This Black Lamb

This Black Lamb

AU Deathnote

L x Raito

Disclaimer: I do not own Deathnote or any of its characters. If I did, Misa and Takada would go hump each other and leave Raito’s gay ass alone. O O

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Chapter 4 - Omens

Raito watched the giant screen intently, though his posture was relaxed as he leaned against the ally wall. His body language was the exact opposite of the crowd filling the sidewalk and street in front of him, most of them tense, some frantic, with an abundance of exclamations filling the air. He had been there for about ten minutes, on his walk back to what he thought of as his usual ally. He had left Ryuk there for the day, promising to bring him back an apple if he was good, and let Raito have some time to himself to relax.

So much for that.

It was only five more minutes before Raito got bored and had all the information he needed. He was convinced, not that he hadn’t been from the start. Still, Ryuk had some explaining to do. He continually tossed the apple in the air, catching it gently in his hand so it didn’t bruise. He allowed his mind to wander in the time it took him to get back to the Shinigami, just taking peace in the meaningless stroll. It was… nice, in its inefficiency. Just a walk for the sake of walking, not heading to or from school, or off on some errand for his mother. Just doing it because he felt like it. He had been doing a lot of that lately.

And he had to admit that he was growing to like it. Despite the fact that he had no money, more often than not only managed to scrounge a meal a day, and pretty much looked like a car crash… there was something about being on his own, making his own decisions for once that just put him at ease.

He stopped his line of thought as he spotted a twisted, dark, rather grotesque form in the gloom of his new “home.” Raising an eyebrow, he was rather unimpressed with Ryuk’s withdrawal symptoms. Besides, he found it fitting punishment for the Shinigami, due to the development he had just been informed of.

“Raito, Raito, did you bring an apple?” Ryuk sounded so eager, and was practically drooling as he hopped closer. Raito’s grip on the apple tightened slightly.

“Yes, I brought an apple Ryuk.”

“Yay! Apple! Give it here, give it here!” One of Ryuk’s hands snaked out to grab the deep red fruit, but Raito jerked it out of reach before the Shinigami had a chance to claim it.

“But I don’t think I’m going to give it to you.”

There was an eruption of indignation and confusion from the Shinigami, as he heartily protested Raito’s apparent “starvation” and “mistreatment” of his so-called “partner.” Raito smirked, amused, as he sat down on an empty crate, watching the Shinigami contort and complain, before he finally moved towards the groveling and begging route. He should have known it would do him no good. Raito was not inclined to do anything about Ryuk’s “apparent deprivation.”

“Ryuk.” He finally spoke, interrupting the latest barrage of gargled pleas. “When were you going to tell me there were more Deathnotes in human possession?”

Ryuk’s silence was enough of the answer, and Raito brought the apple to his own mouth, biting in with a satisfying crunch.

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Namikawa had been enjoying a nice evening at home when it happened. Nothing unusual had happened that day, and he had been pleased to open the newspaper that morning and see Yotsuba’s stock had risen a few dollars. Higuchi’s replacement was adapting to their job quite nicely, and had quickly filling the roles his “dearly departed” acquaintance had left understaffed. He had come home a bit early even, writing a few names down in the Deathnote, feeding Gukku his usual dinner of ramen, beef this time, and sitting down to the evening news.

Only to watch as the news anchor dropped dead of a heart attack right in the middle of an interesting segment on cloned cow meat. Shrugging it off, rather jaded to the subject of death at this point, he punched the channel button a few times, finally finding another suitable news channel.

Only to watch the news anchor suffer from cardiac arrest ten minutes later.

His hand shook on the remote, his eyes glazing.

One heart attack was an unfortunate accident. Two was flirting on the border of coincidence and there-is-no-fucking-way. Three, and there was no other explanation but…

He frantically clicked the button a few more times, coming onto a channel just in time to watch another reporter being dragged off camera, as the man clutched his chest.

Oh dear. This was… it couldn’t be? Right?

“Gukku?”

