Another Note: Kira's Ghost

BY : Resting-Madness
Category: Death Note > General
Dragon prints: 792
Disclaimer: Disclaimers: I do not own any character, any plot overall that exists in the world of Death Note. That goes to the wonderful God who thought it up ad all the hard workers who brought it to life. I also make no profit.

A cool breeze nearly froze Kubo Nakashima's damp cheeks to black from frostbite. He wasn't lying in water, that would have been wonderful if he was just blacked out on the street in some random street puddle from a melted early frost simply because he had a bad trip. That would be too kind. As it would seem fate had other plans for him tonight. Dark. Cruel. Inescapable plans. He'd been crying. That's why his cheeks are wet and catching him a cold. Sometime earlier this evening a man approached him; tall, broad but somehow delicate, he was light on his feet for his size because when he gave chase he didn't hear him, save aside a couple things he'd tossed in the way being tossed aside.

It wasn't fair. It wasn't fair that the man knew he'd catch him in an instant but had the audacity to allow him to run, to call for help, yet he received none. Not one person stopped him and asked him how they could help. What was wrong with them? He knew, has heard the muttering on the streets. Kira has made people lazy. Kira knows. Kira will take care of it, why should they stick their necks out or lend an anonymous hand when they have a merciless god on their side? Fools! But, he is a teenager, and thanks to this idiotic group who call themselves 50, it's hard for adults to take anyone under 18 seriously. And if they don't take the young seriously, how will Kira know? He's a god who asks for help from man, he can only know so much that goes on. He was almost at the precinct when he was suddenly struck down from his right side, he'd actually seen the blunt object come into view before whammo! Lights out.

Kubo doesn't bother to struggle. He can already tell that he can't move by how incredibly bunched up his clothes are and how tight his chest feels, an unnatural tight pressure.

He was down on the floor, it was made of concrete which meant wherever he was it was near enough to humanity that if he screamed he might be heard. No good though, a sock or something fuzzy was stuffed into his mouth to silence him. When he spat it out, his captor said something with an odd accent before stuffing it back in. He doesn't recall much from then, he just opened his eyes and now feels the cold wind blowing against his wet face.

'Maybe if I keep my eyes closed he'll think I'm not awake.'

"Didn't anyone ever tell you that the more alert you are, the more your eyes scrunch up. Lids seem to get testy when forced closed without death- isn't that interesting?"

Nakashima opened his eyes, one at a time. He tried to keep a cool head, cooler than the cold wind is making his damp cheeks, but when looking out into what he presumed would be the inside of a building- a warehouse, most likely, he instead sees the night and the cityscape. His breathing is heavy, it could be the cold but he's sure it's from fear taking over him.

"Would you like to scream? Most people scream." Said his captor.

The boy just noticed his gag was gone. He should scream, now that he can. He doesn't. What would be the point? Right now, he's just like the stars. Up here, but no one can see him due to all the lights down below blinding his existence. Hn. One could even consider it 'Celebrity Syndrom' you're not there beyond those flashing lights of the cameras. There, but just nothing.

"It's beautiful, isn't it?"

"Are you gonna.." his words cut off by a sob he didn't even know he was going to make, it just shot out of him. He sniffed back his tears through his running nose and started from where he left off. "...Kill me."

His captor cocked his head in the strangest angle, it must have been comfortable because while his slid his gaze towards him he kept it crooked that way, and he replied softly. "Yes."

His breathing became heavier as fear skirted past the previous level and hit its runner's high. He's only fourteen; why is this happening to him? This is television stuff, this older people stuff. Older people stuff... A new terror rocked through him. "A..are you.. yo.."

"Out with it boy, speak the King's English!" Snapped his captor, giving him a brief shaking.

"Are you gonna rape me?"

The strange looking man grimaced. "Why? Do you want me to?" He reached for Kubo's foot removing a sneaker, tossing it up into the air catching it several times as he casually speaks. "Why is everyone always so ready to be raped? You may not know this, but I know why. Do you want to hear?"

The boy shook his head, his sweated down crew cut danced in the movement. It's not warm out, he's just that frightened that he's broken out into a cold sweat. It's liable to kill him from the chill before this chatty murderer does the deed.

