Work Text:
Any time now.
Light doesn’t have to look at his watch to know; he’s gotten all too good at counting in his head. A soft tick, tick echoing in his mind with deadly precision, denoting every single second that brings them closer to the end.
Soon, Mikami will peer through the rusty door, see all their names, and enact judgment upon every last person who knows of the notebook’s existence. It’s a victory so perfect, Light is having more trouble than usual biting back a grin.
The anticipation has been at a consistent simmer for days, threatening to boil over as time stretches on. Still, he maintains his composure and waits. His victory lap will be that much sweeter among their fallen bodies.
Near stares directly at him through that horrible mask, remaining completely unfazed even when Light stares back. The first thirty minutes pass mercifully, and the tension only rises when Near finally takes the mask off.
Even as the mask is raised, his eyes stay glued to Light, like he’s expecting something to happen the moment his face is exposed. Dark grey irises bore into him relentlessly, but Light doesn’t mind this at all. Unwittingly, Near gets to face his final moments like his predecessor did–staring up at Light as his heart gives out. Why should Light take that away from him?
Any time now.
The tension is unbearable. Every once in a while, the faintest creak causes everyone to leap out of their skin. Hardened professionals in their field all tremble at the sound of wind against rusty metal or a mouse skittering past their feet. Even the pitter-patter of the rain, shifting around like something outside is disturbing it, makes them freeze. They, of course, have every reason to be scared.
Tick, tick.
Frustration begins to take over when they cross the first-hour mark.
Normally, Light would keep his frustration to himself, but it isn’t entirely out of place now considering that, standing behind him, the task force grows visibly impatient by the minute.
When Near first revealed his intention to lure Kira into joining them, he was met with an unsurprising chorus of dissent. There continued to be less-than-happy short exchanges from there on out. But after an hour and a half now escapes them, everyone looks desperate for anything to happen. Anything to get this over with.
While the room quickly grows agitated, Ryuk watches from the railing above, kicking his feet to the rhythm of the large exhaust fan on the wall.
The death god is faring arguably worse than everyone else. Like an impatient child on an endless car ride, he’d asked several times if something was going to happen yet. With the SPK present, no one could answer him or tell him to stop. He’d only taken their disregard of him as permission to further needle those who could hear him, effortlessly adding to everyone’s nerves.
Light wouldn’t have been surprised if Ryuk considered killing them all for making him wait. Just to liven up the place.
The only one who remains unaffected is Near. He sits on the floor, hunched over himself as he twirls a lock of hair around an index finger. His pathetic mask of L’s face lies on the floor, having long since been abandoned in anticipation of their special guest. Its unblinking eyes somehow manage to express boredom too.
As if sensing Light’s eyes on him, Near meets his gaze and holds it. Light purses his lips in annoyance. Is that what this meeting has come to? Staring contests?
Where on earth is Mikami?
As though the universe offered to answer his question, their staring contest is cut short by Near’s attention being drawn to the concerned whispers among his teammates behind him.
Near turns to face them and raises a hand, gesturing for one of them to move closer. The tallest of them, a large, stoic man with slicked-back blonde hair, practically kneels on the floor to reach Near and cups his hand over his mouth to whisper something in his ear.
This one small action shifts the mood in the room dramatically. Something is happening, finally.
The entire task force is visibly tense, save for Light who only crosses his arms.
There’s no point in wallowing in suspense. Light clears his throat and asks, “Is something the matter, Near?”
The blonde man pulls away, standing up straight and returning to his previous spot. Near looks to the task force members.
“It seems there’s a bit of… Traffic on the road.”
Light raises an eyebrow. “Traffic?”
Near nods. “An unforeseen accident along the road was reported an hour ago, resulting in a traffic jam. Our guest may unfortunately be running late.”
Light narrows his eyes, disbelieving.
“Seriously?” Matsuda pipes in abruptly. Light had a feeling he’d be the first to comment. “Haven’t we waited long enough? It’s been almost two hours.”
Near shrugs. “We don’t have much choice.”
“But it’s way past lunch…” Matsuda whines, earning a light smack to the shoulder from Aizawa beside him. He doesn’t relent, though. “I didn’t eat breakfast earlier ‘cause I thought the meeting would be quick.”
Light has half a mind to chastise him but Near’s words beat him to the chase, far more understanding than what Light was thinking.
“I see. Does anyone else share Mr. Matsuda’s sentiment?” Near asks, eyes scanning the people in the room.
Light looks over at his team. Matsuda continues to make a show of his hunger by clutching his stomach for emphasis, to which Ide nods sympathetically. Even Aizawa seems reluctant to disagree with him despite his previous reprimanding.
Unbelievable. Light shifts his attention to the SPK members behind Near, giving them a look of what hopefully reads as, Is he being serious?
