Redeemer

It took a few moments, sure enough, and a whole lot more will power than he would ever admit to, but it had worked. Wiping the not-so-favorable mental images from his mind - at least for the time being - Mello exhaled and sat back, sinking further into the all too comfortable cushions. Leather creaked softly as he went the extra step as to cross one leg loosely over his knee. Chewing idly on the inside of his lip, he took it upon himself to be the civil party regardless of whether or not he would much rather personally wipe that grin off Light's face. "With all due respect, fuckface," he began coolly, casually holding the teacup in one hand as if they were all but friends chatting over tea. "I'll cut you a deal." He allowed the words to hang tensely in the air. "Wipe that smug grin off your face and silence your snide remarks and perhaps I'll consider doing the same. Because while I apparently have the miraculous ability to reveal your true colors, you bastard, something tells me you enjoy taking jabs of your own. So, what is it you're hoping to accomplish here? Because as it stands, I'm on this side of the room and making a hell of a fucking effort not to deck that smile, but you're not making my job any easier."

Light raised his eyebrows with mock surprise, but Mello’s confession only seemed to make him smile more. He shrugged as though it didn’t matter and sipped his tea. “I don’t know what you’re so upset about,” he purred, that haughty tone laced with the worst kind of arrogance. “You’re a big boy, you know about these kinds of things—you and Matt are most certainly fucking, and if you’re not now, you will be.” He said it so simply, that there was a definite pause before it even registered in Matt’s face, and this time, he did spit out his tea, in L’s cake. L hadn’t reacted to Kira’s remark, but his head dropped to look at the cake, and if it wasn’t for the childlike pout that twisted his expression, it would have almost been funny. What was not so funny, was the way Light didn’t miss a beat, and calmly (as though he hadn’t just spewed one of the more insulting things that day) cut L another piece of cake, put it on his unused plate, and swapped the ruined piece for the new one—all while Mello was gaping at him.

Obviously that part about the deal just hadn’t registered in the slightest—he was too absorbed in lashing out at Mello the way he probably couldn’t at L…at least L wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of upsetting him so easily. Mello didn’t want to think he was an easy target, after all, Light got his feathers ruffled just as quickly, but considering L didn’t seem to have any intention of putting a stop to things, Mello got the sense this was like recess time for Kira, and he was actually being permitted to act like a pompous bastard—Goddamnit, schoolyard bully was Mello’s gig—if anything, Metro-boy should have been the one getting pummeled and shoved into lockers and shit…only Light probably never had that problem. Bullies picked on weaklings, Light’s iron-clad superiority probably kept that kind of thing in check… pity. So much might have been different if everyone in his life hadn’t assured him that he was perfect. And it dawned on Mello that his brain had just almost successfully tried to redirect his course away from the matter at hand… what the fuck had he just said to him?!?!

Oh that’s right. It was back to spewing insults. So much for civility. Goddamned son of a bitch never gave it a rest, did he? Regardless of whether he was right or not – which he was, bastard! – it didn’t change a thing. And for once, he managed the composure Matt did not. He’d had practice, after all. Easily ruffled, easy to explode the situation out of proportion but also quick to regain his sense of testy calm that did nothing to ease the situation. Were it not for L’s presence, he would not have bothered to sit so passively in his seat, tapping a free hand on the heel of his boot and counting silently to ten several times over. Who’d ever thought the theory actually worked.

“Relentless,” he murmured around the rim of his cup, eyes narrowing on his opponent – for he still was to this day, if not more so now – through a veil of blonde strands. “Again I ask, what are you trying to accomplish here?”

It wasn’t exactly easy to detect the sliver of disappointment in Kira’s face, that his crude remark had not incited the raging version of Mello he was seeking—and it did seem that perhaps his purpose beyond simple vicious entertainment, was to make a fool of L’s heirs in front of L himself. Picking at his cake as he was, L was of course paying attention to every tick and nuance and strained breathing pattern in the people around him—he probably had the best perspective—but that was why he was L. Light on the other hand, played innocent—it was a routine that wore out its welcome a long long time ago. “I already said I was merely making an observation, since you seem so bothered.” For a moment, everyone thought he would leave it there, dangling on the echo of the world’s most haughty tone—but his face darkened, and his voice lowered, back to its natural level. “Or perhaps I’m still a bit bitter about what happened between us,” he said. And yes, Mello realized where this was going—Matt however, was about to find out… “Being tortured by the SPK was one thing, you however—well let’s just say your method of interrogation left a far more bitter taste in my mouth.”