"It's because you're so afraid of death that you think once I, or an actual rapist, is done with me I'll be let go." He dramatically shrugged out his hands. "Harm. But still alive." He grinned, ugly and small. "I'm not about that- I won't even kiss you." He laughed at the thought of ensnaring someone just to makeout with them. How ridiculous sexual predators are! "You're alive because I saved you- yaaay, rejoice." He threw his hands up; the feeble cheering got just as a feeble of a bodily celebration.

"Y.. you did?"

His captor nods.

"Thank you." He wondered what was over his head since the man keeps glancing up above him, not drastically, just high up enough that he knows he's looking over his head. He turned his head, completely expecting there to be someone there, but there is no one. "Ar..are you go.. gonna le.."

"Lead?"

"Le.."

"Leave?"

The boy was missing the humor, too afraid, still very much afraid of this situation. He's atop a skyscraper for Pete's sake! He can't be as nonchalant about it as the murderer or in his words "saviour", legs dangling freely over the side, rocking, too! Nakashima is and will remain nonplussed because of it. The teen fantasized about throwing his body at him and knocking the man off to his doom. He looked at the man long and hard... Could he?

B looked at the young teen. "It won't work." He said, knowing what he's thinking.

"What did you mean, when you said that you'd saved me?" His voice doesn't sound like his own, it's thick and stuffy with tears; he's never cried since his life hit double digits. So many firsts today. First he tried a new burger at McDonald's, he got his first invite to a cool party, which he's currently missing out on. And now he's first experiencing true terror. This isn't television, there's no off switch when things get too sketchy for someone watching solo.

"You were going to be killed tonight, by someone or something. But I intervened and saved you."

They then fell into a staring match; Nakashima lost easily having been blinking from the start from the cold wind burst. This man didn't flinch anything. He went statue as they made eye contact for a long stretch. It wasn't until his hand came up at his ear that the teen understood. "Thank you."

"You're welcome." Pointing, B says. "Your date has changed. Guess whatever or whom is over it. Thank you for participating."

"My date?" The teen watched his captor dig into his pocket to remove a needle.

"You're scared, I can tell. But, I'm going to need you to calm down." He nods to the boy's shaking head. "Yeah, I really need that. It won't work if you're worked up." He smiled sweetly. "Am I that scary? Or is it just this?" He holds the needle into view.

"I won't tell anyone about this. Kira doesn't have to know."

"Kira will know because I'm going to tell him." His long fingers flick at the injection needle. "Bargaining chip gone... oh well." He shrugged.

"No, please, don't!" He winced hard when the needle point pierced the skin of his neck, the movement made it pinch a second time as the long warm metal shifted inside. "What did you do...?" His breathing sped up, along with his heart rate. He's exhibiting symptoms of hyperventilating. He waited for more, what more will this man do?!

But he only stared at him. "Pure liquid caffeine.." He said when the boy began to calm just a bit. "Illegal for use, so decreed the FDA." He removed a stethoscope from his coat pressing it to the boy's chest then back. He snickered. Lowering the instrument to rest around his neck, he then took some tape from the trunk doubling as a coat and used it to tape the flat dot to the teen. "Have a listen." He says placing the buds into Nakashima's ears.

Kubo can hear it, like a war drum. Do-goo, do-goo, do-goo at the pace of an expert paddle-baller. He was shot from his distraction by a very strong force hitting the center of his back to send him flying. He heard his heart slamming and his own voice deafening him as his scream was magnified by the medical instrument.

"Hm. Nakashima Kubo, age fourteen. Died of a heart attack from fear and too much caffeine." Because the teen was long since dead before he made a mess on the pavement. B can just barely hear the stunned patrons below shrieking and calling for help. Some, believing it was Kira's doing, just went about their business as the boy wasn't even a speed bump on the sidewalk, just a blip in the coming era of abnormality. Not concerned in the least that there may be a killer in the area.

In Guildford, Surrey.

Surely one would think the UK would throw the battle weary a bone by not exhibiting the mood they're in with matching weather conditions, but alas, it does not care about brightening moods only further dampening. The deep gray clouds are unleashing a downpour to rival a kid with codependent issues being carted off to school for the first time. No chance of it letting up. Today is a day for rest.

Mello ran a fluffy deep blue towel vigorously though his wet hair to dry it. "There's still hot water." He removed the towel from his head and hurled it in the direction of the bathroom. "Matt? Shower." He waves his hand before his partner's face.