The dark-haired man responds to his silent question with a shrug, turning to the blonde man beside him who pats his own stomach with a hum. The only woman on the team–Hal, that bodyguard of Takada, Light recalls–crosses her arms, but doesn’t speak against it.
Matsuda steps forward, voice loud and eager when he says, “Let’s all have lunch together!”
And just like that, any remaining tension shatters instantaneously.
Ryuk’s cackle echoes from above, clearly in favor of this backward development. Light can feel those red, soulless eyes on him, savoring the way Light’s gone into internal panic mode.
He needs to get a word in; remind everyone what they’re all here for. That they need to stay put until he arrives, or else they’ll miss their chance. He prepares what he’s going to say, but finds himself biting back his words when he sees no one else disagreeing with the suggestion.
“It’s already two-thirty, though,” Hal comments, looking down at her watch.
“Late lunch, then?” Ide suggests, receiving enthusiastic nods from Matsuda next to him.
“Not much else to do, really,” Aizawa sighs, throwing his hands up in defeat.
Light feels like he’s losing his mind.
Would it be suspicious for him to be the only one objecting to lunch? Surely everyone in this room can be persuaded past their hunger to stay put for a little while longer. He just had to make it convincing; nothing too desperate. Too many people here didn’t trust him already and would likely reject anything he seemed to want a little too badly. Maybe he could get things back on track if he convinces Near…
Light looks back at Near whose expression is completely unreadable. Why is he agreeing to this? Does he want them to leave for a purpose? A sinking feeling hits his gut when he imagines the possible reasons why.
Near could be lying. About the traffic, and about Mikami. Could they have actually changed their minds and apprehended him instead? What does he stand to achieve by capturing Mikami and then orchestrating this meeting? He could be using lunch as an excuse to lure Light outside where dozens of police cars are waiting to take him to–
“–a café on the other side of the wharf! We passed it on our way in,” Matsuda says, much too cheerily. He’s addressing Near in particular, who lets out a pensive hum.
“Do they have enough seats for our group?” Near asks.
“Oh, um…” Matsuda does a quick visual sweep of those in the warehouse, counting them off under his breath. “It’s way past lunch so there won’t be a lot of people anyway. We can get two tables.”
Near seems satisfied with that answer. He looks back once again to his team who all wordlessly nod at him.
That exchange, brief as it was, has alarm bells blaring in Light’s head. There’s no way Near is telling the truth.
Light had this day planned down to a tee, ensuring the conditions were absolutely perfect for their meeting. He’d checked the news before they left, and personally saw no signs of traffic on their way here. Now if there really was a road accident, he had no way of confirming. Part of their agreement was that the task force couldn’t bring any communication devices, so all their phones were left in the car.
It can’t just be a coincidence; there’s no room left for coincidences. Not when they’re this close to the end. No, this must be part of Near’s plan. He wouldn’t capture Mikami, but he might just create obstructions on the road to buy time.
But… then what? What happens to Light? Why cause a delay now when Near was the one who couldn’t afford to push back the meeting in the first place? Light can’t wrap his head around it, nor why everyone is just agreeing to the change of plans.
If the goal is simply to throw Light off balance, then he’s unfortunately succeeding. Light never prepared for this. Though, in his defense, how could he have known to plan against a team lunch?!
This cannot happen. He should at least try to refute the suggestion, suspicions be damned. If it’s just traffic, then Mikami can’t be that much further away. He can’t let this opportunity go to waste.
Taking a step forward, Light opens his mouth to speak, but his stomach beats him to the punch by letting out a low gurgle that’s only amplified by the warehouse’s acoustics. All eyes land on him, the silence deafening.
Goddammit. He didn’t have breakfast either.
With no excuse to fall back on now that his own gut has betrayed him, Light swallows down his protests and lets out a bashful laugh.
“Lunch sounds good to me. Is everyone okay with that?”
Approval erupts from both sides of the room. Near nods and, with a sense of finality, rises to his feet, plucking the mask from the ground on his way up.
“Very well. We will have a brief meal at the café suggested by Mr. Matsuda, and then return here immediately after.”
Who put him in charge of making the final decisions? Clearly, no one else cared to ask the same question, because Light’s team looks happy to take Near’s word as an order. The group of men turn to each other, discussing what they should eat.
With clenched fists, Light accepts he’s lost the battle. It can’t be helped; there’s no telling what time Mikami will arrive, nor any way of contacting him discreetly to find out. With everyone already eager to go out and eat, the best Light can hope for is that Mikami will show up while they’re gone, hide out until everyone comes back, and finish the job then.
Near takes his mask and places it back on. The exaggerated face of L returns just in time to mock Light and his predicament.
“Please lead the way, Mr. Matsuda.”
Matsuda perks up at Near’s words, more than delighted to lead the charge toward the door.
Light falls behind, waiting until everyone exits the warehouse before he does. They step out onto the damp concrete floor, the rain already gone with how long they had been waiting inside.
