On the twelfth day of Christmas
Jan. 6th, 2012 05:34 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
tallulahgsmy true love sent to me
twelve thundering triumphs
[Title] Turning a Blind Eye
[Fandom] Death Note/Doctor Who
[Rating] PG for death
[Notes/Summary] The remnants of the task force attempt to survive during the Year That Never Was.
They sleep in what used to be a school gymnasium. Hundreds of people, huddled in small groups on the grimy, blood-spattered floor, the goal lines of which have long since disappeared. At least, right now, it's not too cold. The place probably stinks to high heaven, but everyone's given up noticing.
Mogi sits in the small space they've earmarked as their own and tries to pretend it really is their own space, that the only reason he's not looking around is because there's nothing to see. There is too much to see. But he realised months ago that he had to narrow his vision. If you looked at everything and understood, it would kill you.
They were watching the broadcast like everyone else and Mogi can't remember when he realised exactly what those hovering black spheres were going to do, what they'd been ordered to do. All he remembers is that he saw Aizawa running out of the headquarters, Aizawa and Ide and he thought, calmly, of course, Aizawa will want to protect his family, of course as if he had already taken in what the situation was. Raito left, too. He said he had a plan. When Mogi and Matsuda left the headquarters later - herded into public spaces with all the other terrified people - all the dead were still just lying there, and they saw Aizawa and Ide, but there was no sign of Raito.
They didn't find Aizawa's wife then - it was later, after they'd been put to work. Mogi was already cultivating the ability not to look at anything except what he had to, but Matsuda noticed the woman and the little girl nearby and asked if they were all right. It's to Eriko Aizawa's credit that she didn't immediately seize on someone offering sympathy, didn't pour out all her pain onto someone who had no way of helping. Her older daughter, she explained, had died in the initial decimation, at her junior high school. They had to tell her about her husband, of course. She cried then, but quietly, numbly, and she hasn't shed tears since - or, at least, not when anyone can see. Which is fair enough. Mogi wonders sometimes if she resents him and Matsuda for surviving so far when her husband didn't, but he never asks. It would seem pointless to bring it up.
A lot seems pointless now.
Eriko is sitting with a blanket wrapped round her shoulders, watching Matsuda and her daughter. Mogi can admit to himself that he expected Matsuda to fall to pieces more quickly than any of them, but, bizarrely, he seems the least changed. Perhaps it's the little girl - Youko - perhaps she's giving him something to hold himself together for. At the moment, he's telling her a story. This story has gone on for weeks. At the moment, it features Martha Jones and Raito, who, having met up a fortnight ago, are having adventures on a tropical island, with sharks. Youko listens, sucking her thumb.
Raito's got a plan, Matsuda said, at some point. All we've got to do is wait.
Mogi thinks it's extremely unlikely that Raito's still alive, let alone putting anything together to help them. He wants to point out Raito ran out on them, left them to save his own skin, but that seems pointless, too. If Matsuda's keeping his sanity intact by telling stories, then what's the point of stopping him? The four of them are surviving day by day, and even if there is no longer anything they're living for, they might as well pretend.
[Title] Level Up
[Fandom] Death Note/Battle Royale
[Rating] PG
[Notes/Summary] For![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
likeatruck, who requested "Shinji attempts to unmask the mysterious Kira through the power of technology."
"Oh, I am good."
Shinji spoke to the air, but hey, it wasn't like he had anyone he could boast about this victory to. Hell, he hadn't seen another human being for the last seventy-two hours. Spending all that time in front of a computer screen, surviving on instant ramen and energy drinks, was about as nerdy as it got, but he reckoned that actually managing to hack into not only the NPA's systems but the unnameable network that had touched base with it a few times was awesome enough to cancel out the automatic dork label.
The room was dark, apart from the glow of the screen - partly because Shinji was a sucker for atmosphere as much as the next guy, partly because he had no wish to flag up to his neighbours that he was staying up all hours doing something secret. At the very least, someone might turn him in for drug dealing or attempting to download illegal anti-government pornography. It wouldn't matter if no charges stuck, because attention would've been drawn to him, and with the level bosses he was aiming for, attention really would get him killed. You couldn't know that you hadn't left some trace, and some bored official might just start putting two and two together and - he grinned - actually not making five for once.
He was thinking old thoughts because he was exhausted, because he was buzzing on so much caffeine he figured it should be illegal, but that background noise was wrapped round his mind as he skimmed through files and histories. This place was certainly related to the Kira case, even if it wasn't the system of the greatest detective in the world. But Shinji was pretty sure it had to be. Regular conspiracy nuts didn't have that level of defense to break through.
The question was, had L already found his own path to Kira?
Shinji had never been particularly impressed by detectives, not least because he suspected most of them were fictional, government-sponsored plants, solving set-up crimes to reassure the citizens that there was always another level of protection in the glorious Republic of Greater East Asia. He wasn't particularly impressed by Kira, either, who combined all the self-righteous, totalitarian ethics of the current government with a complete lack of interest in it. He'd wondered at first if that were all Kira was, a government-sponsored programme involving fast-acting poison, but then there were all the deaths overseas. And the lack of focus on those who'd committed specifically political crimes. Unless the republic were playing a deeper game than he'd thought possible, Kira was most likely acting on his own initiative.
But that didn't mean Shinji had to like him for it. Okay, so he didn't exactly mourn the loss of mob bosses and serial killers, but seeing the deaths of pickpockets, embezzlers, and celebrities caught snorting cocaine was a little much. Everyone had their vices, and hell, what if Kira decided he disliked jazz, b-ball or liking the ladies? Shinji wasn't about to risk it.
And activists and politicals had died too. If Kira couldn't understand what might push someone living here to hit back against the government, then he was either an idiot or he was choosing ego-stroking over actually making the world a better place. Shinji wasn't a big fan of hypocrites, either.
And what the hell. He was between jobs right now, and he was bored. And come on, wouldn't it be funny if he actually did beat L to the prize?
Another gulp of Coke. He turned back to the screen, and carried on hunting.
[Title] Monument
[Fandom] Jet Set Radio
[Rating] G
[Notes/Summary] Gum thinks about what it's like to save the world.
"Don't you realise?" Gum took off her helmet, shook out her hair in the cool night breeze. "Our lives have actually been changed for ever."
"Really." Slate, resting his arms on his knees, didn't look at her, but the dry tone to his voice conveyed the expression he was probably wearing.