"Hm?" As if he was yanked from a stupor, he nodded although he isn't entirely sure of what he's nodding to do or agreed upon.

The guy looks like he emotionally went twelve rounds in a boxing ring, and now he's laid out on his back in bed recovering; he looks damp and clammy as well, which is why it wasn't suggested but rather an order by Mello that he shower off the night.

"Yeah, right." Slowly sitting up, he yanked his shirt over his head then dropped it to the floor; undoing his jeans when he stands, he then heads off towards the bathroom to finish stripping.

'The hell is his problem?' Wondered the embittered, groggy blond while giving the red-head the stink eye. It would seem a day off to rest is just what they both need.

He'd seen Near's team really concentrating downstairs as they returned to the safehouse last night and passed through the hall. Whatever they're doing seems pretty important as the younger detective didn't so much as glance at them as he usually would when they'd passed through. He should swing down there and check it out. It's decidedly, against his will, been deemed a team effort investigation, after all. If they have a lead, he should know about it.

"Matt, I'm going downstairs; get some sleep or come and eat when you're done." He called to his partner who's still in the shower. "You look like shit."

He doesn't wait for a response before heading out of the room and down to the study or kitchen, whichever came first; with no staff they've been tasked to cook for themselves, although S, ever present in the role of mother, stepped in and has been doing most of the cooking. Minor things like bowls of Corn Flakes or a toasted bagel the investigators do for themselves. And for himself he is doing as he pulled a bowl from the neat stack in the cabinet, he grabbed the pitcher of milk on his way to the pantry setting both items onto the kitchen table before disappearing into the walk-in.

Near watched the movement of his ally, greeting him accordingly when he emerges into the larger space. "Good morning, Mello; you'd gotten in late last night."

Mello didn't comment, it was actually 2 am at the time of their arrival. He and Matt had been out searching around in nearby motels, hotels, and rooms for rent to check up on any recent occupants. The deadly duo couldn't have slept outside, not with his Highness in the fold. B would, but he might not be successful at convincing Light to. Coming up empty they returned home. He hadn't expected they'd find them, he also hadn't expected the headache involved with watching tons of security footage through fast forward to see who rented a room over the last few hours. How did L do it?

Pouring himself 2 servings of Cocoa Puffs and a good amount of milk, he plunked his bottom into the chair and started eating.

Near, having not yet had breakfast, joined him by fixing himself a bowl of apple cinnamon oatmeal in the microwave. He needed that minute and thirty to decide what to tell Mello about the consolation prize currently occupying room 5 in the safe house with them. Setting the bowl of steaming hot oats onto the table across from the distracted blond, Near calmly states.

"We've got Misa Amane in custody." He shoves a spoonful of food into his mouth. He wasn't one for dramatic flare, but he liked a good moment of pause now and then. "We finished with our interrogation last night." Near explained without explaining. "Blood test came back a match, one hundred percent." Because he knows that the first thing anyone who knows about the Kira case and the publicized death of actress/model Misa Amane knows that Near's declaration is improbable. The dead can't be interrogated without a Ouija board.

"But.."

She drowned. Was pronounced dead, even had a body for the funeral. What could be said? L died and had a funeral. Light the same. Beyond was badly burnt and killed by the notebook, save aside from L, they're walking around fine and dandy. Can't anything ever just stay dead in this world? Why'd the supernatural have to get involved. When he was a right hand for his brains and enforcer on the side for the mob, anyone he shot and killed stayed as such. Nowadays a person can be broken into chunks and somehow manage to make it home for dinner. Fuck!

"Did she say how?" Because she must have some clue as to why and how she's still breathing.

Near removed a flash drive from his shirt pocket extending it over to the older detective. "Be my guest." Because had he simply told him what Amane said, Mello would likely use force to conduct his own interrogation of her.

...

Matt is standing under the hot spray of water; eyes bleary, though not from the water rushing about them but because of something he took while at the mansion in the forest. It's been awhile since he's had the good stuff, the strong stuff in his system. Light left his pain killers right out on the nightstand, and he may have slipped a few into his pocket before he and Mello fell for the, thankfully failed, trap in the kitchen of B's home. He also might have taken one when they separated to search for the murderous duo. And he's on the border of feeling good and feeling like shit. Children's Tylonal does not stop the ache that nags at his breathing, nags him to headache, and steals his clarity from time to time. Hell, he'd have to overdose just to feel the cheap things working! But Light, he's never had any problems with drugs, he gets the good stuff.

