Death Note fic
Jul. 3rd, 2008 09:56 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
tallulahgsTitle: Wondering
Rating: G
Pairings/Characters: Wedy, Soichiro Yagami. Very slight hints of Soichiro/Wedy
Word Count: 984
Author's Note: That's it, I'm never writing from Soichiro's POV. That was like pulling teeth :/ Written for and crossposted to![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
dn_contest, prompt "Wedy".
Soichiro Yagami finds it difficult to work with Wedy.
In a way, he wishes that she were unsubordinate or lazy or rude or incompetent. Then he would know how to view her. He isn't naive enough to believe that all criminals are stupid and inefficient, of course. (Kira being a prime example of one who disproves such a theory.) But Wedy, with her amused, drawling tones, her brassy hair, her sunglassed eyes and her cool professionalism, is (he'd like to believe) not from his world at all. She walks and stands and talks as if she's stepped out of a spy novel - one where cigarette smoke hangs in the light and mysterious meetings occur on train station platforms. One where women are trouble. Soichiro half-suspects her of being genuinely unreal; of being an actor whom L is paying to confuse the task force for some inscrutable reason of his own.
But Wedy can break into places with the same degree of casual efficiency that most women can put together an outfit to wear, and such skills will earn you a lot more money than the drama market.
She is always polite to them, but always with an undercurrent of amusement, as if she thinks they're taking it all too seriously. Except for L, whom she is frank with, and Raito, whom she treats a little like a younger brother. Soichiro dislikes watching her talk to Raito. Not that his son isn't a moral being, but he's young, and Wedy is beautiful.
Sometimes Soichiro wants to complain about her and Aiber's presence to L. Ask why some criminals are evidently worthy of evading their crimes. Point out that doing the wrong thing for the right reasons is the same justification Kira employs. But he knows it'll be a waste of time. They need Wedy and Aiber's skills, and L isn't interested in morality now, only in winning.
At home, Sachiko doesn't talk about her day so much, and at night she sleeps as if she's got used to stretching out in the bed. She says, once, half-sadly, half-defensively, that she's found another grey hair. Soichiro lets her continue to think that his co-workers are the same sort of reserved, mundane police officers she's met in the past, doesn't mention the blonde shapely girl in the catsuit. It still feels like he's lying.
"It bothers you, doesn't it?" Wedy says to him one day, when they find themselves alone in the kitchen, both making coffee.
"What does?" Soichiro wishes she hadn't spoken. That makes this meeting look planned. But then, why should he care if it does?
"Aiber and I being here." She pours hot water into her teacup - she does even that elegantly. "I don't imagine you were consulted."
She would, of course, be direct about it. He knows he should dislike that, but it's almost a relief. At least she isn't being insincere and expecting the same back from him.
"No," he says. "I wasn't. And yes. It does."
Wedy is, of course, unconcerned. Soichiro wonders if anything bothers her. He's heard her curse, or sigh when L asks her to do the impossible in five minutes, but nothing more than that. Everyone else on the task force has days when they're tired or hungover or grumpy or dispirited. Wedy is always the same.
Her hair glints in the lights, and he wonders, suddenly, rudely, if she dyes it. How old is she? The sunglasses hide her eyes.
She adds sugar to her drink and, as she stirs, says, "I'm not offended. You're a very moral guy."
"I try and do what's right."
"Doesn't everyone?" she says, and picks up her coffee, leans against the cupboards. "We've all got our own standards."
Soichiro has been brought up not to insult people when you're making coffee together, but he's said, "I find that difficult to believe," before he can stop himself. (Does he want her to react to him?)
"Oh? Do you not think everyone has things they won't do?" Wedy says. "A moral code, if you like... a line they won't cross."
"I suppose so, but -" He doesn't know what more he wants to say. Something about how such knowledge doesn't help when the line you won't cross is far behind the line the person you're talking to won't cross. He dislikes debating questions of justice.
"It's all right," Wedy says. "I'm not trying to change your mind. Just didn't want you to think I was a monster. I have some conscience."
Soichiro wants to ask if that's why she's helping to catch Kira. If maybe it's not just pressure from L. But then she says, "But morality's relative, after all," and he doesn't bother to ask.
He wonders after that if she understands his point of view at all, and then wonders why he cares. Wonders what she thinks of him, of working with the police. Kira can't touch her, after all. Wonders what she is to L, what he is to her. Wonders entirely too much, and knows it.
And on the last night they see each other and she offers him a gun, he wonders what it would be like to take it, to see the world from her perspective, where rules aren't walls keeping you on the right path but just mist you walk through on your way to something better.
But of course, he refuses. She'd probably see through such a pretence. And he could never live that way.
But still, afterwards, he sometimes thinks of her, wonders what she's doing.
