Disclaimer: I wish I owned Death Note.
Chibi Misa: Omigee! A Death Note fanfic!
Me: Yep! My second fanfic! Since my first one's going so well, I figured I'd write a fanfiction about my second and current obsession, Death Note.
Chibi Misa: This idea came to our beloved Swirl at about twelve thirty on the night before Christmas Eve.
Me: Eh, yeah. Pretty much. And it devoured my break.
Chibi Misa: Which is good!
Me: Totally. I'm an obsessive writer. Which is why I love reviews! Especially long fluffy ones. They're cuddly.
Chibi Misa: So make Swirly happy and she just might give you an update.
Me: Huzzah! Well, you've heard-
Chibi Raito: Or read.
Me: Too much of me and my fellow chibi companions. I'll bet you want to read that fanfic you clicked on the link to read, yes? Well, read, review, and relax.
D S 1
Somewhere in the vast, incomprehensible, inconceivable expanse of the universe, somewhere among infinite glittering stars and stark black voids, somewhere, somehow, someone leaned back in his swivel chair.
One could only make so many conjectures as to what caused that yawn. L knew. He'd thought of every last one of them.
The fact of the matter was, he was bored. It was the same day after day. He'd take a cold shower, eat a breakfast of what tasted an awful lot like wood shavings, sulk for an hour, and then get an e-mail from He-Who-Must-Remain-Anonymous, explaining to him that he had exactly twenty four hours to retrieve the soul of the human whose name was enclosed.
Yes, L was a god of death. At least he liked to think himself to be. In reality, he was called a psychopomp. Strange name, he knew. It made him sound like a prison inmate. Hence his tendency to call himself a god of death instead.
A psychopomp was, by definition, a being who assisted the soul's transcending from the human world into the spiritual one. Heaven, Hell, Shangri-la, Nirvana, Las Vegas, take your pick. In short, he was a mini-death.
There used to be a Great Death, a Kira. Things in general were much more interesting when he was around. He was originally human, as all Deaths were, but L didn't feel like reciting the details of his coming to Kira-dom. That Kira was long gone. He'd read in the newspaper eons ago that Kira died.
He choked on a muffin.
What a way to go. Choked on a chocolate-blueberry muffin and died. In short, his death was nothing special. Nothing too exciting. It was very boring. Very adequate.
Everything in this world was adequate.
L childishly huffed and rolled his eyes.
He hated adequate.
Most humans would expect the realm of the psychopomp to be all fire and brimstone (what, with them being death gods of a sort). Someone being burned alive here, someone being pulled apart there. But it wasn't like that at all. As a matter of fact, L had voted at every one of the past seven hundred and twenty four task force meetings to make it more 'fire and brimstone.' The way things used to be.
To no avail. It was a bureaucracy. Everything had to be done a certain way. There were rules too. Too many to possibly follow correctly. Everything was stacked up in neat, orderly, manila files in beige filing cabinets. All houses were exactly the same color, shape, and style. And, everything, was, separated, by, neat, little, commas.
You know, just to keep everything in order.
L yawned again and nodded in front of his computer screen. He was tired for the sake of being tired. Perhaps he could drink something to wake him up. Then he took one look at the forlorn cup of lukewarm, black coffee sitting at the corner of his desk and decided that life was meaningless.
Suddenly, something slightly less boring happened.
A yellow envelope icon appeared in the corner of the monitor and an ordinary little jingle sounded.
L had mail.
He clicked on the icon and something slightly more boring happened. He had one unread e-mail message from The Man Upstairs.
Just like yesterday.
And the day before that and the day before that and the day before that…
Whatever. It wasn't going to do him any good sitting there and thinking of a thousand ways not to read his e-mail.
L clicked on the icon
L saw nothing awe-inspiring about that. His eyes skimmed the short profile of this 'Raito Yagami' character. Maybe he shouldn't have. It would've been much more amusing if L had been left to figure out all this information by himself. Regardless, he read further. He was notified of where this human lived, what he liked, who his friends were, and what he looked like, but…
Something was missing. Normally, the e-mail would immediately specify to what domain the person's soul would be delivered. Maybe he was an atheist, in which case L would simply take his soul out of his body and it would go where ever it damn well pleased.
That was probably the case.
He read on until he came upon yet another interesting piece of information.
Odd. L was only supposed to cater to the deaths of old people. Natural causes and all.
Maybe Yagami had some sort of degenerative disease. No. That wasn't in L's field.
Boy, was he a really old college student. No. That didn't fit in either. According to the description included in the message, he was five foot nine and still had light brown-red hair.