Of course he had to bring that up. Not only did he bring it up, he did so at the worst time and place imaginable. But it seemed as if Mello had been expecting it, after all he'd gotten away with it long enough and while L knew - or at least had a damn good impression of what had taken place that evening - it wasn't a topic that was discussed. It had happened and was not talked about again. So typical of Kira to bring it up now, clearly seeking another outburst, goading Mello to the point that he would shout out the wrong thing yet again and make a fool out of himself. It wasn't an unfamiliar game by any means, but it was not any more pleasant regardless.

Mello, however, did not skip a beat despite the narrowing gaze and slight furrowing of brows. He leaned forward to set the cup down on the table, making each action deliberate. "Maybe it should've been lead left in your mouth instead," he returned testily, watching him intently. Even if that was what he had wanted to do, it would have gone against orders and they both knew it, knew it now, because at the time Light had been completely and utterly convinced that one of those bullets had his name on it; but his life had been spared.

Pity, that.

L got what he wanted. That was always the case. It had been then and it was now. Regardless of whose roof Mello now sat under, however, both of his guns were neatly pressed to the small of his back. He wore them with ease, as if they were just another piece of adorning jewelry. One would never know they were even there if it weren't for the brief glimpses of stark white and gold beneath all the black clothing. It was a comfort thing. But also a torture, since there was little chance he could use them now when he most wished it. It was no secret Light feared death and as L had proved on several occasions—hell, as Matsuda had proved on one occasion—Light didn’t take very well to having a gun waved in his face. Most effective. What Mello wouldn't give for that particular little thrill.

Light’s gaze turned golden at Mello’s retort about the lead, because as Mello suspected, he was not currently fearing for his life, so he could brush it off. Bastard. He was still jabbing and poking and goading for the reaction however, and Mello’s guns were itching there against his back, but he stayed cool, he and Kira trading hard gazes from across the table—pretty locked in what felt like a private argument, before that little illusion was shattered.

Matt was gaping. “What?!” And as if he figured no one had actually heard him, he turned to Mello and said more forcefully: “Mello, what?!?”

Light of course went to open his foul little mouth to clarify, but L at last interrupted the devil’s cunning quips. “That’s enough, Kira-kun,” he said rather forcefully. L sounding forceful was another thing out of the ordinary, but it was pretty certain Light was familiar with the tone. What actually did snap his pretty jaw shut immediately, was the name L had used. Not Raito-kun, not Yagami-kun, but Kira-kun. That in and of itself seemed to contain a wealth of meaning and hardcore implications Mello might have sold his soul to know about. It definitely pushed a wave of anxiety through Light’s amber eyes, and he miraculously…shut up.

L raised his gaze to Matt, who was visibly fuming and tried to assuage the situation. “Matt, calm down please …”

Fuck, Mello grit inwardly at the first sound of Matt's outburst. That was a situation that he had neglected only to have it come back and bite him in the ass. It was only when L put a somewhat strained stop to the argument that he dared flash the redhead a look. The slight frown upon his lips and guarded expression would be enough to explain what could not be explained just then. Later, Mello’s eyes told him, urging him to let it go for now, regardless of whatever dispute would come up later. Oh, and it would happen. He knew it now just by looking at him. Those blue eyes were drawn, the contained outrage and disbelief was etched upon his features. Mello had a feeling that it wouldn't be only Light who'd finish the day with a bruise or two. Goddamnit.

If Light had wanted a confirmation of his earlier words, he had it, that much was clear. Fucker.

But despite the aggravated issues that now hung over his head, Mello had not missed L's words all together, nor the very blatant name that had put an end to the discussion. But just what the hell did it even mean? Clearly it was not something L used often, the look in Light's eyes told him that much, but what had been the point? It made little sense to him.

"This is pointless-" he grit out, pushing himself up, crossing toward the nearest windows. Hands fell on either side of the wooden sills, grasping tightly onto the lacquered wooden surface. Tight enough his knuckles went white under the pressure. It at least appeared to relieve some of the tension he'd been holding. Teeth grit, he stared intently past the tall panes across the landscape that stretched out before him. What had been the point in coming here again? He had to remind himself of the earlier conversation because he truthfully did not remember any more. Check up on L. Sure, that was it. Confirm that Kira was in some way incarcerated - yea, that'd been confirmed too but not to his liking. In fact, the bastard was in higher spirits than he'd anticipated.

