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.

M.T. Symposium. Shibuya, Tokyo.

Sayu Yagami opened her eyes to another day.

Another day of left arm, right arm, lift legs, torso; pardon my reach comment; dressed then placed before the window. A big open world reduced to nothing more than a square of environment. It's like a large digital frame. Morning. Night. People. No one. Raining. Snow. Sunlight… How can the sun shine so brightly?

Because the sun can't help it. It's not happy, it's just functioning.

Sayu Yagami should be doing that, but she can't. She just can't. She's tried. But she can't. She can't move forward towards the light. Light hasn't abandoned her, it's more truth that she has abandoned it. Her father is dead. Her brother is dead. Her mother comes, all the time in person, but her spirit never does. It's frozen in a horrible place, just as she. There was one day, an outside visitor began to trickle in now and then. He was handsome, kind, familiar. What was his name again? Touta? Yes, Touta Matsuda. She looked at him, saw him. But not for long. The bad men came back for her, yanked her away, pulled her back in; his thick arms held her tight before throwing her to the floor, stone, hard unforgiving stone. His slimmer friend tied her up tight. Much too tight; his skilled hands never explored beyond tying the rope; small miracles. His only job was to hold her hostage got some notebook. It must have had serious government secrets for someone to go as far as snatching her to gain her father's and brother's attention.

It was cold, dimly lit, smelled so thick and chalky; a fresh crack of concrete dust, that's the scent in her memory. Her body began to tremble as the darkness blocked the light of another day. The memory is so engulfing. As always. The man in the mask. Her father. That top secret notebook. The glass room. And the loud, dangerous pounding and rattling of a spray of bullets.

She jumped when her mother's touch was felt, because it didn't belong to her mother at the time it belonged to the abductors; the ones who'd moved her hair aside with a brisk thrust in order to silence her with a palm sweat flavored bandana in her mouth that was tied so tight her jaws locked up around the amount forced at the back of her teeth. There had been no need for it, fear had long since stolen her voice from her and she'd gagged on her own saliva too many times from being unable to swallow. She'd been laughed at for crying.

"What are you crying for?" A faceless voice asked. "Nothing's happening to you."

Everything was happening. System overload! While his voice remained so calm, so controlled. It didn't fit the situation. He should have been irate, high-strung. A little scared.. maybe even just a little... Clear.

Sayu blinked. Returned. Not to the light, but to the dim. Her line of vision aimed for out of the window sees the bright of day and the tall and small buildings in the distance with a few trees accenting the view. Her acknowledgment identified her mother and the common action of her brushing her hair for her. She parted her lips to say something: Mother, I'm still so scared. Mother, why did it have to happen? Mom.. please stop being sad, I'm ok. I'm fine. Mom.. I'm sorry. But, her voice did not come out; her lips moved unseen by the recipient. Clear. And she was gone again.

In Guildford, Surrey deep in the forest.

"Aha ha ha ha!" Matt's breathing sped up like a victim of hyperventilation, then gradually it slowed to normal. He laid on his back, arms spread and a knee bent; a scowl spread his mouth into a deep line on his miserable face. He tilted his head back when hearing footsteps approaching. 'Guess this is the part where I get capped during incapacitation..' he groaned inwardly. But it was not a gun wielding Kira or whatever ghoulish horror Beyond would do. He would have smiled at his lover if he didn't look so pissed. "I take it you came up dry, too?"

"Not nearly as bad as you," reaching out he yanked him up on his feet, when the techie took his offered hand. "What happened?"

Matt nodded towards the closed off hideaway nook. "I thought they had someone tied up; I went to help her and got maced by nitrous oxide."

Mello made an unreadable expression before turning away. Matt scratched the back of his head, confused. He could really use a little mindless fun right now. Maybe some Tetris or Sonic the Hedgehog. Pokémon battles, for sure, he could smack the smile off that popular yellow fuzz ball. Joining Mello at the kitchen table, he dropped his weight onto a chair and withdrew a cigarette from the pack in his vest pocket. He ignored the newly added hole in the center of it, the twin at his back. He'd sewed up the holes from last year's shootout just to gain another. Maybe it's the vest? It could be attracting bullets. He felt better as the paper burned away and the baby fire turned the dry nicotine into a smokable fume.

