Best Laid Plans, Chapter 4
Title: Best Laid Plans
Chapter: Prologue, 1, 2, 3, 4
Rating: R
Summary: On November 5, 2004, L saw the trap Light set with Misa and Rem and narrowly sidestepped it. What followed was a series of plans to expose Light as Kira and turn a key tool against him, though escaping the specter of death would be a difficult proposition.
Characters: Ide, Aizawa, L, Watari, brief appearances by Mogi, Matsuda, Misa, Rem, and Ryuk and references to Soichiro, Light, Higuchi, and some old ghosts.
Word Count: 3,914
Warnings: Graphic descriptions of gunshot wounds and a couple off-color phrases.
Disclaimer: Death Note and recognizable characters belong to Ohba/Obata.
Author's Note: And now we return to the present time for a little while. These little time skips will happen, though they shouldn't reveal too much of my evil plotting. Just a little kindasortanotreally preview.
Best Laid Plans
Chapter 4: After the fiasco, developing story
January 28, 2005
Tokyo
12:23 p.m.
Ide moved his newspaper for the steaming bowl of sliced steak and noodles the waitress put in front of him with a cordial “Here you are, sir.”
He gave a nod in thanks, eyes going directly for the bowl as he picked up his chopsticks. He had them positioned in his fingers right when a low ring emitted from his jacket pocket.
Ide rolled his eyes and took out his phone, chopsticks taking hold of a strip of steak. Whoever was calling him would have to endure him eating during the conversation; politeness be damned, he was starving.
He flipped open the phone, Aizawa’s cell phone number on display as he put it to his ear. What was this about?
“Ide,” he said.
“Ide, it’s Aizawa,” Aizawa said on the other end through a profound sigh. “I can’t say much over the phone so bear with me. I’ll just start by saying there has been a massive breakthrough in the case.”
The case. That only meant one thing.
Three months ago, the night Kyosuke Higuchi was killed, Aizawa returned to the Taskforce under L; returning to work with the Chief, Light, Matsuda, and Mogi. Aizawa directly took part in Higuchi’s arrest and touched the notebook in his briefcase that supposedly showed a Shinigami.
Ide stayed behind; someone had to manage the police and continue the investigation outside of L’s authority. L himself even called him a day after Higuchi’s death, the usual electronically masked voice offering him a place on the Taskforce. He refused, sparing no details of his reasoning nor any criticism. L politely said he respected his wishes, saying he would allow any member of the Taskforce to share details should he decide to get involved. There was almost a lingering threat that he could call him into assist at any moment. Since then he hadn’t heard from anyone in the Taskforce; a ringing declaration to him that L, or Ryuzaki as everyone referred to him as, wasn’t sharing a damn thing outside the Taskforce…or at least wasn’t sharing until he needed a favor.
Ide also refused to touch the notebook. He considered himself a pretty open-minded individual; open-minded enough to know there were things not of this world he would rather not get into unless he had to. This was one detail he would rather leave to the Taskforce and not get sucked into, stay on the sidelines as a neutral third party. It almost felt like touching the notebook and seeing any creature was a type of contract, whether spiritual or otherwise. Touching the notebook could also have been L’s leverage to pull him in regardless of the actual ramifications.
“Ide, it’s over and it‘s an absolute mess,” Aizawa said.
Somehow his chopsticks stayed in his fingers. Over?
Ide took a careful look around the restaurant to see no one remotely interested in his conversation; just the usual lunchtime crowd minding their own food and business.
“He’s been caught?” Ide whispered.
The pause over the phone told him everything.
--------
L only now realized his eyes were open.
A white ceiling was a deceptive image, though his brain now registered the man in a uniform and helmet leaning over him and the IV bags in his peripheral vision.
The labels were turned to the other side; Lactated Ringers probably. He was pleased he was able to remember that information.
A computer boots up, it goes through a normal system of checks as all of its programs load one by one. The drive had obvious errors, but was going through its start-up sequence regardless.
The wail of a siren and electronic beep of a heart monitor cut through the ringing in his ears. The paramedics were talking. What they were saying wasn’t clear.
“Are you going to be sticking around for a little bit?”
That voice came from the side. It sounded familiar.
Why was Watari so close to him? He was practically leaning in his face, it was somewhat annoying.
Voices in Japanese. What were they saying? Another face was leaning into his, a bright light assaulted his eyes for a moment; one eye, then the other, then back to normal.
“Semi-conscious for the moment, not alert.”
“Breathing still shallow.”
A time delay usually occurred in audio communication over long distances. A broadcaster talks to a colleague overseas. The colleague pauses and smiles while he or she hears the question.
That was the paramedic speaking. Watari said something a second ago.
It didn’t matter. Just details.
-------
“Yes, he’s been caught; no lingering suspicions, no unanswered questions, it‘s final,” Aizawa said with another sigh. “We confronted him today and as of now he is…he is completely under our control; the whole situation to the best of our knowledge is contained. And no this isn’t like it was two months ago; this is completely settled, trust me on this.”
