[FFML] [FIC][DEATH NOTE AU] Silent Partner, Unfinished Business Ch. 02

[Paul Durant]

    I am not Brian Azzarello, author of 100 Bullets, nor am I Tsugumi
Ohba, author of Death Note.


                               * * * * * * *


    SILENT PARTNER, UNFINISHED BUSINESS:


    FOLIE A DEUX


                               * * * * * * *


    //GOOD IDEA?// The masked guard read off my note into a hidden
microphone, and I stared into the camera set up on the desk of the
security office. My face made my tone clear, that I doubted this. Two
guards were here, waiting to relieve me of my gun and any sharp objects I
was carrying, so they could take me down the hallway into Misa Amane's
room.


    "If I weren't," Ryuzaki responded, through the speaker, "I would
not ask you to do it. As I said, she is most likely not the second Kira.
And she is physically restrained and blindfolded at all times. Should she
somehow lift them, and should she somehow be Kira, you are the one person
on this planet who she might not be able to kill."


    The monitor here was much higher-quality than the one in the hotel
room, and full color; I could see what was inside the room perfectly. A
young woman with medium-length blonde hair, becoming more unkempt as it
grew. Arms bound tight in a white straitjacket, a series of leather straps
holding her to a stretcher that had been turned upright and bolted to the
floor, forcing her into a standing position. A thick metal ring wrapped
around her eyes, blindfolding her. Her bare ankles were shackled to the
rails at the bottom, and an IV bag hung from each side, hooked to a
computer control. I guessed one was to feed her, and the other was to
sedate her when they needed to refill, empty, remove or alter some other
part of the rig. Ryuzaki was either very afraid of her, very into S&M, or
both.


    //SEE RESTRAIN. I HERE NOT ROOM?//


    "You are here and not in the hotel room because I intend to
exploit your disability," he said, very matter-of-factly.


    "Wow," chuckled the guard. "That L has a hell of a way with
people, don't he?"


    "As I said, I believe Misa needs to be emotionally engaged, rather
than interrogated. I don't have the skill to do this adequately; as
evidence, I offer the fact that I just said I wanted to exploit your
disability. You have been tangibly and demonstrably harmed by Kira in a
way that she can perceive without looking at you. She will have to take a
more active role in the communication in order to simply know what you are
saying, increasing her stake in it. You will be a human in the room, not a
voice from a speaker, and she will be unable to find out that you are
acting, because you are not."


    If the brain-damaged lady yelled at her, she'd feel bad and
confess? //BRAIN BAD YELL = CONFESS FEEL?//


    "You can yell at her if you think it would make her feel bad, but
I think we'd have far better results if you were to take a more friendly
approach." He heard me -- and the guards -- react, and added, "But you can
choose what to do based on your own assessment of the situation. I will
trust your judgment."


    I guess I could try. If he was certain Misa knew something she was
not telling us. //MISA HIDE KIRA. KNOW?//


    "I know that if she does, this is the only way we will find out."


    I sighed. //MISA KILL I. HURT. BAD.// I'd rather not die, but if
it would happen... at least we'd know for sure. And if we knew she was
Kira, I wanted her to suffer. I wanted molten iron Spanish Inquisition
torture.


    "If she is Kira, and you aren't immune, and she escapes restraints
or has other powers, and she does kill you, she will spend every remaining
second of her life praying for the release of death," he said in the flat
tone one usually uses to order lunch. "But I ask you not to think about
that, as she is most likely not Kira." I nodded and slipped off my jacket
so I could remove my gun.


    After they relieved me of my weapon, they gave me a folding chair
and escorted me to the door of Misa Amane's holding cell. I brought the
purple squish ball with me, squeezing it was becoming more of a nervous
tic than part of a therapy regimen. The cylindrical metal door sealed
behind me, and Misa turned toward the sound. "What is it? Who's there?"


    L's computer-distorted voice came out of the speakers he'd set up.
"Misa, you have a visitor. This woman would like to talk to you for a
short while... if that's all right."


    "What, you've invited your otaku friends over for more of the
Misamisa bondage-interrogation fantasy?"


    I unfolded the chair and took a set in front of Misa, carefully
positioning myself so as not to block the camera's line of sight. "She
isn't a stalker, Misa. Her name is Naomi and she merely wants to have a
conversation with you."


    Misa didn't react to the name, but then again she didn't need a
name and probably wouldn't have tried too hard to get it. "Hello... Misa."


    "Uh, hello," she chuckled nervously, "Miss Naomi. Uh... Lovely
weather, isn't it?"


    "No." I fidgeted in my seat, already feeling frustrated with how
little I could speak. "Uhhh... Kira?"


    "Look, I told you before, I'm not Kira! You're taping this, right?
Can't you just play the tape back instead of asking me again?"


    "No! Er, uh, like, uh, and, Kira?"


    "Why are you talking like that, lady?" She put on a face that was
half-sneer, half-pout. "Are you retarded or something?"


    "Hurt, uh, hurt, brain."


    "So... I'm guessing that's a yes?" She sniggered, clearly uneven.


    "No!" I growled, stomped my foot, and squeezed my purple ball. I
sure as hell sounded and felt retarded, didn't I? "T... Talk hurt."


    "So, like, you just talk funny?" I grunted the affirmative, glad
my brain didn't count that as 'speech'. "But you're not retarded. Uh...
all right?" She sounded more nervous and off-base than before, which was
exactly what Ryuzaki wanted, but I felt pretty off-base myself. Maybe
Ryuzaki wanted that too. "And, uh, you think I'm like Kira?"


    I did, in that you didn't care about other people's lives, but
that wasn't what I wanted to ask. "LIKE... like, like, uh, Kira." God.
Standing in front of Kira's biggest fan, I could think of a thousand
different biting, acerbic things to say, snappy and withering remarks
right out of a Tarantino movie. And I could only stammer and drunkenly
blunder through a three-word sentence, leaving her wondering what the hell
I was trying to say.


    "Oh. Ohhh, you want to know why I like Kira." I grunted in the
affirmative again. She was already being slightly more cooperative and
engaged, Ryuzaki was right about that too. "Well, I told your friend
before, Mrs. Stalker. Kira killed the man who murdered my parents when he
was going to get away with it. He's my hero! He's keeping the world safe
from evil and criminals."


    My face turned red and my hands shook. How could she say something
like that? God, didn't she know all the suffering Kira had caused? "All?"


    "Well, he's not keeping the criminals very safe." She giggled and
I wanted to punch her teeth out the back of her throat.


    "Need... uh, ah, kill?"


    "What kind of an awful question is that?" She shook around in her
restraints a little. "Of course he needed to die! He murdered my parents!"


    You know what? If you were there, and you KNEW it was him, maybe
he did deserve to die. That doesn't mean anyone who kills him is a saint.
"Ummm... Other?"


    "No, I don't think he killed anyone else, but aren't my parents
enough? He was gonna do it again!" I growled in frustration. "Oh, oh, oh,
you mean if all the other criminals deserved it. Well they had to, right?
Otherwise they wouldn't be criminals."


    "Frame?" Tears started to roll down my cheeks, but I held back on
the sobs. How could she be so callous? And why couldn't I just SAY what I
wanted to say?


    "You know, everyone always says that on TV and stuff, and it's
just so stupid!" She stomped her foot by about a centimeter. "Everyone
knows these people are guilty, right? It's always that they get the
evidence thrown out or the witnesses get killed or whatever, but we KNOW
they're all guilty. And they're going to get away with it unless someone
stops them, right? Kira's just doing what everyone wishes they could do,
and you can't tell me that the whole world wants something that's wrong!"


    "Me?"


    "Probably you too, right? You can't tell me there's never been
anyone who hurt you and got away with it, who you wished there was some
way to get back at!"


    I couldn't, and not because of the brain injury. And the answer I
gave her wasn't the complete one. I grunted an affirmative noise. "Kira!
Kira... uhh, Raye."


    "Who's Raye?" She asked like she was being walked into a trap.


    Of course you didn't know about Raye. You kept your eyes closed to
avoid seeing anything that would make Kira look evil. "Fiancé. And, and,
and... Innocent."


    "He killed your fiancé?" I couldn't see her eyes, but by the way
she shifted I knew she was glancing off to the side in discomfort. "Was
he... Was he trying to stop Kira?"


    "Uh-huh."


    "Oh, shit. Did he mess up your brain, too?"


    "Uh-huh." He violated me. He raped my entire identity, Misa Amane.
Uh-huh. He messed up my brain.


    "Wow." I knew Ryuzaki had asked her before about if it was
justified to kill the police, and she'd said yes, since they were
interfering with Kira's work. But now that I was here in the room, she
just couldn't say it. "I'm, uh, I'm really sorry... that happened."


    I wanted to punch her. I wanted to get up and break her kneecaps
and scream in her face. But... I saw the way she moved her head, that she
couldn't meet my gaze even when she couldn't look at me at all. I'd got to
her, when she realized 'the reason this person is so hard to communicate
with is because Kira inflicted that on her' it made her squirm around
inside. And she recomposed herself, looked forward and tried to look
unaffected but I saw her lip was quivering just slightly. She was no
sociopath, this wasn't an act.


    "It... It doesn't matter, okay! I told you everything I know! I
told you I'M NOT KIRA!"


    I hated her when I heard those horrible things fall out of her
mouth. But at the same time I knew exactly how she felt. There but for the
grace of God... I could have been her, if I had a few less years and a lot
less sense. The horrible talk about Kira was a cover-up. But why the hell
did I care why she did it, she was cheerleading for someone who murdered
the man I loved! I sat there, seething, warring with myself over how to
feel, until I heard L's voice saying "I believe that will be enough, miss
Naomi."


    They put me through a few behavioral tests before they gave me the
gun back, to make sure I wasn't under Kira's control from being in there.
If I was, they reasoned, I wouldn't be able to follow complex commands
that weren't related to my own death. I checked out, and they let me at
the safe I'd placed my weapon and bag in.


    I walked out feeling exploited.Ryuzaki had said beforehand that
was his intent, but I felt no less awful. I was there to be a walking sob
story, a figure of pity, someone so pathetic and broken even the heartless
killer would feel sorry for her.


    Maybe Ryuzaki got what he needed out of her, maybe not. Who knows
what tiny cues Ryuzaki searches for. I don't think Ryuzaki knows what I
got out of her, though.


                               * L I G H T *


    When Ryuzaki mentioned that Naomi Misora would need an assistant,
I saw an opportunity, and I jumped on it. Ryuzaki had given her one of
those 'BlackBerry' phone-organizer-computer things, and a laptop for when
she could sit down and use both hands. Both had the same text-to-speech
program installed on them that was easier to use in groups than writing,
but she was still physically crippled and communicating was laborious. So,
to speed up the process of her retracing her footsteps in the days between
Raye Penber's death and her suicide attempt, she would need a personal
assistant. And since Watari was busy, they'd need a member of the
investigation to accompany her.


    I volunteered instantly and Ryuzaki, the overconfident fool,
accepted. I could see it in his eyes, his enormous pupils showed perfectly
what he was thinking. He thought this was a game of chicken, that I would
come close to her to show I wasn't afraid, and back away or try to kill
her if I thought her memory was returning. Watari wasn't too busy to sit
somewhere across the street with a scoped rifle ready to blow my guts out
if I did anything unusual. But he didn't know what he was looking for, did
he?


    We were sitting on a table by the street, me nibbling a biscotti
while she scrutinized a map of Tokyo she'd already written a spiderweb of
paths and directions on, cross-checking with several photocopied credit
card receipts. She'd eaten at this coffee shop several times during her
stay, but nobody remembered her acting unusual. She wrote an 'O' on the
map where the shop stood, sighed, and took a sip of her drink -- orange
juice, oddly enough.