Mello's going to be pissed.

He turned off the water when hearing movement in the bedroom. He stepped out of the shower and left a travelled trail into the bedroom where his partner is currently shoving a drive into his laptop. He should really get him his own device.

"What are you looking at?" He asked taking a dampening seat beside Mello on the couch. Sitting in wet might have been annoying if it wasn't his own, but he hardly noticed since he's still currently dripping and air drying.

"That blonde psychopath is still alive," He nods when seeing the wide-eyed expression from Matt. "Not me, Amane. Yeah." He says when Matt's eyes could rival the perception of an alien's. "Near said they just finished questioning her; it's all right here." His index tapped the screen.

The drive booted up and the video began.

"State your name." Commander Rester

"Misa.." She huffed out her agitation and bellowed. "You know it is!"

And they do. They've been saying it to her since they brought her here, wherever here is because she's still uncertain. Since being taken from the cell she's smelled food before her twice, and each time she's ignored it. Her stomach hurt too much to eat anything. It's not a cell, yet the place she's sitting isn't the most comfortable or even soft. It feels like a basic wooden chair.

Her head turned left and right as if she might could see through the blindfold. "Where am I?"

"Safer than you were with Beyond Birthday." Replied her new owner.

"How do I know that? You could torture me, just like he'd been.." Tears slide down her cheeks.

"We're not going to torture you, miss Amane."

"And stop calling me that, it's not Amane.. I've been Misa Yagami for years."

Near's voice came over the intercom attached to a device in the agent's ear. "Commander, ask if she knows where Light might go if he was on the run."

Rester nods, he would have replied but there was no need for it, they can see him in the monitor. He's got an earpiece to hear his boss without having it go to Misa as well. "Mrs. Yagami, Light and Beyond have gone on the run. If you help us track them down you'll be set free, we'll get you to the hospital so you can be treated." The hospital will have their hands full. Malnutrition. Gashes and healing to already healed bruises. And judging by the look of her back, her shoulder had been dislocated and remained so for a time. "Is there anywhere Light has ever mentioned to you, a safe place where you could hide if the police ever caught on that the two of you were Kira?"

"Kira? This is about Kira? Are you insane?" her anger flared. "I can save you the trouble because I don't know who Kira is, nobody does. I would first have to know who he is, right/ Well I don't. Case closed. Now let me go!"

"Light Yagami is Kira and you, Misa, are the second Kira!" He slammed his palms down onto the table.

"What second Kira? What are you talking about?" Her breathing hitched and she began to cough from the dryness of her throat.

Rester looked at the camera with exasperation. From what he knows Misa has always been a tough one. Frighteningly loyal and devoted to Light. Torturing her would be cruel in her condition. But, if it would garner results, he wasn't against it. Grabbing a glass from the sideboard in the dining room, he poured water into it and walked it over to the young woman helping her drink.

The water gulped noisily down her throat telling them how long it's been since she's had any. He removed the glass when her thirst caught her and she sputtered water in a cough while catching her breath.

Rester had expected more yelling, but he didn't anticipate she'd cry. The tears could be seen as fake, but the blindfold is catching them from being visible faked or not. But the sorrow in her sobs seemed genuine.

"Why're you asking me these questions? Light is… Light is dead, isn't he? That's what the news said. He was shot up by some mobster you were chasing." A frown bent the corners of her dry lips. "I remember going to his mother and hugging her, we cried together." She sobbed remembering it all over again.

There was an unseen collective shift amongst the viewers, except for Rester who is on camera being recorded.

"Mrs. Yagami, what's the last thing you remember?"

Misa sniffled then shook her head. "I.. I remember seeing the news on TV about Light, I remember going to his mother's house… After that I went home and cried. I was so angry that I broke the television. ...Then.. something told me to go to the bridge and I jumped in."

"What happened next?"

She shook her head; her hair dirty and stringy, completely different from the once bouncing shine it held before her captivity, swayed about from the movement. "I'm not sure.. I opened my eyes to this creepy looking guy. I was on a table, and he was looking down at me. He seemed almost fake, I've never seen anyone keep their expression so blank. He said we'd play a fun game called 'Find the Soul'."

