Death Note: Shadows of the Past

[nevermoreraven]

Fandom: Death Note
Rating: Teen
DISCLAIMER: This is another death note follow-up.
Summary: Not the most cringiest, but will probably never be finished (unlike Justice Will Prevail...I'm planning on finishing that eventually).  Mostly archiving here.  It's a 'next generation successors' sort of thing with a cult and a someone friendly in the line of Yagami.  Also probably fifteen different fonts.

 

The Laws of Kira: Book I Speaking of Kira the Savior

12.2  Kira shall return and save us, and there shall be Light upon the land.  All hail Kira.

 

Everyone agreed that there was something wrong with Mitsuko Yagami.

She rarely joined in the services, and even spoke heretic views.  Many could not fathom why one of that bloodline could fail to believe, and some began to speak of enemies in the midst, or perhaps a curse.  Believer Kioshi, one of the most respected of all Kira's followers, told the rest it was the latter, sent by the dreaded L, and the very mention of that name sent brothers and sisters into a panic, and services went nonstop for a week.  Many passed out in the middle of their fiftieth prayer, and their bodies were not moved.  After all, where were they likely to get as much help as from their own god in their own temple?

Believer Kioshi spoke to Avaron, imploring her to be harsh with her sister's child in order to try to beat the demon out of her, and this was applauded by all.  Mitsuko, too, passed out from the pain, but in the dungeon which had become her home of late, where the great Lord Kira would not hear her pleas for help (had she been able or willing to utter such).

And this, because it was in accordance with Lord Kira's will, was good.

 

Mitsuko wanted to pass out from the pain, but knew she could not.

She, and some of her fellow children who were born into the faith, had been granted the opportunity to go on a field trip to Italy.  She thought it likely that she had been sent merely in the hopes that socializing with other poor brainwashed sheep would bring her around.  She, however, was smarter than them.  And she would never submit, not even if it killed her.

Which it very well might.  She had jumped out of a moving bus and taken off running, once they were in the city away from the convent.  She wasn't about to stop until she reached the sea and breathed in the salty air, so sweet in her nostrils-the smell of freedom.  Much better than just a damp dungeon, chained to the floor, especially among all those hypocrites and evildoers.  She knew they were scouring the city and cursing her name right now (only her first, for the name Yagami was holy) and that, with their resources, they were likely to find her.  She was smarter, but they had more power, for now.

It began to rain, and she gloried in it.  She'd only ever seen rain, as her stubbornness blocked her from trips outside most of the time.  She was still a bit bruised, and most likely had a fractured rib at the very least judging by how hard it was to breathe.  Still, a calculation of the angle and speed she'd have to be going to escape death entirely had eased the situation-a little bit.

She glanced backward and thought that she saw a shadow move.  They'd found her-so soon?  She shrieked as she ran into a figure in front of her.

"Are you all right, young lady?"  The voice was old, but kindly, and as she looked up, she found herself staring into a pair of intense green eyes that were surrounded by gigantic spectacles.  As her shock didn't allow her to answer right away, he took a close look at her and then repeated his question in Japanese.

"Um...yes, thank you, I'm fine," she stammered in Japanese, not wanting to show that she spoke English.  He looked English, too, not Italian.  What's he doing in Italy....no, why am I being so suspicious?  Maybe he retired here.  That explanation, however, didn't seem all that possible.

"You don't seem to be.  Are you in trouble, and if so, may I offer assistance?"  He still stared at her with a gentle expression, and the thought He cares for me floated through her head.  She couldn't understand why; it wasn't like he knew her or anything.  Then again, all the people who knew her hated her guts, so perhaps it wasn't so unlikely after all.

"Uhm, no, I don't think so.  I mean..." she rubbed at the back of her head, her impressive intelligence refusing to come up with a good lie for once.  She'd been good at talking herself out of trouble ever since she was young (and started opposing the Followers) but the compassion in the man's voice threw her off guard.  She felt a sudden pang.  No one else had ever treated her with such care and respect before.  THAT was what was missing from the 'holy writ'-atrociously writ, more like.  "...it's just, my parents are kinda overprotective, and I don't want you to get into trouble..."

"No trouble," he insisted, even though he didn't know that the Followers would have no qualms about killing him, and if he was found with her, that was likely to happen.

"Um...well...if you think you have a safe place where there won't be cameras or anything..."  It'd be a relief to talk to someone who WASN'T a Brother or Sister of the Order of Kira.

He looked a bit bemused by the request, but acquiesced.

 

She couldn't have found the place if she'd tried, which assured her that the Followers weren't likely to find it either.  For the whole of ten minutes, at least.  They had access to some pretty formidable resources.  He'd ordered her a smoothie, and she was now slurping it greedily through a straw while he sat watching her, puzzled.  She'd almost call him Grandpa, except that would be a bit of an insult, considering her real grandpa had been a mass murderer.  He was the grandpa she wished she've had if she had a normal family.

