A/N: Holy crap. Just.. holy. CRAP! I'M BACK! J.A.M. is BACK! It's been over two years since the last update, and I am so sorry! The story had fizzled out for me for some reason, partly due to a lot of personal turmoil. But now, the urge to finish what I began has really hit me, so we finally have our next chapter; you get to FINALLY find out what happened to Ide and Sayu!

I really don't know what prompted my lazy self to finally start writing this again; even amid college finals, I've felt an increasing desire to write again...what better way to get back into it than with this 'fic that you guys have stuck with through (some from the very beginning) all this time. I couldn't believe that, even though it had literally a hiatus longer than two years, that J.A.M. would still receive an occasional review, asking about the story's continuation, or just encouraging me with the enthusiasm for this thing I've written. I can't even begin to express my gratitude for you guys; it's humbling and inspirational. Thanks so much. Now, after that incredibly mushy shpiel', enjoy this terribly UN-mushy two-year-late update! :D :D 3 ('Mari, that was a CRAZY long A/N...)

Chapter Thirteen

The radio in his car was usually full of static and hissing, but today of all days it seemed worse than usual, the spitting static almost completely masking the disturbing news.

Aizawa cursed quietly, slapping the dashboard open-palmed as if it would unscramble the loose connection he suspected was the cause of the bad signal.

Not now. Come on, not now…

His day thus far had sucked to the enth degree, and he had a feeling it was about to get a whole lot worse. He'd gotten home late that night, like every other night, and had been woken up before sunup because Yumi and Eriko were having an argument in the kitchen while she was getting ready for school. Eriko of course, had gotten angry with him when he started trying to break it up, and even now, he distinctly remembered wondering why exactly he wanted to be home so badly.

Once Yumi left, Eriko decided to turn her wrath (perhaps she'd been PMS'ing, he'd wondered) on him. It started out with being accused of not being around enough to help with the family matters, and turned into something about "another stupid case ruining your life." He wasn't sure anymore. Then Mogi had called to tell him that there had been some kind of break-in at a dinky little place called the Blue Rose Café, and that they should all get down there right away. There'd been a brief instant when he'd scrambled for an excuse not to come, but then Mogi added, "Ide and Matsuda were down there too."

That moron. What has he done now? He thought with a sigh, clutching the steering wheel. There's no way this was a coincidence. Noboru's got something to do with this, I'm sure.

Despite what he thought, he still couldn't ignore the apprehension gnawing away at his insides. Stupid Matsuda….that damn kid is just a magnet for trouble. And Ide…

Dammit, I should never have agreed to let him hold on to Matsuda. I should have let him stay with me. Should have known Noboru would pull a stunt like this. I should have been more alert. I should have- what the hell?

He'd been worried he was going to fly by the Blue Rose, especially when Mogi told him it was a little tiny place attached to a mini-mall, but he never should have given it a thought. The chaos was impossible to miss.

The Blue Rose was close-set to the road, the asphalt littered with shards of glass. Police cars had the road blocked off, and he heard the piercing wails of an ambulance. Aizawa shoved the car into park before he'd completely stopped, cursing as the engine jerked and protested the abrupt gear shift.

He stopped the first officer he saw, automatically pulling out his badge and brandishing it at the other man. "What happened here? Why the ambulance? How many casualties?"

"Not all at once, Detective," the man sighed, holding out a hand, palm up. "Since you were clearly informed of this, they must have briefed you, right?"

"Not exactly," Aizawa replied tightly.

"Three masked and consequently unidentified people – we think they were all male – entered the Blue Rose Café after throwing several smoke grenades through the windows." He shifted, a piece of glass crunching underfoot. "Hence, the mess."

Aizawa clenched his fists. This was taking too long. He just wanted to find Ide and Matsuda.

"Look, forget all the details. Just… there were two people. A man around my age, and another guy, only he looks and acts more like a kid. Messy black hair, big stupid grin…." He was aware he was babbling. The look the officer was giving him pretty much confirmed it.

The man rubbed his face with the heel of his hand, sighing. "Sorry, I just got here recently myself. I'm not much more informed than you. Even if I'd been here, start to finish, I still wouldn't be able to pick out two people among all the damn craziness."

Aizawa stared at the ground. "I see. Sorry."

Hurriedly, he walked brushed past the officer and headed up to the café. The smell of the smoke grenades was strong and pungent, like someone had set off a hundred fireworks or blown out a ton of birthday candles all at once. The large glass windows had been broken in – apparently they'd wanted to make a statement and make as much of a mess as possible. Why else would they walk in through the windows instead of just using the damn door?

