Serenity�s Requiem

Title:Serenity’s Requiem
Chapter: 3/?
Author: Rue
Rating: M
Pairings: Eventual LxRaito

Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by the creator of Death Note. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

Warnings: AU, Yaoi, murder, crime, disturbing psychology, and future sexual situations.

Summary: Yaoi.Raito decides to become his own anonymous detective, Kira, when L refuses his attempts to work with him. It isn’t long before rivals Kira and L are equally notorious, and a competition comes to them in the form of a gruesome, mocking murderer named B.


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Chapter Two -Arrogance and Humility


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--

For all his learning or sophistication, man still instinctively reaches towards that force beyond. Only arrogance can deny its existence, and the denial falters in the face of evidence on every hand. -Hal Borland

--

“Fucking shit in hell, Mello, you mother fucking bastard!”

“I think that’s your record for how many times you’ve cussed in one sentence, Matt,” replied said ‘fucking bastard’, kicking his feet up on the desk in front of him and gazing at the ceiling.

“Like hell, you ass. You just fucking broke my new PQ, I was just about to beat the fifth boss!” Matt was glaring at him, holding the pieces of his broken video game in his hands. “Do you even know what that means?”

“Not really.” Mello shrugged, smirking, looking at the shards unflinchingly. It had been making the most annoying beeping sound and Mello had been happy to feel it crush beneath his combat boot.

“It means I’m going to shove the broken pieces of it in a very uncomfortable pla -”

“Aren’t you a little too old to play video games?” Mello sighed, looking over at his best friend, who was much too attached to material items for his liking. Mello liked his chocolate, that was it. Matt always seemed to have something in his hands, be it an alcohol bottle, a cigarette, a computer or one of his damn video games that made continuous bleeping sounds.

“Aren’t you a little to old to believe in Santa Clause?” Matt responded sardonically.

“I don’t believe in Santa Clause.”

“Oh, right -that’s God,” Matt smacked his forehead mockingly, “I get the two mixed up, y’see, seeing as neither of them exist.”

Mello’s eyes flashed and he sat up straight, yanking his feet off the table.

“Go to hell, Matt!”

“According to you, I already am,” replied the red head, his mouth curling into a wry smile now that he had the upper hand of the argument again.

“I should kick your mother fucking ass, you retard!” Mello seethed, taking a hold of his rosary as though attempting to protect it from his friend’s blasphemous words.

“Are you even allowed to say ‘mother fucking’?” Matt pretended to think about it honestly, “Isn’t incest a sin or something?”

“Why the hell do I hang out with you?”

“Because I’m the shit, that’s why,” Matt countered, flopping back into his chair and leaving the pieces of his game on the ground. There was nothing he could do about it, after all. He’d just get Watari to buy him another one -it was only a two hundred pounds (around 20000 yan, he guessed) and it wasn’t like the old man couldn’t afford it.

“Might have something to do with the fact we work together,” Mello hissed, searching for the chocolate he’d left on the desk with his left hand blindly, his eyes occupied with glaring at the gamer.

“No, I’m pretty sure it’s ‘cuz I’m awesome.”

“No, it’s -damn it, where the hell is my chocolate!?” Mello ignored the fight he was currently having, and looked at the desk. There was no silver wrapped slim bar of chocolaty in sight. “Where the -?”

“I believe,” droned a clear voice from across the room, “That Matt took it, feeling the need to repay you for the destruction of his game.”

“Wh -!” Mello’s head spun to Near, curled up in the corner, putting together one of his puzzles until L returned, and then snapped back to a very smug looking Matt. “Give. It. Back.”

“Give what back, Mello? The only evidence that I have anything of yours is from Near -and we both know he’s not the most honest person in the world,” Matt looked at Near, “No offence, bro.”

“You do understand that although we grew up together, we are not biologically related.”

“So?”

“Give me my chocolate, damn it, or so help me I will -”

“Mello, Matt, I daresay that you’re much too vocal for this time of morning,” Watari stated, waltzing into the room with L slouching behind him. Upon seeing L, Mello and Matt closed their mouths, not wanting to upset L after he’d just woken up.

The man didn’t sleep much, partly because he got more work done that way, but mostly because when he did, and he woke up, he was cranky bastard. It took five cups of tea and at least seven different sweets to get him back to normal, which was, incidentally, not very normal at all.

“I concur,” L said, rubbing his eyes and plopping himself into the chair, pulling himself into his normal crouch lazily. Watari informed him that he would bring him his sweets and tea immediately, and L nodded distantly as the older man left. “Please tell me you’ve been doing something other than arguing the entire time I was incapacitated.”