He heard a few ineligible mumbles from the Shinigami, as it attempted to respond without removing its snout from its dinner. Shaking his head slightly, he turned, throwing one arm over the back of the couch. He regarded the Shinigami with serious eyes, trying to ignore how cute and… fluffy the thing looked as it slurped at it’s food, it’s long nose completely buried in the cup and eyes half lidded in contentment.

Shinigami weren’t supposed to be “cute” or “fluffy” or “sweet”… he was pretty sure there was a rule about that somewhere…

“Were any Deathnotes dropped onto Earth, other than mine?”

It took a minute as the monster considered the question, though he suspected it was delaying more to finish its supper than to think about anything. Finally, with one last gulp, it put the cup down, turning its head to the side and regarding him with one eye. He kept it’s gaze steadily, unwilling to back down.

“Well, yeah… I know for sure that Ryuk dropped Deridovely’s notebook too, and maybe his own and some others, can’t really be sure. After all, knowing Ryuk, he probably got as many notebooks as he could and just dropped them for the hell of it, though… I don’t think he’d drop his own. At least, not on purpose, he doesn’t do things that might be bad for him. Other Shinigami or humans, on the other hand… And I heard these rumors about Rem, and Gelus, so who knows at thi-”

“That’s enough, thank you.” Namikawa rubbed his temples, trying to sooth the headache gained by listening to his Shinigami’s incoherent babbling. Really, he liked Gukku, really he did, but the Shinigami was an idiot. Point blank. Stark raving mad. And who the hell were all those people anyway?

“Okay, Gukku, let’s start slow. First of all, who is Ryuk?”

“Ryuk’s a buddy of mine. He’s the one that tricked me out of my Deathnote and dropped it.”

And he’s still your friend? Namikawa couldn’t help but think. But he wasn’t going to say it… he still wasn’t exactly sure how emotional Gukku was, or whether he’d get insulted or huffy or refuse to answer his questions if he asked something like that. So he would just avoid making derogatory comments until they had known each other a bit longer.

“Okay, so Ryuk is a Shinigami who dropped your notebook. Next, who’s Deridovely?”

“He’s my gambling partner. Ryuk dropped his notebook too, so I know for sure he’s down here on Earth with his Deathnote as well.”

It occurred to him that Gukku and Deridovely must be pretty dumb even by Shinigami standards, if this Ryuk was able to trick them out of their notebooks so easily. Speaking of which…

“Is Ryuk down here on Earth as well?”

“Don’t know. I’d say no, since Ryuk wouldn’t give up his notebook so easy, but its hard to say. You never quite know what Ryuk’s thinking sometimes.”

Okay. That was one for sure, and one maybe. Better than it could have been.

“And this Rem? Gelus?”

“Oh, you don’t have to worry about Gelus, he’s dead.” Shinigami could die? That was interesting… “But Rem, hm, she’s like Ryuk, hard one to read. She picked up Gelus’s note after he crumbled-” Pardon? Crumbled? “-so now she’s got two of the things. Don’t know what she was gonna do with two, but I did hear something about a human girl Gelus was interested in…”

Lovely, another- no, if the Shinigami had two notebooks, two more maybes. This was getting more complicated than he was comfortable with. Add that to the fact that Gukku probably didn’t have all the facts… ugh. If he’d known it would get this complicated, he wouldn’t have picked up the blasted notebook in the first place!

…Okay, so he still would have picked it up. But this was turning into the biggest migraine of his life, that was for sure.

“Oi, boss, don’t worry so much.”

He raised an eyebrow. He had no idea where the “boss” had come from, but he wasn’t going to complain. Gukku seemed like the follower type anyway, so that made him the leader of their duo.

…He couldn’t believe he’d just called them a duo. His head must be worse than he thought.

“And why shouldn’t I worry, pray tell?”

“Cause, even if there are more than two Deathnotes down here right now, there can never be more than six on Earth at once. Part of the rules, I think.”

…

Six?

Was that supposed to make him feel better, or worse?