Again he'd let him win. Fuck. "Fuck-" he'd repeated under his breath.

“Mello,” and L was unfolding himself from the chair in the reflection of the window. He’d at last decided to take some initiative over the situation, which either meant he’d gotten what he wanted out of it, or he was indeed capable of human sympathy. It wasn’t fair to blame him really, Kira was the fucker here, but Mello couldn’t help the betrayal that taunted his edges. He watched L shuffle over to him, and surprisingly, like a good little dog, Kira stayed where he was as he was told; he and Matt still at the table, but not communicating, probably not looking each other in the eyes either.

“My apologies,” L stated flatly. “But this was necessary for several reasons, and I would not have subjected you to him, had I not felt you would be able to handle it.”

"Yes, I know about the endless experiments," Mello returned briefly, glimpsing over his shoulder at his elder. "It isn't him I find difficult to handle, L, but the tight leash you keep me on while you throw me headlong into the situation." There was no use denying it. As far as anyone was concerned, Mello was on a leash just as much as Kira. If not a bit more. Granted he was likely the one to do something a bit more outwardly foolish in the long run, but perhaps that too was part of L's plan. A practice run of sorts. After all they were expected to work together from now on. A phenomena whose inner workings he had yet to comprehend.

L’s stare on his back was a tangible weight, that blank, wide look, the thumb pressed between thoughtful teeth. “I’m sure it hasn’t escaped your attention that Kira and I have already come to blows…violence is not the way to deal with him… he fears pain, but he’s able to handle it, and right now, pain is his surest strategy for attention and sympathy.

Mello could not sustain a frown. "Maybe so, but the only attention and sympathy he would gain, would be your own..." he pointed out quietly and with a hint of care. It wasn't his goal to injure or insult. Not this time.

L didn't deny it, because there wasn't any reason to. "True, but he lost that recently...he lost alot of things recently...and this is why this experiment was necessary..."

Fair enough he supposed, accepting it even though he did not particularly enjoy the circumstances into which he was subjected to. "Understood." His gaze shifted back toward the windows, narrowing ever slightly in thought. For the moment... subdued.

L cocked his head a bit, reminiscent of a dog trying to understand. "You never question me..." It was an observation bordering on wonder.

The observation took him by surprise and Mello blinked, sparing him a glimpse. "It may not look it but even I know when to ask the right questions. Would you answer me truthfully were I to question you on this matter?"

L didn't bat an eye. "Yes."

Again the response earned him a blink. Puzzled if not once again surprised. And here he thought he'd had at least this much figured out. "You never used to," he justified his confusion. "I may not understand your motives, I may not even agree with half of them but I trust you all the same." He'd turned his gaze away again as if looking in those all too wide scrutinizing eyes was only making him nervous.

L looked at him plainly and turned his gaze over to look at Kira who was sitting there watching closely, but out of hearing range. Ah the advantages of a luxury suite. Mello followed L's gaze, he and Kira meeting eyes, scrutinizing, but still Kira made no move to interrupt. "That over there—” L began. “That's not Kira. Not anymore. All you see before you is Light Yagami. He gave up his memories, and officially his notebook several days ago."

His gaze traveled from L to Light and back; brow lifting in question. "Forgive me for saying so, but I call bullshit."

L's face betrayed nothing. "I’ll tell you a story,” he said rather cryptically. "The day he was gunned down at the Yellobox, his own shinigami was prepared to end it for him. The kanji was half scrawled across the page.”

Mello’s expression went owlish.

“Ryuk did not kill him, because he thought there would be more entertainment to come,” L went on. “He saw that I was alive, he saw that I was willing to save Light’s life, and he figured it would be business as usual. However, as Light spent those first several months in the hospital, only then to be moved here—luxury yes, but incarceration all the same, the death god had second thoughts. He came to us several nights ago and presented Light with a rather heinous decision—for him at least. Give up Kira—give up the ownership of the notebook that still tethered them together even though it is out of his physical possession—or Ryuk was going to take his life. Then and there, either way, the shinigami wanted out.”

"So he gave it up?” Mello said skeptically. “That means nothing when he's pulled the same stunt before. How can you be sure it was for real? He doesn't appear any less aware of what he's done as far as I can tell."

