

Sometimes it was impressive how Matt could easily tell what was going in his mind. It showed how well he knew him and how much he really cared even though he'd been subjected to put his life on the line for the sake of Mello's haste.

"How do you know I'm not thinking about preparing dinner or something, Matt?"

Matt had to truly pull off the most serious expression of the century at that statement. "Oh please, Mell. Do you take me for an idiot? Just because I'm not some top notch genius doesn't mean I'm stupid. I've been enough times with you to KNOW how to tell apart one thing from another when it comes to you."

Okay... Mello had to give him mad props for that one--it was probably true.

"Whatever." There he went again, not being able to stand the heat.

"Mell, don't even--" but Matt had no time to talk anymore. His lover had already gotten up from the chair in one fluid movement, settled the cocoa on a nearby vanity stand, grabbed a fistful of the redhead's shirt and crushed their lips together with hasty passion and fervent desire, leaving the gamer to stand there like a deer caught in headlights, not knowing what to do. It made him feel idiotic at times, and yet, others, it set the perfect mood. He'd been craving the clad figure of his lover all day, and often times he found himself hard just because of the thought, and this time his own hand would definitely not do.

Even so, what had caused the sudden impulse in Mello to attack him so passionately like that?

"Are you okay? Wait, don't tell me, you have a bad case of bipolar... amiright?" And there went Matt with his playful banter, taunting the blond, knowing how it could start but would end.

"Ha ha, you're oh so very funny, Matty. You should be a comedian."

"I know. I've been told that quite a couple of times~"

Mello swatted his hand against Matt's shoulder, pulling him down with force unto the bed to straddle him comfortably, instead of standing there like two idiots, talking. "Maybe you missed your true calling. Perhaps gaming and being trained to be a great detective like L wasn't suppose to be your future."

"Maybe." The sentence was cut short giving Matt the opportunity to snake his arms around Mello's taught little form, pulling him closer to his own body heat--oh no, his hard on would not forget that it was still there, painfully awaiting treatment--and was quickly surprised that Mello hadn't teased him further and reciprocated by pulling him into another one of his deliciously passionate kisses while causing a certain amount of friction that had both grinding in unison and uttering slight grunts of lust.

This night was turning to be more interesting than Matt had expected it to be.

Maybe he shouldn't of have left his game in pause--this was going to consume some of his time...

* * *

There was the sound of water rushing out of a faucet loudly and with a loaded amount of pressure. Pale, thin hands suddenly cupped underneath the gushing flow.

L had wandered into the bathroom, over-analyzing the call he'd receive earlier from Roger.

13 books.

It only sounded blatantly familiar because it was the only person in his past that had put a terrifying meaning behind that number, had related a letter to that number... had related a name to that number, a name that only haunted the darkest memories of his childhood at Wammy's.

But the man he slept with--the man he was sleeping with currently, his former enemy had taken care of that problem long ago, so it was impossible to even come to such a thought. No one could ever survive the workings of a Death Note--once a name was written, it couldn't be undone, unchanged. That person would die--no other option, no other fate and no survival. Kira never made mistakes unless he was doing one of his trail and error tests.

Unless...

No. That would be ridiculous.

After splashing his face with some water, the detective turned to stare himself at the mirror. His sleepless nights made everything surreal but his own reflection was something he could never forget even if he attempted to. It was forever engraved--forever burned into his gray cells...

But tonight, it seemed blurry. The vision of his reflection, of his double copying him in the other side seemed like a haze--distant, marred and beyond recognition.

His hand lifted and touched the cool surface of the reflective glass--his double copied the action in unison. Why did fate bring that number back into his life? Even horror movies knew that the unlucky history behind that number appearing randomly to a person wasn't a good sign.

So why him and why today?

But most of all... why him?

"You're not real, you know." A slender finger traced across the glass and slid down. The stoic expression gazing endlessly into obsidian pools, tracing the contours of his nose, the bags under his eyes, the tufts of hair carelessly swept halfway into his face...

"I'm as real as you want me to be, Lawli."

L gazed up again, took away the hand pressed against the mirror as if something had been burning it and stiffened at the mention of part of his real name. He was still staring at himself, but the eyes... the eyes were a deep, bright crimson.

"You don't look surprised to see me. How disappointing." The mirror reflection pressed knuckles to his chin, letting his shoulders drop and sag with a loud, stressed sigh. "What gave it away?"