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Sachiko carefully wrapped the last of the onigiri, gently placing it in the bottom of the clean, polished black bento in front of her and closing it up. She lifted it with as much care as she had in her, walking into the dining room and placing it next to a rather beaten, bright pink bento she had finished packing just minutes before.

She had only a few seconds to wait before she heard one - only one - pair of feet pounding down the stairs, as dark pigtails came bouncing into view. She smiled at her cute daughter, bidding her a good day at school as the child grabbed her pink encased lunch, hurrying out the door with her shoes untied and pigtails uneven.

And she was left alone, her husband busy at work, her daughter running so as not to be late to school, and her son-

…and her son, gone.

She stared at the perfect bento in front of her, not a scratch on it’s smooth, polished black surface. It was full of easy, healthy, bland food, what Raito usually ate, with a special little treat Sachiko knew he always ended up giving or throwing away. Her son was just like that, unable to eat anything outside of his perfect diet. But he always thanked her for that special treat anyway, when he came home.

Her sweet, sweet little boy.

She laid her head down beside the bento, and cried for what seemed the hundredth time.

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Sayu slowed to a walk as she turned round the last corner, her school just at the end of the block. She was actually a little early today. Had actually been a little early for weeks. She supposed that was a good thing, in its own way…

But she was only early because there was nobody there to stop her on her way, to fix her makeup, or point out her untied shoes, or fix a lock of her hair behind one ear. There were no warm, caring, protective hands, no beautiful brown gold locks, no amber eyes to watch her back as she ran off. There was… nothing.

Her friends all told her it was okay to cry. Her teachers all said it was understandable if she was upset about her brother’s disappearance. Her parents said absolutely nothing. So she wouldn’t either.

They were being strong about this, just like Raito would have been strong, had it been the other way around, and Sayu were the one to go missing. Of course he would be upset - who wouldn’t if their adorable little sister was just GONE one day? - but he would maintain his control, never let someone see him down. Never let stupid questions and sympathy from people who just didn’t understand get to him, because he was Raito. Her wonderful, missing big brother.

And she tried not to think the m-word, cause that made her eyes hurt and burn, and she wasn’t about to cry. She really wasn’t! Because Raito wouldn’t want her to cry, it would mess up her makeup, and then he’d have to fix it for her again, and straighten her uniform, and wait with her until her face stopped being blotchy and red…

And she wouldn’t cry. She had to make her brother proud. Because he was coming home, one day, she knew it. Daddy was looking for him, but she knew he wouldn’t find him. Raito wasn’t the type of person to be found. No, he would just waltz back in one day, as if he had never been gone at all, and straighten her pigtails and fix her makeup and make sure she looked just as pretty as she could be. Because that was just the way her big brother was.

And until then, when made sure her hair was always a little messy, her clothes a little wrinkled, and her makeup wasn’t perfect. That way, when Raito came home…

…He’d know that she’d been waiting for him.

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“…So, you’re absolutely sure that’s all the Deathnotes on Earth right now?”

“Those are all the one’s I know about. There might be more I don’t. May I have an apple now, please, please?!”

Raito finally gave in, tossing Ryuk the apple he had snitched earlier that day. It had taken three days of withdrawal before Ryuk had finally given in and told him what he needed to know, but the Shinigami’s addiction had gotten strong. Still, Raito had more important things to worry about than Ryuk’s obsession with fruit…

The fact that there were three + Deathnotes currently in the human world, for instance.

He knew, on some level, that it didn’t affect him all that much, while at the same time it did… It didn’t, for the simple fact that Raito wasn’t going to use the Deathnote, no matter how much the goddamn note tried to get him to. It had toned down after Ryuk’s arrival, apparently admitting defeat for the time being. Raito was beyond grateful for that. While temptation wasn’t something he had much of a problem ignoring, annoying little pests was another thing altogether.