Ide couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “Completely under control” could have meant anything. He knew what Aizawa was going to ask him next and this conversation would lead to either a jail or a morgue.
“We need to combine efforts now, compare notes so this whole thing can get wrapped up once and for all,” Aizawa said. Ide swore he heard his voice crack.
Ide paused, putting the piece of steak in his mouth while he took a moment to process what he was hearing. Somehow something still didn’t seem right; this seemed too convenient.
“With all due respect Aizawa, is this your request or Ryuzaki’s,” Ide said before swallowing.
“I’ll be honest, he explicitly told me to call you and you alone,” Aizawa said, his tone grave. “But you’re going to have to take my word for it, this isn’t in any way one of his tricks. This is dead serious. We need you at Taskforce headquarters as soon as possible to help clean this up.”
“Aizawa, may I ask why Ryuzaki isn’t calling me himself and telling me this,” Ide said, taking up a wad of noodles and eating them.
He was not at all pleased with the pause.
---------
L just knew the ice water running through his veins. Now he was aching; a bad stomachache. That’s all it was.
Why did his wrist hurt.
A few more programs started. Video feed running. A bloody man grabbing another man by the collar with the last of his adrenaline.
“Aizawa, you’re in command. Lock away the notebooks and all scraps until further word from me or Watari. If I die, burn them and give Misa a sufficient story. Get Ide here as an extra hand.”
That was a while ago, a light-year ago.
He tasted blood with these words. There was no more blood he could see, but he smelt it. He smelt it with the cool plastic air he breathed now.
“I swear you are going to have some stories to tell after this.”
Did Watari’s voice just crack?
----------
“Look you are going to have to understand my position,” Ide said.
“I know, this just seems like some ploy to get you back into our end,” Aizawa said, his voice cracking again and sounding almost desperate. “I don’t blame you for being suspicious given who we’re working with. All I can tell you is Ryuzaki…Ryuzaki cannot call you at the moment and he delegated that task to me. Hideki you are going to have to trust me on this one.”
Ide swore he heard Aizawa let out a sob. Ide gently laid his chopsticks on the side of the bowl.
“Aizawa, what’s going on,” Ide said.
He heard a clearer sob, sounding like it disappeared into a sleeve.
--------
Information delay. Signal weakening.
“Pressure’s dropping.”
Notebooks.
Notebooks of death, Kira’s notebook, Light Yagami’s notebook.
Dead. Kira was dead. Light Yagami was dead.
He was too weak to smile. He just wanted to go to sleep. He just wanted to close his eyes.
“You should stay awake a little longer.”
Why was Watari’s voice cracking?
He didn’t want to stay awake. He just closed his eyes.
Why did Watari look helpless?
Entering sleep mode.
--------
“I can’t say anything over the phone, Hideki,“ Aizawa said, straining his voice to keep from all out tears. “It’s…saying it’s an emergency is an understatement. It’s a total mess over here and the more hands the better.”
“Okay, I’ll be in your direction soon,” Ide said, his body numb. “Half an hour tops.”
“That’s…that’s fine,” Aizawa said. It sounded as though he were near tears. “Call me in half an hour, I’ll give you our location.”
“Aizawa just give me some indication of what I‘m walking into,” Ide said.
“Nothing dangerous, the situation is as under control as it can be,” Aizawa said. “It’s a clusterfuck, that’s all I can say, but an after-the-fact one.”
“Okay, I’ll give you a call shortly,” Ide said.
The phone went back to its main menu, showing Aizawa abruptly hung up. Ide looked at his lunch for a moment, his appetite suddenly gone.
--------
12:30 p.m.
Another white ceiling. This one had air ducts and lighting; all moving by rapidly. Occasionally a white cap, a green shirt, or a stethoscope caught in the air would flash in his peripheral vision.
The IV bags were still there, one was now smaller and contained a thick red substance. How many of those had they gone through by now? What time was it? What did it matter; he was still alive.
He was alive and Light Yagami wasn’t.
The second group of paramedics treated him like another young man with cardiac arrest mixed with bullet wounds. There was going to be no resuscitation, there would be no resurrection for the self-styled savior. His otherworldly patron found him lacking; the false judge was judged himself, Robespierre’s head fell on his own guillotine and L watched behind the screen of his own rescuers.
He must have fallen unconscious at that point; allowed a moment of rest. That rest would not be eternal; impossible. So many other threads to tie up, so much other business. This was an unfortunate setback.
A female nurse leaned into his face, her fingers coming to the side of his mouth. An uncomfortable sensation shifted down his throat; a breathing tube. He only now noticed he was breathing, but was not making the effort.
“Can you hear me,” the nurse said.
He actually could. He actually registered what she was saying. He felt his neck move in response.
“Semi-conscious with some alertness,” she said over to her colleagues.
L swore he heard a few groans in relief.
“You are at Ibaraki Hospital,” the woman said, leaning back into his face. “There is a bullet still lodged in your abdominal cavity and we are going to get it out.”