L's eyelids dropped to a half-lidded gaze. He had the deadpan down to a beauty, but internally, his heart was about to beat out of his throat and his organs were doing back flips. "You tell me... Beyond."

"Oh, this game! IwannaplayIwannaplay... hm." Fingering his lower lip, the mirror image looked deep in thought, a light smear of what looked red and gooey painting his finger and now coloring his lip. "Mmm, the jam in the fridge?"

The owlish detective deadpanned.

"Was it that obvious? I thought you liked strawberry jam on your sweets?"

"It wasn't the jam in the fridge, B." And leave Mello and Matt alone he wanted to voice, wanted to emphasize, but the words didn't seem to come out of his mouth. His lips involuntarily had their own mind and wouldn't move on mental command.

"Or else what, Lawli?" Beyond's--still trapped on the other side of the mirror--voice dropped the playful inflections, his expression shadowing to something a little more serious and penetrating. The look alone was lifting goosebumps over L's arms.

The detective's breath hitched in his throat. Was B able to read thoughts?

No, no. It must have been clear in his... well... in whatever expression could be read in L's eyes that made it obvious. If you could call it expression at all.

"Or else I'll have to take care of you myself." The panda-esque detective had turned to walk toward the door, but a bony, pale hand plunged in his direction and grabbed a fistful of his white sleeved shirt, hauling him back toward the faucet. Another cold, bony hand was added, constricting the skin along the side of his neck. Beyond pressed his lips to L's ear, breathing hard and long gusts of sharp air before sticking his tongue into his ear, distracting the obvious wondering hand fondling his shoulder until it reached his chest and clutched.

"Oh Lawli, your heart is beating at a gagillion beats per second. Shouldn't you be dead by now?"

"Shouldn't you have been long ago?"

B's facial expression became harshly darker and sinister--his eyebrows furrowed, his eyelids sunk into the depressions the light couldn't hit, well-hidden in darkness and only the juts of bone the wan of light could hit were visible. "That was a mistake, Lawli..." his voice had sunken to a low, scratchy tone. The hand pressed against L's chest suddenly tore into the skin, sinking and drooling with blood, stabbing deeper into the skin and muscle in search for his heart, elbowing more force until L dropped limp and lifeless.

With a sharp gasp of air, L awoke from his nightmare drenched in sweat, hyperventilating and holding a preoccupied looking--awake--Light.

"L... are you okay?" Light was quick to slowly lift himself from his cuddled position into L's arms, hiding the wince of pain the twisting position caused him.

But L was quick to turn Light and carefully pull him closer to his chest, making sure he didn't hurt him or he didn't hurt himself. "Sumimase, Raito-kun. I didn't hurt you, did I?"

"No." The younger looking man slightly brushed honey tresses feathering against his eyes to the side before turning to look back at his panda-looking lover. "What was that about?"

"What was what about?"

The dumb routine.

Light, clearly not in the mood and just overly worried, acted it out to perfection that he wasn't really worried and he hadn't taken notice of the dumb tone his lover took which meant it was something he wanted to keep a secret.

Light hated it when he wasn't privy to anything and L knew it. L knew all his triggers, L knew all his vices, L knew what turned him on and what went on his mind. To what extent, it was sometimes questionable. Many times he stayed steps behind his brilliant plots, but sooner or later, L knew what he'd be facing or would deduce the outcome.

"What was your nightmare about?" He simply reiterated, feigning patience and interest.

"Nothing. Go back to sleep, Raito-kun. You need to rest." His fingers crept along Light's neck, gently brushing the back of his knuckles along his cheek in hopes of lulling his irritated lover back into slumber.

It either worked or Light was way too damn tired to really pay grace to L's antics tonight. His eyes were now shut, his posture graceful as ever and his profile underneath those messy honey tresses was glorious and radiant as always--looking so angelic and beautiful, it was almost painful to watch. Even in sleep, Kira could look so fucking perfect and flawless.

Damn him and his vain god complex. He knew he looked good--he knew he was irresistible, he knew how to structure the supple lines and curves of his muscles and bones... just like he knew how much dramatization he needed to make everything he did look believable.

And even admiring his lover in his sleep wouldn't tear him away from the nightmare he had lived moments ago.

Fucking. Hell. This was going to be one of the many sleepless nights, just like old times.

* * *

There was a deep abyss... an empty, endless pool of blackness.

Perpetual dark.

Falling...

Falling...

Everything felt like endless bliss, yet there was that slight twist of nerve. Was it really endless? Or was there something down there, just buried deep within an accessible amount of depth?