    "So," I asked, nonchalant but of course ever-helpful. "Do you
think we should track down any employees who got fired? Maybe one of them
saw you, and their information would have to be on file for taxes."


    She shook her head and typed out a response, the program read it
back in a voice that was like Megumi Hayashibara trying to impersonate
Stephen Hawking. //NOT MEMORY I. MEMORY FIRE.//


    "You're probably right. And it's better get through all of this as
soon as we could, so we could know where to focus in on." I took another
bite, and wished I'd bought a drink. "So where did you, I mean, where do
we go next? We have to be near the end, right?"


    //CLOSE.// She tapped the symbol of a subway station with her
pencil. //HERE. 2HR. NO CC.//


    "No credit cards. Kasumigaseki?" She nodded. "You think you were
going to police headquarters."


    //LAST I COME. KIRA LEAVE.//


    I put my hand on hers, of course, I was so very reassuring. "Just
let me know if you need something else, then. I'll be ready for it when
you are."


                               * N A O M I *


    "I'm sorry," the man behind the counter said, "But we don't have a
sign-in record of this woman. I can't make records just appear out of thin
air!" I had asked him the question, but Light was the one who could talk
like a human being, so Light was the one the man was carrying on the
conversation with.


    //THANK.// The man looked uncomfortable as I typed out my response
on my phone, but my new 'assistant' Light didn't try to cut me off and
respond for me.


    Light put his arm around my shoulder as he walked, and I hobbled,
out of the police building. I guess I'd been in America too long because I
couldn't recall if that level of intimacy was supposed to be offensive or
not. "So, maybe this means you didn't get here, or you got here but not
long enough to talk to anyone. Kira could have been nearby... who knows,
maybe a walk around will jog your memory, if it happened close to here."


    I nodded, having put my phone away in my pocket to pull out my
purple squish ball. I didn't really feel like talking anyway. He let go
and let me limp on ahead on my own, leaning on my crutch instead of
another person, while he walked alongside me with his hands in his
pockets, silently counting the trees as we passed them. Ryuzaki had told
me to keep an eye on him, of course, even if I shouldn't blow his brains
out he was slightly more likely to be Kira than anyone else. But only ever
so slightly. So I was watching him... he seemed nice, understanding, and
supportive, but he seemed like something else too, something I couldn't
pin down. But he was keeping me company, and didn't seem impatient while I
walked or tried to finish a sentence, and I took what I could get.


    "You know, my father's been on the investigation team since the
beginning, but, he doesn't really talk about the work. I have to admit,
I'd been thinking a lot about the Kira case for a long time, but couldn't
really talk to anyone about it." He chuckled. "Everybody has their own
theories about what's going on, right?"


    "Uh-huh."


    "I mean, it's one thing to talk about Kira controlling his
victims, or how he does, in the abstract sense, like you're putting
together the pieces of a puzzle. But to see you here, someone it's really
happened to? I feel guilty for ever thinking of it like that. I'm glad you
could join the Kira Special Investigative Team to... I'm sorry, I'm
probably making you uncomfortable, aren't I?"


    "S... some."


    We reached the corner and looked around. "Anything looking
familiar?" I shook my head. "Maybe you were on the other side of the
building." He glanced at the crutch. "You want to walk to the other side?"
I nodded. My arm was getting sore but I'd feel even worse if I let that
stop me.


    "So..." he said after a time, "Somebody told me you worked with
Ryuzaki before. In America, when you were with the FBI."


    I pulled out my pad of paper and stopped walking, he waited
patiently for my response. Though the phone was useful, I still liked to
write out what I said when it was just to one other person. My handwriting
was more 'me' than a robotic synthesized voice. //NOT W/FBI. LABB KILLER//


    "I heard, what was it, the 'Beyond Birthday' killer? That's a
pretty strange name."


    I sighed. //I NOT ABOUT TALK.// The violence was brutal and
senseless and the killer was literally hiding in plain sight the entire
time, and he got me pontificating about lowercase letters like I was Adam
West talking about the Riddler's latest crime. It sure wasn't something to
brag about. I swore off coffee for life, I was an orange juice girl now,
just because drinking coffee reminded me of him dumping cubes of sugar in
his Starbucks cup until it became viscous brown sludge. And that reminded
me of his existence. And that reminded me of how I should have caught him
instead of being duped by him.


    "Oh, okay, I didn't know it was sensitive." He ran his hand
through his hair. "Just, you know, most people don't even get to talk to
L." He paused. "Oh. Do you think that maybe there wasn't a sign-in record
for you because you gave him a fake name, and you don't remember?"


    //FAKE NAME. SAME.//


    "Oh, right, you showed him that Shoko Maki ID, because that's who
you were going as before, right? That's probably pretty smart to come here
using a fake name. You're a cut above me, at least."


    //NOT ENOUGH.// I pointed at the crutch.


    He hissed through his teeth and fell back a few steps, probably to
avoid putting his foot in his mouth again. He was so earnest, and it was
probably nervousness more than anything else, but it was almost as if he
had a list of everything that would irritate or depress me and he was
going through all of them.


    After a little while he called out to me. "Naomi, wait." I turned
around, and for some reason he was looking at his watch. "There's
something else I have to tell you."


    "Huh?"


    "I'm..." He looked up from the watch face and I thought I saw the
hint of a smile, probably holding back nervous laughter. "...sorry. For
what I said earlier, about it being safer for you to go back to the US. I
really... I really respect that you could go through something like that,
and yet come back here and face Kira again. It takes a lot of courage."


    //FEAR NOT MATTER. KIRA DIE.// We stared at each other for a few
awkward seconds before I wrote a followup note. //THANK, LIGHT.//


    There was something... Something here. Something had happened. He
walked me all over, back and forth. I knew... I remembered something. I
feel like I talked to someone outside headquarters here. I feel like we
walked, back and forth, like this. Only it was snowing. What were we
talking about? What was... Was that person Kira? Did they mark me for
Kira? Who were they? I stopped in the street, holding my head, trying to
concentrate. Yes. Yes, I had a conversation with someone. It was here.
There was nothing after it. What did they look like?


    I concentrated as hard as I could.


    I couldn't remember a word of what had been spoken. Someone was
here, and they tried to stop me from leaving...


    It was Light. Light Yagami was here. He met me here, in the snow,
before New Year's. He stopped me from going to the police. He was looking
at his watch and saying something. Him, all along. I almost pulled out my
gun and shot him in the gut. Not to kill him, but to stop him from
escaping when he realized he'd been made. And to make him suffer.


    But no. It didn't fit. It didn't make sense. Why would he be
standing here in three inches of snow, wearing a white button-up with
short sleeves and brown loafers? Why would he wear an identical outfit to
come assist me now? The neurologist warned me about this. After amnesia,
your memory pastes over holes with whatever it had available. I remembered
the mysterious conversation I was having right now. I didn't remember
anything.


                               * N A O M I *


    I had my own bedroom, in the opulent hotel room Ryuzaki was using
for a meeting room. He said he didn't want to walk in on me naked. I don't
think he realized how often he did that anyway. I wore clothes, of course,
I wore a lot of them. Dark pants, long sleeves, gloves, motorcycle jacket,
even inside. The only skin showing was my face and believe me if it had
been socially acceptable to walk around in a ski mask I would have. But I
wasn't naked when I went without clothes, I was naked when I went without
my gun. I was vulnerable, exposed, without the now-familiar weight just
underneath my armpit. How did I ever, ever think I could walk around
without one of these?


    Misa Amane was blindfolded, but when I went into her holding cell
unarmed, I felt like I was showing her my naked body, that she could see
the ghost-pale flesh on my thighs and stomach, skin I hadn't allowed to
see the sun in months. And scars, a tapestry of them, a record of what had
been done to me written in my flesh. Wide and deep ones from the initial
injuries, for the angry, bold words like 'MURDER' and 'BETRAYED' and
'ALONE'. And the slim dainty ones from the innumerable surgeries afterward
to put me back together, linking the others together, invisible
conjunctions and prepositions like I couldn't use any more.


    L thought I was reluctant to speak to Misa again because of her
stated love for Kira, but that was only part of it. I couldn't go in there
armed, lest she get the gun away from me or put some horrible power on me
and force me to use it. And I didn't want to be naked in front of her.


    But, I ended up having to be. Until further notice or further
evidence, my job was Misa Amane Specialist.  I did, at least, get to bring
in the laptop to speak with; I guess the initial pity had been
established. The other advantage was that she'd have much less an idea how
I was responding emotionally to anything. Ryuzaki had specifically told me
not to assume she was lying, but I figured I'd make it easier for him to
figure out if she was.


    "Naomi has come to speak with you again, Misa." Ryuzaki paused
while I sat down in the folding chair and opened up the laptop. "Please,
be polite."


    "Uh... Hi again, Miss Naomi." Her cheer was obviously fake; the
sarcasm that motivated it was slightly less obvious and no less fake.


    "Hello... hello, hello... Misa." I inhaled deeply and started
typing. //THINK LAST SPEAK TIME?//


    "...What's with the robot voice? Is that the stalker guy?"


    //NO. NAOMI. BRING COMPUTER TYPE ANSWER. EASY.//


    "Easy, like, easier? Easier for you to write or easier for me to
understand?" She moped a bit. "Either way doesn't seem like much."


    //FRUSTRATE. KNOW WANT SAY. HEAR NORMAL. WORD NOT COME. BODY NOT.
I CRY TRY.// As though it were a secret confession of weakness but read by
an emotionless robot voice. It was true, it often did make me cry, but it
wasn't a secret. The pamphlet they gave me for my co-workers to read said
it was very common for people with my condition to cry when we had
difficulty expressing, and that this was nothing for anybody to be ashamed
of and part of the condition. I barely spent time with the other
investigators and they'd seen me cry. I felt more ashamed that I couldn't
talk than I did about crying, but there was no way to cover up either,
they were no secret.


    "You... You're frustrated. You know what you want to say, and you
can hear it, but you can't make the words come, and it makes you cry,
right? That... it sounds really scary." She shook her head slightly.
"Bu-but I'm really scared too. I can't see, and I can't move, and I don't
know where I am, talking is the only thing I can do! If you know how that
feels, you wouldn't want to put someone else through that, would you?"


    //NOT CHOOSE.//


    "You can choose for me..." She sniffled. "You could tell Mr.
Stalker to let me go..."


    Again with the 'stalker' conceit. I wasn't going down that road
again, not just yet. Something else she said was worrying me.
//STRUGGLE.// I implored.


    "It is a struggle! If you know it's a struggled, you know I can't
do it alone!" she pleaded.


    No, damn it! //STRUGGLE YOU.//


    "Oh... Okay, if you can do it alone, maybe I am the only one
struggling! But I still don't deserve this!"


    Agh, god damn it! What was... how do I say... //WIGGLE.//


    "Wiggle?" She was just confused now. "Wha... Like struggle, as in
struggle against my restraints, wiggling around? Is this what Mr Stalker
gets off to?"


    "No!" Argh! //NOT MOVE MUSCLE WEAK. ATROPHY. I ATROPHY.//


    "Oh. Oh, okay? You want me... to wiggle in my restraints... so I
can exercise my muscles... and they won't atrophy. Because you atrophied.
When you were in the hospital for the brain thing?" Misa started to writhe
uncoordinatedly in her straitjacket. "I mean... That's probably a good
idea, Miss Naomi. I was twisting around before but I gave up. Does this
mean you're thinking about letting me go, now?"