L found himself getting excited.
Finally, something unpredictable! Normally, L would stay as far away from the unpredictable as he could. The popular lifestyle had rubbed off on him. However, he supposed that it was good to have a surprise every once in a millennia.
He skimmed the e-mail once more before closing the window and shutting his computer down. Feeling refreshed, he stretched his arms behind his back and sighed pleasantly.
Time to get to work.
He decided to take the bus home.
He didn't know why. He was quite capable of walking. Perhaps he was tired. That wasn't good, especially considering the immense amount of homework he'd accumulated throughout the day. And he had a test tomorrow.
He was Raito Yagami.
Of course he could manage.
He stepped off the bus when the time came.
Then it started to rain. Raito sighed, hefting his backpack over his head and trekking onward. He only had two blocks to go. He'd be fine if it didn't start pouring.
It started pouring.
Raito took a moment to glare at the sky. The day certainly wasn't turning out as he'd wanted.
Raito broke into a run when his hands got cold. Since when did things get this bad? The news that morning predicted sunny skies all day, but so far the sky had been overcast and now it was raining. Raito knew he shouldn't have trusted the forecast. He splashed through a puddle and into the street.
"Hey!" someone yelled off to Raito's left. He snapped to the side to be greeted head-on by the blinding glare of a halogen motorcycle headlight. Its rider, who he couldn't see at the moment because he was blind, continued to swear at him. Raito only growled and gave the cyclist the evil eye. He thought about flipping him off, but that was too much.
Raito left him alone.
The cyclist sped off, still harping at him. Judging from his voice, he smoked too much. Raito wondered if he'd been out drinking too. Raito sighed to himself.
When did humankind get so stupid? Better yet, what was he doing complaining about it? As much as he would've liked to, Raito couldn't lift a finger against it. If he could choose who lived and who died, he might've considered taking action.
Raito laughed to himself as a big, wet drop of water dripped off of his hair and onto his nose. That would be the day. Yagami Raito, Angel of Death.
With that, the Angel of Death sprinted up the street because his jacket was getting soaked.
When he walked in the door, Raito was dripping wet.
"Nii-san!" came a familiar squeal from the kitchen. Not long after, Raito was pounced upon by a very happy younger sister.
"Hey, Sayu," he said, pulling one of the brunette pigtails on her head.
"Did mister genius have a good day in school today?" Sayu winked and yanked her captive pigtail out of Raito's fingers. Then, she made a face at him like she'd just gotten a whiff of something that had been dead a few weeks. "Aww, Raito," she whined, "you're all wet!"
"It's raining," Raito stated as-a-matter-of-factly, "that's what happens when it rains. People get wet."
"That doesn't change the fact that you're wet," his sister argued.
"Are you going to change that?" he asked rhetorically.
"Mom's in the dining room. She'll do it for me."
"I baked cookies."
"I can smell them."
"You smell like dog," said Sayu.
And Raito let it slide.
He had a slightly more agreeable greeting from his mother, who patted him on the back, smiled, frowned, and then told him that if he didn't change clothes he'd catch a cold. Raito told her that he would and her scrunched, wrinkled old face lit up in a smile. She said something along the lines of 'that's my Raito,' and whistled herself into the kitchen.
When Raito reached his room, he dropped his backpack onto the floor and fell onto his bed with a thud.
And he did it gracefully, by God.
The ride-walk-run-race to his house combined with the added bonus of one flight of stairs had taken a considerable amount of energy. Which was strange. Was he out of shape? Perhaps he should play more tennis.
Or perhaps he was just anxious because of the test he had tomorrow.
It didn't make much sense, since Raito knew he'd pass it with flying colors anyway. He stuck with that reason though. He was anxious because of his test.
That was all.
He decided to put on a new shirt. His previous shirt was getting itchy and uncomfortable from all the rainwater it had soaked up. He pulled the offending khaki-colored cotton shirt over his head and replaced it with a green knit sweater. Then, Raito yawned, got comfortable, and dozed for twenty minutes.
He didn't have a lot to do lately.
Except his homework.
Raito propped the upper half of his body up on one arm and peered over the side of his bed at his backpack. Deciding that he was much too tired to be productive, he flopped back down and left it alone.
It felt so good to close his eyes. Despite having nothing to do, Raito always felt that he was so busy. Such was the stress of being the number one student in his class. He'd heard he had the highest grades in Japan a few times. As much as he would've liked to believe it, it was impossible. There was always going to be someone more intelligent than him.