Did she even know who she was speaking to? You’re speaking to the man who eliminated Kira.
L liked the sound of that, even if it was in his own head. Narcissistic yes, though he was allowed this much.
The wounded warrior parading with his caretakers, too weak to wave to those he saved. Naomi Misora was standing in the audience cheering, Raye Penbar clapping beside her. Even Beyond Birthday looked amused, was that a bow?
No, they weren’t here; they were on a side L was not going to go. Impossible. There was so much still to do.
“Pressure’s stabilized but still a little low.”
“He’s good enough to get into the OR and we‘ll let the surgical team make any decisions.”
That sounded promising.
His eyes were assaulted with a piercing glow of fluorescent light. The movement stopped; a new set of people rushed around him. He knew where he was; a familiar scenario.
A few green clad figures draped blue linens over him. A cold, stinging liquid rubbed over his midsection. He looked down, seeing a gloved hand apply a swap of yellow, antibacterial solution; trying to avoid the tightly taped gauze over the hole that was already overflowing with blood.
Another face leaned over his; a Japanese woman in full scrubs and hat wearing a mask.
“I’m just going to give you a shot through your IV and you will fall asleep very shortly.”
L looked to the side, the woman was already inserting the needle into an IV port.
This was the moment of anxiousness; the moment when he would go to sleep with no promise of awaking.
No, he had to wake. There was no question about it. He had to see this through to the end.
She slowly pushed down the plunger on the long vile. His skin tingled, lids growing heavy.
Misa’s words went through his foggy mind; a few simple sentences that could have been outright lies. Regardless, he decided to consider them truth; some measure of contentment in a black moment.
The fluorescent light faded as his eyes closed, he felt himself slowly drifting and then everything went black.
--------
1:23 p.m.
Aizawa pressed the stop button on the video feed when it ended.
Ide’s eyes remained on the now-black screen; he needed a second to process what he had just seen. He slowly turned back to Aizawa to see his colleague still in his chair and staring at the control panel with a grim, tired expression.
What words were there for this? Ide took a few breaths and rubbed his temples.
He didn’t want to look to his left, but the urge grew stronger. He wanted to remind himself the creature he saw after touching the Death Note was real and not just a one-time trick of the imagination.
This was a big reason why he didn’t want to touch the damn notebook in the first place. The Chief saw a monster, so did everyone else. There were too many witnesses saying the same things at one moment for this to be a hoax and the story too consistent for it to be a product of some hallucinogen. There was a Shinigami there, everyone said so, Ide was willing to take their word for it. He wasn’t in the Taskforce, he had no need to see for himself, there were a thousand different legitimate reasons why he didn‘t touch the notebook; the fact he would rather not have was the ultimate one.
The situation was different now, Ide understood that when he stepped into the hallway for the first time and saw the line of blood droplets on the gray linoleum. When the doors opened to the main control room, the cluster Aizawa referred to over the phone was in plain view.
Ide almost felt guilty for not being here. He wanted to see the final moment, he wanted to be with his comrades when all hell broke loose. Could he have prevented this? No, he couldn’t give himself that kind of responsibility. The rope frayed and broke, it only seemed inevitable.
He was involved now; the case was over, Kira was exposed, L was on death watch, there was no room now for separate angles and self-preservation. It had all come to a head and his only place was here.
That’s why he touched both notebooks; he was a part of this now. Aizawa knew this too, that was why he got them out of the thick safe after giving the bulk of his briefing. They would be necessary for understanding the calamity he was about to see on the security tape.
Ide slowly looked over, seeing that hideous white face and black grin just a meter away from him. It looked at him in curiosity, possibly waiting for him to scream. No, Ide now realized this was a sight he was already used to. This thing wasn’t that horrific to look at, like some kind of morbid doll. The thing that really creeped Ide out now was he had just witnessed this thing murder someone and couldn’t really slap cuffs on it.
It was a Shinigami; Shinigami embodied death. This thing wasn’t a murderer, it was an executioner. Someone in a uniform under a noose would have done the same thing in…days, months, years? However long the courts or the government allowed Kira…allowed Light Yagami to live.
Maybe Chief Yagami’s son would have been given some leniency for his reputation; a life sentence away from the hardened prison population, just do something with him and make it quiet. An ironic twist on Yagami junior’s apparent “kill them all” philosophy on criminals. Perhaps L would want him shoved away in a hole for the rest of his life. Maybe they would have locked him in a psych ward; that screeching cackle clawed long scars into Ide’s brain.
The fact Light Yagami was Kira was another fact Ide tried to keep out of his head until he was grounded enough to realize what that meant. There were no lingering doubts now, no whispers, no “What are the chances that…” The presentation of facts felt like a gangbang.
Ide looked back over at Aizawa, seeing him still gazing at the wall and cupping his face in his hands. Ide could not imagine what was going through his head right now.
