Shades of Mystification

Chapter Six


Raito didn’t think he’d ever been quite so nervous about an opening. Even on his first night, when his father had announced his taking over the gallery to a small crowd of political elite, he hadn’t felt this unsure, this apprehensive. But back then the people coming weren’t going to see him naked either.

‘It’s not me…it’s not actually me…’ He had reminded himself constantly, as he did a quick walk of the gallery the night before, picking up last minute details and trying not to cancel out of sheer panic.

He’d requested plaques for each of the paintings to be made – stating that they were not painted from life, and were completely fictitious situations. He felt that sufficiently covered any undue speculation about his relationship with L that the crowd may have, as well as any damage to his family name. Although, because L was just so well-loved by the populace, he felt it might have even given the gallery a boost if he’d left the plaques off but his own sense of embarrassment kept them up there.

Despite Raito’s misgivings, the showing went without a hitch. That morning, the gallery owner had been sorely tempted not to show up and when he’d arrived, some time halfway through, the mixed looks he’d gotten were almost enough to drive him back out the door. But he was a Yagami, and had his pride behind him. So with head held high, he moved amongst the guests, being his normal appealing self and commenting on the paintings as per usual.

Misa had been put on duty at the gallery door to stop any undue attention to her boss, something she was brilliant at. A reporter had shown up, vying for an angle on how the ‘aloof artist and snobby gallery owner’ were hiding some big ‘conspiracy’ from the world. But Misa had just giggled and coquettishly asked how his camera worked, leaning forward in her little top, quickly disabling the man’s train of thought. It had made Raito cringe inside but caused him to be deliriously happy at the same time. Thank God some people went for that. The thought had spawned more musings on what it was exactly that he went for, but he quickly put those aside, knowing he had enough to think about this evening without questioning his own sexuality. Again.

They hadn’t known what to decorate in, it’s not like they could put up more pictures of him and Raito had been uncomfortable with anything more exciting. In the end, they had opted for some simple red and white tones, clean lines and subtle lighting. It wasn’t flashy or expensive but it worked. L had seemed to use a lot of red in Raito’s hair for some reason, and it tied in well with the décor.

Stopping beside the nude, displayed in all its glory, he flushed slightly red at all the attention it was getting, not to mention the offers that were flooding in for it. Looking down at the lists of bids he felt strange. These people were spending their hard earned money on a naked painting of him. His lips twisted slightly when he read Misa’s name a few times early on the list, but she’d quickly been outbid.

‘Thank God.’ He thought. He didn’t want to imagine what would have happened to the painting in her sweaty little hands. The thought was just too disturbing to contemplate.

At the moment, the bids had narrowed down to three people. Only two of whom were there, the third communicating by phone through a blonde American that looked very familiar to Raito. He couldn’t place where he’d seen the man before though. Perhaps he was the son of a rich client or a politician.

The other two consisted of an overdressed lady, somewhere in her mid-fifties that had been giving him coy looks all night and a young, black-suited man with glasses, who looked to be buying it just for arts sake. He wandered a little closer to the man with the phone, trying to gain some information about the person on the end of it. It always helped to know who you were dealing with. He heard a name and his eyebrows lifted slightly with surprise.

‘Ah, the ever elusive Mr. Ryuuzaki.’ The man never came to the gallery showings but always seemed to pick the best and most profound painting from L’s lots without having seen it. That’s why the American was familiar, as he usually dealt with Mastuda when he came to select paintings for the mysterious buyer. Raito was still slightly bitter that he’d let the one of the man leaning on the tree out of his hands last time, but wasn’t sad at all to be seeing the back of…well…himself.

The American approached Raito’s dark-haired employee, who was set up in an out of the way corner, and wrote down his bid. Matsuda then flicked a little switch which displayed the new bid on the painting, and another person approached to outbid him.

Finally the lady gave up and the bespectacled young man glared venomously at the man on the phone, trying to intimidate him. The bids went up and up, most people no longer maintaining the pretence of looking at the paintings, instead watching the two men.

The bid went up above two million and the black suited man looked sour and upset. Raito was surprised at the reverent look he shot the painting, then at Raito himself. A yearning glance at the real-life subject of the artwork seemed to stiffen his backbone and he stepped forward to make another bid.

