Death Note Fan Fiction ❯ A Balm for Social Failure ❯ Liberation ( Chapter 30 )

[ X - Adult: No readers under 18. Contains Graphic Adult Themes/Extreme violence. ]

A Balm for Social Failure

(Chapter 30: Liberation)
Light x L

L begins to suspect something is missing from his life. He believes the key to be in social interaction - his weak point. At the appearance of the enigma named Light Yagami, he is challenged to rise to the occasion.

Disclaimer: see ch. 1 for full disclaimer

A/N: The Naruto fic is up. The DN fic is still waiting for beta stuff.

(p.s.sssssssssss. I'm still catching up on replies and such. Late late late. But i've been writing, so that makes it ok. No, really, it does. BELIEVE IT.)

_____________________________________________________________ ________________________________________

Chapter 30:

Light blinked his eyes open carefully, half convinced that any sudden movement would topple his head from his shoulders. He appeared to be laying down and he felt as if he were viciously drunk, though even the smell of alcohol did not convince him that that was the case.

He was in a small room - what looked to be a bedroom.

His limbs moved sluggishly, but after several attempts, he managed to prop himself upright. He groaned and held a hand to his head, making no sense of the brown hair obscuring his vision. Disjointed images flowed into his mind, but they were not coherent enough for him to recall what had happened.

"You're awake?" someone said with surprise. A glass was soon pressed to his lips and water slid down his throat. He was slow to swallow, and choked on it a little.

"Where am I?" he rasped, too dizzy to focus on the person's face, or anything else for that matter. "Why do I smell like alcohol?"

"I haven't had a chance to change you." They evaded his questions, making him feel uneasy. "You awoke sooner than I expected."

Something was removed from his head, and he could see more clearly. The details of the room still evaded him, so he looked upon the person before him - stared at the person before him - and it slowly dawned on him, as hands moved too quickly to undo his shirt and expose his skin... The second Kira.

He remembered now, that solicitous voice and the way those eyes had looked at him in the hotel room. Focused. Hungry.

The zipper on his shirt was halfway down before he thought to stop it with words instead of will. "I can do it myself."

Rich, brown eyes looked at him in the same way now. Fixated, challenging him before releasing their hold.

His feeling of unease had intensified.

He needed to establish some upper ground with this man. He was not in control of himself as of yet and could not move as he wished. Showing that weakness would be intolerable. It might encourage the man to take advantage of him while he was in such a state.

"Bring me some other clothes," Light commanded. Forcing his voice to modulate properly was a chore, but it was reasonably well-accomplished. The arrogant tilt to his head cost him. Nausea trickled down the back of his neck in icy, prickling trails, but he held fast.

The dark-haired man with the brown eyes smiled at him and went to do so.

Light rested a moment, against what he imagined to be the headboard of the bed, allowing the sick feeling to pass. The modern style bedroom had two doors, white like the walls. One seemed to lead to a bathroom, the other, the door his wayward servant had disappeared through, must lead to the rest of the apartment. While the man's attention was diverted, Light focused on making his motor skills cooperate. It was a losing battle. Even the simplicity of a zipper was giving him trouble.

A soft laugh made Light look up with a frown.

I was wrong. Three doors. One had led to another room that appeared to function as a closet and perhaps also a dressing room. Light's head felt fizzy and overstuffed. Then it was the bathroom on the right, the rest of the apartment through the door at the foot of the bed, and the closet room - the room from which his captor had emerged - to his left.

"Allow me," the man said silkily, sitting before him on the bed and brushing his clumsy hands aside.

Light bit the inside of his lip, angered at the lack of control he had over the situation. He made his face express boredom as he let the man do as he wished, as if it suited him just fine to be undressed by a stranger. Right now, he was defenseless.

"What is your name?" Light asked. "I assume you are able to tell me now." He had to establish some sort of dominance, or this man might feel free to act upon the look that haunted his eyes. The adoration that burned within them as he bent to his task was too intense. Light wanted to rescind the baring of his skin beneath that gaze. He wanted control over his body again, but the effects of the chloroform would take a while to wear off. Thankfully, his voice was cooperating for the most part.

The man looked up. "Teru," he said simply.

It was his given name, Light was certain. "What is your full name?" Teru seemed set on forcing a level of intimacy on him that was entirely unacceptable.

"Just Teru."

Light bit back his initial irritated response to that, and set his tone to a lighthearted one. "Are you afraid of what I would do with your full name?" He smiled.