Ide’s eyes wandered back to the pool of blood on the floor. He never met L in real life, but he saw his blood in living color; still wet in the center yet drying on the edges. It was an irony deserving of an uneasy laugh that never happened. His gaze trailed to the red spatters across the linoleum. The entire center of the floor was covered in blood dotted with a few shell casings while a mess of spent bullets were farther away. The one .38 revolver still sat on the floor by the right wall. It was the calm after the storm.
He looked up again at the Shinigami, a sight that ceased to scare him. There were more human horrors in the room right now, this was almost a distraction.
“Aizawa, where are the others,” Ide managed to choke out while looking back at Aizawa.
Aizawa stood a little straighter and took a deep breath.
“I’ll show you,” he said.
Ide took a few careful steps closer to the controls, practically tip-toeing around the edge of Ryuzaki’s blood pool. Aizawa pushed a few buttons and looked at the screens. One image came into view of a hallway and Mogi pacing up and down with the occasional pause like a security guard making the rounds.
“Misa and Matsuda are in two of those rooms,” Aizawa said.
“Suicide watch?” Ide said with a sigh.
Aizawa didn’t reply. He pushed another button, pulling up a screen of what looked like a hotel suite. Matsuda was lying face first on a couch, arms in a death lock around an overstuffed pillow in which he practically buried his face. His head would occasionally turn to show red cheeks and a mess of tears.
Aizawa pressed another button to reveal another room. The first thing Ide noticed was the white Shinigami he saw in the video. It was sitting on the floor, Misa’s arms were wrapped around its bony waist and she leaned her face against its ribcage-like chest sobbing. Ide heard indecipherable wails over the audio that made his stomach drop a little more. The Shinigami was actually embracing her, one claw-like hand patting her head and the other gently rubbing her back.
“The Chief and Watari are probably at the hospital, if not the morgue,” Aizawa said. “I’m getting a little anxious for some phone call.”
Aizawa pressed another button and cut the feed. An uncomfortable silence filled the room.
“Where do we go from here,” Ide said. “Ryuzaki put you in charge, what’s your take.”
Ide was not thrilled with another round of silence, but he could hear Aizawa shifting in his seat.
“Wait and see,” Aizawa said. “Kira is supposedly contained; Light’s dead, Misa’s under watch, we have the notebooks and the Shinigami right here. The only call I can make right now is watch the feeds and see if any more names pop up. As for the rest, wait until the dust settles.”
Ide nodded.
“Just how the hell are we going to handle this,” Ide said. “What comes next?”
“I don’t even want to think about that now,” Aizawa said. “All I want is some word from the Chief and something definitive on Ryuzaki’s status before I can even think of the next step.”
Ide looked again at the Shinigami.
“If that next step includes some apples, I would be greatly appreciative,” the creature said.
Ide’s mind went blank. A nervous chuckle managed to sneak out; this was so absurd it was funny.
“How do you like your apples,” Ide asked.
Three high-pitched tone sounded from the control panel. The screens turned white and a large W appeared. Ide turned heel around. Aizawa slid down to Ryuzaki’s usual place, one finger poised to press the button though he paused for a moment before opening the connection.
“Hello Watari,” Aizawa said.
“Aizawa-san, has Ide-san arrived yet,” Watari said, voice in it’s usual soft, businesslike tone.
“I got here about 45 minutes ago,” Ide said.
“Good, welcome to our headquarters,” Watari said. “I have a preliminary update on Ryuzaki. He went into surgery nearly an hour ago. All we know is the bullet ruptured his spleen and caused some damage to his stomach. There is a possibility it may have clipped a major vein in his midsection, but that has yet to be determined. His condition is critical, though he appears stable for the time being. I will give more updates as I receive them.”
Aizawa and Ide exchanged an uneasy glance.
“Has there been any word from Chief Yagami,” Watari asked.
Ide’s blood ran cold with the question, Aizawa’s shiver indicating the same thing.
“Nothing as of yet,” Aizawa said. “We were actually hoping to hear something from you as you two seem to be in the same general location.”
The audio went silent for a moment. Aizawa and Ide exchanged another glance, Aizawa closing his eyes and sighing.
“Unfortunately I have not,” Watari said, voice still perfectly calm. “I will let you know if I do hear from him, and I would appreciate any word if you receive it.”
“We definitely will if we hear anything,” Aizawa said.
“Good,” Watari said. “In the meantime conduct as much business as you need to there. If you prefer, we do have a cleaning staff on call that is completely trustworthy and experienced in handling these types of jobs. If you have need of their services, let me know and they can be there in less than half an hour.”
Ide stared at the screen in disbelief, but this wasn’t exactly a surprise. He heard the Shinigami chuckle a little behind him. Aizawa shook his head a little and rubbed his temples.
“They will follow any specific instruction you give them,” Watari said.
“I will let you know when we have need of such a service,” Aizawa said. “We will need to take care of some business on our end first.”
“Understood.”
“Watari, give my best to Ryuzaki,” Aizawa said. “Ide sends his regards as well.”
Ide nodded. The audio went silent again for a moment.
“Thank you, they are much appreciated,” Watari said, his voice sounding a little breathier. “I will contact you with any updates.”