Someone more influential.
Raito blew a puff of air at his bangs.
Someone knocked on Raito's door. Just then, his nap ended. "Raito? You want a cookie?" It was Sayu. Of course, Raito couldn't resist.
"Sure," he mumbled, "come in."
He was still laying on his stomach on top of his bed when Sayu bounced in carrying a plate of cookies. Raito arched one graceful eyebrow when he noticed that she was hiding something else behind her back.
He didn't mention anything until she had already set the cookies down on his desk.
Lest she steal them back or something.
"What do you have there?" he hinted, pointing to the arm that was currently hidden behind her back. Sayu smiled bashfully and blushed a shade of light pink. "Raito," she began, "could you help me with my homework?" she held out her green math textbook.
Raito grinned. Sayu was his sister. He was her all-knowing, all-seeing college student brother. It was only right that he should help her. He weighed the pros and cons of her proposition before beckoning her over. She smiled, got herself to half-running start, and leapt onto his bed. The pillows and Raito all bounced a few inches.
"So what do you need help with this time?" he asked Sayu once she had wriggled her way over to him. She dropped her book down in front of her and flipped it open. "Quadratic equations," she giggled nervously.
"Again?" Raito scoffed.
"Well they're really difficult!" Said Sayu with a huff of indignation.
Raito sighed. "Sure. What do you need help with?"
"All of it."
And that was how he, Raito Yagami, straight A student, spent the remainder of his evening.
After repeating the same problem for her for about, oh, the thirty fifth time, she thanked him before bouncing out of the room in the exact way she had come.
With no idea what she was doing.
Raito was comfortable leaving her in her state of ignorant bliss. She'd get the hang of it sooner or later.
He'd just started his own homework when his mom called him down for dinner.
Just his luck.
He closed his notebook as quickly as he had opened it and headed for the dining room.
Raito sighed. The same thing happened every single day of the week. He went to school, came home, helped his sister with her homework, ate dinner, did his own homework, took a shower, and went to sleep. It was all very…
To say the least.
Even the test that he was supposedly so anxious for was predictable. In short, Raito wouldn't be surprised if he died of boredom.
He ate dinner, which had suddenly become so bland due to his train of thought that he forgot what it was. After that, he hauled himself back up the stairs and forced himself to finish his homework before he dropped dead of boredom.
Raito was almost sure that this feeling was a phase and it would pass in an hour. No, he was absolutely sure. Raito wasn't the sort of person to loaf around and do nothing when there was work to be done.
He must've caught a cold in the rain.
Until ten thirty, Raito was sitting stiffly at his desk, scribbling essays on various pieces of paper and printing out others. When he was done, Raito felt exhausted. He was definitely coming down with something.
He pulled his shirt over his head and tossed it into his laundry hamper before climbing into bed and getting comfortable. As time passed, Raito got extremely hot. One by one, he peeled the blankets off of his bed until he was left with nothing but a sheet.
Then he got annoyed.
He couldn't go to school tomorrow. Not like this. But if he didn't, he'd miss his test. Then he'd be royally fucked.
Of course he could always go to school and fail it horribly. Maybe then, since he was a star student and all that jazz, he'd be able to retake it. Now, Raito didn't exactly expect that to happen, but it was worth a try.
He rolled over in his bed again. On a whim, he glanced at the illuminated digital clock on his wall.
Twelve forty seven.
And he was still awake.
He groaned in anguish and smashed his face into a pillow. There was no pain like the pain one experienced when he knew he had to go to sleep, but couldn't. Such was Raito's pain at the moment, and he desperately wanted it to end.
Holy shit, was it hot in that room.
But it was cold outside.
Raito swore under his breath. He was in his bed, and the window was, well… over there, for lack of a better phrase. He really did not want to get up and open it, as tempting as it sounded. If he got up, which he doubted he would be able to do in his current state, he'd be too exhausted to open the window.
He wanted to sleep, didn't he? He didn't have a problem with passing out to get that way, did he? No. So why didn't he want to get up and open the GOD DAMN WINDOW?
Maybe if he was lucky, he'd get so hot that he'd start having fun little hallucinations.
He didn't have to wait long.
As he was glaring at the window, willing it to throw itself open, he saw something that looked like a giant spider phase through the curtains.
But the spider had only four legs.
And it was wearing a white shirt and old, faded jeans.
Then the thing looked at him. It wasn't a spider at all. It was just a scrawny boy with messy dark hair, huge, black, panda eyes, and incredibly bad posture.