She refused to talk about her situation much, and he finally stopped pressing.  They'd talked about random things, avoiding politics, movies...there were a lot of things she didn't know.  She was a bit of a weird one, and would probably fit in perfectly if she didn't have these parents.  She might be paranoid that they'd know exactly where she was, but then again, her knowledge of computers and surveillance techniques was almost unparalleled, so perhaps it wasn't so far-fetched after all.

Somehow, they'd gotten on the subject of the Kira cases, now thirty six years ago.  She didn't seem to know about the investigator's side or perspective, but it seemed she was a firm L supporter, and kept getting more and more worked up about it.  "I mean, seriously.  What human being has a right to take others' lives into their own hands?" she practically screamed, arms flailing in gestures that threatened to hurt her arms or other inanimate objects.  The old man was beginning to get worried that he'd have to get her to the hospital before she had a fit, but then her mobile rang, and she stopped mid-rant, eyes going wide and instantly falling into an icy, almost terrified silence.  He felt an anger growing in his heart that any parent would do anything make their child this scared, and made to say something, but she shook her head quickly.

"You don't have long, and if they find you here with me they'll kill you.  Trust me.  You go out the back, I'll go out the front.  And...well, it was nice meeting you.  And talking with you."  Determination in the face of her fear filled her twelve-year old form.

He wasn't just going to stand by quietly.  "If they're hurting you, we can call the police.  Abuse is illeg-"

A laugh, amused, dismissive, still slightly nervous.  "The police can't do anything."  And with those chilling words, she swept out, falling into a glorious, graceful run.

Despite her words, the old man wasn't about to just leave it alone.  He borrowed a piece of tape from the manager and lifted several prints from the smoothie glass before making his own exit.

 

"Near, I think we've got another abused child, and I want to run the prints through the computer."

The man turned towards him, eyes bored as one finger twirled a lock of hair. "I'm not stopping you," he pointed out, before returning his attention to a case.  The elderly man nearly swore under his breath-the genius could be so inhuman sometimes that it was terrifying.

Still, that was as good as permission, so he made his way over to the equipment and started running the fingerprints through the database.

Strangely enough, the odd, charming young woman he'd met earlier that day didn't exist.  That was enough to at least partially grab Near's attention, and, after he solved another three cases, turned to this particular puzzle.

The grandfatherly figure turned to see a young black-haired teenager in a characteristic slump watching with ebony eyes, and waved just slightly.  He was pleased when the figure smiled slightly and waved back before sticking a thumb in his mouth.

 

The Laws of Kira: Book 2 Until the Day of the Return

Followers of the Lord Kira should retain faith and not stray from any of the commandments of the Laws of Kira.  If they are pure of heart, they have nothing to fear.  Those that stray from the path, however, shall be devoured by the vengeance that awaits all sinners.  Those who have done no evil shall cheer in their hearts, for Lord Kira is the savior and will re-make the glories that existed before the sinners began to despoil and corrupt the perfect world.  To save any from such a fate, they may be persuaded by any means necessary onto the correct path, and as quickly and effectively as possible, for none but Kira know the date of Kira's return.  This is the Word of Kira, and it is good.  All hail Kira.

 

Mitsuko Yagami nearly died that night.  Once again, she had defied the will of Lord Kira, and the punishments had merely grown worse over the years.  Still she persisted in her blasphemies and defiance of the Lord Kira, God of a New World.  That night she dared to say that Lord Kira was not a God, that in fact the Christians had the right idea (which had been stolen and twisted by sinners), that compassion was worth more than justice, that he was merely a human, flawed, killer.  Her punishments included those of medieval dungeons that time, But she refused to scream, biting her lip until it bled and staring hatefully with glowing violet eyes at those monks who had tried to bring her back into the fold.

Truly she is possessed.  A hurried council among the Believers was held, and it was agreed that if the spirit which had possessed her had not fled by the full moon following her twentieth birthday, she would have to be sacrificed, and the tainted blood disposed of in the Thames, for it is believed that England harbors some of the world's greatest sinners, the spreaders of darkness known as the Wammy's Children.

And because such an action would be in accordance with the Will of Lord Kira, it is good.

 

T Lawliet was riding the trains for lack of anything better to do.  He was BORED.  Uncle Near wouldn't let him help out with cases, and his mind was going so fast it demanded something to do.  So going out in public and conquering one of his biggest fears seemed to be one of the best options he had left.

He was already hating his experience as he went sightseeing, but he dutifully acted like a normal tourist and managed to half the number of stares he usually received as a result.  He didn't mind taking pictures, as he'd always liked to use a camera (although he had an aversion to having his picture taken himself).

