Chapter 4

Disclaimer: I do not own Death Note. But I kinda own my version of C-Kira. I think. Oh, and the OC Matt Dave belongs to Duwee Davis II.

Dr. Nagaoka was a simple man. Or rather, he once was, until his wife divorced him; and before his son, Takashi, began hating him. He wished he could be a simple man as he walked through his home that was much too large for one person. His footsteps echoed through the house, reminding him of how empty his life truly was. At first, his nights were full of tears and regret, full of what ifs and whys. They were still full of what ifs and whys, and his nights were never full of sleep as they should be. He'd become an insomniac, and it was truly a wonder how he could properly function on so little sleep.

Today, he paced the halls with purpose, his echoing footsteps reminding him of the fact he was the only one with this god-like power. He was free to kill off anyone he liked, yet he chose to put his elderly patients out of their suffering. If not for the elderly, all future generations descending from them would not have as many rights and freedoms as they did now. After all of their troubles, the least they deserved was a painless death.

Or at least, that's what Benjiro Nagaoka thought. In his mind, he was doing a great and fantastic right. He thought what he did would help everyone in the world. Everyone in Japan, at the very least. He walked over to the kitchen, sliding his hand across the railing as he descended the stairs from his room. Dust particles gathered on his fingers as he ran his hands across them, but he took no notice. He wasn't the type of man to dust much. Benjiro sat in his kitchen chair, pondering the things he'd done and how he'd come across the magic killing notebook he'd come to call his own.

It hadn't been very long ago at all, only last month. Benjiro had just been to the grocery store, picking up a few things he needed for himself, and to take up the store's offer on discounted bananas. As he walked back toward his home with a bag in each hand, he stepped upon something. Being the kind of man to pick up litter wherever he could find it, he took one bag from his hand and put it in the other, revealing a free hand to pick up the object he'd stepped on.

"Hm... A book of sorts..."

Little did he know, that would be the day that would curse him forever.

"Mrs. Yagami." Matsuda said firmly, keeping her hand in his, "I can't say it'll be alright. I can't predict the future. But I do know that you can't give up. Sayu needs you. You're all she has left." Tears came to Matsuda's eyes as he realized the words he was saying. Sayu... Such a sweet and innocent girl...

"I... know... but it's just so hard..." Sachiko muttered, dabbing at her eyes with her tissue. "Even with you here, the enormous help you've been. Honestly, I would be in shambles if I didn't have you, Matsuda..."

Matsuda ran a hand through his hair as a slight smile played at his lips. Tears dribbled from his chin as he raised a sleeve to clear them away.

"I'm here for both of you, and you know that. I've grown quite fond of you two, you know. I'm not sure I could abandon you even if I tried."

Sachiko laughed slightly, an empty, hollow sound.


Sayu jumped up from her wheelchair and ran at Matsuda, stopping suddenly and running to the kitchen.

"Sayu..." Sachiko sighed. "It's probably time you left, Matsuda. Sayu needs me now."

"Are you sure? I can stay a bit long-" Matsuda began, and was once again cut off by his phone. "Maybe not..." he muttered as he opened it and pressed it to his ear. "Matsuda."

"Headquarters, now." The voice was Dave, and it sounded extremely urgent. The line went dead. The man sighed slightly, feeling a bit uneasy.

"It turns out I cannot stay after all... Well, I shall return soon, Mrs. Yagami. Hopefully. Please, be careful."

"Goodbye, Matsuda. Thank you." Sachiko breathed out as she hugged him.

"It's no problem, really. Now, I must go. I'll be back the next time I get some time to spare!"

With that, the detective went to the door, put his shoes on and ran out to his car.

Benjiro grinned, smiling at the wonderful memory. He rests his elbows on the table, holding his head in his hands.

"What exactly are you doing, then?"

He didn't even have to turn around to know whose voice that was.

"What exactly do you gather I'm doing, Midora?"

The Shinigami slither-walked across the floor; to the counter, grabbing another banana.

"Hm... Thinking, maybe."

"You needn't even ask."

"Well, you are more predictable that I thought you'd be."

"Am I now?" Benjiro stood at this, walking in the living room and pausing for a second to remember what was once so admirable about it. He never went in as often anymore, the memories of family and love much too painful to endure. Pain heavy in his heart, he clutched his chest and went back the way he'd originally come, back up the stairs. His slippers nearly fell off, but he managed to make it up without looking directly at his wife's old room or his son's old room. His study doubled as a bedroom. As soon as he entered, he felt disgusted with himself. Gods don't feel pain.

When one first enters the doctor's study, the first thing they would notice would probably be the multiple figurines scattered about the room. They were a hobby of Benjiro's one he'd always had an interest in but one he'd recently done more and more often. When he wasn't at work or "assisting" the elderly, he preferred to spend his time painting the small people. No one knew this about him except Midora.