    Ryuzaki's voice came over the loudspeaker. "Miss Amane's medical
needs are already being taken care of, Naomi. She is under the care of my
physicians, and her vitals are being monitored. Her prescriptions are even
continued and included in her IV drip: 50 mg of lithium carbonate per day,
50,000 IU of vitamin D per week, and a standard 28-day course of ortho
tri-cyclen."


    Misa blushed scarlet. "I'm... I'm not crazy! I just needed
something to even me off after Mom and Dad died. And, and I'm not having
sex, either!" She turned away. "I just get cramps, that's all."


    I hoped Ryuzaki could see me glowering at the camera. Him and Misa
could definitely hear my disapproving grunts. Her prescription history was
not something he needed to reveal. I don't know if it made it worse that
he wasn't even trying to humiliate her.


    "Ahem. Yes. Well." I hope he realized that he went over the line.
"In any case, her limbs are already manually manipulated whenever she's
drugged, to prevent atrophy." I pointed at myself while looking at the
hidden camera, then to my arm. "Hmm... that's probably a fair point. If
miss Amane would prefer, unrelated to our investigation, I can set regular
reminders for her to engage in physical activity."


    "Great. Now my stalker gave me a wiggle alarm. That's just
phenomenal," she grumbled to herself, but she smiled just at the end.


    I opened another window and got ready for some copy and pasting.
//GOOD. COMPLETE. TALK KIRA FEEL.//


    "What, talk about my feelings or yours? Because I already told you
what important things he's doing and... and, you don't really agree. On
that."


    Control-V. Text to speech. //ALPHONSE ELLIS WAS A BLACK MAN WHO
CAME TO TOKYO TO TEACH THE FRENCH LANGUAGE. ONE OF HIS STUDENTS WAS A GIRL
WHO HAPPENED TO HAVE A BOYFRIEND HER PARENTS DIDN'T KNOW ABOUT. WHEN SHE
FOUND OUT SHE WAS PREGNANT, SHE PANICKED, AND SHE SAID HER BIG SCARY BLACK
TEACHER RAPED HER RATHER THAN ADMIT TO HER PARENTS SHE WAS PREVIOUS PAGE 5
OF 8 NEXT SEXUALLY ACTIVE. ONE WEEK AFTER THE ARREST SHE RECANTED HER
STORY BECAUSE IT WAS FULL OF HOLES AND MADE NO SENSE. BUT BY THAT TIME THE
POLICE HAD BEATEN A CONFESSION OUT OF HIM AND WERE GOING AHEAD WITH THE
CASE ANYWAY. TWO DAYS AFTER THE INDICTMENT, WHILE BOTH THEIR FAMILIES WERE
TRYING TO HAVE THE CASE DROPPED, ALPHONSE ELLIS DIED OF A MEDICALLY
INEXPLICABLE HEART ATTACK. HE LEFT A WIFE AND INFANT DAUGHTER.// I
silently vowed to check closer when copying from page breaks.


    "That's... It's sad, okay! But isn't Kira's fault, though!" she
said, probably to convince herself more than me. "That girl shouldn't have
lied like that when she knew Kira was killing criminals. She murdered that
man, not Kira."


    //RECANT. STOP. NOT STOP. GIRL JUMP TRAIN. BOYFRIEND HANG. NAME
SECRET.// I didn't want her thinking Kira killed the girl for being a
murderer.


    "She killed herself... Well, she had a guilty conscience! She knew
what she did was wrong! It's still her fault! If she, if she jumped in
front of a train, right, she knew the train was coming, the conductor
didn't kill her!"


    //NOT KIRA, UNDO MISTAKE. KIRA, THREE CORPSE. NOT JUSTICE.// She
had nothing to say to that. So I pasted something again for her: //PAGE 5
OF 8//.


    "You have more people. You're... going to tell me about your
boyfriend Raye now, huh?" A nearly pitch-perfect 'bratty princess' voice.
Nearly.


    //YES.//


    "Yeah, well, you might as well not bother!"


    She was trying to make me angry so she wouldn't have to engage me.
She was trying to seem angry so I wouldn't want to. I almost typed this
one out but decided it need to be in my voice as embarrassing as it might
be. "Uh... n-not?"


    "Not? Not, you mean, you mean WHY not? Because! You're just gonna,
just try to make me feel guilty, and, and I don't even know if any of this
is real anyway! Your boyfriend could be the stalker for all I know!"


    I shuddered. This one, I wanted her to hear my emotion, and I had
to control myself very, very well to neither slap her nor preface this
with a giant 'ummm'. Slapping her was what she wanted, and an 'ummm' would
make me look stupid. "...Horrible."


    "Yeah, yeah, well, uh," She was on the verge of tears and trying
to mask it as defiance. She knew what she'd said was awful and I could
tell it hurt her just to say it, not to mention hear how I responded. "It
doesn't matter, because, I, and it doesn't..." her voice fell to a
whisper. "Please don't. I'm sorry I said that. Please, please don't tell
me about him. I'm sure he was really nice. He was a real good guy."


    I thought about it. Long and hard. Misa wasn't one to break, not
if we wanted anything out of her. And her fear couldn't be more obvious.
She was afraid of two thoughts in her head eating each other and devouring
everything else in her head in the process. I would spare her. //OKAY.//
Time to change the subject. I didn't have many options. //LIGHT TALK.
TELL.//


    "Tell you, about Light? What about him? He's my boyfriend, and..."
She gasped. "You're not going to kill him so that nothing can stand
between you and us, are you Mr. Stalker? Because I will really, really,
really hate you forever if you did! It wouldn't work!"


    //LIGHT FINE. CASE NEED. TALK ENJOY.//


    "Light's fine... and you enjoy talking about the case? No? Light
is the investigation and you like talking to him. No. Light is fine, but,
oh, because you're investigating me you need to know about him, and maybe
I like talking about him? Did I get it?" I grunted in the affirmative.
"Well, I do, but... where do I start?"


    //MEET?//


    "Oh, we met in Aoyama, and even before I talked to him I knew he
was going to be The One..." Her voice became tranquil and dreamlike. She
wanted to move away from the last topic as soon as possible. "The way he
walked, the way he smiled, the way the light shone on his hair... It was
love at first sight. I knew he was strong, but tender, and nurturing and
smart and charming..."


    //FATHER.//


    "Yeah, I guess he did remind me of Dad. Not the way he looked or
how he spoke, but, there was just something about him that I knew would
make everything okay. He had the same look in his eyes."


    Head-over-heels in love and she's barely met the guy, and now
she's utterly convinced they are Meant To Be. I felt sorry for her, and
not just because I felt like if she ever got out of here she was headed
for a string of abusive relationships with men that superficially
resembled Daddy. Light must be a saint to not have dumped her by now...
//TALK LIGHT?//


    "I... I thought I was talking about Light?"


    Argh, god damn it, this again. Ryuzaki cut in to save my bacon.
"Naomi is asking if you want to talk to Light. If you give us more
information, we can arrange for you to have a mediated visit with him."


    "More-- I told you all I know already! I'm not Kira! I met Light
in Aoyama, and we hit it off immediately! I can't-- You'll really let me
talk to him? Like, not a joke?" How did she not have whiplash?


    //NOT JOKE. CONDITION. NOT SECRET.//


    "Your sound and his will be muffled, so you can hear each other's
voice and cadence but not the words you use," Ryuzaki said. I was not one
to deliver the details of something. "Your actual sentences will be passed
through an interpreter to destroy any coded content."


    "Interpreter? Someone who... It's you, isn't it, Naomi?" She
looked disappointed, but just as quickly, conciliatory. "I guess that's
actually pretty smart. Like, if he's worried about secret codes, you can't
deliver them even by accident, right? I'll still get to hear him and know
what he's saying, so I don't care!"


                               * N A O M I *


    I sat on the edge of my bed, holding a manila folder, turning it
over in my hands but not opening it. I'd been unable to open it all these
weeks. On the front of it, in block letters, were the words //EVIDENCE OF
BETRAYAL: KITAMURA KOREYOSHI, AS REGARDS THE MURDER OF RAYE PENBER.//
Walter Sorenson's file was still in the bag. If Graves was right, this
file was all the proof anyone would ever need that Kitamura Koreyoshi had
set my husband up to die.


    We'd walked down the street, Light and I, and as we passed people
going the other way they would take a look at me and swerve off to the
side, to give me more room. I knew that they were just getting out of my
way because they didn't want to bump into me and make me trip, but I
couldn't shake the feeling that they saw something on me, the mark of Kira
or something, and stayed away. Even Light himself had been acting weird,
like he didn't know how to talk to me, I'd made him uncomfortable and he
was flailing for topics of conversation but all he could think of was Kira
because that's all I reminded him of.


    I knew why I made him so uncomfortable. We say that life is
precious, and we look around at the world and all its people and we say
we're part of it. We like to tell ourselves our lives are not simply
precious, but durable; they are something we can hold on to, protect, and
preserve. And when they end we will be mourned and missed. Nobody ever
really stops to think about how wrong it all is. All those people you see
around each day, how many would notice or care if you stopped walking down
the same streets as them? I could count mine on my fingers, without using
the two that won't bend any more, and most of them would take only a
passing interest. How long would it take them to move on? We say we'd want
our loved ones to move on and be happy, but I think deep down part of us
wants to be mourned forever, because once the crying stops, then we are
truly dead.


    Kira doesn't think that life is precious, but few murderers do.
But what he forces us to confront is how fleeting it is, how easy it is
for anyone to take it from you. Most people don't just need a face and a
name, but if someone gets it in his mind to murder you, there's little you
can do to stop it. We eat three times a day and drink often, innumerable
chances for someone to slip us one of a number of horrific and
undetectable poisons. We spend one third of our lives asleep, unable to
respond to anything, giving someone ample opportunity to end our lives in
any way he desires. Someone you pass on the street could pull a gun and
shoot you in the back of the head. We don't think about that, we tell
ourselves we would be able to notice, or that we won't give someone a
reason to murder us, but we're wrong. When someone close to us is taken,
like Misa's parents, we aren't just shaken by the loss of a loved on,
we're shaken by the reminder of how fragile our own lives really are. And
here I am, a living reminder of how easy it is to have your life snatched
away from you, and that there's someone out there who can do it to anyone
he pleases. And in my hands, there may be proof of how easy it was for
Raye's life to be snatched away.


    I'd survived Kira only by sheer blind luck. Nothing I earned,
nothing I accomplished, had bought my way out of death. If Kira had told
someone else to jump off a cliff, they could have survived. And if Kira
told me to get a heart attack, I'd be dead. It could have been anyone in
my place, but it was me. I didn't feel privileged or chosen, this wasn't a
second chance. This was the tattered remains of my first chance, the parts
I was lucky enough for Kira not to tear off. And Raye wasn't as lucky as
me. Kira took all of his life in one go. And what if Kitamura Koreyoshi
and Walter Sorenson took it, too? It had been as easy to them as writing a
memo. They threw his life away not because of anything I did, but because
they wanted to get me back, and they thought my fiance's death at the
hands of a criminal would emotionally devastate me enough to drive me back
into the arms of the FBI. To them, they could throw away his life, and my
soul, because they thought their end was worth it. They were as bad as
Kira, they simply didn't have the body count.


    But just like me, their lives were fragile, and easy for someone
to take. And for a horrid second I had the thought, that if someone like
Kira could tell the world he was Justice and take so many lives, that I
could be Revenge and take three. I drove it out of my mind as soon as I
had it, and the idea that I'd ever think such a thing made my physically
ill.


    But so help me God I opened those folders up and read the contents
of both in one sitting.