"Yup. I mean, obviously we're gonna be rudies forever, we'll always be young, we'll never bow down to the Man and we'll never, ever yell at those dang kids to get off our lawn..."
"Obviously."
"But if we do? No matter how boring and conventional we get... no matter how many, I don't know, marriages and babies and mortgages we have... we're still gonna be able to look out at the city from our tenth-floor apartments and say, hey, you know what? When I was seventeen, I saved this place from fiery, giant-rhino-shaped destruction. On wheels. With spray paint." She stretched out her hands. "It's like the whole of Tokyo-to just became a monument to the awesome of the GGs."
"Isn't it only a monument if other people know what it is?"
"Doesn't matter. We'll always know, and we can tell our kids and stuff. I know I'm telling mine. If I actually have any. Little brats have to learn to show respect." She kicked her feet gently against the wall. "In a weird way... us as we are now? We're gonna live forever."
[Title] Game Over
[Fandom] Death Note
[Rating] PG
[Notes/Summary] Forlycoris, who provided the prompt "Mello and Raito, computer games".
L had never really thought about life after death. Even when he'd been seriously concerned that the Kira case would finish him - which, of course, it had - he'd chosen not to speculate on a heaven or hell. He'd assumed he would simply stop being.
He had not expected to find himself living in a house on an endless beach with those he'd known in life.
Even less had he suspected the provision of a games console.
(There was a chessboard, as well, and a pack of cards, and L suspected that sooner or later Raito would have to play a game with him, if only to assuage his wounded pride - but at the moment, something was holding him back.)
L sat on the verandah, eating a cupcake, and curled his toes against the sand-strewn boards, and listened to the shouting from the main room of the house.
"That was in no way a valid win!"
"Oh? What are you going to do about it, Kira?"
"I'm not going to do anything. I'm just amazed that you're so desperate to win a video game that you'd deliberately pour coffee into my lap. It suggests a deep lack of confidence in your own abilities."
"No, it just means I think outside the fucking box once in a while. Which is more than you do. Because that's why you're here, remember?"
"You've been here longer. And, if I can remind you, you thinking outside the box got you killed. After acquiring a reputation as Public Enemy Number One. Hardly an impressive summary of the achievements of L's successor."
"Fuck you. Okay? Just fuck you! And besides, if we're going to talk about that, can I remind you that my death brought you down too. Perhaps I was just thinking outside the box so much that you never saw it coming."
"That's ridiculous."
"It doesn't seem ridiculous from where I'm sitting, Kira. And where am I sitting? Oh, right. In the afterlife. With you. Because you died."
A baleful silence. L could imagine the cold glare on Raito's face.
At last: "I want a rematch."
"Fine. Whatever. Are you going to be Sonic or Shadow this time?"
L stretched out his feet and licked at the frosting on the cupcake. While he wasn't sure Mello and Raito were being very good for each other, he suspected this was a valuable exercise for them in releasing their frustration. Perhaps he would join them, were his prowess at this particular video game at all equal to theirs. Not that it mattered. He had all the time he needed to practice.
[Title] Shooting for the Moon
[Fandom] Battle Royale/Torchwood
[Rating] PG
[Notes/Summary] Shuuya elects to stand up to the government during the events of Children of Earth. Requested byanbyrobanby.
"I'd just like you to know," Yoshitoki said, shoving the chest of drawers against the door and then slumping against it, "that I think this a terrible idea."
"It's Shuuya's," Mimura called, from where he was nailing boards over the window. "Of course it's gonna be terrible."
"No, really," Yoshitoki said. "We're five teenagers against the army. The actual, real army. Shu, I know you've talked us into some wild stuff before, but this..."
Shuuya looked round, lowering his binoculars. He was pale, but he managed a grin: "Hey, Ms Ryoko said it was okay, didn't she?"
"Ms Ryoko bought into your pep talk," Mimura said. "As did everyone else."
"But not the great Shinji Mimura, right?" Shuuya said, laughing. "You're just here to watch the explosions."
"Well, yeah. That and I enjoy irritating government officials. And..." He stepped back, surveying the boards, gave one an experimental tug. "Even my conscience isn't numbed enough that it thinks letting the army take away a bunch of five-year-olds is okay. I mean, at least if we got shoved in the Program, we'd know how to fire guns."
"You think that's what this is?" Yoshitoki said. "You think they're really going to make a bunch of kids fight to the death?"
"Wouldn't surprise me, Yoshitoki my man. Wouldn't surprise me at all."
"Well, the way things are going, we'll be the ones ending up in the Program when this is all over," Yoshitoki said. "So all I can say is, these children had better grow up to invent a cure for cancer or something."
Yutaka dashed into the room, somehow avoiding tripping over anything. "Utsumi just called. She said - she said they're here. They went to - to Chigusa's house, they've taken away her sister and Utsumi said she thought they'd arrested her, too, Chigusa I mean, Sugi's freaking out and... is anyone else terrified? Seriously?"
Yoshitoki raised his hand, rolling his eyes.
"I won't pretend I'm happy about the situation," Mimura said. "But hey, stay frosty's got me through some tough times already, I figure I'll put my faith in it a little longer. Shu?"
Shuuya turned to face them.
"Right," he said. "And besides... we've got to do something. We can't just let them get away with it. Not this time."
"You mean, you couldn't," Yoshitoki said, "and the rest of us were too soft-hearted to let you go it alone."
"Exactly," said Mimura, nodding. "But hey - with the four of us on your side, Shu, what chance does the army stand?"
"I don't think you even need to ask that question." Shuuya grinned. "Okay, guys - battle stations. Or something. This is going to be our biggest win yet."
[Title] Lifestyle Changes
[Fandom] Death Note
[Rating] G
[Notes/Summary] Quillsh Wammy looks back on his achievements. Prompted bylycoris.
Quillsh Wammy knows that he has achieved a lot in his long life. Many people have asked him what he thinks is his greatest success.
"Three strawberry-shaped sweets, a thirty-centimetre length of apple-flavoured bootlace, a bag of crystallised pineapple, a cherry cake, and a glass of Ribena."
Some might have thought it would be the inventions; the patents; the revolutionary advances in technology, or the dozens of labour-saving devices that can be traced back to him.
"A scone containing raisins, a toffee apple, a bowl of raspberry ice cream, a cake in the shape of a banana, and a glass of cherryade."
Some might have suspected it would be raising the world's greatest detective, assisting him in bringing hundreds of criminals to justice and assuring that his legacy would continue.
