Note Two:

Panic at the ICPO

Two hours later, Matsuda stood before the door to the Chief's office, staring at the bronze nameplate with significant trepidation. Part of him still suspected that this was some sort of joke, and that when he opened the door, Tamaki and Hattori would be inside laughing at him. However, he couldn't imagine why those two would need to involve the Chief in a plan to punk him, so he had to assume this was for real. Still, it didn't seem possible that the Chief would ask someone like him to the ICPO meeting, especially since he'd been caught red-handed loafing. He gulped. Is he going to fire me? God, please don't let him fire me...

After a few full minutes of standing in front of the door sweating silently, Matsuda finally plucked up his courage and grasped the doorknob. The door swung open smoothly on well-oiled hinges, revealing an impressive, immaculate office. Chief Yagami sat behind the desk, papers stacked in neat piles all around him. When Matsuda entered, he looked up, adjusting his glasses. "You're five minutes late, Mr. Matsuda."

"S-Sorry," Matsuda stammered, wringing his hands. He would have been on time if he hadn't been so nervous...

Yagami made a sound that sounded like a soft grunt. "Well, make sure to be punctual next time." He picked up a manilla file from his desk and held it out to Matsuda. "Here is your case information. You can take a few minutes to look over it now... or you can go into the meeting blind. It's up to you."

Matsuda took the file and flipped it open. "I think I'd like to look over it now, thanks." He began to skim the file, reading over the long list of victims. A few names jumped out at him, and he glanced up at the Chief. "Most of these victims are criminals..."

"That's correct." Yagami folded his hands on the surface of his desk. "Whoever is committing these murders seems to be exclusively targeting criminals all over the world."

"Does he think he's some sort of vigilante...?" Matsuda muttered to himself, flipping through the pages of the file until he came to the details of the victims' deaths. He started to read it, blinked a few times, then looked up at the Chief, confusion evident in his eyes. "Uh, sir..."

"Is there a problem?"

"W-Well..." Matsuda fidgeted. "All these men died of heart attacks."

Yagami looked unfazed. "Yes, that's right."

Matsuda gulped. He didn't want to correct the Chief, but... "Didn't you say these were murders?"

The Chief's eyes narrowed slightly. "Over fifty criminals have died in five days; this cannot be coincidence."

"Yeah, but..." Matsuda's gaze flitted briefly about the room. "How could anyone murder all these people? And by inducing heart attacks, no less? I mean, it's really difficult to make even one murder look like a natural heart attack. You'd need some sort of drug, but..." He flipped rapidly through the file. "...the autopsy reports don't show any evidence of traceable toxins."

"We don't know how he kills," Yagami stated bluntly. There was a hard look in his eyes. "But it is the position of the National Police Agency that the person or persons responsible for these deaths are committing murder. And that is the position you and I will take during today's meeting, if it comes to that."

Matsuda blinked. "If it comes to that?"

The Chief stood up from his chair, walked around his desk, and held up his own copy of the victims list. "The vast majority of deaths have occurred within the United States; they will most likely wish to spearhead any investigation. Therefore, I don't think there will be much for you and me to do today."

Ah. Matsuda smiled sadly. So that's why he picked me. I'm basically a chair-warmer. If he was honest with himself, though, he really didn't mind. Being told he wouldn't have to do anything was a lot better than being put on the spot in front of the G8... especially with a case like this. He just couldn't wrap his head around it; murders committed all over the world as if by magic? Logically, it didn't make sense.

"Matsuda!"

"H- Huh?!"

Yagami folded his arms. "Pay attention. Or, if you can't, at least make it look like you are."

Matsuda scratched the back of his head sheepishly. "Sorry, sir..."

The Chief sighed, massaging his temples, and suddenly he looked strangely tired. "The ICPO is one of the largest collections of overbearing, unreasonable people I have ever encountered in my life. There will be a lot of arguing, even more squabbling, and very little will actually get done." His eyes narrowed slightly. "Unless he decides to get involved..."

Matsuda blinked. "He? Who's 'he?'"

Yagami dismissed his question with a wave of his hand. "Don't worry about it." He glanced at his watch, then pulled a long coat off of the coat rack in the corner and slid his arms into the sleeves. "It's time." He turned to face Matsuda, and his expression softened into an almost fatherly smile. "Are you ready?"

Matsuda gave a crooked smile, somewhat confused by the Chief's change in tone. "I think so...?"

"Good." Yagami turned his back and pulled open the door, gesturing for Matsuda to exit the office. "Let's go."

Matsuda stepped through the door, glancing hesitantly over his shoulder at the Chief. He's looking intense again... I'm starting to get nervous. He steeled himself. "Yes, sir!"

Matsuda gulped. "...I don't think I can do this."