"Yes." Teru smiled back.

Light was not sure how to respond, so he kept silent. Teru resumed his undressing, and Light did his best to seem unaffected and comfortable, despite how desperately he disliked the situation and the many accidental touches he had to endure. Teru slipped the shirt from his shoulders as if he were undressing a lover, and Light couldn't help but flinch as hooded eyes met his.

Teru was like Misa, then, in that I am the focus of his desire. I am the tool with which he can be controlled.

Light's mind hummed in a cold, fast-paced flurry as the dark-haired man's face drifted closer. Dozens of calculations and scenarios were processed and solutions forged and discarded. Teru's eyes started to close as his face tilted up to Light's.

"Would you presume upon your God so lightly?" Light asked, holding his ground as Teru's lips were nearly touching his.

It was a subtle reprimand, but one spoken as if from a place of power. The effect was immediate. Teru withdrew automatically, his eyes holding a mixture of self-flagellation, reverence and adoration. He tipped his head down. "I'm sorry, I don't know what came over me."

Light reached out and touched his face, drawing it up again. He smiled coldly, but instilled within it the promise of warmth. It was the sort of hook that could string people along endlessly. "Now is not the time for that. Help me undress."

Teru did as he was bid, and the exchange had shifted the dynamic of their interaction. The dark-haired man was now very careful to avoid unnecessary touches or prolonged gazes. It was the behavior of one who was trying to "be good" in the hopes of receiving what they wanted.

It wasn't all that different from how he had handled Misa. However, men were a different matter when it came to such things, physicality being more in their makeup than it was with women. In the long term, this was not sustainable without some convincing on his own part.

As Teru helped him change, Light found himself thinking of L.

L, who had never given in to his manipulations as wholeheartedly as everyone else. L, who fought him at every turn, and was all the more precious for it. He bowed his head as the man helped him slip a button-down shirt over his arms. L... you think I have done this of my own free will, I am sure. But should I meet you again, I doubt you would believe me if I said otherwise. Are we fated to be at cross purposes like this? Should I take my chances, and do all that I can to escape you now that I have been liberated? Or should I let you find me in the hopes that you won't destroy me?

"Is something on your mind?" Teru asked quietly, waiting now at his feet like a true servant.

"You have put me in a difficult position by ignoring my instructions."

Teru's face became still, hiding his thoughts. "God..." He dropped his eyes. "I am yours to command."

---

L was in a mood, the likes of which even Watari had never seen before.

"Sir, perhaps you should try to calm down."

L's dark eyes whipped to him, and they were cutting. "He's gone, and you want me to calm down?"

It was obvious to Watari that the detective wasn't thinking clearly. Evidence of that was in a dozen little details, but namely in that L was not taking immediate action on anything. It was as if he were shell-shocked.

"Please, Sir, try not to raise your voice." Loud noises were exacerbating Watari's headache. Chloroform would do that. He'd called L just as soon as he was able.

But L was not of a mind to listen.

"Get me the surveillance video."

Watari didn't bother to mention that it would be just as expedient for L to retrieve his laptop, so he could check the digital feed, from headquarters himself.

L was starting to pace again with clipped, discomfited strides. Everything about him showed a level of extreme agitation and distress. It was worrisome. "Very well, Sir. I shall return shortly." It was probably for the best that none of the task force saw L like this. Those questions were ones that would be difficult to answer indeed.

---

L stared at the screen of his laptop and bit into his thumb until he tasted blood. He'd ordered Watari to leave him undisturbed while he went over the video, and was glad he'd done so. He didn't need any additional distractions, such as keeping a mask over any expressions that might leak through, and he knew the older man would be studying him for reactions.

He was grateful the intruder had only used anesthesia on his mentor and had not damaged him further, but he was not in a mind to express such sentiments to the older man properly, so he refrained.

He focused on the screen once more, accompanied by the metallic taste of anxiety, and watched the replay of a scene for the fourth time.

Light had escaped...

Light had been unconscious...

Light would despise being in such a state and leaving his fate in someone else's hands.

The feed showed the entrance of the intruder and the subtle interplay between them before the chloroform was used. Light somehow knew this person, and had acted surprised to see them. The man dressed as a bellhop had offered his hand as if offering Light freedom. Light refused him twice, and the tilt of his head indicated to L that he felt above this person and was likely communicating something to them with his eyes. The man had attacked. Light had struggled.

L stopped the recording.