"A thirty-seven-centimetre length of strawberry bootlace, a Cadbury's Fruit and Nut chocolate bar, a box of lemon-flavoured Turkish Delight, a toffee pear, and a glass of Cherry Coca-Cola."
But there was something he was prouder of than any of these things.
L sighs. "I consumed a bowl of raw carrots which I dipped in honey, sliced grapes and strawberries when I was drinking from the chocolate fountain, a portion of glace raisins, and a slice of banana bread."
"Banana bread?"
"It's full of bananas, Watari. I am sure that it counts as at least one portion of fruit and vegetables."
Watari smiles. It's an uphill struggle, but his efforts to encourage L to eat healthily are having an effect.
[Title] Start the Fire
[Fandom] Death Note/Torchwood
[Rating] PG
[Notes/Summary] Mello and Owen band together to stop an alien menace. Requested bylycoris.
Night has fallen, but the desert is far from silent.
"I thought you said you ran the Mafia."
"I do run the Mafia."
"Then why are we still waiting for you to set the explosives when the swarm will be back at their nest any second?"
"Listen, Doctor No-Fucking-Clue-What-He's-Doing, when you're getting swallowed keys out of small children or colonically irrigating the Cardiff jet set, do the nurses all sit round you and bitch about how you should be doing it faster? No! They respect the complexity of the procedure. Like you should be doing here."
"Yeah, well, I'm thinking you'd be getting it done faster if you weren't still holding that chocolate."
"And I'm thinking if I hadn't bothered to help you, you'd be dead from thirst, exhaustion, giant locusts biting off your head or just sheer idiocy. Never look a gift horse in the arse, just remember that."
A pause. On the night air, a faint humming sound.
"I thought the Mafia were meant to be superficially charming."
"You're past the superficial level with me. Aren't you lucky. Besides, aren't doctors meant to learn how to communicate? You know, avoiding insulting people's dress sense and - ha, there we are - telling them you don't care about their rash?"
"You're not a patient. Are we finished now?"
"Yep. Just got to... hey, listen."
The humming is louder. It jars the teeth.
"Oh, god. This is all your fault!"
"Stop whining and give me the pliers!"
"You've got the bloody pliers!"
"I fucking well have not - okay, fine, there, we're done, now let's get out of here!"
As the giant black shapes descend on the rock, a massive explosion rips them apart, and two small figures charge across the packed sand. When the blaze has died down and charred locust parts are no longer falling on their heads, they stop, and look back. Mello grins. "Cool."
"Can I go home now?" says Owen.
[Title] Insert Name Here
[Fandom] Battle Royale/Portal
[Rating] G
[Notes/Summary] Kazuo battles the Aperture Science test chambers. Based off the first Portal game only. Requested byanbyrobanby.
There are a number of things about the Aperture Science Enrichment Centre that Kazuo finds interesting. At the most basic level, of course, there are the puzzles. The combination of mental and physical agility, plus the ever-present threat of death and the ability to warp physical space, are proving - not challenging, he cannot remember the last time something has been challenging, but not entirely pointless. Were only one of the above factors present, he would have grown bored.
He would have grown bored anyway if the last test had not tried, very unsubtly, to burn him alive.
And now he is wandering through an empty, silent research facility, past flooded hallways and rusted grills and empty offices, and, right now, he is not bored at all.
"Are you happy now?" the computerised voice buzzed from above him, just beyond a flickering light. "Do you know how much trouble you're causing? And when I say trouble, I mean trouble for you. I don't care what you do. I've got far more important things to think about. I simply want to make sure that you don't do anything that you end up regretting later."
Kazuo can see the routes through the facility, up red-lit stairways, across shattered walkways, past huge steel pistons slamming into concrete, under giant red-hot pipes. He is already starting to suspect that there's little more to it than that. He doesn't find exploration on its own particularly interesting. He wonders who controls the centre, whether there are other people making the same journey as him. He wonders how much leeway the system gives you over the obstacles, who is on the other side of the cameras, whether they've beaten their own tests. Knowledge of the rooms would help, of course, but would they have the speed? And, of course, would they panic?
"You don't even care, do you? You haven't cared about anything, not since you were very small. It says so right here, in your file. Incapable of caring for anything. That's why your father hates you, you know. Not that you'd care about that, either. It's funny, isn't it?"
Kazuo didn't expect the faint twitch behind his eye at the words. Yes, there is another aspect to this. Whoever is on the other side of the cameras is not doing this for scientific purposes. They want... something. Whether it's to see him dead, or to track them down, he isn't sure. He isn't always able to gauge what it is other people want. It never seems to matter very much.
No, he is not bored yet. There are aspects of this he hasn't worked out. And then, as the voice said, there is a scientific interest to all of this. Even if there are no subjects left, he would like to see if there are tapes, or records. He would like to see how people who are not him fared at this, even though he suspects the results would be disappointing. But most things are, once you encounter them. Winning certainly is.
He carries on walking, past closed office doors.
[Title] Manipulations
[Fandom] Death Note
[Rating] G
[Notes/Summary] Genderswitch; Light knows how to get what she wants from people.
Light had not expected the Second Kira to be female too. It's a stupid error to make, and she's angry with herself for it. But a little anger - a little irritation, at any rate - isn't necessarily a bad thing to communicate to Misa. The last thing she wants is to give the impression she cares about the other girl's opinion, or wants her friendship. She cannot let this turn into a fake-smile sniping contest. Misa looks like the sort of girl to whom admiration of clothes and hair actually matters. At the very least, she'd waste time making two-faced remarks about Light's neat room, the lack of pink fluffy decoration or pictures of boys, about her neat hair, her knee-length skirt, her soft, muted sweater. Of course if she did, Light would very quickly shoot her down - does she always dress in black lace or is her get-up an attempt to suck up to Kira? Does she really think that death is just about fashion?
Well, Misa has killed several people by now. One would hope she has some idea of what all this is about. One would hope she knows what's at stake.
"I was surprised when I saw Kira is a girl just like Misa. I guess I hoped you'd be a cute guy." She giggles, puts her head on one side. Sometimes Light enjoys it that people think a woman could never be Kira, that no one dreams the quiet, polite girl sitting in lectures or walking home is the one judging the world. Other times, it makes her want to kick something. Right now, Misa is very much provoking the latter emotion.
"It's better that we're both girls," she says. "We're less likely to be suspected. But that doesn't mean we can make any mistakes. Do you understand?"
Misa rolls her eyes a little, like Light is being too serious. Light gets to her feet, walks over to her, keeping eye contact.