Pulling the door closed, he leaves it slightly ajar to allow Mikami to see and go inside if need be. The warehouse’s location is isolated by a wire fence, which means there aren’t many hiding place options besides their two cars parked on either side. If Mikami decides to hide, Light will make it easy for him.
Light quickly catches up to the group, following them out of the area. Glaring at the back of everyone’s heads, he wishes that alone was enough to kill, even just this once.
…
…
…
On the other end of Daikoku Wharf, a short ten-minute walk from the Yellow Box, stands a small bayside café. The eatery is almost unnoticeable in the middle of the long walkway; its standout feature being the large, wooden sign on the roof displaying the café’s name. Across the road, an astonishing view of the water and the distant cityscape steals all the attention away.
The sun is high in the sky, adorning the waves with beautiful twinkles of light that dance to the mid-afternoon breeze. Not too far off, a large boat cuts through the water, horn blaring as it passes beneath Yokohama Bay Bridge on its way to the next pier. It’s a perfect spot to go sightseeing, if not for the seven-foot wired fence obscuring the scenery.
Despite being quite late for having lunch, it’s undeniably a great time to be here. Mid-afternoon on a Thursday meant that most people are currently either at work or school. Looking through the windows of the establishment, one could see that the only patrons were two male dockworkers drinking coffee at a corner table. More than enough unoccupied seats remain to accommodate them all.
The group of nine pile into the cafe slowly, being ushered in by Matsuda whose eyes are already locked onto the large display menus at the counter. A young woman in a server uniform approaches to greet them at the door, eyeing the large group anxiously. It’s their attire, Light presumes, which certainly didn’t suit the cozy establishment they’re in.
She kindly gestures toward a long table near the windows with just enough seats for them all. Members from each team quickly find their places; the SPK on one side of the table, and the task force across them, with Mogi pulling up an extra chair to sit at the end of the table that’s not pressed up against the wall.
Near immediately settles into the seat by the wall, with the blonde man occupying the seat beside him. Having entered last, by the time Light approaches the table there’s only one seat left for him. The seat beside Matsuda and across Near.
This cannot be happening to him…
Unfortunate as it may be, Light doesn’t have time to complain. At least, not openly. The waitress is already handing out menus to everyone in their seats, so Light swallows his pride and sits down.
Reaching out for one of the menus, he raises it high enough to block that stupid mask from his line of sight. The group takes their time going over the menu, discussing among smaller groups what they should get.
“They have so many soups…” Matsuda mutters, dragging a pointer finger down the menu. Looking to his left, he asks, “What are you getting, Light?”
Light skims through the options and looks back at him. “I’ll have a club sandwich.”
Matsuda nods in approval. “How about you, Near? What do you want?” he asks across the table, pointing to the menu.
“French fries. Unsalted, please.”
“You got it.” Matsuda snaps his fingers, turning to the rest of the table and asking for everyone’s order. When the waitress comes back, the man dutifully relays each one to her.
He stops abruptly mid-sentence, addressing the table once more. “Oh! What about drinks? Dessert? Anything?”
“Black coffee for me, please,” Light says, still hiding behind the menu.
Beside the list of drinks is a column full of desserts. An image of a tall glass crammed full of ice cream, strawberries, and other overly sweet toppings catches his eye, the excessiveness of it almost making him sick.
Absentmindedly, he asks, “Do you want a strawberry parfait?”
There’s a long, awkward pause that he doesn’t notice until a soft voice breaks it, answering him with a confused, “Me? No.”
Light pulls the menu down slightly to see Near tilting his head, the exaggerated features of L looking at him quizzically.
“Like I said, I’ll have fries,” Near says. “Unsalted.”
Light clears his throat, finally setting the menu down. “Right. Just black coffee for me.”
Matsuda gives them a cheery thumbs up and turns back to the waitress.
When the orders are settled, the group slowly eases into conversation, far more relaxed than what one would expect from people who were anticipating a massacre just a while ago.
Still, the reality of what awaits them hangs over their heads like the blade of a guillotine–out of sight, but impossible to ignore completely. Without any prompting, an unspoken agreement arose to avoid bringing up the obvious. They’re still in the middle of an active case, and there’s information both parties can’t afford to accidentally divulge, despite supposedly being on the same side.
Besides cursory introductions, from which Light learned the names of the rest of the SPK–all surely fake like their leader’s–they can’t get too comfortable with each other until this is all over.
Thus, their casual exchange proceeds with an air of caution, each of them navigating around sensitive details or simply foregoing anything Kira-related altogether, just to be safe.
Light pays half attention to the discussion. He’s not entirely confident someone won’t slip up and mention something they shouldn’t. Specifically, the something that is currently roaming through the café’ like a lost dog…
In his periphery, Light can see Ryuk floating around the counter and peeking into the kitchen. With none of the task force able to look at or respond to him in public, the death god happily seeks entertainment elsewhere, not interested in the slightest with their odd little lunch date.