"What did you find?"

"A creepy ass My Size Yagami doll, with a real working head, which turned just in time to mace me with Ketamine; I hallucinated a scuffle with B, I thought my legs would go running on ahead of my torso as I'd be cut in half by a chainsaw wielding nut." He scrubbed his scarred face with his hands as if trying to wipe away the residue of the airborne drug. "This whole place could be boobytrapped."

Matt blew out a puff of smoke, watching the grey tendrils allowed him to catch sight of the fridge. Getting up he walked over and pulled a yellow sheet of paper from beneath a strawberry magnet.

"To the intruder this may concern," he reads. "Light and I are out for a movie; if you're reading this that means you've found our hideout. Good for you!" Mello's single brow rose at his partner's captivating impersonation of Beyond, voice-burnt accent included. "Unfortunately, it also means that now you're in the bonus round; the rules are simple: leave," his voice returned to normal, however there's now a noticeable panic. "this house will self destruct!"

Mello jumped up out of his seat. Was he serious?! Of course he is! There's no coming back here now that they've found the place. Why keep it? The nearest exit is the back door, but it's probably locked, he couldn't possibly allow their escape to be easy for them. Matt looked like he was ready to scream, and when his lips parted the blond former-enforcer thought he would.

"Fuck it. I call his bluff, and if we die, we die."

That surprised him. 'Poor guy has cracked up.' Thought Mello.

Matt's right; he is sick of the games and the bullshit. If they die, at least they've come this far. There will be others to take their place. And who knows, maybe that white haired bobble-head will catch and execute the nightmare pair. Stranger things have happened, for Christ's sakes, they're standing their ground in an assumed bomb site. He closed his teal eyes, both he and Matt, and for one minute they waited. A voice came over the Smart speakers.

Automated male voice: 1 minute remaining... 30 seconds...

The pair don't move. They don't blink. The only show that they haven't become statues is their chest moving forward and back as they're breathing either for good or the for last time.

Automated male voice: 10... 9.. 8... 7... 6...

The pair lock eyes knowing this could be the last time they'd ever see each other alive. In their head, they're counting down. 3.. 2.. 1..

Matt cringed when hearing a bang, they both look towards the door after a heavy thump sounded from the other side. Mello smelled no scents of perfume or anything, and there was no hiss of gas. Matt could guess that Beyond, maybe even Kira, can see them from some camera. They're probably laughing their asses off thinking they'd get a real show of panic. Joke's on them.

Mello cocked his head in the direction of the back door indicating they go over. Guns drawn, they make their way to the door where the mysterious cause of the thump awaits. Mello silently instructed that Matt get the door while he is the one to go out and shoot. And when the wooden obstruction was yanked open Mello found the source of the thump. A body. Holding a rifle.

Seeing no immediate evasive or assaulting tactics come into play, Matt moved to stand beside his partner. "Is that Beyond?"

"Or another dummy..." Mello stepped outside into the cool October air and looked around.

It seems a bomb wasn't the threat but a sniper on the roof once they departed the back exit.

"Are you two ok?" Came a familiar female voice over their intercom, she must have found their frequency.

"We're fine, S,"

"Is that Beyond? I saw him on the roof, he sprang up with a rifle aimed down. I figured he must be waiting for someone." She thought it would have been commander Rester. He'd gone into the home ten minutes ago, just short of Mello going back inside. Seraphim traded places with Gemma, who was done securing a barrier at the forest entrance. So, it was a stroke of luck that she was at the back of the home and able to bring down the gunman.

"It's a marrionette. Beyond's not here, neither is Kira."

Matt popped Mello on the arm with the back of his hand. "Do you think they really went to the theater?"

Mello shrugged. Strange as this all is, it's very possible the two are at the movies, probably watching some slasher or end of the world type mockumentary like The Purge franchise. He can just see the title of the next one: The Purge: Kira's Reign; premis "We're all fucked". What are his odds of becoming one of the main survivors in the worldwide cast? Slim. Damn.