“No, he doesn’t,” L said. “in fact, he makes no secret that he has his memories despite the fact. But that’s not the problem,” L said. And that really wasn’t a good thing. “Ryuk changed his mind because Light, stubborn as he is, could not conceive of life without Kira. He tried to convince his pet that there was still more he could do, but the death god did not buy it—and had truly come to collect. For the second time in my presence, he had pen to paper with Light’s name at the tip of the ink…”

Mello blinked before it dawned on him, and he turned to his mentor, face falling. “What did you do?” He said. Because that’s where L was going wasn’t it? He’d intervened. Again, he’d intervened on Kira’s behalf. Goddamnit, the fucker didn’t deserve it, and yet L had…

“L,” Mello said more sternly, “What did you do for him?”

L shrugged one bare foot up against the opposite leg. "I made a deal with it,” he confessed.

Oh fuck. Fuckfuckfuck. The rather horrified look on Mello’s face was prompt enough to continue.

“It wants to play a new game,” L said. “We agreed.”

“In exchange for that bastard’s life?!” Mello fumed. “What was the deal?”

L turned to the window, his gaze steady and maybe ever slightly grim. “Ryuk has created a new Kira. Somewhere out there, he’s given a Death Note to someone else. I know you've seen the headlines lately...the simultaneous mass-murder of inmates—entire prisons worth of criminals dropping dead all at one precise, conjunctive moment."

"I've seen the headlines, but I find them difficult to believe," Mello grit. There were just too many logistical factors to account for before such a feat could even be conceivably possible. "There's a very limited number of people who would have that kind of access to information that would enable such a slaughter."

L nodded, "I agree. The fact of the matter is that there is a new Kira, and that he, she—or they are very powerful. They have connections, they can orchestrate a plot like this, and this is why Ryuk chose them. He’s pitting an old game against a new one. It falls to Light and I—together—to find this new Kira, or Kiras, and defeat them. We have only a year to do it. If we win, Light keeps his life—what’s left of it.”

“And if you lose?” Mello risked.

“We both die,” L replied, without the proper gravity that statement truly deserved. “The shinigami gets both of our life spans.”

Mello could have mustered the sort of response anyone would expect of him at that moment, only he was too busy counting to ten—rapidly, and in gross succession. What the fuck, L, what the fuck.

L on the other hand, had obviously already moved beyond the deal itself to begin working on the case at hand. After all, there was no use crying over spilt milk—was that it? Goddamnit. "There were ciphers discovered in several of the aforementioned prison cells,” he said. “Ciphers which concluded a stern faith that both L and Kira, despite an absence from the public eye, are very much alive. The public doesn't know I was ever dead,” the detective muttered flatly. “There is always an L. When I died, Light became L, and no one but the task force and the SPK knew the truth. When Light died, Near was L, now the title is mine again as we agreed upon...hence, there is always an L regardless of the person behind it. Those who believe Kira is dead or caught, have attributed it to L. This 5th Kira has as well, has demanded through these ciphers that Kira be released back into the hands of his followers...this leads me to a veritable conclusion that it is a ‘they’ at work and not a sole individual. Ryuk’s idea of a twist. What concerns me is not that they think L is alive...but that they think Kira is alive....Of course, Ryuk’s other twist is that Light is to perform on this case, without the use of his notebook or memories—so not only has Light been thrust into this deal with me, he’s been robbed of his powers and his memories…or so it initially seemed.”

“Again I call bullshit,” Mello repeated. There was no way Light—that Light—was ignorant of the fact that he was Kira and of all he had done to remain Kira.

L, however was still rattling off the facts as they stood. It was obvious he didn’t buy it either, but that was the conclusion and it seemed it was the particulars that mattered. “Considering it's taken six years for me to catch Kira-Proper,” the detective mused, “One year is not nearly enough time, and this is why I must first prove that Light is still Kira. He told me before Ryuk made him give up the notebook, that he was the key to this new case—I did not want ‘Kira’ involved for obvious reasons, but with the timeframe, it pains me to say, we need Kira's expertise."

Of course, Mello berated him with just a faintly audible 'tch'. It was too easy to negate such intricate details when one knew all the inner workings of what was truly going on behind the scenes. Such titles were dismissed as far as anyone else was concerned. Light had always been Kira. The thought caused Mello to bite his chocolate harder than necessary, flinching as teeth grit together without warning.

"It's not my intention to award compliment where none belongs, but I very much doubt anyone else could manage to evade capture for as long as he did. The guy's a bloody selfish, manipulative asshole but a genius nevertheless who kept his ass out of the fire for longer than anyone thought possible. I'd like to think this new imbecile is not nearly as calculating."