"This isn't a game," she says. "I'm not looking for friends, Misa. I'm looking for people who can help me. Are you here to do that or not?"
Misa stares up at her, swallows slightly.
"Of course Misa is going to help Kira," she says. "But I never thought Kira would be someone just like me."
That. That's what sets Light's teeth on edge, the assumption that people really do see her as someone as silly and irrational as this girl, someone entirely obsessed with being pretty. Someone acting entirely through emotion.
"I'm not like you," she has said, fiercely, before she can think.
Misa goes pale, and her lip trembles. Light grits her teeth. Why couldn't the other notebook have fallen into the hands of someone halfway qualified to use it?
"I don't understand," Misa is saying now, her voice shaking. "I tried to help you. I was worried Kira might think a girl like me couldn't be useful, but... you should know I can be. Why won't you believe me? I have to help you."
"Why?" Light says.
As Misa spills out the story of her parents' death, Light sits and watches her and realises. Just because this girl knows she's Kira doesn't mean that she can completely abandon her masks. It just means selecting the right one.
And so she softens her expression, looks saddened, puts a hand on Misa's arm and says how awful it sounds. And later, she says, "Perhaps we can be friends," as if she really means it. Misa's face melts into relief, and Light smiles inside. Friendship was the way to go after all.
"Are you going to turn your back while I get undressed?" Light said on their first night together. L considered her, head on one side, finger to mouth.
"Do you want me to?" he said at last. With any other man, that would have sounded like a self-consciously subtle come-on, but Light knew that L didn't do self-consciously subtle. If he wanted to convey something, he went for the jaw-droppingly direct approach. Subtlety was when he wanted to keep things to himself.
Even then, even having forgotten that they were enemies and why, she thought that L wasn't interested in her in that way. His focus was entirely on what was going on inside her head. Certainly, when she did shrug and say, "I really don't think I can afford to care, to be honest," and start unbuttoning her blouse, his gaze stayed on her face.
Now, when she knows everything and they're both soaked to the skin from standing out in the rain, she wonders again if he even notices her clothes are plastered to her body. Before, when she'd forgotten she wanted him dead, she'd just been grateful that at least she wasn't handcuffed twenty-four-seven to a man who was neither an idiot nor determined to make her fall in love with him. L was often blunt, or puzzling, or infuriating, but he behaved to her exactly as he would have done if she'd been male. Down to and including kicking her in the face after she hit him. Her father had been incandescent with rage, and she'd had to work extremely hard to prevent him sending her home right away, suspicions of being Kira be damned.
But now...
But now L kneels and his damp fingers touch her bare feet.
Don't, she nearly says. We've come this far, Ryuzaki... don't fall at this hurdle.
And then she nearly reaches out to him, strokes his face, tilts it towards hers. Why not have another strand to the web? He's clearly fascinated with her. He might become involved with her if only to see what she does, how she behaves.
And then he looks up at her, through rat-tailed strands of hair, and in his dark eyes she sees no curiosity, no pleading... just resignation. And, perhaps, pity. He knows what she's thinking. He knows that things are approaching the end, too.
Few people are going to treat her as he has.
She sighs, and lets him massage her feet. Cool drops from his hair speckle them. No. They have what they have. And her triumph is imminent. She has no need to change things, now.
Light never liked Takada very much. The other woman was like a flawed mirror - Takada was everything that Light was on the outside, but she had nothing inside to back it up with. Sometimes Light really did think that if you pushed her over, she would just shatter like china.
And Takada had always been so crude about competition. She said how much she enjoyed the company of intelligent people, how tiresome she found women who could only talk about hair and clothes, but Light saw how her mouth tightened when someone else achieved better grades than her. Oh, it wasn't the competitive urge itself - it was how obvious Takada made it. No one would be able to criticise Light as a bad loser, or bitchy, or bitter. Light accepted defeat graciously - she simply just wasn't ever defeated. Takada knew that, too.
So Light knows it will be difficult getting the woman back onto her side. Takada mustn't feel she's being done a favour, or that Light is transparently seeking to advance herself. Nor must she feel that she's being manipulated into anything. It will require careful handling, but Light knows she is good at that.
The lights of the Tokyo Tower blaze through the hotel window. Takada sits at the desk, feet together, looking up enquiringly as the door opens. Light makes herself bite her lip, hover at the doorway like she's nervous.
"Takada-san," she says. "You... you don't look any different from when we were at university."
She sees Takada brighten a little, sit up straighter, and in her head she smiles.
"Oh... I'm sorry," she carries on. "I know you must be very busy. I don't want to waste your time. It's just... I really need your help."
Standing in the darkened room with the lights blazing through the window, feeling the eyes of the task force on her, she gives just one more in a stream of brilliant performances. She talks of how many mistakes she's made, how ashamed she is that she had to miss a year of university. How concerned she is that she's on the wrong path, how both she and the police want to make amends for their failures. How fondly she remembers their talks about Kira. How she knows that she needs Takada's help.
Takada smiles pityingly, and gently hugs her, tells her that everything will be all right. Light smiles in the darkness. The crawling words didn't even stick in her throat, because she knows she's won, again.
[Title] On the Record
[Fandom] Death Note
[Rating] PG for death and cursing
[Notes/Summary] Dialogue between two OCs, overheard in Kira's new world.
"Please! Please, I'm sorry! Just - look, I'll give you - you want money? Or, or something else, seriously, whatever I need to do to write this off -"
"I don't want your money, okay? All I want is for you to keep quiet and let me fill in the paperwork."
"Why the hell are you bothering? You know I'll be dead by the end of the week!"
A sigh. "It's not my problem. Maybe you shouldn't have done it."
"It was a joke, okay? It was a dare, everyone else was doing it! I didn't think the police were gonna - I thought you'd have bigger things to worry about! Seriously, just - I can - whatever you want, whatever you fucking want -"
"Just give it a goddamn rest. Look... you know Kira's lot pull in all the CCTV footage. It doesn't matter what I do now."
The scratch of pen on paper. Shaky breathing.
"I don't want to die."
"Is there any point me asking you for a name?"
"I don't want to fucking die, all right? I didn't do shit! You think this is right? There's real bastards getting away with real shit and you're going through the fucking motions for this? Doesn't it ever bother you? You ever think, you pull in some pickpocket or junkie and you're signing their death warrant? You cops are the real murderers here, just fucking look at yourself!"
"I'm just doing my job. I'm nothing to do with Kira. Like I said, maybe you should've stayed in tonight." Terse, the words bitten off.
