Shades of Mystification

I’m so sorry for upsetting you all with the last chapter! And thanks for all the kind words and reviews! Be assured I will not abandon this story!

Chapter Twenty-Five


Nate was good on his promise at least. In the following weeks, newsstands stayed free of the scandal, the nightly breaking stories never mentioned his name. Raito should have been glad that the art dealer had stuck to his word, and in some half-assed, pathetic way he was. He didn’t know if he could have handled it – giving up so much, experiencing so much intense emotion, only to have it all go for nothing.

So now he sat at his desk, a silent, brooding shell of the man he’d grown to be. The office door, normally open to admit inquiring patrons, was firmly shut, lights dimmed. The only sound came from the slight chink of small circles of preciously made and given silver, previously fitted together but now broken in a manner he didn’t know how to fix.

He pushed the puzzle ring around on his desk, absently wondering - not for the first time - how upset L would be to know he’d taken it off. He didn’t think it would match how he’d felt when he’d finally removed it and the delicate links had fallen apart into his instantly regretful hands. To his disgust he hadn’t been able to stop weeping for hours afterwards.

Even after all the harsh words he’d said to the artist and the fact they weren’t even together anymore, he still felt incredible guilt for removing the man’s heartfelt gift.

Misa’s sharp eyes had noted the day he’d started wearing it and she’d asked where it had come from, suspecting a girlfriend. He’d bluffed her off with some excuse but Raito had been slightly upset to see the scantily hidden glee on her face the day he came in without it, never mind that he looked like hell inadequately warmed.

It’s not like he could have continued to wear it though. Every time he’d looked at it, indefinable feelings had welled up in him, ideas of how maybe he could still be with L without Nate knowing. But he pushed such thoughts aside. He couldn’t risk it, even if the man would take him back now. There was too much at stake to hang it on the weak hook of his own happiness.

Picking it up, he twisted some of the rings together, wondering how they fit. He’d taken to carrying it in his pocket and bringing it out when the loneliness got a bit too much. Even if he couldn’t have the man in his life anymore, perhaps he could have this…just this. The rings clinked softly again in the silence and the gallery owner let out a shuddering breath.

His door opened a crack and Raito jumped, scooping the ring up and stuffing it in his pocket, hiding it from whoever was coming in.

Matsuda poked his head around the corner, his cheery face sinking Raito into an even fouler mood. How dare the man be so damn happy when he was so utterly fucking miserable! Couldn’t he see…?!

“Yagami-san!” He came in, ignoring the obviously icy look on his bosses face. He waggled a piece of paper enthusiastically towards his superior and gestured grandly. He looked like he was about to burst into song, which reminded Raito just how much he hated musicals. He almost wished Matsuda would start singing, then he’d have an excuse to throw something at him. Perhaps the stapler…

“I’ve got some great news! You’ll be so excited!” He half-shouted, still not cottoning onto the fact that Raito’s office was not the place to be for someone so happy. Already the oppressive atmosphere was darkening, trying to blot out the man’s sunny disposition. Matsuda’s shoulders hunched a little against the sudden ominous feeling of killing intent but sailed bravely, or rather stupidly, forth regardless.

Raito couldn’t fathom how someone could be so happy all the time and yet so brainless. Surely God didn’t hate him this much to curse him with such a happy, brainless employee at the worst time of his entire life thus far.

But God apparently had and so Raito listened with uninterested ears as Matsuda explained he’d won a trip for two to Hawaii off some radio station he listened to. The gallery owner wondered briefly as the dark-haired man prattled on about where he’d be staying why Matsuda felt the need to tell him this.

“…was thinking about asking Misa-chan to come with me, but that would leave you with no one here.” The man trailed off, the crux and point of his babbling finally reached.

Raito didn’t care either way and absently waved his hand, murmuring that it was fine and they could both go at their earliest convenience. Maybe a shark would eat them both. In the deepest recesses of his mind, the gallery owner relished the idea all of a sudden.

But Matsuda was unconvinced of his goodwill at their abandoning him.

“But we’ll be leaving you all on your own! The guilt! It burns!”

“No, that’s just acid reflux. You ate something bad for lunch.” Raito paused, grasping for some kind of kind cast to his features. “And go whenever you feel like. I’ll be fine.”