If only Ryuk could make himself useful. They could get to the interesting part much faster if he just flew off and looked for Mikami. But, as it stands, there’s no way of telling him that without getting caught. No amount of cozy atmosphere could ease off the burning stares the SPK have been directing his way since leaving the warehouse.
There’s also the possibility that when Mikami finds the warehouse empty he could come looking for them. He could very easily get their names from the window and kill them all later. The only problem would be Near, who is certainly not removing the mask if he realizes something is off.
Light sighs, leaning back in his seat. Maybe he’ll think of something better after a couple of bites.
Across the table, Near shifts in his chair, trying to find a comfortable sitting position on the hard, wooden material. He lifts one foot up onto the seat, bringing his knee to his chest, and huffs in dissatisfaction.
The blonde man beside him–Commander Rester, Near had called him earlier–leans over to whisper something, his shadow covering Near’s smaller frame for a moment.
Near shakes his head in response to whatever was said, waving the man off, and he obediently pulls away.
Still not entirely convinced the SPK isn’t hiding more information, Light asks, “Is everything alright?”
“Everything is fine,” Near answers firmly, reaching up to grab a lock of white hair. “He was just asking me if I wanted to switch seats with him. He seems to be under the impression that I have a problem sitting here.”
Light catches a glimpse of the commander staring sharply at him. When he’s sure Light notices, he pivots his attention back to the rest of the group’s conversation.
“You can switch seats if you like, Near. I won’t take offense or anything.” Light tacks on a friendly smile at the end of his sentence for good measure.
Frankly, he’d prefer Near move away so he doesn’t have to face off against that horrid mask throughout his meal. It’s the one small mercy this day could surely offer him.
Near pointedly adjusts his mask when he says, “It’s alright. I quite like it here.”
Light scowls at him. He didn’t have to hide it; Near knows that mask got on Light’s nerves, and is more than pleased to keep at it.
The image of tossing him right over the wharf briefly flashes through Light’s mind. Or at the very least, he’d love to send that mask flying out into the water. He needed some sort of win today.
The waitress soon returns with a cart full of food, carefully setting down each person’s order in front of them. The chatter dies down as everyone begins to eat.
Light doesn’t miss the way certain people shoot him a cautionary glance as he takes the table knife into his hand, cutting a piece of the sandwich and raising it to his mouth with the fork. He’s barely two bites in when he pauses, sighing exasperatedly.
“Any reason why you’re staring at me?”
“I’m not staring,” Near counters innocently. He tilts the mask up slightly, leaving just enough room for him to slowly put a fry in his mouth.
Light watches the fry disappear beneath the mask. He doesn’t have to see Near’s eyes to know he’s definitely staring.
“If you say so…” Somewhat jokingly, Light adds, “But if you want a piece of my sandwich, you could just ask, you know.”
Near hums contemplatively, eyes shifting between Light and the sandwich. Finally, he pushes his plate with the tip of his index finger toward Light. “Okay. May I have a piece?”
Light blinks, his hand freezing just as he’s about to pick up another piece for himself. He didn’t expect him to accept the offer. If anything, Light anticipated some sort of snide remark about the piece being poisoned between him cutting it and placing it on Near’s plate.
Ridiculous as it sounds, Near wasn’t exactly subtle during their last call when accusing Light of trying alternative ways to kill him once they met. Of course, Light had no reason to plan such things since he was confident in his plan with Mikami.
Now, though…?
Near seems to pick up on Light's hesitation, and strangely adds, “You may have some of my fries in exchange.”
“That’s not what I–” Light stops, taking a deep breath. “Fine, here.”
He cuts a bite-sized piece of the sandwich and uses his fork to pass it to Near, who takes the plate back but makes no move to eat it.
“Thank you,” Near says. He gestures to his fries. “Please, have some.”
If Near isn’t gonna make the obvious comment, then Light might as well.
Light quips, “How can I be sure you’re not trying to poison me or something?”
Without missing a beat, Near answers, “You can’t.”
Light’s mouth presses into a thin line as he watches Near take another fry and shove it beneath the mask until it disappears with a soft nom.
“I’ll pass, thank you.”
It’s only when their exchange ends that Light realizes Matsuda had been watching them the entire time, eyes bouncing back and forth between the two youngest members of the group as he quietly sips his beverage. It’s unclear what part of that conversation was so captivating to him, but Light has many other things to worry himself over right now.
His knife cuts into his sandwich a little more aggressively this time.
The chatter eventually picks up again; people taking turns telling stories between bites of food. Aizawa has the table enraptured with an anecdote from earlier in his career as a police officer, occasionally garnering a round of laughter from the task force and SPK alike.
Near reaches over and tugs on Rester’s sleeve, drawing the man away from Aizawa’s story. He looks at Near questioningly.
“Yes, sir?”