But it did affect him since he didn’t know how the other Deathnote owners would react to their new power. Or how they would use it. Business influence, settle old grudges, hell, world domination… the list was endless. Personally, Raito didn’t want to have any part in the whole mess, but he didn’t really have an option. As long as he had Ryuk and the notebook, he was a possible threat to the other owners, at least, that’s how he would likely be viewed. And pretty smiles and prettier lies couldn’t erase the Shinigami floating around behind him…

But how would they know he had a Deathnote? They couldn’t see Ryuk, not unless they touched his note, and there wasn’t a chance of that. Raito kept the notebook on his person at all times, and he wasn’t about to let anyone get close enough to touch it… But still, it couldn’t hurt to ask.

“Ryuk.”

“Yeah?”

“Is there any way for someone to tell I’m a Deathnote holder, just from looking at me?”

“Um…” Ryuk’s eyes rolled up to the sky in contemplation as his limbs slowly untangled, his addiction sated for the moment. “Well, there are no physical signs on the human body to tell, and people can’t see me unless they touch the Deathnote, but… well. They have Shinigami’s too, ya know? I’m not sure whether or not they’re allowed to tell when they see another Shinigami, and there’s also the eye deal to consider…”

“Pardon? Eye deal?”

“Oh yeah, haven’t told you about that yet… didn’t really see the point, since you aren’t writing names in your Deathnote or nothing. But, in any case, you could make a deal with me to get Shinigami eyes, which would show you the name and lifespan of any person you happened to see at any given time.”

“And in return?”

“Huh?”

“Don’t play dumb with me Ryuk. I know damn good and well that to get those, I’d have to give up something of ‘equal value’ and all that rot. So, what would it be?”

“Uh… half your remaining lifespan.”

That gave Raito pause, but only for a moment or two. “You know, I beginning to think not using the Deathnote was the best decision of my life. God forbid I ever feel tempted by a crappy deal like that.”

Tuning out Ryuk’s grumbling, Raito leaned back against the wall, allowing his shoulders to slump in a manner he never would have gotten away with at home. He hadn’t realized how relaxing it was not to hold yourself up at all times, to just let yourself relax and drift along occasionally. But still, he had issues at hand. He was in possession of a Deathnote, as were a minimum of at least two others, possibly three or more. Ryuk knew too little about the rules, or wasn’t telling Raito all he did know, creating a large margin of error and unknown factors in the equation. Then there were the owners themselves, who he knew nothing about… not even who they were, or how they would react to his presence. And if they made the deal Ryuk had mentioned, it was possible that they might be able to tell he had a Deathnote just from looking at him, as well as the fact that they would know his name… All of which was problematic when a name and a face were all they needed to kill. And he could be completely unaware all the while, up until the moment of his death…

That didn’t sit too well. No, not well at all.

Sighing, he pushed himself off the wall, walking over to stand in front of Ryuk. Eyeing the Shinigami critically, he felt the beginnings of a plan begin to form in his mind.

His life was in jeopardy, just when he was beginning to enjoy it. He was at an impasse with multiple unknown enemies, currently homeless, with no way to defend himself. It was quickly coming down to a kill or be killed situation.

But he wouldn’t use the Deathnote. No, if he was going to kill someone, he’d do it with his own hands, thank you very much. He didn’t plan on it coming down to that anyway. No, he would prefer the odds of caught or be caught.

He would just have to catch the other owner’s of the Deathnotes first. He would find them, trick them, and take their notebooks. Then, he would be safe. Maybe he’d turn them into the police if he felt like it. Who knew, maybe he’d be feeling generous that day and let them walk away? It was his decision, in the end.

His decision. He liked that.

“Raito?”

Ryuk had noticed him staring. Well, no use in delaying the inevitable. If he was going to start hunting down the other “Shinigami,” first thing came fist…

He was going to need some money.

“Ryuk, I don’t suppose you’ve ever learned how to juggle?”

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Soichiro Yagami was doing his very best not to think. He had been doing so for the last few weeks, and so far, had been very unsuccessful in the endeavor. After all, thinking was an important part of his job as a police officer. But… he just couldn’t find it in himself to try and concentrate on work, on cases, on anything at the moment.