He stared dumbly at the thing for a few seconds. And the creepy thing was…
It was staring straight back.
Raito's hair stood on end and he jumped two feet in the air. Fuck! He wasn't hallucinating at all! This guy must've climbed up to the second floor, onto his balcony, and then into his window. And now he was planning on robbing Raito of his TV and various other important things… that he couldn't think of at the moment.
"Who the hell are you and what the fuck are you doing in my room?" Raito yelled at the gangly thief perched on his office chair.
The thing cocked its head and looked at him through those muddy, black holes-for-eyes. "What?" it said, biting the tip of its thumb between his teeth, "You can see me?"
"Fuck yes I can see you!" Raito shouted, pointing a finger at the thing and crawling to the edge of his bed.
"No, you can't," it said definitely.
"Yes I can!"
"Nope," it said before leaping off of the chair and walking over to the bookshelf, as if denying Raito's existence altogether.
"Yes," said Raito.
"I can see you, you fucking loon!" Raito repeated, reaching for the curtain rod he kept behind his headboard. "Now if you don't get out, I'll have to do something you'll regret."
"It won't work," the thing said.
"I'll hit you," persisted Raito.
The spider-thing looked him straight in the eyes, tilted its head, and then replied, "That's impossible because I'm not here."
"Who the HELL are you?" harped Raito.
"No one," the thing said, "Now sleep. Sleeeeeep…" it stuck its arms out and waved its hands in front of its body, as if trying to pull the curtain of unconsciousness over Raito's eyes. It wasn't working. He decided to tell it that before it made a fool of itself.
"Not working," he said.
"No?" the thing looked deeply confused.
"No," confirmed Raito, impatiently tapping the curtain rod against the floor. The spider-thing sat back down in the chair, chewed on its thumb again, and tilted its head multiple times. It squinted its baggy eyes and crooned appraisingly to itself. It did that for several minutes and Raito had half a mind to take it by surprise and bludgeon it to death.
Suddenly, it said something.
"Do humans always sleep in their underwear?"
Raito blinked, then looked down to see that he was indeed, dressed down to his boxers. Where was the shock in that? It was much more comfortable. But, comfortable or not, Raito couldn't help but feel a bit vulnerable. A slight blush blossomed on his already flushed face.
Did this thing have no shame?
"What the fuck is that supposed to mean?" he snarled, brandishing the curtain rod so the thing would get his drift and get out of his room before he beat it senseless.
"You can still see me?"
"Mmm…" it crooned. Raito noticed for the first time that it wasn't wearing any shoes. And that it had inhumanly long toes.
Since the thing had decided to ask him a pointless question, Raito decided that he'd make things even. "Why aren't you wearing any shoes?" he asked.
The thing cocked its head at him yet again and considered his question. "It's much more comfortable that way. Why aren't you wearing any shoes?"
Raito glanced in the direction of his feet before doing a double take. It could've wanted him to look down so it could catch him by surprise and knock him out. His eyes snapped instantly back up at the spider-thing. He half expected it to be right beside him, waiting to knock his block off.
It was sitting at the exact same spot in the exact same chair, toes curled contentedly around the seat cushion in the exact same way.
Raito was dumbfounded. If it was a thief, it would've already attempted to shut him up. It would've hit him square in the back of the head. Plus, any normal person could see that Raito was sick with a fever, and that his reaction time was probably down a few notches.
And why was it just hanging around in his room?
It didn't make sense.
So much so that it made Raito all the more wary. Perhaps it hoped to lure him into a false sense of security.
Raito had already raised his voice a few times. His parents hadn't woken up, luckily, but he heard a shuffling noise coming from somewhere in the house. It was probably Sayu sneaking her own cookies into her room. He didn't want Sayu to come to his aid if he made too much noise, but if he screamed loudly enough, he could get his mother and father to wake up. They could call the police while Raito kept the thing occupied.
It was risky, but he could also see whether or not it would do anything to shut him up. If it got close enough, he could hit it with the rod and incapacitate it.
With his mind made up, Raito screamed.
The spider-thing gritted its teeth, clenched its eyes shut, and clapped its hands to its ears. Much to Raito's disbelief, the thing yelled at him to shut up.
Now was his chance!
He could hit it while it was still confused! Raito charged for the door of opportunity and lunged for the thing. He swung the curtain rod with all of his might and it arched through the air with a deafening 'whoosh!'
Raito found that last bit to be quite distracting.
He connected with nothing.
And since he was distracted, he let fly longer than he should have and the rod smashed headlong into his bookcase.