L never referred to sleep as sleep. Unconscious, incapacitated, temporarily cataleptic…but never sleep.

“Why do you look at me when you say that?” Mello grumbled, and picked up his paper handing it to L, who took it. They’d spent the last three hours that had been ‘indisposed’ researching the nine murders that had taken place simultaneously all over the world. Near stayed in the corner, playing with his hair and putting together his puzzle, silently waiting for work to begin again.

While L was preoccupied, Mello took his opportunity to get his chocolate back.

Even if he had to pry it out of Matt’s cold, stiff fingers after he beat him into a blood pulp.

--

L read the papers, his mind almost completely alert but easily irritated as his wide eyes scanned quickly. The murders all occurred at the same time, in the same way. Two in North America (LA and New York) , two in China (Hong Kong and Beijing) , one in Japan (Tokyo), one in Canada (Ontario), one in South America (Hagatna, Guam) , one in England (London) and one in France (Paris).

They were each drugged and then chopped in half at the waste. Then the bodies are posed, one horizontal and the other vertical...which was the shape of an L, obviously. L. The house of each room was wiped down completely, thoroughly, some better than others, but each wiped down just the same.

By posing the bodies that that shape… he was practically saying 'Does this catch your attention, L?' Whoever it was…apparently was either a complete lunatic, or actually had a personal vendetta against him. L was both surprised and…not so surprised. Being the best detective in the world required making some enemies, and turning down quite a few allies. For secrecy reasons, and because there was just no way around it. When your were successful, people wanted that success, wanted to bring you down. He actually go quite a few offers from police men and government agents all of the world to work with him, and he never answered any of them with anything but 'no'.

In fact, there had been one from Japan, he remembered, that Watari had tried to talk him in to taking...but the way L saw it was, if the people were really that good, he would have found them. Besides, he already had three young people to train, he didn't need to worry about another person with so little experience, he didn't have time to mentor anyone else, even if he wanted to.

L had took to training his three most promising successors in person three years ago, and had time for little else. He worked on his cases, mentored his charges and, just recently, took to trying to find out who the hell Kira was. But that was just for fun, a hobby really…He wasn’t worried at all, because although this man -whoever he may be -might be as smart as he was. He was still L, and it had taken him over fifteen years to build up the reputation he had.

There was a very little possibility of this Kira ever catching up.

“The eyes are open,” L stated, cocking his head to the side. “On the corpses. They were drugged first…they should be sleeping.”

“Yeah, we noticed,” Matt nodded, “That means the perps opened them after death. The hell is that supposed to mean?”

“If we knew,” L replied just as Watari entered the rook with a tray full of cakes, treats and candies and a pitcher of tea. “Then this wouldn’t exactly be a case, would it?”

“True,” Mello conceded. L went back to reading the papers and began to file the victim's information in his head.

USA, Los Angelos: Brilliance Bottlecap. Female. Age 20. Waitress.

USA, New York City: Dark Dreaming. Male. Age 32. Accountant.

China, Hong Kong: Divide Dynasty. Male. Age 15. Student.

China, Beijing: Silk Shi. Female. Age 19. Student. Fast Food Employee.

Japan, Tokyo: Kimono Kanji. Female. Age 37. Housewife.

Canada, Ontario: Wing Waterfall. Male. Age 45. Biologist.

Guam, Hagatna: Beach Bubblebath. Male. Age 26. Professional Diver.

England, London: Honor Hourglass. Male. Age 28. Police Officer.

France, Paris: Tower Trapdoor. Male. Age 60. Author.

There was little in common about their jobs and ages, they all lived in large, main cities, but L felt there was a 95 percent chance that was for publicity purposes only. Their names were all alliterative, and they were all killed at the same time in the same way…but other than those things, they had practically nothing in common.

L shook his head and finished reading, putting the paper down.

“There is good news and bad news,” L told him, and each of them gave him their attention in their own way. Matt gave a curt nod, and stopped typing, Mello looked directly at him, and Near paused slightly at the words, and then continued on, slower now and still putting together the puzzle, but attentive.

“That’s how is always is, isn’t it?” Matt snorted when L paused to take a sip of his tea. He withheld a grimace and dropped a few sugar cubes in, then took a bite out of an éclair.

“The good news is that I am 99 percent sure of who the murderer is,” L stated, rolling his eyes up to the ceiling. This made even Near look up from his puzzle.

“You…what?” Mello asked, eyes wide.

“Do you remember B?” L inquired, holding the other half of his éclair precariously between his thumb and forefinger.

“Well, fucking yeah, he’s sort of hard to forget,” Matt scoffed, shifting his goggles a bit as they dug into his nose. “I was only thirteen but…he was a bit of a loony.”