The thing he came back to again and again was whether he could take the scene at face value, or whether all of it was scripted.

He rewound to the point in which Light had first entered the bedroom. He watched the scene, and the other boy's odd behavior, feeling it pull at something in his chest. Would Light have taken care to act this far ahead? Even for him, that might be considered excessive.

But then again, Light was an extremely meticulous person.

The brunette was likely to do all that he could in order to make this look like he had been taken from here against his will, so that if the operation failed, or L later caught up with him, he could beg innocence.

L let the chloroform scene, as he mentally referred to it, play out again. He could watch it impartially if he thought of it as a great performance. He could pick it apart and analyze it, with only tweakings of anger touching him as he watched the skillful actors - mostly at himself for being taken in by it. However.

There remained the possibility that it was not an act, and that all was as it was truly presented.

This was the thing fueling the harsh treatment of his thumb.

That one little difference, and the video was near unwatchable.

What Light had been communicating to the man silently then would have been something of a reprimand. The tilt of his head indicated confidence. He did not expect to be disobeyed. How shocked must he have been then, how totally unprepared, when the man had grabbed hold of him and forced the rag to his face. How desperate Light must have felt as he struggled.

But why would he refuse freedom?

Not once, but twice.

Light sagged in the man's arms.

L ground his teeth upon his thumb. This part... this was the part that was most disturbing to him... The long moment where the uniformed man held the brunette, staring into his face. It wasn't just Light's vulnerability that got to him. It was the man's demeanor. It was the way in which he cradled the brunette to him and the way he seemed unable to look elsewhere.

If it were an act, what purpose would such things serve?

It would be senseless for Light to incite jealousy and possessiveness in him if it were merely an act, for that would undermine his 'innocence' once he was found and secured. Yet it was just the sort of thing the brunette might do, just to see if he could get away with it.

L watched the man carry Light from the room, then switched to the other camera feed. It was infuriating that there were no clear shots of the bellhop's face and that he refrained from speaking aloud. The man lay Light on the floor and rifled through the bag he had entered with. He dressed the brunette in common garments, then picked him up and made his exit with Watari's keycard. It was all done with professional efficiency.

L chewed his thumb, ignoring the throbbing pain it was beginning to cause.

He wished he could have followed the rest of the man's movements to see how far this ruse had been planned out. The suitcase had seemed rather full, and probably housed additional clothing for one or both of them to wear on the way out. The man had expected someone to be watching Light at all times. He had expected interference every step of the way.

I became lax.

I tired of the constant, real-time monitoring, and that failure was exploited.

What is the truth? Is this Light's answer to giving up the notebook? Or is this mutiny simply a matter of ill-timing?

---

Light stared blankly at one of the walls in the bedroom. It had been two days.

Black framed modern art, the kind composed of shapes and mostly monochromatic color schemes, broke the pristine white of the walls. He'd had plenty of time to analyze and memorize every detail. Dark-stained wood furniture, minimal, elegant and very nearly black took up space on the flawlessly white carpet. Recessed lighting that could be raised of dimmed provided the only source of illumination.

Despite Teru's assurances that he would do nothing but what Light wished, he was nonetheless confined to this room. It was greatly irritating. He couldn't fault the man, however. He would have done the same.

So he sat, upon the bed dressed with black silk sheets and a down comforter, within his cage that was accented by the trappings that only good money in great quantity could buy.

Teru continued to remain 'just Teru', refusing to unveil his full name, even with encouragement.

Again, he could not fault the intelligence in that, but he despised his own wasted efforts.

He also despised the fact that he was bound and unable to move freely. I-am-your-humble-servant Teru did not trust him. He supposed the man was playing his own games in a way, seeing what Light would do to gain his trust, though he treated him with deference in almost all things.

How strange.

If a God were made flesh, would humans really worship it while cutting the wings from its back with unrepentant, wicked blades? In what manner would they justify such things to themselves? Or was it a failing of logic that allowed the behavior?

Presently, the bedroom door that led into the rest of the apartment opened. It was evening, and Teru entered with a tray that likely bore their dinner.

Though he was not currently working at his job - he had mentioned taking a few days off - the dark-haired man spent a lot of time unaccounted for, which he refused to speak of. His typical reply to such queries was, 'I am doing your work.'

Light didn't feel like eating. He graced the man with a disdainful look.

"You're displeased," Teru said.

Light remained impassive and silent, letting his lack of response put the other man on the defensive.