He blinked, wide eyed, for a very long time.
The thing was right in front of him. Well within arm's reach. So why hadn't he hit it? It had since stopped screeching and was now glaring at him with its hands still over its ears, looking quite displeased with him.
Raito panted and swept his sweaty bangs away from his face. He had a one hundred plus degree fever, but he was quite sure he wasn't hallucinating. Somehow, he'd swung at the thing when it was two feet away from him.
"Raito? Raito-kun?" an urgent and desperately worried pair of voices came from the hall. So he'd woken his parents up and they were coming to see what was wrong. And what was wrong was a thing that had morphed through his wall and that he couldn't hit.
"Shit," said Raito.
The door to his room opened and Raito warily took his eyes out of the apparition in front of him. He must've been quite a sight, in his boxers with a curtain rod in his hand standing in front of a hybrid spider-panda-man.
"Raito?" his father snapped. "What's going on?" Raito's mother crowded into the door, anxious to see what had her son so worked up.
Raito took a few much needed gasps of air. Could they not see that there was a gangly thief sitting in the chair right in front of him? Then Raito did what he hadn't done in a long time.
He looked from the thing in the chair, to the hole in his bookcase, to his parents, and back.
Sayu appeared in the door. "Raito-kun?" she whispered, "what's in the chair?"
So she could see him too?
But his parents couldn't. He didn't want to draw too much attention to her or himself. He'd talk to her later.
He glanced back at the scrawny thing sitting in the chair. Maybe it had disappeared.
No such luck.
It was still there, looking up at him with those big eyes. And apparently the only people who could see them were himself and Sayu.
Raito imagined he must've looked like an imbecile.
"Raito," his father repeated, walking slowly into the room as if his son were a serial killer. He probably seemed like it, slaughtering his bookcase like that. He kept one eye on his father, not wanting to look like he was staring into nothing. But at the same time, he didn't want to take his eyes off of that nothing.
Lest it decide that it wanted to attack him.
Raito's father told his mother to stay put when she took a step into his room. "I'll handle this," he muttered. Raito tried to stop breathing so hard, but it was difficult with the heat and all. He felt like his throat would close up and he'd die.
"Raito, are you alright?" his father spoke slowly. Raito expected him to. As chief of the police task force, he'd dealt with a few loonies in his time.
Raito got the feeling that 'Yeah,' wasn't going to do much for his dad. So he took another look at the thing in his chair, which had started playing with its toes, and he said nothing.
"Drop the curtain rod, Raito," his father suggested. Raito lamented parting with the rod, despite the fact that he could do nothing to harm his visitor with it. Seeing a reason to drop it, he let go.
When Raito's father deemed it was safe to approach him, he put one hand on Raito's forehead and flinched back. "Raito," his voice raised in astonishment, "you're burning up!"
The silent spell over the whole room shattered and his mom and sister spilled into the room as well. "We should take him to the hospital! Maybe he's hallucinating," his mother said as soon as she felt the heat Raito was sure was radiating from him.
"No," Raito's dad responded. Then he turned to Raito. "Raito, get into bed. I'll get you a bag of ice or something."
Raito wasn't listening. He was too busy staring at the thing that had invaded his room, which had since moved from its spot and was now examining the books on his shelf again. What was it, this thing that had appeared out of nowhere? A ghost maybe. Raito didn't like to think that he was hallucinating, but it was possible.
He was so enraptured, he didn't notice that his parents had been trying to talk to him for quite some time. His father had told Sayu to turn on the lights and she had, but the ghost remained there. Raito's father dusted off his glasses and peered in the direction of the bookcase. Raito assumed he was just looking at a bookcase. No strange, bug-eyed being.
Raito almost laughed.
He was totally off-his-rocker batshit.
"He's definitely looking at something," he heard his father mutter. "Sayu, go get some water for your brother. Sachiko, help me get him into bed."
Raito was herded by his mother and father to his bed.
Meanwhile, the spider-thing had situated itself on the office chair again, toes habitually curled around the seat. It was still chewing on its thumb and watching him very intently. Raito wondered what it was about himself that was so interesting. He checked to make sure that his mother and father were preoccupied enough not to notice, then scowled at it.
It made a face as if to say 'you're really weird,' and then amused itself by staring at the ceiling.
"Raito!" someone sighed, "He's seeing things again- Raito! Look at me!"
He was staring again, wasn't he? He needed to be more careful about that. Raito glanced over at his father, who had broken into a sweat because he was so worried. Feeling like his dad wanted him to say something, he smartly said, "What?"