“A bit,” Mello rolled his eyes, “That’s the understatement of the fucking year, Matt. He was mental -sore on the face of humanity. Dressed up exactly like L, that stupid -”

“I assure you that B is anything but stupid Mello,” L stated, plopping the rest of his creamy, chocolate glazed cake into his mouth. Through a mouth full of soft filling, he spoke again, “Near, do you ?”

“Remember B?” Near scratched the back of his head shortly before resuming the twirling of his lock, resting his hand on the one knee that was in the air, “Yes, of course. I believe he left August 3rd, twelve years ago.”

“That’s correct,” L nodded, and popped a small cookie into his mouth.

“So you believe B is behind these murders,” Near said next, tugging a bit on his white tresses. “I suppose that is a high probability. He did have a certain need for your attention, and he seemed to have a very unstable mind, there is a significant chance that you are correct in your assumption.”

“Yes, I thought so too,” L nodded, looking to Matt and Mello, who were contemplating this. They seemed to have no rebukes, no arguments against the theory. Of course, L knew they would think of nothing. He had thought of it objectively, looking at every angle -no, it was almost certain that B was behind this.

“So we know who the murderer is,” Mello’s brow furrowed, “But how did he do it? A single person can’t kill that many people at once, all over the world. That’s impossible.”

“Which means,” Near shrugged shortly, “That he did no do it alone. He must of have accomplices, at least nine of them.”

“Yeah, I mean, the fact that some of them weren’t wiped as thoroughly as others is a testimony to that,” Matt agreed, “But fuck, how’d he get that many people to cooperate?”

“Well, he’s had twelve years to gather up criminals and force them to work for him,” Mello replied, looking at his friend and brushing a piece of blond hair out of his eyes, “I mean, he could gain a lot of trust and allies during that period of time.”

“Do we know B’s real name?” Matt asked curiously, but L shook his head.

Mello turned back to L and tore open his newly recovered chocolate, that had been sitting in his hand during the revelation.

“I’m thinking maybe the mafia.”

“No, that is very unlikely,” L responded immediately, “They would have gotten at least two people to go in, and at each scene there is only witnesses and proof of one person entering. Not to mention…while some of the murders were executed brilliantly, others were sloppy…frankly, I think the mafia, with all their experience, would do a better job.”

“Yeah, one of them even looked like it was done by a fucking doctor,” Matt sniffed and ran a hand through his hair, slouching in his seat, “Damn, I mean, just…that bleeding wrong. Doctor using his medical training to better cut a person in two, y’know?”

“It’s not the first time,” L responded and bit down on his thumb after taking a sip of tea, “It doesn’t matter who they are. They’re equal in their injustice.”

“Yeah,” Matt sat up and dug in the pocket of his vest, fishing out a cigarette packet, “I need a smoke. I’ll be on the roof, get me if anything ha -”

Beep.

Matt blinked behind his goggles and looked at his computer, and put his pack of down again and clicked, telling the others in the room, “We’ve got mail.”

He opened the window and started reading informing L, Near and Mello, “Dude, B sent us messages.”

“What?” Mello blinked, turning to his won computer just as L did the same to his own. Even Near walked over to his designated computer, something he rarely did. He didn’t really need or like computers, content for someone else to print it out or read it to him.

L’s eyes scanned the two small poems -or riddles, whatever they were -and memorized them, his brain immediately going to work on figuring them out.

John likes girls who bleed,

Dreams every angel tempts him,

Recites scriptures in his sleep

Is invisible to justice’s whim.

John. An actual person? Was that a hint at one of the murderers…? No, no, B wouldn’t be that stupid, he wouldn’t give something like that away and risk being betrayed. So it meant something else. Girls who bleed…was that…the menstrual cycle? L stopped his nose from wrinkling at the thought. B certainly was a strange guy…it really wasn’t much of a surprise that he became a criminal…

Criminal. L blinked, and immediately his hands flew to the computer, checking up on the facts. He wasn’t totally versed in this case, although he knew about it because it was unsolved…The page pulled up, and he read it quickly, nibbling his thumb.

“Did you find something, then?” Mello asked, noting L’s particularly enthusiastic chewing.

“Shut the fuck up and look on you own instead of mooching off L’s clues, ya leech,” Matt snapped playfully, and Mello scowled, but ignored him.

“So? Did you get something?”

“I believe that B is alluding to the serial killer known as Bible John,” L informed them, “The three victims that were found of his were all coincidently on their premenstrual syndrome, thus the ‘John liking girls who bleed’. He was also thought to be a very religious man, therefore the name Bible John, and the poem says that he recites scriptures in his seat.”