“Please hand me the water…” Near points down the table to the pitcher.
“I’ll get it,” Hal says, standing up to grab the pitcher and bring it closer to Near.
With a nod, Near takes the pitcher and pours himself a glass. “Thank you. Please, continue.”
“They have juice as well, sir,” Gevanni mentions from the end of the table, grabbing one of the menus left behind and skimming through it. He holds it up for Near to see, showing off the juice selection. “I can order if you like.”
Near shakes his head, raising his mask halfway to take a sip of water. “This is enough for me. Feel free to get some if you wish.”
Gevanni turns the menu back to himself, scanning it intently. Hal looks over his shoulder and announces, “They have pineapple.”
Beside her, Rester suddenly perks up, his stoicism fading for a brief moment. The other two grin like they were expecting it.
“They have pineapple?”
“Please get some pineapple juice for Commander Rester.”
“I was just asking, Near.”
“So you don’t want any? ‘Cause I’m ordering one for me,” Hal says teasingly, waving to catch the attention of the waitress who quickly approaches them with her notepad.
“Fine. Wait, let me look at the menu again…”
As the three older SPK members busy themselves with the menu, Near finishes his glass of water and sets it down on the table with a soft clink.
“It must be crazy leading such a high-profile investigation at your age, Near,” Matsuda speaks up, observing the group. “It’s good you have a great team around you.”
Near nods, leaning back against his seat. His plate is already empty, save for a single piece of sandwich. “I do. Thank you. Nothing I do would be possible without them.”
Taking a glance at Light, Matsuda adds, “Come to think of it, Light was your age too when he took over as L in the case.”
Aizawa nudges him on the arm, causing the man to yelp and lose his grip on his fork. “We shouldn’t be discussing that right now.”
“Oh! Right, my bad,” Matsuda says sheepishly, bowing his head.
“It’s fine, Aizawa,” Light interrupts, waving his hand. “If Near already knows what happened to L, I’m sure he also has an idea of how I came to lead the investigation.”
Aizawa looks hesitant. “Right… Still, it’s better to be safe since the day isn’t done yet.”
And there it is again–that looming dread of what awaits them. The momentary silence serves as a solemn reminder that this peace is only temporary.
“It’s almost four,” Mogi notes, setting down his utensils to look at his watch.
Beside him, Ide tenses. Since he and Matsuda were the most rattled by Near’s plan to let Kira write their names in the notebook, it isn’t entirely surprising when he speaks up and says,
“Are we really going back? I mean, is he still even coming when it’s already this late?”
Outside the window, the sun hangs lower in the sky, painting the clouds with delicate strokes of yellow and orange. The walkway–still partially damp from the rain earlier–now bathes in the late afternoon’s gentle golden glow.
Light glances at Near, waiting for him to respond.
“Whether we return or not is fine by me and my team,” Near states plainly. He takes his unused fork and gently twirls it between his fingers before plunging the prongs into the lonely piece of sandwich still waiting on his plate. Looking up at Light, he asks, “What about you?”
The bait is laughable at best. Near hasn’t asked his opinion on anything all day, and now he’s suddenly interested in what Light wants to do? If he’s expecting him to plead to go back to the warehouse, Light won’t give him the satisfaction.
“This meeting was your idea, so we’re willing to go through with whatever you decide.”
“I thought you might say that,” Near says boredly, setting down his fork. “If that’s the case, we’ll return as planned after everyone is done eating.”
Light grits his teeth. Near likely would have said the same thing no matter what he chose.
With a table full of empty plates, the teams take their final moments to digest and unwind before returning to reality. Light pretends not to notice Hal whisper something to her teammates on either side of her. Whatever is really going on, he’ll find out soon enough.
“We should do this again sometime,” Matsuda says, leaning back against his seat in satisfaction.
Several people nod in agreement, and Light is surprised to find Near is one of them.
“I enjoyed it more than I expected considering I rarely go outside like this,” Near admits, almost shyly, finding another lock of hair to twirl around his finger.
Matsuda seems to remember something when he hears that, eyes lighting up in amusement. He leans toward Aizawa, whispering, “Hah, that reminds me of Ryuzaki.”
“Ryuzaki?” Near asks.
Clearly not expecting Near to have heard him, Matsuda looks back in surprise. “Ah, yeah. I meant L. He was like that, too.”
Near tilts his head. “How so?”
“He never wanted to go out, even when we invited him. Always had some excuse, said he doesn’t go out much,” Matsuda says with an annoyed huff. Then, the implication of Near’s question gives him pause. He follows it up with, “Didn’t you get to meet him?”
“No, I did not.”
A genuine look of surprise crosses Matsuda’s features. Light can’t blame him; he finds it hard to believe too.
Looking at Near, one could assume the similarities are… Deliberate, just like that mask. The sitting position, the wide-eyed stare, the wardrobe; did their orphanage just… Raise them like that? Probably not.