Anything but Raito. But he was trying hard not to think about that either. It hurt too much.

Because then he would start thinking, and wondering. Where was his son? Was he okay? Was he even alive? And he’d have to stop there, as his mind went numb, and he felt a buzzing inside his scull. Somehow, it almost sounded like the sound a heart monitor would make when there was no pulse, when they died, and it was all because he thought of Raito. Raito and the sound of a heart stopping because it was dead, and then - he’d just have to stop.

He had to stop thinking of Raito, and what might be happening to him at the moment. But not thinking of the Raito in the now led to thinking of the Raito in the past. His perfect son, and how proud he had been of all his accomplishments, his mind, his manners, his everything. His perfect son.

Bu then he’d wonder where he went wrong.

Had he not given Raito everything he needed? A home, food, education, clothes… everything a little boy could ever need? Had he not given him attention? Well… he had been at work most of the time, but whenever he was home he’d tell Raito how proud he was, and to keep up the hard work. Was that it? Had he been neglectful, or pushed Raito too hard? Was that what had gone wrong?

Then he’d wonder if it wasn’t his profession, in the police. He was always getting into dangerous situations out on the field, or dealing with the paperwork and cleanup from the incidents if he wasn’t. Or maybe it was that he put his family in danger, like that time they had been held hostage. The time the kidnapper had held his gun to little Raito’s head, and those amber eyes had gone wide and blank in terror. But then the kidnapper was shot down, his son had landed in a pool of the man’s blood, and-

“Daddy, look at the butterfly!”

-No, he wouldn’t - couldn’t - think about that. Because that was his child, there in that blood, smiling so sweetly like the little angel he was, and he hadn’t been covered in blood, really he hadn’t, just his hands…

No, he wasn’t going there.

But he would ask himself, if perhaps he son was crazy. Maybe that’s why he ran away. He had been in therapy, so much therapy, after all, for almost half his life…

And then he’d think, he’d think maybe that was what drove his son away. The endless sessions of therapy, week after week. His son got perfect grades, was wonderful and polite and popular, took such good care of the girls and never once showed an inclination towards violence, and still he was always in therapy. Because Soichiro insisted, because it frightened him just how flawless his son was, sometimes-

How sick was that? He was disturbed by the fact that there was nothing wrong with his son. And maybe that was it. There was nothing wrong with Raito, but he was still sent to therapy, continually told to speak his mind, tell people how he felt… always told there was something wrong with him, when maybe there was nothing wrong at all.

And maybe that had made something wrong with him.

Maybe what was meant to help had actually ended up hurting.

And Soichiro was going to kill himself wondering about all these god damn maybes so maybe he should just stop…

Because he had to find his son. And he couldn’t find his son if he couldn’t stop thinking about his son. Though it was looking less and less likely that he was going to find his son because he didn’t have time to try and find his son-

Because of the mysterious murders committed on live television, the deaths of over twenty anchors, hosts, and reporters. All heart attacks. All natural causes. That was what he should have been working on, while he was sitting here thinking about Raito, and the job, and the therapy, and the kidnapping, and the god damn butterfly-

Stop.

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“So, who all are you writing down anyway? Friends, family, the little old lady with all the cats that lives down the block?”

Takada glanced back at the Shinigami, far from amused. The creature really did have the worst sense of humor, and it’s laugh was like fingernails being scraped down a polished blackboard. In other words, not a pleasant sound to be exposed to.

Still, she would have to humor it, as long as she wanted to use it’s notebook. Oh, excuse her, not IT, HIS name was Deridovely, thank you very much, as she was reminded on a constant basis. She didn’t understand how anyone could give a rather pretty and elegant name to the conglomeration of skin and ugly standing behind her, being as irritating as possible.

She couldn’t really decide which was more annoying. Deridovely’s laugh, or the crunch of the celery sticks it insisted upon eating. She had been under the impression Gods didn’t need to eat to survive, but then again, she had been wrong before… rarely, but it had happened.