Teru frowned, setting the tray down on the bed. "Is this meal not to your liking?"

"I don't know, I haven't bothered to look." He was good at playing the subtle threads of aloof disinterest, and capturing more fully the other's helpless desire to please him - regardless of the fact that Light was being purposefully difficult.

They stared at each other for a small eternity.

"I'm bored, Teru," Light intoned with quiet intensity. "I cannot be Kira here. I cannot be anything here."

Intelligent brown eyes regarded him solemnly. Otherwise, the man's attractive face betrayed nothing. It was a skillful facade, but one Light was determined to break. His servant did not like being questioned. No matter the contradiction of his willingness to keep Light bound, Light's opinion of him seemed to bear deep consequence upon his sense of self.

"What is the difference between your bondage and L's?" Light asked him. "For what reason did you free me, if freedom was not your true intention?"

"L will eventually kill you." The even pace of his words belied his uncertainty.

"Oh?" Light said softly, leaning back against the headboard and watching him in the dim light. "And how are you any different?"

Teru's eyes widened slightly.

Light smiled benevolently, drawing him in with hooded eyes as he held up his bound hands. "Just what is different, Teru?" The name rolled off of his tongue with calculated finesse, and he felt a thrill as he watched the effect he had over the person before him - the power he held over him. Rich brown eyes darkened and well-shaped lips formed a frown. Uncertainty and distress radiated from the man as he stared helplessly at Light.

"It's different," he whispered.

Light reeled him in with his gaze, memorizing the face, had he ever need of it, and the way his conservatively messy hair framed it. His pawn moved hesitantly forward.

Light turned his head slightly and offered him his cheek, receiving the tentative brushing of lips there with an air of petulant acceptance as if he might be swayed to allow more. This was a delicate game, but one that he was most certainly swaying to his advantage with every tangled emotion, though it was a bittersweet victory. He breathed in the faint trace of an expensive cologne, and half closed his eyes, forcing the tension from his body as Teru's hand gently tipped his face up to receive a kiss.

He noted the tremor in that hand with satisfaction, a thing with which he mollified himself as he let the other's lips touch his. Carefully... so carefully... Teru kissed him as if he thought Light would either shatter like glass or strike him down.

It was difficult to fake this. Not for the feel of it - it was pleasant, whereas Misa's affections were wholly abhorrent - but because his own emotions were not so easy to lay to rest as they had once been. It was more that he was following the logical path of this to its completion, imagining living freely as Kira without L to cripple him. Teru would be an acceptable subordinate, he would be controllable enough through the intimacies he desired, and Light could aptly play that game.

But that future felt empty.

A world without L.

A world full of hollow pleasure where he could do whatever he wanted, and never have what he truly wanted.

He felt numb. Why bother struggling at all? All roads led to L, was it? Was it preferable to face death by L's hand than to live forever eluding him?

He made a soft noise as Teru's hand smoothed down his stomach, bringing him back to himself. It wouldn't do to forget himself here and be lost in thoughts of L. "That's enough," he said in a lazy but firm voice, sure to tease and command at the same time. "I've only been with women before..." He left the rest unsaid, but trusted Teru would interpret his request to go slow and let him get used to the idea.

"Like Misa?" his servant replied, pulling back and sealing the emotion that had just a moment before suffused his face while Light had allowed him to be so close.

"Like Misa," Light agreed, settling back into his position of power like a satisfied cat. "She was a loyal follower. It was a shame that she died so uselessly." He dropped the lie and waited to see how it would fall.

"She did not appear to be intelligent enough to suit your purposes," Teru said with a slight challenge.

Ah, jealousy.

"She did well enough to find you," Light replied, assuaging the other's pride but digging at him at the same time. He let the amusement show on his face.

Teru stared back at him, slightly flustered, but his gaze was penetrating. Assessing. "You're a dangerous individual, Yagami Light," he remarked quietly. His brown eyes said he was aware of every trick and every manipulation Light was exposing him to.

Light smiled. Teru was astute, but he was not aware of everything. He saw just enough to convince himself that he was safe, and to justify his need to court Light's deadly flame. He thought he was in control. But control was an elusive thing indeed when you fell prey to awe and lust. And it was there in Teru's eyes. He was wary, but utterly smitten. "Would you expect anything less of Kira?"

Something eased in the dark-haired man's face, the adoration spilling back into his demeanor as he was reminded of how blessed he was to be in God's presence.