The W disappeared from the screen and the monitors went black.
Chapter: Prologue, 1, 2, 3, 4
Rating: R
Summary: On November 5, 2004, L saw the trap Light set with Misa and Rem and narrowly sidestepped it. What followed was a series of plans to expose Light as Kira and turn a key tool against him, though escaping the specter of death would be a difficult proposition.
Characters: Ide, Aizawa, L, Watari, brief appearances by Mogi, Matsuda, Misa, Rem, and Ryuk and references to Soichiro, Light, Higuchi, and some old ghosts.
Word Count: 3,914
Warnings: Graphic descriptions of gunshot wounds and a couple off-color phrases.
Disclaimer: Death Note and recognizable characters belong to Ohba/Obata.
Author's Note: And now we return to the present time for a little while. These little time skips will happen, though they shouldn't reveal too much of my evil plotting. Just a little kindasortanotreally preview.
Best Laid Plans
Chapter 4: After the fiasco, developing story
January 28, 2005
Tokyo
12:23 p.m.
Ide moved his newspaper for the steaming bowl of sliced steak and noodles the waitress put in front of him with a cordial “Here you are, sir.”
He gave a nod in thanks, eyes going directly for the bowl as he picked up his chopsticks. He had them positioned in his fingers right when a low ring emitted from his jacket pocket.
Ide rolled his eyes and took out his phone, chopsticks taking hold of a strip of steak. Whoever was calling him would have to endure him eating during the conversation; politeness be damned, he was starving.
He flipped open the phone, Aizawa’s cell phone number on display as he put it to his ear. What was this about?
“Ide,” he said.
“Ide, it’s Aizawa,” Aizawa said on the other end through a profound sigh. “I can’t say much over the phone so bear with me. I’ll just start by saying there has been a massive breakthrough in the case.”
The case. That only meant one thing.
Three months ago, the night Kyosuke Higuchi was killed, Aizawa returned to the Taskforce under L; returning to work with the Chief, Light, Matsuda, and Mogi. Aizawa directly took part in Higuchi’s arrest and touched the notebook in his briefcase that supposedly showed a Shinigami.
Ide stayed behind; someone had to manage the police and continue the investigation outside of L’s authority. L himself even called him a day after Higuchi’s death, the usual electronically masked voice offering him a place on the Taskforce. He refused, sparing no details of his reasoning nor any criticism. L politely said he respected his wishes, saying he would allow any member of the Taskforce to share details should he decide to get involved. There was almost a lingering threat that he could call him into assist at any moment. Since then he hadn’t heard from anyone in the Taskforce; a ringing declaration to him that L, or Ryuzaki as everyone referred to him as, wasn’t sharing a damn thing outside the Taskforce…or at least wasn’t sharing until he needed a favor.
Ide also refused to touch the notebook. He considered himself a pretty open-minded individual; open-minded enough to know there were things not of this world he would rather not get into unless he had to. This was one detail he would rather leave to the Taskforce and not get sucked into, stay on the sidelines as a neutral third party. It almost felt like touching the notebook and seeing any creature was a type of contract, whether spiritual or otherwise. Touching the notebook could also have been L’s leverage to pull him in regardless of the actual ramifications.
“Ide, it’s over and it‘s an absolute mess,” Aizawa said.
Somehow his chopsticks stayed in his fingers. Over?
Ide took a careful look around the restaurant to see no one remotely interested in his conversation; just the usual lunchtime crowd minding their own food and business.
“He’s been caught?” Ide whispered.
The pause over the phone told him everything.
--------
L only now realized his eyes were open.
A white ceiling was a deceptive image, though his brain now registered the man in a uniform and helmet leaning over him and the IV bags in his peripheral vision.
The labels were turned to the other side; Lactated Ringers probably. He was pleased he was able to remember that information.
A computer boots up, it goes through a normal system of checks as all of its programs load one by one. The drive had obvious errors, but was going through its start-up sequence regardless.
The wail of a siren and electronic beep of a heart monitor cut through the ringing in his ears. The paramedics were talking. What they were saying wasn’t clear.
“Are you going to be sticking around for a little bit?”
That voice came from the side. It sounded familiar.
Why was Watari so close to him? He was practically leaning in his face, it was somewhat annoying.
Voices in Japanese. What were they saying? Another face was leaning into his, a bright light assaulted his eyes for a moment; one eye, then the other, then back to normal.
“Semi-conscious for the moment, not alert.”
“Breathing still shallow.”
A time delay usually occurred in audio communication over long distances. A broadcaster talks to a colleague overseas. The colleague pauses and smiles while he or she hears the question.
That was the paramedic speaking. Watari said something a second ago.
It didn’t matter. Just details.
-------
“Yes, he’s been caught; no lingering suspicions, no unanswered questions, it‘s final,” Aizawa said with another sigh. “We confronted him today and as of now he is…he is completely under our control; the whole situation to the best of our knowledge is contained. And no this isn’t like it was two months ago; this is completely settled, trust me on this.”