“Uh…” Deridovely was above her now, leaning over the Deathnote and looking at all the names she had written down. “If you don’t mind me asking… why are all the names you’ve written down so far guys? I don’t see a girl name among them…”

“Because men are stuck up pigs who have ruined this world and its future.” Takada answered easily, having thought the same thing enough times to know the phrase by heart. “That, and they make up most of the violent crime offenders in today’s society, including rape, torture, murder… you take your pick.”

“So… what does that have to do with anything?”

Takada rolled her eyes. It was typical that she was stuck with the ugliest, most irritating, and STUPID Shinigami she could imagine. Really, it was just her luck. “I’m not killing them just because they’re men you know.”

“You’re not?”

Heaven give her patience… “No, I’m killing them because they are perpetrators of violent crimes and deserve to die for their actions. That’s why I’m killing them.”

“But why?”

She blinked, taken aback. “Isn’t it obvious? The world is an ugly place, and thanks to people like this-” she gestured to the notebook in front of her, “-it only continues to get uglier and uglier. And personally, I cannot abide ugly things.”

“So, you’re… cleaning the world up, so to speak?”

“So to speak.” Takada allowed herself a small smile at the Shinigami, her eyes wide and full of idealism and hope. “After the scum has been removed, the world will be clean and free to flourish. A world composed only of good people, can you imagine? It will be… a paradise.” She sighed, her eyes slipping closed at the thought, bright dreams and delusions playing through her head.

“And if I happen to rule over the new world, as the one who created it… who’s to say that isn’t the way it should be in the first place?”

She did her best to ignore the eerie note in the Shinigami’s laugh, the one that seemed to make promises, promises she didn’t want to see kept.

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L was not amused. No, not amused at all, in the least, the slightest bit, even a tiny little smidgeon on a smidgeon of humor was present in him at the time.

Because there were no damn clues. No gives. No proof. No anything. Hell, other than the fact that so many death’s on live television couldn’t be just a coincidence, he couldn’t even prove that what was going on was MURDER.

It was all rather frustrating. And daunting. Yes, it was daunting as well. Because this was one hell of a case, one L really wanted to solve, and so far…

He had zero concrete evidence to go upon. It didn’t even make sense! Why would somebody suddenly come out and kill so many people on live television? Where was the motive? Hell, if it were a power play, L would understand, but so far no person, no organization, no nobody had come forward and taken credit for the murders.

Which led L to believe it had been a spontaneous action. But how the hell could it be? Who could suddenly decide one day to kill all those people - for no good reason - and just be able to do it? Just like that. A mass epidemic of heart attacks. Too many to be coincidence, yet all of them natural, according to the autopsies. Autopsies done by L’s own people, so he knew no one had been bribed or corrupt in the process. It wasn’t just impossible, it was infuriating.

And now L was stuck in the monotonous task of reviewing possible suspects from rival TV stations. All because he had no other lead to work on, other than the fact that the anchors killed had all been a part of the news genre and been vying for ratings with one another.

…Though, once he looked at the information, there was one station that looked suspicious. Sakura TV, a program right in the middle of the pack of other stations… And the one with the highest rating that hadn’t had anyone killed. It was suspicious, nearly incriminating, since the other stations to suffer the attacks had been right around Sakura in ratings… and none had escaped without a death other than Sakura and local programs with ratings that were hardly competitive.

It was something to look into. Hell, it was all he had to look into.

He reached over, pressing the intercom button and speaking in his usual, unaffected tone.

“Watari?”

“Yes?”

“Get me the president of Sakura TV… Demegawa, I believe it is, on line one.”

“Very good sir.”

L brought his thumb to his mouth, staring at the screen before him as if fascinated, though it was doubtful whether he was seeing the screen at all. Rather, he was calculating how likely it was that Sakura TV had something to do with the mysterious string of media murders… at the moment, he was at 79 percent…

“Sir?”

He snapped out of his musings. “Yes Watari?”