Teru smiled ruefully, as if finding it a dark sort of humor that God was embodied within a beautiful, haughty young man. "I expect all of that and more."

---

"Light," Ryuuk said, choosing a moment when Mikami was out of the room. "What are you doing here?"

Light raised a brow at him in annoyance. "I'm making the best of my second abduction," he said sarcastically.

"Well, yeah, but..." Ryuuk flapped around the room in a melancholy circle. "What about L?"

Light bristled. "What about him?"

"It's more fun to watch you with him. This guy's a pushover."

Light covered his face with his hands and muttered something unkind. "If you would like to offer your assistance in changing the situation..." he suggested darkly.

"No can do," the Shinigami replied. "I'm not in the business of being helpful, I exist to entertain myself."

"And stuff yourself with apples," Light said with disgust. "There are some in the kitchen area, I'm sure. I asked Teru to buy some the other day." Not that you deserve them, you foul thing.

"Really??!"

Light shook his head as the black-winged Shinigami disappeared through the wall. Hopefully the thing would take care not to be seen in its gorging.

He frowned, playing with the unobtrusive circle of one of his titanium earrings, ignoring the irritation he felt at the padded cuffs which kept his hands unable to move independently. They were connected to a length of chain that was locked about the headboard's wrought iron and prevented him moving far from the bed, though he could reach the bathroom and use it on his own.

His fingers toyed with the tiny ball at the bottom of the earring, spinning it on its axis. He'd spent a long time thinking. Not just about his current situation, but everything... and he'd finally come to a decision.

He could rid himself of the tracking devices and move on to a different location with his 'servant'.

This would have him running for the rest of his life, fleeing the brilliant mind of the detective he so wished to have as his own. Cumbersome, but achievable. He knew L well enough to anticipate his thoughts.

Spin, spin.

Or he could go for the big play, leaving the trackers in place and giving up the Death Note before L found him - in a show of good faith - hoping that L would find it in himself to be lenient. That was the only way to show the detective that it had not been his intention to escape and resume his activities as Kira.

It would put him at risk, however, to lose his memories in the presence of his dark-haired follower... It was hard to say whether the adoration would evaporate, whether anger would surface, or if he would be harmed in any physical way. Theoretically, he should remain the same, just without his memories of the notebook...

...but being bereft of the sharp wit of his Kira side might put him at an extreme disadvantage. That side had only surfaced as he began to use the notebook, so there was no reason for it to remain.

Spin, spin, spin.

He disliked the notion that Teru might, in fact, harbor enough of an obsession for him that the revoking of his godhood would merely make the man act more freely upon his desires.

He also wasn't keen on the scenario that placed him at the feet of his follower's potential fury when he discovered the disappearance of his 'God'.

Either was likely. It all came down to Teru's personality, which he did not know in great enough measure to determine.

Ryuuk was taking a long time to return. There couldn't have been that many apples... Light frowned with impatience, for once actually requiring the sharp-toothed creature's presence. Also, it unnerved him to think the Shinigami had found something else to spend its endless interest on.

The bedroom door opened, and Teru came through looking somewhat harried.

Light sat up straighter on the bed. "What is it?"

"They are looking for you," he said vaguely, locking hard eyes upon Light's face. "And I just realized..." he strode over to the brunette and grabbed him by the chin, tilting his head to the side. "These were not here just a short time ago. The school picture I have from Misa is recent."

Light felt his gut grow cold as the man touched one of the earrings to which he was referring.

"When did you come by these, Yagami Light?" he asked darkly. "In your captivity, am I correct?"

Pressure tugged at small hoop in his ear and Light prayed that they not be taken out in the fastest fashion possible. "...yes," he relented. If he lied now, it would be transparent, and would likely earn him a split earlobe.

Mikami's stare hardened further. It was ruthless and scathing. "Do you expect me to believe you hadn't thought they might contain something with which to track you? Why didn't you get rid of them?" He sounded desperate. "Why didn't you say anything??"

Where was Ryuuk? He needed to denounce ownership before anyone arrived! How close were they?

"You're overstepping your bounds," Light said coldly, improvising. "I was testing you." Teru's hold on him eased a fraction. He harbored just enough doubt that Light had something to work with. "You've failed. It's pathetic how long it's taken you to discover such a simple thing."

Brown eyes flashed between shock, hurt and anger.

Teru pushed him onto the bed suddenly, turning him over and trapping Light's arms under his body.

"What are you doing?" Light ground out, panicking slightly as he felt Teru's hands grasping roughly at an earring. He couldn't move.