No matter. He was going to find out.

The wind bristled softly through the black tufts of hair... it felt so nice to be caressed in such a way lover's would. If he wasn't so socially inept, so secretive and stubborn with an endless lust for intelligence and wit comparison--as a man, pride and ego were always first, no matter who you were and how fucking sensitive you were--he'd probably experience a better relationship than the one going under everybody's noses during the Kira case.

Light didn't disappoint, however. Fucking self-proclaimed divinity he was, he had everything--was well-endowed, fucking great stamina, knew when and how to make enticing, delicious warm noises; where to release tantalizing breaths and how to look so fucking irresistible...

Still falling.

Falling... and falling and falling...

The fragment of space caved underneath him seemed too pitched for his taste, but everything seemed to fade away... the wrong way?

The wind suddenly swooped him down instead of caressing up. He was being tugged upwards, being rescued from falling into nothingness and being forgotten. The tug in his arm kept getting harder... harder...

L awoke again--when did he fall asleep?--to see the faint glint of steel silver decor embracing his wrist, puppeteering it in sharp little pulls.

Blinking away the drowsiness making his lids heavy, the raccoon detective turned over the pillow, propping himself up by his arms into a sitting position--or rather, crouching--to find Kira's perfect silhouette towering slightly over the bed with a linked handcuff, pulling playfully with sultry little smirk twitching his luscious lips.

"Join me for a shower?"

The action followed by the question seemed so cliche for a moment, like a perfect scene excerpted from a movie clip that L had to blink several of times before his eyes went a centimeter wider than usual.

"Oh, don't be shy now, L." There was a slight flirtatious inflection to the particular sentence accompanied by a strutting, seductive sashay over the edge of the bed and heading in the direction of the master bathroom just a door away from the walk-in closet.

And still the detective stayed there, gaping like an idiot--was he still dreaming?--letting his arm be tugged along like some dog, not bothering to respond or to move just yet.

"You missed it."

That made Light, in all his perfect curved glory, stop dead in his tracks, a pitch slight from dragging the detective along with a forceful tug. He slowly twisted his figure, purposely arching himself and bending in directions he knew his curves would jut and shape, having the tease motion down to perfection as if he had invented it. His slender fingers caressed along his arm, teasingly slow until reaching the silver link chain, wrapping an index with a seductive little twirl. His eyes were molten and almond-shaped to intensify the temptress effect he'd been going for--of course he wouldn't show the weakness he really had to be attached to L by the handcuff... he'd pass it off simply as usual playtime.

"Is it that obvious?" A light hummed chuckle escaped the sinful smugness adorning his features, slyly twirling the silver into his palm, giving light tugs, ordering L to follow.

If anyone were to walk in this particular scenario in play, the sight would be too comical to bear. There, in one side of the room almost at the door's oak was the perfect embodiment of a man, flawless and beautiful in the streak of light, the perfect picture of tempting sin.

On the other side, a deer caught in headlights; the panda looking older man with choppy black hair feathering in different angles over his features, eyes wide and gaping, gawking and idiotic as if this were the last thing he'd expect, as if he were highly inexperienced and was seeing something obscene he fantasized about on certain occasions in his life.

Receiving yet no response from the drooling L, Light continued in his catwalk in the bathroom's direction, flaunting every piece and contour of immaculate he had as asset to the watching eye. Little did he know that the detective had almost flown the steps it took to catch up to him and closed the door behind them.


* * *



It would probably have been less awkward to be in the same car as the butler if he hadn't walked in exactly at the worst moment to change the towels and do a quick dust about in L and Light's room exactly as they were having their share of morning sex in the shower.

It also would probably have been less awkward if Light hadn't been such a tease about his prim performance that had driven L to the point of shouting his orgasm as if it was only the two of them in the existence of then and there.

"Are you alright, Raito-kun?"

Here we go again, the dumb routine.

Light was on the other side of tinted, slick black car driving them to the airport, elbow perched on the window and fingers pinching his forehead. If it wasn't for the butler already knowing their little romps and heated encounters in every corner of the house they could manage to prop themselves unto and taint, Light wouldn't have kept the ten shades of color that pooled around embarrassing places all for the sake of an immaculate facade.

"Raito?" L was also being a persistent git.

"I'm fine, Ryuzaki." Light said curtly, quick to dismiss any attempt erasing awkwardness with a flutter of his wrist in the detective's crouching direction.