                               * N A O M I *


    Once again I found myself in a folding chair staring at a
blindfolded, straitjacketed girl. My laptop was out, and the switch to
change from a male voice to a female one on the text to speech program was
rolled out. I had a wire going into my good ear, ready to relay what Light
said, and my left speaker channel was going back to L's room.


    "Light! Is it really you? Please, you have to get me out of here!
I'm gonna go crazy!"


    Female vocoder. //LIGHT REAL? ESCAPE I. INSANE SOON.//


    "You're -- don't go insane, okay! I'm talking to the Kira
Investigation Team. I'm trying to get you out. Your manager's trying to
get you out too. But you're not in danger, okay?"


    Male vocoder. //NOT INSANE. TALK KIRA TEAM. MANAGER HELP. MISA
SAFE.//


    "Oh Light, it is you! I knew you would keep me safe! I knew it!
You're always there to take care of me -- but this stalker isn't
listening! He thinks I'm Kira! Or I'm a mini-Kira! You know I'm not, tell
them!"


    Female vocoder. //LIGHT YES. LIGHT I SAFE OFTEN. THINK I KIRA.
CONTRADICT."


    "Cont-- oh, I contradict. Tell him otherwise. Got it. Okay. Misa,
you know I love you. I love your hair and your smile and your laugh, and
I'd, I'd do anything for you. And I'm trying as hard as I can." I didn't
know if he was telling the truth, I didn't know how hard he can try, but
he was bugging Ryuzaki more and more about it. "I want... I want to get
you out too. But this isn't a stalker. This is really the Kira
Investigation Team. They're worried you're Kira. If you were, that would
be really dangerous. So they have to be super careful. You can't just get
out right away."


    Male vocoder. //LOVE MISA MANY. TRY ESCAPE. NOT STALKER. L YES.
WORRY KIRA. ESCAPE BAD. WAIT.//


    Misa looked kind of skeptical, there was some scuffling in the
room, and Light's unfiltered voice came in to say "I did say that. She did
not make it up."


    "So you guys... really are L. And you really think I'm Kira. And
if you let Kira out, it would be really bad, so even though I'm not..."
Misa looked downtrodden.


    Female vocoder. //KIRA DANGER. NOT ESCAPE. NOT KIRA, NOT ESCAPE.//


    "Don't... Don't panic, Misa! You're going to get out! It's going
to take some time, but they're going to clear you, and we can see each
other again. You can cook me your special recipe again, and we'll all be
back to normal!


    L's message window popped up, giving me a word to copy and insert,
so the male vocoder dutifully read //NOT PANIC. MISA ESCAPE. NOT SOON.
MISA CLEAR. SEE I. COOK RIGATONI.//


    If Misa got some special meaning, or lack thereof, I didn't see
it. Who knows what Ryuzaki saw. "Oh, I love you, Light!"


    Female. //LOVE LIGHT.//


    "I love you too, Misa!"


    Male. //LOVE MISA.//


    This went on for an hour, with a bit of variation, although by the
end they were waiting five minutes to have their proclamations mutilated
and rebroadcast. They were definitely at the point of "You hang up!" "No,
you hang up!", but usually the phone isn't mentally exhausted by
transmitting messages. My brain was ready to ooze out of my ears. But I
kept focusing on my task, until Ryuzaki cut me off. If I wasn't thinking
of how to form words, I'd be thinking about the contents of those folders.


    But eventually, Light left. It was me and Misa, and I was
exhausted. I was shutting down the laptop when she spoke up. "So, uh...
Naomi. Light says he knows you. And you really are a cop?"


    It was not worth picking out the specifics of why that was wrong.
"Um... Uh. Um, yeah."


    "And that you guys are nice. I mean, if you weren't making that
one up." If her arms were free she would scratch the back of her head in
embarrassment. "Like you try hard. I think that was what you meant. So,
I... I said some mean things to you, miss Naomi. And I'm really sorry."


    I was too tired to be lied to. And she was too tired to lie, I
could tell. She meant it. "I, uh... I, I..." I snapped my fingers, why
didn't I know the next word? God, my brain was wrung out. "I know."


    "So, like... Are you doing any other Kira Investigating stuff?"
She was blushing. "I mean, Light can't talk anymore. But you and me, we
could... Could you just like stay and talk to me for a while? A bit? I'm,
it's scary in here, and the L guy is super creepy, and I missed talking to
someone so much, and... You can just talk, right? That doesn't break the
investigating rules?"


    "...A-about?" Ryuzaki wasn't telling me no. I guessed I had some
degree of discretion.


    "I don't know! About, about not Kira stuff. Almost everything in
the world has nothing to do with Kira, you know! We could talk about any
of those things."


    She could hear my elbows hit my knees as I sighed. "Tired. Tired
and, uhhh... Ummmm... Word."


    She frowned. "You're tired...  because words. Oh! Yeah, you typed
everything. But because of the brain thing it was actually super hard. It
probably really wore you out. But, but it let me talk with Light! And it
was a bit hard to understand sometimes but you mostly got the gist across
pretty good and, like, it was a pretty clever way to let us talk but not
pass messages! Thanks so much for doing that, I really appreciate it!"


    Yeah, thanks Misa. It actually did mean something that she
recognized what a pain it was. I would have loved to acknowledge it.
"Nnnngghhhh..."


    "Okay, okay, you don't have to say anything, all right! I just, I
wanna talk. You can do the yes grunts or no grunts if you want to say you
agree or disagree, just, like, just let me know you're listening." She was
quivering in her restraints. "Okay? Is that okay, Stalker L?"


    "If Naomi agrees." I made a conciliatory hand gesture and noise.


    "All right. Okay. I just have something I had to say." She took a
deep breath. "I don't get why they changed vampires around! They were cool
before!"


    I had no idea what she was talking about. My confused grunt let
her know I was listening.


    "I did some shoots, okay? Interior art for a book, by the guys who
make vampires. And I was, like, the sexy cool crazy kind of vampire! Had a
messed up seifuku with blood splattered on it and licked a bloody knife! I
came up with a whole character for it. But then the dude came back, and he
wants another shoot, only they changed the vampires! He told me they
didn't have sexy cool crazy vampires any more! They put me in a power suit
and had me look dominating! I mean, I pulled it off, I'm a professional,
but that, that bothered the hell out of me." She tried to look at me for
validation and realized there were two problems with that.


    "...Her name was Aiko. Her boyfriend was a werewolf and she was
actually very tender and sweet, but she hung out with vampires and
werewolves so she didn't really get that being stabbed was a problem for
normal people. And she was always laughing crazily and holding out her
knife and saying 'Let's PLAY!' and she had no idea that people thought it
was threatening, because she's crazy, right? And she got sprayed with
blood just because she was, like, a big fan of how cool blood was. So,
like, it was super tragic and Gothic. Right?"


    My options were this or stewing over the folders. I was engrossed.


                               * N A O M I *


    I shouldn't have been reading it out in public. I shouldn't have
been reading it at all, because by this point I'd read it enough to have
it memorized. Every time I read it I felt helpless, and scared, ashamed,
enraged. My skin flushed, my back tightened up, my knee hurt even though I
was putting no weight on it, I felt like screaming, flailing around,
bashing my skull against a wall. I was cold, I kept the thermostat in my
room at 80 and I still felt like I was standing in a snowstorm. It was
poisonous and I couldn't stop.


    //SORENSON: I don't even know what L thinks he's going to do.


    KOREYOSHI: He's L. I don't even think that he knows what he's
thinking. He wants me to send out my good men up against a guy who can
murder from a thousand miles away with your name and face? That's a waste.


    SORENSON: Yeah, and Mueller's jumping down all our asses to get in
on this, like FBI agents are some kind of supercops who can just fly over
and deflect bullets and kill-o-names and solve everything. The goddamn
Batman couldn't do anything with this Kira case.


    KOREYOSHI: What does Batman have to do with this?


    SORENSON: He used to be a detective before Tim Burton got to him.


    KOREYOSHI: How is that even [CROSSTALK] Look, it doesn't matter,
whatever! Question is, who are we going to have in Batman's place?


    SORENSON: Let me see here, we've got... Randall, Lam, Rosebaugh,
Christianson, Parthipan.


    KOREYOSHI: Oh, the "Olympia Five?" Nice.


    SORENSON: Yes, the FBI believes that people with the moral fiber
to testify against their own organization have the fortitude required to
really break the Kira case.


    KOREYOSHI: Ha!


    SORENSON: Then there's Roeder and Strain...


    KOREYOSHI: Yeah, having ties with the Triads could certainly be an
advantage in the case, I see that.


    SORENSON: Oh! Heins.


    KOREYOSHI: Who?


    SORENSON: The FBI believes that if mister Heins has the
interpersonal skills to talk his way into my wife's pants when I hadn't
received any in six months, he could be able to convince someone to reveal
who Kira was.


    KOREYOSHI: [LAUGHTER] Oh! Oh, I got a good one.


    SORENSON: Who?


    KOREYOSHI: Pember. Ray Pember.


    SORENSON: First off, I think you mean Ray Penber with an 'N', and
second, why do I want to get rid of him?


    KOREYOSHI: You don't, really, but you wanna get Misora back, don't
you?


    SORENSON: Ohhhh! [LAUGHTER] That is a good one. No marriage, no
kids, no reason for the gal that cracked the BB case to retire early.


    KOREYOSHI: [IMITATING DYING NOISES] [IMITATING OTHER MAN'S VOICE]
Naomi... with my last breath... I ask you to avenge me!


    SORENSON: [IMITATING WOMAN'S VOICE] Oh Ray! I swear that I'll hunt
down the criminals of the world in your memory!


    KOREYOSHI: That was Batman's motivation, right? It all goes back
to Batman for you. You need to broaden your horizons.


    SORENSON: Hey, maybe it's Kira's too. Maybe he saw his parents get
gunned down in an alley --


    KOREYOSHI: [INTERRUPTING] This is Japan. We have drive-by
shamings.


    SORENSON: Okay, maybe they had one of those, and he decided to
destroy the criminals of the world in response.


    KOREYOSHI: I don't really care what his motivation is. He keeps
cleaning the trash off the streets, he's okay in my book.


    SORENSON: Cleaning up our trash, too.


    KOREYOSHI: That, too.//


    It was the transcript, but I could hear the conversation if I
wanted. I had it on microcassette. It and others. And E-mails, too. All
documenting two men sending Raye Penber out to die as if he were a piece
in a board game. I had to stop reading after each page because I couldn't
see straight. And then when I closed my eyes, I could see nothing else. I
had to do something else. Anything else.


                               * N A O M I *


    Days had passed. She was clearly becoming more comfortable with
me.


    "I think I figured it out," Misa said. "Why you guys think I'm
Kira. It's not your fault. You heard of the Kuleshov effect, right?"


    I had not. My grunt conveyed this idea.


    "Oh, you haven't. And, and do you want me to explain it?" She
seemed surprised by this, even though she brought it up. Like it was odd
someone would not know what she did, but care to find out. I gave her the
go-ahead. "Okay! So, uh, like back when they first started making movies
and Soviet Russia was making The Battleship Pumpkin to show in every film
class, they were discovering, like, everything about how to edit movies.
And there was this actor Kuleshov who was, like, super handsome and
everyone loved him and made women swoon because swooning was what you did
back then, right?" It was more... Actually, was it more complicated than
that? I never really convinced myself it was. But I accepted her
explanation so far.