"Let's just call an ambulance, Soichiro," said Raito's mom.
Soichiro Yagami sighed. "Just wait a minute. As soon as we get him a glass of water and a bag of ice, he'll be fine." Raito's mom took one look at her son and nodded. "I'll go get the ice," she said and left the room.
Immediately after she left, a very excited-looking Sayu came back with a glass of ice water for Raito. He downed it in two gulps. Sayu said she'd go and get him another glass of water and skipped out of the room.
"What do you see, Raito?" his father demanded.
But, again, Raito wasn't listening. Why? The thing was talking to him again. It pointed to the abandoned plate of cookies and said, "Do you mind if I have one?"
Raito looked over at his father, who was desperately trying to capture his attention. "Can you hear me?" he said, shaking Raito by the shoulders. He recognized this as an opportunity to kill two birds with one stone and nodded. His dad stopped shaking him and the thing on his chair popped a cookie into its mouth. "Thanks," it said.
Raito was dumbfounded. His father didn't seem to hear it speak either. "Raito! Look at me!" he shook him again. Raito's attention snapped back to his father. "What do you see?" he repeated.
Then his mom hurried back into the room, followed by Sayu. His sister gave him another larger glass of water, which he still finished in less than five gulps. His mother placed the towel-wrapped bag of ice on his head and shoved a thermometer under his tongue.
The thing sat in its chair and laughed.
Raito wanted to get out of bed and smack that insane grin off its face. However, he had two adults, a little sister, and his pride to hold him down. If he was totally off-his-rocker batshit, he didn't want his parents knowing about it.
And he certainly did not want to go to the hospital.
The digital thermometer beeped and his mom whipped it back out of his mouth. "Forty one point seven??!" she exclaimed in centigrade. Raito's eyebrows shot up.
Much higher and he would've died.
He glanced back over at the spider-thing, which was happily making cookies disappear. "You're welcome," it said between bites. A strange thing to say.
Raito's father's face appeared and blocked his view of the cookie thief. "Raito, stop looking over there. I don't know what you're seeing, but it's not real. Do you understand?"
"Have another glass of water."
And Raito let it slide. He was all too happy to take the third glass of water off of his sister's hands. He drank every last drop and felt much more refreshed.
"Can you talk to me now?" asked Soichiro Yagami. Raito's mom leaned in as well and took one of Raito's hands in hers.
Raito eyed the giggling, cookie-eating thing one more time. "Yeah," he said, "I can talk."
"Good, good!" Raito's father patted him on the arm like it was no big deal. "Now tell me what you saw."
Raito didn't want to scare them enough to keep him away from school, which he had no doubt he'd be missing anyway. Having his parents know that he was hallucinating because of a high fever and not because he was stark raving mad, however, could prove to be in his favor.
To hell with it. He threw caution to the wind and explained. "Well," he began, thinking. Maybe if he exaggerated enough, he'd make the spider-thing angry enough to do something rash. He could make it give itself away. Battle plan in mind, he continued. "It's this thing," said Raito. The thing started nibbling on a cookie. "I'm not sure if it's human. It's got four really spindly legs, bug eyes, and a crooked back." The thing halted almost imperceptibly in its cookie conquest before snatching up another one. Score! He had to jeer just a little more and maybe Raito could get a rise out of it.
"It has monkey toes," he elaborated to an eager audience. Even Sayu, with yet another glass of water, stopped and listened in. "They're really dirty monkey toes. Come to think of it, it doesn't look like it's taken a shower in a month." The thing gave him a warning glare and aloofly munched on another cookie. "Its hair is disgusting and matted in areas," said Raito, "and there are huge bags under its eyes. It's wearing a white sweater and a pair of old, baggy, cheap looking jeans." He glanced over at the thing on the chair, which was now eating its cookies only marginally faster. "It acts a lot like a little kid and I could guess that it isn't very mature either."
Then it all-out glared at him.
Score. He was all set. He could conjure up a way to make it mad.
First off, when Raito called it an 'it' and a 'thing,' it ate another cookie. Raito could interpret this as a defense reflex.
Secondly, when he insulted its looks the first time, it stopped eating for a split second like it was considering whether or not to be offended. In the end, it kept on eating. No faster, no slower. Raito could hypothesize that the thing's appearance didn't affect it.
The third time Raito insulted it about its hygiene. Judging from the glare he received, it didn't like to be referred to as dirty, which could loop back to its dislike of being referred to as if it weren't human.