“I remember that case,” Mello lean back in the computer chair until it threatened to fall over, “I read about it. It’s never been solved. Invisible to justice’s whim…”

“Yes, exactly,” L nodded, “However I fail to see what this has to do with anything to do with his case, is he trying to hint that he knows something about it?”

“Maybe there isn’t hidden meaning at all,” Matt suggested helpfully, “Maybe he just wants to fuck with our minds.”

“The next one is contradictory,” Near interrupted their tossing of idea. L thought that was probably best anyway, since they had figured out a bit of the first one. Perhaps the second poem would give then a clue as to what to do with the first one. L looked back at the next message.

I have four spheres

But I am not round

I am in a prison of water

But I do not drown.

What am I?

“The definition of a sphere is a globular body, therefore it must be round,” Near pointed out, his finger tightening in his hair just vaguely.

“It’s a riddle, Near, think outside of the box.” Mello rolled his eyes and frowned.

“What about Kira?” said a gravelly voice from the doorway, where Watari had just entered. The man walked in and looked directly at L, “It says at the bottom of the email that the top four detectives in the world were put in this case because it’s so international, and three of them are you. The fourth is technically since you have no other equal competition...Kira…what do you plan do about him?”

“That’s simple,” L replied, running the tip of his thumb across the front of his teeth, “Absolutely nothing.”

“Do you really think that’s wise…?”

“I am already ahead of Kira in this case, for I know who the killer is,” L told Watari easily, thinking through the second riddle thoroughly as he spoke, “It would be interesting to know who he is, but I am not going to focus too much on him. It isn’t as important as catching criminals. Besides, there is less than a ten percent chance of him catching up to me, and even less of him taking my place as the best detective in the world. I am not worried.”

Watari paused, pursed his lips, shook his head and then walked back out, leaving the young detectives to their puzzle.

Although L had to admit, there was something very satisfying about the fact he knew something Kira didn't.

The thing about governments is, that whenever the best person for the job is going through some sort of hard time or scandal, they are quick to jump to the second best, regardless of the best’s qualifications. Or fourth best. Most of the time, this wasn’t a good thing, but for Yagami Raito, it was.

Under other circumstances, he would have never been asking onto such a high profile case, but it just so happened that the government didn’t want to be completely dependant on L. Or the other two that seemed to at least be in league with the detective. So then Raito was brought onto the case, and was more than pleased by this accomplishment.

If he were to solve this case instead of L, his notoriety would skyrocket.

At the moment he was becoming even more successful in Japan. A news reporter (if one was flattering) from Sakura Television was jealous of Takada’s ratings, and thought the way to improve was to report Kira’s cases more than she did. Demegawa was his name, a greedy, pig of a man -and Raito found him repulsive -but he also was thankful for the publicity that the man inadvertently gave him.

Matsuda handed Raito his coffee with a smile and plopped down in the seat next to him, “So, find anything new?”

“I figured out the second riddle,” Raito offered flippantly, having done so over fifteen minutes ago. It wasn’t actually that difficult, but Matsuda gasped.

“Really? That’s amazing!” Matsuda leaned forward as though what Raito was going to tell him was a secret that was to be whispered in a crowded room, not a fact to be said in the emptiness of the hotel room, “So what is it?”

“I have four spheres, but I am not round,” Raito recited dispassionately, sipping his coffee, “I am in a prison of water, but I do not drown. Four spheres, surrounded by water…the brain.”

Matsuda blinked, then gaped, “Whoa, I would have never thought of that. You got that Bible John one practically immediately -you’re so good, Raito-kun.”

Raito nodded, resisting the urge to say ‘Of course I am’ and instead turning back to his computer, crossing one leg over the other. Matsuda provided a purpose, he reminded himself, he needed him to run his errands and talk to people in person. At least the man hadn’t been completely useless on the cases either; although his intellect was nothing compared to Raito’s, he was able to think more simply, while Raito tended to overanalyze. It had helped him more than once.

“Oh, hey, you’re sister called!” Matsuda said, grinning slightly, “Said you should come over for dinner Friday, said not to worry because you’re dad wont be home that night.”

That didn’t sound particularly appealing, father or no. Having a family was particularly burdensome when trying to be anonymously successful, for one thing, and his father and him weren’t on the best of terms aside from an occasional visit from Soichiro whenever he felt the urge to try to talk his son into rejoining the NPA. The man wasn't angry per se, but he’d been severely disappointed in Raito when the young man had left the NPA with very little reasoning.