He stood within the frame of an open door; in front of him stretched a cliff-like expanse of tables and chairs, set on rows of steps reminiscent of a university lecture hall, extending downwards from his feet at a nearly vertical angle. At the bottom of this drop-off, there was a small stretch of floor, three individual desks, then a low stage that boasted a larger desk and a projector screen lit up with the ICPO crest. The entire room was eerily dark... save for the light from the projector, which cast long shadows across the desks and made the atmosphere generally creepy.

But what had stopped Matsuda in his tracks was the crowd of extremely important-looking people already filing into the rows, milling about and making small talk. Half of them were dignified men at least ten years older than him, wearing suits that were probably worth more than he was. The other half were their extremely capable-looking assistants, only somewhat younger men who shot him hostile glances as they passed.

In other words, there was a lot of clout in the room, and Matsuda felt extremely intimidated.

Yagami gave him a light push forward. "It's too late to be having doubts." He pointed towards a desk in the third row from the bottom on the left side. "That's where we sit. Just go down, take a seat, and focus on the case. It will calm your nerves." Suddenly, a loud ringing began to emanate from the Chief's coat pocket, and he pulled out his cell phone before smiling apologetically at Matsuda. "Sorry, I have to take this. You go on ahead and get settled."

Matsuda nodded numbly and started to shuffle down the stairs. They were annoyingly steep, and he had to struggle just to descend them without falling flat on his face and tumbling to the floor. By the time he finally got to the designated "Japan" table and sat in the seat behind the thin sign with his name on it, he was actually a little out of breath, and could feel stares on him from every direction. Trying desperately to remain calm, he sat down and opened his case file on the surface of the desk, flipping through it but not really processing anything. Now that he was actually here, alone, in this room, representing the NPA, in front of all these really important people, he wasn't nervous anymore.

He was scared sh*tless.

Fidgeting like a squirrel jacked up on caffeine, Matsuda impulsively turned to the person on his left and waved. "Hello..."

The man, a thin dark thirty-something whose name tag sported a Russian flag, simply scowled at him, grey eyes narrowed. "...Hi."

"What's up with these lights, huh?" Matsuda stammered, talking reflexively. "I mean, does it really need to be this dark in here? It's kinda creeping me out..."

The Russian simply stared at him, as if trying to decide if this young Japanese man was stupid or just a weirdo. After almost a full minute, he opened his mouth. "Наушники."

Matsuda blinked. "H- Huh?"

The man rolled his eyes. "Your headset," he said, motioning to the microphone wrapped around his own head.

"Oh." Matsuda glanced down at his desk, noticing the piece of equipment that rested along its edge for the first time. He picked it up and nestled it in his hair above his ears, blushing with embarrassment. "Thanks."

The man grunted and turned away from him, obviously signaling that he refused to be bothered any further. Matsuda sighed, leaning over his desk with his elbows on the surface and his chin in his hands. I really don't know what I'm doing… Chief, please come back soon.

One of the men seated at the three desks in the front of the room cleared his throat into his microphone, sending an earsplitting screech of feedback blasting through everyone's headsets. "I call this meeting of the International Criminal Police Organization to order. Are all representatives present?"

The man next to him responded with a curt "Yes," and the first man nodded and continued. "This meeting has been called in order to address what is quickly becoming an international issue: the deaths of criminals all over the world." He turned to the man on his right. "Mr. Harris will summarize the details."

Harris stood, holding a file in his hands. "There have been fifty-two deaths in the past week, and that's just those we know about. Every single one from cardiac arrest." He was a short man with a fat moustache, and he sounded like he had a wad of cotton stuffed in his mouth. "All of the victims are criminals either being pursued by the police, or already behind bars. We may assume that more wanted criminals, whose whereabouts are unknown, have died as well, in which case, the death toll would be well over one hundred…"

"But they're all violent criminals who deserve the death penalty several times over," someone from the right side of the room interjected. "Is it really a great concern?"

As soon as he finished speaking, the room exploded into heated debate. Matsuda could only stare blankly ahead, completely overwhelmed by the sudden barrage of voices blowing up his headset. It seemed to him that many of the representatives were arguing simply for argument's sake, and their rabid enraged shouting made him want to crawl into a hole. He gradually became aware that he was covering his ears with his palms, though of course the sound was coming in through his headset. I feel like I'm going to start bleeding from my ears... dear God, please make it stop...

Suddenly, he heard a faint shuffling amidst the hubbub, and turned to see Soichiro Yagami slide quietly into his seat and put on his headset. "Oh, Chief, they started the meeting without you," he murmured. Inwardly, he was deliriously screaming Thank God! and various other expressions of intense relief.

Yagami gave a slight nod. "I got an urgent call from headquarters."

Matsuda's face took on a pained expression. "...You didn't miss much."

During the few seconds it had taken him to talk to the Chief, the arguing among the representatives had intensified to ridiculous levels. It was now nearly impossible to understand a single word, and people were even shouting at each other in their native languages.

"I dare you to say that again - !"