When he heard sobbing in one of the little closed off rooms that had meant to be an office of some sort before it lost all ambition, however, he couldn't help but shuffle in that direction, curious despite himself.  He hesitated, then knocked on the door cautiously.  The crying stopped instantly.  "Um...hello, are you okay in there?"  No sound.  He repeated his question in several different European languages, guessing that perhaps the occupant of the mysterious room didn't speak English.  No answer.  He tried the door and found that it was unlocked, and the door swung open of its own accord.  He found himself face to face with a girl, probably a little older than he, with startling eyes that appeared almost purple in the light, who had been hiding and crying in what was actually a janitor's closet.  The office must be the door across the hall then.  He frowned-he'd made a mistake-before wiping the expression off his face, not wanting to scare her.  Tears were still dripping down her face and splashing on her skirt.

"Do you need help?" he repeated in a few more different languages, this time trying ones from all over the world before he realized that she looked Asian-probably Japanese.  Typical brown hair, violet eyes, small.  Apart from the eyes, which still appeared purple, she was the typical Japanese girl-at least, from all the news/pictures/television he'd seen.  He’d never met one actually.  Eventually, she nodded, reluctant to do so.

"It's going to be all right, I promise," he told her, and for the first time, she smiled-a small smile.  The smile of a child.

He grabbed her small bag, and for a moment, she lost her air of sadness and yanked at the strap, glaring at him through the tears.  He just smiled awkwardly at her and pulled her along, back toward the train.  He knew just the place for her.  Of course, he was going to get an earful for this (and for being out in the first place, since technically as one of the line of successors to the New L, he wasn't supposed to show his face much to the world), but he couldn't leave her alone like this.

He put an arm around her as she began to sob again, uncomfortable with this arrangement (especially in public!) but mind unable to come up with any alternatives.  A woman across from them smiled, thinking that they were a couple, and he did his best to ignore her.  He was VERY curious to know what was in the bag, but unlike Uncle Near had begun to develop some respect for others' personal space.

 

Mitsuko stood, tears drying a bit on her face, listening to the adults yell at her rescuer.  She longed to step in to protect him, explain, but her word was not likely to be taken very seriously once they figured out from which bloodline she hailed.

It was only a matter of time, she knew.  As soon as she saw the name above the iron gates (Wammy's) she knew where she was, and for the first time in her life felt suppressed excitement.  Here she was, at the home of the Followers' greatest nemeses.  She was safe from their influence at last-she was free!  For now, anyway.

"I thought we could keep her here, safe.  At least until we find out who she is and where she came from.  She has scars from abuse, Uncle!  We can't let her just go back to that!" her rescuer pleaded, sounding sulky and somewhat desperate.  She felt a glow in her heart.  Here was another who cared.

"It's called 'kidnapping' if she has parents, no matter what they are doing to her," an implacable, somewhat bored voice pointed out.

"I think it's a good idea," an enthusiastic voice disagreed.  "Of course, it's not up to you or me, Near.  It's up to Wammy."

Her ears perked up.  Wammy?  But he was an enemy-no, a victim-of Kira.  Then she almost gasped, as she recognized the voice.

"I think my brother would have agreed with me that, for the night at least, we should offer her hospitality here.  And, as much as the law would probably disagree with me, I think she should stay."  So Quillsh Wammy had a brother...?

A man walked out of the room and smiled at her.  He seemed in his late fifties, and she guessed who he was, hugging him desperately.  Matsuda.  The one who had dared to shoot Lord Kira.  She'd almost worship him.  If that wouldn't be stupid because he was human as well.  "Guess you heard.  I'm glad we're able to help you out, and...well, I guess that's what you're here for."  He rubbed the back of his head then hugged her back.

She should tell them the truth about who she is, but that will only make them hate her, and right now she is enjoying the feeling of being loved.

 

T looks up in shock as the new girl walks into the room while they're discussing her identity.  It's been several weeks and they feel close to the truth by this point.  He's excited that he's being given the chance to help out with an investigation for once (although Uncle Near is treating this as a punishment for bringing her here in the first place-why he can't imagine.  He's enjoying this).  She doesn't seem to exist in records anywhere-no description, no fingerprints, nothing.  They attempt DNA scans, but the system crashes.  Several times.  As if someone doesn't want them to find the results.  He's never seen something so exciting.

"I have something I have to tell you," she states in English with only the slightest of accents-another shock.  Not only does she speak, but she understands English?  "I apologize for not telling you the truth earlier, but I knew you would hate me if I told you who I was.  I do not have parents.  They both died.  I have run away because I do not want to be like them.  I hate them all for their presumption.  If there was some way I could have destroyed them all and myself as well, I would have done it, but although they told me of the massive power that supposedly runs through my bloodline, I am the most powerless of all.  If I had gone along with their evil, I would not be here now, and I would have had that power they promised me, but I was unwilling to do so.  You do have enemies, you know.  Even now they have narrowed down the location of this place to England.  Several of the Brothers have taken the oath to raze this place to the ground when it is found.  I traveled to Britain hoping that in the country of their greatest enemies, no matter if I was killed or kept in prison for my bloodline, so be it.  Dying cannot make up for the sins of my grandfather-yes, it is my grandfather who sinned, and not others, despite what the Holy Books say.  I would do it gladly.  I don't want my grandfather's legacy.  I don't even want his name.  I...part of me hates me for my genealogy and wishes me dead."  She took a deep breath, the others staring at her.  "Also, it's not like I haven't been in a dungeon for most of my life, off and on."  Her rescuer sent a triumphant See? glance at his white-haired uncle, who was absent-mindedly twirling a lock of hair staring off into nothingness, before looking at her again with a gaze of such intensity she longed to sink into the ground.  Something about the thought of her hurt was bothering him, and, while flattering, it was unnerving.  "I'm told it's blasphemy, questioning like this, but...I cannot condone his actions!" she burst out.