    "Okay so there's this director, and he makes a movie with
Kuleshov. And movies didn't have plots back then, right?" Misa said, but
by now wasn't waiting for responses. "So it's just Kuleshov looks at a
newborn baby! Kuleshov looks at a skull! Kuleshov looks at soup! Kuleshov
looks at a battleship! And everyone is like 'oh, oh my god, Kuleshov is so
cool, he's such a great actor, I wanna have all his babies, look at how
subtle his performance is, the baby makes him so happy, he's pining with
hunger for the soup, the skull makes him see his mortality,' right? But
the director tricked them. It's the same clip of Kuleshov every time, with
the same face. People, like, they see faces as being what they think they
should be, based on what's around them. And, you know, a lot of people
don't know about that, and that's why they overact, because they're like
'I gotta do SOMETHING to show the audience what I feel!' Right?"


    I think what she was alluding to could be explained much simpler
as confirmation bias, but it was an interesting anecdote. Most of us
relate things to our profession anyway. There was probably a "Something
Effect" for that too.


    "So, you know, the Kuleshov effect is an actress's best friend.
You gotta know when NOT to act, and let the audience do it for you." She
smiled, like she was proud of what she knew, had proven. "So that's what
happened to you guys, I think! You're looking for really subtle stuff, so,
so because there's Kira stuff near me, you're like 'Oh, that's how a Kira
person acts, that's a Kira face!' but I wasn't really emoting anything!
Right?"


    I didn't say anything for a bit.


    "You don't believe me, huh?"


    //MAYBE. STORY GOOD. KNOW GOOD.//


    "It was a good story? Really?" she asked. "I mean, I thought so
too. I went to acting classes, I took some film school courses. I care
about my work, you know? I think all this stuff is real interesting."


    "Uh... And, uh, and music?" I asked.


    "I mean, I recorded an album, but I'm not really a singer," she
replied. "It didn't sound very good. They did a bunch of producing stuff
to it to make my voice sound better, so that means I didn't sing very
well."


    Not what I was asking, but given no particular directive from
Ryuzaki, I figured I might as well. I had all my nostalgic college music
still, and maybe it did take me back a little bit to a happier time. Turn
The Radio Off, '96. Secondhand from Record Surplus on Santa Monica
Boulevard, where the song informed me the sun comes up over. Perfect place
for a girl fresh from the Land of the Rising Sun to browse what it means
to be a cool American and pick out what she liked to adopt as her
identity. Bought for the crazy cover. They sang too fast for me to
understand at first and I went through the liner notes and listened again
and again until I could pick out the words.


    "I don't know why I learned to play guitar, nobody's gonna know
who we are and I saaaaaay... I'm givin' up because: I know everything
sucks yeah, I know everything sucks whoa, I know everything sucks, and
this is gonna be the last time you hear me complain!"


    "Ooh, music? I get music?" Misa asked. "I don't... can I not hear
music in Japanese because of Kira stuff?" And she stopped, and listened.
"I mean, I like it! It's super upbeat!"


    Upbeat, trumpety songs about how the world sucks, taking me back
to a time when it was safe to say that, when it wasn't right up in my
face. I could be whoever I decided to be.


    Ryuzaki would later tell me he didn't approve of playing music for
her without authorization. I flipped him off. I tried to, anyway, but
that's a meaningful gesture of language so it came out as me doing a
shadow puppet. I think him and Matsuda both got what I meant. Matsuda and
I both agreed, his treatment of her was excessive. He hemmed and hawed
about it. He agreed to play some more music for her, eventually.


    Honestly, the only thing I had contributed so far was speaking
with Misa Amane, and speaking about Misa Amane. No leads had turned out
from me retracing my footsteps, there was no fieldwork, and my brain
didn't operate on the levels of Ryuzaki and Light. I doubt anyone else on
Earth did. All I had to contribute was telling him he was being needlessly
cruel.


    I don't know why Ryuzaki was pushing for this so hard or what he
was getting from it, but he kept it up. I was talking to Misa every day,
now. And I was still mad at her, sometimes. Even if I was too professional
and too brain-damaged to let it be known. She'd come out on the side of
Kira, but in some way I guess I was connecting with her. Like I said, I
could have been her. She'd been hurt and she celebrated the man who took
revenge for her and that was as far as she'd though it out. She wasn't
stupid... not very smart, either... she was passionate, and she thought
that was a substitute for reason. She'd fallen head over heels in love
with Light at first sight, and became a Kira supporter as soon as there
was one reason to like him. But I think I was either breaking her down or
getting her to trust me, or both, strange as that was. What's stranger was
she was earning my trust too. I felt better when I was around her and I'm
not even sure why. Maybe it was because I kept giving up my gun to go in
there and now I was comfortable with her seeing me naked. Through her
blindfold. So there I was, again. Another day.


    //MISA. FEEL?//


    "Feel. Feeling, like how am I feeling? Oh, you know..." She let
out a weak chuckle. "Locked up for weeks, tied in a straitjacket.
Blindfolded. Full of tubes. My neck hurts. I guess that's 'the usual'? I
like the music you got me to listen to, with the horns. And I'm really
hungry. Like I know the IV keeps me fed, I'm not starving. Just... real
hungry. Are you going to let me go?"


    //LIKELY. SLOW. PART GONE.//


    "Slowly... you will probably let me out? Like a bit at a time?"
That sounded so much crueler when it came from her mouth. "Can you take
off the straitjacket first? It's really not comfortable." She sighed. "You
don't need to keep me here."


    //BELIEVE. MAYBE KIRA SECRET. MAYBE DETAIL IMPORTANT.//


    "Maybe Kira secret? You believe me, but... I can't be keeping it
secret... You think I was Kira and didn't know it? Or I know something
else I don't know how important it is."


    //POSSIBLE.//


    "I don't see how I could be Kira and not know it..." she whined.
"I'm not missing huge chunks of time. Other than when I got blackout drunk
when I was sixteen, but that was one time, a while ago. Can't you just let
me go, and I come back in for interviews?


    I wished, Misa. But if you were Kira, you were the biggest threat
that has ever existed. Even compared to a small chance of you being Kira,
it would be irresponsible to let you out, just based on the horrific
damage you can do. That's why I'm working to try and eliminate that last
bit of doubt in Ryuzaki's mind, and make your conditions more humane. As
much as I despise your insistence on Kira's benevolence, I just have to
admire your courage in withstanding this unfair treatment. //NOT CAN. KIRA
DANGER. CHANCE KIRA = DANGER BIG. SAFETY. WAIT CERTAIN. MISA BRAVE.// God
damn it.


    "Kira's in danger. No. Kira is a danger. So if there is a chance
of me being Kira it's still too dangerous? And I wait until you realize
there's no chance. And that made me brave. That's wrong. It doesn't make
me brave." Her head slumped.


    Ugh, this wasn't right. The first time I walked in here, I dreamed
she would be tortured if she killed me, but this wasn't right. She didn't
deserve this. If she was Kira, which I was certain she was not, then she
deserved to be killed, but either way, isolation and deprivation like this
were wrong. She was hungry and afraid and alone. I could do something
about all of those things, if only temporarily.


    I brought the rest of my lunch with me, with the laptop bag,
because the masked guards kept stealing it when I left it outside and I
couldn't tell who. My sushi panini was gone, but I still had that ciabatta
that came with every meal, three or four sectors of orange, and a bottle
of spring water. She wouldn't have lost the ability to eat solid food yet,
judging by what Ryuzaki was doing. She tensed up when I approached her.
All I could say was "Lunch."


    My bare hands tore through the crispy outer layer of bread and
exposed the fluffy loaf beneath. I tried to hold it out for her, but she
just didn't have enough freedom of movement on her neck. I leaned against
her, arm draped across her bound shoulders, and gingerly pressed each
piece of bread into her mouth. She hungrily wolfed down each one. The
crispy crust broke in her mouth, spraying crumbs everywhere. Her hunger
was... probably not sated, it was complimentary ciabatta, but it was
lessened.


    I popped the sport nozzle on the bottle. "Water." I gingerly
slipped the bottle to her lips, and I tried to gently pour it in, but I
pitched a bit too high. Crystal clear Water streamed down her chin and
drizzled onto the floor before her lips latched on and she started
chugging. Greedily, she drained every last drop, and the plastic bottle
crinkled as she sucked the air out of it. It fell to the floor, in the
puddle underneath her dripping chin.


    I stood there in silence, leaning on her, touching her with a
reassuring presence. "Mmmph! That was... Was that fresh baked?" She was
agog. "That tasted... It was amazing!" They say hunger is the best spice,
I guess. "I... Did I earn that for cooperating?"


    "No. Nnnn... Ah. Uh, hungry. Hungry, ummmmm, lunch."


    "Because I was hungry. It was lunch. It was your lunch?" She
licked her lips. "Because I can't cooperate any more than I am. I already
told you everything I know. I'm not Kira. I didn't lose any time while
Kira was active. I just looked like Kira because of the Kuleshov effect. I
met Light at Aoyama, we fell in love right away, but we kept it secret for
my image. I ditched my manager and went to sleep, and I didn't see the
Sakura TV tape. Before I had my own manager, my dad and I licked and
sealed the envelopes for my fan club T-shirts, and someone who was
obsessed with me would have kept the envelope with my hair and cells. I
can't tell you anything else!"


    I shook her gently. Reassuringly, I hope. "Believe."


    "But you can't let me out. Because Kira is just so dangerous. And
you don't think he's making a better world." She sniffled.


    "Soon."


    "I'm... Thanks. For, you know. All you're doing. I know you don't
have to do anything, like, like you don't have to give me food. And you
don't have to listen to me without interrogating me. And you don't have
to, to be like a human telephone so I can talk to my boyfriend even though
it really hurts your brain. And I know that... that we..." Her eyes were
shielded, I was at her side, and still she averted her gaze. "We don't see
eye to eye on Kira. And it's not... like, a thing. That you know, people
can have friendly disagreements about. So you're probably really mad at
me. But you're nice to me anyway."


    Bread and water used to be the standard for deprivation. For Misa,
I'd offered her ambrosia. "Welcome."


    She was quiet, let her head hang. A droplet of water was forming
on her chin. "Naomi... I tried to shut you up every time you wanted to
talk about Raye. I shouldn't have. You can... You can talk about him if
you want. I know he's important to you."


    God. How to begin? I met him working a case. We were staking out a
suspect in this shitty van and he treated me like royalty. He was kind, he
was funny but he wasn't a joker. He was a bit old school, but I liked
that. I wasn't the most stable person, and he was my rock. He was always
there, the smart one, the grounded one. We dated... for way too long
before he popped the question, like he wasn't sure if this was a date or
courtship or anything like that. He wanted to spend the rest of his life
with me. He told me I belonged at home because work was awful and I
deserved to do something that made me happy. He couldn't dance worth a
damn. Bought the new "Madden" every year even though it was the same game.


    //MET CASE. BAD STAKEOUT. KIND ACTION. FUNNY. NOT JOKE. TRADITION.
STABLE. NOT STABLE I. RAYE HELP. DATE WAIT PROPOSE. LIFE TOGETHER. DESERVE
BETTER FBI. DESERVE HAPPY. BAD DANCE. BUY GAME.// God. It was all lost,
wasn't it? That took me minutes. He'd never light up my life again. I
would never even be able to tell anyone what he truly was.


    "He... You were in the FBI together. And you met a stakeout." Misa
was clearly concentrating, her tone even and solemn. "And it wasn't a good
place to be, but he made it good. Because he was nice to you. It made you
feel good to spend time with him. He didn't think the same things as you,
but he was, like, he was a rock. He was supportive of you. And you were
together for a long time before he asked to marry you, because he was a
traditional guy. He didn't want a girl, he wanted a wife he would spend
his life with. And he thought you deserved a life that made sense where
you were happy. And he was a bad dancer but you didn't care. And... and I
don't know what the last part means. I'm sorry."