"Seraphim, we found a note so we're going to check out that location," Matt reports, though he doesn't tell the contents of said note. This may not be a competition, but it's not exactly a free for all. "If you're staying here, be careful."

"I've got my team in the area. I'll be fine, but thanks."

Turning off the intercom, Matt says to his partner. "Even if they're gone, someone might have seen them afterwards."

"Yeah." Looking down at the gun wielding doll that's now sporting a rifle bullet of its own through the forehead, he stooped down and lifted the weapon from it's possession. No sense in leaving it, they might need it. And even if they don't, why leave it for the enemy?

...

Mello and Matt are at the local theater, standing at the concessions with one of Matt's drawings of Beyond Birthday and an old photo of Light Yagami from his college student ID. The employees, while still doing their job of dishing out snacks and drinks, are looking over the photos with a scrutinizing eye.

Each one of them shook their head when seeing Light's photo, one man's lingered a bit giving them hope- up until he said: "I wish I'd seen him, a guy that hot doesn't come around often.'' The pair mentally rolled their eyes at that. So what if he's good-looking, the guy is a psychopath, sociopath, and what the hell, maybe he even jaywalks. Whatever can be done wrong, Light is likely now doing it. How attractive would the employee find him if he knew that? Ha!

"I think I've seen this guy," A mousy younger girl says, most likely a teen fresh in the worker's permit stage in life. "Yeah, it's in the eyes, but he wasn't exactly dressed like some Vegas castaway."

"Oh? Hold on," Matt fished a second photo of Beyond from his pocket, one with the guy drawn as he normally walks about, rather than a gruesome embodiment of a death God.

"Yeah! He was here, but he was with another guy. He had good-looking eyes like the guy in this photo but that wasn't him."

Mello mutters to Matt. "He was probably wearing a mask;" to the employee he asks her. "Did you see which way they went after the movie ended? Did they stay to the end?"

"Yeah. The bigger one came back over and grabbed an extra pack of strawberry fruit snacks."

"Were they saying anything or did they mention wanting to go anywhere in particular?"

"They didn't say anything that we could have heard, it's very loud in here most night; he just wanted the fruit snacks. Then they left."

Turning away from the counter, he started away. Looks like they'll need to just shop hop incase they swung through somewhere nearby. "Matt, draw up another picture of B, then take it and search one side of the street while I take the other."

Matt, being a little more practical, snapped a picture of the drawing with his phone and left open a tab with Light's photo; parting ways, they resume the manhunt until early the next morning.

...

Commander Rester listened to the sounds upstairs. It's Mello and Matt. He would have been concerned had he not known the pair were on location, but seeing that they arrived first, he chalked it up to any sounds of feet or sudden bangs overhead belongs them. He entered the home through a window tucked nearly underground, a basement window; many Western homes have them. Thankfully this was a true window and not an accent piece; it opened at an acute distance. It's enough. He can slide through.

Removing his jacket, he readjusted the holstered gun, then laid down on his back and slid himself in through the opening. It was a brief panic as his feet dropped into the dark abyss below as he didn't know what to expect concrete? Floor? Soil? One never knows with a basement. Never mind what he'd land on, when would he land was the bigger panic? The drop could be farther than he could have guessed; a costly move that could ensure a broken ankle, wrist, or back, leaving him at the mercy of the homeowner.

"Oof!" His feet hit the dirt hard but with a quiet thump!

His handgun is promptly reached for and aimed, the flashlight attached switched on to illuminate the space. It smells and not just of dirt, but thankfully not of excrement. Something brushed against his ear, not a cobweb, despite the bare floor the basement is remarkably clean; it must have been a mosquito that came in through the window when he had. Nothing was especially screaming at him outside of the door. There's a few locks on it, but the weird thing is that it's on the inside of the basement door rather than the outside. How does that make sense? Is he trying to keep himself out of the room? Then why have the room at all?

Walking over to the metal door, he touched the locks. They're legit sturdy and secured to keeping something out of the room. Looks like he'll be going out through the window, luckily there are ample things for him to stand on for a boost.