And she can still hear that statement, as clear as if it were just said to her a mere two seconds ago. Her body began to tremble as each event came back to her.

"No! No! No! No!" She screamed.

"Misa! Misa! You're safe! Calm down!"

"He should kill him! Kira should kill him! That's what he does, right!?" She swung herself about getting nowhere as she's strapped into the dining room chair. "Kira! Kira kill that man!" She stopped thrashing when Rester grabbed her by the shoulders. "Who is he? Who is that man?! Why would he killed me?" She sobbed.

The last thing heard before the video ended was Misa wondering how he could kill her so many times.

The Ms sat very still as they took in what they'd seen. Misa's alive. Beyond brought her back and has been keeping her captive to kill her. Why? What does he gain from it? What is he curious about? More importantly, why doesn't Misa remember being the second Kira or that Light is the first? Amnesia from drowning? She genuinely doesn't seem to know.

'She doesn't know Light is Kira..' Mello seemed as though he'd been to church and the lights have come shining through the stained glass and cast a glow upon the situation. A present from the heavens. "She doesn't know about Yagami- nobody does!"

Matt blinked. Not following. Then it struck him as well. Nobody knows about Light being Kira.

Maybe it's time that they find out.

0 0 0

Aizawa waited ten minutes after calling his men to assemble in the briefing room in the station where he will dole out the assignments for the day and obtain progress reports, he eventually heaved a sigh of resignation when his sergeant doesn't show up. It's annoyingly not for the first time he's been late to the meetings. He's likely stuck in traffic from having gone all the way to the other side of town to check up on Sayu Yagami. Frankly, the chief can't believe he's still holding a torch for her; she's been catatonic for some time now, and thanks to this new idiot law of Kira's she's now been moved into the R.C. to be treated like a latent criminal. He supposed he could understand why Matsuda would show such concerns, from what he knows those centers are no joke with the conditioning methods. But for Sayu to be there.. Hn. Kira really screwed up on that one.

Aizawa would actually like to know how Light Yagami would view this new Kira, he'd probably kill him if he had the opportunity and a notebook. He'd never let anyone do something like that to his sister. He'd like to believe Light's care for her was at least sincere, and yet… look at what he'd done to his own father to achieve his goals. The sick freak needed help. Too bad he'll never get any. But, some are better off dead. A help to others since they themselves can't be saved.

"Boss, we've got no new news on any member of 50, and as for the Shintaro case, we're working on the profile of victims to nab him. So far the only thing in common is that the deaths are Japanese with mixed blood."

Because Aizawa refuses to handle the Kira investigation. No more rounds of that. They're focused on finding the members of 50 and this serial killer that's apparently after citizens of mixed race. Let the F.B.I deal with it. They've been given a great deal of information regarding the previous Kira case. It's a good stepping stone for them.

He was just about to give out assignments, when his secretary came into the room. "Chief, line 2, something to do with Matsuda. Sounds urgent."

'Dolt.' He waved everyone from the room then answered the phone. "I don't care how obligated you feel to visit Sayu Yagami you'd better…" Listening to the officer on the line he nearly bent the receiver from gripping it so hard. "What?!"

….

It was impossible to heave heard, but even worse to see. It wasn't just nonsense of some prank call in person. In person it was real. Too real. Touta Matsuda sitting dead in his living room, shot- a lot.

"Someone emptied the clip into him." Said an officer on the scene.

He'd gotten a call from the dispatcher, a neighbor was knocking on his door to ask for detergent when she peered through the window and saw him there in the chair, head down, and badly bleeding.

"Mrs. Beppu says she heard sounds last night but wrote it off as street noise." The officer glanced at the distraught neighbor who's currently trying not to sob yet be nosy at the same time. "Get this, she then said why be concerned because no one's doing anything violent anymore, not with Kira back." With a scoff, he added. "Damned supporters are everywhere."

Kira. 'Could Kira have done this?' Aizawa looked at his friend and colleague. He once had so much life in him, granted it was bumbling and often too enthusiastic, but he was a damned fine man, good at his job. 'There's no way it could have been Kira, why would he or she do it? What do they know about our involvement in the original case aside from the fact that we were the only team active against Kira?'

Besides that, their names have remained an alias in the database, they had to, because knowing about the notebooks left them open to this very situation that another person could get their hands on one.