    I was kind of amazed. I stammered out. "Fine. Fine, uh... fine.
Fine, forget." I held her just a bit tighter.


    "Forget about it. Okay." She was almost dolorous now. "He was...
He was someone really special to you. I can tell just by, like, the noises
you made while you were typing on your phone. And... it's wrong that he
was taken away. You shouldn't have to feel that. He shouldn't."


    If I was her therapist this would be a major development. Was I? I
was crying already, from trying to write for so long. A tear slipped down
her cheek to blend in to her wet mouth. I wiped her eye.


    "But I... I..." She choked up. "My.. parents were killed in a
robbery, just over a year ago... I was home with them at the time, it
happened right in front of me. I knew who did it. I, I saw him. I wanted
him to pay. He, it wouldn't bring them back, but it would, I don't know,
it would close the wound. But... he was the son of someone powerful. He
did this kind of thing just because he could. He hadn't actually killed
yet before, but he knew he'd get away with it. The prosecutor wasn't doing
anything. He got paid off to say he thought the guy was falsely accused,
and people were believing him. Newspapers that were outraged about the
murder forgot it ever happened. So the charges got dropped. And then it
happened. Kira punished him for what he did to my parents. That's why Kira
means so much to me.


    "I know I'm not the smartest person, or the strongest, and... I
hear people say I'm a terrible actress and just a manufactured star and
I'll be dead weight by age 25... but I never felt worthless until then.
The people I loved were taken away from me, right in front of me, and I
couldn't do anything! I'm sorry that Raye died, and, and I wish it never
happened, because you didn't deserve to have someone you loved taken away.
But, but, but neither did I! My parents died, and he was going to get
away, and, and, and, and I couldn't go on if something like that happened.
Kira saved me!"


    She was angry and choking now, and I don't know if she was angry
at me or the murderer or Kira or herself. "He was the only one who cared
about getting justice. And if it wasn't for him... how do you expect me to
live when everything I love can just be taken away like that and nobody
can stop it?"


    What could I do? Rub her arm a bit more, I guess? She sniffed the
snot that was starting to form. "Raye... I don't want to trade my parents
for your fiance. I don't... I don't want you to trade them for him either.
I don't. I just... don't want the world to be terrible. Not any more." And
then said something important. Not all of the way there, but part of it.
"Catch Kira, okay? The real one. Catch him, and, and he can help. Make
sure that he only kills really bad people. You can, you're with L, you can
double check all his work. And that he doesn't make any other mistakes."
She held in a sob. "He wants a better world. If he... He wouldn't want to
take people like Raye out of it. But maybe he was scared. Maybe he was so
afraid that if he got caught the world would be terrible again, that he
didn't think. Maybe, maybe he can go to jail, and he can help people from
there, with you making sure he doesn't make any more mistakes."


    "...Maybe."


    But probably not.


                               * L I G H T *


    The plan had been thus: Misa got caught, so she gave up her Death
Note. I turn myself in and do the same. The killings stop, validating
Ryuzaki's emotional investment in thinking we are guilty. I lose my
memory, making it impossible for me to incriminate myself, and so did
Misa, making it impossible for her to screw up and reveal the deception.
Rem waits two weeks and flies forth with my Death Note to give to a new
user. Kira begins killing again after weeks, forcing Ryuzaki to think that
there is another Kira, and it can't be us. We're released, free and clear.
Hopefully, Ryuzaki is powerless to find the new Kira without me. I catch
the new guy. I get the Death Note, I get my memories back. The false "kill
every 13 days or die yourself" rule I had inserted into the notebook means
that Misa and I can't possibly be Kira, we were imprisoned more than 13
days! Ryuzaki thinks this must contradict how he was certain we used to be
Kira and stopped when captured, but the facts don't lie. Misa is told
where her Note is buried, gets her memory back, immediately does something
suicidally stupid, threatens to reveal herself, Rem has to kill Ryuzaki to
save her, Rem dies and no longer threatens me, no residual suspicion
remains. I am the new L, I kill Misa or spare her depending on how much
trouble she is. With access to L's resources and intelligence, I scourge
the world of everyone who didn't belong, including the criminals whose
names were hidden by their government's new anti-Kira policies, or those
who lived in areas without media attention. I become the God of a new
world.


    Naomi throws a wrench in this plan.


    Ryuzaki's surveillance is incredibly porous. I mean, I managed to
get my watch modified with a hidden compartment for holding a tiny sheet
of Death Note, whose only other purpose would be to smuggle one
single-serving packet of heroin, and he never noticed. I can do plenty of
incriminating things without his knowledge, I'm not worried about it. But
he knows I could always be doing something incriminating he didn't see.
And Naomi has incriminating evidence in her memory, waiting for the
vagaries of neurological recovery to make it accessible. If she gets back
her unaltered memory, I am dead. No matter what deception I wrought, I
told her "By the way, I'm Kira". Too many pieces fit together with that
information. Ryuzaki never lets me out. I may not remember what I did but
it doesn't matter. She may just kill me anyway, even though at the time I
am an innocent man. I have to stay out of custody to ensure I have a
modicum of her sympathy, and ensure that her memories don't come back in a
useful fashion. I followed her in the same place I did before I sent her
to her death, and when her memory was jogged, she filled in the blank
spots with my face. Causing her to discard the entire memory as
confabulated. If she recalls that Kira must have seen her husband's name
in the busjacking, the information of who was there isn't accessible any
more. But it takes me more than a week to set this up and verify it, and
now I'm inside the time limit. I have no clue who gets the new Death Note,
other than that they are not as smart as me, and I need to be in prison
more than 13 days. The worst possible outcome would be that I neutralize
Naomi's memories, I go into custody, I lose my memory, seven days later
the new Kira is so laughably inept that they get caught on the same day
they begin. Then I can't be released from prison yet, I can't touch the
Note to recover my memories, and they seal it in the warehouse from
'Raiders of the Lost Ark' because it's so dangerous. I would still be a
wunderkind next in line for the most powerful unelected position in the
world with a model as my girlfriend, which is not the worst fail state,
but I didn't want to settle if I didn't have to. The person I was without
the Note was weak and cowardly. He didn't deserve any of that even if he
would appreciate it more than I would.


    Plus, there was Rem to worry about. If I got sick of what a psycho
Misa was, and I didn't have my memories, I might do something that got Rem
miffed, and then I'd die. And if I was imprisoned but Misa wasn't, Misa
was a dangerous catalyst bouncing around. I needed to keep her in danger
to keep Rem in line, but keep her in control to prevent her from using her
"extra life" on someone other than Ryuzaki.


    So there was no way around it. I was doing it live. No memory
forfeiture; I could live without it since the final image we were painting
didn't have it and I needed to be able to manipulate things. Misa looked
like she was Kira, the deaths had stopped, but that obviously cleared me.
There was a risk, yeah, that I might slip up and give away the game. But
not flipping my shit at seeing Naomi alive proved I could handle myself.
I'd set up a means for covert communication, to be delivered soon. I
practiced writing really small -- I was seeing how Naomi did it, of
course, and then I was just doodling -- and the Death Note sheet in my
watch could take three deaths and circumstances, if I wrote carefully and
one of them was short. That was going to be enough.


    I walked in to Ryuzaki's latest opulent hotel room, and the whole
team was there, chairs facing each other. The stacks of medical records
were nowhere to be found; maybe Ryuzaki had realized what a useless waste
of time he had inflicted on the entire crew on looking for a Kira Immunity
Factor. After Watari let me in, there were a couple of nods of assent,
then Naomi said "Clothes."


    "You mean, like a wardrobe?" asked Matsuda. "Or... a store? That
would require more personnel to run it."


    "Nnnngh!" she grunted in frustration. "Clothes!" She held one hand
up, then spun her other hand around it, making "vwum vwum vwum" noises.


    "Is that, I don't get it," said Mogi. "A fan?" Naomi grunted in
frustration, threw up her hands, and stormed off into her miniature
bedroom, tears leaking down her face. Odd. She usually got frustrated with
her inability to communicate, but not that quickly or dramatically.


    "I think she meant a clothes-washing machine," I helpfully added.
"You know, that's the sound they make. So, uh, why are we talking about
washing machines?"


    "A laundry. That's a good idea; I had not thought of it," said
Ryuzaki as he wrote something down. "And hello, Light. We're preparing to
move to the next center of operations for the Kira investigation." He
tapped a slide projector behind him, illuminating architectural concept
art of a building. "23 floors, with two basements. The building will be
designed to be as self-sufficient as possible and run with the bare
minimum of non-vetted personnel. Nigh-impenetrable panic doors can turn
any room into a bunker. Most of the floors are unassigned at the moment;
the investigators are making suggestions as to what they want on site."


    What would Good Guy Light Who Never Did Nothing To Nobody want? I
had no idea. He didn't deserve it, whatever it was. "Uh... if I have a
problem I'll let you know. Wait, if it's a whole building, and you don't
have non-vetted personnel... Do you have, like a super-loyal janitor on
staff?" If that got me information I could use as Kira then great, but
honestly, I wanted to know how the hell that operation worked.


    "The center will have two of my seven unimpeachably loyal
custodial staff, fully masked and speaking not a word of Japanese,"
Ryuzaki said with maybe a hint of smugness. "If I had to choose, I would
rather the enterprise of L have a limitless supply of trusted and
competent janitors than the most skilled marksmen and computer hackers."
Huh. Not sure if he was making a good point or not, but when I became L, I
wasn't going to smash up his whole system anyway. Not until I figured out
how it worked. Sure, have super-janitors with code names like 'Moppu' or
'Bukketto'.


    "Okay... Cool? I guess? How is Misa doing?"


    "Misa Amane is doing fine. Her condition won't be a matter of
concern much longer," Ryuzaki replied.


    "Good. Because you have to know I'm pretty concerned about it. I'm
trying to be understanding because of the needs of the investigation and
all, but," get real frank, keep it very real, "Dude... you did kidnap my
girlfriend and tie her up for a month. You didn't even want to feed her or
play her music. That's pretty messed up."


    Ryuzaki looked right through me with his big, haunted, sunken
eyes. "'Dude'... Kira stopped killing a few days after your girlfriend was
imprisoned. That's what is messed up." The new Kira would have begun by
now, and he was waiting for me to reveal some guilty knowledge. Also, dude
bro dude brah champ dude Ace Slick bllleeeaaaggghhhh.


    "And all of us know that you don't think it's over!" I shot back.
"You have us in here looking for some Kira Immunity Factor while you wait
for news that you know is going to come. Kira is coming back. If Misa ever
was Kira, she's not any more. I know it, Naomi knows it, even Matsuda
knows it!" I couldn't withstand prolonged isolation like that with my
memories, I might crack. But now everyone is mad at prolonged isolation,
aren't they, and it hasn't worked, and they aren't going to go along with
it. Time to let him think he had the idea I'm feeding to him! "And I've
been out this whole time Kira has stopped, that doesn't make you stop
being suspicious of me, does it? You don't think it's her either."


    "I haven't seen what you've been doing the whole time. I can't
rule you out as a suspect," he said, not making eye contact and chewing
his thumbnail.


    "Hey, Light," Ryuk butted in, "I know you're busy, but can you ask
if they can have an apple orchard installed? They can put it on the roof,
right?" That shinigami had consumed twenty times his own biomass
(necromass?) in apples since I met him. He had to have been the shinigami
equivalent of a coke fiend.