He looked up near the top of the far-right window, the two small holes catching his eye. They'd probably thrown the grenades in there. Aizawa pulled his gaze back down, taking in the overturned chairs and the occasional table, smashed glasses and plates. He took a step forward and groaned – he'd stepped in a scattered pile of some kind of noodles, which smeared all over the underside of his shoes.

Disgusted, he looked up again, right into the eyes of Sayu Yagami.

"M-Mr. Aizawa?" she stammered, her voice shaking.

"Sayu? What are you doing here?"

He didn't hear the girl's answer, because then he looked to her left, at the person the paramedics were stabilizing, the blood in a puddle around his feet and all over his shirt.

"Ide!" He shouted, storming over. "Ide, oh my god, you've been shot! What the hell happened?" He knelt down in the glass and the blood and didn't care, didn't feel the glass pricking through his pants and digging into his knees. "Hey! Hey Ide, talk to me, dammit!" he went to grab his friend's shoulders, but the paramedic shoved him away.

"Control yourself, sir!"

"Damn you!"

Ide, oh god, how could this happen? I never thought you'd…

Aizawa ground his teeth back and forth. "He's alive right? Otherwise, you wouldn't be yelling at me to stay away from him."

"Yeah, and we just got the bleeding to stop. Good thing he's finally stable. Never would have been able to survive the drive to the hospital otherwise."

Aizawa stared down at Ide, sprawled out on a stretcher, the top half of his shirt cut away, hanging in shreds. Lengths of white bandages and gauze swooped around his torso, most of it concentrated on the left side.

It's practically on top of his lung and heart. It's a miracle he's still alive.

"A…Ai…"

He stiffened, and stared closer at Ide. His eyes were open a slit, and he was trying to smirk.

"Don't talk, you idiot," he snapped, relief flooding through him.

"Can't…can't believe… the bastard got me…" Ide mumbled, ignoring him.

"Yeah, fine," Aizawa said hastily. "Just shut up, okay?"

"Mhm…Is Sayu…still here?"

"I-I'm here. Thanks Ide."

Aizawa threw a glance at her over his shoulder. He'd almost forgotten she was still there. He pulled his eyes away from Ide's prone form and stood up, facing Sayu.

"Can you tell me what happened?"

She gulped, and fresh tears trickled down her dirty cheeks. "I t-think so. We were all just sitting and eating lunch, and then I heard smashing glass. Then it was raining down on me, and I saw a little container rolling on the floor. Red smoke started coming out of it…" She swiped her face with the back of her hand. Aizawa could tell she was still really shaken.

"And then they came. I couldn't see, but I could hear. T-they…were with Ide and Matsuda, talking to them…and they…" she covered her mouth and jerked her face away as her voice began to tremble even more. "T-they took him!" She cried. "They took Matsuda!"

She was crying now. Aizawa felt the world spinning, or maybe it was his damned head. He was finding it hard to focus, fighting against the panic.

Noboru's got him…Noboru's goddamned got him…

Awkwardly, he put a hand on her shoulder and waited for her to compose herself. He'd never find out what happened without her anyway. He was surprised at how upset she was, the muscles in her shoulder curling and jumping against his palm.

"Saved my life." Aizawa turned around, Ide regarding him with a glassy-eyed stare. It still managed to be piercing.

"What?"

"She saved…my life. 'Boru…whoever it was… was gonna shoot me, and she hit him…in the head with…'er purse."

Sayu sniffled, and he faced the girl, eyeing her with a newfound if not grudging admiration.

God. How did she even do that, considering her kidnapping only a few months ago…

"Thanks," Aizawa told her, awkwardly reaching out to touch her shoulder. "I don't know how you did it, but I'm grateful."

I'd sure hate it if this fool were dead.

He wanted to add that to the end of his sentence, a sad attempt at injecting humor into the horror, but he couldn't say it; Ide really had been so close to losing his life, he couldn't even joke about it.

The paramedic had vanished without any of them noticing – probably to put some of his supplies back into the ambulance – but now he returned, waving his assistant over. He said to Aizawa, "Sir, you need to step aside, please. We have to get him to a proper facility."

Aizawa blinked, stared dumbly at the man for at least several second before he comprehended the words and took a few steps back, Sayu backing away with him. His brain was on overload, he thought, so zapped out from everything that had just happened that he was having trouble focusing on anything.