The formal report said that he planned on having a family soon, and that he didn’t want to put them in danger in that kind of job, which many agents understood. Soichiro, however, knew better. He knew that his son had no girlfriend, and no plans for children -and had demanded Raito tell him the real excuse. So Raito had informed him that it ‘just wasn’t what he was interested in doing anymore’.

Soichiro made it a point to give him a certain look every time they saw each other that only disappointed fathers could pull off. However, that didn’t mean he could deprive his sister and mother just because his father was making him uncomfortable.

Raito nodded and pulled his cell phone out of his pocket, “Which number did she call from, home or cell?”

“Uh -” Matsuda paused, “Home. No, no, cell.”

“Well,” Raito suppressed a sigh, “Which is it, Matsuda?”

“Cell, I’m sure!” Matsuda nodded furiously, and smiled widely, scratching the back of his head.

“Sayu Cell,” Raito spoke into his phone and it immediately flipped to the window with the 25-year-old’s number on it. He was about to say ‘Call’ when his the phone in his hand began to ring. Raito frowned, found the person calling was Teru, and said instead, “Answer.”

There was a click.

“Hello?”

“Raito,” Teru greeted smoothly, “I’m on my way over to your hotel. I have information that is of importance to you.”

“What information?” Raito asked, holding the phone just a little bit tighter. Teru only called for good reasons. “And how important?”

“Extremely important,” Teru answered, “Information that could put you ahead of L, something he doesn’t know. I just figured it out today, because of the letters from the killer.”

“Is there a particular reason you’re stalling, or are you just trying to be an asshole?” Raito inquired impatiently, excited despite himself. He didn’t allow it to show, for Matsuda was still sitting in front of him, watching him expectantly, waiting for the conversation with Teru to end so he could be in on what the new information was.

Teru chuckled softly, “I apologize. Two weeks before the murder, a blank crossword puzzle was mailed to our office.”

“Aren’t they supposed to be blank?” Raito replied quickly, “Isn’t the point to fill them out?”

“I don’t mean the boxes were blank, I mean the place where the clues were supposed to be,” Teru clarified, and there was a hesitation where Raito was almost positive that Teru was straightening his glasses. “There was two letters scribbled on the back, though. K.K.”

Raito narrowed his eyes, “K.K….as in Kimono Kanji, the woman who was killed in Japan -wait, Teru, where did you say you found this crossword?”

“Two weeks before the murders it was mailed to the courthouse I work in,” Teru explained, “There was nothing to do with it, so people wanted to throw it away, and I -”

“Filed it,” Raito finished, and heard a light scratching noise as Teru nodded against his phone. “That’s…great. If there was one for Japan, the killer sent it to the other countries too.”

“I should imagine so,” Teru agreed passively, “You should check it out. I’m pulling into the lot right now, I am bringing the crossword puzzle to you. I shall see you in a moment.”

“Good. Thank you, Teru,” Raito responded shortly, hanging up. Matsuda blinked as Raito stood up and walked over to the window.

A head start. He knew something no one else did. Something L didn’t know. He was already ahead of the man, and the self righteous bastard was going to go down. Raito smirked, lifting up his hand to his forehead to shield his eyes from the rising sun as he looked out the window and into the dull blue sky. L would soon be falling faster than the speed of light, lower than he’d ever fallen before…

And L wouldn’t even know what hit him.

--

All too often arrogance accompanies strength, and we must never assume that justice is on the side of the strong. The use of power must always be accompanied by moral choice.-Theodore Bikel

--

I was trying to keep the naming thing up, strange words that aren’t really names, but sort of pass for one. The author of DN: Another Note said he did this because he wanted to make the victims impersonal, and didn’t want any of the victims to share their name with a real person.

PQ, that game Matt was talking about, is merely a fabrication. I figured it’s in the future, so there would be a new video game. Think of it as an advance PSP.

I hope I answered the question about Watari. He knows, but he’s not telling L. Why would he? There’s no harm that it’ll do for L not to know, and if he does find out eventually, if anything it will be a lesson in not underestimating people. :) That’s just the way I see it anyway.

Hm...about the seme/uke thing...I'm a definite L-seme fan. However, I don't believe in Raito being a true submissive little blushing writhing thing, either, although that's undeniably hot for PWP's. Raito will be uke, but in a realistic way, they will technically be equals; there won't be 'the girl' stereotype...I don't truly believe he's a uke, he's just more uke than L, or less seme. :P

So many reviews. (swoons) Thank you so much! (hugs all of you) I love all of them. Thank you for your constructive criticism and complements. It’s all MUCH appreciated.

Again, reviews make me a happy panda…and who wants to see a panda cry? I mean, really. O O

--Rue