In the short time Light had been… ‘acquainted’ with Mello, the starkest commonality between him and L was their drive to achieve results, no matter the cost. But he’d never shared a meal at a café with Mello, so who’s to say they aren’t all like this?
No, Near is a different threat from L–his actions are far more predictable, his methods are too clean. Without that willingness to get his hands dirty like L and Mello before him, to put pen to paper and actually play to win, Near’s plan is doomed from the start. And he won’t grasp that until he sees Mikami write his name down in the real notebook.
Whether his ability to carry L’s legacy truly went beyond masks and appearances would be revealed at the warehouse.
Matsuda looks embarrassed to have asked such a question, now stumbling for a response. “Oh, well… Anyway, we can definitely get lunch like this again once we start working together.”
There’s a beat of silence.
Matsuda looks around, confused by the poor reception. “Guys, if things don’t work out today, Kira will still be out there. And it’s probably for the best that we start working together, right?”
Several people share uneasy looks.
Though there were talks of such plans to work together in their previous calls, no one ever officially signed off on anything. And now, facing one another in real life, the teams struggle to do so when this undeniable sense of finality hangs in the air, only growing thicker as they intend to return to the warehouse soon.
Matsuda must sense it too, if the desperate look on his face for someone to agree says anything.
Light decides to cut him some slack. With a reassuring smile, Light says, “If Near is willing to agree, then of course.”
Near twirls his hair a little faster, seeming displeased by Light’s mention of him again.
“I was under the assumption we’d been working together this entire time,” Near says, unamused. “Was I wrong to think so?”
Light leans forward, too far to really get into Near’s space but close enough to try. “I think Matsuda means working together under better conditions. It’d be nice to trust each other a little more after today, right?”
“Is that what you hope to get today? Trust?”
“You still suspect me, don’t you? Today will finally clear things up,” Light hums. “I see no downside in working together, Near.”
“Good for you,” Near says, turning to address the rest of the table. “Let’s get the bill, please.”
“You two sure get along…” Matsuda says awkwardly, waving the waitress over to their table.
The young woman arrives with the bill, handing it to Matsuda as she begins loading their empty dishes onto her cart. When she finishes cleaning and rolls the cart away, Matsuda speaks up.
“Alright, so everyone will pay for their individual meals, and if you shared anything you can discuss how you plan to split it–”
“Mr. Matsuda,” Near interrupts. “If it’s alright with everyone, I will cover the bill.”
The task force’s heads snap toward him.
“You don’t have to,” Aizawa says, hand already in his pocket.
“It’s the least I can do for troubling you all with today’s meeting. So if I may…” Near motions to Gevanni who stands and reaches out to Matsuda for the bill.
The task force all look at each other in consideration, before nodding at Matsuda who hands the bill over with a gracious bow.
As Gevanni goes to settle the bill, a few of the remaining members decide to go out for a quick smoke break. Aizawa, Ide, Rester, and Hal all exit the cafe, headed for the smoking area in the back. Ryuk seems to have left as well. Light can’t even begin to imagine where he’s gone.
Their smoke break won’t take long, but Light can barely stand it anymore. It feels like they’re playing the waiting game all over again. Light taps his finger against the table impatiently. Tap, tap, tap. One for every second that passes.
Glancing out of the window, Light decides maybe some fresh air will grant him the necessary additional patience.
“Is it alright if I take a walk to clear my head before we go back?”
Gevanni immediately steps up, just like he anticipated.
“I will accompany you,” he says, leaving no room for argument.
To his surprise, Near argues anyway. “It’s alright, Gevanni. I would like to take a walk too. Allow me.”
A look of hesitation washes over the agent’s face, clear as day. Light doesn’t even bother to act offended by the open discussion of who gets to babysit him. Anything to get him out of here sooner.
Near scoots his chair backward and rises to his feet. “If I die, then please arrest him without further question.”
Mockingly, Light says, “Think I’ll throw you into the water or something?”
Near’s silence is all the answer he needs.
“Oh! Maybe Near can handcuff himself to Light to make sure he doesn’t do anything, right?” Matsuda says with a wink and a laugh that makes Light rub his temples in exasperation.
The reference escapes the two SPK members entirely. Near tilts his head in confusion. “That sounds needless and excessive.”
Mogi snorts from his seat.
“Let’s just go,” Light says, gesturing to Near.
The two walk out of the café in complete silence, the eyes of the remaining members following them every step of the way.
A strong breeze hits them as they walk through the door, the air damp and salty. The distant push and pull of the waves fills the silence as the two slowly cross over to the other end of the road where the wire fence surrounds the edge of the wharf.
There isn’t much else to do here besides eating and sightseeing. Down the road, there are a handful more eateries and a mini-mall somewhere closer to the entrance. Elsewhere are mostly large, rusty containers and warehouses much like the Yellow Box.