No subterranean space should be this clean. What goes on down here? He wondered. His stern face hardened when looking over several gurneys containing wrist straps, stirrups, and an ice pick. Ice pick? Rester couldn't keep his hand from touching it, gloved, of course; always search every site by protocol. The pick could contain prints from both user and frightened victim trying to keep safe from harm. If he had his forensics kit with him he'd of bagged it.

Gun lowered, he gets on the walkie. "Sorel, do you have a forensics kit in the car?"

"Sure do." Came the chipper reply.

"If you can leave your brother for a moment, bring it to the mansion. I found some…"

A sudden voice came out of nowhere, telling him he had one minute. Why? A minute to do what? Did he trip a wire? He doesn't think so. Rester looked around; should he hide? Where? Run? He's still not sure why. He just knows a voice is giving him a minute.

Automated male voice: 30 seconds..

Scratch that. 30 seconds. He locates the speaker but little else. The basement is nothing spectacular outside of suspicion that this is where a known serial killer has been doing his killings, at least some of them.

10… 9… 8.. 7…

The commander waited through the countdown; when all was said and done he found out the reason behind it. Or what he considered the reason, knowing nothing about what's gone on upstairs. A wall opened up. Curious, he followed the glowing yellow light, his own flashlight on as if pushing back anything bad that the glow might house. Winning in power through brightness didn't guarantee safety, it just meant whatever he was outshining knows he's coming. Back against the wall, he sneaks into the glowing passageway.

Rester isn't one for swearing, but if ever there was a time to do so…

As if on display like a living doll, or perhaps suffering of Severe Combined Immune Deficiency, SCID, better known as "Bubble Boy Disease", a young woman is sitting complacent in her captivity. She didn't even twitch to attention when he whispered to her.

"Hey, I'm getting you out of here." He says firmly.

Looking at the plastic divider, he searched for an entry finding none. He touched the surface expecting resistance; however, the wall swayed away from him, a breeze could have moved it. It was literally plastic wrap. He nearly staggered forward from the unexpectedness of it. He'd of preferred it, actually, because once he was past the plastic barrier he smacked into a sincere wall, although it's made of glass this time. How has she not suffocated to death in there? No air holes or vents that he can see.

Aiming the barrel of his gun downward, he fired on the glass wall. Shattering it with a third bullet the young woman finally became alert that anyone was in the room as the brief dangerous shower of shards rained to the floor. She breathlessly began saying "No, no, no, no.."

"Sshhh. It's alright, I'm not here to hurt you." Kneeling down, he undoes the rope around her wrists. He's taken aback that there are no lacerations on her considering how tightly the rope was tied to bind her limbs together.

Once the ties were free she wrapped her arms around his shoulders. No tears. No crying. Just panting, breathlessly as if she'd been holding it the entire time she was behind the glass. How long was she behind the glass?

"Come on. We're leaving." He picked her up, bridal-style; she weighs near to nothing; he can feel sinew and bone. "You're going to be alright now. It's ok."

Rester left the mansion with the young woman, just as he crossed the threshold with the corpse bride, Sorel Espinoza appeared with the forensics kit.

"We're going to need more than yourself, this place could be filled with others in need of help, or victims long gone."

May as well lessen the list of missing persons at the precinct.

Flashing the beam of his light upon the woman, Sorel looked spooked. "Is that really her?"

And by "her" he is referring to the second Kira, Misa Amane.

At the airport in London.

Light Yagami stood in line waiting to board the airplane; Beyond has yet to arrive. It was a twenty five minute drive by taxi to the British Airways, the wayward Semigami might not make it at all. Light wondered if that was such a bad thing? After all, what good has B been to him since their getting together? Sure, he's brought an extra notebook into the fold, and he has assisted in eliminating criminals. But overall, the guy is a loose cannon, a wildfire without so much as a thimble of water to attempt to put it out.

He wouldn't be so bad, if he'd just stop killing people who haven't done anything wrong. Is it such an impossible thing? How would it look to the world, his world, if someone like Beyond was able to run amok killing kind and decent people? He'd lose his credibility! He'd be dethroned, he'd be a laughing stock just like…

'Just like L…'

"Excuse me," came a familiar voice from somewhere in the crowd of people. "Pardon me."