"See ya' soon," Ide mumbled as they rolled the stretcher into the ambulance. Aizawa saw his hand twitch against the bindings, and figured he would have tried to wave at them if he hadn't been secured to the pristine stretcher.

"Take care," Aizawa replied, forcing the words past the sudden sandpaper in his throat. "I'll come as soon as I can get away."

Then he turned to Sayu, a silent, watery shadow beside him. She was shivering and clutching a jacket around her shoulders.

"Shouldn't you get yourself checked out too?" he suggested.

He saw the girl visibly swallow as she shook her head. "No, I'm fine. I wasn't hurt." Aizawa's eyes automatically dropped to her white hands, which were covered with cuts and abrasions from landing on the glass. "Besides," she added, "I couldn't. If Mom found out I was in the hospital, that I'd been caught up in this…" she pressed her eyes closed and actually shuddered. "It…just wouldn't be good," she finished.

Aizawa felt a curse burning at the back of his throat, felt his fists clench, but made himself keep control, purely out of respect for Sayu.

Damn you, Noboru!

"Fine then," he sighed. "Can I at least give you a ride home?"

Sayu was already shaking her head. "Thanks, but I'll just take the bus."

Aizawa winced, thinking of this introverted, polite girl amid the crush of people in her current condition. "Are you sure? Don't be stubborn, all right?" He prayed that didn't sound as harsh as his frustration. He couldn't help it. He was staring at her, at this girl, at Sayu Yagami, the daughter of the man he'd failed to protect. If he'd started suspecting Light sooner, maybe Soichero would still be alive. He wasn't going to let down Soichero's kid the same way.

"Yes, I'm fine," she said with a little more force, like she didn't really want to justify her choice. "I just…need to be on my own right now." She hesitated, looking away, before asking, "Mr. Aizawa?"

"Yeah?"

"Is…Matsuda going to be okay?" her voice was a broken whisper, barely heard above the rain.

The question made him feel sick all over again, but he carefully schooled his face into a calm expression. "I'll do everything I can to get him back."

Sayu looked up then, meeting his eyes straight on. He knew he hadn't answered her question, and she knew it too, but she didn't say anything, but remained silent, like she was looking for the truth to her question in his eyes. He was surprised at the strength he saw in her gaze, the sleeping bravery behind the frailty. He wondered how both could exist in someone at the sane time; all at once, he thought about how she had essentially saved Ide's life, and all the other – limited – things he knew about her, and suddenly, he could see why Matsuda was intrigued by her.

"All right, well, look" he muttered, fumbling, for his wallet – it was as wet as the rest of him – and pulled out a damp card, which he handed to her, "you can get a hold of me on my cell 24/7…literally," he added dryly. "Don't hesitate to call if you need anything, got it?"

Sayu looked up from the business card and managed a small smile. "Okay. Thank you, Mr. Aizawa."

She turned and crossed the glass-littered asphalt, making her way along the sidewalk back into town without looking back. Aizawa watched her go without really seeing her, mostly just zoning out and wishing he could stay like that. When he saw that she was gone, he sighed and muttered a curse at himself for no particular reason, turning to face the chaos again.

Noboru's men really had done a number on the Blue Rose. The entire front of the restaurant was completely blown inward, all the furniture broken, much of it shot full of holes. He crossed the street and stepped amid the debris, the sulfuric stench of the smoke bombs heavy in his nose, and bent down to pick up a bronze shell casing, a discarded round from the automatic rifles. He doubted a trace on the casing would return much – a guy like Noboru wouldn't be stupid enough to purchase his ammunition anywhere that could be traced – but it was worth a shot. He pocketed the casing, noticing some of the officers carefully doing the same.

Straightening up, his gut clenched all over again as he thought about Matsuda. He wished to hell he'd been there with them when Noboru had attacked, if only to hear the dialogue that had apparently ensued between Matsuda and the men. He wondered if he should have pressed Sayu for more details, anything to give some indication of what Noboru wanted with him, but he pictured her broken weeping, and thought that it was better that he hadn't. Only he still had no idea what had happened, why Noboru had taken him.

The longer he thought about it, the sicker he felt; his hands had started shaking, and his head was spinning dangerously. He thought he was going to fall to his knees, but, when that mental image entered his mind, that overt display of surrender and weakness was enough to snap him out of it.

You'll never find anything out by playing dead, he snapped.

Swallowing hard, Aizawa turned again, so he was again facing the street, the cops and detectives carrying on their business without glancing over his way. Though the area had been cordoned off, that didn't keep a crowd of spectators from milling around the area, pressing as close as the barriers would allow. They didn't all stay long, the miserable drizzle forcing them away, but when one person would leave, several more passersby would stop to gawk.