'Who would have thought it'd be another self-obsessed vigilant like Light Yagami.' One would find something like that, maybe kill an enemy or use it to become a serial killer taking out any random person who's name and face they happen to see. Not become another full scale, world altering Kira. 'Except this user is worse. Scaring the police force into doing their bidding and make these places to rehabilitate people, and the masses have turned into a bunch of grinning fools, all too scared to so much as sample a grape to see if the bunch is sweet or not.'

He didn't want to get involved. He doesn't want anything to do with this. It's not his life anymore. But how can he just sit back and do nothing. This.. Matsuda didn't take his life. He wouldn't. He was in a bad place for a while by the end of the Kira case, but he bounced back. Got his life together, started living away from the insanity of it all.

And now look at him. Dead.

'I'll avenge you Matsuda. I swear on it.'

In the warehouse district. People of all ages are gathered before a set of stairs that lead up to the central hub of the establishment.

"We're going to hear the story of another poor soul forgotten by that monster named Kira." A fifteen year old declared; stepping aside for the "poor soul".

All eyes fell upon him as he stood before them on the landing of the metal staircase. Some would find a nearly full room of eyes on them unsettling, but he's used to being stared at, whether it be one hundred or just one. He was always staring.

"My name is Fuminori and I was five at the time I was abducted, I'm twelve now…" And he had to tell them that because he currently looks only seven years of age. "A man, I never knew his name.. but he kidnapped me on my way home from school. He thought I was a girl.." He felt old tears rising to the brim of his eyelids. But he won't cry. Not in front of his fellow kin, who've all been there as he has. He will be strong through their strength. "He beat me senseless when he saw my penis; I thought then and there I was going to die… But, then he turned my head back and forth.. I can still feel his grip pressing into my teeth through my cheeks. I can still hear his voice telling me that I was kinda cute.. that I looked like a girl."

No one in the room of listeners said a word to that, sadly, it was an easy mistake to make because Fuminori looks very much like a girl, save aside his very cropped hair.

"I was raped almost everyday, and the days that I wasn't I was forced to do things to him." He huffed out a breath. "I wanted to die.. but then I saw it on the news one afternoon he stayed home from work.. This God named Kira was killing criminals," he snickered. "I waited for so long to see that lanky, tree go crashing down to the dirt, writhing in pain.. but year after year went by and nothing…"

The crowd in the room nod, as they understand, their situations are similar.

"One day I woke up and just couldn't take it anymore. He asked me to chop him an apple.. I was trained to keep him happy, he never thought that I'd attack him. I had his blood all over me, I tasted it.." He sobbed. "I vomited from stress, I screamed, I was so sure it was all a dream… It took a week for me to walk out of there after the shock wore off that it wasn't a dream. When I went home I found my mother dead, a note left on the coffee table. She killed herself because of me. She was so heartbroken.. My dad is somewhere, but I don't know where. He left her sometime while I was abducted."

"I'm sorry Fumi," says the fifteen year old, wrapping a comforting arm around him.

"I hate Kira! I hate him!" He hollered. "He's a liar! And a fraud!"

The room of kindred spirits cheered.

"And tonight we're going to get back some of what we lost!" The fifteen year old shouted. "We're going to make this phony God sees us!"

Their wild cheers could be heard along the bank of water, drifting along like invisible boats of a coming chaos.

It's a funny thing to peek people's interest. It could be the smallest, well-placed word and it can create an entire earthquake of activity from a stampede of seekers whether they believe the words that are being said or not, curiosity has them on the move.

Kira is justice.

What justice is there in scaring people to civility?

What kind of person feels they have to be scared into being civil?

Yeah!

Shut up, ya puppet! You sound so fucking stupid.

Everyone please, let's look at the bigger picture here, we're all living so much better now that Kira has returned.

Says you, my boy committed suicide last night because he slept with his girlfriend's best friend and she found out. He'd rather end his own life than have it come out of nowhere because that whore ratted on him.

Ever since Kira came back, things have been lovely here in Dublin.

Oh be quiet. From what I've heard the Irish have always been insane with hiding their feelings.

Desearía que más pudieran creer en Kira.

Pitam se ko je on?

Hey, I've got a photo of Kira. Wanna see it?

Yeah!

Oh my god! Really?!