The fourth time, and second time that Raito insulted its looks, it didn't respond in any remarkable way. Raito did this to see whether or not he was correct in his assumption that the thing didn't care about its looks. He was right.
Lastly, Raito insulted its intelligence. If looks could kill, Raito would be dead. But he'd die happy.
Because he knew exactly what made the spider-thing tick. His audience was bewildered as to why he had elaborated so precisely. But there were two audiences in this room: His family, and the thing in the chair.
From this information, he pieced together his insult. It wasn't exactly what one would call world-class insult material, and it was very choppy.
But he was improvising.
As long as he got a reaction from the thing, he was content. He whipped out the insult that he absolutely knew would affect it most.
"Dirty bastard. I bet it's no smarter than a goldfish."
It Glared. Oh shit, did it Glare. Glare with a capital 'G.' But it contained itself. It perched aloofly on its chair and preened its dirty little proverbial feathers. So it disliked to be vulnerable. Sort of like himself. It did not want the enemy to know when it was wounded. Again, somewhat like him. Oh, they were both going to get along.
Raito, who was very happy with himself, relaxed in his bed with his icepack still resting on his forehead. He was a bit disappointed that the thing was so well mannered about his derision, but he didn't let it irk him.
The thing refused to allow itself to be bothered by his insults and lounged back in the office chair. If it was like him, as Raito suspected, it was probably thinking of a witty comeback. And it would think of one right about…
"Says the boy who tried to whack me with a stick after I told him numerous times that it wouldn't work."
Twice, thought Raito righteously. 'Numerous' was blowing things out of proportion.
He hid his indignation well. His parents didn't suspect a thing.
After he went on a five minute long rant about how un-cool and stupid his hallucination was.
Smooth, Raito Yagami.
His father shook his head, then mussed up his hair. "You scared us, Raito. Stay in bed. Remember, if you see anything unusual, it's not real. Alright?"
"Sure," Raito agreed.
"And if you're not feeling well, tell us. We worry about you, you know?" his mom cut in.
The thing ate another cookie.
"Yes mom," said Raito.
Sayu thrust another full glass of ice-cold water in his face and gave him a peck on the forehead. "Night-o Raito!" she said smartly before skipping out the door. "Don't die!" Raito could laugh at how close she was to the truth.
After making sure that he was indeed not going to die, his parents reluctantly left his bedside. They spared not one glance for the now empty cookie platter. When they were gone, Raito had a total of one ice pack, three towels, two dry and one wet, five glasses of water, one full and three empty, no cookies, and one invisible creature in an office chair.
Speak of the devil and he spoke back. "I found that insult to be particularly tasteless," it informed him. Raito guffawed when he was absolutely sure his parents were out of earshot. "I'm sure," he retorted.
It gave him a sidelong leer. "By the way," it said pointedly, "I'm a 'he.' Not an 'it.'"
Raito snickered again. "'Particularly tasteless,'" he quoted.
"Just because your insult was weak doesn't mean I can't defend myself," it-he pointed out. Oh sure. Raito rolled his eyes. He liked to argue, did he?
Well, two could play at that game.
L's first impression of Raito Yagami was that he was an ignorant prick without an imagination.
In short, he was the spitting image of L himself. And L was very proud. He couldn't quite bring himself to be angry at Yagami. L had, after all, come to steal his soul and whatnot.
Also, those cookies were damn good. He hadn't tasted anything better in his entire life. He needed more of those cookies…
Speaking of cookies, L was sure there were a few crumbs left on that plate. He snatched it up, licked his thumb and his forefinger, and picked up every crumb he could see. It was risky to eat so much human food at once, but L didn't care. All he cared was that there were a few crumbs of cookie goodness still clinging to the glossy surface of that plate.
L noted that Raito was unusually silent during all this. He was very aware that Yagami was watching him, however. He was much too quiet to be doing much else. And L could assume that he wasn't one to let his guard down. He found the scrutiny quite uncomfortable, but he withstood it for the sake of those delicious crumbs.
"You like cookies," Raito observed.
"Yes," said L.
"Why are you here?"
L checked to see whether or not any crumbs had escaped his gaze before tossing the plate back onto Raito's desk. Then he looked over at Raito, who still looked laughably ridiculous with that enormous bag of ice on his head.
He considered the question. To tell or not to tell? In any case, if this Yagami person really could see him, L would be hanging around a lot longer than he expected. He couldn't retrieve Raito's soul while he was still alive, and he couldn't leave for his own realm without it.