Quiet sobbing.
Later, a scream, a choking gasp, and then silence.
twelve thundering triumphs
[Title] Turning a Blind Eye
[Fandom] Death Note/Doctor Who
[Rating] PG for death
[Notes/Summary] The remnants of the task force attempt to survive during the Year That Never Was.
They sleep in what used to be a school gymnasium. Hundreds of people, huddled in small groups on the grimy, blood-spattered floor, the goal lines of which have long since disappeared. At least, right now, it's not too cold. The place probably stinks to high heaven, but everyone's given up noticing.
Mogi sits in the small space they've earmarked as their own and tries to pretend it really is their own space, that the only reason he's not looking around is because there's nothing to see. There is too much to see. But he realised months ago that he had to narrow his vision. If you looked at everything and understood, it would kill you.
They were watching the broadcast like everyone else and Mogi can't remember when he realised exactly what those hovering black spheres were going to do, what they'd been ordered to do. All he remembers is that he saw Aizawa running out of the headquarters, Aizawa and Ide and he thought, calmly, of course, Aizawa will want to protect his family, of course as if he had already taken in what the situation was. Raito left, too. He said he had a plan. When Mogi and Matsuda left the headquarters later - herded into public spaces with all the other terrified people - all the dead were still just lying there, and they saw Aizawa and Ide, but there was no sign of Raito.
They didn't find Aizawa's wife then - it was later, after they'd been put to work. Mogi was already cultivating the ability not to look at anything except what he had to, but Matsuda noticed the woman and the little girl nearby and asked if they were all right. It's to Eriko Aizawa's credit that she didn't immediately seize on someone offering sympathy, didn't pour out all her pain onto someone who had no way of helping. Her older daughter, she explained, had died in the initial decimation, at her junior high school. They had to tell her about her husband, of course. She cried then, but quietly, numbly, and she hasn't shed tears since - or, at least, not when anyone can see. Which is fair enough. Mogi wonders sometimes if she resents him and Matsuda for surviving so far when her husband didn't, but he never asks. It would seem pointless to bring it up.
A lot seems pointless now.
Eriko is sitting with a blanket wrapped round her shoulders, watching Matsuda and her daughter. Mogi can admit to himself that he expected Matsuda to fall to pieces more quickly than any of them, but, bizarrely, he seems the least changed. Perhaps it's the little girl - Youko - perhaps she's giving him something to hold himself together for. At the moment, he's telling her a story. This story has gone on for weeks. At the moment, it features Martha Jones and Raito, who, having met up a fortnight ago, are having adventures on a tropical island, with sharks. Youko listens, sucking her thumb.
Raito's got a plan, Matsuda said, at some point. All we've got to do is wait.
Mogi thinks it's extremely unlikely that Raito's still alive, let alone putting anything together to help them. He wants to point out Raito ran out on them, left them to save his own skin, but that seems pointless, too. If Matsuda's keeping his sanity intact by telling stories, then what's the point of stopping him? The four of them are surviving day by day, and even if there is no longer anything they're living for, they might as well pretend.
[Title] Level Up
[Fandom] Death Note/Battle Royale
[Rating] PG
[Notes/Summary] For
likeatruck, who requested "Shinji attempts to unmask the mysterious Kira through the power of technology.""Oh, I am good."
Shinji spoke to the air, but hey, it wasn't like he had anyone he could boast about this victory to. Hell, he hadn't seen another human being for the last seventy-two hours. Spending all that time in front of a computer screen, surviving on instant ramen and energy drinks, was about as nerdy as it got, but he reckoned that actually managing to hack into not only the NPA's systems but the unnameable network that had touched base with it a few times was awesome enough to cancel out the automatic dork label.
The room was dark, apart from the glow of the screen - partly because Shinji was a sucker for atmosphere as much as the next guy, partly because he had no wish to flag up to his neighbours that he was staying up all hours doing something secret. At the very least, someone might turn him in for drug dealing or attempting to download illegal anti-government pornography. It wouldn't matter if no charges stuck, because attention would've been drawn to him, and with the level bosses he was aiming for, attention really would get him killed. You couldn't know that you hadn't left some trace, and some bored official might just start putting two and two together and - he grinned - actually not making five for once.
He was thinking old thoughts because he was exhausted, because he was buzzing on so much caffeine he figured it should be illegal, but that background noise was wrapped round his mind as he skimmed through files and histories. This place was certainly related to the Kira case, even if it wasn't the system of the greatest detective in the world. But Shinji was pretty sure it had to be. Regular conspiracy nuts didn't have that level of defense to break through.
The question was, had L already found his own path to Kira?
Shinji had never been particularly impressed by detectives, not least because he suspected most of them were fictional, government-sponsored plants, solving set-up crimes to reassure the citizens that there was always another level of protection in the glorious Republic of Greater East Asia. He wasn't particularly impressed by Kira, either, who combined all the self-righteous, totalitarian ethics of the current government with a complete lack of interest in it. He'd wondered at first if that were all Kira was, a government-sponsored programme involving fast-acting poison, but then there were all the deaths overseas. And the lack of focus on those who'd committed specifically political crimes. Unless the republic were playing a deeper game than he'd thought possible, Kira was most likely acting on his own initiative.
But that didn't mean Shinji had to like him for it. Okay, so he didn't exactly mourn the loss of mob bosses and serial killers, but seeing the deaths of pickpockets, embezzlers, and celebrities caught snorting cocaine was a little much. Everyone had their vices, and hell, what if Kira decided he disliked jazz, b-ball or liking the ladies? Shinji wasn't about to risk it.
And activists and politicals had died too. If Kira couldn't understand what might push someone living here to hit back against the government, then he was either an idiot or he was choosing ego-stroking over actually making the world a better place. Shinji wasn't a big fan of hypocrites, either.
And what the hell. He was between jobs right now, and he was bored. And come on, wouldn't it be funny if he actually did beat L to the prize?
Another gulp of Coke. He turned back to the screen, and carried on hunting.
[Title] Monument
[Fandom] Jet Set Radio
[Rating] G
[Notes/Summary] Gum thinks about what it's like to save the world.
"Don't you realise?" Gum took off her helmet, shook out her hair in the cool night breeze. "Our lives have actually been changed for ever."
"Really." Slate, resting his arms on his knees, didn't look at her, but the dry tone to his voice conveyed the expression he was probably wearing.
"Yup. I mean, obviously we're gonna be rudies forever, we'll always be young, we'll never bow down to the Man and we'll never, ever yell at those dang kids to get off our lawn..."
