The Misa/Ryuk dialogue was pulled directly from the manga (mostly), and the Light/Misa scene was sort of pulled from the manga (mostly not).

Chapter One

As Planned

With a rush of memories, it began again.

Kira.

It was exhilarating. A night of harsh-breathed resurrection, of crisp bites into forbidden fruit, of ripping away foolish blindfolds and donning silken, death-drenched masks.

I am Kira.

It was overpowering. A heart-stopping moment of returned memory, of reborn power, of Ryuzaki, let me see that – the space of only a few, shuddering breaths, yet the significance of an eternity.

I am Kira.

His blood sang, his heart thrummed, his soul laughed in uncontrolled elation. The forgotten smell of musk and death and crisp empty pages entwined around him like a well-known friend, filling his lungs with a thousand last gasps, his heart with a thousand last beats, his hand with a thousand new endings.

Hello, Kira. It greeted him with the familiarity of a lover's embrace, of pen caressing paper, and the sharp tang of his own spilled blood sealed the reformed bond. His fingers curled around a belladonna-black cover.

Kira. I am Kira. Everything went-

Exactly as planned.

With damp earth beneath her knees, night's veil above her head, and chilled, silent air in her lungs, she made her decision.

"Ryuk! Make the eye trade with me!"

Wide, soulless eyes turned on her, a razor's smile on death-colored lips.

"Do you understand what will happen?"

"What?"

"You've already made the trade once with Rem and cut your lifespan in half."

"I know that."

"So it's okay if I half your already halved lifespan?"

A penned promise clutched in her hand, lending her strength.

"Yes…I won't be able to face Light like this."

"Well, it's fine with me…"

If you do this, I will love you until death pulls us apart.

And Ryuk laughed and laughed as apple-red numbers unwound, the joke only he could see.

L was a dead man walking.

Within a matter of days, his body would be drained of life and cooling on the floor, a fallen testament to Kira's power. Just a few more days, and this drawn-out battle between two figureheads of self-declared justice would be over, and nothing would stand in Light's way.

"Yagami-kun, are you going to eat that?"

Unfortunately, until Misa returned with either L's name or the eyes, L was also a dead man talking – and, when he wasn't relentlessly shooting question after pointless question at the evasive Shinigami or crouched on the sofa with a creased brow, trying to puzzle his way through the convoluted muddle of the Death Note and its rules, he was a dead man directing the rest of his absentminded attention on the task of getting on Light's nerves.

Under different circumstances, Light may have risen to the bait. He might have been annoyed – might have snapped and said of course he didn't want it, L had known he didn't want it when he had so considerately offered it to Light five minutes ago and Light had clearly said a polite, 'I don't want any ice cream, thank you,' so there shouldn't have been any confusion on the subject – but that didn't matter now. It was easy to ignore L's provoking attempt at faux-courtesy when the man was going to be dead in a few days anyway and was only trying to irritate Light out of his own helpless frustration over the fact that it seemed, once again, Light had been proven innocent.

So instead of annoying, the entire situation was just proving immensely satisfying.

Even though there wasn't much to do yet, not in the search for Kira and not as Kira himself, and even though they were currently locked in a sort of uncertain limbo that, were Light in a less triumphant mood, would have been driving him up the wall, Light was perfectly content to wait and direct the task force in fruitless circles and watch L flounder in confusion until the hour came when the carefully laid trap snapped shut around his throat.

"No, Ryuzaki, I'm not planning on eating that. Would you like it?"

L, perched on his sofa like a bird of prey about to spring into flight, cocked his head curiously at Light and rolled a dark eye over the cone waiting on the coffee table before him, the offensively bright pink ice cream already beginning to melt a little.

"I wonder if Kira likes ice cream."

And Light just smiled. "I have no idea. I, however, do not, so feel free to eat that."

Normally, L would have probably made some smartass comment about how Light's dislike of dessert increased the likelihood of him being a mass murderer, along with some bullshit which made him seem he actually knew what he was talking about and wasn't just pulling theories out of his ass, but now he just plucked the cone up and began licking at it distractedly, frowning at the wall and shooting occasional glances at Rem hovering in the corner, a silent spectator and unearthly, unavoidable reminder of the fate quickly rushing at them all.

L was confused – Light knew this. It was a delicious idea, one worthy of sinking his teeth into and savoring.