What was more, if Raito saw him, that meant…
L didn't want to believe it. It was great and horrible at the same time. If he really did see L, a psychopomp, in the human realm…
Oh boy. How was he supposed to explain this? L always did hate explaining things. Especially when he knew that the listener would ask him to repeat himself several times.
In any case, he decided that telling Raito what he was and why he was here would be unavoidable at this point. "Well, I'm here to collect your soul, of course," he said.
Raito gave him a skeptical glare. "Oh?"
L blew a puff of air from his lips and drew his eyebrows down in frustration. This was going to be difficult. "I'm a psychopomp. Someone who's in charge of guiding the souls of the recently departed into the afterlife."
Raito gave him 'the look.'
L dreaded 'the look.' He knew what was coming next.
"'Recently departed?'" he quoted. L grumbled, "Yes. You were supposed to die." He then rocked back onto his heels on the office chair and chewed on his thumb. "Which is what I don't understand. I assume you were going to die of that fever you had. But that doesn't make sense. If you were going to die of a fever, it wouldn't have been me coming to get you, or would it?" L was blissfully unaware of the fact that he was talking to himself.
"What are you talking about?" said Raito cluelessly.
"I'm one of the many in charge of doing away with…" here, he chose his words carefully. He didn't want any more questions, "old people." When Raito quirked an eyebrow at him again, L knew he wasn't satisfied.
"Natural deaths," he corrected.
Raito eyed him again, "And dying of a fever is unnatural?"
"Old age," L rephrased.
"I see," said Raito coolly. L regarded him carefully. He could tell that Yagami was bothered by this, but he wasn't wigging out as L had suspected. Despite his fever, he had his wits about him.
He found Raito Yagami very interesting.
So then… L thought, nibbling on his thumb, Raito didn't die. Did L inadvertently save him somehow? Well, if he hadn't come into the room and Raito hadn't seen him, the boy wouldn't have yelled and his family never would have come in with ice or water.
"So, since you're a god of death or something," L's lips quirked upward with pride at Raito's choice of words, "Am I not supposed to see you?"
"No," L answered. Then, he glanced over at Raito, looking generally pathetic on that bed of his. "You really can see me, can't you?"
"I've been telling you that for the past hour," Raito pointed out. L nodded absently, "True, true. I suppose I couldn't believe it." He saw the beginning of a triumphant smile worm its way onto the Yagami boy's face.
Recognizing one's fault was a thing to be proud of as well, wasn't it? He let Raito gloat.
"So what does this mean?" he asked. L looked him squarely in the eyes, "What does what mean?"
"My seeing you and all. You going to kill me and forcefully take my soul out of my body?" Raito asked, crossing his arms.
L scoffed. "Of course not! You humans definitely do like to make things up, don't you?"
Raito rolled his eyes. "So what happens now?" he asked.
L bit his thumbnail. "I'm not sure," he admitted. "I think I may have discovered something, though."
Raito raised his eyes as if to say, 'and that would be..?'
"Have you ever heard of Death, Raito-san? Not death, but The Death? The Grim Reaper? Something along those lines?"
"Of course," said Raito as if all that was common knowledge.
"Good, good," said L, "Well, where I come from, he's called Kira."
"Kira?" asked Raito, "Sounds like 'Killer.'"
"I don't like it."
"Well, get used to it."
"Why?" Raito asked.
"Because," L said carefully, "You've seen me and you've been saved from death. There is only one explanation for that."
"And that is?" asked the brunette. L could tell he was very much on edge about this. So he decided to put him out of his misery.
"I believe that you, Raito Yagami," L began with as much monotonous pizzazz as he could, "Are Kira."
Chibi Raito: What?
Chibi Misa: Yay!
Chibi L: -eats a cookie-
Me: Hooray! Chapter one is DONE!
Chibi Misa: She really burned midnight oil for this one. Three days! She wrote a chapter in three days! Nothing miraculous about that, but she normally updates in about, oh… a MONTH?
Me: Quiet, you.
Chibi Misa: Well, regardless of her slowness, she loves reviews.
Me: Damn straight!
Chibi Misa: And she offers a special reviewing gimmick. If you review, you get as many free virtual cookies as you could want.
Me: No calories!
Chibi Misa: -eats a cookie-
Chibi L: -steals Misa's cookie-
Chibi Misa: -cries-
Me: Rest assured, L won't steal your cookie should you choose to review. Unless you want him to…
Chibi Misa: Awright! Review for cookies and for updates if you like! And if you see something spelled wrong, let Swirl know. She can't stand typos.
Chibi Misa: Review, review, review!