"So would I," L muttered. "But it’s not safe to assume anything at this point, especially not when I already am 25% certain we’re dealing with a group and not one individual. Please understand, Mello, despite what you may think, I have no illusions about Light's capabilities. He has tricked shinigami in the past, and the shinigami we made the deal with, is his own. I am more than aware he could have orchestrated this from the beginning...but something tells me, he didn't. Instead he found a work around...and I need to know what. That is partially why you're here—the other part is that we need help on this case."

This time Mello’s pause was less pronounced. "What is it you want me to do?" he asked with the same objectiveness he'd showed toward L in the past. Chaos had burst, shit exploded, people died, feelings were wrenched but little had truly changed.

L's pause was long however, a lot longer than it should have been. "You understand, Mello," he said tentatively, "That I severely disapprove of what happened during the Interrogation... But, I also know in order for me to uncover just how and where he is presumably concealing a piece of the Death Note in order to retain his memories... all holds cannot be barred..."

Mello made no attempts to excuse himself or forge up explanations. Merely stated the facts. "Shit got out of hand," he said, half interrupting L's short speech. It didn't get any simpler than that. Clearly he hadn't gone in there with such plans in mind. "Speak clearly, what would you have me do?"

The night was full of surprises it seemed as L stood there for a long moment... "I haven't decided," he confessed.

"...you haven't decided," Mello repeated blankly as if L had just told him that all along he'd been wrong and the sky was truly not blue. It was just unimaginable.

L stood still, staring pensively at the hazy reflection of Light in the glass. "No, I haven't. Prior to the deal, Light had pushed me to the breaking point and I had him confined in solitary with the intention of leaving him there. It was there that Ryuk appeared to take his life. Light has already decided that if I can prove he is still Kira—despite the deal and his handing over of the notebook which he somehow managed to snipe a piece of to maintain his memories—that I will send him back to true incarceration. He won’t tell me where the piece is, but it must be on his person at all times. He is no longer a Death Note owner, so the moment he relinquishes his cut, he will forget who he is, and I will lose that valuable resource in Kira-Proper.”

So L was both suicidal and a survivalist at the same time. A paradox if ever there was one—and goddamn certifiable. In fact, Mello could probably put his money on the fact that L made the deal, in part because it was more interesting and more challenging to him than any other case on his plate. His life was at stake—truly and utterly, he had a deadline and everything, what more could a bored genius want than odds like that? And not only that, but he needed to solve the case with his worst enemy as his partner… the idealist could pretend L had stuck his neck out solely for the purpose of some blindsided misaligned love—but Mello knew the bastard better. L took up this gauntlet because it was the best gig in town—and because he was stupidly blindsided by the worst sort of quote/unquote ‘love’ imaginable.

“My theory, Mello,” L mumbled, “Is that Light did give up his memories...he did return to himself as he was before...I was there, I saw it in his face...and then I put pressure on him to understand the last 6 years when he no longer had any memory of his motives...he went from being Kira, to hating Kira and that just would not do for either of us. He must have taken the initiative to get his memories back...but how, I don't know..."

"Are you sure you didn’t give it to him?" Mello remarked somewhat snidely. All elementary conclusions pointed to that inevitable moment of lunacy: L giving Kira a part of the Death Note to jog his memory.

“Not in my best interest,” L said dourly and the next words probably needed to be said twice... "He knows my name, Mello."

Something akin to shock crossed Mello’s features, and the outburst he’d held onto only moments before, found its way out rather loudly. "What!" he gasped before containing it, "How?!"

Or maybe it was the next set of words that needed repeating... "I told him"

Silence stretched thin between them. "You've lost it," was the only thing Mello could come up with just then, because no explanation would suffice. “Did you think you needed another challenge, L?”

"Possibly."

"That's great," Mello murmured flatly as he crumbled empty foil into his palm. "'Fraid he's also got mine. I guess this way if either of us drops dead, we'll know why

There was a vague possibility that L looked disappointed with himself at that moment, it was the certain angle of his trademark slouch that seemed just a little more rundown than it was meant to. Or perhaps Mello was seeing what he wanted to see because somewhere deep down he was disappointed in L…was that possible? Or did L just not give him all the information needed to understand this situation entirely? God he hoped so. The detective was more brilliant than this—he had to be, otherwise what was the bloody point? Incarcerated or not—Kira had won.