Light knew that inside L's mind, instinct was bidding a desperate war against facts, the two unable to coexist. The detective's intuition was insisting to him that Light was Kira, but the thirteen-day rule declared Light innocent, and until one or the other was verified without a doubt, L wouldn't be able to rest.

And the particularly delicious part was that L's need to prove one wrong would be what dragged him to his death. He would chase after that thirteen-day rule, chase down evidence of Light's guilt, but he would never really get the proof he was literally dying for.

At least, not until it was too late. Not until he was already sucking in his final, shuddering breath, death's icy claw clutched around his heart as he stared up into Kira's smirk, would he at last know the truth.

And then it would be over.

The Kira percentages, the constant, wide-eyed watching, the pointless conversations where they both knew the truth but danced around a direct confrontation anyway – it would all finally be at an end.

L would be dead.

Ryuzaki would be dead.

Light never called him L aloud anymore, just like L never called him Light-kun – always Yagami-kun, or even Yagami-san at times. It was just another silent sign between them, an unacknowledged indication of Kira's return. It was just another game of silly pretend for the sake of his father and the task force and their own twisted, childish enjoyment – a masquerade of lies and smiles and deadly insincerity.

Looking back now, Light realized just how much of what went on between him and L had been a game. L had been his crooked playmate, cavorting with him on death's ghastly playground in games of deceit and feints and struggle for domination and catch me if you're able. Dangerous, lethal games, perhaps, but games nonetheless, spun out tirelessly between Kira and L.

The ice cream, too, had been a game – small but undeniable, an annoying buzzing fly of a game that Light normally would snap at but now he just brushed aside. It was just a simple, half-hearted attempt on L's part to irritate Light by offering him something L knew he didn't like, and while Light was too close to victory at the point to care, he was mildly surprised L would risk his dessert just for an opportunity to get on his nerves.

He sneaked a sidelong glance over his shoulder at the detective, settled on his haunches and currently ignoring the ice cream held in his precarious grasp in favor of beginning his relentless interrogation of Rem once again, and Light remembered the six-foot chain that had, until recently, bound the two of them perpetually together, eradicating any hope for privacy for either of them.

Alright, maybe he wasn't surprised. L had plenty of ice cream; he would risk one cone's worth to annoy Light, particularly if he thought he'd get it back at the end anyway. L always had been the type to go to extremes to get what he wanted.

It didn't matter, though.

This was the final stretch of the game, when nothing mattered because all the pieces were already set in their last move, the end already determined. Months of plans and wasted days with absent memories and cuffed wrists were coming together, and L was caught in the death trap's center. This was all drawing to a heart-freezing, breath-stilling close.

A flicker of blond hair on the screen at the front of the room caught Light's eyes, and elation surged through his veins.

Misa was here.

L's death was another step closer.

"It's been a while, Ryuk."

His old haunter answered him only with a jagged-toothed grin and an unsuppressed burst of dark chuckles, laughing, inhuman eyes meeting his own.

Misa latched around his waist as tightly as a sailor's knot and whispered in a breathy whine against his ear, "He's been like that all day, Light. It's really creepy. Just staring and laughing! Is there something on Misa-Misa's face?"

Light tucked an arm around her affronted frame pressed against him and rubbed her back with a soothing, placating hand.

"He's always like that," he answered, giving Ryuk a cold-eyed warning glance over her shoulder, disguising it as a casual scan of the spacious lobby for the sake of the cameras and L's interested gaze, which he knew was staring unblinkingly through the lens. "It's just how he is."

It hadn't taken Light long to become accustomed to the tangle of twisted limbs that followed his shoulder around and the sinister chuckling that danced frequently in his ear, but he supposed to someone like Misa it would be a bit unnerving, even with her earlier exposure to Rem.

"Do you have the Note safe?"

Misa nodded eagerly against his shoulder.

"It's right here, under my shirt."

As though it had solidified at the mention of its hidden location, Light was instantly aware of the supple stiffness pushed against his front, muffled by clothing.

At least she'd had the sense to wear a jacket to conceal the deformity, he thought to himself with exasperation. Had she even considered the danger of coming here with that on her person and what would happen if L decided to search her? Stupid girl.

There was very little chance of that though, so there was no need to reprimand her this time, he supposed.

Besides – they had a Death Note in their control again. Or rather, Misa had a Death Note in her control again, and Light had Misa in his control. Everything was working out as planned.