    "Well what's it gonna take, huh? Do you want me to get locked up
and blindfolded and straitjacketed? Because you know what, I don't think
I'm okay with your investigatory methods!" God, it felt good to tell him
off for a plausible reason.


    "It does seem a little excessive. There have to be more... humane
ways of monitoring my son," Dad said over a newspaper. I bet he asked for
a flavorless porridge dispenser in the lobby. I mean, I say give it to
him, Dad knows who he is, but come on.


    "Hmph. Fine." Ryuzaki pouted. "I have quarters in the middle of
the tower. When we move in, they will be attached to yours. You will be at
my side for every moment, save when I am performing sensitive business you
cannot be privy to, when you will be placed in a locked, monitored
isolation chamber until I return." Then he looked to my dad. "After no
more than an hour."


    Poor, foolish, cautious Ryuzaki. Never willing to make the big
plays, always so scared of losing what position he had. If you had done
that to me when your suspicions were first raised, I'd be done for. But
you didn't. Because you're a coward.


    "Maybe an apple orchard is too much," Ryuk said. "Can they put in
a movie theater, like below your room? I can poke my head through the
floor and watch a movie."


    "Fine. Sounds great. Dad can help me move in my stuff." Ryuzaki
smiled. I knew I was going to be followed much more closely until I moved
in; he was giving me time to prepare so I could be caught preparing. But
I'd already done everything I needed to. "I'll -- I'll let you know what I
want in the plaza. The p-L-Aza." Naomi's guest room was open and she was
plainly visible, so she was okay to visit. She was looking at the contents
of a manila folder, which she flipped shut when I entered. The same folder
she was looking at a lot lately. The one that seemed to get her real, real
mad. I gave her a friendly nod and sat down across from her. She slid the
folder into her messenger bag, and grabbed a glass of orange juice from
the nightstand.


    "Hey. Sorry I have to barge into your bedroom to talk. Maybe you
can get a whole apartment in the new building?"


    She didn't say anything. She was looking at a calendar. Little
page a day thing on the bedside table -- it was June 18th.


    "Uh... I'm going to assume it's okay. You don't have to say
something to send me out -- just wave your hand or something. I just want
to be here for you." I had been pretty nice to her the past couple weeks.
Buttering her up. Playing a character. Nice, earnest, awkward sometimes
but in a humanizing way. Afraid he didn't know as much as people thought,
but only willing to confide in special people. Listened so patiently,
tried so hard to decipher her useless utterances. Given how much of an
abrasive prick Ryuzaki was, she probably liked me more than she liked him.
And if Ryuzaki's Kira-proof toy liked me more than him, she wasn't his
toy. She was mine. "Hey, I wanted to say again, thanks a lot for what
you're doing with Misa. I know it has to be really hard. Both in terms of
playing Telephone, and hearing her... say some of the things she says."


    "Hmph." she grunted noncommittally. She wasn't barely paying
attention to me. So what was she thinking of? Why was she looking at the
calendar?


    "I mean... I didn't like that part of her either. And you, you
have more of a right than anyone to be angry with Kira supporters."


    She thought for a moment. Or didn't think at all and just took a
bit to get the next word going. Changed gears from standoffish to
speaking. "Ig. Ig, ig? Ignorant. Ignorant, uh. Ummmm... Ignorant."
Whatever came after that was too hard for her.


    "Ignorant. She doesn't... Okay, she doesn't know what she's
saying. Like not what it really means, right?" Aw-shucks smile. "That's, I
mean, I agree, but it's real charitable for you to see that. I think she
might have gone insane if you weren't there to help her, and you didn't
have to do any of it."


    Hey Naomi. You know what the opposite of Stockholm Syndrome is?
It's Lima Syndrome. Captors grow affection for their captives. Especially
when it's reinforced how important they are for each other. Misa would do
anything for me the moment she recovered her memories of me being Kira,
and you'd go along for the ride.


    Change the subject, small talk. "So, you had another knee surgery,
right? Are they thinking you're going to be able to go without the
crutch?"


    "Mmmph." She stared off a bit more. June 18th. She pulled out her
pocket notebook. //CATCH KIRA DO?//


    Questions were hard for her. She was, apparently, completely
incapable of ever using who, what, when, where, why, or how. Something
about how she has to ask herself the question to use the word. Sometimes I
liked to reinforce how hard it was to communicate with her. "Did I catch
Kira? No. Uh, what would I do to catch Kira? No? What did Kira do to...
no? What would... What would I do if I caught Kira? Yes?" Whoa, what a big
effort I had gone through to talk to her! "I mean, I don't know. Put him
in jail to stand trial. Or they'd put him in one of those tubes they have
in Area 51 to study what gives him his power. I think the blindfold and
restraints they got Misa in wouldn't be excessive."


    She narrowed her eyes at me and added another word. //ALONE.//


    "I don't really get what you mean." Yes I did, and it was going
down a road I really, really liked. "You mean, like, would I kill him?"
She nodded. "Well..." I ran my fingers through my hair, leaned forward,
made it look I was really revealing a deep, dark secret about myself.
"...yeah, I guess I would. Kira's caused so much pain and suffering to
everyone, he thinks he's God... if I was in a room alone with him and a
gun, I'd shoot him." Look down at hands, seem slightly shocked but also
relieved to let it off your chest, "I'd pull the trigger until it went
'click' and then I'd beat him with the empty gun. Oh God, I'm just as bad
as he is, aren't I?"


    "No." she said as she scribbled. //SAME I. SAME TEAM. KIRA DEAD.//


    Yes. Kill the people who deserve to die that the justice system
won't touch. You'd be fine with being my second Kira as long as I filed
off the name and serial numbers, wouldn't you? "I'm sorry. I haven't lost
as much to him as you have, I shouldn't be saying..."


    "No!" She snarled in inexpressive anger. "Lost, nngh, lost! No!"


    "No. You're right. Raye wasn't lost. Someone took him away. He
probably didn't even care." And I didn't. He deserved to die because he
was trying to stop Justice. And you'll die as soon as I'm sure I can't use
you to advance the cause of Justice any further, and you won't be mourned
for a second. "Murderers who tell themselves they're innocent, that they
aren't murderers because they sit high up, far away from the pain they
make... it makes me sick." I shook my head. "But we shouldn't be talking
about stuff like this when there's nothing we can do. Too depressing. So,
what were you reading?"


    "Uh. Nothing."


    What was in that folder, Naomi? A file on someone or something.
Something you wanted to hide from other people, that you didn't want them
to know about, that got you thinking about what you'd do to someone who
took something from you? Couldn't be a file on Kira, you'd be fine with me
seeing that. Someone else who took something from you? Someone else who
you're spoiling for revenge on?


    What's the significance of June 18th? What does it make you think
of?


    Might you be compelled to revenge against someone who took away
your love?


                               * N A O M I *


    Misa Amane's lodgings had been upgraded. When I entered from the
airlock-door, the lights were dimmed to the level of a 20-watt bulb, and
she was in the center... handcuffed and legcuffed to a metal chair,
wearing a baggy white garment, and her eyes winced shut. Outside the
blindfold.


    "Aggghhhh," she moaned, "Why is it so bright in here?"


    "Uh. Atrophy." I said. "Atro... umm. Um. Eyes." I set down my
bags, there was a lot to do today. I set the miniature table stand up, and
laid out lunch on it. Spring rolls this time.


    "Oh, like, I wasn't using my eyes. So they're weak too. That makes
sense," she said. Then she heard me begin to undo the shackles. Her eyes
went wide, she screamed, and shut them again. "Aaack! God! Why did I DO
that? That HURTS! But -- are you letting me go, Naomi? Am I gonna go
free?"


    I grunted in the negative. "Nnnnghhh... Recover."


    "That wasn't a yes... I have to recover first? Are you here for
that?" She winced one eye open just sliiightly to let the light in. "Does
that mean you guys know I'm not Kira yet?"


    "Small." What the heck was up with this last lock, was there gum
in it? I couldn't get it off Misa's ankle, I had to undo the end on the
chair.


    "Small? I'm a small Kira? I'm... Oh, like, smaller chance of me
being Kira. Right? So I can do more since I am probably not dangerous?"
She looked to me with one squinty eye expectantly. I confirmed her guess.
"That's... better! L's finally listening, right? I said before, I told you
everything I know. I'm not Kira, I've never lost any significant amount of
time. I met Light in Aoyama and fell in love right away, but we kept our
relationship secret because of my idol image. I just looked like Kira
because of the Kuleshov effect. I didn't see the Sakura TV broadcast
because I snuck out on my manager to sleep. My hair and cells can be found
on the fan club envelopes Dad and I sent out before I signed on with
Sunshine. None of the other people at the agency expressed pro-Kira
leanings and said I shouldn't get political."


    I grunted in the affirmative again. She was slowly opening her
eyes now, and rather than force my way through words I just chucked the
other end of her last shackle forward so she could feel it was moving.


    "I'm not Kira..." she said again, her voice miniscule. "I know you
need to do all this for Kira, but, but I'm not..." She took a deep breath,
and took a halting, uneven step. Ryuzaki must have had some much better
nurses than my hospital, because that plus the wiggle alarm had rendered
her able to stand under her own power. She took one step, two -- and fell
forward. I caught her, and she looked up at my face in the dim light. I
smiled. Her eyes lit up. "Naomi, is that you?"


    Yup.


    "Wow... You're really pretty!" My nervous laughter almost caused
me to drop her, so quickly I situated her back to her feet. "No, I'm
serious! You've got like really good cheekbones and intense eyes. Soulful.
And they can cover up your scar but, like, I think it looks really cool."
Then her hands went to her mouth and she gasped. Almost lost her balance
again. "I saw your face! I'm not supposed to see anyone's faces because
I'm in like Kira Quarantine, right? Are you going to be in trouble?"


    Nope. "Fine. And, ah, uh. Fine. Comfort."


    "It's fine? I won't get you in trouble? You want me to be
comfortable. Or you are comfortable. Because I can't get out right away."


    "Close."


    "Whatever, at this point I just want the food!" She looked down at
the floor, slowly and carefully assessing her balance before each step.
"And... I appreciate you letting me see your face. It means you believe
me, and that's, that's real important." She held out a hand for me, and I
took it, so she could shakily make her way over to the spring rolls. She
crammed the first one into her mouth in a single go, but she dropped the
second on the floor. She looked confused, as confused as she could with a
whole spring roll stuffed in her mouth, and I pulled the purple squish
ball from my pocket to place in her hand. "Mmmh, rhhht," she said in a
spray of rice and crumbs. I offered her a paper plate, and pointed her
back to her seat. Soon, she was seated with her food in her lap where it
was easily recovered if dropped, a bottle of spring water, and before us,
Matsuda's portable DVD player and loaned entertainment. I was going to
have to give her a little course of physical therapy myself, I'd have to
if she ever wanted out, but first she deserved as much of a kick-back
relax opportunity as I could give her.


    "Ooh, is this 'Magic Knight Rayearth'?" she asked with enthusiasm,
though she wasn't looking at the screen very much. "I love that kinda
show. I really like all the magical girl, power of love conquers all
stuff, but it doesn't really fit my EGL image." Big bite, big chew of
contemplation. "Oh, I get it. Because I might still be Kira, I can't see
anything live-action that has anyone's face. But anime is fine because
Kira doesn't work on voices. That... It makes sense. That's actually
pretty smart!" She smiled at me, but it was weak and uneasy. "I'll avert
my eyes during the credits if you want. Just to be safe."


    It was fine, and I didn't believe it was an issue, and also I held
up the DVD case advertising //- Textless intro and outro sequences!// The
lights were a bit brighter now, as she acclimated to them, got used to the
screen.