Light watched as B pushed and shoved his way through the crowd of people in the lineup to board the plane. His ally and enemy. But, there was no way. Beyond wouldn't help him just to deface his goals and plans. What would be the point of it? He's made it very clear that he isn't on L's side, and the way he treats Mello, Matt, and Near he's not in favor of them either. So then what?

'The guy could really have schizophrenia, I've seen him popping a pill now and then. Maybe he doesn't even know what he's doing? Can the dead have mental disabilities?'

"I don't do lines, fatso, move it." He shoved a large man aside with ease. B finally found himself behind Light Yagami, and he grinned at his companion. "Thought you'd get lucky and I'd miss the plane?" He crooned. Swiping his ticket from the front pocket of the unfortunate travel buddy's shirt, he continued shoving people aside until he was on the plane and taking a seat.

Light took the seat beside him but in the other row.

This was apparently unheard of to the Semigami because he got up from his seat and joined Light.

"They won't let you sit like that when the plane takes off." Informed the coming God. He doesn't know why he thought this would be easy on him. B's been one frustration after another.

"I may be dead, but rigor mortis is having some hell of time keeping me stiff." He removed his feet from the seat and planted them on the floor, his rear end replaced where his feet had been. "See."

"Excuse me, but I think you're in my seat," a woman smiled kindly as she spoke to Beyond. She locked eyes with his unblinking eyes. It appeared as if she wanted to further insist but.. the man didn't blink, she glanced at Light as if to ask for help, but she was ignored as he closed his eyes feigning sleep. "I.. Um.. Where is your seat?"

"Right here."

Shaking her head, the woman made her words more clear. "No. The seat assigned to you on your ticket,"

"Right behind you. Have it."

"But they'll check."

"And then what?" He cocked his head at an odd angle. "Hmm? ...What?"

"Nothing. I'll just sit in your seat."

Beyond glowered at her. "What kind of lame routine is this, I told you I'm not letting you sit here. You should say "then I'll take the seat on your plane ticket, sorry to have bothered you", and I'd then say "good call". Nobody wants to maneuver around you because you want to stand in the aisle trying to uproot me."

"Yes, of course. I'm sorry." Holding out her ticket, she says. "Incase the stewardess wants to see your ticket."

B handed her his ticket, taking her ticket in exchange. His manic eyes watched her up until she settled down and fastened her seatbelt. Why does anyone want to protect these? Wondered the murderer. Pulling his feet back up into the seat, as he'd never intended to leave them on the floor, he looked over the footage on his Smartwatch.

'Hmm.. I'd forgotten about the puppy.. Oh well, she's their problem now.' It's just as well. Light really wasn't earning his rewards. Kira seems more a ghost of his former self than the killer B had anticipated would partner him in this life.

Oh well…

In Shibuya, Japan.

Sachiko Yagami just left her daughter's room after visiting with her again. The aging woman was at the front desk when a doctor stopped her. He's not dressed as the other doctors, his cool pale orange scrubs don't really fit in with the Easter pastels of the medical staff.

"Mrs. Yagami?" He held his arm out indicating that he'd like for her to take a seat in the row of chairs lining the wall near the exit.

"Yes?" Sitting, she held her breath. What was wrong now? How could this bad situation become worse?

"We have to inform you that your daughter has qualified to be reassigned."

Confused, she blinked. "Reassigned? Where? This is the best facility to treat my daughter's condition," She did the research, it really is the number one hospital for the mentally disabled to receive treatment towards recovery.

"There's been a change going around; you didn't get the notice in the mail?" asked the doctor.

Shaking her head, Sachiko replied. "No. I've been home but the last thing I can think about it mail sometimes."

"I see. Well, there's a new law that was passed. Kira,"

"Kira? I thought he was gone?" Hoped, he was gone! Prayed for his long staying absence.

"He's returned. He.. he has our complete support; we know what he's capable of. Even the great detective L gave up his life to Kira's order."

"What?" Has she really been so checked out of the world?