"Obviously."
"But if we do? No matter how boring and conventional we get... no matter how many, I don't know, marriages and babies and mortgages we have... we're still gonna be able to look out at the city from our tenth-floor apartments and say, hey, you know what? When I was seventeen, I saved this place from fiery, giant-rhino-shaped destruction. On wheels. With spray paint." She stretched out her hands. "It's like the whole of Tokyo-to just became a monument to the awesome of the GGs."
"Isn't it only a monument if other people know what it is?"
"Doesn't matter. We'll always know, and we can tell our kids and stuff. I know I'm telling mine. If I actually have any. Little brats have to learn to show respect." She kicked her feet gently against the wall. "In a weird way... us as we are now? We're gonna live forever."
[Title] Game Over
[Fandom] Death Note
[Rating] PG
[Notes/Summary] For
lycoris, who provided the prompt "Mello and Raito, computer games".L had never really thought about life after death. Even when he'd been seriously concerned that the Kira case would finish him - which, of course, it had - he'd chosen not to speculate on a heaven or hell. He'd assumed he would simply stop being.
He had not expected to find himself living in a house on an endless beach with those he'd known in life.
Even less had he suspected the provision of a games console.
(There was a chessboard, as well, and a pack of cards, and L suspected that sooner or later Raito would have to play a game with him, if only to assuage his wounded pride - but at the moment, something was holding him back.)
L sat on the verandah, eating a cupcake, and curled his toes against the sand-strewn boards, and listened to the shouting from the main room of the house.
"That was in no way a valid win!"
"Oh? What are you going to do about it, Kira?"
"I'm not going to do anything. I'm just amazed that you're so desperate to win a video game that you'd deliberately pour coffee into my lap. It suggests a deep lack of confidence in your own abilities."
"No, it just means I think outside the fucking box once in a while. Which is more than you do. Because that's why you're here, remember?"
"You've been here longer. And, if I can remind you, you thinking outside the box got you killed. After acquiring a reputation as Public Enemy Number One. Hardly an impressive summary of the achievements of L's successor."
"Fuck you. Okay? Just fuck you! And besides, if we're going to talk about that, can I remind you that my death brought you down too. Perhaps I was just thinking outside the box so much that you never saw it coming."
"That's ridiculous."
"It doesn't seem ridiculous from where I'm sitting, Kira. And where am I sitting? Oh, right. In the afterlife. With you. Because you died."
A baleful silence. L could imagine the cold glare on Raito's face.
At last: "I want a rematch."
"Fine. Whatever. Are you going to be Sonic or Shadow this time?"
L stretched out his feet and licked at the frosting on the cupcake. While he wasn't sure Mello and Raito were being very good for each other, he suspected this was a valuable exercise for them in releasing their frustration. Perhaps he would join them, were his prowess at this particular video game at all equal to theirs. Not that it mattered. He had all the time he needed to practice.
[Title] Shooting for the Moon
[Fandom] Battle Royale/Torchwood
[Rating] PG
[Notes/Summary] Shuuya elects to stand up to the government during the events of Children of Earth. Requested by
anbyrobanby."I'd just like you to know," Yoshitoki said, shoving the chest of drawers against the door and then slumping against it, "that I think this a terrible idea."
"It's Shuuya's," Mimura called, from where he was nailing boards over the window. "Of course it's gonna be terrible."
"No, really," Yoshitoki said. "We're five teenagers against the army. The actual, real army. Shu, I know you've talked us into some wild stuff before, but this..."
Shuuya looked round, lowering his binoculars. He was pale, but he managed a grin: "Hey, Ms Ryoko said it was okay, didn't she?"
"Ms Ryoko bought into your pep talk," Mimura said. "As did everyone else."
"But not the great Shinji Mimura, right?" Shuuya said, laughing. "You're just here to watch the explosions."
"Well, yeah. That and I enjoy irritating government officials. And..." He stepped back, surveying the boards, gave one an experimental tug. "Even my conscience isn't numbed enough that it thinks letting the army take away a bunch of five-year-olds is okay. I mean, at least if we got shoved in the Program, we'd know how to fire guns."
"You think that's what this is?" Yoshitoki said. "You think they're really going to make a bunch of kids fight to the death?"
"Wouldn't surprise me, Yoshitoki my man. Wouldn't surprise me at all."
"Well, the way things are going, we'll be the ones ending up in the Program when this is all over," Yoshitoki said. "So all I can say is, these children had better grow up to invent a cure for cancer or something."
Yutaka dashed into the room, somehow avoiding tripping over anything. "Utsumi just called. She said - she said they're here. They went to - to Chigusa's house, they've taken away her sister and Utsumi said she thought they'd arrested her, too, Chigusa I mean, Sugi's freaking out and... is anyone else terrified? Seriously?"
Yoshitoki raised his hand, rolling his eyes.
"I won't pretend I'm happy about the situation," Mimura said. "But hey, stay frosty's got me through some tough times already, I figure I'll put my faith in it a little longer. Shu?"
Shuuya turned to face them.
"Right," he said. "And besides... we've got to do something. We can't just let them get away with it. Not this time."
"You mean, you couldn't," Yoshitoki said, "and the rest of us were too soft-hearted to let you go it alone."
"Exactly," said Mimura, nodding. "But hey - with the four of us on your side, Shu, what chance does the army stand?"
"I don't think you even need to ask that question." Shuuya grinned. "Okay, guys - battle stations. Or something. This is going to be our biggest win yet."
[Title] Lifestyle Changes
[Fandom] Death Note
[Rating] G
[Notes/Summary] Quillsh Wammy looks back on his achievements. Prompted by
lycoris.Quillsh Wammy knows that he has achieved a lot in his long life. Many people have asked him what he thinks is his greatest success.
"Three strawberry-shaped sweets, a thirty-centimetre length of apple-flavoured bootlace, a bag of crystallised pineapple, a cherry cake, and a glass of Ribena."
Some might have thought it would be the inventions; the patents; the revolutionary advances in technology, or the dozens of labour-saving devices that can be traced back to him.
"A scone containing raisins, a toffee apple, a bowl of raspberry ice cream, a cake in the shape of a banana, and a glass of cherryade."
Some might have suspected it would be raising the world's greatest detective, assisting him in bringing hundreds of criminals to justice and assuring that his legacy would continue.
"A thirty-seven-centimetre length of strawberry bootlace, a Cadbury's Fruit and Nut chocolate bar, a box of lemon-flavoured Turkish Delight, a toffee pear, and a glass of Cherry Coca-Cola."