    She couldn't open the nozzle on her water bottle with her fingers,
but got it with her teeth just fine. She held it with both hands to take a
swig, which was smart, and she sighed in satisfaction. It must have hit
the spot. "This is nice. I mean... no, it isn't, I'm in jail. But like you
all have to be super careful in case I'm Kira, so... I..." She started to
sniffle. "I... I know how this had to look for you... that I look like
this deadly killer and all. And now you're giving me as much as you can
while keeping everyone safe. Thank you for not just... it's good to have
someone to look out for me when I can't, Miss Naomi."


    "Misora. Naomi Misora."


    My name is Naomi Misora.


                                * M I S A *


    What's going on? Why am I here again? I'm all tied up and
blindfolded! Why? Naomi said I was doing good! I think she said I had most
of my motion back! I was eating food and watching anime and had a cot to
sleep on, and now, now when I woke up I was all tied up again! L believed
me! Naomi believed me!


    The door swished open. Who? "Miss Naomi, is that you?" It was, I
could tell by how she walked, she had a crutch! She was walking faster
than I ever heard her and she yanked the blindfold off my face and GOD it
was bright in here. "What's going on? Why am I tied up?"


    She held an index card in front of my face for a few seconds.
That's right, if it was easier for her to type than talk, it should be
easier to write too. Her handwriting was messy and halting and didn't look
at all like I'd expect. //L LIE. ERROR CHANCE. NOT ERROR. TIRED WAITING.
DISSECT MISA.//


    "Okay so there was a chance of an error but it didn't happen and
HE'S GOING TO DISSECT ME WHAT THE SHIT?" I started flailing madly in my
restraints, which was probably making it way harder for Naomi to undo
them, but I wasn't thinking clearly! I didn't wanna be dissected! "Don't
let him cut me open! Tell him I'm innocent! You, you know I'm innocent or
you wouldn't let me see your face! Oh God are you going to kill me?"


    She put that card back in my face again and flipped it over to the
back. //ESCAPE MISA. GARAGE. FAST. QUIET.//


    I fell forward onto my face, tripping inside the giant sleeves of
an opened straitjacket. I whipped my arms back and forth and yanked on the
middle until I was able to crawl out. What was I wearing? The same awful,
crusty one-piece I spent most of my imprisonment in. I was gonna burn it
as soon as we escaped. Naomi was at the door was a gun drawn, and I ran
over to her side. I stumbled a couple times, but I didn't trip, because
those exercises she gave me worked real well.


    "How... How can we escape? I could hear guards out there, and this
place has cameras!" I was trying not to hyperventilate. I was scared out
of my mind!


    She pulled another card from her pocket. //GUARD GAS. CAMERA LOOP.
SENSOR OFF. FAST. QUIET.// Shit, this place had sensors too? The door slid
open again and she pulled me inside, next to her. The door was like an
airlock thing, like the turning cylinder door of a darkroom, and there was
an unconscious guard on the floor with his hands ziptied. While the
cylinder turned slowly, and I bit my thumb to not talk, Naomi pulled
another card out, saying //CARD BEFORE ATTACK. SENTENCE FEW. NOT TIME
TYPE. CAREFUL.//


    "You had to write these ahead of time so you can't tell me
anything that isn't on the cards. okay," I whispered.
Vrrmvrrmvrrmvrrmvrrm, the door went. "Did you write down where we go after
we get out of here?"


    She did. //USA TICKET. NARITA. HIDE.// Okay, we were going to
America. My English was so terrible it basically didn't exist, and she had
trouble talking, so... I was going to need to learn English real fast. But
it was better than being sliced up!


    The door rotated open and we made our way past the guard station,
where there were two more dudes in masks passed out, and videos showing
tapes of me in bondage. I was looking at the floor so I wouldn't trip,
relying on Naomi to hold my hand and guide me through the tunnels. We were
underground somewhere, somewhere there were boxes and steam tubes and the
concrete floor was freezing. I was hiccuping, but it was more quiet than
crying.


    She pulled me to a stop in front of a door labelled "B-13", with a
numerical keypad. //STORAGE. SKIP GUARD.// And then cut out and taped to
the note card was a bit of a Post-It with the passcode in someone else's
hand. //63819//. It was too precise, too much like language for her to do.
I had to do it for her. I closed my eyes, took a deep breath. My hands
were shaking, they felt super weak, but I got it. Six, three, eight, one,
nine, Enter. The door beeped and allowed us in. Inside were boxes, crates,
containers, a labyrinth of stacked-up storage. I had no idea how big this
place was, but Naomi was moving through with purpose. Her crutch was
hanging off her arm so she could keep her gun out and hold my hand, and
clearly it was starting to hurt. But she knew where we were going. And we
were going to make it out.


    And then we heard the door open again behind us. We froze. Slowly,
carefully she pulled another note, and this one just said //WAIT. HIDE. I
LOOK.// She pointed to a little alley between some boxes. I nodded, and I
hid. There was a little crack in the wall, and I could kind of see what
she was doing.


    She went back, with the crutch and with her gun holstered, to see
who was coming. Just when she got to the corner, she ran into the guy, an
average looking cop kind of dude in a suit with a blacked out name tag and
a big scowl. She greeted him with "Muh, uhhhhh, Matsu--" and I wanted to
scream, but I put the whole base of my hand in my mouth and bit it.


    He snapped "I already know what you're up to, traitor!" and he put
his arm across her throat. He grabbed the gun out of her holster, and
then, then he kicked her out of the way, and then he shot her. The whole
warehouse room echoed BLAM, BLAM, BLAM, BLAM! as he shot her four times.
She screamed, and then she STOPPED. I couldn't even see her. I didn't
think she was okay.


    And then he was coming for me. He had the gun and he was coming
for me. And I looked around and this little place was SMALL but there was
no way OUT and all the boxes were so heavy and then OH MY GOD HE'S HERE HE
FOUND ME!


    "Did you think you were getting away, 'Misamisa'? Did you think
you got to escape after what you did?" He was screaming and I, I didn't
know, I couldn't think, I just said everything, and


    "You killed her! Oh God, you killed her!" I wailed.


    "What does it matter to you? We know you're Kira, we know you've
killed a whole hell of a lot more than two people!" He was shaking the gun
at me.


    "Why did you kill her? I'm, I'm not, but she really wasn't! You
killed her!" I was blubbering helplessly now. Everything was wrong.
Everything was terrible. Where was my guardian angel? Where, why, why as I
so weak I couldn't help anyone?


    "Don't you lie to me! Don't you fucking lie to me and say you're
not Kira!"


    "But, but I, I can't, I never, oh god, oh please..." I don't know,
I don't understand, why does this happen, why are things like this, why is
this everything? A box fell or something behind him, and he turned and
looked away to it for a second. I tried to run, or, or scamper off on my
hands and knees, but there was nowhere to go, and he turned right back and
aimed at me.


    "SAY IT! Admit it, admit you're Kira or so help me GOD!" He
clicked the hammer back on the gun.


    "I'm... I'm kuh-Kira... I'll go... buh-back to the cell... cuh-cut
me up... get her a duh-doctor..." I sobbed.


    "I'll see you in Hell, Kira," he said. And he shot me. I screamed.
And I kept screaming as darkness overtook me.





    "AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA--"


    "Miss Amane," L's voice was saying over the speaker. "Calm down.
You are in no danger."


    "--AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA--"


    "I'm so sorry, Misamisa!" the new guy Matsu-something said. He
held the gun to its side. "It's a prop, see?"


    "--AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA--"


    Someone was walking over with a crutch. L continued, "Some
deception was necessary in order to verify you were safe to release."


    "--AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA--"


    Naomi walked in. Fine. Unharmed. She looked worried, and she said
to me, "Uh, air."


    "--AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa..." I was
running out of breath and my vision was getting spotty. Someone came from
the boxes, some big old guy, wheeling an oxygen tank. I grabbed the little
breather mask and I took a long, deep hit of air. I was panting. Everyone
was quiet for a few seconds as I stared around with wide eyes. "What...
What is going on?" I finally asked when I was only hyperventilating enough
to talk. "You, were trying to kill me, we, were escaping, then you found
us..."


    The cop guy looked sheepish. "It was a prop gun. I'm in the
investigation, but I was acting."


    "I apologize for any pain that our deception caused you," L's
voice said over the loudspeaker. "If it is any consolation, I agree with
Naomi and Matsuda now: you are not a Kira of any kind."


    "D-deception? Why? I thought I was going to die!"


    "Exactly." said L. "Placed in a situation where you had to use
your Kira power or die, after having verified you had a functional range
of movement to enlist whatever that power may be... you had no idea what
to do. Menaced by a man whose face was known to you, who spent time
yelling at you to allow you to engage your power, then turned away from
you... you were helpless to defend yourself. Thus, you are not Kira."


    I wasn't Kira! Kira protects people, I couldn't do that! He knew
it! Finally!


    'Matsuda' was rubbing the back of his head in embarrassment.
Unless the guy with the oxygen was Matsuda, but I don't think so. "I've
been talking to your manager, Misamisa. The investigation kind of has to
stay involved with you just for your safety, because if it was a crazed
fan who set you up, him or Kira may want to come after you. Things are all
ready for you to go back to work as soon as you feel comfortable. I'm your
new manager just in case it intersects with the investigation, but, Mr.
Obu is mostly telling me what to do."


    I got to go out! Do stuff! People got to see me again! I got to
act again!


    "I've mostly furnished your lodgings in the investigation's new
headquarters," the old dude with the oxygen tank said. "Your apartment
will be with us for your safety, but you will come and go as you please.
Please do not mistake that you are returning to a prison."


    He was giving me an apartment! Probably better than my old one
where it was drafty as hell because I had no idea how to yell at landlords
to make them do things and I moved in without shopping around for a good
place! And if it's in an investigation headquarters, probably someone has
to clean it up before the trash starts forming drifts!


    Naomi walked over to me and held up an index card. The writing on
this one was much more feminine and WAY messier. Which only made sense,
that L guy probably rewrote all the cards to make them say exactly what he
wanted. It said. //SORRY. LIE MISA. SCARE MISA. HURT MISA. BETRAY MISA.
MISA HATE?//


    I jumped at her and hugged her so hard I almost bowled her over.
"Why would I hate you? You got me out! You convinced him I'm not Kira! I'm
not gonna be locked up any more, I'm fine, you guys are going to help me!"
I was light as a feather. I could have run a marathon. I was crying again,
out of joy. "You really came to the rescue! You saved me!"


    * R U L E S *


    35a: If a Death Note owner accidentally misspells a name four
times, that person will be free from being killed by the Death Note.
However, if they intentionally misspell the name four times, the Death
Note owner will die.


    Clarification: If the Death Note is loaned to another, who
intentionally misspells a name four times, the WRITER will die, and not
the owner.


    Testing Request: What happens if someone who neither owns nor uses
the Death Note gives a face and incorrectly spelled name to a user and
instructs them to write it four times?


    X-2a: Humans who have no way of envisioning the face of their
target, such as those born blind or who have damage to the visual cortex,
cannot use the Death Note even if they have their own distinct methods of
remembering individual identities. Humans and gods of death who have lost
their sight later on can only make valid entries in the Death Note of
those they remember the faces of.


    X-2b. Mechanical devices cannot be made to create valid entries in
the Death Note as they cannot envision human faces, even if they can be
made to write or print correctly spelled names on the page. A human could
use a stamp and ink to create a valid entry, but not press a lever that
causes the stamp to press down on the Death Note. Prosthetic hands only
function if there is absolutely no mechanical articulation between the
motion of the organic arm and the writing utensil.
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