Raito entertained the fact that the man may just want the painting for the same reasons Misa had. He wasn’t unaware of his looks but the young man seemed to be enamored with him. He had seen a name repeated several times on the list of buyers for tonight’s paintings, perhaps this was him. He glanced down at the sheet Matsuda was writing on as he passed. Yes, the same name. Mikami Teru.

Quick urgent whispering commenced on the phone and the bid was quickly jolted up to three point five million, just to stave off any other last minute attempts.

Raito was surprised at the jump in offer. ‘Mr Ryuuzaki must have really wanted the painting!’ Mikami suddenly cursed under his breath and shot Raito such a unveiled look of covetousness that he actually stopped walking by and just stared back. The dark-haired man looked like he was about to cry and, turning quickly, he threw his details at Matsuda and stormed out, the glass doors of the gallery swinging shut behind him with a bang.

In the scandalized whispering that followed, Matsuda closed the bidding, writing down the name of the piece and giving it to the man representing Mr. Ryuuzaki. They stood off in the corner to arrange delivery and Raito let out a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding, forgetting about Mikami for the moment. That sale of that one painting would net him an entire month worth of income. Not for the first time, he was immensely glad that L had taken up with Kira Gallery and not one of his competitors. As strange and intriguing as the man was, Raito wouldn’t give him up for the world.

A low voice came from behind him, breaking him from thoughts of his good fortune.

“A…good sale. Pity that the art itself was so cheap and vulgar. I thought That Artist had better taste in models.”

Raito turned and schooled his face into polite distain. Nate stood there, absently twirling a lock of his bleached pale hair with a ridiculously pallid finger. Raito had always refused to call the man by his self-imposed name ‘Near’. He found it quite ludicrous that when the man had quit being an artist and opened a gallery, he’d tried to keep his pseudonym.

He held out his hand and politely shook it, ignoring the dig about himself, knowing it would get to the man more if he did.

“Nate. Yes, a very good sale. L’s work always brings out the best in people don’t you think?” He didn’t miss the way that the white-haired man’s lips twisted slightly at the mention of L’s name.

He’d been trying for years to obtain the artist himself, in such an exclusive way as Raito held. The constant rebuffs hadn’t slowed his eagerness, nor the underhanded tactics he used on the other owners who used to sell L’s work. Scaring them off selling it till Raito was the only one left who still would. The brunette was one who had never been intimidated, even though it was he who was ‘visited’ most often by Nate’s right-hand men, Mello and Matt.

After the third time he’d arrived in the morning to find the front windows smashed in and any art inside stolen, burnt or desecrated, he’d sent his own brand of warning back.

Needless to say, Nate had maintained an acceptable distance since, and Mello grew his blond hair long to hide the scar on his face.

Nate had dropped his hand, shooting him a narrowed-eyed look and moved away stiffly, making room for another patron, someone whom he’d always liked. The huge man loomed over the other customers and Raito had to muffle a smile at the band of huge black feathers the man had round his neck. Such a strange and refreshing sense of style. He reached out a hand, finding it dwarfed in the other man’s grip as per usual.

“Ah, Ryuuk! Did you enjoy the showing? Do bring your lovely wife, Rem next time, won’t you.”

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

Other characters are slowly making an appearance – did anyone pick up on who the American on the phone may have been?

A massive thank you to all reviewers thus far! And cookies for all those who went to watch my AMV and commented – I’m glad you all enjoyed it so much – took me about three days to make!

Hope you all enjoyed this chapter! Please let me know what you think.

Also, a sidenote, it’s been brought to my attention that a few people think my Raito is horrendously OOC, and I mean, well he is slightly…but the Raito that I’m trying to portray is only seen in the series for maybe a combined time of an episode. I’m writing him as he was before the Deathnote, and in that short interlude when he didn’t have ownership. There is no need for him to be calculating, cold and trying to outwit people. Forgive me for my little rant – but just wanted to make it clear, although I did appreciate the opinion :)

Also, did people want reviewer replies? They're a fair bit of work - but if people actually enjoy having them then I'll attempt to make the effort :) Thanks again!