But there was something he was prouder of than any of these things.
L sighs. "I consumed a bowl of raw carrots which I dipped in honey, sliced grapes and strawberries when I was drinking from the chocolate fountain, a portion of glace raisins, and a slice of banana bread."
"Banana bread?"
"It's full of bananas, Watari. I am sure that it counts as at least one portion of fruit and vegetables."
Watari smiles. It's an uphill struggle, but his efforts to encourage L to eat healthily are having an effect.
[Title] Start the Fire
[Fandom] Death Note/Torchwood
[Rating] PG
[Notes/Summary] Mello and Owen band together to stop an alien menace. Requested by
lycoris.Night has fallen, but the desert is far from silent.
"I thought you said you ran the Mafia."
"I do run the Mafia."
"Then why are we still waiting for you to set the explosives when the swarm will be back at their nest any second?"
"Listen, Doctor No-Fucking-Clue-What-He's-Doing, when you're getting swallowed keys out of small children or colonically irrigating the Cardiff jet set, do the nurses all sit round you and bitch about how you should be doing it faster? No! They respect the complexity of the procedure. Like you should be doing here."
"Yeah, well, I'm thinking you'd be getting it done faster if you weren't still holding that chocolate."
"And I'm thinking if I hadn't bothered to help you, you'd be dead from thirst, exhaustion, giant locusts biting off your head or just sheer idiocy. Never look a gift horse in the arse, just remember that."
A pause. On the night air, a faint humming sound.
"I thought the Mafia were meant to be superficially charming."
"You're past the superficial level with me. Aren't you lucky. Besides, aren't doctors meant to learn how to communicate? You know, avoiding insulting people's dress sense and - ha, there we are - telling them you don't care about their rash?"
"You're not a patient. Are we finished now?"
"Yep. Just got to... hey, listen."
The humming is louder. It jars the teeth.
"Oh, god. This is all your fault!"
"Stop whining and give me the pliers!"
"You've got the bloody pliers!"
"I fucking well have not - okay, fine, there, we're done, now let's get out of here!"
As the giant black shapes descend on the rock, a massive explosion rips them apart, and two small figures charge across the packed sand. When the blaze has died down and charred locust parts are no longer falling on their heads, they stop, and look back. Mello grins. "Cool."
"Can I go home now?" says Owen.
[Title] Insert Name Here
[Fandom] Battle Royale/Portal
[Rating] G
[Notes/Summary] Kazuo battles the Aperture Science test chambers. Based off the first Portal game only. Requested by
anbyrobanby.There are a number of things about the Aperture Science Enrichment Centre that Kazuo finds interesting. At the most basic level, of course, there are the puzzles. The combination of mental and physical agility, plus the ever-present threat of death and the ability to warp physical space, are proving - not challenging, he cannot remember the last time something has been challenging, but not entirely pointless. Were only one of the above factors present, he would have grown bored.
He would have grown bored anyway if the last test had not tried, very unsubtly, to burn him alive.
And now he is wandering through an empty, silent research facility, past flooded hallways and rusted grills and empty offices, and, right now, he is not bored at all.
"Are you happy now?" the computerised voice buzzed from above him, just beyond a flickering light. "Do you know how much trouble you're causing? And when I say trouble, I mean trouble for you. I don't care what you do. I've got far more important things to think about. I simply want to make sure that you don't do anything that you end up regretting later."
Kazuo can see the routes through the facility, up red-lit stairways, across shattered walkways, past huge steel pistons slamming into concrete, under giant red-hot pipes. He is already starting to suspect that there's little more to it than that. He doesn't find exploration on its own particularly interesting. He wonders who controls the centre, whether there are other people making the same journey as him. He wonders how much leeway the system gives you over the obstacles, who is on the other side of the cameras, whether they've beaten their own tests. Knowledge of the rooms would help, of course, but would they have the speed? And, of course, would they panic?
"You don't even care, do you? You haven't cared about anything, not since you were very small. It says so right here, in your file. Incapable of caring for anything. That's why your father hates you, you know. Not that you'd care about that, either. It's funny, isn't it?"
Kazuo didn't expect the faint twitch behind his eye at the words. Yes, there is another aspect to this. Whoever is on the other side of the cameras is not doing this for scientific purposes. They want... something. Whether it's to see him dead, or to track them down, he isn't sure. He isn't always able to gauge what it is other people want. It never seems to matter very much.
No, he is not bored yet. There are aspects of this he hasn't worked out. And then, as the voice said, there is a scientific interest to all of this. Even if there are no subjects left, he would like to see if there are tapes, or records. He would like to see how people who are not him fared at this, even though he suspects the results would be disappointing. But most things are, once you encounter them. Winning certainly is.
He carries on walking, past closed office doors.
[Title] Manipulations
[Fandom] Death Note
[Rating] G
[Notes/Summary] Genderswitch; Light knows how to get what she wants from people.
Light had not expected the Second Kira to be female too. It's a stupid error to make, and she's angry with herself for it. But a little anger - a little irritation, at any rate - isn't necessarily a bad thing to communicate to Misa. The last thing she wants is to give the impression she cares about the other girl's opinion, or wants her friendship. She cannot let this turn into a fake-smile sniping contest. Misa looks like the sort of girl to whom admiration of clothes and hair actually matters. At the very least, she'd waste time making two-faced remarks about Light's neat room, the lack of pink fluffy decoration or pictures of boys, about her neat hair, her knee-length skirt, her soft, muted sweater. Of course if she did, Light would very quickly shoot her down - does she always dress in black lace or is her get-up an attempt to suck up to Kira? Does she really think that death is just about fashion?
Well, Misa has killed several people by now. One would hope she has some idea of what all this is about. One would hope she knows what's at stake.
"I was surprised when I saw Kira is a girl just like Misa. I guess I hoped you'd be a cute guy." She giggles, puts her head on one side. Sometimes Light enjoys it that people think a woman could never be Kira, that no one dreams the quiet, polite girl sitting in lectures or walking home is the one judging the world. Other times, it makes her want to kick something. Right now, Misa is very much provoking the latter emotion.
"It's better that we're both girls," she says. "We're less likely to be suspected. But that doesn't mean we can make any mistakes. Do you understand?"
Misa rolls her eyes a little, like Light is being too serious. Light gets to her feet, walks over to her, keeping eye contact.
"This isn't a game," she says. "I'm not looking for friends, Misa. I'm looking for people who can help me. Are you here to do that or not?"