In fact, when she first possessed him, he had attempted to protect himself with the sword of a figurine he kept near his computer. Naturally, the Shinigami found this quite amusing, considering that wouldn't kill her, or even injure her in the least. Now, she was actually quite interested in the small people, but not interested enough to watch the extremely slow process that went into creating the things. Truth be told, he wished that she would stay there. He at least wanted someone to know what he was doing. It wasn't a big secret or anything like that; he just had nobody to tell.

To fill the hole in his heart, he decided to do a good deed and end all the elderly he kept on his list for times like these. He had spent many hours compiling the list, it being one of his major concerns since the day he had decided to use the notebook for good. The list was pretty long, about thirty patients long, and writing down all the names one after another would help him clear his mind. Unfortunately, he was also the type of man to take action and think later. It also didn't help that the power was going to his head, and he didn't realize that he could very well get caught for doing something so major without thinking.

When this thought did occur to him however, he replied to his thought with a simple "I doubt anyone can track someone with the power of god."

If only he knew that someone already had.

By the time Matsuda arrived at headquarters, the place was an absolute madhouse. Never in Matsuda's dreams could he ever picture a team of educated men running around as if they had no sense. He focused on Dave, who ran from computer to filing cabinet, over and over, bumping into Mogi, Ide and Aizawa, who were doing the same thing.

"What's going on here?" Matsuda demanded, slamming his fist on the desk.

"Thirty seniors, dead, just like that!" Dave snapped his fingers to make a point.

The youngest detective froze.

"Do you think this is the work of whatever caused those other elderly deaths?"

Dave nodded furiously.

"It must be, all died of heart attacks."

Matsuda turned to Mogi, genuine terror in his eyes.

"Mogi... Do you think-"

"Yes, Matsuda. I'm sure of it."

"Very well; then. Call the current L. We've got another Kira on our hands."

"Ah..." The dark blue desk chair creaked slightly and he put his hands behind his head. Benjiro smiled brightly, returning to his former self as the hole in his heart filled with the satisfaction that came with sending another suffering elder out of this world. Midora smiled as well, enjoying herself thoroughly. Ryuk had been right, humans were interesting... But she did regret how short her stay would be. Midora was a Shinigami and she knew that if Benjiro kept killing at the rate he was going no, he was sure to get caught. Benjiro, however, believed that nobody could ever catch him.

"Such a nice feeling, isn't it?" Midora slithered into the room, smile still on her face.

Benjiro snorted. He didn't need to answer, Midora already knew the answer to that question.

A clear-cut, unmistakable yes.

"I've already solved this case, for the most part, anyway." the synthetic voice declared, the one Matsuda knew belonged to none other than Near.

"Ide?" Dave asked, crossing his arms across his chest.

"I told you he was good." Matsuda muttered under his breath.

"Yes. The only person who could have this many connections is a doctor. Most of the elderly, about 78%, came from the same hospital. Therefore, it must be someone who has direct access to the patients or their records. There are only nineteen people with that kind of connection. Solving the case would be pretty simple from there, but that isn't necessary."

"What do you mean, L?" Dave's voice inquired, confused.

"This Kira is a cheap Kira, a fake Kira. He is nowhere near as clever as Light, and is nothing more than a coward. Bring that fact to the public's attention, and you shall see how fast these killings stop."



"Do you recall when you said I was becoming predictable?" Benjiro asked, an intention -a new idea- fresh in his mind.

"Of course I do. A Shinigami rarely forgets."

The doctor became distracted.


"Yes, we have superior memories, but since we've been around for so long, our minds become full of the nothingness that is our world."

"So, something like coming into the human world would remain in your mind for a long time?"

Midora nodded.

"Yes. A Shinigami I know remembers every detail of the human world, right down to its apples."

"Well, here's something I won't let you forget. I've decided something." As he spoke, Dr. Nagaoka clutched the Death Note in his hands. "Why should I limit the relief to the elderly? If people are suffering, and they will for the rest of their lives, they deserve to have an end to their suffering, as well."

"Hm. You're saying you'll kill off anyone now?"

"No, not at all! Listen to me, you ignorant Shinigami. If people will be suffering for the rest of their lives, what kind of life is that? No one deserves the awful suffering that comes with incurable disease. I can help anyone who needs it. I am... a higher power."

"When will you start your new list?"

Benjiro sneered.

"I already have."

A/N: I am so sorry this took so long, and it isn't even that good XD. I've been grounded, and then my computer broke, and then... (insert excuse here). Thank you for reading, please review! Thank you to MidnightCurls for betaing!