Matsuda’s dramatic expression stayed for a beat then he beamed and made like he was about to hug the gallery owner. Raito shrank back in his chair and automatically made a warding off gesture with his hands. The other man stopped short, seeming to remember that it was his boss he was about to embrace and instead gave him a hearty, fervent thumbs up.

Ignoring the man’s grateful thanks and the enthusiastic closing of his office door, Raito’s fingers absently found the ring in his pocket again and he slumped over his desk, head resting on the cool wood.

Nate may have L’s artwork to sell now, may have forbidden him any contact with the man, but at least Raito had his memory. Which, when he really thought about it, was the far more important of the two.


///////////


A few months had passed. Matsuda’s free trip had come and gone. They’d both returned, tanned and happy, bearing several little pointless knickknacks for their boss which he duly took, making a note to drop them off at the nearest second-hand store on the way home. He had no need for badly-fired pottery casts of ill-painted dancing island girls.

“Look, if he’s not going to bring them in time then tell him he can sell his paintings elsewhere! I’m not going to put up with him just because he’s unmotivated!” Raito slammed down the phone before his mouth snapped shut in remembrance. The artist he was dealing with now had no comparison to L, but it was the very same situation that caused him to meet the reclusive artist in the first place.

Raito pushed the button on his intercom, installed only two weeks previously. Since the absence of L in his life, he’d become slightly withdrawn. He didn’t like to have a lot of people around him. Where before he would have handled the day-to-day greeting to patrons as they visited, now he let Misa step into his place. He began loading more and more work onto Matsuda as he sat in his office with the door shut, ignoring everyone. He knew it was childish but couldn’t seem to help the slump he’d fallen into.

Misa’s cheerful voice answered his inquiry. “Yes, Raito-san?”

“Cancel my appointment later with that agent I was just speaking to. We won’t be dealing with him anymore. Bring my mail when you’re done too.”

“Of course!”

He could hear her smile through the sound and clicked off the intercom with a soundless curling of his lip. He didn’t want her in the office but if he left it he would have to interact with the both of them. He really didn’t want to have to deal with Matsuda’s ‘friendly yet pointed’ advice on picking up women.

A few minutes later, his door slid open and Misa bounced in, laying a stack of letters and flyers on the edge of his desk. He waved away her invitation to lunch and, picking up a letter opener, slid it into the first envelope as she left.

“Bill…bill…charity…bill…advertising…bill…charity…” Raito murmured to himself as he opened each one, placing them in stacks for later perusal. Normally the advertising and flyers when straight into the bin but he needed something to read if all he was going to do was sit there. The largest envelope Misa had stacked on the bottom. It was creamy, eggshell-white, smooth and pleasant to touch. Glancing at the address on the front he noted that it was addressed to him personally, not just to the gallery. Also, it seemed to be missing a timestamp, meaning they had delivered it to the gallery itself rather than posting it.

Curious, he opened it, sliding the piece of paper inside out. A thick rectangle of paper fell into his hand as well and he flicked it over, noting it was an invitation and ticket.

Browsing over the letter, he realized that someone – probably an advertiser - had made the mistake of buying him a personal box seat for the upcoming Taiko festival.

Instantly, he didn’t want to go.

Last time he’d gone had been with L. And to go by himself this time just seemed pointless. Continuing to read the flyer that had come with the invitation, something piqued his interest slightly.

~A never-seen-before player who until three months ago had never touched a drum in his life for a one-time only show of his own music! Come and see this fantastic drummer play!~

The drummer himself was probably useless and had just paid the theater to advertise for him to get some extra cash. Raito was feeling caustic enough to enjoy seeing someone else fail in front of a good thousand people and noted that the date for the showing was in a weeks’ time.

Not really worried about who had sent the invitation, he called Misa again and asked her to book it onto his schedule. He received invitations to all sorts of things all the time and this time was no different. Probably some Politian looking for a successful romantic match for his ugly daughter. No doubt he’d be approached at the place itself and introduced to the buyer of the ticket. He almost wanted to reverse his decision, but Raito didn’t like to go back on it if he’d already made up his mind once. So he put the invitation aside and promptly forgot about it.

////////////////

It was too late at night to be working but Raito wanted the next few nights completely free of work so he could rest and then attend this ridiculous concert. He wasn’t looking forward to being fawned over by groups of rejected daughters and overbearing fathers but perhaps the boost to his ego would do him some good. Noting it was a clear night, he stepped out of the door, hands buried in his coat pockets.