"Getting rid of these."

Part of the frantic feeling in Light's chest as he felt the pull on his ear was that the man would be stripping him of one of the pieces of evidence that he had not betrayed L in this way. The other part was wanting to avoid the burning pain of torn flesh.

Suddenly, he changed his mind, wishing that Teru would rip them out - a mutilation that would attest to his protest at their removal. But he was not so lucky.

Teru released him, his breathing visible due to his agitation. "I'm going to dispose of these, and then we're leaving."

Light pushed himself up off of his stomach, with his bound hands, and gave him an unfriendly look. L might have this location logged, but if the earrings were not with him when they moved on - there was no telling how long it would take for the detective to track them down. If only Ryuuk would appear, and he could lose his memories before then - his follower might abandon him here in a fit of malcontent.

"I can see only action holds weight with you," Teru said stiffly, his posture tight with anger and apprehension. "Though I think your methods of testing leave something to be desired." He turned on his heel and left the room.

---

Mikami let out a frustrated sigh, grinding his teeth as he drove to meet a carrier. God was more demanding than he had expected. To put them both in danger of being captured, merely to see how he measured up?

One minute the brunette seemed harmless, a young man with a clever mind, the next, a cruel tyrant who would bring down the world around him without flinching.

At times he seemed reasonable, and at others he seemed utterly mad.

But always clever.

Always plotting.

And always breathtaking.

The nervous beating of Mikami's heart filled his chest as he made the turn. The carrier would transport the tiny box containing the earrings, which should give enough of a distraction for them to escape capture. He would rather take flight now, instead of running this errand, but it was a grave necessity. It wasn't far. A round trip of 15 minutes.

What was this obsession he had with the brunette? Embracing him was like holding his breath. Like waiting for spikes to spear through his flesh at the merest misstep. And yet, the absence of such... to be allowed to touch his perfect skin and partake of the warm ambrosia of his mouth...

To catch even a glimmer of the passion his God was capable of...

It was worth everything.

And despite this recent failing - on the whole - God was allowing him increasing liberties. It may have been in the hopes of gaining his name, but such knowledge paled when God lay in his arms. To be able to hear the catch in his breath even once as his hand had trailed over the brunette's hip, to be able to see the slight flush high on his cheeks or taste the sensitive flesh of his neck...

It was hard to obey when he was told to stop.

It was so very hard when longing coursed through every fiber of his being.

But he must obey. If God was being truthful about his experience, then pushing him too far against his wishes would ruin everything.

But Mikami couldn't help but wonder if God was merely being coy.

He stopped the car, having arrived at his destination, and got out.

---

15 minutes.

Mikami glanced at his watch as he stopped his car at a crosswalk. 15 minutes and 20 seconds, precisely. He had reached the block his apartment was located in and the people he had seen earlier - the tails - were notoriously absent. He didn't think for even a second that they were gone. Even had they broken into his apartment and stolen God away from him, they would not leave without the second Kira.

He hated the thought that they may have succeeded.

He would have taken Light with him and continued their escape after the drop-off... but having the brunette in tow would have drawn their pursuers' attention and ruined any hopes that they might be distracted by the moving signal of the tracking device, not to mention it would have taken longer to accomplish.

It was true, he may have been followed even now, but it was also likely that they had not yet pinpointed the signal to his specific apartment, or himself. In that case, he would be in the clear for at least a little longer. Maybe just long enough.

It was all up to chance. It was all up to luck for this to play out in his favor.

---

TBC

A/N: Well, all, looks like one more chapter at the least. ^^

I don't have a lick of it written..... (Don't freak. I am sitting down to try right now. It is Thursday morning. Plus, I have lots of notes!)..... but depending on how it goes, the update for next week may come late. If I force it, it'll suck, so bear with me. ;S

Poll: I'm curious, how many of you like Mikami, and how many of you are wigged out by him? (Or both?)

*pets Mikami* Oh, your fate is in such a precarious position right now.......

-------------------

A/N 2: -ETA- (Friday afternoon) You guys are in luck! Not only was I able to write, but the chapter will be SUPER long AND on time! XD (hOMG and things happen! like whoa.) I really think only one chapter after that. (Yeah, yeah, I know you all distrust any estimates I throw out there by now. haha.)

Also, my beta assures me that PITCH (death note) will be beta'd this weekend. PROMISES me, I might add, under threat of very unpleasant things. :D