"Good." He spoke the word softly in her ear, watching as a tiny tremor chased itself down the ridges of her spine. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed Ryuk laughing again. "Keep it for now. I need you to carry on killing criminals for a little while in my place, okay? Can you do that for me?"

There was another eager nod into his collar.

"Of course I can! But Light," her voice was desperate and strained now as she pulled her face away to stare pleadingly up at him, "I've ruined everything! I can't, I can't remember that name you told Misa-Misa to remember!" Tears were beginning to sneak into the darkened rims of her eyes, and Light watched them impassively as they gathered, demented laughter an unfitting background to the scene. "But don't worry – I made the trade with Ryuk, and-"

Light stopped her with a kiss, the best use he'd found for the act.

"Misa!" he whispered hurriedly, allowing a serpent's concern to color his voice. "You traded for the eyes again? Idiot – your life is more important to me than the eyes. You shouldn't have wasted it like that."

Misa smiled up at him with a tenderness only pure love could produce, blinking mascara-tainted tears away.

"It's okay, Light. It was for you." There was no hesitation in her answer, and as she nuzzled into his shoulder again, her hands slipping up to rest on his chest and a content sigh upon her lips, he smiled in cold satisfaction. Those Shinigami eyes would be very useful, once L's prying eyes were dead and empty - and Misa would be blissfully under Light's thumb, willing to utilize them however he wanted.

Flowery hair product filled his awareness as he snaked his arms closer around her, itching his nose, but even that annoyance couldn't shake his pleased mood.

"I love you, Misa," he said, the lie easy and consciousless on his tongue. He felt delighted stiffening overtake her body, but he tightened his hold on her so she couldn't spring up and maul him as she clearly wanted. "Just listen for a minute. I need you to take the Death Note for a while and keep it safe for me, okay? I'm not in a position that I can judge criminals right now. Then, I need you to- Ryuk. What the fuck are you doing."

Misa twitched in his unyielding arms, undoubtedly startled at the sudden switch and the harsh ice in his voice, but Light didn't care – because Ryuk was doing something he usually only concerned himself with at night, when Light was asleep and not available for entertainment, and the sight of it chilled Light's blood in his veins.

The Shinigami had his notebook propped open in one hand, his otherworldly pen dancing across the surface, too far away to be stopped, especially under the gaze of the cameras. Ryuk was writing a name.

"What's going on?" Misa whispered from the safety of Light's arms, but her hushed urgency was brushed aside, Light's attention and cold fury locked on the hovering specter.

Shark teeth gleamed in the electric light as Ryuk grinned up at him, his pen now still as death.

"Don't worry, it's not your name Light – not yet, hyuk. But she's gonna die in 'bout twenty minutes anyway. Don'cha think this is a better time, right after you've finally told her you love her? It's full of all that irony and tragedy you humans are so nuts about."

Misa had frozen in his embrace, her body turning cold and still like stone.

"Light," she whispered, her voice quieter than Light had ever heard it. "Is he…talking about…me?"

Light didn't answer her, didn't move his arms from their encircling hold.

"Ryuk." His voice, in contrast to her shaken hush, was low and silky and laced with poison. "Explain."

Ryuk tossed out some more of that shoulder-shaking laughter, laughter of which Light was just realizing the significance, and floated a lazy half-circle around them to grin at Light from over Misa's other shoulder.

"Don't you get it, Light? She was on borrowed time anyway – not that much left when she went and halved it twice. Her ticker was just about to run out anyway. Now she can die in your arms! It's kinda like, destiny, wouldn't ya say?"

Destiny.

Even caught in rage and shock, Light wanted to laugh and laugh at the twisted irony. Probably too much time spent with that damn Shinigami.

He was vaguely aware of Misa's body trembling between his arms.

"Light?" Her throat sounded tight, like there was no room for her voice to slip through, but there was a flood of foolish hope as she spoke his name, the way one would name a savior. "Am I…going to die?"

Keep her calm; the cameras are watching.

"Don't worry," he breathed into her hair, one hand coming up to stroke it gently. "Everything's all right – he was talking about someone else. You'll be fine. I love you, remember? I wouldn't let you die."

He needed to distract her before her mind overrode her heart and realized the obvious holes in that lie, so he crooked a curled finger beneath her chin, lifted her head until her frightened gaze met his reassuring eyes, and kissed her.

He kissed her softly, he kissed her consumingly, and he kissed her like he was trying to drink her soul out of her. He kissed her until her little hands curled tightly around his jacket in sudden pain and her voice cried out in a quiet tremor, the taste of a heart attack on her tongue.