"Are you sure? Is Raito mad that he didn't get any cake even though he made it?" A thumb routinely perched over his lower lip, gazing with owlish curiosity in his lover's direction.

Oh bastard. He stymied that one on purpose. If not dispel the awkwardness just expend it right then and there in the open.

Not that Light cared much about being seen in public with such a dull, ghastly figure as L's mongoloid overall appearance, but being the pretentious Mr. Flawless he was, it didn't mean he had to voice to all the winds what he did in bed with his partner. Although, he'd pride himself in detailing all those moments he had a melted L so vulnerable and submitted in his bed and many other places within a heartbeat...

"I'm pretty sure you enjoyed it more than I did..." Cue in Mr. Smile of the Year. Light also had his own comebacks up his sleeve. The only reason he had made the cake was because L, on most occasions, preferred Light's baking and cooking mastered skills. He knew exactly what to drizzle, what flavours would meld together to create an ultimate orgasm for acquired sugar pallets such as L's.

Touche. There was no other possible comeback for that unless it was going to get graphic and the moment definitely didn't need that.

Turning his attention outside the window, L wondered for how long would it be this tranquil again back in his manor in England before another accident like that happened.

He also wondered how long would it take for the evidence to pile up and all point out at the one thing that wouldn't correlate with the situation. The one thing that appeared so hauntingly in his dreams, so nightmarish and frightening... A wraith couldn't make these things happen, touch them and set them so perfectly so they fell piece by piece pointing to something long since forgotten and dead.

No.

Absolutely not.

He refused to believe that anyone could survive the wrath of a Death Note when written by a human--unless misspelled--and Light wasn't the type to misspell names or to forget faces. Photographic memories didn't work like that and brilliant, top notch college student with excellency since he could remember didn't just forget.

It was all just a horrible coincidence of life... that's all...

* * *




"So help me God, Mello, if you don't stop being such a fucking girl in 3 seconds, I'm going to knock down the door and kick your butt until my foot is sore..." the redhead pounded the side of his fist into the bathroom, his knees tight together, his body molding against the planes of the fine oak door, groaning and cursing a slew of profanities unknown to men. He had been waiting for Mello to finish freshening up, but he seemed to be stalling his time in the bathroom on purpose just to piss off Matt.

"MIHAEL!!" Pound pound pound pound!

The door opened to reveal the blond favoring the usual leather fabric of tight, low riding pants but fashioning a long-sleeved thin cotton black shirt with only the red beaded rosary adorning the attire.

"Hale-fucking-lujah. Are you done, Miss Universe? Or do you need more time to stare yourself in the mirror so it can tell you if you're the fairest of them all??"

Mello snickered, obviously pleased with his revenge for Matt's earlier teasing statements. "No, no, you can go in now."

"Fucking finally!" Matt rushed into the bathroom without another minute of hesitation, slamming the door behind him. He had been holding it in for far too long.

"You did remember that L is coming home today, right?"

"Is that why you took a billion years to finish?! Didn't you see him enough in your childhood? He knows how ugly you really do look, yanno, underneath all the disguising effects of clothing and miracles of make up." Was the sarcastic response from the other side of the door.

"Just answer the question..."

"Yeah, Mell. How can I ever forget that last message he left us of bringing a special guest along with him?"

Mello stopped flickering stray strands back neatly in their correspondent straight golden pile to spare a glance in the bathroom door's direction. He'd been wondering about that little line the detective had tagged along as well. Who was that special guest? His gears were burning to know. "I hope he doesn't bring that big-headed twit Near..." he mumbled out of spite.

Of course, Mello and Matt both had no clue whatsoever that Kira was alive thanks to the person they were supposed to succeed.

Oh, what joy would it be when they found out who really was that was coming over to pay a perpetual visit in their presence.

"Please tell me your brain has been wracking around sleepless trying to come up with a potential face for this special guest?" Mello pinched the bridge of his nose--he couldn't give up on the subject. Curiosity killed the cat.

The redhead peeped through the bathroom door now, a scowl knitting between his eyebrows. "Let's not even crack our skulls trying to figure out who it is and let's just go have some breakfast like normal people. I am starving..." he drooped halfway through the door and quickly walked over to the bedroom door to make his exit in hopes to be on time for the breakfast banquet they probably would have in store for the both of them.

"AH!" The blond lover was quick to playfully swat the other behind, starting their usual playful teasing left behind in the years at Wammy's.

"Oh hell no you didn't!" And with that, Matt's tall frame chased after his blond lover's clad leather figure breezing out the door toward the dining hall.