Turning to begin locking up, he stopped short, puzzled. There was a vase of roses sitting on the sidewalk, unattended. He glanced to both sides, seeing no one in the immediate vicinity. His stomach leapt and he suddenly felt giddy. Not that he’d admit that to anyone.

He bent down slowly, reaching for the tiny card atop them, shaking hand belying the hope in his stance.

Perhaps…just maybe…L…had left them.

‘Oh God…please…’

His fingers snatched the card and, as he straightened, a pair of black shoes, legs clad in dress pants appeared beside him. Raito stood quickly, eyes searching out the face he’d only seen in his dreams the past few months.

What he found was far from what he’d hoped.

“We can be together now!” Wide, intense eyes stared at him through black-rimmed glasses as pale hands reached forward to grasp the lapel of his coat. “He’s gone, now you can be mine!”

‘Oh fuck…!!’

Raito stumbled backwards, mouth opening in a soundless expression of horror. His head swung wildly left and right, searching for a passerby, someone to witness the situation and possibly help him. But the street was empty, just him and this…walking insane asylum.

Mikami lunged and Raito struggled to dodge. Christ, the man was fast! And how the hell did he know that L and he had broken up?! Raito was changing his locks and buying a new phone line the instant he got home. If he made it home this time.

The dark-haired man had caught the edge of his jacket, seemingly indifferent to the blows Raito rained on his face with both fists. His nose split open and he was still shouting his delusions at Raito, spattering his face with flecks of blood and spit.

“He’s gone! I told you I would fix things! That I would make it so we could finally be together!”

What the hell was he talking about?! Raito arched away as the man sought to kiss him, pushing him up against the wall of the gallery.

The gallery!

If he could only get inside he could lock the door. Lock this madman outside and call the police! There was no way he could let things go the way they had the last time he had an encounter with this nutter. He wouldn’t survive, of that he was sure.

Kicking out, he landed a crunching blow on Mikami’s knee and sprang for the door. Mikami whipped out a hand that settled on the collar of his jacket but Raito twisted, shedding his outer-wear as the man sought to hold him back. Fortunately he hadn’t locked the door yet and the handle slid open in his too-sweaty grasp. Crashing inside, he kicked the door shut behind him, but it bounced open again as Mikami blocked it with his shoulder, barreling in after him. Raito kicked out as the man sought to grab him again and the dark-haired man fell back through the doorway, catching the frame with one hand as he partially stumbled down the front steps.

Raito slammed the door on his hand but it wouldn’t shut. Fear and adrenaline made him hysterical and he continued to slam the door repeatedly, his entire being fixed on the one point of contact where the door wouldn’t shut.

There was screaming in his ears and he didn’t know if it was him or Mikami, but when the hand finally disappeared and the door shut, Raito slammed down the bar and turned the lock, stumbling backwards and falling down, staring as Mikami slowly rose to his feet. He was cradling his injured hand in the crook of his elbow, blood dripping in slow congealing drops. He stared, still and silent at Raito through the glass, with a gaze that spoke of something dark, intense and very hungry. He bent and picked up Raito’s abandoned coat, burying his nose in the still-warm material without removing his gaze form the man himself.

Raito scrambled back, feet sliding on the floor as Mikami raised his injured hand and pressed it flat against the glass, seeming to test the thickness, leaving a streaky film of red on the surface.

“The course of true love never did run smooth. We will be together. Sooner than you think.” He spoke, the sound muffled by the glass.

Raito turned and fled back to his office, shaking hands dialing the nearest police station as he watched the man slowly leave.

***************

And he’s back again! I can’t help but torture our poor Raito-kuuun – he’s just so tasty when he’s all stressed out! Haha! So! Dun dun DUN! Who sent the invitation? Were the roses just there to lure Raito outside? What did the card actually say? And what did Mikami mean when he said that L was gone and he’d ‘fixed things’?

Why am I talking in questions?

Please review (or rate! I like those too – kinda like mini marshmallows, the big ones are awesome but the little ones will do if you don’t have the big ones… I’m sorry guys, I’ve had too much sugar. It’s f***s me up. Seriously.)

Let me know what you thought!