Rating: G
Pairings/Characters: Wedy, Soichiro Yagami. Very slight hints of Soichiro/Wedy
Word Count: 984
Author's Note: That's it, I'm never writing from Soichiro's POV. That was like pulling teeth :/ Written for and crossposted to
dn_contest, prompt "Wedy".Soichiro Yagami finds it difficult to work with Wedy.
In a way, he wishes that she were unsubordinate or lazy or rude or incompetent. Then he would know how to view her. He isn't naive enough to believe that all criminals are stupid and inefficient, of course. (Kira being a prime example of one who disproves such a theory.) But Wedy, with her amused, drawling tones, her brassy hair, her sunglassed eyes and her cool professionalism, is (he'd like to believe) not from his world at all. She walks and stands and talks as if she's stepped out of a spy novel - one where cigarette smoke hangs in the light and mysterious meetings occur on train station platforms. One where women are trouble. Soichiro half-suspects her of being genuinely unreal; of being an actor whom L is paying to confuse the task force for some inscrutable reason of his own.
But Wedy can break into places with the same degree of casual efficiency that most women can put together an outfit to wear, and such skills will earn you a lot more money than the drama market.
She is always polite to them, but always with an undercurrent of amusement, as if she thinks they're taking it all too seriously. Except for L, whom she is frank with, and Raito, whom she treats a little like a younger brother. Soichiro dislikes watching her talk to Raito. Not that his son isn't a moral being, but he's young, and Wedy is beautiful.
Sometimes Soichiro wants to complain about her and Aiber's presence to L. Ask why some criminals are evidently worthy of evading their crimes. Point out that doing the wrong thing for the right reasons is the same justification Kira employs. But he knows it'll be a waste of time. They need Wedy and Aiber's skills, and L isn't interested in morality now, only in winning.
At home, Sachiko doesn't talk about her day so much, and at night she sleeps as if she's got used to stretching out in the bed. She says, once, half-sadly, half-defensively, that she's found another grey hair. Soichiro lets her continue to think that his co-workers are the same sort of reserved, mundane police officers she's met in the past, doesn't mention the blonde shapely girl in the catsuit. It still feels like he's lying.
"It bothers you, doesn't it?" Wedy says to him one day, when they find themselves alone in the kitchen, both making coffee.
"What does?" Soichiro wishes she hadn't spoken. That makes this meeting look planned. But then, why should he care if it does?
"Aiber and I being here." She pours hot water into her teacup - she does even that elegantly. "I don't imagine you were consulted."
She would, of course, be direct about it. He knows he should dislike that, but it's almost a relief. At least she isn't being insincere and expecting the same back from him.
"No," he says. "I wasn't. And yes. It does."
Wedy is, of course, unconcerned. Soichiro wonders if anything bothers her. He's heard her curse, or sigh when L asks her to do the impossible in five minutes, but nothing more than that. Everyone else on the task force has days when they're tired or hungover or grumpy or dispirited. Wedy is always the same.
Her hair glints in the lights, and he wonders, suddenly, rudely, if she dyes it. How old is she? The sunglasses hide her eyes.
She adds sugar to her drink and, as she stirs, says, "I'm not offended. You're a very moral guy."
"I try and do what's right."
"Doesn't everyone?" she says, and picks up her coffee, leans against the cupboards. "We've all got our own standards."
Soichiro has been brought up not to insult people when you're making coffee together, but he's said, "I find that difficult to believe," before he can stop himself. (Does he want her to react to him?)
"Oh? Do you not think everyone has things they won't do?" Wedy says. "A moral code, if you like... a line they won't cross."
"I suppose so, but -" He doesn't know what more he wants to say. Something about how such knowledge doesn't help when the line you won't cross is far behind the line the person you're talking to won't cross. He dislikes debating questions of justice.
"It's all right," Wedy says. "I'm not trying to change your mind. Just didn't want you to think I was a monster. I have some conscience."
Soichiro wants to ask if that's why she's helping to catch Kira. If maybe it's not just pressure from L. But then she says, "But morality's relative, after all," and he doesn't bother to ask.
He wonders after that if she understands his point of view at all, and then wonders why he cares. Wonders what she thinks of him, of working with the police. Kira can't touch her, after all. Wonders what she is to L, what he is to her. Wonders entirely too much, and knows it.
And on the last night they see each other and she offers him a gun, he wonders what it would be like to take it, to see the world from her perspective, where rules aren't walls keeping you on the right path but just mist you walk through on your way to something better.
But of course, he refuses. She'd probably see through such a pretence. And he could never live that way.
But still, afterwards, he sometimes thinks of her, wonders what she's doing.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2008-07-06 06:07 pm (UTC)Oh, and the morals = mist thing was a killer metaphor.
no subject
Date: 2008-07-07 06:46 pm (UTC)No, they didn't change, did they? Either mentally or physically ^^ I wasn't that interested in them either, but I'm glad I managed to write this.
no subject
Date: 2008-07-10 02:35 pm (UTC)