"L-light!"

Wide, alarmed blue eyes caught his own, now hard and unapologetic.

"Goodbye, Misa." Then he pressed his lips one last time to hers and swallowed her final, gasping breath.

And his arms were full of dead weight.

There went his Shinigami eyes.

Several floors above, a light died inside a shock-numbed Shinigami.

Misa was dead.

She hadn't been able to stop it.

She had wanted to, had been ready with pen clutched in her claws, but other Shinigami couldn't be killed by the Death Note's power. In the end, she had been useless.

Rem had known this would happen, Misa's death; she had seen the short remaining lifespan when she had first met her, before the bright girl had ever taken a careless axe of an eye trade to it. This was in part why Rem had been so desperate to make her remaining life as happy as she deserved.

But she hadn't expected her to make the trade the again. She hadn't expected the cruel death to come upon them so suddenly, tearing Misa from her sheltering protection.

When Rem had seen the almost empty red numbers float onto the screen, following Misa around like a silent prophecy of doom, she had been filled with a deadened shock as she realized the girl must have once again forfeited half her life for the sake of misbegotten devotion. Rem had instantly pulled out her own notebook then – unconcerned for any watching human eyes – prepared to stop the death if it came by another's hands, as Gelus had done not long ago. If fate decided to serve its deadly card by means of another human again, she would gladly take Misa's fate for her own.

With that in mind, she had watched Yagami Light, Kira, especially closely – the prime suspect for being a tool in fate's game as he was the only human near at the time. Too bad she never thought it would come from her own capricious kind.

By the time she noticed Ryuk's actions, it had been too late. Too late to stop it, too late to write Misa's name in her own Death Note simultaneously and invoke the 0.06 second rule which would cancel the death, too late to do anything but stare in frozen horror as Misa collapsed in Yagami Light's arms, like a puppet whose strings had been sliced. Misa was dead.

Rem's deadened ears barely heard the surprised shouts of the humans in the room with her as they watched the sudden tragedy unfold, all privy to witness that boy's fautless acting – his shocked face and quickly growing franticness as he clutched her slackened frame, sinking unsteadily to the ground with her and beginning to shake her shoulders as her head lolled lifelessly on her neck, as though shaking alone could wake her from death's sleep. There was no sound, but his mouth could be seen framing a single helpless, urgent word: Misa's name.

A door banged against the wall as the humans all fled out of it, and Rem was left in an empty room with sharp pain and dulled senses.

"Shinigami Rem."

Or not quite empty. That strange human, the one who held his body like a Shinigami and had a lonely letter for a name, had remained behind and was now staring at her with intent eyes and a serious, quietly urgent demeanor.

"Did you write Misa's name?"

Rem's claws at once became aware of the notebook and pen clutched in their useless grasp.

"…No. I did not." She didn't know why, but she held the empty page out with a long arm for his eyes to fall upon and verify her hollow words.

The human quickly scanned the blank white of the page. "I see," he said simply, pulling his thumb up to his mouth for human-dull teeth to nip at. "Then can you tell me who her killer was? Or was the heart attack of natural causes, unlikely as the case may be?"

"It was…" Rem's mouth was moving of its own accord, but she had neither the will to care nor a reason to stop it. There were no rules against this. "It was another Shinigami."

A sharpened black gaze darted to her empty eyes.

"Under orders from a human?"

Again Rem's mouth moved, again it answered a pointless question.

"No…I cannot know for sure, but I think not." She knew Ryuk. Ryuk would have done it for some sudden whim, a careless search for entertainment, not because of an order from any human.

"Is there any danger of this Shinigami writing any of the names of the rest of us in this building?"

Her eyes flicked to the monitor. Ryuk's tools were put away as he hovered over the human pair on the floor, a wide grin on his face.

"…I don't think so."

The human in front of her nodded and turned to stare at the computer screen again to watch as Yagami Light, still kneeling beside Misa's body and holding her with apparent tenderness and despair, was eventually joined by the others, the one who shared part of his name pulling him off Misa's body and into his own arms, looking awkward and unsure and stunned as he uncertainly comforted his son. Even on the screen, though, his love and concern could be seen.

Rem had no one now, no one to whom she could give love or concern. She was empty, abandoned to apathy, any remaining vitality drained from her with the remainder of Misa's life. What she did now didn't matter. There was nothing of purpose she could do now.

