âWhether Aizawa's notebook is real or fake, don't you think it's a good idea just to take a look at it?â
Rhythm â one, two, three.
A long step forward, weight on the heel, then on the ball of the foot. Arms lifting as carrying a fragile weight, cautious cautious, there's no need to be harsh, right?
A gradual rise to the toes started at the end of the first beat and continued to the second and third beat of each bar of music. No one but the Death waltzing with him heard the click click click click; four quick pulls in between the echo of soles dancing and the drop of blood smearing the candor of a God's skin. The next beat is two, indeed, only one second long and Light had to be fast to follow the scheme of measured steps (cadence is important!) and so his trained fingers had to hold the very fragile object -so its sharp point could whisper in a soft scratching sound the name of the next dancer.
The roar of a shot broke the dance, but the music of a mocking laughter rose between the screams of agony washed with blood. Matsuda, what an idiot, tried to stop him... but it was too late! âAh ah ah ah ah...â Maniacal an perverse â there was no other word to describe the tinge of malice barking in the back of his throat. Kira had won, triumphantly holding the piece of Death Note where Near's name had been written in blood. He turned towards the boy, eyes filled with glee at the sight of fear tightening at the boys' chest, the little shoulders trembling as he collapsed in Halle's arms, unable to move or speak and waiting for Death to reap his ungrateful soul. If he hadn't have interfered with his plans, Kira would have spared his life; but both Near and Mello had chosen to follow L's path and just look where did it bring them?!
âWell done, Mikami...â Sudden thuds of bodies falling like pounding rain resonated all around him. Light saw with the glimpse of an eye Mikami staring at him with evil satisfaction, shreds of the true Death Note in one hand; as Light instructed him, he had taken advantage of the sudden disorder to write the names of all the persons in a piece of Death Note hidden in his clothes. âSo, Near...â
Light stepped towards the dying boy, eager to see him exhale his last breath and proclaim himself the winner of that tiring war. Contrary to any expectations, Near smiled. His last words sent a chill down Light's spine and the ancient ring of a warning, of something left forgotten by hubris, froze his victorious grin.
âIt's not over, Kira... You haven't killed... the true L...â
The colorful flier of the upcoming Gion Matsuri events in Kyoto was the last thing left on his desk; as an absentminded reminder for later, for those who would come back home that night. But Light wasn't about to come back so soon and he would probably miss the Gion Matsuri -not that he cared about it, but Sayu had called to ask him if he would have loved to go there with her. She was recovering, slowly, and probably would never be the cheerful girl living in Light's memories. He had apologized over and over, the mobile phone pressed between ear and shoulder why packing his things. Work was the same lame excuse, he didn't even need to please his tone in a more convincing one â Sayu could tell easily how much her dear brother had changed, that something changed him... and she couldn't tell if it was only their father's death.
Near's last words trapped Light's mind in a vortex of doubts, frustration and skepticism. Was it a bluff? But why bluffing if he was going to die anyway? Was there someone else working with him, aside from Mello, that never had come out his spot? The thought triggered Light's next months to no end â so while the God of the New World kept judging and leading his new perfect world, Kira investigated on all the persons connected to the Wammy's House and of course to Mello and Near. It was only after two months of non-stop researches and use of the Death Note to dig deeper in the sources, that he had found something. There was effectively a man called L located in a bungalow in the desolated lands of Russia. An encrypted exchange of massages between this man and Near had given Light the exact location, but nothing about the identity of the man.
As he left Japan in the dead of the night, on a flight direct to Moscow, he couldn't ignore the weird sensation tingling him since that day. The true L. What was the meaning behind Near's words? Was it... No, it couldn't be. L died six years ago and Light had seen him dying in his arms. His true name written in Rem's Death Note and the ashes of the Shinigami. But still... The true L could be only him.
As L, Light had the whole government at his mercy so it wasn't a big deal to have trained soldiers accompanying him to that place. Even though he had decided to see on his own this true L, he wasn't stupid and was perfectly prepared. The day after his arrival in Moscow he was escorted to the location, where there was effectively nothing but a bungalow surrounded by naked earth. A quite unwelcoming place where to spend your entire life, wasn't it?
Rumors said there was someone living there all alone, but no one had ever seen him in person. They called it a ghost and perhaps, Light wondered, it was just his ghost. He wasn't aware how impatient he was to know the truth when he stepped inside the building, soldiers waiting at his side with guns ready to shoot. The door had almost creaked under his touch, holding no resistance... How could it be so simple? Was it nothing but a mere abandoned place in the end?
But right there in front of him, the shadow of a figure crouched on a bed stared intensely at him. As if he was waiting that moment just like Light.
If ghosts didn't exist... That had to be a disgusting joke.
â... L?â