Bullshit. You can't get pictures of Gods.

tu n'es pas drôle

Je n'essaie pas d'être drôle

Why should we believe you?

Because I was there. I helped in capturing him.

Hn. Some great job you've done, the creep's still out there and now he's back.

난 무서워. 나는 인간이 신을 볼 운명이 있는지 확신할 수 없다.

He's human. As real as you or me, and he walks among us.

The people in the group chat watch as a photo loads onto their screens sent by someone claiming to have been in on the Kira case.

Holy shit! He's hot!

Он может убить меня в любой день недели.

Me too! I want death by Kira!

くそっ。彼を知っているよ.

Light Yagami...

No way.

信じられない!

Stop speaking in code. Who is that?!

Light Yagami.

I know him from school, we used to date. There's no way Light is Kira.

In the warehouse district word got around just as quickly as on the message board, although the language barrier was a steady stream of Japanese, English, Cantonese, whatever language was spoken amongst that region of land.

"This is incredible! If this Yagami guy is really Kira..."

A teen boy smiled as he finished her sentence. "Then that means we can kill him." Turning to the chattering group of wayward youths, a few adults, he says. "This is what we've been waiting for. Kira is no god... just some pretty boy serial killer! We can end him! We can make him suffer for ignoring us."

They all cheer, hooting or pumping their fist, whistling.

The older girl nods, joining in the tirade. "He ignored our pleas while killing prisoners who were already locked up. How pathetic is that?"

"So pathetic."

"What a coward. It's like fishing from a barrel over the ocean." Said a faithful follower.

"Where're we gonna find this guy?" A girl no more than ten asks. "He kills all over the place."

"It's my belief that the most death tolls happen where Kira is currently residing." A young man with a laptop stated. "The highest death count recorded was in the UK."

Shoulders slumped and fingers snapped in disparagement. Oh well, it would seem their brethren in the United Kingdom will have the honors. The computer whizz got to work on sending an encouraging, email to England's 50.

Mello smiled at the attention the photo was getting. Sucks that some people are sick enough to suddenly support Kira because he's good-looking, but at least it won't really harm anyone.

At least it wasn't supposed to.

Many people didn't take it so well that Kira could just be some random human. They've been terrorized not by a God but a terrorist with a God complex! How dare that fucking clown take them for a ride! Reduce their existence to whipping boys or else it was being confined in lockup and considered a criminal until tests proved otherwise.

It was bedlam all over again! Some took to message boards declaring Kira a fraud, stating it was time to get back to the way things were before the change became too great. Others were violent, they overturned outdoor trash cans, shoved and belittled supporters of Kira. Some even got into fist fights when asking their fellow man how Kira's wants could be seen as bad?

Light Yagami's face is plastered on every television screen that has news teams. Who is he? How did he obtain such a power!? Why won't he share it?

And on and on the words and programs speculated and raged.

In his bedroom. Safe and sound. Light Yagami watched the new development unfolding. So that was their plan? To give up his identity. Hn. A bold move. He won't be able to go anywhere without a disguise. But, perhaps this is best.. He no longer needs to hide. He can be a true face amongst his people, work more closely with them beyond the screen.

His attention goes back to the television The news crews are talking about him. His past as a student, his accomplishments in the F.B.I. Boy, they got the 'speculation' videos together awfully quickly. You'd think he was a coming holiday while currently in another.

He cocked a brow at a picture of him from when he was on the swim team when he was fifteen years old. How'd they get that? They must be going through the school's yearbooks.

'Hn. Just let them try to paint a bad picture of me, it'll be impossible.' Thinks the up and coming God.

A loud crash caught his attention from downstairs. He turned his head as if he could see through the drywall and wooden boards at the whatever made the sound. Beyond must have found him, the guy's been out all night. They didn't have a plan to meet up at his house, he'd just assumed it was obvious.

He started for the bedroom door when another crash caught his attention, this one is closer, visible. Briefly anyway, because the thing that made the sound burst open upon impact and engulfed the bedroom in flames...

X x X

Commentary: Thank you very much for reading. If anything is a mistake I'll find it next time, sorry. If the foreign languages are botched I used a translator and again, sorry. Ahaha. No more apologies, okay. I hope you're having a good weekend and had a kickin holiday and year's end. If not, me either ahaha, it's all good though, we press on so middles fingers up whatever ruined your's, mine, and our good time.



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