The man she'd met years earlier, the man she suspected was Wammy's brother, gave her a piercing glance, and she knew he'd figured it out, considering her earlier rant.

"I....I have been trying to escape for years.  I don't care if I die or am locked up in the process.  Anything's better than staying around those hypocrites, speaking my mind until they kill me or somehow convert me.  The thought that they might do so, eventually, scares me more than anything.  I don't want to be anything like my family."  She took another deep breath, then blurted, "My name is Yagami Mitsuko."

Absolute silence met her statement.  The eyes of her rescuer widened enough that she almost giggled, but that wouldn't be appropriate, when she'd just stated something that would probably lead to death or imprisonment.

Finally, Near, the one who had outsmarted the 'great Lord Kira' stirred and spoke.  "How do we know that you tell the truth?  There is no record of your existence."

"There wouldn't be," she answered, casting her gaze to the floor.  "All records of the descendants of Yagami was destroyed about twenty years ago, and no records were kept since.  I was born in the temple and brought up there.  We had very little contact with the outside-supposedly a corrupting influence."

"You could be a plant," Near mused, still refusing to look at her.

She snorted.  "If the Order found you, they wouldn't bother.  According to the Holy Books, you're the worst evil since murder was invented.  'Better not to associate with such evil, since corruption will not be tolerated.  Clean, pure thoughts are the only way to earn the love of Lord...'" she trailed off, staring around her, gulping.  "Forget I said that.  Well...not all of it.  ...just...I don't want to be quoting from the Laws of Kira!!!"  She slammed her hand into the table, hard.  "You'd be a ‘corrupting influence’.  They'd go straight to violence and not bother with subtlety.  They resort to violence a lot these days."

She glanced around her, and a small, secret smile crept over her lips.  "I want to hug you guys though, seriously.  I mean...you helped bring about the end of the Reign of Kira.  You guys are awesome in my book.  Near, who outsmarted Kira in the end.  Matsuda, who shot him.  And Wammy, the brother of Wammy, whom I'm assuming took over this place."

Near cast her an evaluating look, still twirling the lock of white hair.  Very intelligent...but then, if she IS a Yagami, not all that surprising.  "You are suggesting that a cult of Kira has begun and that its influence is a threat to world order."  That drew gasps from the others, even T, who should have worked it out by then.

She nodded.  "They've got Followers everywhere, at least one in every branch of government all over the world, in every level.  Police, military, secret service, even the ICPO.  They've got businessmen, doctors...whatever, you name it, they've got some.  There are convents and monasteries and temples all over the world, but the biggest one is the one I grew up in, in Japan.  That's where the Inner Circle meets, and only they know the exits and entrances.  I've tried for years to find the map to the place, but I think that's something else they erased.  It's underground, I know that much.  And it's kinda damp, and I've only been outside three times, including now.  I've tried to discover why I'm not on board with the rest of the murderer worshipers-I mean, both my genes and my environment should have made me just another happy follower of the worst serial killer in history-and psychology suggests that after this long I should have given in.  Especially after the torture.  Among all those Followers, I shouldn't have been able to develop a conscience, because none of them have one.  But here I am."  She shrugged, violet eyes turning damp as well.

Near ignored the tears, seeing the light of pride in her eyes.  Not of herself, not of her name, but of the simple fact that she stood up for what she believed in without a single clue of why she believed it.  "You have known nothing else?"

She shook her head.  "No.  I have speculated that perhaps my opposition to them stems from the lack of love, whether in the Followers or from my own family, or even from the Laws of Kira.  I...I've never had anyone care about me as a person, merely about the biological facts of my bloodline.  Yes, I am the granddaughter of Light Yagami, and thus it is the position, not the person, they're interested in.  Actually, they could care less about the individual, about the sanctity of life."  Her cheeks took on a slight reddish shade.  "I have read a little of Dr Martin Luther King, Jr.  His works are forbidden but...I greatly enjoyed them.  The policy of nonviolence, about turning people's hearts, rather than killing them, suggested a better path than a psychotic cult.  I read of Gandhi as well.  And...perhaps I am more cruel than my grandfather."  She took another deep breath.  "I believe that life is crueller than dying.  That most, especially those that have done wrong, don't deserve the quick simple end or release that my grandfather gave them.  Of course, some would never repent.  Some would never have mercy, or care about others.  Those are what is termed 'sociopath'.  But what of those who just made one mistake?  What about the criminally insane?  Most don't deserve to be punished for their genetic makeup, which they cannot possibly help.  What about those who have been framed, or if mistakes were made in the justice system?"  She trailed off, staring at her audience.  "If I seem to be ranting or...if I'm boring you, just inform me."