Her daughter may be catatonic, but she's a travelling version of it. She can move, eat, behave as a normal person. But, in reality, she's become stunted to what's going on around her. She doesn't watch the news, she doesn't want to know the bad in the world, having suffered her own personal worst. Why would she want to know more? Just good things or nothing at all. That was her state of being. So far, she's had nothing at all. Her entire family has been lost to her. There is nothing left of happiness. Just function for her daughter, who is the one person she at least has in body if not spirit.

"Kira would like to send candidates qualified as latent criminals to rehabilitation centers, so that they can be treated and someday return to society with a healthy, cooperative state of mind."

At first, Sachiko didn't understand what she'd just heard. What was this man saying? Was he calling her daughter a criminal? Why? "Why are you saying this?"

"Saiyu has been in this state for nearly two years now, let's say she snaps out of it tomorrow.." the doctor snapped his fingers. "After what happened to her, the chances of her being as she once was are very unlikely. PTSD is very serious, and some become the very thing that hurt them. Rape victims become rapist, people who are abused find someone weaker to abuse, in your daughter's case, she may think of every man coming and going as harmful." He parts his hands as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. "We can't have her harming a man who only wants to hold a door open for her."

"You're serious about this? What if I say no?"

"You don't really have a choice. I'm sorry if this surprises you, but it's what must be done."

"Because of some wind-bag in the sky?" She stands, making herself larger, as small as she is, she needs to come off larger. More powerful, more in control. She may have allowed the situation of loss to crush her down, but mess with her family and there's a mighty price to pay.

"Please ma'am," he waved for her to be seated as he is. "We only want to help Sayu,"

"She's not even out of her catatonic state, and you think there's someone in there for you crude treatments to help? My daughter is no criminal, and I won't have you treat her as one."

"Mrs. Yagami, please, you're becoming hysterical."

"And I suppose now you believe that I could be a latent criminal?!"

"Well…" He doesn't finish his sentence as a purse struck him on the side of the head.

That was a bad move, because now they'd have to take Sayu Yagami by force, and her mother has gone on the watch list for latent behavior analysis.

Somewhere between London and Tokyo.

Light wasn't sure what the reason could be that he's dreaming so much lately. He hates dreaming. Some say it means you're having a restful sleep, he doesn't see it that way. He just feels distracted from rest by watching all the silly little pictures and things fluttering around in his mind. Today's special is starring L. They always seem to star L. He's always saying something to him or doing something with him that seems almost like a code to be cracked.

Except for right now. Right now was just some baser needs. He's watching his own hand touching along the glide of the detective's inner thigh. He remembers the day too. He was commenting on Watari being an amazing baker, coming up with such creative and still tasty pastries and cakes. L told him that Watari couldn't bake at all, he merely arranged the purchased treats onto a tray then brought them in.

That's what started their illicit moment; because their relationship was never so normal as seeing sex or hearing about it, they could simply be speaking to each other, once it was during a session of their own made-up crossword puzzle. They would give a description to and the amount of letters for the answer then wham! Nude and following through. That day L had removed a large white chocolate Kiss dyed green from atop a tiny orange bundt cake; the sweet was made to look like a pumpkin, the inside of it housed loose chocolate.

Light watched L take a moment deciding how to attack the thing before he chose lifting it up and drinking out the contents. It was the content hum, that brought him over to him where he then wrapped his arms around him from behind then rubbed at his thighs. L relaxed to his touch but continued indulging in the dessert, for him one sweet thing coincided with another. The accused Kira was offered the residue of dark chocolate on the detective's fingertips and he surprised even himself by licking it off.

But that's not the reason why they had sex. It was what happened afterwards when the detective took his turn in the game they were currently playing: Scrabble. L used a particularly posh word: 'Oxyphenbutazone' for 1,778 points. To be able to play with someone who's vocabulary was levels stronger than 'Electric' or 'Basket' as his sister or father often used as a go-to, he couldn't hold himself back.

He took L. The initiator always took the top position. And he helped himself to every bit of the body that contained such an attractive mind, and the response was always so titillating. L's long fingers never pinched at him during those times as if he were something meant for a baggie. He felt the full of his touch on his back and in his hair or on his shoulders or when getting him hard.