“It seemed the proper thing to do at the time.” Oh L, you lying fuck. Another experiment? Why not just give the bastard a loaded gun and say ‘shoot?’

“Tell me it’s a show of trust and I’m going to vomit,” Mello muttered, snapping into his chocolate with unintentional volume, and L just needed to stop talking after that—at least to spare Mello’s brain from snapping like his candy. But L wasn’t finished…

“He’s holding more cards at this moment, than I ever intended especially after the warehouse. Like I said, I am certain he is in possession of some piece of the notebook—he got it shortly after we made the deal with the shinigami, and I don’t know how. But it returned Light to Kira, Kira who knows our faces and has our names, could end his captivity in a few short letters, hack the security and waltz out to continue his work and no one would be the wiser…perhaps at this moment, only Matt would stand in his way…however, he has not done this. He remains here, because he knows, just like I know, the only way to catch the new Kira is together…”

The words ‘L’ and ‘naïve’ didn’t usually belong in the same sentence, but Mello was tempted.

“He also knows about the failsafe… the Kill Switch I had implanted in him. It’s activated by a password code via my voice or remote by a key-in access code, and once activated sends a series of electrical impulses to his heart to induce cardiac arrest of the fatal variety. Essentially we hold each others lives in our hands.”

Kill Switch? Oh. Thank. God.

Okay, L hadn’t totally lost it…yet.

Not totally, but he was certainly headed that way, it would appear. Mello remained silent, refusing him an immediate answer and choosing to instead, chew thoughtfully upon his cocoa goodness. He had told L previously that despite all the madness, his trust remained intact, but what of this new development? He did not trust Kira - not in the slightest. Sure, for some God-sent reason he was still alive despite the unfortunate leak of his name, but that did little to heighten his trust in the man. Kill-switch or not. Although he had to hand it to L to at least, take that precaution. It made him feel just a little bit better about the entirety of the situation.

Truth be told, if anything, the prospect of seeking out and destroying an impostor was likely the only thing that kept his interest now. After all, there could be no other as far as his own twisted little Utopia was concerned. "I still don't completely understand you," he confessed quietly. "But as I said, I trust you." This said, he shifted his gaze back to the detective, noting the heavier darkness around his eyes, the pallid complexion. L looked as tired as he had ever seen him though perhaps he was seeing things. It wasn't a reassuring sight but legends aside, L was still only human. Maybe.

"Just tell me what your plan is. If we're working on a deadline here, then there's little time to waste. Matt and I still have to get set up here. We've just arrived from New York last night. I destroyed any links we could've left behind there, so everything will have to be replaced. I'll get us up and running within a day's time." His tone was all business, geared and determined as if nothing of previous arguments and unpleasantries had just taken place. Determination and a solid goal were wondrous things.

“Raito-kun has developed a theory that a cult or church devoted to Kira is involved,” L said. “He has a point about the amount of effort involved in the actual writing of the names—according to the notebook’s rules, there’s a 23 day limit…”

L had been slowly leading Mello back closer to the table, where Matt was trying to decide if he could sneak a smoke with Kira sitting right there, since obviously cigarette smoke irritated his highness. Matt definitely looked like he was in dire need, fidgeting with cake utensils, messing with his PSP—Mello glanced over and could have sworn he saw a look of curiosity cross Light’s face as he glimpsed whatever game it was Matt was playing…or maybe he wanted to know. Dumb thought—funny thought. Light acting his age…how the hell old was he again? 23? But they were all young by technical standards…which was bullshit because they all felt far older…though sometimes they acted far younger. Almost to confirm as much, Mello watched L chew on his thumb.

“Considering how many people were killed at once—” He was almost back to the table, which meant the private conversation was over without L having further elaborated how Mello was or wasn’t to discover the piece of Death Note Kira obviously had in his possession. Haven’t decided…. Light however was now privy to what was being said—and here was that initiation into the odd-ball working-together concept L had conceived…

“In order to kill all those people in one shot,” Light said smartly, “the names would have to be pre-composed as a draft, that way all the details could be straightened out ahead of time. However, even if one person sat down to transfer all those names over into the notebook, the simple passage of time would stagger the deaths anyway…the user has 40 seconds to write the cause of death, then 6 minutes and 40 seconds to specify the details of the death, including the time of death—add to that the fact that you have to picture the face of the person about to die while writing the name, basic math works out to the unavoidable fact that more than one person had to be writing on notebook pages at the same time. Much more than one person…and still the timeframe of actual deaths would be staggered…”

Kira. You brilliant, murdering bastard. Mello wanted to say it, but leave out the brilliant part….