Ide couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “Completely under control” could have meant anything. He knew what Aizawa was going to ask him next and this conversation would lead to either a jail or a morgue.
“We need to combine efforts now, compare notes so this whole thing can get wrapped up once and for all,” Aizawa said. Ide swore he heard his voice crack.
Ide paused, putting the piece of steak in his mouth while he took a moment to process what he was hearing. Somehow something still didn’t seem right; this seemed too convenient.
“With all due respect Aizawa, is this your request or Ryuzaki’s,” Ide said before swallowing.
“I’ll be honest, he explicitly told me to call you and you alone,” Aizawa said, his tone grave. “But you’re going to have to take my word for it, this isn’t in any way one of his tricks. This is dead serious. We need you at Taskforce headquarters as soon as possible to help clean this up.”
“Aizawa, may I ask why Ryuzaki isn’t calling me himself and telling me this,” Ide said, taking up a wad of noodles and eating them.
He was not at all pleased with the pause.
---------
L just knew the ice water running through his veins. Now he was aching; a bad stomachache. That’s all it was.
Why did his wrist hurt.
A few more programs started. Video feed running. A bloody man grabbing another man by the collar with the last of his adrenaline.
“Aizawa, you’re in command. Lock away the notebooks and all scraps until further word from me or Watari. If I die, burn them and give Misa a sufficient story. Get Ide here as an extra hand.”
That was a while ago, a light-year ago.
He tasted blood with these words. There was no more blood he could see, but he smelt it. He smelt it with the cool plastic air he breathed now.
“I swear you are going to have some stories to tell after this.”
Did Watari’s voice just crack?
----------
“Look you are going to have to understand my position,” Ide said.
“I know, this just seems like some ploy to get you back into our end,” Aizawa said, his voice cracking again and sounding almost desperate. “I don’t blame you for being suspicious given who we’re working with. All I can tell you is Ryuzaki…Ryuzaki cannot call you at the moment and he delegated that task to me. Hideki you are going to have to trust me on this one.”
Ide swore he heard Aizawa let out a sob. Ide gently laid his chopsticks on the side of the bowl.
“Aizawa, what’s going on,” Ide said.
He heard a clearer sob, sounding like it disappeared into a sleeve.
--------
Information delay. Signal weakening.
“Pressure’s dropping.”
Notebooks.
Notebooks of death, Kira’s notebook, Light Yagami’s notebook.
Dead. Kira was dead. Light Yagami was dead.
He was too weak to smile. He just wanted to go to sleep. He just wanted to close his eyes.
“You should stay awake a little longer.”
Why was Watari’s voice cracking?
He didn’t want to stay awake. He just closed his eyes.
Why did Watari look helpless?
Entering sleep mode.
--------
“I can’t say anything over the phone, Hideki,“ Aizawa said, straining his voice to keep from all out tears. “It’s…saying it’s an emergency is an understatement. It’s a total mess over here and the more hands the better.”
“Okay, I’ll be in your direction soon,” Ide said, his body numb. “Half an hour tops.”
“That’s…that’s fine,” Aizawa said. It sounded as though he were near tears. “Call me in half an hour, I’ll give you our location.”
“Aizawa just give me some indication of what I‘m walking into,” Ide said.
“Nothing dangerous, the situation is as under control as it can be,” Aizawa said. “It’s a clusterfuck, that’s all I can say, but an after-the-fact one.”
“Okay, I’ll give you a call shortly,” Ide said.
The phone went back to its main menu, showing Aizawa abruptly hung up. Ide looked at his lunch for a moment, his appetite suddenly gone.
--------
12:30 p.m.
Another white ceiling. This one had air ducts and lighting; all moving by rapidly. Occasionally a white cap, a green shirt, or a stethoscope caught in the air would flash in his peripheral vision.
The IV bags were still there, one was now smaller and contained a thick red substance. How many of those had they gone through by now? What time was it? What did it matter; he was still alive.
He was alive and Light Yagami wasn’t.
The second group of paramedics treated him like another young man with cardiac arrest mixed with bullet wounds. There was going to be no resuscitation, there would be no resurrection for the self-styled savior. His otherworldly patron found him lacking; the false judge was judged himself, Robespierre’s head fell on his own guillotine and L watched behind the screen of his own rescuers.
He must have fallen unconscious at that point; allowed a moment of rest. That rest would not be eternal; impossible. So many other threads to tie up, so much other business. This was an unfortunate setback.
A female nurse leaned into his face, her fingers coming to the side of his mouth. An uncomfortable sensation shifted down his throat; a breathing tube. He only now noticed he was breathing, but was not making the effort.
“Can you hear me,” the nurse said.
He actually could. He actually registered what she was saying. He felt his neck move in response.
“Semi-conscious with some alertness,” she said over to her colleagues.
L swore he heard a few groans in relief.
“You are at Ibaraki Hospital,” the woman said, leaning back into his face. “There is a bullet still lodged in your abdominal cavity and we are going to get it out.”
Did she even know who she was speaking to? You’re speaking to the man who eliminated Kira.