…She could kill Yagami Light.

She could kill him, and it wouldn't even kill her.

After all, he was the reason Misa had given away her life so carelessly. He was the one who had stolen her heart and her common sense, the one she had given everything for. He was why she was dead.

He ought to die.

Easily as a breath of air, her pen made a single stroke on pure white paper.

"Rem! Promise me, even if I die, you won't let anything happen Light!"

It made another stroke, the flash of memory brushed aside.

"Please!"

"But, Misa-"

"You have to watch out for him, as if he were me! Promise me!"

Another two strokes.

"I don't think-"

"No! You have to! Don't you understand? I've already given him my heart – he'll have it even if I'm dead! So I need this, I need to know he'll be happy – promise me you'll keep him happy and alive as long as possible! I need you to do this, Rem!"

"…All right. I promise."

"Thank you Rem!"

Rem's pen stilled.

She had already failed Misa once today. Could she break her promise now?

"What are you doing, Shinigami Rem?" The voice was calm, but there was an underlying tension and anxiety to the deep tone as black eyes noticed her actions.

Rem looked at the half-formed name which tainted the page before her.

"…Nothing. I'm doing nothing."

And she gently closed the notebook, then slipped note and pen away.

For you, Misa. I will keep my promise.

Light had been expecting to die any second.

Even as he clung to Misa's stilled body, self-preserving instinct taking over and pushing his own body to act the part of the terrified boyfriend, his mind had already realized that with Misa dead, there was no buffer between him and the overprotective Shinigami that had loved her.

Rem could kill him any moment. And there was nothing he could do to stop it. His death could be only heartbeats away.

Then adrenaline overrode all else and he snapped into action.

"Ryuk," he whispered hurriedly under his breath, his face hidden from electronic eyes as he pretended to try to pull Misa from death's hold. "If a Shinigami holds a Note, does it remain visible to human eyes?"

"Uh…I don't think so? 'Cause it's from the Shinigami realm."

Light quickly wormed the condemning Death Note from beneath the dead girl's shirt, blocking his actions from the cameras with his body as he hid it temporarily in his own jacket. The task force would arrive any second, and if that notebook were to be found on her dead body, the proof of her guilt would be almost unavoidable. It would at least be proof enough for L. And if it were found on Light's body – dead or alive – that would be as good as signing a confession.

And Light knew, even if he died, he couldn't let that bastard win so easily. Even if Light was about to pass away into nothingness, he would leave L behind to wallow in confusion.

"Ryuk," he ordered in a harsh whisper, pretending to be frantically searching for signs of life from Misa's body, his fingers pressed to her cold neck and his cheek above her parted lips. "Get your worthless piece of shit ass down here and take this notebook."

"Hyuk, you sure you want to be talking to me like that right now? And I told ya Light – I'm not on your side. What makes you think I'm going to help you?"

Misa's body was still warm beneath Light, a gruesome pretence of life, while the tile was cold beneath his knees, which were beginning to ache, but his smile was deadlier than poison as he flashed it up at the Shinigami, carefully kept pointed away from the cameras.

"I'm not asking for help, Ryuk. I'm telling you to get the fuck down here and take back this notebook. Now."

A mouth of knives grinned down at him. "Ya know, you're the scariest human I know, Light. And I mean that as a compliment. But if I take this, you realize you're basically forfeiting ownership of it, right?" he asked, swooping down to push his sharp, demented smile right in front of Light's face. His breath filled Light's nose, a haze of musky death and a strange tang Light would bet money was apple.

"That means I'm free to go up to the Shinigami realm, no obligations," Ryuk reminded him with a deep, twisting chuckle. "You still have your other Note, so you won't lose your memories, but you can't really use that one, can ya? That L guy's got it all locked up. So what happens if I don't come back this time? Maybe I'll just give the notebook to some other human. Someone with…apple trees, let's say."

Despite the desperate situation, Light found a pleased smirk curling the corners of his lips at the Shinigami's gall.

"You're really going to try twisting this to your advantage and threatening me into giving you more apples? I had no idea you were such a gutsy bastard, Ryuk. I just don't know whether to be impressed or to be exasperated that you're wasting this opportunity on something as insignificant as fruit."

Ryuk's grin stretched impossibly wider.