“I’ve already requested the death reports from all the prisons we believe were hit. As to Raito-kun’s point,” L added. “The effort it must have taken to hit one prison this way is substantial—but to date, there were three prisons hit so far, the events in rather close proximity, a matter of days…”

“Why Raito-kun? Why not just call him Kira?” There was thump of silence after Matt grunted that statement—the look on Kira’s face was fairly priceless because he actually wasn’t expecting that. Matt was just not a threat to him, and every prior bend of his expression said so. Mello on the other hand recognized the tone for what it was…Matt was pissed…Matt was still pissed at him…it was enough to make Matt dis Kira to his face, without really noticing he was doing it… kinda funny actually.

Light wasn't the only one who was obviously taken back by the sudden outburst. Mello stared at his partner as if he had sprouted a second head. After all, Matt didn't give himself to such outbursts - that was Mello’s job. But he did recognize it for what it was, because he was all too often on the receiving end of that tone. Annoyance. Frustration. Downright anger. It was more than the fidgeting awkwardness he'd been experiencing ever since they'd made it through the door. Besides, he had a point. Why bother with niceties when Light was not even bothering to deny the fact of his past murderous nature?

Mello allowed a faint grin, hidden behind the edge of a brand new chocolate bar he produced from the inside of his jacket. Yet his moment of triumph was short lived as Matt turned his eyes on him. The look far from friendly - he hadn't forgotten the talk they were still to have later on that evening. A talk Mello greatly dreaded despite himself.
Right now it was easier to turn his attention to the matter at hand instead. Back to that determination, back to that drive that would keep him safe - irony that.

"Three..." he repeated, directing their attention back to the case even as Matt pushed himself off the couch for the first time since their arrival. "Which three have been hit?" Behind him he heard the click of a lighter and the tell-tale deep exhale followed by the initial cloud of smoke as he lit up. At least he'd been considerate enough to put some distance between himself and Light. Although Mello greatly doubted it was consideration itself, but a safety measure so that he wouldn't have to deck the fucker should he dare snatch the cancer stick from his mouth a second time. It was a dangerous thing that, denying Matt his daily intake of nicotine.

Light's catlike gaze followed Matt's movements, and it seemed his eyes lit up in a far different manner than Matt's cigarette. "Don't smoke that in here," he said, the Kira tone at full throttle.

Two sets of eyes turned to him. Mello lifted a brow but for once remained silent, chewing intently upon his chocolate as he watched what would likely become one of the most interesting displays that had happened that evening. Matt on the other hand, had rotated just enough to look at him, making it a point to take a slow, deep drag of his cigarette, letting it out slowly through gritted teeth. "I think I missed it when you said please." His own tone cool, detached. Challenging.

"I didn't." Light’s sly gaze narrowed, sizing Matt up truly for probably the first time ever, his voice lower, but level. Challenge accepted.

Another slow drag. Ashes were deposited casually into a glass that had yet to be cleaned up from a nearby table. It still contained remnants from its latest drink and thus sizzled faintly. "Didn't think so."

Light leaned back in his seat, casual, smug. "Oh good, they told me you were smart, I was beginning to wonder. Glad you could figure that out though. Now put it out."
.
"No," Matt said plainly. Mello didn't think he'd ever heard such conviction in a single word out of Matt.

Light's amusement spread like butter across that wicked little mouth of his. "No..." he purred, more out of observation than insult... "Didn't you realize that L's allergic? Or don't you know that much about your mentor?"

Matt actually lifted a brow, eyeing him with a hint of curiosity and outrage mixed in one. "Don't fuckin' bullshit me!" he snarled, actually taking an uncharacteristic step forward. Mello was there within seconds, a hand touching his chest as he came between them despite the fact that there was still plenty of room between the two.

Of course there was that sideways glance at L for some sort of confirmation as to whether Kira was full of absolute shit--which was most likely the case--but L just stood there and neither confirmed or denied anything. He wasn't taking sides, he was watching things unfold...Matt's reaction interested him, Mello could tell because of the slight angle that he was chewing his thumb at...but it seemed he was also curious as to what angle Kira was using--as had been his occupation for the past 6 years. Light raised an eyebrow, the devil playing devil's advocate. "Am I? Maybe. But what if I wasn't...best not to risk it. Put it out."