Near, with the slightest smile of a hunter, shook his head, and, with a nervous gulp, she continued.

"Innocent people end up in prison every day, but they attempt to make it so that they don't, even if that means some guilty people also walk free.  Innocents definitely do not deserve to die, and if we went to Kira's system, only the merest suspicion would be required.  It would be a little like the novel 1984-yet another forbidden book.  Everyone brainwashed, everyone the same, no individuality.  Robotic-like.  I found that book highly depressing, and don't want a future like that.  That is not what humans are.  At least...if they are, then I definitely want out, because if all humans are is sheep, then life is not worth living.  But we're not just sheep.  We're more-better."

Wammy kindly handed her a glass of water, and she downed it in three gulps before continuing.

"But we're not perfect, as Kira would have us believe.  Everyone makes mistakes, and if we kill everyone who made just one mistake no one would be left within fifteen years at the most...maybe twenty, if everyone concealed their mistakes out of fear.  No, my grandfather was just a glorified serial killer with a power man was not meant to have and delusions of grandeur.  I read a quote online somewhere, and it went like this... 'If you were to decide who lives and who dies, that would make you a monster.'  And I believe firmly that is true."

The obsidian eyes of her rescuer across from her were strangely eloquent, looking at her in admiration now.  She tried to stop the flush from spreading to her cheeks and ignore the compassion she saw there, despite how it warmed her heart.

"What is your place within this organization?" Near asked again.  It was beginning to sound like an interrogation, but she didn't mind.  "And how did you, as you say, get your hands on 'forbidden works'?"

A smile spread across her face, and obvious pride lit her purple eyes.  "I'll answer the second first.  I...taught myself how to hack the system.  And did, quite frequently.  Because of me, they change the codes often, but I can still probably get you in despite that.  I also taught myself to steal, and practiced until I was good enough I wouldn't get caught.  I was also tortured for sinning, but it was well worth it.  Like a fair number of teenagers who resort to crime, for me it was about rebelling, I guess."  Her eyes turned more serious.  "As for my position within the organization...as a granddaughter to Yagami, I am expected to make sure the line carries on and participate in many of the ceremonies and rituals, as well as the leadership of the organization." She snorted.  As if.  "However, I have two sisters and four brothers, so it's not as if they truly need me.  As long as I continue to be a nuisance, they'd probably kill me eventually, inadvertently through torture or on purpose.  Some of them are more cousins.  But they're called sisters and brothers as long as they're part of the line.  Sayu doesn't count, although one of her grandchildren decided to join of their own account and now is active as a missionary and angel of Kira."  At the startled stares, she corrected, "...as one of the legitimized assassins.  Who will kill those they deem to be unworthy of life, according to the Inner Circle.  They are aware that they will be judged and found wanting, and they're perfectly fine with that, if they die sinners in the service of Lord Kira.  They're bonkers.  Using a very anti-criminal stance to justify certain criminal activity."

When she stopped to take a breath again, no one spoke, so she continued.  "There are active members and sleeping members.  The active ones do things for the Order, such as the angels of Kira...assassin guild, the monks, the missionaries.  Others have merely professed their belief in Kira, been initiated into the Order, and been instructed to go about their daily lives as normal.  It's kinda hard to tell who could be a sleeper until they activate, and I think only the Believers-members of the Inner Circle-know the sleepers.  They used to have a paper copy, but I think that was destroyed too, and they now keep it in their heads.  Each Believer has memorized several hundred, I think.  And it might be recited every meeting, I'm not sure.  It's not like they ever let me in, although the rest of the Yagamis preside over the meeting."

T wandered away to make himself a sandwich (as spicy as he possibly could) and came back to find Mitsuko still talking about the Order of Kira.  In fact, she went on for several hours, until her voice nearly gave out and Matsuda persuaded his uncle to let the poor girl get some rest.  First, however, she hacked into the Order of Kira database to let Near continue to gather information about this threat both to the orphanage and to the world at large.

T, sandwich half eaten, was persuaded to show Mitsuko to her room.

 

Mitsuko felt better than she had in years.  She'd been around a group who had let her rant about her grandfather's evil as much as she wanted, and she had been able to warn them about the evil intent of the Order of Kira.  Of course, now she felt exhausted, and was stumbling after her rescuer, a man who was bent over despite the fact that he was her age.  He had long, almost silky black hair that stuck up all over the place and bounced every time he took a step, something she found far more hilarious than it should have been (she chalked it up to lack of sleep).