"I've picked up on a few things, hanging around you all the time. And as a Shinigami, there isn't much else to care about than fruit. So how 'bout it? Is a useable Death Note worth a few more apples a day?"

Light's eyes flickered towards the elevator, and the slim arrow calmly informed him it was six floors away and coming closer.

Damn insolent Shinigami. Light didn't have the time for this.

"It was a good try, Ryuk," he said, his head dropped in apparent despair as he pulled Misa's body into his arms, though his voice was all ice and composed amusement. "But you've missed an important lesson: don't make threats you can't follow through with. So don't fuck with me, idiot. We both know you'll get too bored following someone else around, no matter how many apples you have."

"Maybe," Ryuk conceded with a twitch of his shoulder that was too inhuman to be really called a shrug as he straightened up in the air and began drifting leisurely circles around the two on the floor. "But are you sure you want to risk it?"

And Light's own shoulders shook minutely as he laughed, though to any other eyes (electronic or otherwise) but Ryuk's the movement would only have seemed dipped in grief.

"You really are a sly son of a bitch when you want to be," he said, cutting his laughter off and speaking quickly, hyperaware of the ever approaching elevator and the slim notebook tucked just inside his jacket, his body curled concealing over Misa's body in his arms. "All right then Ryuk, let's make a deal. I'll give you two weeks to look for someone you'd rather have possess the Death Note. At the end of two weeks, come see me again and we'll continue this conversation. Now get the fuck down here."

Ding.

To Light's left, the lift doors began to glide open.

"Misa!" Matsuda's frantic voice slipped out through the doors before his body could fit. "Light! Is she okay?"

"Now, Ryuk," Light hissed, his face buried in one clutched hand.

Finally, Ryuk's dark, jagged laughter twisted around Light. "Deal. See ya later, Light." Then a burnt-black claw of a hand slipped inside his jacket and curled around the notebook cover, and a moment later Ryuk had disappeared completely, a ghost's chuckle the last to fade away.

"Have fun," Light breathed to the seemingly empty air, and he felt something sharp and invisible slice lightly along his cheek in reply, leaving a thin line of apple-red blood behind.

Shitty Shinigami. Did he really think Light wouldn't pay him back for that? He'd better enjoy those two weeks.

Then gentle hands were tugging at his shoulder, his father's voice in his ear, as the rest of task force began to crowd around the lifeless body like chickens to feed.

"Light, son, you need to let go of her now. Let Watari-san check her over."

Light released Misa and allowed himself to be pulled to his feet and into his father's too-tight arms, slipping easily into his role of devastated lover as Watari fruitlessly checked her vital signs, surrounded by the anxious task force.

He wasn't dead yet, Light realized, the knowledge suddenly flooding his system. Rem had definitely had plenty of time to write his name down, yet his heart was still beating steadily against his ribs. He was alive, for now.

That wasn't to say everything was in the clear now. Not only had he lost his only pair of Shinigami eyes, but the only Death Note currently available for use had wandered off and wouldn't be back for two weeks, and he'd have to make do with the tiny scrap concealed in his watch for now.

But the greatest problem lay, unsurprisingly, with L. Light knew the fact that Misa had died in his arms wouldn't be overlooked by the detective, and the coincidence would be ruthlessly used against him. L was a determined bastard, already positive of Light's guilt, and this was just too good an opportunity to pass up.

Light pushed away from his father's suffocating hold (how old did he think he was, anyway?) to watch in flawless desperation as Watari straightened from Misa's still form.

"She's dead," Watari announced calmly, his grey eyes landing softly on Light like a gentle wind, and Light realized in the back of his mind it was the first time the aged man had ever looked directly at him. Those sorrowed, dignified eyes didn't leave his, even as cries of shock and grief from the others (particularly Matsuda) clouded around them. He stared quietly into Light's eyes, and Light wasn't sure if his gaze was an attempt at accusation or solace.

It was…unexpected. Light had always dismissed Watari before, writing him off as L's tea-and-cake lackey, but that gaze was too perceptive for a mindless minion. Watari would bear watching.

Then a phone buzzed and those eyes averted once again as Watari withdrew a small phone from his pocket, raising it to his ear.

"Miss Amane has passed away, sir," he said by way of greeting, and Light listened intently while pretending to stare at Misa's slackened features in numbed shock. "Yes, all evidence indicates a heart attack."

There was a pause, no doubt as L relayed further instructions, but as hard Light strained his ears he couldn't hear. Out of the corner of his eyes, he saw a grey gaze flicker to his face.