The L in his dream deviated from the true situation to lock eyes with him, and he said in that monotone, low voice of his. "I could fall in love with you Light Yagami,"

Light responded with a scoff.

"I know, what a disaster that would be." He pulled him down to kiss him, just a peck, then he said. "I'm not ready to die just yet."

Not because the current, notebook free Light would have killed the detective, but because he would have become distracted to the foreign object that is love, lust, and a relationship. L has lived isolated by choice, so to get to a place where he'd willingly allow someone in, would kill him from his current life.

Light opened his eyes, the words resonated. Love means death. He's been told that bit of information about Shinigamis by Misa. At the time it was needless, then it became the most valuable trump card he could play against the otherworldly being. Is that what his dream was trying to tell him? Use Beyond. Trick him into falling for him, then when he absolutely has no choice he'll put his life in danger and the Semigami will save him, thus killing himself. Would it work?

His gaze slants sideways where said death god is seated in the fetal position. He's smiling at a screen showing a cartoon. It was worth a shot. Righting his slightly slanted posture, he asks. "How long have we been in flight?"

"Six down five more to go." Replied B without looking away from the screen.

Eleven hours. He'd compare it not taking so long to arrive in London, but honestly when he was brought to the UK he was in a coma.

'How do I go about making the guy fall for me?' It wasn't even a matter of whether or not B was gay or straight.

Mikami was straight and look at what happened with him. The guy was head-over-heels in love with him after a day and a half. He can still feel his creepy touch, but he shut it down quickly. He had no interest in the little lamb. He's never had an interest in anyone of his followers. They provided him with nothing but a means to getting what he wants without being seen. His puppets on long strings. Any romantic or sexual interest he's ever had went to L. He stimulated him in more ways than any sycophant ever could. Beyond's looks aren't that far off from the deceased detective. In the wrong lighting one would swear the ghost walked among them.

Perhaps he can project his feelings for L onto Beyond. But even with L becoming lovers just sort of happened. Neither of them planned for it- why would they? It's like how the world experiences weather, one minute it's all sunshine and the next something natural yet strange happens. They were basically each other's first rain or snow.

Beyond seems like a blizzard, and he, Light, a mere twist of wind.

Looking at said malestrom he's not surprised to see that he's looking at him. "Is your show any good?" Showing interest can help garner attraction.

"You don't have to small talk me."

"Right. Of course not. I was just wondering."

B leaned the earbuds over to him. "I've seen it three times, go ahead."

"Thanks." He stuffed the earbuds into his ears and faked watching the cartoon. What was it B said, another five hours? So he's got 5 hours to figure out how to attract a serial killer. At least it'll be easier than trying to get into this cartoon.

…...

Sayu Yagami was moved to another room, in another building, with a new staff and a new routine.

Wake up. Clear. Bathed. Clear. A video of correctional behavior. What? Clear. Meals. A video. This one had images of cruelty, bad, bad cruelty. Why is she seeing this? Where is her beacon?

Sayu blinked. It was all so clear now. Shaking her head, she spoke for the first time in a long time. "Mom! Mom!?" She cried out. "Mom!"

The lighting turned red all around her. She was up out of her chair and backing away as the room was swept with orderlies. So strong and so familiar. So much like the men who abducted her. Sayu hyperventilated as they wrestled her to the floor, needled her arm and set her compliant body into the chair she toppled over.

Back in the hole. Clear...

x X x

Commentary: You know I was channeling Walking Dead doing this chapter with Morgan and all. I'm gonna miss that show on the seasonal break. Thank you for reading, and alerting and following/favoriting. I'm sorry for mistakes and whatnot, I will fix them as I edit along before the next chapter posting.

Pyreneese thank you for the review, it means a lot. To me... I write stories that are worth a look or a full on read, but not worth commentary- at least that's how I see it ahaha. Nothing's too spectacular to be mentioned or anything. But it's fine, there's no reviewing rule otherwise there'd be a lot of "update soon" and nothing more. But thank you for your kind words. I hope to keep your interest.



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