"I don't particularly remember your name on the roster of those I took any semblance of orders from," he returned coldly around the butt of his cigarette, which by this point, had burned more than halfway down to the filter. His defiance was calculated. "Therefore, do fuck off." He may not have stood in the spotlight as far as L's prodigies were concerned, but overlooked as he was, he was not far behind. After all, beneath all the chain-smoking, game playing, system hacking persona he was known for, was the intelligence that had awarded him his spot at Mello's side; one that had also kept them alive many a times. It was only when he had reached within millimeters of the filter that the cigarette was discarded within the same glass he'd been disposing ashes into.

Light watched him coolly--it was fairly evident he'd adopted a different method with Matt than the hot-headed-quick-to-blows stance he took with Mello. But he was looking down his nose at him nonetheless, soaking it all in. Yes, Kira certainly was soaking it all in, and letting the notion of it show brazenly in his superior expression. "Well then, aren't you brave and stupid at the same time. It's always so safe for you Alphabet Children to assume I'm lying. One day, it will probably catch you off guard to discover when I don't--but by then, maybe it will be too late."

He stretched, checked his watch—a rather long gaze as though to conjure that notion that at one time there had been a rather lethal piece of paper hidden in that time piece—oh and that was deliberate. "Nevertheless," he said, suddenly sounding very bored—an insult in and of itself-- "These rooms are mine, and the present company is boring me. I have real work to do, so children, take your games elsewhere." He still managed to maintain that poise he trumpeted around like some sort of royal inheritance, standing up slim and tall, and sliding a glance of thinly veiled menace over his shoulder, through the feathered length of his hair. But he didn't aim it at Matt or even Mello, but at L... and there was far too much weight in the air between him and the detective at that moment...

"You son o-" Matt begun, clearly fired up enough to keep going, but before the words could fully escape his lips, Mello tugged at his arm. "Don't bother," he told him quietly, casting Light a look - his features devoid of any tell-tale signs of emotion or whatever thought might have been going through his mind at the time. "Let's go so that his highness can have his suite back," he spat and tugged at him, succeeding in grasping his attention only after the second try. The redhead was still not entirely pleased with him, but listened surprisingly enough backing up and falling silent.

"We'll be up and running by this time tomorrow," Mello said, directing his gaze toward L who'd remained quiet through the entirety of the exchange. Perhaps it was better this way. It would be a constant struggle, this whole cooperation thing. It'd take some time getting used to.

"Good," L said, and he wasn't watching as Light moved nonchalantly down the hall back to the bedroom and essentially disappeared from sight—at last. The gravity of his bloody presence finally lifted to some degree—but he had left his stinger very prominently in the room. L seemed to absolutely not care...but that was the problem, he looked as though he was making a conscious effort to seem that way. Light was grating on him, his thumb was actually red from the chewing--which was new. "I need you up and operating. There is a small town in the Midwestern United States that has caught my attention due to a sect of Kira worshipers stirring up controversy. Raito-kun seems adamant the Bible-belters don't have the capability to pull off such a thing as playing Kira, but we're agreed it needs to be checked out regardless. Obviously neither he nor I are free to move about outside these walls, so I'm going to need you and Matt to begin surveillance as soon as you are ready. It is most likely that even if these westerners have some connection to the 5th Kira, they're not playing a very significant role. But I need it confirmed as soon as possible." He chewed on his reddened thumb, deep in thought. "Now if you excuse me, I have something I need to address. Thank you both again for the cake..."

Mello blinked at him. Goddamnit! This meant abandoning Japan once again and returning to the States. Of course this couldn't have been revealed before they had made the trek all the way out here. After all their things had been shipped over. He cursed inwardly but only nodded, accepting the charge. "I'll be in contact tomorrow once I make arrangements to get us back to the States. Forward me what information you have and we'll get out there as soon as possible." With this, he took his leave, pausing only at the doorway once Matt was through and already making his way down the hall. He sought his mentor's eyes briefly, a thoughtful frown upon his lips. "Good luck," he told him quietly. "We'll do what we can." The door was closed quietly on its lock before L had ever a chance to respond, following Matt as they led themselves out. The car keys were tossed his way without warning and the redhead simply seated himself in the passenger's seat without a word, slamming the door shut.

It was going to be a long day.