L liked the sound of that, even if it was in his own head. Narcissistic yes, though he was allowed this much.
The wounded warrior parading with his caretakers, too weak to wave to those he saved. Naomi Misora was standing in the audience cheering, Raye Penbar clapping beside her. Even Beyond Birthday looked amused, was that a bow?
No, they weren’t here; they were on a side L was not going to go. Impossible. There was so much still to do.
“Pressure’s stabilized but still a little low.”
“He’s good enough to get into the OR and we‘ll let the surgical team make any decisions.”
That sounded promising.
His eyes were assaulted with a piercing glow of fluorescent light. The movement stopped; a new set of people rushed around him. He knew where he was; a familiar scenario.
A few green clad figures draped blue linens over him. A cold, stinging liquid rubbed over his midsection. He looked down, seeing a gloved hand apply a swap of yellow, antibacterial solution; trying to avoid the tightly taped gauze over the hole that was already overflowing with blood.
Another face leaned over his; a Japanese woman in full scrubs and hat wearing a mask.
“I’m just going to give you a shot through your IV and you will fall asleep very shortly.”
L looked to the side, the woman was already inserting the needle into an IV port.
This was the moment of anxiousness; the moment when he would go to sleep with no promise of awaking.
No, he had to wake. There was no question about it. He had to see this through to the end.
She slowly pushed down the plunger on the long vile. His skin tingled, lids growing heavy.
Misa’s words went through his foggy mind; a few simple sentences that could have been outright lies. Regardless, he decided to consider them truth; some measure of contentment in a black moment.
The fluorescent light faded as his eyes closed, he felt himself slowly drifting and then everything went black.
--------
1:23 p.m.
Aizawa pressed the stop button on the video feed when it ended.
Ide’s eyes remained on the now-black screen; he needed a second to process what he had just seen. He slowly turned back to Aizawa to see his colleague still in his chair and staring at the control panel with a grim, tired expression.
What words were there for this? Ide took a few breaths and rubbed his temples.
He didn’t want to look to his left, but the urge grew stronger. He wanted to remind himself the creature he saw after touching the Death Note was real and not just a one-time trick of the imagination.
This was a big reason why he didn’t want to touch the damn notebook in the first place. The Chief saw a monster, so did everyone else. There were too many witnesses saying the same things at one moment for this to be a hoax and the story too consistent for it to be a product of some hallucinogen. There was a Shinigami there, everyone said so, Ide was willing to take their word for it. He wasn’t in the Taskforce, he had no need to see for himself, there were a thousand different legitimate reasons why he didn‘t touch the notebook; the fact he would rather not have was the ultimate one.
The situation was different now, Ide understood that when he stepped into the hallway for the first time and saw the line of blood droplets on the gray linoleum. When the doors opened to the main control room, the cluster Aizawa referred to over the phone was in plain view.
Ide almost felt guilty for not being here. He wanted to see the final moment, he wanted to be with his comrades when all hell broke loose. Could he have prevented this? No, he couldn’t give himself that kind of responsibility. The rope frayed and broke, it only seemed inevitable.
He was involved now; the case was over, Kira was exposed, L was on death watch, there was no room now for separate angles and self-preservation. It had all come to a head and his only place was here.
That’s why he touched both notebooks; he was a part of this now. Aizawa knew this too, that was why he got them out of the thick safe after giving the bulk of his briefing. They would be necessary for understanding the calamity he was about to see on the security tape.
Ide slowly looked over, seeing that hideous white face and black grin just a meter away from him. It looked at him in curiosity, possibly waiting for him to scream. No, Ide now realized this was a sight he was already used to. This thing wasn’t that horrific to look at, like some kind of morbid doll. The thing that really creeped Ide out now was he had just witnessed this thing murder someone and couldn’t really slap cuffs on it.
It was a Shinigami; Shinigami embodied death. This thing wasn’t a murderer, it was an executioner. Someone in a uniform under a noose would have done the same thing in…days, months, years? However long the courts or the government allowed Kira…allowed Light Yagami to live.
Maybe Chief Yagami’s son would have been given some leniency for his reputation; a life sentence away from the hardened prison population, just do something with him and make it quiet. An ironic twist on Yagami junior’s apparent “kill them all” philosophy on criminals. Perhaps L would want him shoved away in a hole for the rest of his life. Maybe they would have locked him in a psych ward; that screeching cackle clawed long scars into Ide’s brain.
The fact Light Yagami was Kira was another fact Ide tried to keep out of his head until he was grounded enough to realize what that meant. There were no lingering doubts now, no whispers, no “What are the chances that…” The presentation of facts felt like a gangbang.
Ide looked back over at Aizawa, seeing him still gazing at the wall and cupping his face in his hands. Ide could not imagine what was going through his head right now.
Ide’s eyes wandered back to the pool of blood on the floor. He never met L in real life, but he saw his blood in living color; still wet in the center yet drying on the edges. It was an irony deserving of an uneasy laugh that never happened. His gaze trailed to the red spatters across the linoleum. The entire center of the floor was covered in blood dotted with a few shell casings while a mess of spent bullets were farther away. The one .38 revolver still sat on the floor by the right wall. It was the calm after the storm.