Misa stares up at her, swallows slightly.
"Of course Misa is going to help Kira," she says. "But I never thought Kira would be someone just like me."
That. That's what sets Light's teeth on edge, the assumption that people really do see her as someone as silly and irrational as this girl, someone entirely obsessed with being pretty. Someone acting entirely through emotion.
"I'm not like you," she has said, fiercely, before she can think.
Misa goes pale, and her lip trembles. Light grits her teeth. Why couldn't the other notebook have fallen into the hands of someone halfway qualified to use it?
"I don't understand," Misa is saying now, her voice shaking. "I tried to help you. I was worried Kira might think a girl like me couldn't be useful, but... you should know I can be. Why won't you believe me? I have to help you."
"Why?" Light says.
As Misa spills out the story of her parents' death, Light sits and watches her and realises. Just because this girl knows she's Kira doesn't mean that she can completely abandon her masks. It just means selecting the right one.
And so she softens her expression, looks saddened, puts a hand on Misa's arm and says how awful it sounds. And later, she says, "Perhaps we can be friends," as if she really means it. Misa's face melts into relief, and Light smiles inside. Friendship was the way to go after all.
"Are you going to turn your back while I get undressed?" Light said on their first night together. L considered her, head on one side, finger to mouth.
"Do you want me to?" he said at last. With any other man, that would have sounded like a self-consciously subtle come-on, but Light knew that L didn't do self-consciously subtle. If he wanted to convey something, he went for the jaw-droppingly direct approach. Subtlety was when he wanted to keep things to himself.
Even then, even having forgotten that they were enemies and why, she thought that L wasn't interested in her in that way. His focus was entirely on what was going on inside her head. Certainly, when she did shrug and say, "I really don't think I can afford to care, to be honest," and start unbuttoning her blouse, his gaze stayed on her face.
Now, when she knows everything and they're both soaked to the skin from standing out in the rain, she wonders again if he even notices her clothes are plastered to her body. Before, when she'd forgotten she wanted him dead, she'd just been grateful that at least she wasn't handcuffed twenty-four-seven to a man who was neither an idiot nor determined to make her fall in love with him. L was often blunt, or puzzling, or infuriating, but he behaved to her exactly as he would have done if she'd been male. Down to and including kicking her in the face after she hit him. Her father had been incandescent with rage, and she'd had to work extremely hard to prevent him sending her home right away, suspicions of being Kira be damned.
But now...
But now L kneels and his damp fingers touch her bare feet.
Don't, she nearly says. We've come this far, Ryuzaki... don't fall at this hurdle.
And then she nearly reaches out to him, strokes his face, tilts it towards hers. Why not have another strand to the web? He's clearly fascinated with her. He might become involved with her if only to see what she does, how she behaves.
And then he looks up at her, through rat-tailed strands of hair, and in his dark eyes she sees no curiosity, no pleading... just resignation. And, perhaps, pity. He knows what she's thinking. He knows that things are approaching the end, too.
Few people are going to treat her as he has.
She sighs, and lets him massage her feet. Cool drops from his hair speckle them. No. They have what they have. And her triumph is imminent. She has no need to change things, now.
Light never liked Takada very much. The other woman was like a flawed mirror - Takada was everything that Light was on the outside, but she had nothing inside to back it up with. Sometimes Light really did think that if you pushed her over, she would just shatter like china.
And Takada had always been so crude about competition. She said how much she enjoyed the company of intelligent people, how tiresome she found women who could only talk about hair and clothes, but Light saw how her mouth tightened when someone else achieved better grades than her. Oh, it wasn't the competitive urge itself - it was how obvious Takada made it. No one would be able to criticise Light as a bad loser, or bitchy, or bitter. Light accepted defeat graciously - she simply just wasn't ever defeated. Takada knew that, too.
So Light knows it will be difficult getting the woman back onto her side. Takada mustn't feel she's being done a favour, or that Light is transparently seeking to advance herself. Nor must she feel that she's being manipulated into anything. It will require careful handling, but Light knows she is good at that.
The lights of the Tokyo Tower blaze through the hotel window. Takada sits at the desk, feet together, looking up enquiringly as the door opens. Light makes herself bite her lip, hover at the doorway like she's nervous.
"Takada-san," she says. "You... you don't look any different from when we were at university."
She sees Takada brighten a little, sit up straighter, and in her head she smiles.
"Oh... I'm sorry," she carries on. "I know you must be very busy. I don't want to waste your time. It's just... I really need your help."
Standing in the darkened room with the lights blazing through the window, feeling the eyes of the task force on her, she gives just one more in a stream of brilliant performances. She talks of how many mistakes she's made, how ashamed she is that she had to miss a year of university. How concerned she is that she's on the wrong path, how both she and the police want to make amends for their failures. How fondly she remembers their talks about Kira. How she knows that she needs Takada's help.
Takada smiles pityingly, and gently hugs her, tells her that everything will be all right. Light smiles in the darkness. The crawling words didn't even stick in her throat, because she knows she's won, again.
[Title] On the Record
[Fandom] Death Note
[Rating] PG for death and cursing
[Notes/Summary] Dialogue between two OCs, overheard in Kira's new world.
"Please! Please, I'm sorry! Just - look, I'll give you - you want money? Or, or something else, seriously, whatever I need to do to write this off -"
"I don't want your money, okay? All I want is for you to keep quiet and let me fill in the paperwork."
"Why the hell are you bothering? You know I'll be dead by the end of the week!"
A sigh. "It's not my problem. Maybe you shouldn't have done it."
"It was a joke, okay? It was a dare, everyone else was doing it! I didn't think the police were gonna - I thought you'd have bigger things to worry about! Seriously, just - I can - whatever you want, whatever you fucking want -"
"Just give it a goddamn rest. Look... you know Kira's lot pull in all the CCTV footage. It doesn't matter what I do now."
The scratch of pen on paper. Shaky breathing.
"I don't want to die."
"Is there any point me asking you for a name?"
"I don't want to fucking die, all right? I didn't do shit! You think this is right? There's real bastards getting away with real shit and you're going through the fucking motions for this? Doesn't it ever bother you? You ever think, you pull in some pickpocket or junkie and you're signing their death warrant? You cops are the real murderers here, just fucking look at yourself!"
"I'm just doing my job. I'm nothing to do with Kira. Like I said, maybe you should've stayed in tonight." Terse, the words bitten off.
Quiet sobbing.
Later, a scream, a choking gasp, and then silence.