“Demegawa is currently unavailable.”

“Unavailable?” His brow furrowed. No one was ever to busy to talk with L when he demanded it. It just didn’t happen.

He was THE L, after all.

“Dead, sir.”

“What?!” L’s mind flew in circles around the notion… dead? “Was it a heart attack?” But why would Demegawa be killed? When all the other victims had been the actual faces on the television screen, not the business men behind them?

“No sir.”

“Then when? How?”

“The same night as the heart attacks. He didn’t die of cardiac arrest though. The autopsy and evidence at the scene shows that he was going down the company stairs, when he tripped and fell. His neck was broken on the way down. They found his body the next morning.”

“Yes…” L said slowly. “Thank you, Watari.” He cut the connection, he thumb moving back to his mouth and his eyes slit in thought. While it was possible that Demegawa’s could have been a natural death, just a middle aged man taking a hard tumble and having rotten luck…

L wasn’t going to bet on it. It was too odd that it should happen the same night as the media homicides, too inconsistent that it should happen in the one suspicious company he had found, and that it should be the president, not the anchor that was killed…

It stuck out like a sore thumb. There was something wrong with the equation, and it was all pointing to something at Sakura TV. The big question was why Demegawa? Why was he the one killed? L was willing to bet just about anything that it was because he knew something. Something the perpetrator hadn’t wanted anyone else to know. Something incriminating, something that could lead to their arrest…

The killing method, perhaps?

L startled slightly as the intercom began beeping next to him in an urgent manner. Hitting the button, he was alarmed at Watari’s slightly shocked and hurried tone.

“L, I have just been informed that in the last hour or so, internationally, thirty three prisoners convicted of violent crimes have all dropped dead, each in their cells, under watch, and none with any contact outside their cell whatsoever. At first their deaths were discounted as due to natural causes, but the theory was quickly thrown away due to the fact that they all died of-”

“Heart attacks.” L finished for him, eyes wide and body still.

Well.

That complicated things a bit.

_________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Misa had been staring at the TV screen, that intent, almost wild look on her face for exactly forty minutes and eleven seconds.

Rem would know. She had counted.

Not that she blamed the girl for her shock or fear, because it was a bit of a surprise to Rem herself. Just a few nights ago new reporters and hosts had begun dropping dead like flies on live television, and now it seemed as though criminals were following the same trend.

And her, other Shinigami, their Deathnote holders, and Misa were likely the only one’s who knew why. Which was why the girl was practically in a state of panic.

“I… I don’t like this Rem.” Her eyes were wide, and so, so innocent as she watched the flashing images on the screen. Personally, Rem couldn’t stand watching the television. She wasn’t sure if other Shinigami had the same problem, but her eyesight was strong enough that she could see the individual frames flash, no matter how fast the picture was broadcast. It made the images seem disjointed and broken by flashes of bright light, which only managed to give the Shinigami one hell of a headache.

But her thoughts shouldn’t be wandering right now. Misa was frightened, and for whatever reason, that… troubled Rem. Troubled her enough that she wanted to stop Misa from being frightened, fix whatever was wrong in the world that was causing that look upon her young, mortal face.

And the fact that she felt like that… was also troubling.

It was all so confusing. But she had a feeling it always was, with humans.

“What don’t you like, Misa?”

The girl bit her lip. “Well, I can’t really say… that I don’t like the fact that they’re using the Deathnote, because I did that as well.” There was a flash of guilt in her bright eyes, but only for a moment. “But I only used it once, and it was on the man that murdered my parents. I guess you could say that, er, I don’t like the way they’re using the Deathnotes. And I’m thinking I probably won’t like the why, either.”

“I can understand that viewpoint with the deaths of the men on the news, but what about the ones of the criminals now?” Rem asked, tilting her head to the side. “Isn’t it the same as what you did, in killing the man who murdered your parents? Punishment?”