Damn idiots, he thought. There's no way this is ever gonna be kept under wraps now.

He was still staring numbly into the crowd when a man in a worn dark suit slipped smoothly beneath the plastic barricades, showing a badge to the officer who had immediately stepped in front of him. He spoke to the cop too quietly for Aizawa to hear, but he looked damned familiar.

I know him, he realized with a sickening certainty.

When the officer stepped away, the man looked straight at Aizawa and started walking towards him.

Aizawa shuddered. He remembered the dark hair, the icy blue eyes, the thin, cold voice informing them all how he'd managed to follow the fourth Kira to the true killer notebook and ruin the real Kira's plan for total victory. Mostly, he remembered a dark warehouse, the shots, and Matsuda's enraged screams.

"Gevanni," he said, unable to remove the hard edge of suspicion from his voice. "You're the one who remained here in Japan."

"That I am," he answered, his harsh American accent somehow not mangling his Japanese. "Like he said, L figured something like this would happen, so that's why I'm here." He paused and took a deep breath, letting his eyes travel around the mess in the Blue Rose, now that he was up close. "So, I hear one of your men was captured."

Aizawa wasn't sure if he was imagining the gloating, superior air to Gevanni's words, but even if he was, the stress of the entire situation - hell the entire day - had completely unraveled what little sense of courtesy he normally possessed.

"Yeah, he was," Aizawa snapped. "It was Matsuda. Of all of us the bastard could have taken, he picked Matsuda, dammit." He didn't really need to tell Gevanni that; he didn't know why he said it, knew only that he couldn't have this conversation with this man right now. He continued, completely dumping his anger and fear and frustration onto the kid before him, who, in truth, wasn't much older than Matsuda himself. "And if Near wasn't making you do all of his grunt work, you wouldn't know this, and Near sure as hell wouldn't know this, and he'd stay the hell out of our business!" His arms had somehow been raised without his knowing, his fingers jabbing at Gevanni's face. He realized how stupid he looked, shouting hysterically at a fellow cop, but he didn't care, nor did he have the capacity to stop himself anyway.

Grinding his heel into the debris, he turned and stomped off. Halfway across the asphalt, he spun back again, to face Gevanni who was calmly watching him with the same deadpan expression so akin to Near and L.

"And when you report this damn incident to your damnable boss, you can also let him know that I've finished writing up the information he requested, and I've sent it over. When you give him the message, maybe, as his loyal lapdog, he'll toss you a bone as a reward!"

He stormed towards his car and practically yanked the handle off the door, throwing himself inside, where the damp stink of his damp clothes and spent adrenaline promptly started permeating the interior. Blindly fumbling for the ignition, he floored the gas and sped away in the opposite direction of the damn Blue Rose, aware that he'd completely lost it and allowed his emotions to take control, instead of taking the chance to talk to any of the present cops to maybe find out the precise circumstances surrounding Matsuda's abduction.

Traffic appeared in front of him out of nowhere, several cars all stopped at some distant red light; he was so out of it that he narrowly missed smacking into the bumper of the gray Honda in front of him, slamming on his breaks and earning several loud horn blasts from cars before and behind him.

"Dammit!" he cried, swerving to the side, where he turned down the first side-street he saw. He pulled over and pounded on the dashboard until he knew his fist would bruise. A raw cry ripped from his throat, loud and long; it filled the car and echoed in his ears. Then, the last of his energy finally spent, he laid his head against the steering wheel and felt actual tears dribble between his skin and the plastic of the steering wheel.

Even when Noboru attacked him outside the hotel, Aizawa had never before felt so helpless.

And he had no idea what to do about it.

A/N 2!: Hope you all enjoyed! You certainly deserve it. For anyone who may be (understandably) confused, this is all happening while Matsuda was having sushi with Noboru; essentially, we've gone back in time to witness things through Aizawa's p.o.v. Anyway, there was one bit that I really wanted to include here (it's actual information regarding the investigation, instead of all this angst.. :P) but I couldn't without interrupting the flow of the chapter. It'll be in the next update (which will NOT be in two years; sooner, I promise!), so look out for a much more level-headed read.

p.s: No, I didn't write this whole thing in ...two days, or however long it's been since I first stirred back to life here on FanFiction. I'd actually had half of this chapter already written, believe it or not. I just never finished it until just now. ^_^