His t-shirt had a dragon sleeping in his treasury-a library-which she also found somewhat entertaining (but more because she agreed with the dragon that books were better than gold any day).  His jeans were far too long, but weren't loose, and he kept his hands jammed tightly in his pockets.

A thought occurred to her, and she stopped following completely.  Could this be...?

After a moment, he noticed that she wasn't behind him anymore and turned to look, dilated eyes confused and searching for her.  He finally found her, staring at her in some sort of awe.

"You're the grandson of L, aren't you?" she blurted, unable to contain her excitement.  He hesitated, then nodded.  No keeping secrets from a Yagami.

He wasn't expecting her to tackle-hug him, pulling him very close, all the while giggling like a mad thing.  "You're awesome!" she whispered in his ear, and when she finally pulled back, his face and ears were scarlet.

"Um...sorry.  But seriously, if the Order of Kira say that your grandfather was one of the greatest evils this world has ever known, and THEY'RE actually one of the greatest evils this world has ever known, then logically he was one of the greatest GOODS the world has ever known."  That chain of logic actually made sense, and not for the first time he found himself admiring the sharp mind.  She'd fit right in-if Uncle Near allowed her to stay, that is.

T Lawliet found himself hoping so.

 

Mitsuko winced as Wammy put salve on yet another half-healed wound.  She was uncomfortable having only a bra and a pair of panties to cover her modesty, but at least it was only Wammy actually looking carefully at her-mostly at her untreated wounds.  Near had insisted on a careful examination, and since Quillsh’s brother had been a doctor before his taking up various enterprises of his brother, the situation turned out neatly.  She’d never had anyone try to heal her.  After her punishments, her fate always lay in the hands of Lord Kira.

T was also in the room, and about as uncomfortable as she was.  He faced the wall, refusing to turn around or even to look, for which she was grateful.  In some ways, even as uncomfortable as she felt, she was glad he was there.  She was tense, and every touch of swab or bandage on her skin made her jump, her mind insisting that the Followers had found a new method of torture.  Keeping herself oriented in the present was a difficult task even for her mind.

He distracted her by conversation as best he could.  Like Wammy, he found her lack of knowledge on certain topics to be slightly disconcerting, but merely vowed he’d help change that situation shortly.

“When did you first start doubting what you’d been told?” he asked curiously around a thumb.

She sighed.  “I was seven.  We’d been allowed out into the city, to see how the sinners lived or something.  I don’t remember exactly.  My memory’s a bit…I think I may have suffered brain damage among other things.”

Wammy frowned.

“I do remember seeing a family.  An actual family that loved each other.  And they didn’t hit each other or anything.  I wondered why my family wasn’t like that, and then I wondered…well, you know.  Whether there was something wrong with me.  Why they didn’t want me.”

“Because Yagamis are idiots,” T stated matter of factly, drawing a slight giggle from her.

“If this is sin, to insult them, then I don’t care, because it’s kind of fun,” she admitted, receiving a shy smile in return.

 

 

T couldn’t help his grin of delight upon seeing the dress.

A purple, shimmering, opaque, curtain cascaded over Mitsuko’s form, flattering her petite frame and complimenting her eyes, which were filled with such joy upon seeing him that he felt the urge to dance right then and there (although he had absolutely no idea of how to do so).  “You look wonderful!” she breathed, such admiration and happiness in her voice that he began to feel slightly dizzy.

“I’m supposed to say that to you.  It’s more true,” he protested.  She shook her head vigorously.  “Oh, no.  No, you look better.  You clean up very nicely.  Now I guess I’m going to have to work harder to keep your attention.”

He glanced at her, confused.  How his own appearance would change anything was a matter he couldn’t fathom.

“You’re going to have girls coming after you all night!  Some of them are likely to be prettier than I am,” she teased, punching him lightly in the arm, unable to stop her own smile.

“Well…I have a hard time believing that second part to be true, since I believe there is only a thirteen percent chance that any girl more beautiful exists.  Secondly, I don’t really much care.  Your mind is as beautiful as your body, and without a woman to match wits with, I think I would avoid relationships entirely.”

She melted, staring up at him with an absolutely goofy smile.  “You are so sweet!” she whispered, getting up on the tips of her toes now that he was attempting to stand up straight and kissing him on the cheek.

Trying not to blush so brightly to be seen from space, he offered her his arm, and she accepted eagerly as they strode up to the doors, the perfect couple.  Well, apart from the fact that they looked like total opposites.

 

“Spawn of L!  So it was you who lured Lady Yagami into the world of sin!”

Furious as T was at this unnamed man for taking Mitsuko and hurting her, he couldn’t help a low laugh that burst forth.  He pulled her away from the intruder, stuck out his tongue, and began running, long legs carrying them away from danger.  “Why does he talk like he’s a Victorian era villain?”