“No! It’s not the same at all Rem!” Misa’s eyes were passionate as her voice was raised, almost bristling with anger. “That was personal! The way this person is killing, so many people, all so… so…” She seemed at a loss for words, her cheeks turning pink. “It’s not the same! It’s like this person thinks they’re God or something! That they have a right to judge everyone!”

That… made a sort of sense, she supposed. It probably made more sense to humans. She was a Shinigami after all… she didn’t judge in her kills, she just killed to survive. It didn’t matter who it was, or when. But, it would be different for a human to kill a human, rather than a Shinigami. Human’s weren’t doing it to survive, for one.

They were just doing it because they could.

And maybe that made all the difference.

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Ryuk was coming along nicely, Raito decided. He had mastered the weave juggle, and now Raito was working on teaching him the cascade. It had only taken a few days as well. Ryuk attributed it to Shinigami superiority to humans.

Raito gave credit to the Shinigami having proper incentive. Namely, if he did well enough, Raito would steal him apples. And if he did poorly enough, well…

It hadn’t come to that point yet, but Raito promised Ryuk that he would regret it if it did.

Ryuk, wisely, believed him.

And now, today was there first experiment. Last night, Raito had gone to the park, found the public fountain, and done his best to wash up, despite the fact that the water had been freezing. It had been unpleasant, but now he looked, if not completely presentable, at least inoffensive to most tastes.

As he would need to be. Currently in the public park, he was looking for the best spot, one where he could attract plenty of people (hopefully rich ones), and where he would be visible to a large crowd. Finally choosing a small area, one not far from the very fountain he had bathed in only hours before, he took out the three oranges he had managed to pilfer for his little scheme.

And he began to juggle. Just a regular weave, nothing special. He had a hat he had fond a few nights before set out in front of him, and was hoping that it would be full of money by the end of the day. In only a few minutes there were a few children and there parents gathered around, watching him, but they were quickly loosing interest.

It was time to begin the real act.

Throwing the balls up high in the air, he took a step back, letting his arms fall to his sides. To anyone else, it would seem as though the fruit was going to fall to the ground, be squished on the cobblestones, and the show would be over. Only Raito saw Ryuk move into place under the oranges, eyes narrowed in concentration. One by one the oranges fell down.

And one by one they were thrown back up, by a creature invisible to all but Raito. He reveled in the gasps of the children and their parents as they watched the oranges being juggled in empty air, smiling as though he knew what was going on, that it was all part of the act and going by plan. Which it was, but they had no idea how.

It wasn’t long before he had an entire crowd gathered around. And Raito couldn’t help but feel a bit amused as Ryuk began to be pulled into the whole performance gig. He began showing off, throwing the balls higher, stretching out his wings and flying around with them every which way, delighting the grownups and children alike.

The hat was filled within an hour.

Needless to say, Ryuk got his apples.

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A/N: Holy crap everyone, sorry this update took so long, you wouldn't believe all the shit that's gone down. First, my computer cord broke, and the only replacements I could find in town were, I dunno EIGHTY DOLLARS. That's what I get for living in Wyoming, aka, the middle of boofoo fucking nowhere. So, as my computer's battery ran out and I found myself unable to do anything, I had my dad order one online for twenty bucks. Only, my dad is a retard and didn't check to see where exactly he was ordering it from.

Namely, Hong Kong.

I really hate my dad sometimes.

So it took nearly a MONTH to get here, and I was ever so elated, when disaster struck. I now have a lovely little scar where my appendix used to be. Yay me. XP

Anyway, to top it all off, I went on vacation for a week and had to leave my laptop behind, These last few days I've worked double shifts, and now my beta's computer is on the fritz, so this chapter hasn't been edited.

I'm tired and life sucks.

So yeah, try not to hate me too much, I really didn't mean for this to happen. I hope you enjoy this chapter, and believe me, there will be a TON of updating the next few weeks in an attempt to make up for the long drought.

As always, reviews make me very happy, and would really be appreciated, since right now I am a very sad panda.

And just to tell you, my oneshot Blossoming White is done, and will be posted very soon.

Seizure.