Disclaimer: I don't own Death Note and I'm making no profit off this. I just enjoy playing around with these characters. Yes, in that way.
Note: So…this is In Passing. A collection of ficlets based on prompts from an lj community. Most of you have seen me do this before, with Inferiority Complex. I had so much fun with it, and felt a silly amount of pride at finishing it. Along the way I also ended up with a ton of ideas for ficlets about the other characters, but had bound my hands with pure Matsuda (not that I was complaining in the least). So now, we have this. MOAR FICLETS. This time, based on the minor characters. Essentially, it's taskforce and SPK members, though I expect Namikawa, Mido, Misora and Penber will probably sneak in here at some point. I also like Ide almost as much as I like Aizawa, so…prepare for a lot of him. Requests and ideas usually taken up, so let me know!
Prompt: 18. Break
The news was still talking about Higuchi's death.
Ide glowered at the television set and aimed the remote at it, and the screen flicked into blackness. It had been over a week since the Japanese taskforce had swooped down and arrested a man on suspicion of being Kira, and since he had collapsed at their feet. The news reports made him angry - there had even been suggestions that the entire thing, included Higuchi's heart attack, had been a set-up to make it look like progress was being made, and L wasn't as inept as everyone was beginning to think.
Ide might have thought that, once, but he knew better. Now…he'd met L.
Granted, it was from a distance. Granted, all he'd seen was a flick of dark hair under a helmet as the notebook (the murder notebook, he thought, and shuddered) was passed into the helicopter. But the lengths they'd gone to, and, as Aizawa told him in a strangled voice later, for L to actually home out himself…it was what had made Aizawa go back.
He'd asked Ide to go with him. Ide had refused. He still didn't trust L, and after he'd practically offered Matsuda up for the slaughter on that God-awful Sakura TV programme, Ide could barely stomach the thought of approaching the man and asking to be allowed to help him. He'd been doing just fine on his own so far, and when it had counted the most, he had been there. He had helped.
The doorbell rang. Ide frowned; he didn't usually get visitors, especially so late in the evening. He pulled himself up, and headed for the door.
It was Aizawa. He had his coat wrapped round him, and looked like he hadn't slept in several days. He opened his mouth, then closed it, and then said quietly, "Can I come in?"
"Of course," Ide replied, confused, and stepped back.
Aizawa hurried into the apartment. Once the door had clicked shut behind him, he spoke again. "Ide - L's dead."
Ide didn't realise he'd still been holding the remote until it clattered to the floor.