He looked up again at the Shinigami, a sight that ceased to scare him. There were more human horrors in the room right now, this was almost a distraction.
“Aizawa, where are the others,” Ide managed to choke out while looking back at Aizawa.
Aizawa stood a little straighter and took a deep breath.
“I’ll show you,” he said.
Ide took a few careful steps closer to the controls, practically tip-toeing around the edge of Ryuzaki’s blood pool. Aizawa pushed a few buttons and looked at the screens. One image came into view of a hallway and Mogi pacing up and down with the occasional pause like a security guard making the rounds.
“Misa and Matsuda are in two of those rooms,” Aizawa said.
“Suicide watch?” Ide said with a sigh.
Aizawa didn’t reply. He pushed another button, pulling up a screen of what looked like a hotel suite. Matsuda was lying face first on a couch, arms in a death lock around an overstuffed pillow in which he practically buried his face. His head would occasionally turn to show red cheeks and a mess of tears.
Aizawa pressed another button to reveal another room. The first thing Ide noticed was the white Shinigami he saw in the video. It was sitting on the floor, Misa’s arms were wrapped around its bony waist and she leaned her face against its ribcage-like chest sobbing. Ide heard indecipherable wails over the audio that made his stomach drop a little more. The Shinigami was actually embracing her, one claw-like hand patting her head and the other gently rubbing her back.
“The Chief and Watari are probably at the hospital, if not the morgue,” Aizawa said. “I’m getting a little anxious for some phone call.”
Aizawa pressed another button and cut the feed. An uncomfortable silence filled the room.
“Where do we go from here,” Ide said. “Ryuzaki put you in charge, what’s your take.”
Ide was not thrilled with another round of silence, but he could hear Aizawa shifting in his seat.
“Wait and see,” Aizawa said. “Kira is supposedly contained; Light’s dead, Misa’s under watch, we have the notebooks and the Shinigami right here. The only call I can make right now is watch the feeds and see if any more names pop up. As for the rest, wait until the dust settles.”
Ide nodded.
“Just how the hell are we going to handle this,” Ide said. “What comes next?”
“I don’t even want to think about that now,” Aizawa said. “All I want is some word from the Chief and something definitive on Ryuzaki’s status before I can even think of the next step.”
Ide looked again at the Shinigami.
“If that next step includes some apples, I would be greatly appreciative,” the creature said.
Ide’s mind went blank. A nervous chuckle managed to sneak out; this was so absurd it was funny.
“How do you like your apples,” Ide asked.
Three high-pitched tone sounded from the control panel. The screens turned white and a large W appeared. Ide turned heel around. Aizawa slid down to Ryuzaki’s usual place, one finger poised to press the button though he paused for a moment before opening the connection.
“Hello Watari,” Aizawa said.
“Aizawa-san, has Ide-san arrived yet,” Watari said, voice in it’s usual soft, businesslike tone.
“I got here about 45 minutes ago,” Ide said.
“Good, welcome to our headquarters,” Watari said. “I have a preliminary update on Ryuzaki. He went into surgery nearly an hour ago. All we know is the bullet ruptured his spleen and caused some damage to his stomach. There is a possibility it may have clipped a major vein in his midsection, but that has yet to be determined. His condition is critical, though he appears stable for the time being. I will give more updates as I receive them.”
Aizawa and Ide exchanged an uneasy glance.
“Has there been any word from Chief Yagami,” Watari asked.
Ide’s blood ran cold with the question, Aizawa’s shiver indicating the same thing.
“Nothing as of yet,” Aizawa said. “We were actually hoping to hear something from you as you two seem to be in the same general location.”
The audio went silent for a moment. Aizawa and Ide exchanged another glance, Aizawa closing his eyes and sighing.
“Unfortunately I have not,” Watari said, voice still perfectly calm. “I will let you know if I do hear from him, and I would appreciate any word if you receive it.”
“We definitely will if we hear anything,” Aizawa said.
“Good,” Watari said. “In the meantime conduct as much business as you need to there. If you prefer, we do have a cleaning staff on call that is completely trustworthy and experienced in handling these types of jobs. If you have need of their services, let me know and they can be there in less than half an hour.”
Ide stared at the screen in disbelief, but this wasn’t exactly a surprise. He heard the Shinigami chuckle a little behind him. Aizawa shook his head a little and rubbed his temples.
“They will follow any specific instruction you give them,” Watari said.
“I will let you know when we have need of such a service,” Aizawa said. “We will need to take care of some business on our end first.”
“Understood.”
“Watari, give my best to Ryuzaki,” Aizawa said. “Ide sends his regards as well.”
Ide nodded. The audio went silent again for a moment.
“Thank you, they are much appreciated,” Watari said, his voice sounding a little breathier. “I will contact you with any updates.”
The W disappeared from the screen and the monitors went black.