"But our pride as police - "

"Din moster älskar torsk!"

"No, YOU'RE an idiot!"

"I want a milkshake!"

Matsuda was about to give up and take off his headset when the Russian man on his right suddenly threw his own microphone on the ground and leaned back in his chair with his arms folded. When he noticed his neighbor's confused stare, he huffed. "LeBeau said my father smelled of elderberries."

Matsuda would have responded with something about how out of control the situation was becoming, but he was forced to duck when a stray shoe thrown by someone near the front row sailed over his head and hit a representative from England in the face. He turned to the Chief, incredulous. "Is this normal?!"

Yagami sighed heavily. "Well, the shoe is new. This case must scare them."

"I think we have no choice." Harris' voice cut suddenly through the chaos; he must have used some sort of amplifier. "This is another one for L."

Instantly, the room fell completely and utterly silent. No one moved; it was almost as if someone had simply stopped time.

Matsuda turned slowly to the Chief, trying to avoid making any sudden moves. He felt like he might spook the delegates. "L?" he whispered, holding his hand over his microphone. "What's that?"

A low murmur began to gradually fill the room as the representatives broke free from the sudden spell of silence. Yagami folded his arms. "I forgot, this is your first time." His expression became serious. "Nobody knows L's real name or whereabouts, or even what he looks like. But he has solved countless unsolved cases so far." He stroked his moustache pensively. "You might say he's our trump card... our ace in the hole... something like that."

Our trump card...? Matsuda gulped. Just what sort of person is this L?!

"But they say L only gets involved in cases that interest him," one man pointed out.

"And anyway," another interjected, "we have no way of contacting him!"

"L is already involved."

Matsuda turned to face the stage and nearly jumped out of his chair. The stage itself had been completely unoccupied before, but now a tall man dressed in a long trenchcoat and a fedora that obscured his face stood stoically before the desk, one hand gripping a large briefcase. "L has been investigating this case for some days now," the man stated calmly, his voice filling the room even without a microphone.

"Watari," someone muttered, and Matsuda turned to the Chief. "There's another Japanese here?" he asked hesitantly. Maybe he was supposed to come here instead of me...

"He isn't with us," Yagami stated, as if he'd read the younger man's mind. "Watari is the only person who can contact L... but nobody really knows who he is, either."

Matsuda watched the mysterious man with undisguised awe. That guy is so cool… it's like he's right out of one of those old noir movies I used to watch when I was in high school. "This is so exciting…" he murmured.

The Chief glanced at him with a raised eyebrow. "Hm?"

"Uh, n- nothing…"

It's true. At that point, for probably the first time since I became a cop, I felt really excited about the case. L was like a phantom to me, ephemeral and dangerous but highly alluring. And while I realize now that "alluring" may not have been the best choice of words considering all the yaoi fiction out there, it's really the only way to describe it. I mean, who wouldn't be interested in some secret super-sleuth who went by only a letter and had cool people that looked like cop Batman deliver his messages for him?

"Silence, please," Watari commanded, placing an open laptop and a microphone on the surface of the desk. "You will now hear L speak."

Of course, I had no idea what sort of person L really was. And I definitely couldn't have suspected how much he would change my life.

...but not in a weird way, I swear. Just a… dramatic way.

The ICPO logo on the projector screen suddenly disappeared, and a black calligraphic 'L' took its place. Matsuda leaned forward expectantly; he would finally get to hear the voice of this mysterious detective.

The room was silent for a few moments, then an electronic voice filtered through the speakers.

"Good afternoon. This is L."

…

…

…

…

"...what the heck?!" Matsuda exclaimed, feeling somewhat let down. "He sounds like a chipmunk!"

"Who said that?" the voice questioned. It was hard to tell if it was trying to keep from sounding offended or simply nonplussed.

Matsuda hesitantly raised his hand, trembling slightly as all eyes turned to him. The voice of L was silent for a few moments, then asked, "What's your name?"

"M- Matsuda…" the detective stammered. Oh man, now I've done it. What's he gonna do to me? Is he gonna kick me out? Is he gonna make his ninja messenger kill me?!

The voice made a soft, computerized 'hm.' "Matsuda… you're an idiot."

"...Ehh?!"

Author's Note: And with that, a beautiful friendship full of mutual admiration was formed. *snerk*

Anyway, L has now officially entered the picture, and things are happening. EXCITEMENT! Oh, and just so you know, these chapters will be interspersed with random bits of Matsu-narration, like the ones from the previous chapter. These will be separated from the main text and italicized.

So, yeah. I'm gonna be adding in some stuff that isn't technically in these scenes that are actually from the manga/anime to keep it fresh, so it's not me being intentionally inaccurate or anything. Thanks for reading! :)

(Also, as a side note, I drew the cover image for this fic myself. I say that because I'm willing to trade cover images for one-shots, if anybody's interested. Just throwing that out there.)