Finally reaching the dining hall, Matt was having his plan of attack mapped out in his head until something sturdy and fleshy stopped him abruptly in his tracks, his arms flailing in his unbalanced trajectory, grasping black leather fabric recognizable only as Mello's before horribly staggering forward along with the obstruction. Both flailed now in their gravitational pull, but the blond's strength was enough to pull up and keep them both from face planting.

Of all the times to stop dead somewhere, Mello had to choose the kitchen hall. Why had he chosen the kitchen anyway? No. Why had he chosen to stop at all?!

"Glad to know at least someone is having fun."

That voice didn't belong to Mello...

Then who...

Matt finally composed himself from the horrible warped spins his vision had resorted to in the spurt of his unpredictable collision to focus on something slim, crouched, terribly pale and raccoon features with wild tufts of hair brushing out in a signature style...

L.

L had arrived without any other announcement, without an epic entry, without some cliche harmonious chorus announcing his highness' presence in the manor. HIS manor.

"Good morning to the both of you as well."

of course L sensed he was being watch. His super spidey-detective otherworldly sense tingling even when it looked like he wasn't even paying the slightest of attention.


* * *



After a few minutes of catching up, saying their hello's and... well... doing the usual when they were together, L decided to step up and finally announce the mystery guest.

This was Roger's turn to cue in the phone call.

"This is L."

"L, I have sent all the information you need to know about the fire ignition that happened in your manor. Your butler is going to pass it on to you as we speak. It was from all the recovered inventory of your library column and the books missing--which were the ones with ignition point."

L's expression grew even more bored if it was possible.

"Arigato." And with that, he snapped the phone closed and stuffed it in his pocket, turning promptly to face the butler of the house carrying a silver tray with the printed information Roger had promised on the phone.

The detective grabbed the stack of papers--normally, oddly--and turned back around to face two of his successors having confused expressions shadowing their features. Neither of them had been told any other details of the fire caused the other night of their first stay at the detective's mansion.

L examined the stack carefully, scrolling with intent curiosity through the names of the books that met an unfortunate, fiery death.

"A new case so quickly?" Matt was quick to inquire before Mello could, knowing the ice had to be broken sometime... and because curiosity got the best of him most of the time.

"No." The obsidian eyes flickered upward from their position in the hunch stance of his, gazing with lack of emotion at the 3rd heir in line for his throne and averted to Mello in an equal stare. "It's the name of the books that got burned in your incident, Mello."

Mello wasn't answering. Instead, a bit shocked, he waited for the detective to list them out loud, expecting L to magically understand with silence that that course of action was the one he was willing to happen.

Again, the redhead came in to save the day with his curiosity.

"Well... anything interesting about them? Any in particular with some odd message?"

There went L's signature emotion in the endless abysmal eyes. He was in critical thinking mode, the gears turning in his head, analyzing at a million miles per second every fragment and meaning underneath the list of the books with points of ignition.

"The Edge of the World, Othello, The Da Vinci Code, The Catcher in the Rye, Black Hearts in Battersea, A clockwork Orange, 1984, Paradise Lost, Yaxley's Cat, Beyond the Deepwoods and there were two books that were covered in cardboard and had a metal cut-out of the letters K and U in the middle." His eyes again averted to study the reactions of his successors.

Matt and Mello's head both floundered around the meaning around the slew of books with ignition points. What both had gathered was that it was 13 who met their unfortunate death and everyone mentally agreed that the number 13 was a little disturbing in this case for some odd reason.

Other than that, there was nothing completely blunt about the books at all...

This time, it was Mello who decided to voice his thought before smoke began to swirl out of his ears from his brain frying.

"Who's the guest you brought that you talked about when you told us you were going to move back in to the manor?"

Matt's shoulders visibly relaxed letting out a gust of breath he didn't know he had been holding all this time. His brain didn't want to do any thinking--it was way too damn early in the morning to play these puzzle mind games from a simple incident. The books were probably flammable anyway since L didn't buy anything that wasn't expensive, so they were probably drenched in whatever weird chemicals they slicked on the pages to preserve them as long as possible and they met an unknown contact of ignition in the air--simple scientific explanation.

"I almost forgot..."

No he didn't. L's dumb routine sometimes just didn't suite him... especially when they had spent this time wracking their brains over the matter.

"Our special guest is from the Kira Case."