His love looked up at him with a slight smile.  “They all do that.  Hence the idiocy.”  She began to laugh, but it turned into a gurgle following the cough of a weapon.  T looked at her in alarm, registering that she was still alive. 

If the shot had killed her, he would have torn the man apart.  He still might do so, just for hurting her.

She was leaning heavily on him.  Probably hit in the leg.

“Who was that?” he asked to distract her from the pain.

“Probably my fiancée,” she answered nonchalantly.

He blinked, his urge to hurt the man growing stronger with every minute that passed.  “What?” he asked, to be absolutely sure.

“He’s one of the more fanatical Followers of Kira.  Yagamis can marry whoever they want, as long as they’re a Believer.  They tend to marry the most faithful though.  So basically we get our pick of the morons.”  She winced and looked away.  “Actually, we could probably have anyone we wanted.  More than one.  Any of them would feel honored, even if the one in question wasn’t really cared about one way or another.”

T blinked and held her closer, supporting her with even more of his weight.  “That’s sad,” his gentle voice rippled over her, a ward against pain.

“I know,” she answered, hand on his shoulder squeezing, just slightly.  A thank you for what really mattered.

 

 

“The Shinigami Realm is a dull, dreary waste, empty, a dried husk of its former glory.  Don’t you all want meaning in your lives again?  Don’t you want to have a purpose instead of sitting around here, bored every day, too lazy even to come up with ways to amuse yourselves?”  (insert Shinigami name here)’s red eyes flicked around the hall of bones, causing quite a stir among the Shinigami.  Several could be heard whispering among themselves in spectral voices.

And one was laughing.

When the Shinigami King perceived that the Shinigami formerly known as Light Yagami was a threat to his power, he did the worst thing any kami could do.

He panicked.

He wrote down the name Light Yagami in his Life Note.  In the end, it would solve nothing, but he wanted to earn some breathing space to think.

The hall immediately turned silent as the youngest god of death disappeared slowly.  The smirk on his face, however, meant that in all probability the Shinigami King had not won, but merely postponed his defeat.

“Hyuk, hyuk…” the laughter broke the silence, and immediately those watching begun squabbling about bets they had made.

“Perhaps you will continue to make things interesting…” the amused Shinigami whispered to one who could not hear him.

 

Lilian Durbin looked up, her haunting blue eyes widening in shock.  Alarms had begun ringing.

Instantly, she turned them off so that she could think and turned to the containment tank.  Her eyes widened as she saw the body within twitch again.

His vitals had gone from nonexistent to the healthiest human she’d seen. Without a thought she threw the switches to allow the body to exit the tank when he was ready and fell to her knees.  She never thought that she would live to see this day, but always lived in hope, perfecting her training and purifying her body and mind.

She lowered her head and began to pray, feeling nervous quivers run up and down her spine.  It was rare indeed that any group was privileged enough to see their god in the flesh, let alone hear him speak or walk among them.  She only prayed she was worthy, but even if she was not, to be judged by her god was a privilege.

She gasped loudly at the dripping touch on her chin, electrifying her very soul, and glanced upward into pleased, dangerous red eyes.  “My Lord Kira,” she whispered submissively.

“Let’s get out of here.  I need to think.  You will inform me of everything that has happened since I left.  I can’t watch everything all of the time.”  He purred those words into her ear, virtually setting her whole body on fire.

“I live to serve,” she whispered back, receiving a pleased smile.

 

T realized that Mitsuko was no longer behind him and half turned to see what was wrong.

His muscles instantly tensed.  She had been gagged, but was still fighting a woman dressed like a typical secretary fiercely.  The woman pulled out a syringe and emptied its contents professionally into a flailing arm, and the struggles slowed as the drug took effect.

His lips moved into a silent snarl as he ran, arms swinging like pendulums.  He couldn’t be too late.

How did she get so far away anyway?

He felt his heart shudder in pain as the intelligent young girl went entirely limp, and a van pulled up, door swinging open.  The evil secretary pulled the limp body in through the door.

He put on a burst of speed, but knew it would be too late.  That thought alone made his body ache with a non-physical pain.

Eyes tinted slightly red and light brown hair met his gaze as he memorized the appearance of her male kidnapper.   At least one other person had to be involved-the driver.  An amused, cruel smirk mocked his agony and fear, and then the door swung shut and he was breathing in the exhaust from the vehicle, trying desperately to catch up as they took one of the only people he had ever cared about.

 

Matsuda jumped as a very dusty T flung himself into the room, interrupting the conversation.  With damp cheeks, he pointed a shaking, accusatory finger at his uncle and stated with perfect anger, “They took her.”

Near sighed, still wrapping blonde hair around his finger.  Sometimes, his adopted nephew could be so overly dramatic.  All teenagers-most teenagers, he amended-seemed to have this disconcerting inability to control their emotions.  They reminded him unflatteringly of Mello.  T had seemed fairly intelligent until the female Yagami came into the picture, and then his reason seemed to have been thrown out the window and replaced with far too many hormones.  Naturally, he’d be expected to help find her, when more important things had to be dropped.