Light approaches the wire fence until he’s close enough to see the water beneath them and grimaces at the barrier.
He couldn’t throw Near into the water even if he wanted to…
A familiar sense of foreboding crashes over him as he looks back at Near standing a few steps away, the younger man’s head tilted up to the heavens. The colors of the sky bounce off of cotton white pajamas, pale skin, and fluffy white hair. He looks exactly like a cloud right now, swimming in colors.
Light’s not sure how much visibility he has through that mask, but whatever he sees has his rapt attention. Or maybe he’s just thinking. He said he doesn’t go out very often, so maybe he truly is just enjoying himself being outside.
Whatever the reason, Light’s just glad to have him not stare in his direction for a while.
The waves are much louder here by the fence. If Light closes his eyes, it almost sounds like rain.
Déjà vu hits him like a downpour; feelings from a lifetime ago, memories of staring up at a stormy sky and catching droplets with a towel from soaked, raven hair wash over him.
Light bites his tongue and looks away. He’ll let Near enjoy the moment as much as he wants; they both know what’s coming next.
There’s no escaping it. True justice will finally prevail. With no one to stop his judgments, today will become a turning point for humanity’s tomorrow. The world will change forever, even if the world doesn’t know it. To them, today is just another Thursday, so the world continues on the way it always has.
There aren’t many people at the wharf today. Those who walk past them are mostly workers finishing up their daily tasks, or youth in their uniforms on their way home from school. Light catches them in his periphery every once in a while, even accidentally mistaking one young man for Mikami for a moment. When he notices the school uniform and dark brown hair, Light shakes his head and looks away, allowing him to disappear down the road.
From where they stand, there’s a perfect view of Yokohama Bay Bridge. A steady beam of sunlight cuts through the arches, shining over the vehicles like a spotlight as they carry people to their destinations. Besides the stares of their teammates still inside the café, they’re alone with the burden of what’s to come, and each other.
“I’m sure you won’t believe me, but…”
Near’s voice startles Light despite its softness. Light looks down and, as he’s become accustomed to, L’s face stares right back.
“My team and I had nothing to do with today’s delays. And currently, I have no reason to assume you knew about this either.”
Light actually finds himself believing Near’s words. After all this time, Light can’t think of a single reason for why Near would want to stall or apprehend Mikami. His plan was to get Mikami to write their names in the notebook, Light is absolutely certain. Light’s name would be missing from the pages, thus proving he is Kira. But for that to work, and for Near to survive, he needed to successfully swap the real notebook.
Near wouldn’t have called to meet if he wasn’t certain he did. So why delay the inevitable when it was only detrimental to his plan?
Light doesn’t say a word.
“Today didn’t go as planned. That much, I’m sure we can agree on,” Near says, oddly sincere. “It’s quite the letdown, if I’m being honest.”
Light frowns. Why is Near telling him this?
Near hadn’t given him an inch all day, very rarely expressing anything besides amusement at Light’s inconvenience. Now he’s… Trying to be honest?
It’s not surprising at all that he feels let down. Anyone would be if their meticulous planning was impeded by something as petty as supposed traffic. It’s the fact that Near is telling him this that has Light bewildered.
Maybe he expects Light to share his frustration. However, Light had the assurance of returning to the warehouse keeping him sane. An assurance Near didn’t have.
Light let him plan the meeting, pick the venue, choose the time and date, and control as many variables as he could. Near had more than enough resources to prepare, all the cards needed to win in his hands.
So why does he seem worried?
“The day isn’t over, Near,” Light begins.
The world around them may disagree–the sky approaches sunset, the cars gradually drive out of the bridge, and the passersby start making their way home–but the day isn’t over.
It’s not meant to be encouraging. He doubts Near would take encouragement from him, anyway.
“We should head back to the warehouse. There’s no use in delaying things further,” Light continues, searching for the eye holes in his mask to look directly at him. “ That much we can agree on.”
Near doesn’t move. Only the white curls on his head bounce to the breeze.
Perhaps he’s thinking Mikami already discovered the fake pages in the notebook. That this delay is all part of Light’s plan, and that returning to the warehouse isn’t as safe as he originally planned.
Well, whatever he’s worrying about doesn’t matter. The notebook the SPK swapped wasn’t real, and no matter the delay, Mikami had already done the work of preparing the real notebook. The winner was decided the moment Near called to ensure this meeting would push through.
The thought makes Light grin.
Light places his hands in his pockets and takes a step back toward the café.
“... Light Yagami.”
His name sounds heavy on Near’s tongue.
Light stops in his tracks. He’s sick of all this suspense. “What is it? Don’t tell me you’re having second thoughts about returning?”
“Not at all,” Near responds, voice resolute. “I fully intend for all of us to return and see this through to the end. I just have one question before we do.”
Light narrows his eyes, uncertain of where this is heading. Near’s actions were far more predictable than his words.