"…Very well, sir. I will take care of it immediately."

The phone beeped off, and Light lifted his chin to meet Watari's eyes once more.

"While L would like to express his deepest condolences for this tragedy," Watari began, and Light wanted to laugh out loud and declare it for the bullshit it was but of course did not, "he has ordered for you to be returned to confinement for the time being. He hopes you can understand the necessity."

Light's eyes fell on Misa's body with pretended sorrow, stealing himself time to think.

This development was to be expected. L was a paranoid bastard with the international clout to get away with more felonies than an organized crime syndicate, and Light had just given him an adequate cause – adequate for L, at least – to lock him away again. That was how L reacted to situations such as this, after all – Light knew this. L was someone who, when met with something he couldn't understand, preferred to tie it down and watch it until he did, if he could find a reasonable excuse to do so. And, being L, he had much more slush room for what was considered reasonable than the rest of the world.

It didn't matter though. In the end, L still didn't have enough evidence to convict Light. It would just be a little more wasted time in a dim cell, then Light would be released again. As much influence as L had, he couldn't keep Light there forever without cause. In fact, if the outraged shouts currently storming out of his father's mouth were any indication, it was possible Light wouldn't even need to spend the entire night there.

So, ignoring the protests from the others, he pulled his eyes to Watari's and nodded.

"I understand, Watari-san. But…" his eyes drifted meaningfully to the corpse sprawled on the cold, spotless tile.

"Miss Amane's body will be cared for with the utmost respect, so you may be at ease concerning that matter."

Light nodded again and turned to his upset father.

"Don't worry, Dad – I'm sure it won't be long," he said, putting on a brave, grief-tinged smile. "I'm sure L can see there's no way I could have written her name while-" he faltered a moment, feigning a moment of overpowering emotion, before gaining control again. "-while I was holding her."

A heavy hand clasped his shoulder, serious eyes staring into his. "Are you sure you'll be all right, son? I know you're strong, but no matter how strong you are, you still just went through a traumatic event. It's okay if you're not all right."

Light answered with a slightly unsteady nod. "I'm- I'll be fine. Just…make sure she's taken care of? She… She deserved much better than this."

Light might have gone on, but at that moment he found himself wrapped in Matsuda's tight embrace, the man getting his shoulder wet with tears – and there better not have been any snot mixed in with it, because Light really didn't want to blow his cover by punching him one in the face.

"It's not fair!" Matsuda wailed into his jacket. "She was so young, and you were finally returning her feelings! I'm- I'm so sorry, Light!"

Light patted the sniffling policeman's back softly, fighting to keep a grimace of distaste from his lips.

"Um…thanks, Matsuda. That…means a lot to me." Gingerly extracting himself from Matsuda's trembling hold, he turned to Watari once again. "All right, I'm ready. Please lead the way, Watari-san. Unless, will I need to be cuffed again?"

"I'm afraid so, Yagami-kun. If I may have your wrists a moment?"

Light obligingly held out his wrists as Watari withdrew a pair of handcuffs from his pocket (Light had a momentary, incongruous comparison flash into his mind, of fictional English nannies and limitless carpetbags, which he quickly pushed aside), and once the cold metal was coiled around him again he allowed Watari to lead him off towards a narrow hallway, footsteps tapping quietly on tile. He didn't spare a glance back at Misa's body, which was being gingerly lifted by Mogi and Aizawa, as he finally allowed his seething anger to be acknowledged.

Damn it, damn it, damn it to fucking hell. This was not how things were supposed to go.

Everything was uncertain now, all guarantees and careful plans destroyed with the silencing of one heart, and it certainly wasn't the right one that had been snuffed out. It was supposed to be L's heart that froze in his chest, L's breath that died in his throat, L's eyes that closed in the final sleep of death – not Misa's. And there was no one even for Light to reasonably blame, save the cruel indifference of fate and the universe, which just made the galling irony worse.

But Light could handle this.

This was a momentary set-back, a bump in the road, but Light wouldn't be worthy of being Kira if he couldn't deal with such unexpected developments. It seemed the game wasn't over yet, and he would not allow L to so easily turn the tables and claim victory for his own.

I will see you dead, L. Enjoy your borrowed time.

Next round, there would be no mistakes. Light would make sure of it.

"Everything is poison, there is poison in everything. Only the dose makes a thing not a poison."

-Paracelsus