Their childish curiosity and excitement visibly spiked down a notch; their expectant smiles slightly fading at the corners into thin lines. Mello's eyes narrowed down with suspicion as Matt's eyebrows furrowed with question.

Who the fuck was it already?!

"It's Light Yagami." L waited.

"WHAT?!" Both had nearly shouted in unison. Mello's anger rolled off in heated vibes off of his body, his fingers curled immediately to their palm in a secure and balled fist. Matt's jaw, however, was an unsightly gape at the moment. His eyes were wide with surprise but immediately filled with visible hatred along with his eyebrows downing with the motion. Fucking. Kira. That pretentious bastard that had a whole army of worshipers killing off anyone who wanted to destroy him.

Oh was this an opportunity to finally show that good-for-nothing delusional murderer a taste of his own medicine by the wrath of his own hands...

"L..." Mello started, but the detective immediately ignored him, interjecting with his own curtly sentence.

"You will both behave and act professionally around Kira. He will not be allowed in your way and neither will you be allowed in his and everyone will be in peace. That's pretty much final." With that the detective paid his attention back to the papers as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened at all. "Now, what do you guys think about this list of books that had ignition points?"

The blond SHOULD have foreseen that outcome, but his jaw was already joining Matt's on the unsightly gaping scale. He should have expected L to so nonchalantly end a subject off with no voice in the matter and start a new one as if everything was perfectly fine and beautiful.

"It's an anagram."

That voice didn't belong to anyone in the manor... not anyone besides L recognized, anyway.

The stoic detective turned his attention quietly over to the now visible Light, beautiful and golden under the light's contrast with the same high and mighty air of superiority and divinity that he always exerted along with the screaming sexuality he naturally dripped with every feline movement of his body. "I'm not dislexic, but if I recall correctly, L, in my years way back of experimentation with the Death Note, I had prisoner's write letters to you that seemed insignificant at the time, but if you read it a certain way, it spelled a whole new different message than the one so plain and clear on the paper. So, take away every first letter of the titles of the books since it's clear from the two books with missing identity that that's what it is aiming for and scramble them together."

L, still owlishly gazing in Kira's direction, turned to the paper with the listing of books at hand and mentally did the math--Kira was right.

"Beyond Backup."

Everyone's eyes immediately snapped up to drink Light's approaching figure.

"Or... you... pack bendy... B? No, no. You bend... back... but that would leave the P out of the sentence."

Even though there were probably a million combinations to relate those letters to, Light mentioning those first words "Beyond Backup" were way too coincidental with L's dreams and thoughts and Mello's earlier paranoia.

It was disturbing that yet again something this obvious would show up just like that.

"You guys have read the newspaper, correct?"

Matt, still without a recovered jaw, gaped even more idiotically in Kira's direction. Kira. Right there. In the flesh.

KIRA.

FREAKING KIRA. ALIVE. NOT DEAD like it had been rumoured.

Mello's anger wavelets were even perceived by the approaching Light with his smug sense of self-satisfaction and know-it-all attitude.

"Sometimes it feels like the world around me lives under a rock..." he commented offhandedly, narrowing his brilliant sepia gaze in his lover's direction--matter that later the Wammy boys would be exploding about as well.

"There was an article in the newspaper titled 'Beyond Backup' about a nearby experimental science lab here in England who's investigation had gone wrong and since the backup didn't show up on time to the rescue, the lab burned down. It was in one of the local newspaper I picked up on one of our stops in a gas station." He quickly elaborated as if it was a common matter easily dismissed.

Wait... a fire explosion in an experimental lab.

The article's name "Beyond Backup."

The book's names matching an anagram that would spell "Beyond Backup."

"We're going to survey the place. All of us." L suddenly broke in.




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Hey guys! :D Thanks for your wonderful little reviews LOL. Even if a few, they were highly appreciated. ^^ I'm sort of new in this style of writing (mapping it out in chapters with a whole epic plot and all. I'm used to writing shorter stores or role playing) so I hope you guys that haven't reviewed have enjoyed reading the story thus far as well :)

I also apologize for the HUGE delay in chapter 2. I was catching up with life's roller coaster loops and am learning how to drive as well so that consumed a lot of my attention, but I stayed up today with the goal of having it posted up here on AFF.

So enjoy the obviousness of it XD and leave more reviews. They secretly feed my muse. ^^

Also, in response to the reviewers: ChaoticAscencion - I thought the alphabetic number for L was 12?

SchuldigLiebe - me too :) which is why I decided to write this story... and because I love B. <3 Haha.
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