“And what would that be?” Light asks carefully.
“Were you there? When L died?”
Light takes a shallow breath. A million questions run through his mind, the most pertinent being, “Why does that matter?”
Though he keeps his tone neutral, the words themselves sound defensive. He can’t see Near’s face but, somehow, Light can still tell he’s pleased by this response.
Near looks away from him, back at the sky, and says smugly, “I imagine your expression then was the same as the one you have now.”
The upward tug at the corners of his lips falls instantly. Light lets out a breath he didn't realize he was holding. “We should go.”
“Yes, we should.”
“Sir!”
The voice pierces through the wind, loud and urgent. Near and Light simultaneously turn to see Gevanni rushing toward them, his frantic expression visible even from a distance.
Light’s eyes look past him, instead catching two red dots floating above the café that weren’t there earlier.
Slowly, Ryuk descends from the sky and perches atop the large, wooden sign, a knowing grin clear as day on his face. In all the years Light has known him, that expression has never indicated anything good.
Near is quick to react, leaving Light’s side to approach Gevanni. Refusing to be left out on the details again, Light moves closer to them despite not being told to.
“What happened?” Near asks.
Gevanni visibly hesitates, glancing at Light a few paces away from them.
Near shakes his head. “It’s fine. Tell me.”
With Near’s approval, Gevanni speaks. “They got him, sir.”
The words make Light’s blood run cold.
He knew it.
He fucking knew it. Near lied.
Of course Near lied. It’s like Light predicted from the very beginning; they delayed Mikami’s arrival and captured him. But why?! What was the point of this entire meeting if they were just gonna take Mikami alone? Mikami, who Near believed to be the key to catching the real Kira? Why waste all this time on some useless team lunch? And why did it take this long?
It made no sense. None of this made any sense.
Standing completely still, Near asks, “Who got him?”
Gevanni takes a breath, and exhales the answer. “Aizawa and Ide.”
… What.
Gevanni composes himself before finally explaining, “Ide left to get a lighter, and Aizawa accompanied him to be safe. The lighter was in their car. Rester didn’t know until Aizawa called him on the phone.”
They went back to the warehouse without telling anyone?! Light holds back his reaction. Gevanni isn’t done speaking, and he braces himself for the worst.
“They found our target hiding outside. Ide shot him.”
Light feels his blood boil hot with rage.
That idiot. Did Ide really believe Mikami wouldn’t show up anymore? Or did he believe it too much? Was he so certain that Mikami would be there waiting for them, and just didn’t want to risk Near’s plan of letting him write their names down?
Near mirrors Light’s frustration, shoulders tense and finger coiled around a lock of hair so tightly he might just rip it off. Even Gevanni looks aggrieved by this news.
“Where are they now?” Near asks urgently.
“They’re still there. The police have been called. Rester is on his way to get us with the car. Sir, we should go.”
“Wait!” Light cuts in, irritated that they’re ignoring him again. “How were they so sure that person is associated with Kira? Sure enough to shoot?”
Gevanni once again looks at Near.
Light scowls. “They’re part of my team, I have the right to know what happened.”
Near gives a small nudge of the head, and Gevanni takes that as an okay signal.
Reluctantly, Gevanni says, “He was holding the notebook.”
Light takes the information in slowly, mind racing to put the piece in place.
If Mikami had the notebook in his hands, and was subsequently shot for it, does that mean he tried writing their names when Aizawa and Ide approached him? Surely, Mikami would have had enough time to write at least one of their names down before getting shot. If they’re both still alive, then…
There’s a ringing in Light’s ears.
The notebook–the real notebook–was tampered with.
Despite the safeguards Light had Mikami put in place, the fake he’d been instructed to carry while under surveillance, Near still somehow found the real notebook and made sure it wouldn’t work today.
Light would have lost. If they returned to the warehouse, he would have lost. And because they didn’t, both of them failed.
A car horn rips Light from his spiraling thoughts. In the distance, a black car quickly drives up to where they’re standing, pulling up in front of Near and Gevanni.
Inside the café, Light can see the commotion happening as Hal most likely explains the situation to the others before rushing to the exit.
Gevann steps up to hold open the backseat door for Near who slowly approaches the vehicle. Before he can step foot inside, he looks back at Light.
“We’ll have to meet again soon to discuss… This.”
Light stands on the sidewalk, a wild mix of feelings coursing through him. The primary one is disdain.
Light asks, “Will this meeting be over lunch again?”
It was meant to be derisive, but, for whatever reason, Near appears to consider it quite seriously. The mask hides what Light can only imagine is a look of contemplation.
“It could,” he answers simply before stepping in. Gevanni and Hal join soon after, and the car disappears along with Light’s perfect victory.
His remaining teammates burst out of the café doors soon after, now rushing him back to go back to the warehouse. Light takes a deep breath, preparing himself for what’s to come.
This day is far from over.