The story and the tears poured forth, in a nonsensical manner, and the New L frowned again.  If he expected them to be any help at all, even if they’d agree to divert important resources to this personal project, he’d do better to explain it all in a calm, rational fashion.  That wasn’t going to happen, however.

As he described the kidnappers, Matsuda gasped.  Near turned to look at him with one of his unnerving stares, the equivalent of a glare, and he cast his eyes to the floor, a hint of his especially shy nature making one of its regular appearances.

“What is it, Matsuda?” Wammy asked, interested.  As if what the man had to say wasn’t painfully obvious.

“It…sounds like Raito,” he whispered, hands beginning to tremble slightly, memory probably flashing back to the warehouse, wanting desperately to pull that trigger.

“Of course it does.  It was probably a Yagami,” Near interrupted, casting his eyes skyward and pushing a small toy car along the desktop absentmindedly.  “The Followers of Kira were the only likely suspects in any case.”

Sometimes it was unfortunate that no democracy was in place at the headquarters.  Whatever the New L said, went.  So while both Matsuda and Wammy watched T’s heart break again as he told his story, tears dripping down his cheeks, begging his uncle to intervene, and believed that anyone who didn’t react with even the slightest compassion in such a circumstance was probably heartless and barely human, they had no power to make Near change his mind.

“Fine,” T spat out, staring at the pale, unsympathetic figure with absolute hatred.  “I’ll go get her myself.”  Near sighed.  His nephew wasn’t exactly employing his intelligence-but with Mitsuko involved, he rarely did.  The teenager’s hand was on the door knob when his uncle’s voice interrupted him.

“I cannot allow you to risk yourself in such a manner.  You are far too useful to this investigation.”

The young Lawliet turned slowly, shaking in fury.  Even his uncle felt a twinge of fear at the sight.  “Just try and stop me.  I assure you, it won’t be pretty.”

Ordinarily, Near would have tried anyway knowing it was a futile gesture.  Still, he had to reiterate that there were rules and he wouldn’t just change them out of emotion.  Only logic should have the power to change such rules.

He found he couldn’t move to stop the enraged T, merely watching his exit with interest.

Matsuda muttered, “‘You could at least pretend you have a heart.’”

 

“T!” The scream came as soon as the door had been opened.  His gaze turned murderous when he spied the kidnapper.  Mitsuko tried to run to him, but ruthless hands held her back, almost strangling her.

“Let. Her. Go.” T’s eyes promised nothing but destruction to the man if he did not immediately comply with the request.

The man’s eyes met his, and a shiver ran through the kidnapper’s frame.  “L…?” he wondered out loud, the slightest trace of fear in that single letter.  After a moment, the man relaxed, even smiling in a way that made Lawliet want to bash his skull into the dust until it was so mingled that none could tell the two apart.  “L had a child?...” he inquired, finding something very amusing in that statement.

“Let her go.”  The idiot grinning in front of him now would receive no third chance.

“I don’t think so.  I’d hate to kill you-such loyalty is admirable.”  Mitsuko stiffened, and T’s heart ached at the fear in her violet eyes.  She cared!  …but that was painful.

At her reaction, though, the man suddenly turned his attention on her.  “You…love this man?”  For the first time, he showed the slightest care about the wishes of others.  The raven-haired intruder was getting a lot of conflicting signals about the situation, and didn’t have a clue of how to react.  I wish Uncle Near had listened to me for once…

Harsh, unearthly, highly disturbing laughter broke through his concentration.  “That is highly ironic.”

Sudden realization like the coming of the dawn cut through T’s confusion.  Who would find the grandchildren of two mortal enemies falling in love amusing, ironic?  Who would laugh like that, and have eyes tinted slightly red?  “Kira,” he hissed.

The killer half-bowed, smiling crazily.  “If you hurt her, I will rip your lungs out.”

Like a protective father.  A crazy, murderous protective father, the scary kind that would take out a shotgun…only ten times worse.  He didn’t need conventional weapons.

“Likewise,” T shot back, eyes unwavering.  In matters of Mitsuko’s safety, he wasn’t willing to compromise.  He’d drawn a line in concrete and steel that no one could cross.

More laughter-the laughter of a madman, or something very much not human.  “I think we understand each other.”  Mitsuko was spun across the room to fall safely into Lawliet’s comforting arms.  Those wide eyes blinked, once.

 

Near actually was planning on moving on it.  He just didn’t want T involved.  He & others break in, and there’s a bit of a standoff.

“It would be advantageous for us to work together.  There is one thing that we can all agree on.  These so-called Followers of Kira are nothing more than a monstrosity that needs to be destroyed.”

Near thought about that for a moment, eyes unblinking, then replied, “Agreed.”

 

“The worst punishment comes from oneself.”

“Out of all of my family, you would be the most worthy to take on the title.  At least you have some backbone.”